Chapter Eleven
Caliber vanished, leaving Isadore alone with Ruin who lay like a dead man on the ground. She hurried to him and put his head in her lap while looking all around. The insane events suddenly rushed in for her mind, ready to make her into that crazy woman she always feared of one day becoming. Isadore focused on his face, not on the reality, not on the insanity. She stroked and felt the smooth skin, the sharp stubble of his beard, wondering if it grew or just stayed that length. She didn’t recall him shaving. Look at him, so peaceful in sleep. “Guess that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She rocked him a little, looking both ways on the bridge, hoping Caliber hurried. “A little strange, I give you that.” She smoothed his brows next, allowing herself to be distracted with how he looked in a coma-deep sleep. He didn’t look scary at all. Nearly . . . innocent. Panic welled up again, tugging at her mind, wanting to steal it. She rejected the things that were too painful to bear, too strange to contemplate. And she especially rejected any thoughts about the man floating somewhere below the bridge in the dark waters of some unknown river, missing his brains and his soul. But she did allow herself to remember one thing. That Valkrin had caused it, and Ruin . . .
She shook her head. Not Ruin. Not JD. He didn’t do that, he didn’t. She chose to study the full mouth before her. His lips curved just a little at the edges and she allowed herself to think about what they felt like when he kissed her and . . . did those other things that . . .
Shit. She didn’t need guilt right now but it was hard not to feel it. Heaven and Hell were . . . well, they were intimate company lately weren’t they? Hard not to think about things one did which would determine eternal residence in one or the other? She tore her eyes from his mouth and looked for something insignificant and less lusty. Soon, tears gathered in her eyes as everywhere her gaze went made her . . . horny like a hell-bound-whore. She was so doomed. Caught up in a supernatural conspiracy circus of good and evil. Mostly evil. And she was pretty sure she was in desperate lust with some form of a devil-man-angel person with the most beautiful body that begged her without words to give herself to him in any way, shape or form at any given time of the bloody day. This was not fair, this could not be fair, or legal. She could
literally
not resist him—that was like, force and that wasn’t
fair!
Finally, the familiar rumble of her truck sounded and she dried her eyes only they refused to dry. She gave up and let the tears run free as Caliber came to a quick stop next to her, hopped out, lifted Ruin in his arms like he were light as a feather then turned and laid him in the back of the truck.
Isadore really wanted to ask Caliber questions, but she couldn’t leave him. “I’ll . . . ride with him, make sure he doesn’t hit his head.”
“Suit yourself.” Caliber climbed in the truck.
The drive back was quick. Turns out they only seemed to have walked twenty miles, not two. She climbed out the back of the truck and looked around, glad it was dark and vacant as Caliber carried Ruin into his room.
Isadore followed him in and watched him lay him on the bed, fixing his hands over his stomach then straightening. “Don’t touch his tattoos during cleansing, just to avoid possible misfiring in the reset.”
“Reset?”
“Yeah,” Caliber nodded at Ruin’s body, “I had to reset his control panel.”
Fear gripped Isadore. “Is he . . . a robot?”
Caliber’s forehead crimped as if he’d never heard such nonsense. “Of course not. His tattoos are like the code to his soul and what happened back there was like . . . ” he widened his eyes, “ . . . a malware?”
“Like a virus?”
“A spiritual one, yes.”
“Contagious?” She regarded Ruin.
“Yes and no. Can be transferred through literal touch or exposure to its power and cannot be transferred to those who are immune.”
“Am . . . I immune?”
“Yes and no again. You’re immune as long as you’re not susceptible.”
“Umm.”
“As long as you keep yourself pure and clean, you’re immune.”
“Oh God,” she moaned, doomed. “I’m not perfect.”
“Never said perfect, I said clean and pure. Watch yourself, live according to the faith you profess, and you’ll be fine.”
She nodded, swallowing, wanting to cry at how impossible that was with Ruin. But she’d try, she had to. “I’ll do what it takes.”
“I’m sure you will.”
He turned as though he’d leave and Isadore nearly panicked. She should ask questions for Ruin. “What . . . can I do for him? To make this easier?”
Caliber scratched his head, regarding Ruin with a most unfortunate look. “When he wakes he’s not going to remember much of anything. And he’ll be sore as shit.”
“For how long?” her heart raced and her stomach knotted. “Can I give him medicine?”
“Nothing that would help, and things will come back to him in no time, I’m sure, with your help.” Huge smile.
Isadore nodded with crossed arms, looking at Ruin, feeling like he was playing that last bit waaaaay down. “The cleansing takes how long?”
