Hunting Medusa: The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1 (6 page)

Andi panted, her stance widening of its own volition.

Kallan palmed her sex, and she moaned, trying hard not to rock her hips into the caress.

He tugged the lace aside and plunged one finger right into her core, and she couldn’t help but lift her hips into the thrust.

“Andrea?”

She realized she’d closed her eyes and forced them open, finding him even closer now, his heat reaching out to envelop her, almost like an actual embrace.

“Touch me.”

The command was impossible to resist. She uncurled her fingers and moved her hand across the scant inches between them to wrap them around the solid length of him. He grunted, his eyes sliding shut for a second, then he met her gaze again and slid a second finger deep inside her.

Andi whimpered, her grip tightening on him.

“Yes?” he breathed, bending nearer.

Her body arched into his next caress without her permission. And the next. The pleasure and tension coiled tight in her belly, shocking her with the intensity and speed.

He kissed her lightly, his hard fingers finding all the right spots to make her desire rush right up to the edge of the precipice, and then he kept her there.

She tried shifting her hips, but his fingers shifted too. She stroked him harder, feeling his hips jerk into her touch, then fumbled with his cargo pants to release his flesh into her hand.

He made a low rumbling sound when her fingers wrapped around his erection, then shifted so her back was to the wall, tugging her shirt up so he could get his hand inside her bra to her bare breast.

She moaned, her body taut with need.

He teased her, sliding his fingers deep, then lightly caressing her clit, his hips rocking into her strokes too. He knew this wasn’t a good idea. He’d been certain he could resist it. Resist her. Resist himself. But there was no resisting this.

“Bed,” he whispered against her mouth. “We should be in a bed.” He rubbed his thumb over her clit, making her whimper into his kiss.

When he thrust his fingers hard into her, she flew apart.

He lifted his head to watch this time, the flush rising from the top of her shirt to the roots of her hair, the deep rose color of the nipple he’d freed from her bra, and the slick evidence of her desire on his fingers with each thrust and retreat. He nipped at her lower lip, then sucked it into his mouth to soothe the sting.

Her fingers on his own flesh were hot, nearly as hot as his erection felt. His hips rocked into each stroke of her fingers, and he knew his own release was only moments away.

Andrea’s eyes opened slowly. “Come inside me,” she whispered. “Please.”

He released her breast to shove his pants down far enough, then tore her panties, dropped the ripped lace somewhere behind him, and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he slid easily into her body, deep, deeper. Around him, her flesh still spasmed.
So good.

He groaned, dropping his head back for a moment to try to gather some strength. “Andrea.” He met her gaze. “Hard or slow?”

More color washed up her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “Hard.”

His body tightened. “As you wish.” He slid one hand beneath the soft curve of her bottom, lifting her nearer, and wedged the other between their bodies so he could slide his thumb over her clit.

Her breath caught in her throat, but she still watched him, her eyes bright with desire.

He eased his hips backward—slowly, slowly, till only the tip of his cock was still inside her scalding heat. Then thrust hard, deep.

She cried out.

He repeated the movements, over and over, feeling her body arching into his strokes, her sheath tightening on him, pulsing, burning him until he could no longer resist his own need. When his release thundered through him, he felt her orgasm bloom as well, heard her faint scream. Felt his heart pounding hard against her breast. Her nails biting into his shoulders. Her mouth sliding over his jaw.

He shut his eyes and gathered her close, hoping his legs would continue to hold them up.

When Andrea’s mouth touched the corner of his, he turned his head far enough to capture her lips, feeling a last surge of heat rush through him when their tongues met, stroked.

It took a long time for his lungs to slow their wicked pace, for his heart to ease back into a normal rhythm. Equally as long for hers to do the same. He smiled against her mouth. It had been a long time since he’d been so desperate for a woman.

His smile faded. And a very bad time for his libido to kick in, with his quarry as the target of his desire.

As if she’d finally realized their positions, Andrea stiffened in his arms.

Reluctantly, he eased his hips backward—gritting his teeth against the need to stay inside her warmth—then set her on her feet. “Are you all right?”

“I think we’re both sick,” she muttered, sliding away from him along the wall.

Kallan tugged his pants back up, wincing, and kept an eye on her.

But she just grabbed her own jeans, then stood at the sink, holding them in front of her and looking at her torn panties two feet away.

He felt a surge of satisfaction as he recalled the need that had been coursing through them both when he’d ripped her panties off.

And a twinge of guilt at giving in to the desire with his enemy.

“I’ll grab you another pair of underwear,” he murmured, noting the faint flash of relief crossing her face. Something ached in his chest.

When he left the room, he heard the sink come on, and imagined her washing. His body jerked as if in preparation, but he tamped down the idea of more. Once was bad enough. At least he knew the Medusas couldn’t get pregnant, and—if she had really been without a man all this time—it didn’t matter that he had no condoms. He tugged open two dresser drawers before finding her underwear, and blindly grabbed something that turned out to be a shocking pink thong. It didn’t matter. He made it back into the bathroom in time to see her drying her inner thighs.

Hot color washed up her throat to her face, and she avoided his eyes as she took the panties.

He knew he should look away, but he couldn’t help himself, watching her pull the thong up and on, then the jeans she yanked up, hiding those beautiful legs. And more intimate places.

She sat on the toilet lid, head bowed, and he washed himself while keeping an eye on her. She may attempt an escape, after all.

But she sat quietly until he finished. When he turned to her, he debated pulling the handcuffs from his pocket.

“We can’t do that again,” she said at last, lifting her head.

He raised one eyebrow. “Really?”

