Hitched (9 page)

“What the fuck?” Kane backed up, hitting his desk. He gripped it as though it would hold him upright.

“Wings. See?” Bruce said casually. “I’m a faery.”

“She knows?”

“Of course she knows.
Willow
is part faery.”

Kane tried to form a question but failed miserably. Thoughts about Willow, her siblings, faery existence in general, incredulity, tumbled together in a cognitive hurricane that left little ability for speech.

“Her mother is full faery,” Bruce answered seeming to know the question he wanted answered most.

“Sage?”

Bruce turned around. He kept his shirt off, but the wings behind him vanished like smoke in the wind.

“Half faery, just like all the other Harper kids.”

Kane tried to pull himself together. Depending on the mantle of an agent usually got him through and he prayed it would this time too. He stopped leaning on the desk and stood up.

“What does that mean?”

“Not sure what you’re asking there. Are you asking if there are differences?”

“Sure,” Kane agreed. “Let’s go with that.”

“Some. As far as I know, they don’t have wings. That’s their mortal half. They each have a particular gift that the faery realm gave them when they were born. Although, to ask them, they think of it as a curse.” Bruce chuckled. “It kind of is, actually. But also a blessing.”

Kane’s brow furrowed. “What kind of gift?”

“They can each do something mortals can’t. Sage reads minds. Dill freezes time. Flora transports from place to place. Fauna disappears. Willow transmogrifies. Specifically, she turns into wooden things.”

Kane struggled to absorb what he was being told. Wooden things? “Like an apple blossom tree, or a coat rack, or a,” he closed his eyes and opened them again, “toilet paper dispenser.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s why she hates dogs.”

“Yeah,” Bruce agreed. “They get confused and start marking her as their territory.”

“And it’s why she always smells like hardwood.”

Bruce grinned. “You noticed that?”

“What about you? How are you different?”

“I’m not limited. Like all true faeries, we can manipulate things based on the energy found in nature. We need it, actually. I have wings. I also stabilize Willow. That’s another quirk of the gift. The Harpers can’t control their talent. It just happens.”

“That would complicate a lot,” Kane deadpanned.

Bruce gave a murmur of agreement.

“So making love to Willow means you always have to be there,” Kane concluded.

“It’s not a death sentence, Agent Wilcox.”

Kane lifted his eyes, meeting Bruce’s intense gaze. “I’m not a guy who goes for other guys.”

“I’m not another guy. I’m a faery. We’ve had a whole discussion about it.”

“But you’re male.”

Bruce walked to him. “I’m male,” he agreed. “Faeries don’t give a shit what sex someone is. If it feels good, we do it. No judgments. We’re also built for beauty, and if we really want someone, they don’t resist. It’s probably Willow’s influence that I haven’t tried to coerce you. I seem to have this soft spot for her. In this case it means, I want you to want me because of who I am, not because I can get you to want me supernaturally.”

“Thank you,” Kane answered, his gaze holding Bruce’s.

“I do want you, though.”

“I know. I heard you over the wire.”

“You aren’t freaking out,” Bruce noted.

“I’m flattered and really not too sure what I think about it.”

“That’s fair.”

“Will you let me show you something?” Bruce asked. “There are other things about being a faery that are different.”

Kane grudgingly nodded.

Bruce closed the space between them. Kane stiffened but tried to keep his ground despite the man-size faery invading his space. Tentatively, Bruce lifted his chin. Kane saw the kiss coming and fought with himself to let Bruce do it. It went against how he thought of himself, but Kane was curious what kissing a man would feel like. So he tamped down the urge to walk away.

Bruce’s smooth, unmarked beauty did set him apart from other men. His distinct, delicate yet pronounced bone structure should have looked feminine, yet it didn’t. His lips were full and perfectly shaped, the seam coming together in a cupid’s bow curve. This close, his black eyes still didn’t differentiate between pupil and iris. They were simply solid black, deep, mysterious and sensual.

Their lips touched. There was no overt pressure from Bruce, as though he recognized Kane’s need to analyze everything that was happening right now. Their lips touched a second time. Kane felt slightly proud of himself for holding still. He was charmed when Bruce’s cheeks flushed, and his eyelids dropped to half mast.

Kissing Bruce felt softer than he’d imagined. Not that he’d imagined it, because what straight guy would, he mentally scoffed. But okay, he’d imagined it and kissing Bruce far surpassed that. It was like kissing a woman, but different.

Bruce flicked his tongue out. It startled Kane to realize his lips were already parted, and the feather light tickle of tongue touched his. Curiosity overwhelmed him as a hint of honey drew him to taste Bruce in return.

Kane tilted his head just enough to make their mouths fit better. It caught Bruce off guard because he made a small sound at the back of his throat, and all Kane could think was, I did that. It emboldened him. There it was again, honey. Bruce tasted like honey, but not like any honey he’d ever had before. It was enthralling.

Before he realized what he was doing, Kane had Bruce in a full lip lock, his arms wrapped tightly around him, one hand buried in Bruce’s impossibly soft hair. Chest to chest, Kane couldn’t get close enough. It didn’t even bother him when their hard cocks bumped. All Kane wanted was this, and to get back in the bedroom with Bruce and Willow, because he just decided this would have been worth blowing his self perceptions out the window.

The scent of crushed grass and bruised flowers made a heady brew, entangling his mind. Bruce’s hands fisted on Kane’s hips.

Kane leaped back. “
What
was that?” he asked breathlessly. “Did you use that thing you were talking about?”

Bruce frowned. “Coercion? No, but I wanted to. For a guy who doesn’t like other guys, you kiss like you’re going to strip me down and make me whimper.”

