Viper Moon (16 page)

Flynn laughed. “I concede. Can I look at them again?” “What? I should reward a loser?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Okay.” I released him, but I didn’t move.

He laid his hands on my thighs and slid them up across my waist and under my shirt. He cupped my breasts and rubbed his thumbs against the nipples. Great Mother, they sent shock waves of pleasure down my body. My hands closed into fists.

“They’re hard,” he said.

“So is something else.” I gently moved my hips against him.

“It hurts, too. Maybe you could rub some of that cream on it.”

“And make it go numb?”

“Ah, on second thought, not a good idea.”

Sweat glistened on that sleek, magnificent body. I relaxed my hands and laid them flat on his chest. His heart hammered under them. His scent, his own personal odor, rolled off him as his body released moisture to compensate for temperature and exertion. I leaned forward and licked his skin. His body tasted salty and quite wonderful.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said. Flynn’s fingers slipped through my sweat-soaked hair. “I shouldn’t even like you.”

I rubbed my cheek against his and spoke softly in his ear. “Nefertiti, Nirah, and Horus are nice. Busting Bastinados is fun. But you haven’t even touched the Barrows and the Darkness, Flynn. You’ll get your turn to despise me.”

“That’s my decision,” he said. He spoke with determination. “How about another round?”

“How about a shower and a bed?”

I pushed myself to my feet and walked toward the stairs. He followed me. No matter what he said, the time would come when he would look at me and ask if I was worth the strangeness he’d seen in and around me.

But not tonight
.

He had my shirt off the moment the door to my apartment closed behind us. I shivered as the cooler air played across my skin, but then my heart rate rose to compensate. He grasped my face in his hands and gave me the kiss of a lifetime. So warm at first, then savage. His arms wrapped around me and he maneuvered me backward toward the bedroom, toward the bed. There was an animal in him, primitive and dangerous.

Into the bedroom, to the bed, he pushed me down so I lay on my back. He stood over me. Not a hint of this deeper wildness had crept into the controlled personality he’d shown me before.

“The pants. Take them off.” His voice was deep and rough.

I slipped my thumbs in the waistband and pushed the fabric down over my hips. He grabbed them and pulled them off my legs.

I’d made love, passionate love, before, but I always controlled things—when, where, and how.

But not tonight
.

I am a fighter, rough and hard, a warrior, a stealthy predator, all things that could be male or female. Never had I felt so much desire, been so willing to let go of cherished personas of power that had ruled my life.

The only light came from a small lamp across the room, enough light to glitter in his eyes as he gazed down at me. Enough light to cast a glow over his body. I wanted what I’d never wanted before. To belong to a man. Not a casual lover, but a man who could match me in violence—should he choose to do so. I wanted him to ravish me.

He shuddered.

“Your turn,” I said.

He popped the button on his pants and unzipped them, then stripped.

The Earth Mother had given this son everything, from that beautiful face and powerful muscles to his rigid cock. How could I bear it when he eventually left me? He wouldn’t just run away, not this one. Not his nature. He’d politely thank me and close the door.

But not tonight.

He placed one knee on the bed and bent over me. His finger traced my mouth, down my throat, and circled my nipple. He pinched and gently tugged.

I whimpered. All my nerve endings stood at attention, pleading for more.

His fingers trailed on down and he pushed his hand between my legs.

“You’re wet,” he said.

I tried to say yes, but I choked on the word. I twisted under his hands, under his caresses. A powerful yearning filled me, the desire to connect with this man both physically and emotionally. Every part of his body appealed to me, tortured me with a longing I’d never felt before—the curve of muscles, strong legs, gentle hands, and that wonderful mouth.

“Please.” I reached for him and pulled him down on the bed beside me. His hand never left the damp hollow between my legs. His fingers probed deeper and spread ripples of delight racing up my body. I touched him, everywhere except where I wanted to. So hard and swollen, I was afraid I’d make him come too soon. But thanks to his magic hand, my own body was close to where I needed to be.

