Haven (5 page)

“Yes.” He planted soft kisses on my neck.

“Couch,” I breathed.

He scooped me up as if I weighed nothing and strode across the room, setting me on my feet to reach under my skirt and pull off my panties. I stepped out of them without a word and fell back on the couch. Adrian settled in between my legs and pushed up my skirt, exposing me to his hungry gaze.

“Hello, girlfriend.” He lowered his head.

I threw back mine, eyes closed. The pleasure built and I soon trembled on the verge. He slid a finger inside me and spilled me over that sweet edge. I moaned and bucked, reveling in the release. He held me down with one hand on my stomach and made me spasm over and over until I begged him to stop.

“No more, no more,” I panted, pulling at his head.

His blue eyes glittered with amusement and a fair bit of male pride at a job well done. “Happy birthday, babe.”

“Thanks.” I gave him an appreciative smile and slipped into my panties. Adrian joined me on the couch and poured us some champagne.

He handed me a glass and motioned at his other birthday offerings. “Strawberry? There’s whipped cream in the bar fridge.”

I laughed, comfortable with his familiar ploys. “No, thanks. You’re such a cliché.”

He shot me a wicked grin. “Is that any way to treat your boyfriend after such fine cunnilingus?”

My amusement disappeared. “Come again?”

“You heard me.”

“I heard the B-word, Adrian.”

He shrugged and took a drink, but I recognized the tension in his shoulders.

“Friends, sex friends, friends with benefits. Those are good words. But not boyfriend.”

“Aw, Rina,” Adrian drained half his glass, suddenly serious. Too serious.

“What’s going on? This is the second time today you’ve brought up the monogamy thing. I thought you were joking at the W-T.”

“I was.”

“Then what is this? You do it with so many
people
and you love that.” Emphasis on
people
. Adrian was, after all, an equal opportunity lover. “Admit it. You enjoy the variety. And the freedom. So this sudden interest in monogamy doesn’t make sense.”

He emptied his glass and poured another one. “Honestly, Rina, sometimes I want to try. And why not with you? You’re gorgeous, smart, sexy. But it’s more than that. You’re not a toy, and you don’t worship me. You’re the polar opposite of an easy mark. And you give me such a little taste of you—”

I quirked an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” he continued. “You’re my friend, my best ever, so why the hell not?”

His tone gave me pause. It sounded like he wanted to convince himself more than me. Was something else going on here?

“Adrian, you know you’re one of my best friends, too, and my only
bed partner. But, I don’t feel...but you’re not...”
The one for me.
I didn’t want to say it out loud. Didn’t want to hurt this strange, vulnerable version of my usually
carefree, playboy friend.

He said it for me. “I’m not The Guy.”

Alexander popped into my head. The strong, masculine
face, the thick, touchable hair, his long, fit body. His stare glittered with intensity, even in memory. The power and sexual heat of the encounter left me shivering from just thinking about it.

“You cold?” Adrian reached for his suit jacket, folded neatly
next to him.

I shook my head. “No. Just an aftershock.”
Liar
. “Look, we’re not each other’s one and only
and we both know it.”
Because I’m hoping it’s someone I haven’t even met yet
. “Jesus, Adrian, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. How did we get here?”

He drained his glass again, abandoned it, and strode to the overlook, pretending to watch the crowd below through the one-way glass. I followed and touched his arm, but his eyes remained glued to the dance floor. He was thinking very hard and my gut said it wasn’t about me, that perhaps this sudden interest in monogamy concerned someone else
.
But who?

“What’s going on, Adrian?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He pulled out his phone.

I covered it. “This isn’t about me at all, is it? Have you met someone
special
?”

Adrian stalked back to the couch to retrieve his jacket, all jerky movement and leashed tension. “We can’t do this. Not now.”

Well, that would be a
yes
. “You have, haven’t you?” Color me stunned.

I had an idea. A bad one. “Hold up. It’s not Thomas is it? Or—” Dear God, please don’t let him say Alexander.

He stopped halfway to the door. “God, no,” he snorted with a dismissive wave.