“I,” the words ripped from Kane. “Wanted to.”

“I wouldn’t have said no,” Bruce pointed out.

“You taste like—”

“Honey? I get that a lot.”

“The flowers?”

“Ah, the allure. Yeah well, when you get a faery riled up for sex, he tends to smell like the great outdoors.”

“I thought that was Willow the last time.”

Bruce shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “All me.”

“You smell good,” Kane said stupidly.

“You do too. You don’t wear cologne like some men. I like it.”

They were silent for a minute. Mostly because Kane fought the urge to kiss Bruce again. If that was faery allure then it certainly worked on him. Damn.

“I could take care of that for you,” Bruce said motioning at Kane’s erection.

“Uh, I don’t think I’m that comfortable yet.”

“Yet. Then you might be eventually?” Bruce asked.

“What is your relationship with Willow?”

“We have sex.” Bruce shrugged and smiled, but his smile didn’t reach his dark eyes. “That’s the way she wants it.”

“Why?”

“Willow doesn’t like letting her guard down.”

“But she did two nights ago,” Kane argued.

“Yeah, she did,” Bruce agreed. “You’re what she needs.”

Kane saw sadness on his face. “You’re not?”

“She doesn’t like my kind,” he reminded Kane, by way of answer. “We’re friends with benefits, and it wasn’t until you entered the picture that sex became making love. She likes you, and she needs you. If that means I’m not in the picture anymore, then that’s what it means. I just want her to be happy.”

“You claim to be unattached to any particular sex partner, but I think you’re full of shit. I don’t think you’ve slept with anyone since you hooked up with Willow. You’re no fly by night fuck, are you? You love her.”

Bruce pulled his shirt back over his head and ran a hand through his hair. “You’ll never hear me admit it.”

Chapter Eight

Willow grabbed her wrist behind her back and peered into the glass case holding the pre-historical Earth Mother carving. She loved the ample curves of womanhood and the spiral knots of hair crowning her head.

“It was found in Eastern Europe and is identical to one found in Africa,” Austyn said. “That one’s my favorite,”

“Mine too. Can you imagine how awesome it would be to actually hold her?”

Austyn looked at her speculatively.

Willow blew out a breath and moved further down to another display case in the museum’s Women Through Pre-History exhibit. “It amazes me how important women were in early societies when modern woman have such a struggle just to be heard. They were the goddesses, the life bringers, the hearth makers.”

“Look at this one,” Austyn said, pointing at the glass. “Look how the Incan gold curls to resemble breasts and round thighs. It’s so sensual.”

“Yeah,” Willow agreed wistfully. She looked up and smiled at Austyn. “Your dad is so lucky. He gets to touch and index all this stuff before anyone else does. It’s got to give him a high to know he’s the first person in thousands of years to see and hold each piece.”

“It does. I mean, it gives me a high. I think it’s just work to him.”

“That’s impossible. He seems to love what he does.” Willow hadn’t missed Austyn’s comment though. “Does he ever take you to digs?”

“Mm hm.” Austyn moved off.

“Don’t you like going with him?” she pressed.

“I love it. I think I might want to have his job some day.” Austyn suddenly spun around. “Hey, you want to see something cool?”

“Depends what it is,” Willow said laughingly.

“C’mon. You’ll love it. Meet me at my place tonight. You won’t be disappointed.”

Willow looked at her consideringly. “Okay.”

“Okay!” Austyn enthused, linking their arms and dragging Willow deeper into the museum.

Willow looked for Bruce to make eye contact. Instead, she saw Kane. Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t talked to him in days. Three to be exact. And it had been hellish. She didn’t like the way he made her insides feel wobbly, or how without him, sex with Bruce didn’t seem as complete. Bruce seemed to feel the same way. They’d only tried once since that afternoon with Kane.

She missed Kane. Damn, him. She didn’t want to miss anyone. She quickly averted her gaze so Austyn wouldn’t pick up on her change in mood and realize why.

Willow turned the corner. Austyn pulled her out of sight from the room they’d just left. “Who was that?”

“Who was who?” Willow asked, her heart in her throat.

“That guy. The cute blond you were looking at.”

Willow bent around the archway, feigning a look to the previous room. “Just a guy, why?”

“I’ve seen him before.”

Willow shrugged. “We live in a small city. There are a lot of people I see that I don’t know.”

“No,” Austyn shook her head. “You know that guy. Where the fuck did I see him?”

Austyn wasn’t asking her, but she might as well have been. Willow tried to walk on, but Austyn’s grip on her arm suddenly tightened.

Willow followed her gaze. Kane entered the room. He looked down at a leaflet then moved to one of the display cases.

“Would you relax? He’s just checking out the museum,” Willow pointed out.

“C’mon, Willow. You know that guy. Spit it out.”

Willow sighed. She knew Austyn well enough. She wouldn’t let it go. “That’s Rick.”

“Rick?” Austyn drew out suggestively.

“He’s a guy Bruce and I hooked up with once. He follows me around a lot, but he’s harmless.”

“Harmless? He can’t be harmless if he follows you around. That’s called stalking.”

Willow thought quickly. She wasn’t good on her toes and the holes in her story to explain Kane’s presence were wide enough to drive a truck through. “Well, I haven’t exactly discouraged him.”

“You told him we were coming here?”

Willow ducked her head, pretending to hide a blush she didn’t have. “Yeah. I like him.”

Austyn gasped melodramatically. “Does Bruce know?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t want to risk it. I told Rick I was coming here so we could see each other.” She gave Austyn a pathetically love sick look. “You aren’t mad, are you?”

She laughed loudly. “Hell, no. Go say hi. I won’t tell Bruce a thing.”

Play along, Kane
.