Hyde, an Urban Fantasy (39 page)

“No, not tough. Just—” He ran a hand through his hair and tried to bring her smile back. “Stamina? I’d like to think that’s all me. But, honestly, I’ve never thought about it. Or had this many opportunities to test it.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“Me too.” He flipped over, rolling her onto her back. “Is it my turn now?” He kissed her neck and then dragged his tongue to her breast.

“Your turn for what?”

“You’ve been bossy for a day and a half, when do I get a turn?”
Not that I minded, of course.
His tease turned flat with a nervous twitch of her body. He stopped and looked at her.

Holding his eyes, she stretched out each arm, then each leg. “Give it your best shot, boss.”

Holy shit. She had no idea what she’d just asked for. Free rein? Hmm . . . Where should he start?

His lips returned to her breast, his tongue tasting her taut nipple, cupping her fullness and bringing it into his mouth. The arch of her back making his job even easier. He took his time, listening to her light moans as he worked his way down her flat belly with his hands, then his mouth.

Running his teeth along her hip bone and kissing the hollow in between it and her belly button, he wrapped his hands around her and lifted her ass. Then he ran his palms down the back of her thighs, spreading her legs in front of him.

Glancing up to check on her, he saw her wide brown eyes and open mouth. “This too bossy?” he asked.

She shook her head so hard, her entire body moved with it.

Back to work. No, hobby.
Yeah, this was the world’s best hobby. He kissed the inside of her thigh, moving slowly upwards to where it met her center, pausing to admire her beauty. Considering how beautiful she was, how could this part of her be even more so?

When he touched her, she shivered. Then moaned. Another stroke. Another moan.
Amazing
. He could control her passion so simply. And she let him.
Fucking amazing.
As he parted her, he realized the discomfort he felt was his cock pressing into the bed like a hammer. Didn’t matter.
She
mattered.

Her body jerked when he brought his tongue to her. He’d been gentle, he
knew
he’d been gentle. Because he was trying so fucking hard not to shove his face closer and lap her like a man dying of thirst at first sight of water.
Try harder, asshole.
He tried.

Her taste was like a condensed version of her, leaving him aching for more. Using his finger and his mouth, he was moaning along with her. He pressed a hand to her belly to keep her still and stroked her harder, sliding inside her, bringing more of her wetness to him.

Her hands were in his hair, pressing him deeper. “This too bossy?” She laughed, her voice breathless.

He didn’t respond, not wanting to take his mouth off her, glad to feel it didn’t matter to her as she pushed him closer. He clutched her hip as her body started to jerk against him. Damn it, he didn’t want her to finish too soon. Then he’d have to stop. At least for a second. Then he’d get to start again. Yeah, that’d do.

He worked her harder, feeling her muscles clench under his tongue and fingers. She felt no shame in the volume of her cries. He used their rhythm to push her over the edge, bringing out one last prayer of thanks from her. Her fingers tugged his hair painfully and he smiled, not stopping his tongue until her legs went limp, their only movement a steady shiver.

He tossed a blanket over her, not wanting to cover her beautiful body, but wanting to protect her from everything, even the air around them. He kept his other hand on her, lightly stroking, until her legs stopped twitching.

Best hobby ever.

§         
§          §

“Mitch, your phone.” She shook him slightly. “It’s been going off forever.”

He ran a hand over his eyes and looked at the clock: 11:00. Did that mean a.m. or p.m.? Light peeked through the drapes. Oh, a.m. Sunday or Monday? Who the hell knew?

She kissed him, catching his lower lip in her teeth and tugging gently.

“Good morning,” he mumbled.

“Someone really wants to talk to you. They’ve been calling non-stop.”

When the phone started ringing again, he leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed it. “Why didn’t I turn this thing off?”

She shrugged and dragged her body away from his.

He blinked at the caller ID. Jolie. Yeah, he had to answer. It was better than her deciding to stop by and check up on him.

“Hey, Jolie. How ya doing?” He pulled the phone away from his head when she started yelling.

“Where have you been? I have been calling you every half an hour for . . . days!”

“I told you to cancel my appointments.”

“That was three days ago! You said you would be back today. What is going on, Mitchell? Are you alright?”

“I’m very sick.”

Eden laughed, covering her mouth when he put a finger to his lips to shush her.

“You’d better be dying,” Jolie said. “No, scratch that. You better get healthy quick. If you cancel on Sprite, you won’t only lose them, you’ll lose every speaking engagement at every one of their offices. They do not understand the concept of sick days.” She took a breath. “Are you really sick?”

He coughed lamely, and then shot a warning glance to Eden who seemed to find this funny. “Very.” Damn it, he had to return to real life. It had taken him a long time to find a profession in which people would pay him to be an asshole. And now more than ever—because of the girl naked and smiling in front of him—he needed to have an outlet for his evil. He’d need to be twice the asshole at work so he could come home to her. Hell, maybe he should increase his fees. Twice the asshole, twice the price.

