by Mila Young
She shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far in advance. Just need a regular paycheck.” Her tone was light, and he adored this side of her. They were two ordinary people talking about life, not possession, or comparing bruises from demon attacks.
“That’s how I started out, too, but it gets easier.” When Gunn first worked for Argos, he had been flat broke. But they paid well, so he’d worked hard and gotten ahead faster than he’d anticipated.
The earlier silence embraced them once again, and she stood up, pulling her hand from his, but he wanted her back.
He was on his feet and grasped her elbow, drawing her closer. She stumbled toward him, chest to chest, her head tilted back, reaching his chin in height. Her body trembling against him intensified his attraction. Everything about Cyra had driven him insane for weeks, and he’d been unable to get her out of his thoughts. But he’d kept his word to Chase and kept his distance this long for too many other reasons. Now he swallowed past the boulder wedged in his throat. Something inside him stirred. A longing, a craving to take what he’d dreamed of.
“Baby girl,” he said, voice lowered, “I was ready to jump into Hell to collect you. And that decision had zero to do with your brother, or with my job. I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt.”
She didn’t blink, but her face softened, as did her body against his. And for those few moments, his thoughts faded into the background, along with his worries. For too long he’d fantasized about holding Cyra, claiming her as his, and, right then, he toyed with doing so—taking what belonged to him.
“Is this you trying to make it up to me for almost killing me with your bike?” Her tone suggested sarcasm, yet her hand inched up his chest. Then she pulled away, leaving him hanging high and dry.
“No, no. Finish what you started.” He collected her into his arms once again, adrenaline coursing through his veins. She was a furnace against him, a fire lighting his insides, drawing him closer.
“Which part?” Her attempt at seriousness gave him the urge to laugh hard.
“You know very well which part.”
His brain yelled that he ought to back away, not play this game, but seeing this flirty side of Cyra awakened him, called to his raw instincts.
She fell silent and watched him for a long pause. “What are we doing?” she asked.
“What would you like to be doing?” The logical part of his brain blurted out exactly what they were doing—flirting on a dangerous slope—while his heart pleaded for more. He’d dreamed of having time with Cyra where her brother wasn’t watching her like a hawk, where she could be herself. Beneath the surface, he’d desired Cyra and, now that she showed authentic interest, how could he walk away?
“So many things,” she responded. As if she’d revealed her deepest secret, her cheeks blushed. Her reaction made it difficult for him to resist. It left him hard and ready. They’d come this far, but why the fuck did they have to be at a house infested by a demon?
He lifted her onto his toes and walked her backward until her back hit the wall. With their bodies molded together, he raised her chin with a finger. The slightest gasp came from her throat before he lowered his mouth to hers.
She groaned beneath him, and his hand combed through her long, blonde-white hair, twisting it around his fist. She kissed him back hungrily, fisting his top, forcing him closer, pressing those sexy tits of hers against him. His cock hardened with need, and he crushed her further into himself, becoming frenzied with every passing second.
Tasting sweet as a summer day, he pushed his tongue against the seam of her lips. She parted her mouth, unleashing the most delicious moan, and kissed him with unbridled desire.
His heart slammed against his chest. He had to taste more of her, devour every fucking inch. His hand fell to her waist and slid over to her ass, squeezing.
Breathing faster, he scooped one of her legs around his hip and nestled his hardness between her thighs, grinding against her.
Her groans drove him to insanity, her pelvis moving back and forth, meeting his every thrust. Even through the fabric of their pants, he felt her fire. Fuck, he needed her naked and now!
Her kiss left him breathless and insatiable.
Breaking away, she remained in his arms, her lower lip slipping between her teeth as she stared up at him. The innocence in her expression had attracted him to her weeks ago. Something about Cyra screamed the opposite, reminded him of himself when he’d been young. Lost in the world, trying to act tough, but, on the inside, vulnerability would eat at his every decision. And part of him wanted to wrap her up in cotton, protect her from the hurt and deceit he had faced. The city was like a demon, chipping away at one’s soul the longer they lived here.
