Possess Me Please (13 page)

“To protect you.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

“And because I missed you.”

He leaned in, then, to kiss Isabelle. It wasn’t an urgent, rip-her-clothes-off kind of kiss. It was a kiss that said more than that. A kiss of longing, of need, of…love?

She could barely breathe when his lips left hers. Isabelle wanted to pull him back to her, press herself against his warmth, and lose herself in the feel of him. But she resisted the urge…barely.

“I missed you too,” she murmured.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “You have the brightest, strongest soul I’ve ever seen, Izzy.”

She smiled. “I bet you say that to all the souls.”

“Really, Izzy, it’s actually a little eerie,” he admitted. “Honestly, I’ve never seen another human soul like yours.”

She frowned. “Well, maybe that’s why I can let spirits into my body and live to tell about it.”

“Maybe,” was all he said.

Hmmm.
There was something he wasn’t telling her. If she was being honest with herself, there were probably a lot of things he wasn’t telling her. But she was exhausted after the fight with Stephen, and all she wanted to do at that moment was take a two-day-long nap.

Cyrus followed her into the bedroom. She wanted him to hold her, but if she let him crawl into bed with her, they’d end up doing more than cuddling.

Isabelle wasn’t sure she was ready for that again quite yet. He had a new body. He was a demon. He had lied to her. She couldn’t deny that she still wanted him, but it was too much, too soon.

It figures you’d have to fall for a demon.

Fall? Had she?

“You’ll be safe,” Cyrus told her. “I promise. I’m staying right here, and Stephen won’t be strong enough to have another go at you for at least a couple of days. Rest easy.”

* * * *

Isabelle gave Cyrus a weak smile and climbed into her bed. He tucked the covers around her like a fussy mother might a sick child, and kissed her on the forehead. He wanted to stay, to take her in his arms, to make love to her, but it was too soon. He had a different face, a different body, and now she knew he was a demon. He wouldn’t rush the woman he…loved?

He had never loved a woman before. Was this what it felt like to be in love—filled with an overwhelming rage to kill anything that threatened her, with the need to protect her, the desire to please her, to make her happy? What about the ache in his heart at the thought of losing her?

Cyrus sat beside Izzy until she drifted to sleep, then eased off the bed, careful not to wake her, and made his way to the kitchen. He rummaged through several drawers before finding what he was looking for. Her address book. While most people kept contacts in a cell phone nowadays, he figured she’d still keep an old-fashioned book for her business.

He snorted.
If one could call possession a business.

Cyrus hung the phone up after talking to Izzy’s friend. The woman was highly protective of Izzy and had been reluctant to talk to him until he informed her of the danger her friend was in. Nina had access to everything he wanted, and she had agreed to meet him at Izzy’s in two days. Until then, he and Izzy were going to enjoy some uninterrupted time together.

Whatever it took to get her trust back, he’d do it. It wouldn’t be easy after walking out on her and lying to her—even if it was only a lie by omission. Women tended not to place importance on certain types of lies over others. A lie was a lie. Period.

She didn’t seem to be repulsed by his new body. He at least had that going for him. If he had to be murdered, he was thankful it had been by someone decent looking. All this was nothing new to him. Nothing he hadn’t been doing for more years than he could count. But Izzy? Any human would have a difficult time wrapping his or her mind around the circumstances of his existence, even one as remarkable as Izzy.

Chapter Eleven

“Next time I’m going to get you, Issssabelllle, and I’ll make you suffer.”

Stephen’s whispers crawled through her mind like worms digging their way into soft soil after a light rain. Suddenly, he was there in front of her, his black and red soul pulsing as if it had a heartbeat.

Isabelle fled, but Stephen chased her. Sweat beaded her upper lip, her breaths shallow and fast, and her heart fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird. She ran and ran, but it was no use. He swooped in and wrapped himself around her, suffocating her, killing her.

She clawed and screamed, fought to get away until she was overcome with exhaustion. He was too strong. She was dying.

