Jekyll, an Urban Fantasy (27 page)

“Agreed,” he said after his smile had slipped away. “Here goes. On the count of three. One…Two...” He raised his chin and looked at her. Really looked at her. Into her. The intensity was almost palpable, drawing her in, pulling her towards him. He blinked. Then again. Slowly moving towards her, his eyes never straying from hers. Not once.

He was close, close enough to-have-and-to-hold through all of it. Without even touching, their bond tightened. But it wasn’t confining, suffocating like the soul-scraping cuffs or the bars of a cage. This was safety, trust, like being wrapped in a cocoon. One in which there was
no
loneliness because the cocoon was big enough for two.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered. “Damn it, I wanna kiss you. But then I’d—”

She knew what he meant—he might disconnect. If either of them looked away, even for a second, he might forget. And if they kissed, the thread binding them through their eye-contact would break. Physically and emotionally.

She didn’t think her desire sprung from Chastity’s enormous hormones. It wasn’t the raw, almost-unpleasant need Eden had felt in the garage. This was so much more than that. It was pure, it was emotional. Only two people were here in this room. And those two people loved each other. They understood and accepted each other in a way no one else could. Coming together—figuratively
now
and literally
soon
—would simply be the culmination of everything.

So she couldn’t look away either. The moment she did, she knew that Chastity would take over and turn this into just another one of her conquests. He didn’t deserve that. Eden needed to be the woman he wanted.

He reached out and touched her lightly, his fingertips barely brushing the skin on her shoulder. His touch deepened, pressing her breast with one hand, keeping his other hand moving hauntingly slow, then cupping her hip. His breath grew shallow, matching hers as she arched her back, wanting more. With one finger, he took the thin strap of her dress over her shoulder and then did the same with the other side.

Never looking away. As though blinded, they used their hands to explore each other, to
know
each other. In a way their eyes could never do. His palm brushed her chest, tugging slightly at the top of her dress. His eyes widened in frustration, and then he reached around her to unfasten it.

“Ouch!” he said, pulling his hand back and shaking it off. “Something stabbed me.” The reaction instantaneous, he looked at his hand. She saw the moment he realized his mistake, saw disappointment cloud his face. Then he caught her eye again and stayed there.

“Sorry. I’ll…” She reached back and felt the pointy end of the safety pin. After taking it out, she saw he was sucking on his finger. “Come on, Mitch. Am I
really
not worth a little poke?”

“If this works out like I hope, it won’t be a
little
poke.”

She saw his smile out of her peripheral vision, and she saw it in his eyes.

“Oh!” he said dramatically. “You meant the safety pin, didn’t you?” As her dress slid down her body and she stepped out of it, he sighed. “I can’t look. I’m not looking. It’s a
lot
harder than it sounds, by the way.” He warmed her skin with his touch. They were as close as they could be without losing focus. He was everywhere, the pressure in side of her building, wanting more. Wanting
everything
.

She made quick work of his pants, in part because he was so helpful, so anxious to get out of them. Hooking an arm around her back, he pulled her into his body. She moaned, feeling his erection pressing against her, needing him inside of her.

Their lips hovered just out of reach, occasionally brushing skin to skin, quivering. Mirroring his, her head tilted slightly, wanting a forbidden kiss. But knowing—as much as they wanted it—
that
connection would break the even deeper one they were living right now.

Eyes can deceive, create something that’s not real—their own perspective of the truth. Unless they’re held, locked with a lover’s own. Forced to look within the other person instead of being distracted by skin or blinded by desire.

He lifted her up, resting her on his hips, wrapping her legs around him as he walked over to the futon. “There’s a good chance we’re going to fall.”

“Then we fall.” She didn’t care. All that would happen is that she’d feel his weight on top of her sooner, feel his body press into hers. If they fell, they would fall together.

“Timber,” he said as he let go and let gravity do its job. They laughed the whole way down. He rested on one elbow and wiped the hair out of her face, his brow furrowed. “Listen, I— It’s—”

“Just spit it out, Mitch.”

