Stranger Series Box Set

by Heather C. Myers

  He seemed to love the column of her throat. It was wear his lips were fixated the majority of the time, though it did wander when the moment called for it. Her hands touched everything on him, every piece of him she wanted to touch: his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen, his hips, his back, and most definitely his butt.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” she said, breaking apart for air and because through the haze, her mind still had one thought that would not leave her alone. “You have protection, right?”

  “I— what?” It would seem he needed a moment to gather what thoughts he had left as well. “Of course I do.”

  “Good.” She paused. “Wait, did you know this was going to happen?”

  Daryl chuckled, making Jane blush. “I wasn’t sure what to expect,” he told her. “Regardless, I wanted to be prepared.” He stopped, his eyes burning inside of her. How was it possible that eyes could make her burn with desire and freeze her in place at the same time? “I know I wanted it to happen.”

  His honesty caught her off-guard, and she didn’t know how to respond. In fact, she wasn’t sure how they were supposed to resume their passion after a logical conversation like that. Had she killed the mood? Would he still want to do it with her?

  But Daryl didn’t bat an eye. He took out his protection and put it on in one fluid motion. It was so seamless, so natural, that Jane didn’t notice a change in tempo or a shift in atmosphere. Once it was on, he immediately resumed kissing her, his entire being devoted to giving her pleasure.

  He explored every inch of her with both his mouth and his hands. When she was ready for him, he slid inside of her as gently as he could. Jane bit back a whimper of pain; she hadn’t realized it would hurt. But Daryl took his time and waited for her to get used to his size. Burying her fingernails into his back also distracted her from it.

  He started moving, slowly at first, back and forth. Jane didn’t really know what the sensation was supposed to feel like. It didn’t feel bad … but it also didn’t feel great, either. Not sensational like everyone made it seem. However, she did feel whole, content with him inside of her.

  It was only when Jane quieted her mind and closed her eyes did things start to get better. The minute she did that, her other senses sharpened. She could hear Daryl’s moans of pleasure. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek and his weight on top of her, and when he hit that spot right there—

  She couldn’t stop her own moan of pleasure.

  Jane’s eyes snapped open, and she pressed her lips together, embarrassed. Daryl noticed. Chuckled.

  “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he told her. He continued to rock inside of her in a steady motion, even while speaking with her. “I like it when you moan. It means I’m doing something right.”

  Jane fluttered her eyelashes shyly at him, but nodded. It took more coaxing, but she was finally able to reach the state she had been in. Daryl sat up and, while continuing his motion, reached down and began to fondle the nub between her folds.

  She gasped.

  The pleasure built up. She was almost worried it would be rushed and it would happen too soon so she couldn’t enjoy her first real orgasm. But it wasn’t. It was slow, but with every thrust, it built up until the point where she reached the top, took a step off the cliff—

  That moment right before she fell, right before the shockwaves of pleasure made her body shudder, was what Jane imagined flying felt like. She clung to him desperately, her face buried into his shoulder, her fingers buried in his back. She thought he hissed, but wasn’t sure if it was the sensation of her shuddering around him, the fact that he had reached his own climax in conjunction with hers, or because of the pain. Maybe it was all three.

  When he released himself inside of her, he made a sound that was similar to a groan and a grunt together, with a hint of a whimper to top it all off. Jane smiled to herself. It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. It let her know that he was satisfied, that he felt pleasure she, alone, had given him.

  She loosened her grip on him, but did not release him. She couldn’t stop smiling and wanted to keep him close to her, even if they weren’t talking just yet. Even if they weren’t looking at each other.

  Then, “You okay?” He paused, shifted, picked his head up so he could look at her. Even though he slipped out from her, he wasn’t ready to leave her proximity just yet. “I didn’t … hurt you, did I?”

  Her smile widened, and she didn’t know why. She felt like a fool, a crazy, grinning fool.

  This was what love must feel like, she thought to herself. Real, true love that you feel with your body, your heart, and your mind. The kind that shakes your soul.

  “I’m more than okay, Daryl Depogare,” she told him, slightly breathless. Jane didn’t care. She didn’t care how she sounded or how wild her hair looked or that there had been a couple of embarrassing noises during the activity that she hoped to God wouldn’t affect them. None of that mattered. It was trivial in the grand scheme of things. “You were … It was …” She was babbling. She couldn’t control it. “I’m just glad that it was you.”

  Daryl rolled off of her now, but wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. One arm was thrown over his head, his eyes closed. He smiled when he heard her words.

  “I am, too,” he said. “Though, I do think you’ve given me another set of tattoos with just your nails.”

  Jane chuckled to herself, her face turning red. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  “I’m not,” he said. His hand cupped her shoulder and then outlined her body, moving up and down with her curves. “I have been around for a long time,” he told her seriously, “and in that time, I have never come across anything or anyone so nearly as lovely and as beautiful as you are.”

  Jane opened her mouth to respond, but found that no words came out. She couldn’t talk. He had rendered her speechless. She smiled at him and kissed his lips.

  “I really love kissing you,” she told him, settling her head on the crook of his shoulder.