“Now,” I said. “Oh, please now.”

“Cass.” His breath came out ragged. “I wanted—I forgot. I don’t have any protection with me. It’s been so long.”

“I won’t get pregnant, Flynn.” There was no point in telling him I hadn’t had a period since I was eighteen and accepted the Earth Mother’s call to service. Let him believe I used birth control.

His hands roamed over my body and the heat of his skin against mine burned like the sun had on the asphalt outside. I loved the taste of him and his scent that drove me beyond anything I believed possible. I had to move, or I’d be the one coming too soon. I had to slow down. I pushed his hand away and rose up so I could touch him. I traced his mouth with my fingers, his nipples, that flat stomach, but I stopped short of where I wanted to go. I teased it with a brief kiss. He groaned and I felt like I’d won some great prize.

He suddenly grabbed me, rolled me over, and was on top again.

His lips closed over mine for a long, sweet time. My nerves danced everywhere he touched me with his mouth or hands. My fingers played along his skin. He raised himself and I spread my legs to welcome him.

I cried out when he slid inside me, not in pain, but in the sheer joy of having him. I writhed, but he held me tight and steady against him.

When I breathed, I drew in his scent, until the world consisted of the power of his presence stroking my ecstatic nerves. In his embrace, I could feel my heart pounding, something the greatest of my fears had never produced.

“You are so beautiful.” He slowed his movement, prolonging my agony—and ecstasy.

When I could no longer hold out, I crashed, rolling down into pure delight. Delicious pleasure burned my nerves. He moaned and shuddered. The world disappeared around us, leaving only two people lost in each other’s arms.

“Wow,” I said when I could catch my breath.

He rolled off me and dragged me on top of him. He lay warm and solid under me.

“I suppose we should take a shower,” he said.

“Suppose we should.” I fought the urge to giggle.

“Ladies first.”

“That generally leaves me out.”

We rested and made love again and he continued to surprise me. Gentle, at times, then rough, we explored each other’s bodies, laughing softly as we did. We’d get close to the edge, then pull back and explore more sensations. Like saying
One, two, three, go!
ten times before you finally get the nerve to leap off a high diving board—and drowning when you hit the water.

When I finally surfaced and my muscles stopped quivering, I found myself lying on damp sheets, as if we’d brought the steaming outside air in with us and the air-conditioning had failed. He lay beside me, breathing softly in my ear.

We didn’t shower. We simply clung together and caressed each other until sleep dragged us down. Before sleep came, I realized what was missing from my life, or at least that part of my life. Joy. Pure joy at being with someone. It would end badly, but the joy I would keep and cherish forever.

I woke during the night. The lamp was off and the room dark. I reached for Flynn and found his place empty. He stood across the room, his shape outlined against the window. I had a good idea what he was thinking.

“Flynn, we
will
find her,” I said.

He came back to the bed. He sat beside me and laced his fingers in mine. “She was six the year I graduated from the academy. When everyone stood to applaud, Selene jumped on her chair so she could see over the crowd and wave at me. Her face was shining so bright.”

He lay beside me again and I stretched out against him. My mind, operating on sensory overload, kept banging thoughts together like Ping-Pong balls in a bucket. One thought screamed,
Fool, don’t get in too deep!
Another cried that this man was what I’d wanted and needed all my life. Another taunted me with my rough Huntress persona and farm girl upbringing. What would he want with me, this cool, educated man who had given his life to protecting not only his family, but strangers on the streets of Duivel. I lay beside him while he slept, touching him occasionally, listening to him breathe, until the sky grew lighter and another day began.

 

“Where do we go today?” Flynn asked.

“Couple of people I need to talk to. I call them the spectators. Don’t have a life or a job, so they watch everything.” We’d snuggled in bed until eight. Great Mother, how nice to have him with me. I knew he’d probably leave eventually, and that made me sad, but right now things were fine.

When I headed down River Street, I passed the 1760 building. I didn’t think of it much these days, but Flynn in my bed last night stirred memories of lost love.