He blew out a heavy breath. “It’s not the color of your eyes that scares me. It’s more what’s behind them.”

“What do you mean?”

“That you look at me with so much fucking hope. And…I think…” He pulled back and she grabbed his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“Don’t you dare run away now,” she said.

“I could be totally wrong here, but…”

“Love?”

His chest fell on an exhale. “Am I wrong?”

“No.”

“Yeah.” He bit his lip. “That scares the shit out of me.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Well…things rarely affect me the way they should.”

Smiling, she reached for the box on the nightstand. “We’ll see about that.”

§ § §

When he slid inside her, they both stopped breathing. Stopped moving. Stopped laughing. Just…stopped. The Earth went silent just for them. So this moment could be everything he saw, felt, heard. Her look of tenderness mixed with a happy dose of lust. Her breathy moan, her incredible warmth, brought everything that was cold and dark into the light.

And he could finally see. Finally see everything she was, everything they were together.

When he could no longer deny the need to move, he rocked into her. Each movement proved they were made for each other, fitting so perfectly. Like nothing could come between them—no air, no light, no darkness.

He watched her struggle each time her eyes started to close, recognizing how strong she was. There was no battle she wouldn’t win, not even with herself. And if he wanted
anything
, he wanted to fight for her.

If she believed he could, then he could. Sometimes it’s
that
simple. What your love wants, you give her—no matter what you have to do. So he didn’t close his eyes, didn’t shy away from who she was, because that would have been weak. And he couldn’t have her think him weak. He would be strong…for her.

§ § §

Not being able to lose themselves in a kiss did something unexpected. At least for her. It let her truly see him, never losing sight of the window into him his eyes created. She saw lust—kind of a given. She saw pleasure—also not a shocker. But what
did
surprise her was the unbridled vulnerability he was offering, a look into his heart. She wanted to live there, stay tucked inside of him, away from everything painful. She wanted to be there so that he would understand who he truly was. How amazing, how strong. Without her, he’d never find it, never believe it.

Her body was on fire, every touch, every movement only heightening the heat. She wouldn’t last much longer.
Not
with him looking at her like that. His eyes burned, so close but still able to focus…on her. He was truly focused on her. Not who she’d
been
, who she
was
. Every bit of him was there with her, bringing her an insane amount of pleasure with every thrust.

“I’m not going to walk away. Not now. Not ever.” When he stopped rocking into her, she realized she’d spoken aloud. Before he could move away, she wrapped her legs around him tighter, bringing him deeper.

His eyes closed halfway as he groaned. But then he shivered and raised himself up. “We had a deal.”

“Your deal sucked, so I made my own.”

He pried her legs off and pulled out of her, scowling. “No.” Then he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “That’s not what we agreed on.”

“I
told
you that I lied.” She climbed on top of him, forcing him to look at her, but not forcing him inside of her. “I won’t walk away from this. What we can have. You can’t make me.”

“I don’t want to
make
you. I want you to understand.”

“All I understand is that I was about five seconds away from a fantastic orgasm.”

His abs tightened underneath her as he laughed. “Five seconds, huh?”

She felt his hand touch her core. “Maybe ten.”

“We’re going to talk about this,” he said, making circles with his thumb, sliding his fingers into her when she raised herself up. “But not right now. Because that would be a waste of a good orgasm, wouldn’t it?”

She moaned as she lifted away from his touch and scooted down his body. “Yes.” Then she moaned even
louder
as he pressed inside her.

“God, I missed this,” he whispered. “I missed
you
.” When he pushed up onto his hands, she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He held her face gently but spoke firmly. “And I don’t want to hear any arguments. There will be no negotiating. It’s happening whether you want it to or not.”

She nodded. “But don’t get used to it. For today, and today only, you can call any shot you want to.”

His eyes dimmed slightly as he ran his finger over her lip. “We may only have today, so I’ll take it.”

