Wicked Release (5 page)

He wanted her. He hated that he wanted her. He hated the societal rules that prevented him from merely taking what he wanted. She did not realize until it was too late just how much he despised his own desires.

“Sarah? Is everything okay? Where were you just now?”

She’d been staring sightlessly out the window, lost in the past. She saw the road sign and her body tensed. “I was where I am now. Salem? Do you think the book is here?”

Lorie, who was in the driver’s seat, bit his full lower lip the way she wanted to every time she saw it. “Possibly. Harrison might be the greatest witch of our generation, but I’ve perfected locator spells. Especially when it comes to books. I thought we might stay at our family’s place while we check it out. It’s empty, so we won’t be disturbed.”

Empty? She shifted in her seat, suddenly very much aware of the two men closed in with her. Con was in the backseat, lounging. She glanced at him casually over her shoulder, not surprised to see his green eyes fixed on her. Was he still upset?

He winked, momentarily dispelling her concern. “I think we’ve had enough human tourist role-play for one day, babe. Though I have to admit, seeing it all through your eyes has been…enlightening. Still, I’m ready to spend the evening at the Salem house. You’ll love it. We’ll make sure of that.”

“That sounds acceptable.” Wicked. The way he was looking at her, the tone in his voice—it sounded wicked. “Are there enough rooms for us?”

“For what he has in mind?” Lorie chuckled. “Probably not.”

Sarah chewed the inside of her cheek to restrain herself from smiling while they watched. But why? Denying herself was one feminine habit she wanted to abandon. There was nothing coy or shy about what she was feeling. Knowing that she could be taken from this—from them—at any moment only made her needs intensify. She wanted to experience as much as she could before she was lost again. She wanted a memory so powerful that no amount of suffering could make it fade. And she wanted it with them. “
How
close are we?”

Con groaned and sat up behind her. “You’re killing me. But impatience is the magic word.” He chanted the spell beneath his breath and Lorie joined him. Sarah watched through the front window of the SUV as the road was replaced by a drive up to a large, rambling white house.

“How did you do that?”

Con laughed. “My theory is that spell was invented during the first traffic jam, but don’t quote me. I’m no history buff.”

Her gaze now fixed on the house, Sarah could tell that some parts of it were older than others. It looked so familiar she had to catch her breath as happy memories of simpler pleasures assailed her.

“What’s wrong?” Lorie’s voice was low. Close.

“Nothing at all. It feels right. Your family has a beautiful home.”

The SUV door opened and Con was holding out his hand. “Wait until you see the inside.”

Sarah slid her palm against his, feeling the instant reaction along her skin, seeing the intensity of the energy around their fingers. The sensation echoed low in her stomach. Made her thighs tremble as she stepped onto the gravel drive.

Images of them together flooded her mind. They were against the door. The same fingers she was clutching had been thrusting inside her. She gasped for breath, tugging her hand out of his in the hopes that it would calm her desires.

Bang

She heard what sounded like a gunshot and a scream in the distance and instinctively fell to her knees, hiding behind a large tire. The adrenaline that had been arousal was instantly replaced by fear. This was how she would die today. It had been one long, elaborate illusion to show her everything she wanted, only to rip it all away before she could feel complete. Was it really true? Surely the spell had not adapted that profoundly?

“Sarah, I need you to hear me. It was just a motorcycle. A vehicle with two wheels and one loud engine. You’re free. You will not die today. I promise you, you are free.”

Lorie had pulled her into his arms, repeating his comforting words over and over as he rocked her. His embrace infused her with a feeling of safety and serenity. How did he do that so easily—make her trust him? Believe his words?

But still, she needed more confirmation. “Are you certain? You were there. What if we’re having the same visions?”

Lorie cupped her face in his hands, studying every feature as though she were as stunning to him as he was to her. “We’re not. Don’t you remember? We wouldn’t be together. I couldn’t hold you if we were still there. The spell insured it. Now out here? It would be no punishment to die with my arms around you. In fact, that’s exactly how I’m planning to go…in a hundred years or so.”

