He’s close enough that he can almost taste her. And it takes all the self-control he can muster not to press his lips against the soft, supple curve of her neck.
The warmth of her breath flows over his skin. Her breathing is almost as erratic as her beating heart. Aden gazes down at Sophia. Her eyes are hooded, desire-ridden. The corner of his lip twitches then tugs upward into a wolfish grin.
He’s not the only one trying to rein in a raging libido. The thought amuses him.
“Thanks.” She manages to squeak out the word.
“Hey. I think the police are here.” Logan opens the front door.
“Do you remember what I said?” Aden brushes a curly strand of hair off her cheek then tucks it behind her ear.
“About the police?” Her voice is light, airy.
“Yes.”
She nods. “I remember.”
“We’ll discuss this matter later. And when we do, I’ll try and answer all of your questions then.”
Two officers enter the building. Harrison, short and stocky, takes the lead. He asks all the questions while Davis, bald and lanky stands, silent and stoned face, listening. Sophia explains the events in order, starting with the attack at the park, minus the supernatural occurrences.
The police advise Sophia to leave the premises until the building can be secured. She’s reluctant, at first, but after some coaxing, she agrees to stay at Aden’s apartment in the guest room. By the time the officers wrap up and leave, a couple of men wearing dark blue overalls show up.
“Hey,” Logan calls out. “I arranged for some guys to come out.” He approaches one of the men. “They’ll make sure the place is secure before they leave.
The workers, their faces are familiar. Aden’s seen them before. The men work diligently, inspect the door and windows, and then they take measurements. They step outside for a few minutes then return with sheets of plywood, which they use to board up the broken windows.
“We can hang a temporary door,” one of the men says, “but it won’t be a good fit.” He hands Logan a set of keys. “You want us to return tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah.” Logan runs a hand through his short, cropped hair. “But order the door before you come back. I want a rush put on it.”
“They can just board up the entrance.” Sophia chews on the inside of her lip. “Because I don’t know if I can—I mean with my uncle’s death—well, I don’t think I can afford—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.” Logan flashes a bright smile.
“What? Wait.” She shakes her head.
“Logan owns a security company that supplies home security equipment and fixtures—doors and such.” Aden scoops her up in his arms. “Plus, he has several men on staff who provide personal security...bodyguards, which we’ll have to talk about.”
He whisks her up in the air. A yelp passes her lips, and she clings to his shirt.
“He’s able to purchase products at a deep discount. So don’t worry about.” He steps outside, cradling her in his arms. “When we get to my place, I’ll take a closer look at your hand and ankle.”
Aden uses a key fob to unlock the Lexus that’s parked in front of the building. He opens the door then sits Sophia down on the passenger’s seat. His eyes linger longer than needed on her bare thighs.
A lock of hair springs loose from behind her ear and slides over her right eye. Aden loops the curl around his index finger then retucks it behind her ear.
He takes a deep breath and drinks in the alluring scent of her arousal that’s swirling around her. His erect cock strains against the fabric of his jeans, struggling for release. His inner gargouille wants her, desires her. And right now, her enthralling aroma has his cock begging for attention.
Chapter Seven
Sophia Mahoney
FLOOR TO CEILING WINDOWS line three sides of Aden’s high vaulted living room at The Broadway. Sophia, cradled in Aden’s arms, isn’t sure which way to look first. Her eyes drift between the furnishings and the widows. It’s dark outside, but light illuminates the swimming pool and surrounding water structures that are visible through the glass walls of the building.
Three oversized black leather couches form an open-ended square in the middle of the room. They open up to a large flat screen television that hangs from the ceiling. The smoky glass coffee table, in the middle of the room, is rectangular. A few pieces of pottery, which have a Mesoamerican design, are arranged on top of the sleek surface.
Aden’s wearing a light blue shirt, which brings out the color of his cobalt blue eyes, and the faded denim jeans he has on hug his body like a well-fitted glove. He smells good, really good like sandalwood. The earthy aroma lingers in the air and invades Sophia’s senses.
