Immortal Distraction (24 page)

She needed him, and she was pushing him away. She could hear her voice doing it, and yet, she couldn’t stop herself. She was punishing herself by being cruel to him. But he didn’t let her get away with it on this day anymore than any other.

“That’s not why I’m here at all, Brit, and I don’t appreciate the suggestion.” He looked at her in exasperation. She didn’t react at all but to stare at his chest. She couldn’t understand her reaction to him. Her heart was crying out for his comfort and strength, but her body and mind were refusing to show it. It was as if she were frozen in place unable to move past herself. He continued to watch her, wait for her to crumble, but she just stared at his chest, breathing shallow, tortured breaths. It was as if she could see what she needed standing right in front of her, but she couldn’t figure out how to ask for it, couldn’t figure how to move her body and take what she needed. And so she stood like a statue, feeling the torture of her own behavior.

He eventually gave up waiting for her to let go of the Brit they both hated, and he sighed. “I’ll see you this evening.” It was an exasperated sigh, and he paused as he reached the door and unlocked it. “I’m sorry about your mother, Brit. I know it’s hard for you.” And as he moved through the door letting it close behind him, she clutched the windowsill and let her tears fall silently. She hated herself. She hated that she was responsible for pushing away what she needed when he was so willing to give it to her. What the fuck was wrong with her?

* * * *

He could smell the wine emanating from her skin the moment she walked through his door. It was nearly eight o’clock, and she was nearly three hours overdue. She knew he was pissed given the way she looked quickly at him and then walked straight to his bedroom as his gaze followed her, glaring. She glanced at him once along the way, and the searing expression of his fury must have brought her up short because her heart started racing. Her face didn’t betray her though, and she showed him only a cool, harsh expression.

He followed her, and the moment he was within the room, he gave up holding his tongue. “What the fuck were you thinking going out to get drunk? As though staying out past dark and putting yourself in danger wasn’t enough, you decided impairing yourself with alcohol would be a good idea? Is that about right?” He was yelling, and he hated the sound of his voice. Angus didn’t yell. He was cool, calm, infuriatingly so by many accounts, but he didn’t lose his composure, not ever. He let men with lesser control than he do such things.

“I don’t owe you any explanation about where I was.” And she didn’t. Why would she? But he didn’t really care what she did or did not owe him. He’d been terrified. Terrified for three bloody hours waiting for her, and he was going to make sure she felt his fury.

“When this is all over, you can go right back to hating me and destroying your life with your self-loathing bullshit, but right now, there is a monster on the loose that wants you dead, and I’m your very best chance at survival, doll. You might want to consider that before you decide to so recklessly put yourself in danger again. I thought you were smarter than this, Brit.” He stormed out before she even had a chance to respond.

She stayed in the bedroom for the remainder of the night, and he tried to distract himself until he needed to leave to meet Aaron. He wanted to yell at her more; he was itching, in fact, to unload his anger. He’d held back from her for some odd reason, and he was desperate to release it. He’d been worried the moment the sun went down. He knew she was upset, and after thirty minutes of waiting, he had called Ember. She’d found her in a bar near her precinct, blessedly alone. Ember hung back watching her and reporting to Angus. She’d been hit on three times, and after yelling at the last suitor to
fuck off
, she stormed from the bar, taking a cab home.

He understood she was upset. But he wasn’t willing to accept the childish bullshit she was putting him through. He listened as the shower was turned on at ten, and he heard her turn the lights out shortly after. He was meeting Aaron at midnight, and he left after peeking into see her sleeping soundly in his bed. She was at least safe.

Aaron was a relatively young vampire by most standards. He’d transitioned young and while he was technically the next in line in his family, he had transitioned only a few decades before turning people was outlawed. He met him in a quiet all-night coffee shop. They ordered tea, which they left sitting on the table in front of them as they spoke. The expression on Aaron’s face as he related the events of late was all the confirmation Angus needed to appreciate the man understood vampire ethics as well as any. He was outraged that so many innocents had already been killed by Driscoll, and Langford had done little to stop it. It was also quite obvious he had a load of disdain toward Langford outside of even this.