“Baby girl, let me take you somewhere else to make you feel incredible, once I’ve cleaned up this house.” If he didn’t stop now, he’d rip off those pants and bend her over, desperate to sink into her little pussy.
She nodded and raised herself to meet his mouth again, kissing him with the same savagery that lingered inside him. Her arms coiled around his neck, and he fisted the fabric of her T-shirt.
“Take me,” she purred the words. Temptation had always been his weakness, and she was offering herself to him. Part of him toyed with taking off from the house for an hour or two. Just him and Cyra, to fuck her, get the lust out of his system before his balls turned blue and killed him.
God, he’d waited so long to hear her say those words, but he’d always pulled back, stayed far away for good reason. After losing Cherri-Anne to the demon, he’d told himself he didn’t deserve happiness of any kind, let alone finding someone else who drove his pulse into a frenzy. But for the first time, a sprinkle of hope melted that ice around his heart. And now, only hunger consumed him from the inside out. He had to take Cyra, own her.
He slid his fingertips under her top and across the scorching hot flesh of her stomach. He cupped a breast over the silky bra, filling his palm, and she moaned at his touch. He couldn’t help himself and wasn’t ready to pull away from her…not yet anyway.
Their breaths escalated, and he yanked up her top, breaking from their kiss, staring at the most delicious cleavage. “All mine.”
Cyra tugged at his T-shirt, drawing the fabric over his abs, and her warm hands were on his skin, sliding over his pecs and following the line of hair dipping down his stomach and into his pants. Clothes had to go… and so much for taking this elsewhere. She wasn’t backing down, and well, he had no intention of pushing away this kitten who wanted him.
She pulled at his belt, and, with his fingers hooked into the lip of her pants, he hauled her closer. His mouth was on her neck, licking her sweetness, the softness teasing him. “The things I’m going to do to you.”
“Hmm. I’ve never been with someone before.”
He kissed his way to the corner of her lips and whispered, “I’ll be your first?” Something about her roleplaying both excited and terrified him. Was she kinkier than he’d first anticipated?
Cyra nodded without a smirk and, instead, her cheeks blushed with shyness, and that simple admission drowned Gunn. “Wait!” He untangled himself and pulled back. “Are you serious? You’ve never slept with anyone before?”
What was wrong with him, stopping when she’d made it crystal clear she wanted him. But he had to be beyond certain, because defying a friend’s wishes was one thing, but then telling Chase he’d also taken Cyra’s virginity? Yep, that right there was a declaration of all-out war.
While such news pulled him to Cyra, made him even more desperate to protect her, to make her his so no one would ever touch her, he couldn’t rush this. Not like this. And her first time sure as hell wouldn’t be in a bathroom. Hell, he had to clear his head. There was a pressing danger nearby, yet his legs refused to move away from her.
She leaned back against the wall, her hands pressed to her stomach, her eyes too glossy. “Why are you acting all freaked out?” Her words came out barely a whisper.
He brough
t her into his arms, but she pushed her hands against his chest. “Cyra, a first time is special, and I don’t want you to regret this later.”
“Why? ’Cause this is a fling for you, and now you think it comes with emotions? Fuck that. All I want from you is a good time.” She folded her arms over her chest, and her words burned his insides.
“I didn’t say that. You caught me off-guard. And this isn’t a one-night stand for me.” He kept his voice steady, despite the worry already bubbling in his mind over her reaction.
She huffed and her features pinched slightly before she spoke. “Yeah. Look, maybe let’s forget what happened here.” When she turned, he snatched her wrist and forced her to face him. He had to fix this.
Yet she stared at him as if he were a stranger. “Baby, I never wanted to hurt you,” he said. “But I sure as hell am not going to make your first time in someone’s bathroom.”
The abrupt knocking at the door stole his chance to say more. “You two done in there? We have a problem out here.”