She lay quietly, ready to give up, when another voice floated through her mind. It calmed her. It gave her strength.

Cyrus.

Isabelle gathered her energy, let it out in one final burst, and renewed her fight against Stephen.

This time he was the one to shriek. Only he screamed in frustration, not pain as she had.

Suddenly, he was gone, and she was rocking in a gentle breeze.

* * * *

Cyrus had been trying to find something to fix to eat when Izzy’s scream ripped through the house. He ran to her room and found her tossing and turning, with the blankets in a tangled mess around her. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were clenched in tight fists.

He dragged her to him and held her, but she cried out and shrank away from his touch.

He held her tighter and caressed her hair with his fingertips. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re having a bad dream.” He rocked back and forth, trying to soothe her. Her skin was chilled, and he pulled up the blanket around her shoulders. She began to calm and finally opened her eyes. “Hey, welcome back.”

She blinked up at him and smiled. “Hi.”

Funny how she could make his knees weak with one grin. He had to kiss her. He couldn’t help himself. He had to taste her. It was as essential to him as taking his next breath.

When she sighed, he slipped his tongue in, deepening the kiss.

* * * *

Cyrus might be in a different body, but when Isabelle had her eyes closed, she couldn’t tell the difference between Jimmy and Johnny. After all, it was still Cyrus, no matter whose skin he was wearing. She could kiss him like this forever, but there was a lot to think through, and if he continued touching her, she had no doubt he would end up buried deep inside her.

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss. Cyrus rested his forehead against hers and breathed deeply. She was relieved he didn’t push the intimacy issue. She would cave in a minute, and he was too smart not to be aware of that. Yet, he respected her enough not to take advantage.

“I need a shower,” she said.

He gave her a wolfish grin and waggled his eyebrows up and down. “Is there room for two?”

God, yes.

But Isabelle wanted to make sure where they stood before she decided to sleep with him again. Could she fully accept the fact he was a demon? Did he care for her?
Could
he care for her? He was protective of her, genuinely seemed to care about her wellbeing and happiness, but that didn’t necessarily equate to true love on his part. What kind of future could they have together? Did he want a future with her at all?

She looked him over. Damn, he knew how to pick bodies. The urge to throw all her doubts and questions right out the window and let him ravish her burned strong.

No.
She remembered how bad it had hurt when she thought he had walked away from her at Scarlett’s. She couldn’t give herself to him again unless it meant something more than a roll in the sack. “No,” she said finally.

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

He gave her his best puppy dog eyes, and she nearly melted. She wanted him to touch her and kiss her. She needed him inside her. His brown hair looked soft and thick, and she longed to run her fingers through it. She wanted to strip his clothes off him and have a good look at his new body.

“Izzy, if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.” His deep voice sounded strained and whispered along her skin, setting it on fire.

“I’m not
looking
at you like anything.”

“You’re
looking
at me as though you want to eat me up, and believe me, I want to do the same to you.”

When he shifted, she noticed the bulge in his pants, and her blood boiled and pleaded for him, for his possession. “Oh.” She looked down. “Sorry.”

Cyrus pushed her chin back up so he could look into her eyes, then gave her one last, lingering kiss, and stood. “Go take a shower. I’m going to find us something to eat.”

“You won’t find anything but some leftover pasta in there.”

“Yeah, I already discovered that. I’m ordering out.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off his ass as he walked out of the room, and made a bet with herself that she could bounce a quarter off the damn thing. Yeah, she needed a shower. A cold one. She frowned again.
And until now, I thought only men needed cold showers.

In the end, she took a quick cool shower because she couldn’t stand it cold, and wrapped a fluffy towel around her trembling body. The mere thought of the Havoc sent shivers down her spine.

She shook the thoughts away and brushed her teeth and hair, then went back into the bedroom and threw on some jeans and a red blouse before going to find Cyrus.

He was sitting on her couch listening to Aerosmith and smiled when she walked into the room. “Holy hell.”

She screeched to a stop. “What?”