  He responded, but she didn’t hear him. She had already fallen asleep.

  33

  Brielle wasn’t one to exercise in the morning. She didn’t like strenuous activity, which was why she wasn’t part of any AckPec sports teams. In fact, she didn’t even enjoy watching sports, let alone participate in them. However, after everything that had happened, she decided to wake up early and take a couple of laps around the soccer fields to clear her head and take a moment for herself.

  It was a bitter February morning. There was no breeze, but the air still pinched her cheeks like an aunt would pinch a baby, causing the blood to rush to the tip of the skin and make her face glow pink. Her brown hair was thrown into a sloppy French braid, and there was a semi-new pair of sneakers on her feet she had received at the beginning of the school year and had only worn once. Her hands were shoved in the middle pocket of her plain white hoodie, and the lower half of her face was tucked in the opening of said hoodie, as another way to attempt to keep warm.

  Kessler was already gone from her room, at his station in the Ack Building. No one would visit him, she knew, with injuries or illness, but he liked his independence just as much as she did, so she wasn’t bothered by him waking up even earlier than she had to leave. Their relationship was still new; they were still trying to figure everything out, including where they stood with each other and what was expected between them.

  To be honest, relationships in general were completely new to her. She had had crushes on boys before, but nothing came from it, save from awkward glances and bright blushes. This was on a completely different level, and she appreciated the fact that they were taking it slow, in order to build up that friendship, that relationship in a way where their ground was strong and their knowledge was brimming to the edge. She had never even kissed a boy before Kessler. In fact, a part of her worried about French kissing and how to know when to use her tongue, how to use her tongue. The whole thing freaked her out, and she refused to
think about it unless she absolutely had to.

  To be honest, she had been worried about the whole physical aspect of relationships. The movies made it look so easy, so natural. Everyone—even the truly inexperienced—seemed to know what they were doing, and everyone involved always felt immeasurable pleasure and satisfaction afterward. She had no idea how to inflict such pleasure, or how to guarantee such satisfaction. Thankfully, Kessler didn’t notice. Either that, or he was too much of a gentleman to say anything. They were taking all areas of their relationship slow, and she appreciated that Kessler was willing to be patient. She was almost positive he was more familiar with those things, and the fact that he was willing to wait caused her not only relief but much affection for him.

  The more she thought about Kessler, the more she realized she didn’t really know that much about his past. But did it matter? She thought the only thing that really mattered was the fact that he was who he was now. It didn’t matter what he did to get here; he was here, and that was what counted. Did you really need to know someone’s past to love them? Brielle couldn’t say, but she did know she was curious about him, about his family, and maybe even about his previous relationships. Perhaps, one day, he would feel comfortable enough with her to share.

  Noise broke her out of her thoughts.

  Brielle frowned. It was in the afternoon, but the campus was practically empty. There wasn’t anyone else here besides certain faculty members and her, Sophie, and Jane. Her eyes looked behind her, toward the entrance of the school, trying to make out where, exactly, it was coming from.

  There.

  A figure was running in her direction. Yelling something. Brielle squinted, trying to make the person out. She couldn’t understand what he was shouting, but she knew it had to be important. Then, a familiar flash of golden brown hair.

  It was Jason.

  What was he still doing here?

  The minute he spotted her, he changed his direction and headed to her. Brielle glanced behind her to make sure Jason’s target was her and not someone else. When she saw no one else, she immediately attempted to figure out what he was yelling about and why he was running so fast toward her. Like something was chasing him. Like he needed help.

  “Jason, are you—” she began once he was within earshot, but he interrupted her.

  “’s Sophie.” He stopped when he reached her and bent forward, placing his hands on his knees in order to catch his breath. “Has her. Had my family. I couldn’t stop him. Sophie needs help.”

  Brielle leaned forward too, so Jason could lock eyes with her. “Hey,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “Jason. You’re not making any sense. Take a breath, and tell me what’s going on. But slowly.”

  Jason nodded and did as she instructed him. When he was finally able to speak, he said, “Arbuckle has Sophie. He used me to lure her to him. I couldn’t stop him, even if I tried. I ran. Sophie needs help. I don’t know why, but he wants her.”

  The color drained from Brielle’s face. “We need to tell Will,” she said.

  “I-I can’t,” Jason said, and had the decency to look away, ashamed. “I have to go. I’m going to miss my ferry if I don’t. I just … I just needed to get her help. I needed to know someone would get her. But it’s not me.”

  “Jason, come on—”

  Brielle stopped herself short when he turned around and left, not even bothering to listen to what she had to say. Brielle needed to get to Will, and she needed to get to him fast. She couldn’t enter the Ignis Dorm unless someone signed her in, but she had the ability to call someone to do so. When she reached the building, she pressed Will’s call button.

  No answer.

  When he tried it again, a gruff voice barked, “What do you want?”

  “Will?” Brielle asked, tentative. “It’s Brielle. I just got word. Sophie’s in trouble.”

  “What? I thought she was in her room.”

  Brielle shook her head, and then remembered that he couldn’t see her. “Someone has her,” she explained. “At least, that was what Jason told me.”

