Red Hot Candy (22 All-New Delicious Romance Books by Best-Selling Authors about Alpha Males, Billionaires, Cowboys, and More for Your Summer Reading) (Red Hot Boxed Sets)

by Dani Dundee

“We can’t do that, stop asking. And don’t call us by those nicknames, you know we hate that.”

  “Well, you know I hate when you call me Atropos, and I don’t hear you stopping that.”

  “By Zeus, you’re so infuriating! Call me when you’ve decided you’re going to act normal again—”

  “Wait, don’t hang up … Lachesis.”

  Lachesis waits at the other end of the line, seemingly mollified by my surrender to her demand.

  “If I gave you a name … Could you tell me how much more time that person has to live?”

  “I could,” she answers immediately.

  My mind starts spinning like crazy. What would be an acceptable amount of time left, if I were to be involved with the one my heart has beat for since last night? What would be too few? Could I … Could I maybe interfere with Clotho and ask her to weave more thread for him? Ask Lachesis to measure it farther? All those ideas I have never allowed myself to entertain are now demanding to be thought of.

  “But I wouldn’t,” she says, stopping me right there in my tracks.

  I almost fear to ask. “Why?”

  “It’s none of your business, who lives how many years. You just have to know when to cut the thread. Leave the rest to us.”

  All those thoughts I just had are still bouncing around in my head, and I find I’m unable to let them go. The unfairness of it all is almost too much to bear.

  “I’m e-mailing you the list of your cuts for today. Don’t be late,” she says, hanging up.

  ***

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I kind of hate my job. Someone has to do it, of course, but I wish somehow it was something more than what it is—cutting lives with my shears.

  When I arrive at the bar way sooner than the time of my date, Cupid’s not there yet. Some of the staff are busy around the place, cleaning or—rarely—bringing a drink to a patron. I sit at the same place I sat the day before, and the tall guy I saw yesterday starts working on another gigantic drink for me, with fruits on the side of the glass and lots of cherries at the bottom.

  “Thanks, I really needed this,” I say when he puts the tall glass in front of me.

  “Tough day at work?” he asks. I open my mouth to complain a little, but he adds, “What am I saying? It must be really tough every day.”

  I look at him, one eyebrow raised. How does he know? Has Cupid told him about me? Probably. That little cherub is not capable of keeping a secret.

  “Oh, no,” he says reassuringly. “Cupid didn’t tell a soul. Some of us just have our ways of knowing things.”

  “Who are you? What do you know? And how?” I demand.

  “My name is Cal, but you don’t know me. I’m … a mind reader. That’s why I can answer out loud whatever question you ask in your head. And I don’t know you … I know of you. You ended the life of my mother a few years ago.”

  Cold sweat drips down my back. This never happens—meeting someone who knows who I am, and what I do, and who has relatives or loved ones of the human kind. I have never had to face the son of one of my victims before.

  “I—I’m sorry about that. I have no other choice, you know—“

  He raises one hand, shaking his head. “Don’t apologize for who you are.”

  I feel the need to cry. Here is one victim of my awful duty. And I don’t even remember his mother—I kill so many each day.”

  “This is what you do. You have to do it. People die, that’s the way humans exist.”

  “I’m not sure it is an excuse for my existence.”

  “You kill, but you’re not the one measuring.”

  I look at him behind the tears pooling in my eyes. This guy seems to know a lot about the Fates.

  “You do your job with kindness. You’re not a monster. You do what you have to do. There can’t be immortal humans on Earth—the overpopulation would be too much to handle for our planet. Not enough resources …”

  “Kindness? Death is not kind.”

  “Death is nothing, it just is. You have gone out of your way to end lives kindly. I remember that—I was in the room when you cut my mother’s thread.”

  I raise my hand over my mouth, stopping a sob.

  “She was not angry, you know. She did not bear you any ill will. In the end, she only thought about what she did with her life, and the people she would get to see again on the other side. It was very sweet, and though I lost my mom, I could not have wished her a better death than the one you brought.”

