Bad Santa (Paranormal Christmas elves Romance) (Paranormal Protection Agency Book 13)
Page 4
It was long enough ago that he could look back on his time with his late wife without guilt. While they’d been happy, their relationship had been comfortable and easy. It had had none of the soul-searching passion that exploded through him the instant he touched Joy.
The first time, when he’d kissed her in the entrance hall, he’d thought it was a fluke. A combination of the adrenaline and the fact they were being watched by people who would quite possibly try to kill him in their next breath. Something like that would always add an element of danger to a stolen kiss.
But then when he was in the shower, he’d realized she was watching him, even though he’d been sure she was fast asleep when he’d slipped through her bedroom to reach the en-suite.
Not shy, he’d made sure she had a good view. Of course, he’d turned and flexed to show his body off to its best advantage. Then, somehow, his hand had wrapped around his cock, soaping it and his balls… he’d have gone further but she’d disappeared with a startled little gasp and it had taken everything he had in him not to follow her.
His restraint had counted for jack shit later in the morning though when they’d nearly been caught in Krasniqi’s office. He sighed and dropped his head back, closing his eyes as the weak winter sun warmed his face. A little show… yeah right. As soon as he’d touched her, felt her body move against his and smothered that sexy little gasp beneath his lips, he’d been hot and hard for her.
The fact they were being watched had fallen away. All that had mattered was the woman in his arms and the signals she gave him. Her kisses had been as eager as his, her hips rocking against his, that hot little pussy grinding over his cock. How he’d managed to resist tearing open his pants and sinking balls deep into her welcoming softness, he had no clue.
Something about her had stilled that impulse, gentled him, and all he’d cared about was making sure she felt good. He’d kissed her to distraction, his hands exploring her luscious, curvy body. And she’d let him, urging him on with unspoken cues until he had his fingers in her tight little pussy, bringing her to orgasm on his hand.
He shivered at the memory of her heat closed around him, of the soft, sexy noises she’d made as he’d brought her to pleasure, and the sultry, just-been-fucked look on her face when she’d sat back up.
A groan rolled up from the center of his chest. He wanted to see her like that again, after he’d fucked her senseless and made her hoarse screaming his name. If she was anyone else, he’d already have done it, taking her back up to her bedchamber and fucking her until they were both boneless with pleasure.
His eyes snapped open and he looked up into a sky filled with snow about to fall. He had a mission. She was Frost’s daughter, and sooner or later that heartless bastard would have to show up.
The roar of a bike engine filled his ears and he looked up to see a large motorcycle pull to a stop in front of him. The rider was the stereotypical MC biker, complete with leather cut off and a bad attitude as he swung his leg over the bike and stood to his full height.
He was tall, taller than Nick by a few inches, and broader across the shoulders. Thick muscles corded his big frame, his head topped with a shock of dirty blond hair that was now fading to grey. As well it might, for the guy was almost as old as Nick himself. Bright blue eyes set in a craggy but still handsome face warmed with genuine pleasure as the biker strode forward to yank Nick from his perch and drag him into a swift one-shouldered hug.
“Long time no see, big man.” Nick grinned, clapping the other guy over the back before he let go. Looking over at the bike, he smiled. “Still gotta have the wind in your hair, I see?”
Rudolph, just Dolph to his friends, stepped back and grinned, a glimmer of mischief in his bright eyes. “Always… It’s not like the old days, you know? There’s nothing like that feeling of take-off and the air beneath the old hooves, but it’s almost there. Keeps me feeling young, you know?”
Nick grinned in return. “I thought the saying was ‘you’re only as young as the woman you feel’?”
Dolph rumbled, a deep sound in the center of his big chest that was somewhere between a chuckle and a harrumph. “Yeah, trouble is, the chicks hanging around the place now… they’re younger than Rudi. How can I screw a gal younger than my grandkid?”
