And To Cherish (4 page)

“No. Did you?”

Wow. What he was thinking required a step away from reality. It also required a dent in his immediate plans, a rein put on his evening, and a complete idiot to even consider. Sam shook himself mentally. Then he did it physically. And then he grinned down at her.

“Okay. Well. Apparently this place has an electrical problem. They’d better fix it before someone gets hurt. Remind me to report it, okay?”

“Yes.”

He ran his thumb along her knuckles, grazing the flesh. She was so perfect! Small. And just then he heard the sound of his name. Shouted from across the parking lot. By what looked and sounded like the intern, John. Sam groaned.

“Time to go,” Sam leaned down to whisper it at Cherish’s ear. Got a thrill from being that near her, and had her at the door the next moment.

“Doctor Reid? Is that you?”

John’s voice came nearer. Or he was yelling. Sam waited impatiently for Cherish to adjust herself. She removed the sword in its scabbard. Placed it alongside her left leg. Looked across at him. He shut her door and raced to his. They had to leave. Now.

The intern was not getting a peek at Cherish. Not tonight.

Maybe never.

Sam slid into his seat. Shut the door. Hell. He was shaking. He wiped his palms along his thighs before fastening his seatbelt. Maybe she wasn’t noticing his actions as he put the vehicle in drive. And he didn’t once check for John in his rearview mirror.

“So. Hey. You been in St. Louis long?”

Cherish darted a look toward Samson Reid before returning her attention to her folded hands. Her canines were throbbing. Her heart was pounding. Her body was tingling. Everywhere. Abuzz with the aftereffects of that flash of wonder. She hadn’t lied when he’d asked if she’d done it. She hadn’t. But if she had to guess, she’d say it was a result of their touching. Because they were mates. They’d found each other.

And it was almost too much to fathom.

“What?” she asked.

“St. Louis. And you. Are you a native? You know, were you born here?”

“Oh. Yes.”

“I’m from Minnesota. Land of the Vikings, and all that.”

“Oh.”

“You ever been there?”

“No.”

“Man. I’m going to have to stop asking closed-ended questions. Everything I ask can be answered by a yes or no. And that’s exactly what I’m getting.”

“Is...that bad?” Cherish asked.

“Uh, no. I’m just trying to make small talk. Get to know you. It uh...helps dampen nervousness. And...crap. That was a stupid thing to say.”

His expression matched the chagrinned note in his voice. Cherish glanced at him again and couldn’t look away. He was frowning slightly while concentrating on his driving. The dashboard light illuminated him with shadows and highlights, giving her a very good view. It enhanced his handsomeness, if that was even possible.

“I was born here. And stayed. I’ve never been outside of the city,” Cherish informed him.

He glanced at her and then back to the road. In that instant, her heart stumbled. The tingling intensified. She almost gasped.

“Seriously? Wow. You’ve never left the city? Ever? Not even for a vacation?”

“No.”

He glanced at her again. She caught the remonstration in his look while her body gave her the exact same responses as before. Only it felt like bubbles were tickling her nose, too. This mating thing was extraordinary. Entertaining. And extremely fun. Nobody had mentioned that part.

“I mean, no. I’ve never left. Not even for a vacation.”

“So, you’re a permanent resident?”

“Yes.”

His eyebrows rose and he glanced at her again. Then back to the road.

“Oh. I should say more. Yes. I am a permanent resident of the city.
Very
permanent.”

“Never considered getting out? Checking out the world? Oh. Excuse me a moment.”

There was a baby bird sound emitting from him somewhere. Cherish watched as he fumbled with a hand beneath a lapel, did something to silence the chirping, before he glanced at her and winked. The wink sent a burst of fizz through the tingling. It was entirely enjoyable. Her eyes widened.

“Uh. Sorry about that. Last time you’ll be interrupted. Swear.”

“It is?”

“I turned off my phone. I am not taking calls this weekend. Not from an intern with a big nose and a lot of questions, anyway.”

“A big nose?”

“It’s a metaphor.”

“A metaphor?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t have a big schnoz, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s just a big snoop and wants to know everything. Especially the things that don’t concern him.”

“Oh.”

“That does remind me however. Where did you get your falconry training?”

“My...training?”

“My bird landed on your shoulder. Without an ounce of caution. I know Nightshade. He’s not your social butterfly. He doesn’t take to others easily. And yet you? He didn’t have one qualm.”

“I don’t have any training.”

“Seriously? That was one heck of a move you made, then. How did you know he’d respond to you?”