  “I’m so sorry … Zeus, I hate my job,” I say, tears flowing freely now.

  “I know,” he says, his hand on mine. “But death is a part of life. It’s natural. Everything dies, eventually.”

  “Blah blah blah, she already knows that—or she should, after all those years.” Cupid jumps on his usual barstool behind the bar and waves Cal away.

  Cal smiles at me once more, encouragingly, and then goes back to his job.

  “Death is a part of all human relationships. You know that, but you’re making me repeat myself. So you will be the one outliving Michael? So what? Bitch, if people didn’t fall in love because their loved one could die—in ten years, a month, a day!—then I’d be out of business, and the world would be a sadder place to live in.”

  “I’ve always made sure not to get involved with humans. They’re too fragile. I’ve always kept my distance, careful not to fall in love, even though I have come very close. But now, thanks to you, I don’t have a choice in the matter anymore.”

  “Puah,” he shrugs, “if you think you ever had a choice, I’d happily let you believe that. No worries, just piss all over my job.”

  “Sorry,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “I don’t know what I am saying. It’s just that … I’ve never let myself feel this way. And now there’s Michael and all these feelings I don’t know what to do with.”

  “I bet he would have a good idea of what you could do with them. I also have some less kind suggestions, which would be to shove your feelings where the sun don’t shine if you can’t enjoy the gift of love I’ve given you. Maybe you don’t deserve it after all. So go ahead and avoid that guy. You won’t get too attached that way, but I do hope you’ll think about it and realize what an error this would be before you do that, though.”

  “I’m not sure I can stay away from him now,” I say, and I can feel in my bones how true that is when I hear myself say it.

  “You only have two choices, babe,” Cupsy says, his voice kinder now. “You can stay away, and you’ll still hurt like crazy when his time to die comes. Or you can try love, and enjoy every single minute of it—because it could be the last one.”

  “Just like most people on the planet?” I say, sniggering through my tears.

  “Yup, bitch. Like all those other fuckers,” he says, gesturing toward the crowd that has started to come in the bar. “Look how fucking happy they are.”

  ***

  CHAPTER SIX

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t be here,” Michael says as he sits down at my table. “I thought maybe I had been too bold the other night and scared you away.”

  “Not at all,” I answer, trying to smile. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”

  “You seem sad, lovely lady. Please tell me what’s on your mind. I’m ready to slay any dragons bothering you, just say the word.”

  His eyes are honest, pure. I have no idea who Michael is inside that pretty exterior, but the truth is shining in his eyes. He is not a deceitful person.

  You have absolutely no trust in me, do you?

  “Michael, let’s go some place else … please? I would like to talk to you in a less noisy environment.”

  “I’ll follow you anywhere, Aisa,” he says, his eyes locking with mine. “You amaze me … It’s like I’ve been struck by lightning.”

  It’s called a coup de foudre, dumbass.

  “Let’s go,” I say, taking his hand and pulling him out of LoveSick. I love Cupsy, but I have a hard time not strangling him when he makes his commentaries.r />
  We walk in silence for a minute, and I automatically head toward my neighborhood. This is as good a place as any. “Come see where I live.”

  “Are you sure?” he says, hesitating.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure in my life. I really want you to stay with me tonight … I have a lot I want to ask you.”

  “Anything you want.”

  “Anything? Well, there are many things I want. The first one is to get to know you better. I want to know what you’re like. Are you sweet? You look sweet.”

  He steps in front of me, takes my hand and puts it on his heart. “I’ll be the sweetest guy you’ve ever known,” he swears, and for the second his face lingers next to mine, I wonder if he is going to kiss me. But the moment passes, and he pulls away, so I get up on my toes to chase his mouth with mine. My lips touch his, lightly, and the world seems to stop.

