by I. T. Lucas
Ruth giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “That’s funny.”
“And don’t even start me on her antics to get out of doing her chores…”
15
Turner
“Are you excited?” Bridget asked as they boarded the plane.
Turner shrugged. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the wedding, but excited wasn’t the right term.
Satisfied? Maybe.
Accomplished? As if Douglas's marriage had anything to do with him. Still, was it not a father’s duty to see his children married?
There was one thing that stirred the rusted strings of his heart, though. “I’m more excited about the prospect of becoming a grandfather.”
“Right, I get it. I would be ecstatic if Julian made me a grandmother. I adore babies.” She sighed. “If you were closer to Douglas, then maybe we could invite him and his wife for a visit. And when the baby comes, we could go visit them, and I could get my baby fix.”
It hadn’t been the first time Bridget had mentioned wanting to meet Douglas and his fiancée, she’d even mentioned getting together with Nancy and Peter. As if Turner had any desire to hang out with those two.
He wondered why she was interested in them, though.
Was she curious about the only other woman he’d had a meaningful relationship with? Not that in retrospect it had been particularly meaningful.
The first sexual relationship had a way of messing with people’s heads. The intimacy and intensity often got confused with love. Not that he’d loved Nancy, but he’d felt something.
He hadn’t been her first, but she’d been his, and he’d wanted to hang on to that sliver of a connection. When she’d left, he hadn’t been heartbroken, only marginally disappointed. And when she’d called a month later to tell him she was pregnant, he’d expected her to come back, but she’d already had someone else.
On the other hand, Bridget wasn’t like him, she enjoyed socializing, and maybe that was reason enough for her to want to meet Douglas and his side of the family.
Or, she was doing it for Turner, trying to get him and Douglas to spend more time together and act like they were a family.
“Are you disappointed that we are not meeting Douglas and Melanie before the rehearsal dinner?”
“A little. But maybe it’s better this way. It’s a hectic and stressful time for them. Meeting your girlfriend is probably the last thing they want to deal with now. Perhaps later, after the dust settles, so to speak.”
“I don’t mind Douglas and Melanie, but I don’t want anything to do with Nancy and Peter. It’s not that I have anything against them, but it’s not going to be comfortable for me, so why do it?”
“Did she leave you for him?”
Turner chuckled. Of course that was what Bridget would think. “No, it was someone else. There had been several boyfriends in between. She met Peter when Douglas was a baby.”
“I see.”
Interrupting, the stewardess leaned toward them with a professionally friendly smile. “May I offer you something to drink?”
“You wouldn’t by any chance have a Moscow Mule, would you?” Bridget asked.
Ever since Syssi had introduced her to the drink, she’d developed quite a taste for it. Except, even though they were flying first class, Turner doubted they offered a large variety of cocktails.
“Yes, we do. And for you, sir?”
“Shivas, no ice, please.”
“Great choice. I’ll be right back.” She went back to get their drinks.
“It’s quite comfortable here, for a commercial flight.” Bridget put emphasis on the commercial. “And yet it’s noisy enough to allow for a private conversation. Unless someone has superior hearing, that is.”
Turner glanced across the aisle. Was she implying that an interesting conversation was going on somewhere around them? Something she thought he needed to hear?
“Where?”
Bridget rolled her eyes. “Here, silly. Remember that item on your bucket list? This is your chance.”
As her meaning finally sank in, Turner felt his scalp heat up. “It was a joke. You’re not serious, are you?”
Even though the first class bathroom was larger than the minuscule one in coach, it was only partially obscured from the rest of the cabin by a curtain that was pulled back to one side.
Bridget waggled her brows and leaned to whisper in his ear. “I can try to cast a shroud around us so we can sneak into the bathroom together and no one would see.”
“You can do that?”
“I said I can try. It’s not much different than thralling, which I’m not very good at, but if I don’t try, I won’t know, right?”
His throat suddenly dry, Victor rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Right. Let’s wait for the drinks, though.”
“Are you scared?”
“No, not scared. But what if anyone hears us?”
“As I said, it’s very noisy in here.”
“What if anyone sees us coming out of the bathroom together?”
“We won’t. I’ll get out first, while you wait a couple of minutes before leaving. If I catch anyone watching, I’ll cast a tiny thrall to confuse them.”
The stewardess arrived with their drinks. “Enjoy,” she said cheerfully.
“Thank you.” Bridget took a sip. “Hmm, not bad for an airline drink.”
Turner threw back the shot of whiskey. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.” He got to his feet and headed for the bathroom.
Bridget snorted under her nose. “Be careful, my brave soldier.”
The good news was that the bathroom was decently sized, with a small counter he could imagine putting to good use. The bad news was that the stewardess’s station was right next to it. If Bridget couldn’t perform her mind tricks on the two women working the station, there was no way they could pull this off.
He told her as much when he came back.
“We’ll just wait until they start food service. Once the cart passes us, we’ll sneak in.”