In his sea blue eyes, in that moment, she saw herself through him. Long dark waves of hair curling wildly down her back, eyes that were no ordinary brown, but the color of the caramel she’d had on top of her decadent dessert and framed by thick, ebony lashes.

She was beautiful to him. She felt beautiful
because
of him. And she realized—with a sense of revelation that almost scared her—she felt loved. He’d said he’d dreamt of her since he was a child. His magic had given him a vision of his match that he’d spent a lifetime pursuing. She tore her gaze from his to look down at the ground they were kneeling on. She didn’t deserve that kind of adoration.

If the reality of who she was disappointed him, she could not tell. But how could it not? She wasn’t whole, and he couldn’t truly save her.

Con shuffled his feet beside them. “I’ve shielded the grounds. No one, human or otherwise, will be disturbing us.”

Shielded? That was his ability? She hadn’t known. Hadn’t asked. She glanced up at him, smiling through unexpected tears. “That was my father’s ability. A hero’s ability. Was it you who added the extra protection to the spell that released me?”

He nodded, almost bashfully as he helped her back onto her feet, Lorie right beside her. She reached up and kissed Con’s cheek. “Thank you.”

His expression was startled, his eyes darkening. “Anytime. Now let’s get you inside so shy little Lorie can have his wicked way with you.”

Lorie reached around her to punch Con’s arm. “Not so little, thank you very much.”

Sarah couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. And, with her fear receding once more, she had to agree. “Yes, let’s get me inside so I can be scandalized in the proper and modern Magian way.”

The two men recovered quickly from their shock. Lorie threw his head back with a laugh, and Con bent down to pick her up and set her over his shoulder.

He was already walking when he finally responded. “Nothing proper about it, baby. But I
can
promise you scandal.”

A tour of the house didn’t seem to be on the menu, as the men unceremoniously opened the door and strode swiftly past the large foyer and inviting den.

Sarah’s body bounced against Con’s back, shocks of light igniting everywhere they touched. When they turned down the hall and away from the stairs that appeared to lead to the bedrooms, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“My hideaway.” Lorie’s voice drifted to her through the narrow hallway. “We each have a special room in the house. One that no one else in the family can enter unless expressly invited. It was our fathers’ gift to us when we turned sixteen.”

“I love your dads. They actually understand the word privacy.” Con chuckled, the vibration traveling through his back against her breasts.

Sarah whimpered, trying to distract herself from her desire. The room. She had to think about the room. “Is it a library?”

Con laughed harder, and she bit her lip. “She’s got your number, man. Lorie’s Library. His home away from home.”

“Not exactly. But it does seem like the right place for us to greet you properly.”

There was the sound of tapping on a door. A melody? And then the click of a lock opening from the inside. Con let her slide down his body. Slowly. Torturing her with a knowing grin. When her feet hit the floor he released her and stepped back. “Ready?”

More than ready. She turned and Lorie gestured for her to enter before him, his expression watchful. This was his haven. Was he concerned she was invading it?

She forgot to care when she saw the room. “Oh.”

Con whistled. “Oh, is right. Lorie? Man, I had no idea we had the same taste in furniture.”

Sarah saw the opulent furnishings. The sitting area that appeared wide enough to be a bed. The bed that was wide enough for all of them and more. The strange, slender chair that was swinging from the ceiling.

There were books piled in corners and on the floor along the wall, but this was no library. It was a den of temptation and decadence, complete with a reflective wall beside the bed. A wall that she sensed was more than it seemed.

But it was the art—sketches and paintings resting on easels and hanging on the walls—that ensnared her. They were all of one woman. In abstract. From behind and in profile. Nude and barely clothed. The details were exquisite, as if the artist had spent hours perfecting each one. The subject had long, dark hair and caramel eyes. She also had a distinctive birthmark on her hip.

Her. Every drawing was of her.

She might be disturbed if it weren’t so flattering. If it weren’t Lorie who had painted them. “How?”

Lorie came up behind her, his hands warm on her waist. “I told you, Sarah. I dreamt of you for years. I would wake in the night and have to recreate you, have to hold you in my mind. I suppose this is more your room than mine.”