  “Jason?” A pause. “I’ll be down in a couple of minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Brielle was actually surprised that Will was down in two minutes exactly. He hadn’t put much thought into his appearance besides his usual muscle shirt and sweatpants. His hair was still wild and unruly, and sleep still rested in his eyes. However, he looked sharp, focused, and determined to get to the bottom of why Brielle was here.

  “Explain,” he commanded the minute he saw her.

  Brielle told him everything Jason had told her: that he had lured Sophie away from the academy, that Arbuckle had her, that Arbuckle threatened Jason’s parents and that was why he did what he did, that Sophie needed him, that Jason left so he could catch a ferry off the island and check on his family.

  “Why did he go to you?” Will asked.

  Brielle shrugged, not offended by his question. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I was the only one out.”

  “I have to go.”

  “I want to come, too,” Brielle said.

  “I can’t have you risk yourself, kid,” Will told her.

  “You’re not leaving without me.” The words came out of her mouth strong and sure. Will’s eyes widened at her tone, like he hadn’t expected her to be so forceful. To be honest, Brielle felt the same way. She hadn’t expected it, either, but she wasn’t going to back down. “I can help Sophie if she needs me. I can heal her. Sophie’s my friend, and I don’t have a lot of those. She stuck by me after everything. There’s no way I’m going to leave her now.”

  “I wouldn’t argue with her,” a voice said from behind Brielle.

  There was Kessler, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and his Nike tennis shoes. Unlike Will, he did not look as if he had rolled out of bed. Then again, it didn’t take Kessler long to get ready anyway. Sometimes, he didn’t even run a brush through his short, brown hair. He definitely didn’t iron unless he thought he absolutely had to and didn’t care about matching his shoes with his outfit.

  “She may look demure, but she isn’t.”

  Brielle felt her lips curl up, and she had to stop herself from running up to him and throwing her arms around his lean frame.

  “She’s also good at what she does,” Kessler said, his blue eyes focused on Will. “I can’t speak for her fighting abilities, but I wouldn’t trust anyone else with the task of healing someone or myself over Brielle.”

  “Fine,” Will said, “but you do exactly as I say without question.”

  “Absolutely,” Brielle said.

  “All right, let’s go,” Will said, turning to the garage. “We’ve gotta go now.”

  “I’ll be there in a sec.”

  Before she could stop herself, Brielle closed the distance between her and Kessler, taking everyone by surprise including herself, and pulled him into a deep kiss. It took Kessler a moment to respond, but once he realized what was happening, he responded with more passion than Brielle expected from him. His hands wrapped around her waist, not too tight, but with enough pressure to provide stability and security. Brielle pressed her chest against his, smothering themselves of any gaps that might slip between them. Her hands cupped his face, pulling him down even further. He was much taller than she was, after all, and she didn’t want to give either of them any reason to break apart unless they absolutely had to.

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” Will said, a feet from them. “Are you coming or not?”

  Brielle started laughing, and it was only then that they had to let go.

  “What was that for?” Kessler asked in his gruff way, his voice low so Will could only hear if he wanted to.

  Brielle shrugged. “I’m just lucky to have you in my life,” she told him. “I didn’t get that until this moment.” A beat. “I love you, Greg.”

  He made a face. “That sounded weird,” he said, then quickly amended, “The Greg part.”

  “I know,” Brielle replied. “I’ll stick to Kessle
r from now on.” She beamed at him.

  “Oh.” His eyes were twinkling. “I love you, too.”

  “Are you guys finished?” Will yelled. He had walked a good distance further, and if Brielle wanted to go with Will, she would have to run to catch up. “We have important things to do.”

  This time, Brielle couldn’t help but laugh. “I should go,” she said.

  Kessler nodded once. “You should,” he agreed. He tugged on her wrist, stopping her for a bit longer. Brielle watched as he brought her wrist to his lips and kissed it. It was like a caress, soft and delicate. “Brielle.” Suddenly, he looked serious. Worried almost. But that couldn’t be right. Even in dire circumstances with the worst patients, Kessler was not one to waste energy on something as pointless as worry. “Come back to me.”

  But he was worried. About her. Because even though he talked a big game about Brielle being independent and capable of making her own decisions about what she wanted to do, he still worried about her. Her safety. And what it would mean to him if anything happened to her.

  That, right there, meant more to her than she expected it to.

  He released her wrist, only to have her stand on her toes and give him one last, lingering kiss. “Always,” she promised, and then turned around and dashed after Will.

  34

  It was the most beautiful day in the world to Jane, and the sun hadn’t even risen. She didn’t sleep much last night, and not for obvious reasons. She was too content, too happy, to do any resting. Her heart was thundering with joy the way women’s heels clattered on the dance floor to their favorite song. Her skin glowed like halos over an angel’s face. Her thoughts were diving and swimming and floating in her mind, but never did they drown. Not when they had Daryl to keep her afloat.

  From her peripheral, she noticed her lover lying next to her, his eyes closed, his breathing even. Jane didn’t think she had seen him look so relaxed in the years that she knew him, and though he didn’t look much younger than she did on an average day, now he looked even younger. Like they could possibly be the same age.