Darksider: Reveler Series 3 (8 page)

“You’ve been through…a thing…
good Lord, woman
…and you asked me not to.”

She pulled back a little and gazed into his eyes. Mr. White Knight. Sir Winks-a-Lot. He looked miserable.

“Okay,” she said, but couldn’t help testing her hips again. “But a person can change her mind.”

“You were pretty specific last night about me not taking advantage, and to top it off, we had a really bad dream last night.”

Not bad exactly. “It was revelatory.”

He closed his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. “Believe me when I say there’s nothing I want more than you.”

That appeased her. Slightly. “How about I make you a deal?”

He grunted. His nostrils flared. He kept his eyes shut.

Harlen was so cute when he was being good. “I’ll make you breakfast and demonstrate that I am in no way compromised—”

“You could make a great breakfast inebriated and with both hands tied behind your back, but go on.”

“—and then we have sex. Lots of sex.”

His eyes opened. “What happened to you?”

You.
“I slept well for once.” She had so much energy. “And I’d forgotten how amazing sharing dreams could be.”

“It was a horrible dream.”

She laughed out loud. “Then you are seriously in for it when we have a good one.”

He touched a finger to the patch of gauze on her forehead. Grazed his fingertips over her cheekbone. “Maybe you have brain damage.”

“Nope. I just forgot.” She’d made herself forget how he was, how he made her feel. “So the sex?”

He gave her a look of mock seriousness. “If you can prove you’re in your right mind, I suppose I could have sex with you. And it’s okay if you decide you’d rather not, too.”

“Done.” She wouldn’t change her mind. She hopped off his lap and headed for the kitchen, mentally racing through the list of ingredients she’d need—eggs, milk, flour, and butter. Plus a little fresh fruit. “FYI, I’m going simple. Light. Fuel food. You’ll love it!”

***

Harlen availed himself of her mouthwash and then decided to put his shirt back on so she would feel better if she got nervous and reconsidered throwing caution to the wind.

He wanted to make absolutely sure that when she said yes to him, she’d had time to think, because after that, there’d be no backing out. No mistakes. She’d escaped him once. This time, if she
dared
say yes, he was keeping her. And if she railed at him later—probably would—he could say she’d made her own damn bed, now she had to lie in it. With him. Naked.

At least her eyes were brighter this morning, which was good to see, but the skin around the wound on her forehead had deepened to purple. Yesterday she’d answered her front door with a knife in hand. And today she wasn’t worried? Wasn’t still scared?

What had gotten into her? There’d been a shift—he didn’t know when—but it was definitely in his favor.

He tried to think back, but all the stuff he’d heard in Maisie’s dreamscape became a jumble in his head, and a familiar sense of pressure—of being strangled, of losing his grip—drew every muscle tight, as if to fight back.

It wasn’t hard to identify the source of the anxiety: the proxy drop. He was going to do it again. Just thinking about it made his hands shake. Worse were the black spots that would obscure his vision—but those would come later, after. He didn’t want to think about it now.

Sera first.

Slightly off-key humming floated in from the kitchen. He left her bedroom to join her and had the oddest sensation that maybe
this
was a dream world. Her world. She flashed him a smile while dropping a pinch of something in a bowl. She’d always been his dream.

By the time he approached the kitchen bar, she already had a skillet on a lit stove.

“You still have a stalker,” he said to pinch them both. “And if he is Chimera, then he’s even more dangerous.”

“Yeah, I got that last night.” She held up two containers of fruit. “Blueberries or strawberries?”

He pointed to the strawberries. “And you’re not concerned anymore?”

She shrugged, switched out berries for a bowl and began some expert whipping. “The problem is being handled by the best, I’ve got a hot bodyguard at my disposal 24-7 and unexpected time off work. What’s to worry about?”

He sat down on a stool and watched as she brushed the pan with butter and ladled in some batter, then did some expert swirly move to spread the batter around in a thin layer. She placed it back on the heat, then a few seconds later, gave it a quick tug to flip.

Finally, she placed a plate before him. “Bon appétit.”

He was hoping that this was just the starter.
Did breakfast even come with starters?
The food looked beautiful, a thin but fluffy rolled-up pancake dusted with powdered sugar with an artfully placed side of strawberry and crème. It smelled amazing, but he was going to need five times the amount. “You joining me?”

“Yep.” She set a plate next to his on the bar.

He’d lifted his fork to cut off a bite, when movement caught his attention.

Sera was just stepping out of her sweatpants, leaving just her pink underwear peeking out from under her faded blue tee. Pretty, pale legs walked around the island and then dangled from the stool seat where she sat, as if nothing were unusual.

His fork deviated on its way to his mouth. “What’s that about?”

She pulled her plate toward her. “Time management. I’m an expert now. A chef has to make sure all components of a dish are served at the perfect temperature at the same time. I’m doing an experiment to see how it applies to other areas of my life.”

“Ah.” A rush of satisfaction swept him. She was trying to seduce him, and accordingly, he was getting uncomfortable. He wasn’t complaining, though.

“Eat.” She used a knife and fork to cut her food and took a bite. Closing her eyes, she let her head drop back in ecstasy. “I forgot how good crepes could be. I rarely cook breakfast. Well, don’t have anyone to cook for, so that probably has something to do with it.” She speared a half of a strawberry and popped it in her mouth, too. Smiled at him.

“You can cook for me anytime.” He was just putting the first bite into his mouth when she stripped off her shirt.

A laugh, warm and full, broke from his throat. As always, she was ruthless. She had to have her way.
Still not complaining.

Her bare breasts bounced, full and creamy, as her arms dropped and she picked up her fork.