“I accused you last night of being sick, but maybe we both are.” She looked away for a second. “I have a perfectly good vibrator for this, and sleeping with the man who’s come to kill me is all kinds of stupid.”

He pondered her words for a moment. “I don’t think you’re stupid, Andrea.”

A humorless laugh passed her lips. “Right. It doesn’t matter. Either you’ll kill me before my PMS starts, or I’ll kill you when it does. But anything like this between us is foolish.” She rubbed one palm on her knee. “At least you know what to expect.”

He frowned at that odd statement but let it go. “I think you know I can’t kill you before I get the amulet, Andrea.”

Her cheeks went chalk-white, and she averted her eyes.

“And I can’t take it in the way you’re imagining.” He sighed. “I need to think about this a little longer. Dig a bit more into the myths.”

“You won’t find anything about the cup there. Not about how to take it.” Her tone was more confident now, and her blue gaze met his again. “If I’m not mistaken, I’m the first of the Medusas unlucky enough to have survived her first encounter with a Harvester, long enough for the Harvester to discover the secret of the fabled Medusa’s Goblet.” She held his gaze for a moment. “And if you don’t kill me without trying to take the cup, you will die when my PMS hits.”

“Well, that will be bad for me, won’t it?” he said lightly. “Come, let’s go downstairs. I need to do some reading.” He offered his hand to her, holding his breath all the while.

She eyed his fingers for a long time before she finally put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

He curled his fingers around hers and towed her along the hall to the stairs. It was a dilemma, to be sure.
Goddess, help me
, he thought.

He dug through the same archives he’d dug through during the night, hoping his tired brain had missed something. Anything.

It hadn’t.

While he skimmed obscure texts and more modern lore, Andrea sat at the table, an open book in front of her. Kallan knew she wasn’t reading though. She hadn’t turned a page in more than half an hour, instead staring down at the book blankly.

He debated emailing one of his cousins about the problem, but he didn’t want anyone to know he had found the Medusa. Or worse, that he hadn’t yet killed her.

Goddess, he’d never find the solution this way.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Her head shot up, blue eyes wide. “You think you can keep up with me?” she asked after a second.

He smiled. “I didn’t say you’d be walking freely.”

Her mouth flattened when he pulled the handcuffs out of his pocket.

To his surprise, she didn’t say anything when he bound them together again, just averted her face.

He led the way out of the house, pausing on the front porch to survey the surrounding area. “This way.” He strode toward the pathway just visible to the rear of her car. Into the forest.

Andrea kept up with him easily as he climbed over fallen trees and rocks in their way. It would have been simpler, perhaps, if he hadn’t handcuffed her to himself, but in addition to keeping her with him, this way she was occasionally forced to accept his assistance, which he enjoyed.

Perhaps he
was
a sick bastard, he mused, slowing his pace as they went deeper into the woods and the trail narrowed. Realizing the woman he wanted most was his enemy had just turned his world upside-down. His family’s enemy, a monster created by the Goddess.

He frowned up at the dark canopy of leaves above them. He wondered if any other Harvester had ever been tempted by his quarry. Or had surrendered to the temptation. If so, he was certain he’d never find
that
in the lore.

“Wait.”

He stopped walking at her quiet command, his gaze shifting in the same direction she looked. A doe and her fawn looked poised for flight several yards away, the mother watching them closely. Kallan held his breath as the fawn bent back to the small patch of grass. From the corner of his eye, he saw Andrea’s smile. He caught her hand in his without thinking about it first.

Her fingers were stiff in his for a long moment, then relaxed a little.

He turned to look down at her, studying her. The top of her head reached his chin, her dark hair curling in the slight humidity. Her bright gaze stayed fixed on the deer, but he knew she was aware of him by the way her pulse skittered in the hollow of her throat.

“Did I hurt you?” He kept his tone low, trying not to frighten the nearby animals.

She didn’t move anything but her eyes, shifting her questioning gaze up to his face.

“Earlier. Was I too rough?”

Color washed up her cheeks, and she swallowed, turning her attention back to the doe and her fawn. “No.” It was barely a whisper, her reply.

His heart pounded a little harder as he thought about taking her here, right here in her forest. It was foolish. He couldn’t. She would never agree to it anyway.

But he couldn’t stop the images behind his eyes, not now that he knew what she looked like, what she felt like around him, the way she sounded.

When she turned to look up at him again, he realized he’d tightened his grip on her fingers. Her expression was quizzical, then awareness surfaced, turning her eyes darker, like midnight velvet.

Kallan lifted their joined hands slowly, giving her time to stop him. When she didn’t, he dragged his open mouth along her knuckles.

Her lips parted slightly.

He bit one of her knuckles lightly and felt her shiver. “Maybe I am sick,” he breathed. “But I still want you.”

She shut her eyes, her throat working as she swallowed. “Bad idea, Harvester.”

His jaw tightened. For some reason, hearing her use the name his family had claimed many generations ago made him angry. He wanted to hear her use his name instead. Preferably while they were naked in her bed, bodies joined intimately as they had been earlier.

Instead of protesting, though, he nibbled his way down her finger until he could capture the tip in his teeth, then sucked it into his mouth.

Her breath came faster.

Kallan slid his tongue along the side of her finger, feeling her shudder. “Are you wet yet?”

A squeak passed her lips.

He smiled around her flesh and sucked. Her nipples pressed tight against her shirt, and his mouth watered.

The doe had apparently had enough of their intrusion and took flight, leaping into the trees with her fawn on her heels. The sudden movement startled them both, and Andrea tugged her hand free of his lips, blushing.