“Nothing. Those jeans look good on you, and I was thinking how strange it is that I think I might be jealous of them.”

Her cheeks heated, and her nipples peaked into hard nubs, begging for his touch. “Thanks.”

He grinned, and she cleared her throat. “Did you order some food?”

Her stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly.

“No,” he replied. “I have a better idea.”

“What’s that?”

“I think it’s time I took you for a ride in my car.”

“I’m not exactly dressed to go out anywhere.”

He laughed. “You look perfect to me. Anyway, you won’t have to get out of the car.”

“Then how are we going to eat?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.” He held his hand out, and she took it without hesitation. “Come on. Let’s go. Trust me, okay?”

“All right, but I’m pretty hungry.”

“I bet. Your fridge is like a ghost town. All the food in it either died a horrible death or ran away. You really need to get some groceries, Izzy.”

Izzy.
She didn’t mind that he called her Izzy anymore. In fact, she was beginning to like it quite a lot. The nickname sounded right, special coming from his lips.

Cyrus helped her with her coat and followed her to his car.

“Why didn’t you park in my driveway?” she inquired.

“I knew you’d recognize the car, and I wasn’t ready to go into a full explanation of what I was as soon as I stepped inside your door.”

While she wished he had told her at Scarlett’s, she could understand that logic. It wasn’t as if he could ring her doorbell and blurt out what he was when she answered. ‘Hi, I’m Cyrus, in a different body, by the way, which I’m able to do because I’m a soul-stealing demon. And how is your evening?’

She almost laughed out loud at the thought. “This car is beautiful,” she said, with a nod.

“Wait until you hear her purr.”

As if to prove his point, he started the motor, and it growled to life.

Isabelle fastened her seatbelt as he put the car in drive and did a huge burnout down her road.

“Cyrus! My neighbors are going to hate me,” Isabelle said. But she couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t sure she really cared.

“They’ll forgive you when they find out it was me who did it and not you.”

He eased onto the highway and quickly coaxed the car up to a hundred. They drove for about fifteen minutes in silence, both enjoying the speed and the drive, before Cyrus exited the highway and pulled up in front of a restaurant called
Michael’s
. “I’ll only be a minute.”

He got out before she could respond, and within five minutes, he had returned, carrying two bags. He stowed them in the back seat, got in, and pulled back onto the highway.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see.”

He drove for ten minutes before taking another exit that led to a winding, tree-lined road. He followed it up for a few miles before pulling off into the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse. “Stay put for a minute, okay?”

He got out and retrieved two blankets from the trunk. After spreading one on the hood of the car, he fetched the two bags from the back seat. Rummaging in the bags, he began to pull out containers of food, plates, napkins, two glasses, and a bottle of champagne.

Finally, Cyrus opened Isabelle’s door, then held out his hand to her. He led her to the hood of the car, picked her up, and sat her on the blanket. It was warm from the engine and quite comfortable.

“Aren’t you afraid I might scratch it or spill food on it?”

“As much as I like my car, it’s only a car. I’m not worried about it.”

He poured some champagne into the glasses and handed one to her, then piled food onto a plate and gave that to her as well. Isabelle’s stomach growled when she inhaled the incredible aroma of baked salmon and rice.

The flavors of lemon, perfectly cooked fish, and spices burst on her tongue. “Mmm. This is delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She slowly chewed, savoring each bite. “How did you know about this place?”

“People are obligingly forthcoming with information when enticed with money.”

She eyed him.

He laughed. “What? One of the kids that worked at the restaurant heard me asking about a private place to eat, and he suggested here. Said it was a make-out place for high schoolers on the weekends.”

She giggled. “You brought me to a place where teenyboppers make out?”

He shrugged, then looked around. “You have to admit, it’s private, quiet, and not bad scenery.”

He leaned his hip against the car and began eating his food in earnest. When they were done, he put everything but one box away, and refilled their glasses. He came around and stood between her legs before opening the box and pulling out a chocolate-covered strawberry. “Open your mouth, Izzy.”