“I’ve never liked the man, Angus. He’s far too interested in maintaining the easy life he wants than doing what’s right. If you decide to take him out, you’ll absolutely have my support. There’s little choice really. Too many are dying, and if something’s not done, it could expose us all.”

“Driscoll’s a no-brainer, but with Langford … you realize that leaves you next in line to head your family.” The man started shaking his head the moment the words were out of Angus’ mouth.

“This isn’t the life I want. I’m sorry, but … don’t ask me to give up my freedom for my family line.”

“I’m asking. And I wouldn’t if I didn’t have to.” The man regarded him with frustration. He wasn’t upset. He knew where Angus was coming from, but it didn’t mean he wanted the role. “It’s not the saddle you think it is. Truman heads his family but maintains his own private residence. It’s not what it used to be under Sylvan’s rule. You’ll have all the freedom you could need, but yes, you would be responsible for the members of your family.”

When it was all said and done, Aaron had not agreed to Angus’ request … but he hadn’t refused either. He wanted time to consider the proposal, and that was something at least.

When he returned home, he settled at his desk, and it wasn’t long until his bedroom door opened. It was three in the morning, and she looked tired, depressed. He was angry at her for resorting back to the woman he’d met over a month ago. And even though he understood it was her pain, a deep and long-rooted pain, that drove her attitude, he was still upset. She had a hold on him that he didn’t understand, and his anger was as much because she’d hurt him as anything else.

She was wearing a T-shirt that fit snug and fell to her waist and underwear and nothing else. He watched her strong and lean legs move gracefully toward him, and his jaw clenched hard. She’d been the catalyst of the sour mood, and he didn’t want to be the reason it was perpetuated any longer. But it was hard.

She stood rooted to her spot beside his chair, and he watched her carefully, trying hard to rein in his anger. “Care to trivialize my humanity again, sweetheart?” He wasn’t doing a good job.

She pursed her lips and swallowed hard over the lump in her throat. He was making her nervous, and even though her appearance didn’t suggest it, he could hear her nervous pulse. Half his heart wanted to touch her, forgive her; the other wanted to hurt her the way she’d hurt him. “I’m sorry.” He stared at her as she spoke the words and then exhaled a deep breath, and he crumbled inside though he showed her none of it. She wasn’t the woman he’d met at all a month ago. And he was insane to think she could be at this point. They were beyond that. He’d thought it before, and he knew it now, even if he might have questioned it.

She stepped in front of him, and without a word, she sat down on his lap and curled up against him. He could hear her heart racing, but the moment he wrapped his arms around her body, the rapid flutter relaxed. She pulled her legs up, and she snuggled against his neck. “I’m sorry too.” And then he let go of a long-overdue sigh, and he let go of the anger. “Making love this morning would have been a completely appropriate way to deal with how you were feeling. And I wanted to. I just didn’t want you to think it was why I was there. But I guess you did think that. And I obviously didn’t handle it well.”

She pulled from his shoulder, shaking her head with her eyes glistening with well-restrained tears. “No, I overreacted. What I said at the courthouse was wrong and mean. I accused you of caring for nothing but sleeping with me, and I don’t think that.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. And it’s not all I care about by a long shot.” He kissed her gently, trying hard to hide just how intensely he cared for her. It was surely more than she realized, and it was definitely more than he wanted to admit. And while he wanted her to understand he wasn’t just some man that valued her for what she could give him in the bedroom, he wasn’t ready for her to understand just how much he valued every part of her. He wasn’t ready to deal with any of that himself.

“Well aren’t we just being all adult about things.” She was kidding, and it left him chuckling as she snuggled back into his neck. He could feel her breath on the side of his neck. It was warm and his groin was tightening with nothing more than that touch alone. When she sat up again, she stared at him, contemplating. “So, just because we know sex isn’t the only thing we care about, does that mean we can’t do it?” A slight smirk crossed her lips as she spoke.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It means nothing of the sort.” He smirked in return and she smiled. The first time he met this woman, he thought certain he’d never see her smile—thought certain in fact, she didn’t even own a smile. But she was stunning with her small white teeth showing. It added to her youthful appearance. She was thirty-two, and he noticed when she was relaxed and content she looked far younger than even that, but when the weight of the world was pressing in around her, it aged her. She was stunning regardless. “Now stand up, turn around and let me see that cute little tush of yours I like so much.”