  His eyes look into mine, surprised but burning with intensity, and he erases the space between us, crushing his lips on mine with passion. Though the kiss is intense, his hands and arms constrict slowly and lightly around my waist, with care—as if I were as fragile as crystal.

  “You’re bolder than I thought,” he says, releasing me slowly. “You’ve surprised me, pretty lady.”

  “Take me back home,” I say, putting my hand in his.

  A few minutes later, we’re there. He follows me up the stairs of the building, silent as a cat—so silent I have to turn around a few times to make sure he’s still here.

  I turn on the light of the apartment, and turn around to face him. “Would you care for something to drink?”

  “Thank you,” he says, and he follows me into the open kitchen next to the living room. His tall and muscular frame makes the furniture look like something from a doll’s collection. As I reach toward the coffee maker to grab the water pot, he puts his hand on mine and slides between me and the machine.

  “Let me do that, pretty lady,” he says, one hand on my chin.

  He seems very at ease in my kitchen. I’m not used to having people here—mostly people stay in the living room, the few friends I have. And I’m clearly not used to see people making themselves at home here … But Michael seems to belong everywhere, and he has already, without my permission, set up his home into my heart.

  As the coffee is brewing, he turns to face me, and says, “I want us to get to know each other better, Aisa. Are you willing, too?”

  “I don’t see any other option, Michael.”

  “I feel I need to tell you about me first. I have a lot to tell you about my past, and I’m anxious to see if you’ll want nothing to do with me anymore after that, or if you can somehow get past that.”

  Oh? Somehow, the idea that his past might frighten me is as ridiculous as my sudden need to hear about it. Because it might give me a hand to break Cupid’s spell? … Not really … more because then I’d feel less like the monster I am. In any case, I’m not a good person to rejoice at his being less than perfect, am I?

  “I want you to tell me. I need you to tell me,” I say, trying to stay composed.

  Michael leans on the kitchen counter, his eyes far away all of a sudden, reminiscing.

  “I’ve been a soldier since I could hold a gun. I come from a broken, destructive home, and the Army has been my family ever since I was eligible to enlist.

  “I have been shipped all over the world, on missions, because I was one of the best at what I did. I never got promoted because I have never been ambitious—but I got a lot of medals for my courage in battle.”

  So that was his shameful secret … I would have deduced he was in the Army, even if he hadn’t told me, what with his jacket and the way he moves and the way he is built—so muscular. But there was more to know.

  “Being a soldier … It’s not always easy. Sometimes, you have to follow orders that go against what your heart dictates. I’ve … I’ve killed in the line of duty. I have no way to know if those people were innocents, or killers themselves, and frankly I don’t want to make a distinction. I didn’t want to kill anyone—a soldier who wants to shed no blood; ridiculous, isn’t it? But when it came to that, it was kill or be killed.”

  I can see his eyes are seeing events far away, in the past. He brushes a hand over his eyes, chasing away the moisture that is forming there.

  “I know I can never forgive myself. I think about it every day. So I can understand if you’d rather not spend another minute with me.”

  He’s not looking at me, waiting for my answer. The way his head hangs seems to indicate he’s not very hopeful.

  How courageous he must have been to face his demons, to bare his soul in front of me like he did. We’re more than strangers now, I can feel it—be it because Cupid’s arrow has brought us together, or maybe because somehow we’re one and the same, just a different kind of regretful monster. I wonder if he feels it too.

  “I know exactly what you feel,” I say, taking a step to be in his arms, which he wraps around me without thinking. One eyebrow raised, he waits for me to clarify my thoughts.

  “I know that, as a military man, you’ll understand when I say that I can’t tell you any details about what I do … It’s—” I struggle to find the right word. “It’s classified.”

  He nods, and a spark of curiosity and understanding goes through his eyes.

  “Just know that I have the same struggle as you do … And that’s why I have such a hard time dating at all.”

  One of my hands strokes his arm gently.