He exchanged glances with Cyra, but her expression remained flat. He had to make this right, show her his reaction had come from a good place, not as a rejection or from giving up on her. He needed to gain back her trust since, as of right now, he’d shattered it.
Cyra wrenched free from his hold, pulled her top down, then opened the door to face Henry.
His posture curled forward in a defeated stance.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she followed him out of the bathroom and out of sight.
And just like that, Gunn was left standing alone in the bathroom, still tasting Cyra on his lips, and suddenly feeling like shit. He now felt as if someone had just detonated a bomb beneath his breastbone.
Chapter 6
Cyra
Cyra’s mind knotted into a tangled web as she darted toward the living room, following Henry, needing as much distance between her and Gunn. What had she been thinking kissing him? Sure, she’d dreamed about that moment, and god, it was even better than she could have imagined. Her whole body still hummed from his touch, but his reaction to finding out she still had her V-card stung. He saw her as someone to have fun with, so fuck him. Who said she wanted anything more, anyway? Her stomach turned, and hell, she couldn’t even lie to herself.
A sense of coldness snapped around her in the hallway, and the fog in her head from being around Gunn faded. She should have been checking on Henry and Nora the whole time, not kissing Gunn.
Still, his fiery kiss and touch refused to leave her thoughts. “Mesmerising” didn’t come close to describing how he left her feeling, as if she floated through the heavens. But then he’d revealed his true colors. And, of course, it had been her fault. She never should have told him it was her first time. Shit! Who did that in the middle of the most earth-shattering moment? An idiot!
Regardless, Gunn would be the kind of man she’d want to surrender herself to. His protectiveness left her writhing on the sharp cliff of pleasure. Intense and evocative. It was a temporary fairy tale she’d remember for a lifetime. Even with her head clear, she still drooled over him.
She burst into the living room and found Henry alone on the sofa, his head cradled in his hands. “What happened?” She rushed up and sat next to him, their legs brushing. A swirl of guilt gripped her stomach for leaving him and Nora, knowing a monster resided in their home. What had she been thinking, getting carried away with Gunn in the bathroom?
“Nora’s gone.” Henry’s voice crackled as if he were about to burst into tears.
“What do you mean?” Had Nora fallen through the portal? With that single thought, she was on her feet, her muscles tight.
Henry lifted his head and shadows pooled under his red eyes. “I can’t find her anywhere.” His voice was soft and quivering. “What if m…maybe she left me? She’s been threatening to walk out for weeks, angry at everything I say and do.” He shook his head, staring at the lush white rug beneath his slippers.
“I’m sure she hasn’t left. Gunn asked her to pack so you two can leave for the night. She’s probably next door asking if you two can crash there.” That made more sense, as there’d be no reason for Nora to go up into the attic and be caught by the demon. Would there? She caught a glimpse of the base of the stairs, deciding she had to check to be sure.
“No, no.” Henry huffed and drew her attention back to him. “Most of our neighbors are away for the holidays. I just know something bad has happened.”
Cyra reached over and rubbed his back, untrained to deal with relationship issues, but the least she could do was support the man. “I’ll go look for her.”
She turned to leave, but Henry clasped her hand. “I’ve checked every room, even the attic.”
Gunn marched into the room, distracting her from her thoughts. He stood broad-shouldered in the archway, his lips tight, and he wore the expression she’d become accustomed to: distant and screaming ‘stay away’. Well, at least it was the familiar look he wore each time they bumped into each other at Chase’s place. Now they could return to their stance of not talking. So why did the knot in her gut tighten?
“Henry,” Gunn began. “I think it’s best if you and Nora leave the house for the night. It’s a lot more dangerous than I initially thought, but by tomorrow, your house will be clean of spirits.”
Cyra appreciated Gunn toning back his spiel and not mentioning demons. That shit terrified the average person.
“I’m not going anywhere. Not until I know where Nora has gone.”
Cyra’s heart hurt seeing the man in sorrow.
