Equal Parts (28 page)

Before I knew it, I’d opened my arms to him, letting him into my very soul. His next kiss seared me – there was no more teasing or hesitation. We both knew we were in this bed for good.

I stripped him of his shirt, his color such a beautiful contrast to my own, the muscles under the cinnamon-tinted skin shifting and stretching in a way that made me slightly dizzy. Just like with the morphine, my whole body ached for something I couldn’t name, something it demanded from Achilles alone. He read my wordless pleas, and before I knew it, we were skin-to-skin, no more barriers to overcome, emotional or otherwise.

I’d never been naked in front of a guy before. Well, aside from the bath incident at Achilles’s apartment, but even then, I’d been covered by bubbles. I knew I was scrawny, knew I’d never be the epitome of feminine beauty, thanks to my distinct lack of curves and buxomness. When his eyes roved over me, I was suddenly glad he’d taken out the contact lenses; it helped my confidence to see the way the honey-brown lit up at the sight of me naked.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he told me, forehead pressed against mine. And in that moment, I
felt
beautiful. His eyes gave away the truth in his words, warding off any hang-ups I might have about my body, about my lack of romantic skill. “Every inch of you is perfection, darling.”

“You can talk,” I whispered, running a hand over his bare chest, reveling in the ropes of hard muscle I found there. By his shoulder - the one I’d fixed, the first time we’d met - was a scar from the gunshot wound he’d sustained as a result.   

“Enough?” he asked.

I knew what he meant. “No.” I shook my head. “Not enough. I want all of you.”

With a half-growl, half-groan, he kissed me hard, his hands on my body, skillfully working me into some kind of frenzy. Never leaving my lips, he reached into the bedside table drawer. I heard a rip of foil, and thanked my lucky stars one of us was in control enough to remember protection.

When I thought I could take no more, and was about to beg for him to do
something
, he rocked into me with one thrust.

A pinch of pain froze me in place – expected – but then it subsided into something I’d never felt before – unexpected. Achilles went absolutely still, gritting his teeth as he looked over my face in concern. “I’m sorry, darling. It’ll be over soon, I swear.” He kissed me again, deep and tender, until I was distracted from the pain and something new blossomed deep within me. Something … incredible.

As if he understood what I was going through, he slowly moved his hips further against me.

“Again,” I gasped.

He obeyed, his movements a little deeper. This time, there was no pain, only pleasure. Unadulterated, mind-blowing pleasure that had nothing to do with my power.

Gradually we fell into a rhythm. My skin felt too tight for my body. Every breath of his mingled with mine. Every touch was electric, every movement pushed me a little further off the edge, until I suddenly came apart at the seams, crying out at the overload of sensation. Sunshine broke out of my hold and flowed right into his skin. I didn’t bother to try and stop it.

Suddenly Achilles followed me right over the edge, roaring my name into my shoulder. Happiness hit my every pore, flooding straight back from his system into mine.

And then everything stilled.

Slowly, tenderly, he disentangled himself from me, rolling onto his side once more. I smugly noticed that his chest was heaving, his eyes slightly unfocussed.

“I have no idea what you just did,” he panted, “but whatever it was, feel free to do it again sometime.”

“Uh huh” was all I could manage. I felt as though I’d just run a marathon – every inch of me was exhausted, but the sunshine I’d let loose numbed any residual pain I might have felt. Instead, there was just contentment.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, pulling the covers back over us. I couldn’t remember him ever kicking them off, but I suppose I’d been concentrating on better things.

“Tired, but good,” I answered. Then, naturally, self-consciousness snuck in. “Was that … okay?”

He smiled – yet another real smile. It was enough to kick-start feeling back into my chest. “You really couldn’t tell?”

A blush filled my face. “I guess so.”

“Oh, darling, I think we’re past shyness at this stage.” With a wink, he got up to clean himself, then returned in record time, pulling me tight against him under the heavy blankets. “You are a goddess.”

“I know,” I yawned, snuggling into his chest, reveling in the warmth I found there. His laugh resounded under my ear. When his slight stubble rubbed against my forehead, I worked up the energy to ask, “Shouldn’t you put your paint back on?”

“Probably.” His arms tightened around me, contrary to his words. “Maybe when I can feel my legs again.”

Good to know I wasn’t the only one experiencing that sensation.

His fingers stroked through my hair, a cocoon of happiness encasing the pair of us. “Achilles?”

“Yeah?” He sounded on the brink of sleep, same as me.

“Are we a thing now?”

Another throaty chuckle. “We were always a thing, darling. Just took both of us a while to see it.”

Chapter Eighteen

Leveling the Playing Field

When I woke, it was to an insistent knocking on wood somewhere. I buried myself further under the covers, into the hard wall of warmth at my back. Whatever this dream was, I liked it.

“Boss?” called out a voice. An unfamiliar, masculine voice.

Suddenly something stirred behind me. And slowly, like mist burning under the sun, my surroundings bled into comprehension. Specifically, the mass of hot flesh curled around me, and the memory of what happened last night. As if he could pick up on the frantic beat of my heart, the panic in my gut, those lean arms encased me tighter.

“Morning,” rumbled a not so unfamiliar, male voice. “Not freaking out on me are you, darling?”

“No,” I squeaked.

“Boss?” asked the voice outside the door once more.

“Yeah, yeah,” called Achilles. “Give me a minute.” Rolling me over towards him, those piercing eyes searched my face. Once more I was struck by his foreign appearance, the lack of paint displaying every inch of skin the rest of the world missed out on. “Regrets?”

I shook my head, keeping the sheet close to my chest to cover my prone form. “I keep expecting you to tell me this has all been a joke, or part of your dastardly plan for world domination.”