“I didn’t.”

“You have some set of instincts, then. You should consider taking up falconry. You’d be amazing. And...if you do, I think I can find a first-rate teacher for you.”

He grinned. Her heart did another odd movement, thudding rapidly, giving two short bursts, and then returning to a rhythmic pounding she wasn’t accustomed to yet. All very mystifying. Exciting.

“Who?”

“Me.”

His grin widened. Cherish gasped. It was audible. She had to look away, back to her hands. This was...unbelievably exhilarating. And she couldn’t wait to get to his home.

He was reading her mind. Or something.

“Finally! This is my turn-off. We’re almost there. You can probably guess where I live. Yes?”

“Why?”

He rolled his head before returning his attention to the road. “Dang. I was told everyone knows Soulard is
the
place to live in St. Louis. It’s a historic neighborhood, full of chic apartments, and all kinds of entertainment. It’s where all the cool people hang out. And now I find out I was lied to. I’ve got a certified permanent resident of St Louis telling me it was all a story. Good thing I’m only renting. Ah. Here we are. Hang tight. Looks like its busy tonight. I’ll have to park where I can find space. You don’t mind a small walk, do you?”

“How small?”

“Couple of blocks. And if you want, we can pop into a pub or café and maybe have a brewsky. Or a latte, if you’re a coffee drinker.”

“A brewsky?”

“A beer. Would you like that?”

“I just want to be with you,” she answered. “Alone.”

“Oh...
man
! A woman who knows her mind. And speaks it. How in the heck did I get so lucky? Where have you been hiding all my life, Beautiful?”

He was at her door, holding it open, his hand out to her. Cherish eyed it warily.

“I was here. In St. Louis. I already told you,” she replied.

He chuckled. “Sounds like my sense of humor needs work. And my timing. You ready? Oh. One slight item. You probably should leave your weapon here.”

“My...sword?”

She pulled it against her leg defensively. It was part of the personae she’d assumed after Akron gave her power over not only mortality, but anyone she came across. She’d wanted to look fierce. Strong. Competent. She’d updated her look as she found something she liked. The corset was from the Edwardian period. The leather jacket from the 1950’s. The jeans were newer. They’d replaced her leather mini-skirt. She’d also trained with Margolis, one of VAL’s sword masters. He’d given her this sword. It was part of the barrier she hid behind. The one Akron had spoken of.

“It’s real, isn’t it?” Samson asked.

“Yes.”

“Thought so. It’s pretty lethal-looking. Not that I’m a judge. I know birds and animals. Not weapons. But, don’t worry. I have an alarm system on the rig. Your sword will be safe. Promise. We can even lock it in the back compartment if you want.”

“I have to leave it?”

“We probably won’t need it. It’s a small walk, and I’m a big guy. I’ll take care of you. Trust me.”

Cherish swallowed and looked away for a moment. Did she really dare trust another? Even if he was her mate? She looked back toward him. Met his eyes.

“Besides, I have to tell you. You really don’t need the enhancement. Not that I have much experience with taking a smoking-hot, warrior-goddess chick through the neighborhood, but I’m going to guess you’re going to attract attention. A lot of it. A sword would be overkill. Here. Maybe you should wear my coat.”

He was pulling it off as he spoke. He had very wide shoulders. Cherish licked her lips. He reacted, closing his eyes, while he visibly trembled. A shot of delight rushed through her veins. Heated her cheeks. Warmed her heart.

“It’s...cold,” she replied.

“We’ll walk quickly. We’ll be at my apartment in no time. I’ll warm you.”

It was Cherish’s turn to shake. What an enjoyable sensation! She closed her eyes to encapsulate it. When she opened them, he was watching. Evaluating. And liking what he saw. His expression reflected all of it.

“Come on, Cherish. Trust me. Take me hand.”

“I’m not sure...we should touch,” she whispered.

“That again? I thought you said it wasn’t you.”

He sounded wary, but he looked entertained. She didn’t know him well enough to judge, but his smile didn’t falter.

“It wasn’t,” she answered.

“Okay. Compromise. I’ll keep the coat handy, and you can hold onto my arm. Will that be better?”

He turned sideways to her and offered his arm. Cherish didn’t know much about falconry, or ornithology, but they didn’t sound like occupations that should engender physical activity. Strenuous training. Rigorous muscle building. It must, however, because Doctor Reid’s shirt hugged him, putting a masculine, defined bicep on display. Cherish pulled in her lower lip and trembled as she reached for him. She knew exactly what the sensation was.