He was all in for that, even if it meant missing dinner. “It’s a plan.”
Bridget arched a brow. “What, that’s it? I was expecting a mission plan with contingencies and backups.”
“For once I’m willing to live dangerously.”
16
Bridget
As Bridget snuck into the bathroom behind Turner, she barely managed to stifle the giggles threatening to spill out of her.
The poor guy was too tense to enjoy this little adventure. He’d been so serious as he got up right after the cart had passed them. Perhaps she needed to make him a new bucket list that didn’t include potentially embarrassing moments.
But then what was the fun in that?
It wasn’t like the stunt they were planning was really dangerous. Worst case scenario, they would have to endure a few disapproving looks. She could deal with that and so could Turner. Since when did he care what other people thought?
He pulled her in and locked the door. “Did anyone see you coming in?”
“I pretended to go into the other one. I opened the door and then closed it quietly and ducked in here.” She cupped his cheek. “Relax. Even if anyone noticed it’s not a big deal. The guys would envy you, and the gals would envy me. And if anyone gives us the hairy eyeball, I’ll say we are on our honeymoon.”
His hand closed on her nape. “You talk too much.” His mouth descended on hers with a crushing kiss.
It seemed her guy was more turned on by their little adventure than she’d given him credit for.
Yummy.
Still holding her for his kiss, Victor’s other hand snaked under her loose blouse, cupping her breast through the bra. A moment later he yanked the thing down, going for bare skin.
Bridget reached behind her and popped the clasp, but there was no way to get rid of the bra with her blouse still on. She yanked it up, then pushed Turner and severed the kiss to pull it over her head.
“That’s better.” Sh
e smiled at him when both items were off.
“You need to keep quiet.” He lightly pinched both nipples at once, not hard enough to hurt, just a slight sting that went straight to her quickly moistening center.
Bridget stifled a moan. It wasn’t going to be easy to keep quiet, she was a noisy lover, but she was going to give it her best shot. Perhaps she should put on a gag?
But from what?
Her silk blouse was a no go because it would stain.
The sight of her white bra still hanging by its strap from one shoulder inspired an idea.
“What are you doing?” Victor whispered as she took it off and tied it around her face.
She pulled it down a little. “A gag. You said I needed to keep quiet.”
Victor snapped the bra off of her and hung it on the hook attached to the door. “I’ll take care of it.”
If he was thinking what she thought he was thinking, he had another thing coming. Not that she had a problem with blowjobs, she loved pleasuring him that way, but kneeling on a public bathroom’s floor was a no-no. Not even on the first class cabin’s squeaky clean one.
As Victor grabbed her hips and turned her around to face the vanity, she realized that he had something else in mind. Her face in the mirror looked flushed, and her nipples were red and budded.
She looked like a woman ready to be taken.
As Victor shoved her pencil skirt all the way up, she was glad for the foresight of wearing one that was stretchy, especially when he lifted her leg, bending it so she could brace her knee on the counter. When he pulled her thong aside and pushed a finger into her, she bit her lower lip to stifle a moan.
How was he planning on keeping her quiet?
She found a moment later when he shoved two fingers into her mouth right before his thumb pressed over the most sensitive part of her body.
It was almost her undoing.
Watching herself in the mirror, sucking on the digits of Victor’s left hand while those of his right were fingering her in sync, Bridget got so turned on that her climax felt as if it was a breath away.
The sight was erotic, and the sounds Victor’s fingers were making as they pumped in and out of her wet sheath were absolutely lewd.
It was one of the sexiest things she’d ever done.
Bridget was going to go up in flames if he didn’t enter her right away.
Then he took those magic fingers away, but only for long enough to push his pants down and free himself so he could give her what she needed.
“Oh, yes,” she mumbled around his fingers as he entered her with one forceful thrust. “More,” she tried to say.
His thumb and two other fingers pinched her cheeks together, forcing her to keep a tight seal on the two he had inside his mouth. He was doing what he’d promised, making sure she kept quiet.
“Suck on my fingers,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled out and pushed back. “Suck on them as if it’s my dick.”
The dirty talk was so hot that Bridget’s eyes rolled back in her head. She’d never fantasized about being with two lovers at once, but Victor’s double penetration was the kind of kinky that could push her over the edge.
Not yet, though.
He was just gathering momentum, his hips pounding into her and pushing her against the counter with every powerful thrust. With a knee up and her other foot barely finding purchase on the floor, she was quite helpless despite all of her strength, and that was a turn-on too.
Somehow, Victor managed to push his hand between her and the counter, pressing a finger to the pulsating bundle of nerves that desperately needed his touch. “Come for me, gorgeous,” he whispered in her ear.
She didn’t need to be told.
As her orgasm exploded out of her, she bit down on Victor’s fingers to keep herself from screaming out loud. Caught at the apex of his own culmination, Victor buried his face in her hair, groaning as he filled her up with his essence.
