Night Whispers: ShadowLands, Book 1 (30 page)

“What else can you do?” His voice was hoarse.

“Other than that, so far I’ve discovered I can see pretty well in the dark. But who knows? Maybe I’ll get sick again and wake up with more powers, or die. Maybe my eyes will turn silver tomorrow.”

“My God.”

She dared to look up at him. His eyes were glassy. “I know it’s a shock.”

He was looking at her as if he’d never seen her before. “This is crazy.”

“I know.”

“My girlfriend’s a superhero,” he whispered.

She stared at him, not sure if she should laugh in relief or cry in frustration.

Also…she was his girlfriend?

Dwell on that later.
“I
knew
that would be your first reaction.”

“Because it’s true.” He stepped up and took her in his arms again. “Holy crap. This is… Holy crap. Where did they…?”

“Left arm.”

He shifted and examined her upper arm, easily finding the small bump where she’d been injected. His fingers feathered over it. She let him examine her wound quietly, the whole while pondering what he was thinking. He was a smart man. He’d work the implications out.

“Do you feel…any different now? Like Erik. You said his eating habits have changed since he was drugged up.”

What a tactful way of saying the guy drank blood. “No. I’m not craving blood. I’m also not having any problems with the sun.”

“That’s good, right?” He leaned down and kissed the injection site. “Poor girl. Why didn’t you tell me about this right away?”

Jules closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of his lips on her skin. “I guess I was scared.”

“That I would run?”

“Or that you wouldn’t. How can I ask you to stay with me when I don’t even know what’s inside of me?”

The noise he made was half amused, half disbelieving. “Seriously? Nothing’s really changed. You’re still you. And it’ll take a hell of a lot more than some experimentation to scare me off. Not when I’ve worked this hard to find you.”

“But what if I die or turn in a week or a year? I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”

He shook his head. “Hey, what if you go out in the world and battle zombies and try to save humans who are terrified and might be holed up with guns? You could die or turn in a week or a year.”

She frowned. “It’s not the same at all.”

“You’re right. The other thing you’re doing by choice. Let me tell you, the only time I breathe easy when I’m tapped into you is when you’re behind walls somewhere, and even then I’m scared for you.” His arms tightened. “With the exception of my grandfather, every single person I loved died in some horrible, dangerous way. My dad was shot in combat. My mom died in the explosion at Raven. They died because of things that happened in their day-to-day life. It took me a while, but I finally get that now—you can’t live your life trying to avoid death because it can find you anywhere. So, me, I’m happy you aren’t dead. Even if your hair and eyes go completely silver tomorrow, and you have to drink blood like Erik, I’ll still be happy you aren’t dead.”

“And if I turn? If I attack you one day?”

“I’ll move heaven and earth to see that you don’t turn. And if you try to attack me, I’ll fight back. I’m in no hurry to die.”

“Will you be able to kill me? If it comes down to that?”

His eyes darkened. “I can’t promise that.”

“See? It’s hopeless.”

His mouth dropped open. “You are not seriously writing us off because I won’t
kill
you someday.”

“I have to. For your own safety.”

His scarred jaw tightened. “My own safety? Wait a minute. I think I get it now.”

“What?”

“What you’re doing. You’re lying.”

“Lying about what?”

“You say that you’re worried about me staying with you, not leaving you. That’s a lie. A flat-out lie.”

“I am—”

“Because no one’s ever stayed with you, have they?”

She flinched from the brutal words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. You do. I must have been so perfect for you, a long-distance person you could care for, but I couldn’t physically abandon you because I was never with you.”

“That’s not why I…care for you.”

“Maybe not now, but I’m betting the only reason you even let me in was because I was safe.”

“No.”

“Fine. But you can’t deny that you aren’t exactly surrounded by close friends and family.”

“Because the ones I had left me!” She clenched her teeth, but the words couldn’t be unsaid. Her hands were shaking.

“I know. You tell yourself you don’t need anyone else. That you’re independent and strong.”

“I am independent and strong.” She’d proved herself worthy of those adjectives, goddamn it.

“I know. But there’s nothing wrong with an independent and strong person needing someone else every now and again. That doesn’t weaken you.”

“You’re talking out of your ass.”

But he must have heard something in her voice, the voice he’d been listening to and studying for over a year, because he was like a bloodhound on the scent of a trail. “You have me. You know I won’t leave you. You know I’ll cross states and territories and I’ll fucking battle monsters just so I can stand by your side. But you’re so scared something will still happen and I’ll leave you one way or the other, so you’re responding by pushing me away first.”

She thought of that burning anger that had fueled her battle against the Shadow the night before. Her anger at James, specifically, though he had never abandoned her, not once.
She knew better than anyone how fickle love and loyalty could be. Even if he found her, there was no guarantee he would stand by her side forever.
“Shut. Up.”

“No. Not when you’re insisting on using that hero complex of yours to convince yourself that you’re saving me instead of killing us both. Fuck that, Guerrero.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Bennett. You aren’t my boss here.”

“I was never your boss. I was always your man.” He grabbed hold of her hips and yanked her close, his lips swooping down to capture hers. At the first touch of their flesh, the anger between them shifted to passion. He groaned, his lips and tongue devouring her.

They really shouldn’t do this right now.

Aw, fuck it. Jules responded, kissing him back, rubbing her tongue against his. This had been over a year in the making, and they both had some pent-up lust to release.

She pulled her head away, and her sweet, calm, intelligent partner growled. She had to press a hand against his chest to keep him from hauling her close again. “The bed.”