She crawled from his lap, and he listened to her heart rate speed and her arousal flood his senses. When she was standing in front of him with her back to him, he reached for the back of her underwear and pulled them down her bottom, letting them to fall to the floor. Her cheeks were pale, and his jaw suddenly throbbed in desire to bite. He could imagine sinking his teeth deep into her soft, supple flesh. Instead, he spoke in a husky and barely restrained voice. “Bend over.” He took his time kneading the round cheeks as her body continued to respond. He pushed her thighs apart, studying the lips of her pussy at the juncture of her thighs.

He ran a light touch over the lips of her vagina with the back of his knuckles, and she shivered, but he didn’t delve, he didn’t stroke; he waited for her arousal to build more. When his lips brushed soft kisses over her bottom, she groaned. And when he grazed his fingertips up the inside of her thighs, she instantly parted her legs further. But again, he stopped short of reaching for her sex. He could see the silky, creamy cum building between her lips, and he wanted to taste it.

When he sat back in his chair, it was to release his cock from his pants. His hand moved up, stroking his length as he stared at her small but plump pussy lips. He caressed his length as it twitched and jerked in his hand.

“Reach between your legs and spread you lips open, so I can see you.” He listened to the sudden flutter of her heart, but she pushed her hand between her body and the desk she was laying over and gently pried her lips apart. She was bright pink in flushed need, and her cum was glistening on the slick folds of silky tissue. “Now slide your finger inside.” She used her middle finger to push a stroke into her pussy, and when she slowly pulled it from her body, it was wet. His cock was dancing in his hand as he continued to stroke his aroused length. “Use your cum to wet your anus and slide your finger in there.” This stopped her cold, and her hand went rigid between her legs.

He paused a moment to see if she would comply, but she was terrified. He leaned up, ran a quick finger between the wet lips of her vagina as she shivered and trailed his finger up to the tight entry of her bottom. She jumped at his touch, and he coated her rim with her wetness. He pushed the tip of his middle finger in, and she groaned.

“Now, Brit. I want to see you finger your ass.” Her hand clenched in a tight fist for a moment before releasing the tension and pulling from beneath her body. She reached back over her hip and approached her anus from the top. Her hand was trembling as she moved, and when she grazed over the gathered skin, she let out a shocked gasp of breath. “Come on, love. Let me see it.”

Her middle finger delved a shallow penetration through her wet entry, and he groaned very quietly. He was so hard and engorged that his cock was red and inflamed in desperate need, but he was also so incredibly intoxicated with this sight of her that he wasn’t ready to give into what his cock wanted yet. She pushed a slow and steady stroke into her bottom as he gasped. He was frankly a little worried he might come if he didn’t stop touching himself, and so, he gripped the arms of his chair and stared.

Her finger pulled back out, and she thrust in once more. She pushed and pulled, fucking her ass with her middle finger as he watched. Her back curved forward and she lifted to her tiptoes as the muscles in her legs clenched. She was writhing with every penetration, and as he watched, the arousal built in her pussy and a dribble of cum slowly trickled down her lips. He was gripping the arms of his chair so hard he was quite certain it would break soon if he didn’t give his cock the relief it needed, and the moment a drop of her cum dripped to the floor between his feet, he was off his butt and pushing one swift, deep penetration into her pussy.

She cried out at the unexpected harsh invasion, and when she started pulling her finger from her bottom, he clamped her hand in place. “Don’t even think about it. Now use that finger and let me see it.” She started thrusting again, and he did to. He was pounding within moments and trying hard to rein in his movements. He was standing and she was bent fully to the top of his desk, and he craved all of her flesh against his. When he pulled her hand from her bottom, it was to wrap his arm around her waist and stand her. His other hand moved swiftly under her arm and up to her neck, gripping her throat gently and feeling the pulse of her life under his thumb.