Con stretched out on the couch that was twice as wide as he was and sighed. “Let’s compromise and call it
our
room. I know I feel right at home here.”

Sarah smiled at Con’s words, but the moment she turned in Lorie’s embrace, she was lost. The way he was looking at her. The longing and hunger in his expression. The magic pulsing between them, beating with a single heartbeat. Connected.

“Will you stand there staring at each other all night or am I going to have to move this along?” Con placed several pillows behind his head and watched them, answering his own question. “Sarah, I believe you and Lori have some catching up to do. Why don’t you take your clothes off and go wait for him on the bed?”

A startled glance in his direction told her this was not another attempt at humor. It was worded as a request, but its tone held a hint of command. She had the strangest reaction to it.

Excitement.

She walked slowly over to the edge of the bed and began to remove her shoes and jeans, watching the two men as they watched her.

The desire in both their eyes sent a heady rush through her system. Con may be directing her actions, but their looks said she had all the power. She controlled them with each button she released. They were her captives.

By the time she’d removed her last piece of clothing and climbed on all fours onto the bed, she was shaking with need. Lorie was so still and silent she might have worried he’d changed his mind, if not for the pulse beating a passionate drumbeat in his neck. If not for his clenched jaw and stained cheeks. Or those eyes, brilliant in their longing.

“I’m here,” she whispered breathlessly. “What now?”

Con’s fists were clenched behind his head. She could see the white of his knuckles. “Now if Lorie doesn’t join you, I will.” Lorie didn’t need to be told twice. He stripped in record time and stood in front of her, steps away from her mouth to let her look her fill.

Had she called him an angel? His face
was
perfect, almost innocent in its beauty. His body made her ache. A fallen angel. A man sculpted to indulge in a woman’s every sinful thought. A man she had to sample.

She leaned forward and licked her lips, eager to take his hard cock into her mouth, when Con’s voice stopped her. “Not yet, Sarah. Turn your hips toward me. That’s right, good girl. Now spread your legs. More. That is nice. Okay, now you can taste him. But don’t let him come. Not until I say. Not until he’s inside you.”

Lorie was watching her carefully, trying to hold himself back and gauge her reaction at the same time. “You can say no anytime, sweet Sarah. You’ll never be forced.”

Perhaps this should disturb her, these strong men controlling her actions. Guiding her. But it was having the opposite effect. With them, it seemed, she had no shame. She smiled. “Is it wrong that I enjoy it? That I have no desire to say no?”

His blue eyes darkened and his teeth clenched. “No, sweet. It’s right. It’s perfect. You were made for us.” He slid his fingers through her hair and tugged lightly. “And since you have no objections, I think Con gave you a command.”

Yes. Yes, he had. She leaned forward, feeling Lorie’s fists clench in her hair when she opened her damp lips over the tip of his shaft. Her magic rose up from a well deep inside her, green and gold mingling with his soft lavender as she took him in her mouth.

Shameless. Wild. Heavenly. The words were not enough to describe her body’s reaction to this act. He was better than any dessert. Salty and hot and delicious on her tongue, she opened her mouth to take more of his width. To take all of him.

Her thighs were damp with arousal. Arousal she knew Con could see from across the room. And she wanted him to see. Wanted him to lick his lips as he imagined her taste on his tongue. She spread her legs farther apart and rocked her hips in time to her mouth’s rhythm.

A groan from the couch told her he was still watching. That he wanted to join them.

“Con, don’t you dare fucking move.” Lorie’s growl made her shiver.  “I need this. Need it. Oh, hell, Sarah. How are you—? What are you doing?”

She’d reached up with one hand to cup the tight sac at the base of his shaft, caressing it as she slid her mouth down until her lips nearly touched her fingers. She swallowed.

Con’s pained moans echoed in her ears. “She’s a natural. I knew she’d be a natural. Knew her mouth was made for us.”

Lorie’s hips jerked against her, his hands guiding her head almost helplessly against his cock. “I’m not sure I can hang on, Sarah. This feels too damn good. Oh, God, what your mouth can do should be a crime. Don’t stop. That’s it. I just. Need. A few more—”