Her eyes come to rest on a large painting on a section of the wall. She tightens her hold around his neck, smiles, and then she whispers, “Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!”
“You’re quoting William Butler Yeats.” Aden’s left brow rises. “So, I take it you like literature.”
Sophia nods.
“Do you know who the painter was?” He stops in front of the hanging artwork.
“Van Gogh...1889, I believe.” Her lips curl up into a smile. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s titled ‘Olive Trees with the Alpilles in the Background.’ It’s an exquisite reproduction.”
“Then you’re a connoisseur of both art and literature?”
“Yep. I guess you could say that. After all, my uncle did own a bookstore.”
Aden sets her down on top of the center couch.
She has questions, but she’s not sure how or when to approach them. She chews on her lower lip then asks, “When will we talk about those things—the creatures?”
“Soon. Very soon.” He strokes his jaw, studying her then walks away.
The leather of the sofa is cool and soft to the touch. Sophia’s body sinks into the cushions. Goose bumps wash across her flesh, and she shivers. Later. He said, they’d talk later. But when?
She adjusts the shirt she’s wearing, and then she reaches for a pale, gray blanket draped over the arm of the sofa. It’s soft and smooth. And the fabric is lightweight. Laying her head back, Sophia takes in the surroundings. Several more Van Gogh reproductions line the living room walls.
What does Aden do for a living?
He seems to know a little bit about art. But she doesn’t think he works in the field. No. she pictures him as more of an architect or businessman than the artistic type. After all, he does have that confident air about him, which only seems to add to the overall sex appeal. Yeah. Not to mention he’s hot, really hot. And his voice, well, it makes her insides flutter. I’m attracted to him, and he knows it.
God, my life, doesn’t need to get any more complicated than it already is. One more year of school that’s all I have left. I don’t need any distractions, not now.
Sophia closes her eyes, and an image of Aden’s face washes across her thoughts. The intensity of his gaze makes her heart race. Encased in his strong arms, she feels safe. His touch makes her body come alive and tingle. She’s never felt anything remotely like it.
Sighing, Sophia thinks about the dream—his lips. They’re full and expressive. She’s left wondering what it would feel like to kiss him; moreover, what it would be like to have his lips caress every inch of her nude body. Her cheeks warm and her lips curl upward into a smile. God, now I sound like my best friend, Tara Thomas.
Uncle Hugo used to tell her to loosen up and live a little. But she’s not entirely sure this is what he was talking about. She shakes her head then blush from head to toe.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Crap. Sophia’s eyes flutter open. How did I not hear him enter the room? Her cheeks warm.
Aden takes in her form with a wolfish grin. In his hands, he has a first aid kit and a plush white towel. He sets the case down on top of the coffee table
and opens it. Meticulously, he slides on a pair of blue gloves then pulls the blanket from Sophia’s lap, exposing her legs.
Unfolding the towel, he drapes it across her legs. His fingertips glide over the sides of her bare thighs, and Sophia quivers under his touch. Goose bumps erupt up and down her body. And her reaction to Aden’s touch doesn’t go unnoticed by his astute eyes.
“You um...you said we’d talk about those things.”
“I did.” Kneeling next to the couch, Aden unwraps her wrist and hand. “What do you want to know?” He slides a damp cloth around the tender flesh to clean the wound.
Sophia inhales sharply. “What were they?”
His eyes appraise her. “They’re gargouille—gargoyles.”
“Gargoyles.” She shakes her head. “And you know this, how?”
“I know many things.” His voice is calm and soothing. “They’re from the Doccioner clan.” He continues to wipe her hand and arm. But his touch is tender, gentle.
“They said I was the hidden one—a white witch. Why?” Aden said those people—things—were from a clan, so how many more are there?