“Ah.” He gave me space, but the devilish smile playing on his lips told me he wasn’t planning on giving it for long. “You’ve foiled my schemes, you meddling kid! Little did you know your innocence was the only thing stopping me from conquering the entire world!” With a mock evil laugh that was slightly too convincing for my tastes, he flipped me onto his front, my hips straddling his. Scooting backwards, we came to a sitting position, the sheet still wrapped around my torso protectively.

His eyes softened. “No jokes, no endgame, no ulterior motives. Just me and you against the world. I can’t promise I’ll cancel those world domination plans,” he added with a smirk, “but you should know you’ll never be part of them. Unless, of course, you’d like to be my evil sidekick.”

“Honey, I’m no one’s sidekick,” I said with a grin. He immediately kissed it, the action wholly natural.

Suddenly the door behind us opened. “Boss? I got some news –”

Achilles moved faster than I’d ever seen. One moment he was beneath me, the next he was pinning me flat to the mattress, and I felt his hand flick out towards the door. Peeking under his arm, I saw a knife firmly lodged in the doorframe, right beside the intruder’s head.

“Out,” he growled at the thug. The door snapped shut instantly.

“I thought you were a hand-to-hand type of guy” was the only response I was fit to give.

Smirk. “Doesn’t mean I’m not prepared for long-range.” A sigh of frustration, then he rolled from the bed, pulling on a pair of boxers as he went. “I hate the real world.”

I waited until he’d disappeared into the bathroom to hastily grab a T-shirt and track-pants from his wardrobe, pull them on, and be sitting in the middle of the bed once more by the time he returned. On sighting me, I saw his eyes flash hungrily, even from across the room.

“When I saw you in my clothes the day you moved into my quarters, I knew I was a goner. No one had ever had an advantage over me before, but you – a seemingly harmless waif of a girl – blindsided me completely.” He stalked towards me, crawled across the bed to lean over me, the look on his face reigniting the heat in my blood. Before I knew it, his teeth nipped at my lips. “Care to help me with my paint?”

I blinked, the change of subject catching me off guard. The heat didn’t die down, but I did find myself smiling at the request. “I’d love to.”

It was an odd privilege, watching Achilles apply his face paint. I was both honored that he’d trust me enough to let me witness the act, and a little terrified knowing that now I was in his circle, I could never get out. By showing me his true face, he’d effectively decided my fate for me; if I was ever caught by one of his enemies or the police, they would wring details of his appearance out of me, not to mention his location, habits, weaknesses. I was the one chink in his chain, and I’m sure he was well aware of it.

While I was caught up in my paranoia, he painted the finishing details on his cheekbones and inserted his black contact lenses, the color drowning out all expression from his face.

“When was the last time someone saw your real face?” I asked.

He thought about it. “Ten years, give or take, I’d say. I pull it out occasionally to blend in – like at the Halloween party – but it’s been a while since someone has known me for me, instead of me for Achilles.” Flicking the paintbrush over his shoulder with a flourish, he passed me a towel and kissed me hard enough to make my toes curl. “Have a shower, then we’ll go and pick your stuff up from Lucia’s house.”

I all but rac
ed into the shower, eager to feel clean of all the makeup and lingering aches of last night.
Ten years
, he’d said. A whole decade since anyone had known the personality behind those beautiful eyes, since anyone had seen beyond the face to the man inside. Ten years since he would’ve had a proper conversation with anyone, a proper
relationship
with anyone. After all, you couldn’t have a relationship with a man that didn’t exist.

It might have been selfish of me, but I was glad to be the first girl to break through to Henry Westwood.

“Flick?” the man in question called from the hallway outside the bedroom. “I think this might interest you.”

Frowning, I pulled on his clothes once more and followed his voice. He stood outside with two thugs, both of whom were looking rather sorry to be there.

“What’s up?”

The happy vibes coating Achilles should have tipped me off. “Your biggest fan was hospitalized this morning.”

“W-what? Finn?” Dread hit me like a punch to the gut. “What happened?” I directed the question to the thugs, knowing Achilles would just blow it off.

They both exchanged a glance with Achilles, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Approval gained, one of them answered, “Attempted suicide, or so we hear. Stepped off the edge of a building in the city center, and broke both his legs.”

The mental image painted was enough to have my knees buckling. Achilles hoisted me up, his previous smile replaced with a deep frown. “Not your problem, darling. I always knew him being so stuck-up would end in disaster.”

“Like hell it isn’t my problem!” All kinds of horrible memories and feelings swelled in my chest, impervious even to the warmth of Achilles’s fingers wrapped around my arm. “Why? Why did he jump?”

“Nobody knows,” replied one of the men with a shrug. “Pretty sketchy, though, seeing as he could’ve teleported on the way down if he really wanted to.”

Breathing became difficult all at once. This was my fault.
My fault
. I’d given him a huge hit of sunshine and now he was going the same way as Xavier. I’d thought Finn immune to the effects because he was always so optimistic, and naturally happy, and a pillar of strength to the whole city. Plus, it had been weeks since I’d helped him out. Were the effects that long-lasting?

“Flick?” Achilles’s eyes searched my face, but I hardly noticed the world around me. I was too busy trying to gulp in air through the panic lodged in my throat.

“It was me,” I rasped. “I gave him a hit at his house
, the day he took me
. A big hit!
That’s what he was talking about at the Halloween party.
”

Despite the black coating to his eyes, I could
see
the cogs fitting into place in Achilles’s mind. “Shit.
Shit.
” He ran his free hand through his hair, then turned to his two employees. “Get us a car. We need to go to the hospital.”

“What?” said all three of us at once.

“I’m not risking anything” was his enigmatic answer.

The two thugs disappeared. I sunk against the wall, the need to collapse within myself clawing at my gut. This was too much. I had all but murdered the hero of Carova, the brightest star this city had at its disposal.