by Sadie Moss
I never did anything like this in high school. I was sixteen when Mom got sick, and taking care of her and Maddy, and then just Maddy, became the primary focus of my life. So making out with Asher in his childhood bedroom feels like making up for lost time in a way.
When he tugs my shirt off over my head, I mirror the gesture, getting rid of his shirt and dipping my head to kiss the defined planes of muscle on his chest. He kicks off his pants, and I shimmy out of mine, and when we’re down to just our underwear, he rolls me over on the bed again, covering my body with his as he trails his lips along the line of my jaw.
I melt into his touch, rolling my head to one side to give him access to the long line of my neck. He takes it, working his way down the sensitive skin before brushing kisses over my collarbone and down my chest to the swell of my breast. He runs his tongue along my skin just above the line of my bra and then moves lower, closing his mouth over my nipple and sucking it through the silky fabric.
It feels so fucking good, but I want his lips on my skin, my bare skin. He’s using my own clothing to torture me, and that’s just so unfair.
“Asher,” I whine softly, my voice hardly more than a whisper. The thrill of pretending we’re teenagers who snuck off to have sex will be totally ruined if we actually get busted by his mom.
His only response to the plea in my voice is to switch his attention to my other nipple, drawing my breast into his mouth and sucking hard, making sparks of sensation shoot through me like little tendrils of lightning.
“Asher!” I’m louder this time, even though I don’t mean to be.
He tilts his head up, locking gazes with me as he flicks his tongue back and forth over my nipple, and I writhe beneath him, locking my legs around his waist, prepared to rub my clit against his stomach if I have to just to get some damn relief.
He releases my breast, leaving twin wet spots on each bra cup. Cool air hits the damp fabric, and my already peaked nipples tighten even more.
“Sorry, Elle. What was that?” He grins innocently at me.
“You dick.” I scowl at him in mock-anger. “You can’t make me scream at your parents’ house.”
Heat flashes in Asher’s eyes, along with something like pride and possessiveness. Oops. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I think I’ve just put a bunch of ideas in his head that he shouldn’t be having.
I’m not sure if he picks up a hint of what I’m thinking through his mind magic, or if it’s just that clearly spelled out on my face, but he grins down at me as if to say, watch me.
Then he shucks his boxers and quickly scoots down my body, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my panties as he goes. He draws them down my legs and tosses them away, then he buries his face between my thighs.
A half-cry bursts from my mouth before I press my lips together in a tight line, breathing hard as I try to silently ride out the torrent of sensations Asher’s tongue is unleashing on me. I want to open my mouth to yell at him, but I’m pretty sure if I do open my mouth, that isn’t what will come out.
So I bite my bottom lip, closing my eyes and whimpering softly as Asher laps at me with the flat of his tongue. I squirm beneath him, but he holds my thighs open and doesn’t stop, swirling the tip of his tongue in a pattern that makes me shake.
Asher has a wickedly talented tongue, and tonight, it seems like he’s trying to prove something. I toss my head back and forth, biting my lip so hard I’m sure it’ll leave an imprint of my teeth. Intense pleasure is melting all my muscles, and I don’t know how anything in the world can feel this good.
I’m gonna come.
I’m gonna come all over his face, and when I do, there’s a good chance I’ll scream so loud everyone on the first floor of the house will hear me.
Asher… I’m…
Keeping my mouth tightly shut, I try to warn him mentally, hoping he can read it in my mind. But even in my head, it’s hard to get out a complete sentence.
I’m gonna... oh, fuck!
The words I’m trying to send to him are replaced by a torrent of images and sensations—the sight of his head buried between my legs, sparks dancing through my body, the feel of his hands, gentle yet commanding, on my thighs. I project all of that toward him, letting him know what he’s doing to me, and the movement of his tongue stutters as he looks up toward my face.
Our gazes lock, the trembling in my body intensifies as the connection between us flares. I’m trying so hard to hold back, but I can’t anymore. I slip over the edge, and then I’m coming, pleasure spiking in my veins.