“Then who—?”

His phone buzzed. He read the text then leveled serious eyes at me. “Gotta go put out a fire.”

“Wait.” I stepped up close and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for, you know, the prezzie.”

His lips curled upward and his tension dissipated. “My pleasure.” He winked and left the room, leaving me with yet another mystery to unravel.

~ * ~

I stayed in Heaven long enough to finish my champagne and locate my friends. I spotted them along the wall overlooking the dance floor. Mark stood in front of a couch and its two tiny cocktail tables, legs wide, arms crossed, scanning the crowd. Kai and Faith cuddled on the couch making out with abandon. Ren sat next to them, chatting up our friend and sometimes personal trainer, Gen.

I locked up the VIP lounge, descended the stairs, and sauntered over to my friends. Gen saw me first and jumped to her feet. She looked delicious in a shiny silver corset and matching hot pants. Both pieces showed off her sculpted physique and complimented the silver and blue streaks in her otherwise bright red hair. The bright colored bob swung and sparkled as she moved.

“Rina! Hey girl!” Her shout preceded a tight bear hug. She possessed freakish strength.

“Hey, Gen, good to see you too. Been a while,” I replied when she put me down.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy with The Grind, but I finally hired help so I can have a night life again.”

“Welcome back.”

“Thanks, and happy birthday. How about a free Grind session to celebrate your advanced age?” A playful smirk teased her glittering lips. “My fall boot camp session starts up next month.”

I laughed, back on secure and normal ground. “Oh, Gen, how you love to torture. And ha ha, very funny. Twenty-five isn’t old. How old are you, anyway?”

With a sad shake of her head, she pretended a serious expression. “Old enough, my friend, old enough.”

Her eyes flicked to something behind me, her expression shifting lightning fast before she whistled. “Niiiice. Some wicked hot guy is checking you out.”

“It’s probably
Adrian.”

I pivoted, but Ren stood, blocking my view. “It’s not Adrian. Stay here.” He joined Mark in front of us, their bodies deceptively
relaxed yet primed to strike should someone dare draw near.

“You’re both acting like goons. What’s up?” Gen yelled at their backs.

Her shout broke Faith and Kai’s embrace and Kai jumped up to join the other men. Faith pulled me onto the couch, her fingers cold on my arm. “He’s coming for you.”

Gen plopped next to me, confused by the sudden tension. “Who’s coming? The hot guy?”

Faith shook her head and my stomach lurched, reminding me of the champagne inside. She didn’t have to say another word. The worry on her face said it all.

Thomas.

Crap
. “Gen, would you mind takin’ off for a bit? We have some boring business to deal with. I’ll meet you on stage in a sec’, ’k?” Stage dancing was reserved for the motivational dancers on payroll and talented regulars like Gen.

She rose and gave me a calculating stare. “Sure, but don’t be long. I wanna get funky with you and your big boys.”

I nodded, trying for a reassuring smile. “Absolutely.”

Her sharp nod suggested she wasn’t convinced. “You know where to find me if you need some backup.”

“Thanks.”

“See ya.” She leapt over the half wall separating the lounge from the dance floor.

I dug my phone from my skirt pocket and called Adrian. “You in the Tower?” Set high above the action, our security control room, the Tower, contained abundant techie bells and whistles manned by geeks. Two of the latter happened to be warlocks.

“Yeah, babe, what’s up? Miss me?”

“Thomas is here and my boys are cranky. I need you to send down a warlock. We’re in our usual spot.”

I wasn’t stupid or helpless.

Thomas might claim to be family, but I didn’t know him—or remember knowing him—which made him a stranger. I’d told him to leave me alone, to stay away from my club, yet he invaded my space and likely intended on invading my head. I didn’t want us to confront him alone. We needed backup. Magical backup.

A lengthy pause ensued.

“Adrian, did you hear me?”

“I can’t do that, babe. He’s your uncle.”

“I don’t care,” I fumed, my frustration and fury escalating. “He wants to mess with my head. Have you forgotten what happened at the W-T? Your stint as a statue? Want him to do that to the crowd down here? Imagine the fallout. Say it with me.
Lawsuit
.”