Pleasure.

She didn’t know why she’d fought this mating thing. So far, it was the best experience of her existence. She couldn’t wait to see what else it held. She slid from the seat and reached for him. Her fingers wrapped about his muscle as an electric jolt flashed along the sidewalk, dimming the nearest street light before it recovered.

“Wow. You know...um. Touching you looks like it should carry a warning sign. But it is really cool. And highly addictive. I can’t
wait
to get you alone! I hope you’re ready for a brisk walk. Because I am not waiting.”

Brisk walk?

His sense of humor was intact. She hoped she managed to keep her feet on the ground.

His apartment was an enclosed space that smelled of warmth. Musk. Spice. It matched her mate’s smell. Exactly. Cherish forced her attention to something besides Samson Reid. Now that they’d reached a private space, trying to rein back the sensations overtaking her was a difficult task. Worse than during the walk. And that had been excruciating. Each step gave her more sensory details. They’d moved at a very brisk pace. Good thing. Her troubles increased with every step. Her fangs had vibrated in her mouth with increasing strength. Each breath had come with a rush. Her muscles had tightened and jittered with tension. And her bosom!

Oh my!

Cherish had nearly put a hand to where the corset-top pushed her upwards. She should have taken his offer of a coat. Or fastened her jacket. Her reason wasn’t due to any onlookers. She hadn’t even noticed. She was dealing with the physical feel of night air on her skin. It did increasingly tormenting things. Especially her nipples. They were like raw bits of nerve endings. Rubbing. Stimulating.

“Well. This is it. My apartment.”

Warm breath accompanied his words as he flicked a switch, sending a small glow from a table lamp. He clicked on another switch, lighting more of the space. Cherish didn’t turn toward him. Not yet. She didn’t dare. She was grateful she’d fed already. His blood was like a beacon, sending impulses. Awakening needs. It tantalized. Pulled. She could barely restrain the urge.

“Your...apartment.” she repeated. Her voice slurred. That was probably her fangs. But the sound also wavered. That reflected how off-kilter she felt. Excited. Tense.

“Yeah. So. What do you think?”

He had a small apartment, a few feet larger than her mausoleum. She had the dimensions pegged instantly. He had a lot of windows. Large ones. They filled two walls of the space they were in, and she could see another one at the end of his hall. His living area and kitchen were one room, divided by a sofa that faced a large flat rectangular thing. Something hummed from the far corner of the kitchen area. It caught her ear for a second. And then other sounds intruded. Strains of mixed-genre music. Steps. Shouts. Talking. Somewhere in the apartment complex outside his door, all kinds of people were laughing. Chatting. Existing.

“You okay? The walk wasn’t too...strenuous?”

Strenuous.

The word conjured images. Her. Him. Shedding their clothing. Melding.

Cherish managed to nod. She was still attached to his arm, her fingers affixed about his bicep. She tightened every muscle, working to contain any other type of response. While she still could.

“You want a glass of wine? Or maybe you’d like to uh...freshen up? The bathroom is...uh...whoa.”

Cherish turned toward him as he spoke. Focused on his throat, where a vein trembled with his pulse. His voice had lowered, before halting altogether. She didn’t catch what he’d said. His mouth had been moving. His lips were full. Inviting. She’d never been kissed. Never really cared. But, oh! How she wanted one now.

She put the fingers of her free hand on his chest, flattening her palm so she could feel his heart beating against her skin. With the same rhythm as hers. Each beat sent a spark shooting right to her breast tips. Her fangs elongated. Her lips parted. She couldn’t halt any of it. His shirt had a shadow-stripe woven into it. Her fingers slid along the fabric lines, following them upward, before wrapping about his neck. Her eyes were focused entirely on his lips. So moist. So...inviting.

“Or...we can kiss right here. I’m good with that, too.”

He licked his lips and Cherish reacted, pulling his head toward her while everything else lunged upward. Their lips met. Her canines sliced. And absolute chaos ensued. Samson slammed backward into the wall, taking the brunt of it with his shoulders. Liquid warmth filled her mouth. Heat hit her chest cavity. Her heart seized up for a moment before it crashed to the pit of her belly, sending powerful, heavy beats from there. They matched the movement of their lips. Meshing. Joining.

Each gesture added fuel to the incendiary feeling. Something behind her crackled and then exploded. She caught the sound of glass. Ignored it. Moved even closer to him. Smashed her breasts against a hard chest. She heaved up, wrapping her legs about his thighs. Moaned. Sliced at her inner lower lip, opening a cut that welled blood. And then she waited.