  “I’ve often wondered if I could ever find love,” I say, looking down. “But somehow with you right now, I have no doubt I can be myself … If you accept that we can never, ever talk about my work together.”

  “Never?”

  “No, not a word.”

  “I understand,” he says, and he draws me closer into his arms, making my back arch as he bows down to kiss me.

  The kiss is sweet, nothing like the one we exchanged in the street earlier, and that only makes me want more. I can’t help wondering about how compatible we might be—the least of my concerns. It would be a shame if this gorgeous man was shy in the bedroom. So far he has treated me like something precious, breakable … when I am immortal and possess greater strength than he can dream of.

  I grab him by the chin, making him look me in the eyes.

  “Now you are going to make love to me. Right now.”

  ***

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Michael wastes no time. His powerful arms grab me and draw me even further into his embrace while his mouth searches hungrily for mine. I surrender to his kiss, closing my eyes as his lips trail down my throat. My hands hide themselves in his short, messy hair, pulling him to me.

  “All that time, away from here … I saw my brothers thinking about their girlfriends back home, and I wished I had someone to think about like they did,” he confesses between two kisses.

  I raise my hand and caress his jaw, waiting for him to finish his thought.

  “I’m glad I didn’t,” he says. “I would have given up anything for you to be mine. Anyone.” He gives me another kiss, sweet again. “I’m so attracted to you, ever since the other night at the club … It’s like you’re my gravity. I’m just pulled toward you.”

  “I feel the same way too,” I say, giddy that we are declaring ourselves so easily. “I’ve been fighting it, but it was love at first sight.”

  You’re welcome, babe. Now that you’ve accepted your love for each other, I have no purpose in your head anymore. I’ll leave you two to it … Have fun, if you know what I mean!

  I can all but hear his eyebrow waggle in my head … That damn Cupid … Thank you, I think, as Michael’s amazing green eyes become more intense and he lifts me up, walking straight toward the only other room of the apartment: my bedroom.

  I’m surprised when he puts me down before entering the room. I start turning around to face him and try to understand what’s happening, but his hands capture my wrists and he pushes m
e, gently but firmly, so that my face is against the wall near my bedroom’s door.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” he growls into my ear. His knee hikes up my dress, sliding between my legs, pushing right against the perfect spot.

  I let out a sigh, leaning into the wall submissively. I was afraid he was … maybe a little too sweet for me. My entire body trembles in anticipation when I realize how wrong I was about that.

  As soon as he feels that I’m not fighting his attentions, he lets go one of my hands and hikes my dress even higher in the front, slowly sliding his fingers into my panties. I just want to die here and now. He finds the right spot right away, circling it and caressing it again and again. I can feel my breath becoming deeper, and my pulse is faster, beating into my throat.

  He doesn’t seem to want to stop, and his regular rhythm as he rubs my clit pushes me towards the verge of an orgasm. I try to turn to face him, wanting to give him pleasure too, but he stops me with his other hand. “Let yourself enjoy this,” he commands, his firm voice low into my ear—tempting. “The night is not over, pretty lady.”

  Michael keeps moving his hand into my panties, unrelenting, as I feel an orgasm rising slowly. When I cannot wait any longer, I start shaking no with my head, feeling guilty to come this way—alone, at the mercy of his fingers—and he growls into my ear as he intensifies his touching. At that sound, and with the persistence of his hand as well as the bulge poking my butt repeatedly through his jeans, I let go. My body starts shaking in spite of me, and my knees feel weak, but he keeps me grounded and pins me against the wall, not letting go until I stop trembling.

  “I— I came—” I say, finding it hard to calm my heart.

  “I know. Get used to it,” says Michael into my ear.

  His hand leaves my panties to lift my dress from behind, and he lets go of my wrist to open his trousers—I hear the distinctive, arousing sound his zipper makes. The bulge I felt earlier is now poking me harder than before, right between my buttocks, rubbing against the fabric of my panties. Michael’s finger pushes them to the side, leaving access for his penis to touch my skin.