“Do you want me to come over?” Jolie asked.

“No!” He sniffled. “No, I’ll be okay. One more day. That’ll be enough.”

Eden crawled across the bed on her hands and knees, mischief in her eyes, ignoring the shaking of his head.

“Have you taken any cold medicine? I could bring you something to make you feel better.”

“I have what I need here. Thanks.” Fake cough. Hand not fast enough to stop Eden from sliding her lips around his cock. Okay, they probably could have been faster, if he’d tried a little harder. When her tongue flicked out, he moaned.

“What’s wrong?” Jolie’s voice.

“Oh.”
Damn it.
“I think I’m gonna be sick. Don’t come over. Don’t want you to get sick too.” He pressed ‘end’ just as Eden wrapped her hand around the base of his erection. Running his hand through her hair and tossing the phone on the floor, he said, “You are in so much trouble.” Thirty seconds later, he’d forgotten why.

Damn her. It should be me. Screw this. Times up, slut.

§          §          §

Another nap. Another shower. They’d barely made it to the almost-empty box of condoms the last time.

He looked incredible, splayed out on his back, his breathing calm while he slept. Wanting to touch him continually, but knowing he needed the sleep, Eden settled for resting her head on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart.

She wondered if what they were doing was normal. But then, did it really matter? Worst case she was incredibly lucky. Best case, she was still incredibly lucky. Every muscle was sore, along with many parts she didn’t think were made from muscle. But the soreness just reminded her of what he’d done to make her feel that way, so she wasn’t complaining. Her body had been vibrating for days, ready for more of what he gave her. Which was far more than she could have imagined. He was like a perfect gift, one that kept giving and giving.

He yawned, scratching his growing beard. It looked good on him. Everything looked good on him.
Nothing
on him was better.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, his voice gravely. “I’m guessing I have, like, two more hours until you’ve killed me.”

“I’ve come to a decision.”

He raised his head and an eyebrow, instantly alert. “I don’t like it when you do that. Makes me nervous.”

“You realize by admitting that, you’ve just quadrupled the likelihood of it happening again, right?” She laughed and snuggled closer.

“I do now. So are you going to tell me or draw my agony out for the last two hours of my life?”

“This”—she put her hand to the side of his neck—“is my favorite part of your body.”

He laughed. “That? Why?”

“Because that’s what tells me when your heart is racing. And these”—she pointed to his eyes—“let me know it’s because of me. What about you?”

“My favorite part?” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

She knocked on his chest with her fist. “Still waiting here. And it better be good.”

He chuckled. The backs of his fingers brushed along her hip, to the small hollow between the bone and her belly button, sending a shiver through her. “I’m a big fan of this one.” His hand moved lower, two fingers caressing her core. “And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention this, of course.”

“Of course,” she said, her back arching slightly, disappointed when his hand moved away.

“But my absolute favorite is a toss-up. Between this”—he touched her chest, her heart—“and this.” His finger poked her right in the middle of the forehead.

“You’re smooth, my man. Very smooth.”

“I am, aren’t I? A talent I never knew I had.” He laughed and rolled on top of her, his body hard and strong, yet giving and accepting of hers.

She knew he was ready . . . again. She felt his erection pushing between her legs. But
he
wasn’t pushing. She’d seen him struggle with keeping control since they began this journey and adored him for it. With a look into his eyes, she knew what he was thinking, saw herself reflected there. And it helped her see her own worth. Up until recently, he’d been an impossible sell—constantly pushing her away, belittling her. But no more. And he wasn’t lying anymore. When Mitch looked at her like that, she knew it was true—he was as smitten as she was.

For right now.
She sighed.

All that would end once they put their clothes back on, layering themselves to keep distance from the world. And each other. It hurt to think of. She didn’t want to live without his skin on hers. Maybe it couldn’t last, maybe this
wasn’t
normal. When would he start closing himself off to her? Would it be little-by-little like a slow death? No, not with Mitch. With Mitch, it would be fast. He wouldn’t feel a thing.

Holding back a sob, she held him tighter and kissed him deeply enough to stop her lip from trembling.

§         
§          §

Mitch let the water pound on his shoulders, glad to be free of his sweat, less happy her scent had to go with it. He’d left her sleeping soundly, mouth hanging slightly open. Oddly adorable. Of course, for all he knew he snored like a pirate—he’d never thought to ask anyone. Never really let anyone stay the night either.

Until Eden, Jolie was probably the only one to see him asleep and before her, only his sister. But the few minutes of rest he had before Hyde awoke wasn’t the same, now was it.

§         
§          §

Eden didn’t want this to end, but as the light coming through the window turned from white to blue, she knew her four days of reprieve had ended. And with it,
him
. That’s why she’d felt the need to claim him, draw his attention back to where it should stay, during the call from Jolie. But it had been a metaphorical wake-up call as well as a literal one. She’d asked for one experience, and he’d given her days. Her and Mitch’s time together was running out.