“Does the crepe taste like you remember?” A flush was creeping up her chest, and she wasn’t nervous about the food. She knew it was delicious.

He was a man of strong appetites, and one in particular was winning, no contest. “I’m starving, Sera.”

The blush deepened. She pointed her fork toward his breakfast. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

“That’s not what I mean at all.” He put his fork down. He’d see to it that she made him crepes again. And again. And again. He didn’t actually have to eat any of them, and they’d still be his favorite food.

He bent over and picked her up off her stool, his shoulder to her waist like a fireman rescue.

She was laughing, victorious, “Have I proven myself then?”

“Nope.” He didn’t understand her at all. “You’ve just compromised me, too.”

“Ah. My strategy worked.” She grabbed his shoulders for balance. Not necessary—he held her tight.
 

As he stalked back toward the bedroom, he dragged off her underwear and smacked her bare ass.

Her laugh grew richer. “Hey!”

“Time management,” he said. “I’m a quick study.”

***

The way Harlen was carrying her, she thought he was going to go full caveman, but then he laid her carefully on the bed, frowning at her forehead.

“I’m really okay,” she told him. “Looks worse than it feels.”

“Uh-huh.” He sounded unhappy about it, but he dragged off his shirt, and her eyes reveled in the contours and cuts of his muscles. The man was bigger than a lot of other guys—it ran in his family—but not a millimeter of his flesh was excessive. A light smattering of hair fanned out on his defined pecs, then created a funnel that ran the length of his six-pack to disappear into his jeans—
no, wait
—his jeans and boxers were suddenly gone, and she was smiling even wider.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner,” she said. “I honestly thought I was just having nightmares.”

Harlen leaned down to crawl in with her. “You can call me about nightmares, too.”

“Next time I will. I promise.” She expected the full length of his body to settle on top of her. She was ready to grab hold of him, to feel his weight on her hips and pressing against her breasts, to wrap her legs around him. Sparks were flaring all through her system in anticipation.

But he passed over and lay beside her. His hands—hot, firm—ran upward over the length of her body, from inside her thigh—she raised her knee to give him access—up her belly, and stopped to cup a breast, bending his head to simultaneously upbraid her nipple with his tongue and then suck, drawing hard enough to sting.

She wiggled a little to show her impatience. She didn’t want to go slow right now. “Har—”

There’d been a time when he was all too willing to jump right to the good stuff.

“Patience.” His mouth closed over hers, tongue running the seam between her lips and then delving inside to taste, and then consume. The kiss went so deep she could hardly breathe. She struggled a little, her heartbeat speeding up, but he maintained his slow assault. He was teaching her a new rhythm. As she exhaled, he drew her breath inside him, and then she inhaled him, back and forth until they sustained each other.

Could’ve been oxygen deprivation—she didn’t mind—but she could feel herself changing with him, letting go of how it had been between them once. Letting go of herself—such a relief—so that there was only Harlen in her mind.

Just as she succumbed, he leaned in. The contact had a percussive effect, and her body rippled in response. He stroked downward, across her belly, and lower. She arched, but he didn’t break his kiss. She whimpered, but he only stroked deeper, to her center, where his dexterous fingers unknotted her nerve endings so that he could puppet them. When his thumb brushed her, lightning crackled throughout her core.

God.
She gripped the headboard with one hand and grabbed hold of the arm supporting his weight with her other. If he was going to do it like this, he’d just have to support the both of them.

He pulled back from the kiss slightly, a mischievous smile curling one side of his mouth, a gleam in his eye. And then his teeth went for her earlobe, his stroke below unforgiving.

Patience? She wasn’t known for it. Where had he come by his? No, wait, she didn’t want to think about that now. Just the question made her heart hurt.

She’d been so long without sex that she couldn’t help but come, trembling at the stroke of his fingers, though it wasn’t the way she’d wanted it to go with him. No sooner had the tremors passed than his mouth was suddenly there, his morning stubble rough, chafing, but with a hard pull, her vision went white and she rocked harder. If she once had willpower, she’d ceded it to him.
Here. Have it. I’m done for. Call the Adria brothers, though.

Her limbs were heavy, and she throbbed just shy of pain. “But—”

He understood again. “I’m just getting to that.”

It was a good thing he was so strong because she had very little muscle control left. He lifted and turned her so that she was on her knees facing away from him. Another deft touch at her hips, and she arched for him. Two orgasms had made her super sensitized and tight, so when he finally pushed home—slow and deliberate—every single nerve ending jangled, crying out in welcome like a damn parade.

He rode her there, his face buried at the back of her neck, arm across her chest, a hand tight on a breast. The other secured and guided her weight at his hips. She had only his muscle to keep from falling, but she didn’t care, blindly trusting. The unhurried intensity with which he stroked inside her confirmed that this was not the same man, and she’d have to learn him all over again.

At her peril, of course.

***

And that’s how it was done.

If Harlen had a cigar handy, he’d have been tempted to smoke it.

Sera—gorgeous Sera—was in a boneless sprawl on top of him. She was luscious, just round enough at her hips to dimple, a spot that he stroked lightly with his fingertips. And she was dazed. He’d
dazed
her. God, it was good to be alive.

She groaned.

He chuckled.

And then she pushed up to see his face. Accomplished the feat with one of her elbows digging into his chest. It hurt, but he didn’t think she was capable of much more.

“Yes?” he asked.

She heaved a sigh as if she’d climbed a mountain. “If you’re done showing off, can I please love you?”

Love him. She’d said the
L
word. It had taken him two years to get it out of her before.