“Don’t say that,” she said, her eyes immediately starting to water. “Please, don’t even
think
that.”

“Hey, don’t screw up my big Prince Charming moment,” he joked, wiping a tear from her cheek. “But you need to keep your eyes open. So I can still see you.”

“I don’t think that’s physically possible.”

“Well, we’re about to find out.”

It wasn’t. Everything disappeared when their lips met—the frustration, the doubt, the fear. All she could focus on was the incredible way he tasted, the passion she felt through each caress of his tongue. Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, bringing more pleasure than any two people had ever deserved.

And sure enough, about ten seconds later, she came.

“Unless you’re calling for help,” Landon yelled, pounding on the wall between their room and his, “can you stop the goddamned screaming?”

She was so beautiful—flushed, mussed, and panting. Though he couldn’t possibly look that great, she smiled at him, still breathless from their love-making.

Love-making. Making love.
Huh. That’s not quite right. Not what it really was. Because you can’t ‘make’ something that’s already there.

If things were different, they could have a life together. Build from this moment and share something Mitch had never even dreamt about. But things
weren’t
different. Outside of this room, nothing had changed. And as soon as the door opened, they had to deal with it. Something they both had to face. Because it wouldn’t get easier.

He’d chosen.
Her
life over
his
. She could be free without him holding her back, without The Clinic using him as leverage against her. Contrary to what he wanted, time didn’t favor anyone. If Hyde really was going to take control permanently, he had to make sure that before it happened, she was free and The Clinic wasn’t.

Damn it
. He was going to have to tell her. And she was
not
going to be happy. But the shit was about to hit an enormous motherfucking fan.
He’d
be the fan, and The Clinic’s shit was going to get
destroyed
.

He wiped a strand of hair off her cheek. “You know this isn’t going to end well, don’t you?” End.
This
, their lives together, had to come to a close. So a new door could open. But this time, nothing new
would
begin. Not for
him
. But seeing her, touching her, being inside of her seemed like the perfect send-off.

“Why does it have to end at all?”

“Everything ends.
This
, what we have, included. Because of who we are.”

“And who
are
we?” She sat up, brushing away his hand.

He didn’t want her to be angry. He just wanted her to understand.

“Who are we really, Mitch? I feel stronger than I’ve ever felt before. I finally feel whole. All we have to do is…” She shifted uncomfortably.

“Is
fix
me. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

She scooted away from him, drawing her legs and wrapping her arms around them.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said. “I’ve spent my
life
avoiding this kind of conversation. So if
I’m
not running, you can bet your sweet-ass
you’re
not getting out of it. It needs to happen. We need to lay our cards on the table.” Even though
his
was a losing hand. “When we’re together, we can pretend things aren’t what they are. But pretending isn’t being. All we have to do is fix me.” He took her hand and traced the lines of her palm. “But I can’t be fixed. I’m like a wind-up toy that a kid just stepped on. There’s no fixing me.”

“Not ‘fix’.” She looked away, struggling for words.

“Fine.
Drug
. All we have to do is keep me drugged.”

“You’d be just like you used to be, when Jolie was giving it to you. If we get a whole bunch of the serum—”

“If we get the serum, I might—and I mean
might
—get better. But what happens when that bunch runs out? You think they’ll just keep handing it over? You think I want you to do whatever the hell
they
want you to do just so they’ll keep giving me their fucking drugs?” He wouldn’t be her pimp—selling her so he could get another fix. “You’ve already given them too much.
I’ve
already given them too much. These people…they won’t stop screwing with our lives.”

“They’ve already agreed to give it to you.”

“Not without something in return. They’re not the good guys. Hell, I don’t even know if
we
are the good guys. ‘Cause the universe would have to be seriously fucked-up if
I
fell into that category.” He gripped her hand tightly. “I have a choice, Eden. A choice whether I go along with it. If I tell them to go screw themselves, I can live my own life. For as long as it lasts. So I’m choosing to live on
my
terms, not theirs.”