17
Anandur
“Are you ready, Magnus?” Anandur asked his new roommate.
“Aye, just give me another minute.”
The guy was taking forever to get dressed. Anandur wondered what was going on in the walk-in closet. Was Magnus trying on outfits like some pansy?
“We are going to a club, not a wedding. Stop fussing.”
Finally emerging from his room, Magnus straightened his collar. “How do I look?”
“You look good. Come on, Camden is waiting.”
“Let him wait. This is my first time in an American nightclub. I need to know if I look okay for the local lasses.”
“You’re gonna have to peel them off you.”
Magnus smiled. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”
In Anandur’s opinion, Magnus was a bit overdressed, but he wasn’t going to say a word about it and wait another hour for the guy to decide on what he wanted to wear.
On their way to the elevators, Anandur knocked on Camden’s door.
“What took you so long?” Camden asked as he locked it behind him.
They were on one of the lower levels that were not dedicated to the clan, but that didn’t mean doors had to be locked. The security cameras mounted on the walls were in plain sight. Besides, the human residents had to go through security to get in. The chances of anyone who didn’t belong getting in and stealing anything were negligible.
Camden must’ve lived among humans before rejoining the force. “I guess you didn’t live in the castle?”
“No. I was tired of seeing the same damn faces day in and day out. At least here you have some variety.”
As they entered the elevator, Magnus smoothed a hand over his neatly trimmed goatee. “That is going to change when we move to the village. It will be the same as the castle. A hive. I’d rather stay here. I prefer the urban vibe.”
Camden was the first to get out as they exited on the lobby level. “I concur. Maybe the Guardians can stay here while the civilians move to the village.”
Anandur clapped his back. “You’ve been out of circulation for too long. How exactly is that going to work? We are supposed to be the shield.”
“That is true.” Camden followed Anandur and Magnus through the door marked as maintenance and into the hallway leading to the clan’s private elevator bay. “But there will be a lot of us. We can split. Maybe even take turns between living in the village and here.”
Magnus chuckled. “I have a better idea. We move to the village but use the keep’s apartments as shag pads. Do you think Kian would approve? We can call it a re-recruitment bonus.”
As they entered the clan’s parking garage, Camden clicked open the doors to his rented Chevy. “Hotels come with room service. I don’t want to clean a shag pad in addition to my house in the village, and we can’t employ human housekeepers.”
Anandur folded his body into the passenger seat. “Kian needs to rent out these apartments. Money is going to be tight in the near future, and he can’t afford to throw it around like he used to. Which will make his wife very happy. His lack of monetary restraint always bothered her.”
Both guys snickered, but neither said a word, which made Anandur wonder. Were they amused by Syssi’s frugality? Or was it Kian’s tendency to treat money as if it grew on trees?
Anandur always thought it was odd for someone who worked his butt off to make money for the clan to be so frivolous with it. Other than Kian’s short fuse, that was his only character flaw.
Not that it was a big deal. The guy more than compensated for his few shortcomings. Besides, no one was perfect, not even Annani’s son.
The club they’d decided on was called The Lagoon, and it rocked the nautical theme. The place was located near the marina, but it wasn’t fancy, and it wasn’t a membership only club. Kian had loosened the rules for Guardians, and the non-membership clubs were no longer off limits provided Guardians paired up.
Doomers, unless there was a whole pack of them lying in wait, had no chance of taking on a couple of Guar
dians or more.
Besides, it seemed as if the Brotherhood had abandoned its quest of finding immortal males in clubs. Other than the string of human murders, which might or might not have been committed by an immortal male, who might have been a Doomer or not, there had been no activity lately.
The most plausible explanation was that the Doomers had gone back to their old ways of sabotaging the clan’s work and undermining democracies around the world, instead of hunting individual clan members. Or maybe it was just a short reprieve while they regrouped and came up with a new hunting method.
Speaking of hunting, now that the restrictions had been lifted, Anandur planned on checking out every new club in town.
“Oh my gosh, you look like Cristian Bale!” A dark-haired long-legged girl put her hand on Magnus’s chest. “A younger version, that’s for sure.” She gave him a thorough once-over, then fingered a strand of his shoulder-length hair. “And your hair is nicer.”
Magnus grinned like the cat who was about to eat the canary. “Thank you. What’s your name?”
“Carly. You even have a British accent, wow. That’s so sexy.”
“I’m Magnus.” He wrapped his arm around her waist. “Let’s dance.”
“One down, two to go,” Camden said.
Anandur shook his head. “Does Magnus really look like that actor?”
Camden shrugged. “It’s the goatee and the long hair.”
Anandur smoothed his hand over his unruly beard. “Maybe I should trim mine too. What do you think?”
“That would be an improvement, no doubt about it. And try to comb that hair. It’s a mess.”
“Eh, why bother, the ladies love me anyway.” He slapped Camden’s back. “See you later, buddy. I like hunting solo.”
“Same here.”