“You’re overreacting, babe.”

I surged to my feet. Was Adrian really siding with that freak of nature claiming to be my relative? “Excuse me?”

“Listen, you know the private party on Sundays?”

“Yeah, Sanguine.”

“It’s his. He buys out the space, uses his own staff and supplies. Pure profit for us. We’re talking big money.”

“So?”

“So, this is business too. We don’t want to piss him off.”

“
Porco dio
,” I cursed in Italian. “You know what? Forget it. I’ll come up and grab my own warlock. Thanks for nothing.” I hung up before he responded.

Faith stood, dark eyes worried. “Don’t go, Rina. Don’t leave us.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of this.” I pushed past her and vaulted over the half wall.

~ * ~

I danced-slash-walked through the thick mass of gyrating bodies on the dance floor, headed toward the stage where I could access the Tower via spiral staircase or elevator. Power hit me halfway there, a harsh wave of magnetic heat. I staggered and grabbed my head, focusing on my breathing while the dancers and the invisible power storm buffeted me like a ship in a restless sea.

Was it Thomas? I needed to get to my magical backup.
Now.
I rushed forward, forcing my legs to work through the energy dragging them down.

The dance track hit its breakdown, a spacey, peaceful interlude, beat pausing, music floating anchorless, like the eye of a storm. Soon it would rebuild in a teasing climb to the climax, a return to the beat. In the calm, the power receded, the dancers slowed and swayed, creating space around me.

Alexander appeared a few steps away, every bit as sexy as I remembered him. Taller, though. Easily six and change. He’d ditched formal museum attire in exchange for a tight black T-shirt, dark jeans and a wide belt with silver grommets. I appreciated his style and the sculpted muscles, flat abs, long legs.

Perfection.

I’d bet drinks on the house for everyone in the club Gen spotted him in the lounge, not Thomas. Excitement shivered down my spine. He came for me.

A tilt of his head brought my attention to his hair, tousled as if he had a habit of running his hands through it. Curly ends spilled in willful disarray around his handsome face, all nice angles and high cheekbones, chiseled nose, strong jaw.

I wanted to slide my fingers through his brown locks, pull his head down, and kiss every inch of his face, from his forehead right down to those perfect, full lips.

His eyes met mine and my stomach flip-flopped while things much lower clenched and unclenched. If my face revealed even half the desire his expressed, we were in big trouble. For the first time in my life, I wanted—needed—to fuck a complete stranger.
Right now.

We stepped together, magnets drawn to each other on the dance floor. His power washed over me, a sensual caress from my head to my toes. I stifled a moan as liquid heat unfurled inside me.

The song neared its climax, hovering closer, closer still. The colorful light display around us flickered to white and froze with the music, waiting.

One more step.

Only inches separated us when I caught the color of his eyes for the first time. Deep, smoky blue, a twilight sky veined with soft gray clouds.
Big. Beautiful.

Mine
.

I reached for him, unable to resist the pull. Our palms touched, fingers braiding. The music burst into climax and my heart clenched in my chest. Mood lights strobed and the dancers went wild with the beat.

No one noticed our lack of movement. Or my lack of breathing.

The orgasmic power morphed into something lethal, a hot knife filleting me from throat to gut and I spasmed, trying to stay on my feet past the onslaught. From the shock on Alexander’s face, this was unintentional. He grabbed my free hand as if to help me, but it made the twisting agony worse.

Mark and Ren exploded on the scene and tackled Alexander, tearing us apart. The three men crashed into the crowd, taking many of the dancers to the floor. The power surge abated, but black dots danced through my vision, speckling the laser lights and leaving me dizzy. I fell backward, struggling for breath.

Strong, hard arms caught me, pressing me against a concrete wall of a chest. The wall jumped onto the stage—an impossible leap—carrying me with ease, as if I weighed no more than a fluff-filled doll.

I panicked and struggled against my captor to no avail. Darkness swallowed the world. Shouts, cheers, and a warm rush of bodies surrounded me.