His pretty eyes were unfocused with lust.
I did that.
“In a minute. Here. Please.” He reached for her, and since she was having a tough time with higher mental reasoning, she allowed it.

With his lips attached to hers, she worked at the buttons on his shirt. He released her long enough to grasp the zipper on her vest and pull it down. His gaze slipped down, taking in every new inch of skin that was revealed, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

She shrugged out of her top and unsnapped her bra, tossing that aside as well. Naked to the waist, she shoved at his shirt, and he snapped out of his breast-induced stupor long enough to help her with the remaining buttons and slide it off.

The curtains in this room had rotted away. The afternoon sun poured through the window and streaked across his lean chest. She stopped moving, her fingers on the button of her fly, to watch him. He was muscular but lean, with no bulkiness or fat. He had the build of a distance runner, not a weight lifter. The burn scars covered his arm and shoulder, and part of his chest. They were particularly nasty over his arm and pecs.

He stood and let her look her fill, not flinching when she stroked her hand over his scarred chest. She met his gaze. “You’re so pretty.”

A smile lifted his generous lips. He should smile and smile often. He had a mouth made for it.

“Finish stripping,” she ordered.

“You’ve stopped.”

Her fingers fumbled with her jeans while he pulled off his shoes. The light highlighted the muscles of his thigh when he unbuttoned and kicked off his pants. She would probably be more successful at removing her own clothes if she wasn’t occupied with gawking at his body.

Jules willingly relinquished the depantsing task to him, grateful that he was able to get her trousers and panties off in one fell swoop.

He was transfixed, staring at her body in the same way she’d studied his, with complete absorption and delight. “One day, when we have the time,” he said softly, “I am going to lay you down on a bed and stare at your body for hours.”

“Only if I get to do the same,” she managed.

Without giving her an inkling of his next action, he bent down and captured the tip of her nipple, sucking it strongly, the lining of his mouth rubbing against the hardened nub.

She arched her body up to him, and he took advantage to spin her around and push her back to the bed, not moving his lips away from her breast. When she lay below him, the lumpy mattress cradling her, he switched to her other nipple, pulling that in and sucking it so hard her back bowed.

He drew away, leaving the nubs aching and wet in the musty room. She reached for his head, digging her hands in to bring him back to her breasts.

The second she touched his hair, his hands grabbed hers and pushed them to the mattress as he came up above her. For some reason, the slight restraint only made her more aroused, the ache between her legs demanding and eager for that thick hardness she could feel hot and heavy against her inner leg.

A look of concentration crossed his face, and he breathed deeply, holding himself still. His attempt to rein in his basic needs was practically tangible.

That won’t do.
She obeyed the instincts screaming in her head. She arched up, using her own body to tempt his, scraping her nipples against the crinkly hair on his chest, rubbing her foot on his calf.

He lasted about a second before he kneed her legs apart. “Can’t wait,” he gasped.

“Don’t want you to.”

Her words were all he needed. He settled between her legs, releasing her arm long enough to guide himself to her and thrust inside.

Their shouts mingled together, his with delight, hers with pain. He stopped and levered himself up on shaky arms to look down at her. “Okay?”

She licked her lips, hoping that the too-stretched feeling between her legs would disappear. “It’s been a while. Give me a minute, I’ll get better.”

“God, you feel like a virgin.”

“No. No, I definitely got rid of that in the back of Bubba’s car when I was fourteen.”

His laugh was choked. “Where on Earth did you find someone named Bubba?”

“My whole life was about rebelling back then. Having sex with some transplanted white Southern boy seemed like the thing to do.”

His hips moved imperceptibly. “How long is a while, exactly?”

Sad that she had to count. “Three years? Since before the epidemic started, I guess.”

He rested on his elbows, as if he was settling in to wait her out. “It’s been longer for me.”

She arched a brow. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” A smile crossed his face. The sun was reddish-orange, burnishing his skin. “I was busy with work before. Things were going crazy in the intelligence community. And then came the Illness and the attacks and I never found anyone particularly amazing until I met you. And then after you…there was only you.”

Oh. Oh my.

As God as her witness, knowing that he’d been celibate for a long time was wildly sexy. That he’d waited years for her. She wanted to stick her flag on James’s ass. She tried to hide her uncivilized thoughts.

The stretched feeling was fading. She shifted beneath him. He sank inside her another inch and groaned, his face softening in bliss.

His pleasure increased her own, a different kind of ache starting where they were joined. She opened her legs wider, planting her feet on the bed. The change in position drove him even deeper.

“Move,” she ordered.

He obeyed, pulling out and thrusting back in. They both gasped. He stilled. “Am I hurting you?”

She sank her hands into that gorgeous brown hair. “No. Do it again.”

He did.

“Again.”

Another thrust.

Sweat was pouring off both of their bodies, fusing their skin. She lifted her hips to his—and he was lost. With a low growl, he braced his arms on either side of her head and hammered hard, in and out, stilling the motions of her body with his own. She turned her head and kissed his arm, right on top of the puckered burn tissue.

They writhed together, the bed beneath her as hot as his body was on top of her, in her. She was so close, so close…

Desperate, she tried to get herself off as best as she knew how, inserting her hand between them to press her clit. He growled and knocked her hand aside, replacing it with his own fingers. Though his hand wasn’t as sure as hers would be, the novelty of having this man’s hand rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts was enough to send her over the edge. Just as she tightened around him, he let go to lean down and set his teeth against her nipple. The slight bite of pain gave her something to focus on when she came. At the last second, she remembered they weren’t alone in the house and swallowed back her cries of pleasure.