“She’s gone?” Gunn scratched his head, causing his short strands to stand upright.
“I keep telling Henry Nora hasn’t left him. She just went out.”
Henry was hunched over, holding his head again with both hands. “I won’t leave without my wife.” A cry curled in his throat, and the earlier guilt intensified as she couldn’t help but blame herself. She should have stayed with them, should have ushered them out of the house herself, should have stayed away from Gunn.
Cyra laid a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be all right. She’ll be back. You’ll see.”
Gunn walked over from the window and paced back and forth in front of them like a caged lion. Her nerves danced. Gunn gave her the hard stare, the one that expressed his impatience to get Henry out of the house, and, for once, she agreed with him.
“Listen, Henry.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “How about you go pack an overnight bag for you and your wife, and I’ll do another sweep of the house, then I’ll search the neighborhood? The house has a menacing spirit. I saw it in the attic. If you and your wife remain, you’re both at risk.”
Henry twisted in his seat to face her, constricting a cushion in his hands. “Of dying?”
“It’s a high possibility.” She smiled to ease his pain a little, and that prompted him to climb to his feet.
“Well, then, I’ll help you do another check of the house. First, we must find Nora. What if she’s in trouble?”
Before Cyra could respond, Henry trekked out of the room and down the hallway.
Gunn sighed and darted right after him.
Okay, this wasn’t going to be so easy and, in all honesty, she feared if she left it up to Gunn, he’d throw the old man out of his home. Sure, it was for his own safety, but in truth, only Gunn and Cyra understood the full extent of the terror harbored upstairs.
She hightailed it after them, determined to track down Nora.
Down the hall, past the bathroom, she followed the voices toward an enormous TV room the size of her entire apartment. God, if she owned such a house, she’d turn the area into her own personal cinema. Up ahead, the pair were in the doorway, Gunn’s arms flailing about. “Listen. Upstairs, you’ve got a gateway to Hell.”
Cyra gasped and rushed closer, plastering on a fake smile. She nudged Gunn in the ribs with her elbow and edged herself between the men, focused on Henry. “What he means is that it feels li
ke Hell exists upstairs, and—”
“No, don’t change my words, Cyra. He needs to know the truth.”
The breaking point of her patience neared. She grappled with Gunn’s arm and dragged him aside, whispering, “Are you trying to give him a stroke? Use tact… if you have any.” She arched an eyebrow on purpose, gritting her teeth. What was wrong with him? Seriously, if blunt directness worked on demons, Gunn would have the whole city of Detroit cleaned in a day.
Gunn scoffed, his chest rising and falling quickly.
But when a loud moan rolled through the corridor, they both jerked toward the sound.
Nora was slinking her back along the wall, her cardigan and flowery blouse hanging off a thin shoulder, revealing a white bra strap.
Cyra gasped at the woman’s sudden sexual show, the complete opposite of what she’d been like before. But no demonic aura surrounded her.
“Henry, dear.” Her voice was satin soft. “Come to me.”
Her husband stumbled forward as if controlled by puppet strings, but Gunn shot his arm out across his chest, holding him back. “Don’t go near her.”
Cyra moved to Henry’s side, clasping his arm to keep him in place as Gunn stormed toward his wife, collecting the lasso from his belt.
“Gunn, she’s got no aura.”
He didn’t respond, raising his weapon and looping it around the woman’s outstretched arm that reached for her husband.
“Nora,” said Henry, “I’m sorry I never took you to Australia and didn’t believe you about the spirit you saw.”
“Henry.” She looked past Gunn’s large form, her fingers reaching for her husband. “I need you.”
Six seconds. That was all it took to exorcise a fiend out of a human. Three, two, one. Nothing. No convulsing, fumes, or swearing.
“Parasite?” Cyra offered, convinced she was wrong the moment the word left her mouth. Demonic infections would show up in a person’s aura.
“Kiss me, Henry,” Nora cooed. “Kiss me under the mistletoe.”