“You smiled,” Flynn said. “Why?”

“Just thought of something.”

“An old boyfriend?”

Oh, so he’d been thinking, too. “In a way.”

“Tell me.”

I chewed on my lip a moment. Traffic had us stopped like cookies lined up baking in an oven. I supposed it wouldn’t hurt. “When I first came to the Barrows, I was eighteen and I needed to know my way around. Abby could show me only so much. I came down here looking for a job. I figured that would give me a better picture. Not much money, so I had to ride the bus to her house and back.”

My mind traveled back to my early days in Duivel. I couldn’t say I missed them. At eighteen, the world of the Barrows seemed much larger to me and I was still ignorant of so many evil things . . .

Winter had settled in, and the bus was late. I’d tugged my jacket closer around me, but the wind from the Bog roared down River Street. It cut through cloth seams like frozen scissors. The plaid flannel shirt that had served me well on my family’s Southern farm seemed like sheer cotton here. I hunched my shoulders and endured. I’d walked twenty blocks, asking for work at any place that looked like they had something I could do. The guy at the pet store wanted to hire me because of my experience with animals, but he didn’t have the money.

Then I noticed the sign in a second-floor window across the street: FILE CLERK NEEDED. I could do that. I’d taken business classes as electives in high school. I made a mad dash between the cars and trucks and crossed to the building.

The aging wooden stairs rising to the second floor creaked under my feet. One groaned like it was going to give way. I grabbed the rail and the beast rewarded me with a splinter. It wasn’t much warmer than outside, either. The air carried an aged musty smell that told me my search in this place was as hopeless as the structure itself.

Two doors at the top, one with a padlock on the outside and the other a sign.

E. DURBIN, PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR.

I opened that door and walked in.

The windowless outer office had a desk, a chair, and a sagging couch piled with boxes. A fine coat of dust skimmed the desk, and the tracks of a tiny four-footed creature made a wavy path across the surface. Cinnamoncolored water stains from a mighty roof leak bloomed like flowers across the ceiling. The smell . . . I drew shallow breaths.

The floor still complained at my steps, in spite of a rug that looked like a million souls had wiped their feet on it on their way to heaven or hell.

“Go away,” said a rough voice from another room.

I walked to an open door. A man sat behind the desk. He looked lean and hard, like someone who spent hours at labor in the sun. He might have been forty, but it was hard to tell. Dark hair with a skim of gray, gray eyes, handsome in youth, still handsome now, but . . . worn. Worn as the shabby room around him. A half-full glass and halfempty bottle of bourbon graced the desk at his right hand.

“I said . . .” His voice trailed off when he saw me. The frown, the obvious irritation on his face, faded. He raised an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth twitched like he felt like smiling but didn’t want to. “You come straight from the farm, Bo Peep?”

“Don’t worry. I scraped the shit off my shoes.” Damn, I had to get some new clothes.

“What do you want?” His deep voice sounded only slightly interested.

“A job. I saw the sign. I can type and file.” I glanced at the window, but it was covered with stacked boxes. It had probably been covered for months. Maybe years.

“Forget about that.” He eyed me, as if speculating. “You can do better than this place.”

I shrugged. “Maybe later. I’m fresh off the farm, remember? No one wants to take a chance on me.” It was worse than that. Most of them laughed at me.

He drew a breath, then hesitated. His mouth twitched in a half smile. “Okay. Part-time, twenty hours a week, minimum wage.”

“Sounds good.”

“It’s shit. Let me guess. You want to learn the trade. Be a PI like in the movies.”

“You mean so I can be successful like you?” I gave him a rather superior grin. I liked this man.

He laughed, but it sounded more like a bark. “You got a point, Bo. Listen, I don’t have time for the usual paperwork. Okay if I pay you cash?”

“For now. Mr. Durbin, I—”

“Eddie.”

“Eddie. I’m Cass.”

“Cass?”

“Cassandra.”

“Unusual name.” He wrapped his hand around the glass of amber liquid on the desk.