“Because you are.” He finishes cleaning her wrist and hand. Taking hold of her right calf, he examines the pad of her foot. “If your uncle was Hugo Tardif, then that makes your mother, Siena. And Grigoriy was your father. Am I correct?”
Sophia nods.
“As the child of Siena Mahoney and Grigoriy Rurikovich, you carry two very old bloodlines.” He runs his fingers over her arch. “If you are the hidden one, you’re very powerful.”
Her foot jets outward. A giggle erupts, passing her parted lips “Sorry. I’m ticklish.”
He looks at her with an arched brow; then he moves onto her left leg.
She scrunches her nose. “How do you know the names of my parents?”
“It’s public record. Plus, all the clans know of your family.”
“Clans.” There’s that word again. “How many are there?”
“There are many. Too many to list tonight.”
“Okay. If I’m this hidden person they’re looking for; then I’d be a witch, right?” Sophia avoids his gaze. “But I don’t have any powers, so none of this make sense.” Thoughts of the park incident flood her mind. “I don’t even believe in that stuff.” Did I shoot him up in the air? Or was it something else? My hands did get hot, and they felt funny, but powers, really?
“Your innate gifts may have been masked, suppressed in hopes to protect you.”
“What? Why? I don’t understand.”
“The best way to avoid detection would have been to cast a cloaking spell around you. Something your uncle was more than capable of.”
“Again. I don’t believe in magic, I don’t.”
“It doesn’t matter if you believe or not. If you’re the hidden one, then destiny can’t be changed.” He gingerly manipulates her swollen ankle. “Nothing appears broken. It looks as if you sprained it. I think it’ll be okay in a few days.”
He softly kisses the top of her foot. Rising onto his knees, he takes her wrist in his hands once again. Gently, he applies a couple of butterfly strips over the cut.
“Where did you learn first aid?”
Aden pulls off the gloves. “Let’s just say that I’m a Boy Scout.” He glances at her with probing eyes, and then he presses his mouth to her hand. His lips are warm.
“Boy Scout.” Sophia’s voice cracks then squeaks. “Yeah. Okay. And I’m Mary Poppins.”
He slides his body onto the couch next to her.
Sophia’s eyes are drawn to his mouth. “Are you different?”
“Yes. I am.”
“Do you have powers? Are you a witch?”
“No. I’m not.” He cups the right side of her face. “But if I were, I’d be a warlock. Only females are witches.”
She licks her lips, unable to pull her eyes away from his mouth. “What are you?” His lips. They’re full, inviting. They’re kissable lips.
“I’m part of the Grgul’ya Codex clan.”
His lips trail a hot path from the base of Sophia’s right jawline to her collarbone. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he draws her into a warm embrace.
“Wait.” Sophia’s heart races. “You’re like them?”
“Yes and no.” He eases her body down on top of the couch. “I’m gargouille...gargoyle, yes, but I’m not like them.” He claims her lips.
“No. Wait.” Pushing against his chest, she breaks the kiss. “This isn’t—”
“What’s wrong? Why have you stopped me? I know you desire me.”
“This is wrong—the two of us together—it’s not right.”
“Why?” He raises a brow. “We’re both fae; therefore, how is it wrong?”
Chapter Eight
Aden Clarkson
HE CLAIMS HER LIPS, once more. Aden’s tongue plunges into her mouth. His hand slides over her abdomen and her muscles tighten then contract under his palm.
The kiss, slow, at first, deepens. He draws in a breath and drinks in her sweet, intoxicating smell. His inner gargouille stirs. He wants her. He wants to take her and make her his.
Sophia moans then wraps her arms around his neck and draws him closer. She runs her tongue over his lower lip, and he sucks the tip up into his mouth. Aden releases her tongue then gently nibbles on her lips.
He breaks the kiss then whispers, “How was that for our first kiss?”
“Hmm...Deja Va,” she speaks the words softly. “I mean—”
He grins and holds her eyes with a hot gaze. “Was it as good as your dream, or better?”
Sophia’s face flushes. “What? Why would you ask me something like that?”