Nick lifted an eyebrow. “You’re… crap, how old are you now? Centuries? Be hard to find a woman old enough if you start thinking that way.”
“I’m old enough to know better but young enough not to give a fuck.” The big reindeer shook his head, the light sound of sleigh bells ringing in the air for a moment before he turned to prop his ass against the hood next to Nick.
“So, whatcha got for me, boss?” At Nick’s look, he chuckled. “Since we’re not meeting in a bar to get pissed and moan about how ungrateful the brats of today are, I figured you need something. Business or pleasure?”
Nick hid his smile. He’d forgotten just how perceptive Dolph was at times and how much he missed the gruff son of a bitch. Dolph had never pulled his punches, not even when Nick had hit his lowest point, and for that, Nick was truly grateful.
“Business…got more than enough on my plate, pleasure-wise, at the moment. Need you to get this to where it needs to go.”
Reaching into his pocket, he palmed the memory stick and handed it to Dolph. Anyone watching would think the two were sealing a drug deal, which was infinitely preferable to anything else. Even if the human cops caught them, he’d be out within hours thanks to the PPA link, and eventually they’d throw Dolph out when he caused too much trouble.
“Oh?” Dolph’s eyebrow winged up, but understanding filled his eyes a moment later as he caught on. “Small, pretty thing… bun in the oven at the moment? I’d sure give that a—”
Nick chuckled, shaking his head as Dolph added a few obscene gestures that left him in no doubt how attractive the big werereindeer found Nick’s boss. “Only if you have a freaking death wish, brother. She’s a gargoyle’s mate. Plus, Rudi’ll kick your ass to the pole and back if you tried it on.”
Dolph grimaced and crossed his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll never hear the fucking end of it. Pass. Okay, bro, you got it. One delivery coming up…”
He pushed up from the hood to stride to his bike but paused for a moment to look over his shoulder.
“Do you miss it?” he asked suddenly, indicating the sky. Nick didn’t bother asking what he meant. Christmas was in the air, the big day approaching, and already he could feel the pull of the magic. Dolph would too. All pole creatures did. It grew as Christmas approached, building up into a frenzy until the need to change, to become the big guy in the red suit, was overwhelming.
“Sometimes,” he said quietly, holding Dolph’s gaze. There was no need for pretense between them. No bluster and bravado. “But how can I when that asshole Frost is still out there? My hope died with Eva. How can I bring joy to kids when I have none of my own?”
5
She was a fucking hussy.
Joy shoved her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat as she walked, her cheeks warm against the cold caress of the winter air. She was. She was a hussy. What other explanation was there for almost fucking Nick right there at Andri’s desk? Almost, the little voice of reason tried to insist, they hadn’t actually gone all the way.
But they might as well have. Shaking her head to herself, she crossed the road, heels rapping against the sidewalk. And they would have, if Nick hadn’t called a halt to it. He’d had his fingers… yeah… and everything, but he’d stopped things before they went any further.
Fuck. She dropped her head and blew out a breath as more embarrassment washed over her. He’d had to remind her they were there to do a job. She’d completely forgotten about the download going on right behind them. A top secret, if anyone finds out what we’re doing, we’ll die mission… and she’d forgotten all about it in favor of bumping and grinding on Nick’s cock. No, even worse. It hadn’t even been a real bump and grind. She’d dry-humped the guy.
Ugh.
Perhaps she could call the PPA and get a new bodyguard? Iliona would understand, wouldn’t she?
“Yeah, Iliona hon… I nearly fucked this one and now I can’t face him. Can you send an ugly one next time, please?”
She closed her eyes for a second and groaned. Yeah, right. Because that would go down so well. Some kind of empire-busting revolutionary she was… throwing herself at the first guy with a pretty face and a hot body who crossed her path.