Samson tasted.

And then he reacted.

Shuddering overcame him, rocking her with it. Groans filled the space as he latched onto her mouth, laving and caressing as he consumed their comingled fluid.

This was incredible. Immense. Almost too much so.

Cherish broke the kiss and licked her way to his throat. Toward the vein she’d seen. The succor she needed. His bowtie stopped her before she ripped at it, shredding the satin into waste cloth. And then she was there. Cherish stabbed into his throat. And the area went crazy. The world careened off its axis. Re-righted itself. And then spun the other way.

“Oh, Cherish! Baby. You are so good. So...wild! So...
ah
!”

The words tickled her tongue as they passed through his throat. Samson had his head back, his hands about her waist, pinning her in place. He was shoving his pelvis against hers, grinding her against something unfamiliar. Hard. Large. Active. Fascinating.

Cherish pulled away from his neck, he dropped his head, and their gazes locked. And she pulsed in response.

“I want to mate with you,” she whispered.

“Oh
sweet
! Mating sounds so...yeah. You got it. And...uh. Are you kidding me? You had your teeth done into fangs? The warrior-goddess look wasn’t enough? Oh wow. Cherish. You are beyond incredible.”

She ignored his query. Time for that later. Much later. Right now she was in the grip of something visceral and basic. Overwhelming. Necessary. It created steamed heat. Moist needs. A primal-sounding beat filled the hallway with slow, low-pitched, thumping sounds. She moved her hands to her shoulders, shrugging her jacket off. The whisper of sound as it landed was barely noticeable through their panting breaths. Her corset was next. He was watching as she slipped the top hook free. The next one down. The third one. He reacted with a pent breath, a stiffening of his frame, a shudder. By the fifth hook, she’d freed her breasts enough she could rub them against his shirt. The move tormented and teased. But failed to deliver the succor she sought. Samson seemed to know. He lifted her upward, and a moment later, he reached a nipple. He licked. Toyed. And then he latched onto it and sent her senses into a larger tailspin than before.

“Oh, my! Oh, yes! Oh...Samson! Yes!”

Words burst out, scraping her throat. Another glass globe exploded somewhere in the room behind them. Samson moved his attention to her other peak, multiplying the pleasure as he suckled. Cherish had never experienced such rapture, yet instinctively knew it was just a prelude. She put her hands beneath Samson’s chin, tilted his head toward her, releasing his grip on her. The expression on his face sent her into another realm of vibration. Heat. Sensory stimuli.

He lowered her while she was still trembling with the combination of sensations. And then he was nuzzling her lips with his again. Making words. Sending breath with the sound. Heat.

“Cherish. Babe. We gotta move this to the bedroom. I mean this hall isn’t conducive to...oh yeah. That. Wow.”

His words choked off as Cherish rotated her hips, sliding her jeans along the strange part of him.

“Okay. Bedroom can wait. Got it. But this suit is really gonna be a problem.”

Cherish pulled back to run her fingers down the length of his hidden shirt placket front. Buttons popped off as she went, until the linen was unfastened. Gapped. She wasn’t waiting any longer. She ripped the shirt open and shoved it off his shoulders with hands that shook. She didn’t know what she was doing. It was instinctive. It was necessary. And it wasn’t optional. Samson was reacting, too, speaking words between pants for breath that matched hers.

“Shit. Okay. Suit...is a non-issue. I’ll replace the damn thing. Oh. Crap. I’ve got cuff links. You may have to...stop for a moment.”

He held her with one arm to lift the other, showing how the shirt was affixed to his wrist. Cherish grabbed his sleeve, pulled, and ripped his arm free of the restriction. Then she did the same with his other arm.

“Or not.”

Samson chuckled before moving a hand to her waist. He slipped open the button of her denims. Gripped the top of her zipper fastener. His knuckles grazed her skin, bare between the bottom of her half-opened corset and her jeans. The contact electrified. Sizzled. Their gazes locked. Hers was wide. Startled. His was unreadable.

“Well. I’m not letting you get all the fun,” he told her.

He unzipped her fly. Slipped his hand beneath her panties. Cherish sucked in a breath that iced. Shocked. Stunned. And then his fingers touched her most intimate place and sent rocket flares shooting right through her. Cherish went wild. She rocked and gyrated, and shrieked. Sensations beyond imaging swelled into being all through her. Conquering. Claiming. Owning. All kinds of glass items sounded like they became casualties in the room behind her. And she didn’t remotely care.