Asher surges upward, settling over me and thrusting into me in one fluid movement as his lips find mine. The feel of him inside me only intensifies my orgasm, and I do scream—but Ash’s mouth catches the sound, muffling it and drinking it up as I clutch at his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he fucks me hard and fast.
He rides out my orgasm, thrusting into me in a way that lets me know the last of his restraint has finally snapped. He teased us both for so long that he’s as desperate now as I was.
“Fuck, Elle. You’re so perfect. Perfect for me.”
The words are a breathless whisper against my lips, and then Asher stops, grinding his hips against mine with a soft, choked sound. He buries his face in my hair as I roll my hips against him, squeezing and milking his cock as it pulses inside me.
I feel his body soften above mine, melting into me as we sink a little into the soft mattress. We’re both breathing hard, our hearts crashing against each other through our ribs, and I feel deliciously limp and sated.
And I managed not to call his entire family up here with my noises, so, double win.
After a few moments, Asher pulls out of me, rolling over onto his side and drawing me into his body, my back to his front. He rests his head against mine as he wraps his arms around me, bringing us almost cheek to cheek. His breath stirs a few flyaway strands of hair as he speaks.
“I’m glad you’re the only girl I’ve ever brought up here.”
I turn my head a little, and he lifts his so he can meet my gaze.
“Me too.” I reach up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips, which still taste like me. A little aftershock of pleasure hums through my body, and I smile. “This is officially my favorite room in the house.”
Chapter 11
I call Tamlin the next morning to ask how she and Brodie are doing on their end.
“It’s going well. Better than I expected, so far. My relatives have agreed to help us, and we’ve already contacted a few people,” she tells me as I find a quiet corner of the living room. Justin is discussing some computer programming thing with Dmitri, who I did not at all expect to be into computers, while Maddy and Roman are talking to Mr. Prince. It’s very cozy and domestic, and it makes my heart warm.
“I’m glad.” Settling into a chair by the window, I gaze out at the beautifully manicured front lawn. I want to soak up as much peace and comfort as possible while I can. “How’s working with Brodie going?”
“It’s good.” Tamlin keeps her tone purposefully lighthearted and neutral. “We’ve been doing some good work, coordinating our information. He’s got a really great memory, almost photographic, and a good head for numbers.”
Yeah, she can play it cool all she wants, but I can still hear the fond tone that creeps into her voice.
“Nice,” I tell her, swallowing my grin. “Any Unpredictables in our area that we could get into contact with?”
“Yes, actually, hold on…” There are some rustling noises in the background and some murmuring, I assume between Tamlin and Brodie. Tamlin sounds softer in her tone with him than I’ve heard her be with anyone else.
Ha.
“Okay, here we go,” she says after a minute. “Got a piece of paper?”
“Uh…” I make a waving motion with my hand, then a writing motion. Cam, thank God, sees me and realizes what I mean, and passes me a pen and paper. “Okay, go.”
I write down the names, thank Tamlin, tell her to t
hank Brodie, and then hang up. After one last wistful glance out the window, I turn to face the room. “Okay, guys, I’ve got a starting point.”
We all go out together—the four men, myself, Justin, and Maddy. We don’t want to be too conspicuous, but there’s safety in numbers at this point, and I hope we can pass as nothing more threatening than a group of young twenty-somethings out for a fun afternoon.
It feels weird to be out on the streets without my cuff. I didn’t have it last time I was out in Portland either, but we were chasing down Agustin then. It didn’t really feel… real, exactly. We were on temporary leave, on a mission, not just… out and about.
This feels more like out and about.
We’re walking down the streets of San Francisco, and we could be anyone. We pass by other people, and no one looks at me suspiciously or with judgement.
It’s weird, but amazing.