She might as well just admit it. She was a hussy just like her grandfather had always accused her mother of being when she’d come home pregnant and refused to say who the father was. Joy had built up fantastical stories about who her dad might have been. In her childish imagination, he’d been everything from a dragon king all the way to a faery sheikh and everything in between. Whatever species he’d been, he’d always been kind and loving, fiercely protective of her and her mother… his true love whom he’d been parted from through no fault of his own.
A sigh escaped her lips and she focused on the road as she crossed it. Fantasies like that had died a brutal death when she’d grown up and realized that no fairytale father was coming to save her. No, she had to do that for herself. Play pixie politics to ensure her own survival because no one was going to do it for her.
If that was the case, why did she feel so safe in Nick’s arms?
Putting the thought from her mind with a self-disgusted growl, she mounted the steps in front of the brothel. Her hand contacted the door and the delicate patterns of frost spreading out over the wood caught her eye for a second. How odd. It must be colder here than at the mansion. She’d never seen frost spread that fast before or for it to be so pretty.
Pushing the door open, she allowed herself a grim smile. The last time she’d been here, it had been the dead of the night and she’d snuck into the back entrance, hoping to hell that no one saw her. Today, she marched through the front door like a badass pixie warlady in charge.
Her spine stiffened as she walked in. She’d had a car drop her off at the end of the road so she could gather herself before facing all this shit. Tavi, the woman who ran the place, had called her not an hour ago to tell her that half her late husband’s warriors were holed up with two of the girls in the best room. Normally, not a problem. It was a brothel after all. The girls were here to work.
However, she knew for a fact they wouldn’t pay. They never did and often hurt the girls in the process. Something she intended to stamp out.
“Octavia?” she called out, frowning as she ventured further into the place. Lushly decorated, with couches and deep armchairs everywhere for the clients to relax and have a drink before they picked a girl for the evening—or the hour, whatever floated their boat—the place was usually at least half full, even at this time of day. Right now though, a tumbleweed would want for company.
“In here.”
The call came from up ahead on the left. The blue room. Opening her coat and shaking off the frost that was now melting in the warmth of the house, Joy headed that way.
“How many of them are the…” she asked, pushing open the door and walking into the room only to pause when she spotted Tavi. The older woman was sitting stiffly on a chair by the window. Behind her, a wicked dagger at her throat, stood Jakov, a nasty little smile on his face.
Instantly, she realized it was a setup. There were no warriors upstairs. She’d been conned.
The door clicked shut behind her. Schooling her expression, she kept her attention on Jakov. There had to be at least one, possibly two men behind her, but none of them would act alone. With Delin’s death, Jakov was next in line. Younger than Delin, he was just as much of an asshole and way more ambitious.
“Well, well…what a pleasant surprise this is, Lady Joy.” His voice was pleasant, as though this was a society function and they were all here for high tea and cakes. “I’m glad to see you taking an interest in the clan businesses. It bodes well.”
Joy gave a little shrug, keeping her movements fluid and elegant as she moved toward the drinks cabinet on the other side of the room. Anything to get away from the door and put her back to a wall… especially the one with the hidden door up to Tavi’s quarters. One problem, there was no way she was leaving without the other woman. Jakov would never let her live.
“And why would I not take an interest in one of my businesses?” Her voice was light and conversational as she poured herself a sherry. She hated the stuff but right at the moment she needed a distraction. Her heart pounded, unaccustomed adrenaline pouring through her system. Ignoring it and the fact her palms were slick with cold sweat, she turned around and studied him as she took a sip from her glass.
Tall and muscular like every other pixie warrior out there, she couldn’t hope to best him physically. He’d beat her in a heartbeat and no doubt cut her throat right after Tavi’s. No, she only had one chance and that was to get in close and use the spelled blade currently nestled in her pocket.
Small and barely longer than her little finger, it was nowhere near the length and lethality of the serrated blade he held, but it didn’t need to be. Spelled, it was called Slumber. All she needed to do was nick his skin with it and he would sleep for however long it took for the wound she inflicted to heal.