“Oh Cherish. Babe. We really need to get this...to the bedroom.”

The words were tortured-sounding. It matched the iron-like consistency of his entire frame. He’d pulled his hand from contact with her in order to grip her buttocks. He’d put his head on her shoulder, bowing his back, and he was pumping his loins at hers, making thudding noises against the wall behind him.

“Oh. Cherish. You’re so wild. So hot. So...
sweet
.”

“Yes,” she murmured.

She wasn’t really listening. She was absorbing. Experiencing. And exploring. Her hands roamed the muscled ropes of his belly. She reached a wide band of satin material strapped about his waist. It stopped her. Cherish looked up at him with a frustrated look.

“Cummerbund. I know. Stupid design. I won’t wear it again. Trust me. Now, hang on. We’re moving this.”

“Wait!” She tensed.

“What? Why?”

“I’ll walk.”

“Like hell you will.”

“We...might fall.”

“You feel this?”

He ground his pelvis against her. A tremor coursed through him. A look of torment crossed his features.

“This is the center of my world at the moment. Got it?”

She nodded.

“Good. Besides, I didn’t just play with birds...my entire life. I spent every summer on my grandpa’s ranch. Tossing hay. Working livestock. There is zero chance we’ll fall. Trust me.”

He started walking, each stride punishing her with more sensation. More titillation. More sensory strangeness. All emanating from where his groin was shoved against her.

“You...promise?”

The whisper sounded like a stranger. Raspy. Low. It didn’t sound like the Cherish who’d been neglected and forgotten at the orphanage, nor did it resemble the accomplished assassin she’d become, either.

“Cherish. Honey. I have to tell you. There is only one thing on my mind right now. One. It’s want. Need. Gotta have. You get me? And it’s massive. I don’t care about suits. Or noise. Hell. I don’t even care about condoms. Now, hold on.”

He launched sideways. Cherish caught the cry with clenched teeth, cutting her lower lip again before they landed atop a bed. Things fell with thumping sounds as the mattress bounced at least twice. Cherish wasn’t counting. She was dealing with the physical reality of his size. Weight. Feel. He pulled up onto his knees, working the array of muscles in his abdomen as he swiveled to yank one of her boots off. He rotated to the other side to remove the other boot. He wasn’t being gentle. Every move was purposeful. Driven. Highly enjoyable to watch. Her jeans were next. The legs went inside-out as he yanked them off, one leg at a time. Her panties followed, although he only got them off one leg. And then he just stopped, his gaze like a touch as he sent it over her. Only the corset-top still covered her, closed at her waist with three hooks. Cherish had never felt so open or vulnerable.

Nor, had she ever felt so adored.

And then he looked up at her. The look on his face ripped through her conscience. Shredding restrictions. Altering time. He looked angered. Predatory. It almost frightened. And totally thrilled.

“I sure hope you’re ready.”

“I—”

Her whisper still sounded like a stranger. And then even the ability to speak fled her. Because he opened his trousers and shoved them down, along with his undergarment, releasing something massive. Thick. And completely foreign. Her mouth dropped open. This, then...was what the older girls had whispered and giggled over? Back at the Orphanage when they were culling vegetables? This was the rumored payment the mistress received from the handyman? She’d heard it resembled a squash. A cucumber. It might, but it was more weapon-like. And she hadn’t known it was this big. Her eyes flew from it to his face and back again.

“Oh, babe. Oh, Cherish. Sweet. Sweet. Cherish.”

He ran his hands along her thighs, cinched them about her waist. Cherish slid easily along his sheets as he pulled her to him. Matched them. And then he hesitated, poised for a moment in time, dangling her on the precipice of discovery. It was Cherish who continued the union, wrapping her legs about him and shoving downward. But then she stopped as she got not more excitement and bliss, but pain.

“Cherish. Sweet. You’re hot. Wet. But
so
small. So amazingly...tight.”

What was this? Nobody had mentioned pain. Cherish arched her head back, her fangs on full display as he continued entering her. She suffered. And endured.

“So...small. Wait. No. Cherish. It can’t be. No.”

Samson lowered, leaning on his arms, covering her. Cherish’s chin came down. She met his gaze. And her entire body pulsed upward, stopped as her flesh met his. Shivers followed, roving her skin. The reactions altered things. His hair-band had come undone, sending hair streaming over his shoulders and sides, creating an enclosure that contained just the two of them. Chests heaving. Bare skin touching.