We try to keep a low profile as we go along. We’re not being loud, but we’re chatting, smiling. Maddy and I take a few selfies together in some pretty spots, just trying to look like normal people out on an unremarkable day.
The last thing we want to do is alert Agustin or any of his people that we’re here. I’m still his number one target.
Our first stop is to see an older woman by the name of Eleanor. Her house is in a quiet, out of the way neighborhood, and when we reach it, we gather into a quick huddle at the end of her walk. It’s decided that Maddy and I will knock on the door first while the men hang back a little. We don’t want to scare or overwhelm her.
Eleanor is a small woman, with a pile of white hair atop her head and light blue, watery eyes. “Yes?” She eyes us up and down as she opens the door halfway. “You look a little old to be Girl Scouts.”
“Hi.” I try to smile. Next to me, Maddy beams. “I’m Elliot, and this is my sister, Maddy. We’re—”
Eleanor’s eyes light up. “Elliot Sinclair?”
“Um… yes?”
The older woman gestures for us to follow her inside. “Come in, come in. I saw your livestream, and your video about the holding center—awful, awful, business.”
I turn back and gesture for the men to approach. “Is it okay if my friends join us? They’re my classmates and one of my professors from Griffin. And one of Maddy’s classmates too.”
Eleanor looks past my shoulder, taking them in. “Ah, yes. I recognize some of you from the video—the one of Agustin. Of course. Come in.”
We’re ushered into a lovely, rather old-fashioned looking house. There are pictures on the walls of Eleanor with several other people throughout the years, including a wedding photo.
She catches me looking as she leads us through and smiles. “Ah. Good memories. I was lucky to have such a strong network of people who loved me. Being an Unpredictable was even harder in my day.” Then she chuckles. “Ha! My day! Makes me feel like I’m a century old. But I couldn’t get a job anywhere. I’m lucky I had a husband with a good job who was happy to support me and let me stay at home. Not that I wanted to stay home—I ended up getting a job at a non-magical library, got a degree in Library Science at a non-magical college and all that. Half of my friends were non-magical.”
“Didn’t that suck?” Maddy asks. “To hide so much about yourself from them?”
“It wasn’t fun,” Eleanor acknowledges, leading us into a cushy living room and gesturing for us to sit. “But it was easier to do that than to deal with the magic users around me who judged me for something beyond my control. At least my non-magical friends looked at me like I had value.”
A hint of bitterness creeps in at the edges of her voice, and I can’t blame her for it one bit. “Sounds awful.”
Eleanor nods. “Tea, anyone? Water? Coffee?”
I don’t really want anything to drink. I’d rather just get down to discussing what we came here for, but our hostess seems a bit old-fashioned, and I feel like it would be rude to refuse her hospitality. The others must’ve had the same thought, because we all ask for waters—the quickest and easiest of the available options.
After all that’s taken care of, it’s time to get down to brass tacks. “You’re probably wondering why we’re here,” I tell her.
Eleanor nods. “I assume it has something to do with Agustin. Such an awful man. Making the rest of us look bad. I can’t say I’m surprised his plan worked. People have been prejudiced against us for ages. It takes so little to fan that spark into a flame.”
“We’re trying to stop him,” I confirm. “Unpredictables are the only ones who are strong enough to go up against him. We’re trying—my classmates and I from Griffin, and the staff—we’re trying to find as many Unpredictables as we can to work together to attack the High Circuit office where he’s currently residing.”
“And you want me to join you as one of them,” Eleanor says, finishing my thought. She sighs, putting down her coffee mug. “You seem to be a dear girl. And a fighter. We’ve all appreciated how you’ve stood up for us, for every Unpredictable out there. It can’t have been easy.”
I shrug, keeping my gaze fixed on her as she continues. It doesn’t really seem like a good time to expound on how not easy going up against Agustin is.