A tiny cut would keep him under for a few days… a bigger wound, longer. A mortal wound would kill him instantly, the enchantment not allowing his body any chance to recover.
She’d never used it to inflict more than a paper cut, but it had gotten her out of more than a few scrapes. Just get me out of one more, she prayed silently.
“Your businesses?” he chuckled, swiping his free hand through the bright violet spikes of his hair. “How cute. I’m sorry, my lady, but you need to be taught your place. The Krasniqis have never been led by a woman and never will be.”
“Is that so?” She moved closer, keeping a sofa between herself and the two silent pixies at the door. She recognized both—bulldogs of men who were unwaveringly loyal to whomever they chose as their leader. Unfortunately, from the looks on their faces, that wasn’t her. Yet. A bead of cold sweat slithered down her spine.
“I seem to be doing pretty well so far, wouldn’t you say?” She put the empty glass down on the windowsill and moved yet closer, until she had to look up at Jakov.
“But… I’m always on the lookout for strong warriors to…ahh…support my position, shall we say?” She dropped her gaze coyly, picking an imaginary fleck of dust off the back of the sofa by her hip as she slid her other hand in her pocket. He didn’t react to the movement, his gaze riveted on her face when she looked up. His expression was a cross between avid interest and lust.
“Oh, really?” His voice had dropped to a husky murmur and the dagger at Tavi’s throat dropped a little. Joy felt sick to her stomach as he moved forward, lifting his hand to touch her cheek. Fingers closing around Slumber’s handle, she gathered herself, waiting for the right moment to strike. Steeling herself for the fight of her life. As soon as she dropped Jakov, she’d have the two others to deal with as well. And they wouldn’t be fooled by the same trick twice.
“I think you and I can come to some sort of arrangement…” His fingers brushed her cheek, but before Joy could strike, he gasped. As she watched, his skin went blue, delicate patterns of frost spreading out over the surface. He stiffened, violet eyes suddenly filled with fear as he looked down at her… in fear of her.
His eyes glazed over with the whiteness of death and he toppled over backward to fall, rigid, to the floor. She winced as he fell, his body as motionless as a statue.
“What the fuck?”
The two pixies started forward but didn’t get more than half a step before the door exploded inward. Nick crashed through the gap, short swords a deadly whirl in the air. neither pixie stood a chance.
Three slashes and a stab and blood from one splattered up the wall in a scarlet arc while the other staggered backward, the bloody point of a sword erupting from his back. Without a glance at his victim, the
big pseudo-pixie shoved the dying man off his blade and advanced on her.
She’d barely had time to breathe in before he grabbed her, face a mask of anger, and shook her hard.
“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” he snarled, his blue eyes blazing. “You could have been killed!”
The shock, fear and adrenaline coursing through her body tightened into one hard knot and then exploded outward with fury.
“What the fuck!” she snarled and shook him off. “What did I think I was doing? What the hell business is it of yours what I do?”
He didn’t let her back up, following her until he had her trapped against the window, her ass against the deep ledge. Behind him, Octavia slipped from the room, closing the doors behind her.
Nick barely paid her any attention, looming over Joy and shoving his face into hers.
“You’re mine, remember?”
Oh, that just did it. Joy’s temper snapped, her lip curling back as she stabbed him in the center of the chest with a fingernail. “I think someone is taking their role a little far, don’t you? I. Am. Not. Yours. And I can damn well take care of myself.”
“Really? Sure felt like that this morning. And what do you guys say, might makes right? As for taking care of yourself…” His voice dropped dangerously. “Go on. Prove it.”
Her gasp was barely audible even in the silence of the room as she studied him. He seriously expected her to defend herself? Now? When he already had her at a disadvantage.
But his expression was hard and unyielding. He wouldn’t give her an inch, or an out, she just knew it. For a moment she felt a chill sweep over her skin, like a warning, and she moved without thinking. Ducking under his arm as he made to grab her, she reached into her pocket for her knife but he was already on her.