“I told you; it was a shared dream?”
Her jaw drops. “Wait. Does that mean that Logan was there too?”
“Yes.” He chuckles. “And by the way, red is a good color for you.” He nuzzles her neck. “Now, answer my question. How did the kiss compare?”
Aden’s inner gargouille can hear every erratic beat of her racing heart. And he knows exactly how that kiss went, and how it affected her. Hell, he knows how he’s still affecting her now because her growing arousal speaks for itself.
His fingers trace the bend of her neck. “So, are you going to tell me or not?”
“Mmm...you’re an extraordinary kisser, but something tells me, you know that.”
“There’re many things I excel at. Shall I show you?”
Aden cups her knees under the towel. He slides up her legs, and her body tenses.
“Stop,” Sophia says, breathless. Sitting up, she grabs hold of his hands. “You’re a gargoyle.”
“And you’re a white witch, which means our houses are intertwined. That’s why we’re drawn to each other.” He presses his lips against her neck. “Plus, you summoned me.”
“Wait. What do you mean our houses intertwine—that I summoned you?”
“The dream, you summoned me to join you. And regarding our houses being connected, that’s a tale for another time.” His hands glide over her upper thighs. “Lie back and relax. You’ve had a stressful day.”
Sophia cocks her head to the side. “And you presume to know how to make it better?”
“I don’t presume, I know.” Her lips, swollen and full, beg for his attention. “Now, will you allow me to make your day better?” His mouth hovers inches above her.
“Okay.” She swallows hard. “Give it your best shot.”
Claiming her mouth, he teases and coaxes until her lips part, granting him access. The kiss deepens and leaves her breathless when they part lips.
Aden trails a hot path over her jaw and down her neck, stopping just above the collar of the shirt she’s wearing. Taking her hands in his, he carefully pulls them overhead, avoiding her bandaged wound.
Sliding a hand down her side and over her hip, Aden’s fingertips brush over her thigh. Gently, he eases his hand between her pressed knees. Pausing, briefly, he gazes into her eyes, searching, trying to read
her response to his advances.
Her arousal, thick and alluring, swirls around them. He pulls the collar of the shirt she’s wearing to the side and leaves a row of kisses down to the top of her covered breast. She moans and her tense body relaxes. Aden wraps a hand around her right knee, pulling her leg against his frame.
Aden slides a hand beyond her upper thigh and over the bend of her leg. He skims the tip of his finger around the pink quivering flesh he desires, that he craves. His touch makes her gasp. He slides his wet fingertip up to her clitoris and her body shudders.
“Mmm...” Sophia moans then arches her back. Her hands press against his chest.
Aden continues to stimulate her throbbing flesh in slow, steady circles. The warmth of her skin, the contact, it makes his body feel as if it’s buzzing with energy.
“Oh, my God,” she whimpers, “that’s intense.”
She laces her fingers through his hair and pushes his head away from her neck.
A low, throaty growl reverberates deep in his chest. Aden encases her wrists in a firm, but gentle grasp then guides Sophia’s hands back over her head.
Her eyes flutter open.
“Don’t move your hands.” Aden cups her chin, tipping it upward. He repositions her hips, presses his body against hers, pinning her to the couch, and then he covers her mouth with his.
Sophia’s thigh muscles tremble. She draws her legs inward.
But Aden has positioned his body between her knees, which now prevents her from closing her legs. He resumes his steady, sweet assault on her body with his hand.
Sophia moans into his mouth.
Aden slides his hand from her chin to the top button of the shirt she’s wearing.
Her eyes widen, and she lifts her arms, fanning her hands out over his chest.
Aden glances into her eyes, shaking his head. With a tender touch, he encases her wrists again and places her hands back overhead.
Goose bumps wash over her body. Her nipples harden and peak through the shirt. Like clockwork, he systematically releases each button. The fabric, he pushes it aside and slides a hand over her quivering flesh.
Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set Page 201