“I am thankful for what you’ve done—and for what you’re trying to do.” She shakes her head, looking almost sad. “But why on earth should I get involved to help people who derided me all of my life? Who insulted my husband for marrying someone ‘like me’? Why should I help the people who denied me a job, who shut me out of restaurants and bars and clubs, who wouldn’t have me in their sewing circle or invite me to their cocktail parties? My poor John endured decades of humiliation for being married to me, and I’m lucky he stuck by me. I had friends in the magical world who stuck by me as well, but they paid the price for it.”
She leans forward a little, squinting slightly.
“And look at how little it took for Agustin to convince people to go against us, to try to take our magic from us and treat us like—like animals. The provost of a respected magical training program. One of the richest and most influential families in our society. And so many more. Why should I bother to help people who were so eager to take me down and to believe the worst of me and everyone like me? To oppress us?”
“I get that,” I tell her fervently. “I promise you, I totally get that. My mom wasn’t Unpredictable, but when she died, neither my magic nor Maddy’s had sparked yet. Nobody was there for us. The magical community just abandoned us. And I was bitter. Really bitter. So when I found out I had Unpredictable magic, I almost decided to just let them take it from me and not be a part of the community, because why should I be a part of something that had rejected me?”
I glance at Maddy and find her looking back at me, her blue eyes shining. She was the one who convinced me to keep my strange new powers back then, to give Griffin Academy a shot. And despite the fact that I almost died at that school multiple times, I’m so glad I listened to her.
“But this is bigger than that,” I tell Eleanor, turning back to her. “It’s bigger than either of us. I’m not denying that what they did was wrong. I feel like it’s a pretty ‘too little, too late’ situation as well. But there will be innocent people who get hurt in this too. People who have always believed in us and always wanted to help.”
Her gaze falls to the floor, and I scoot forward a little, perching at the edge of my seat as I continue.
“And you know he won’t stop—not until we’re all gone. Agustin wants to be the only Unpredictable. He doesn’t want anyone to be able to challenge him or his rule. So he’s going to keep hunting us. He’s been hunting us for years. You said that you had a good network of people. You had a husband and friends, and I’m guessing your family stuck by you?”
Eleanor nods. “Yes. Always.”
“Not everyone had that. Nearly three quarters of the Unpredictables who passed their exams have vanished or died over the last several years. That’s because of Agustin. He was picking us off. I’m guessing your d
eath or disappearance would’ve been too noticeable, since you actually had a support network. But now that he’s made his move, he’s going to come after you too, and everyone with our kind of magic. It’s only a matter of time. We can’t let old grudges—as justified as they are, and trust me, they’re fucking justified—get in the way of fighting back and doing what’s right. For the people who always supported us, for the innocent people who have no clue what’s going on, and for all of us Unpredictables, because he will find us if we just cower in hiding.”
Eleanor looks at me for a long moment, taking sips of her coffee. She’s contemplating, and I don’t want to rush her, but I’m also getting more and more nervous the longer she sits in silence.
“All right,” she says at last, setting her mug down. It shakes just slightly in her hand as she rests it on the coffee table, but that’s the only outward marker of her fear, and her voice is strong when she speaks. “You’ve made a compelling case. I see what you mean. And I don’t intend to simply sit around and wait for that odious man to bang my door down. What do you need me to do?”
I grin, a heady feeling of victory flooding my chest.
It’s just a little thing. Just one Unpredictable. But it gives me hope. One and one and one and one more, and one more after that—that’s how you build an army. A single person at a time.
We’re not out of the game yet, Agustin.
Chapter 12
It’s been a fairly successful day, and I remind myself of that repeatedly as we all head back to Asher’s house for dinner.
We visited a few other Unpredictables after leaving Eleanor’s place and convinced them to help us. I know it’s something, and I’m glad for it. I still wish we were actually attacking Agustin though. And I can’t help but worry about everyone else and how they’re doing. Hardwick, Tamlin and Brodie, Kendal, Tom, Tandy and Erin—are they being attacked? Are they lying low? Have they been able to find any other Unpredictables? How have those conversations gone?