“Until he wakes.”
“And that will be when?”
“Any minute.”
Alarm filled her as Caliber headed for the door. “Are we to continue with our original plan?” she hurried after him.
He turned once outside the door. “Most definitely. The sooner the better for all of us. It may be a little slow going at first, but you’ll do fine.” He gave another grin and a wink then vanished in a flash explosion that seemed to get sucked into some invisible hole in the air before them.
A loud thud sounded and she ran back into the room, quickly locking the door and hurrying to the bed. She flew to Ruin on the floor in a fetal curl, groaning. “Okay, I’m here.” She stroked his head and he suddenly bolted up and held her by the throat, standing with her until she dangled in the air, his brilliant green eyes wide and . . . scared looking. Confused.
She remembered not to be afraid, not to panic. Something finally clicked in his mind that said it wasn’t good to strangle her and he released her instantly, stepping back and falling onto the bed behind him. He looked all around as Isadore rubbed the pain in her neck, choking for air.
She reached toward him in assurance and he recoiled, staring at her hand then at her almost like . . . he didn’t remember her?
“Ruin? It’s me, Isadore?” She waved at him carefully. “How do you feel?”
He grabbed his head in his hands and rocked, gasping.
She hurried over and sat next to him, taking his hands down. “Look at me,” she ordered, softly. “Look at me.” He did as she said and locked gazes with her. He slowly calmed as he stared in her eyes and Isadore felt it. Felt herself falling in love with him all over again. “I’m here.” She smoothed the hair along his face and he reached up and touched her hand. Isadore nodded, allowing him to hold it. He looked at it, and then at her, and she held her breath, waiting for him to say something. Anything.
“I’m here,” she whispered.
He stared at her lips until her heart fluttered hard in her chest. As though answering a magnetic pull, she leaned in and paused when he froze, almost seeming to wait for her. Unsure. Isadore closed the gap and pressed her lips carefully into his. He sat there and let her kiss him and Isadore thought that was a good thing, thought maybe this would help him remember whatever he’d forgotten. Help him remember the good things at least.
She realized what she was doing and pulled back. “I’m sorry, you should rest. You need to rest. Sleep.” She stood and helped him lay down and he allowed her, watching her intently as she busied herself with straightening her clothes, then the blankets on the bed. “I’ll shower while you rest and then I’ll get you some food. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Ruin grabbed her hand and pulled her back down until she laid on him. His erection pressed into her pelvis and he held her face and stared into her eyes. Again, she answered that magnetic pull to his lips and kissed him softly. This time he held her face and kissed her back, little curious nips with those perfect full lips. His hand slowly slid over her and found its way to her butt and he pressed her into his raging arousal. He seemed fully recovered.
Then she remembered Caliber’s words to remain pure and clean.
“I . . . need to shower. I’ll be right back.”
She struggled out of his embrace and he let her go, not saying a word. Once in the confines of the shower, she allowed herself to breathe again. How was she going to resist him and live pure? And clean?
If only he’d . . . love her, the kind you married for not just had sex for, then it’d all be fine.
She again took as long as she could, feeling like she’d just done that an hour earlier. Wait, she kinda had. She needed to focus on getting him food. Getting them to their assignment. Yes. That’s what she needed to do.
She opened the door slowly and jumped at finding him there. Waiting it seemed. Naked. “You’re okay,” he said, staring down at her.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Just like that. Having only a towel, it was hard to resist without losing her covering.
His hunger was startling and overwhelming and . . . very contagious. Her towel fell and Ruins hands were gliding, gripping, exploring with an urgency familiar to her. He lifted her leg up on his hip and pressed his arousal into her lower stomach then he lifted her onto his waist. She wrapped her legs around him and he leaned against the bathroom counter, taking turns feasting on each of her breasts, his hands stroking up and down her back, his fingers latching into her hair, his hunger and passion coming in deep groans and hot breath all over her.
Isadore pumped herself against his torso, unable to get good enough connection. “Ruin,” she cried, needing his touch there.
He looked between them at her sex, his breathing harsh. He locked gazes with her, and again, it felt like she was staring at him for the first time, his look so brutally intense and penetrating and desperate. It only made her want him more, faster. “Touch me, please.”
“Touch you,” he gasped, turning with her and sitting her on the marble top. He stood and stared down between her legs and Isadore touched herself, knowing he liked that. He gasped and knelt on the floor before her and watched as Isadore put on a show for him, sliding her finger inside herself, her clit throbbing with how close he got to watch. Knowing he liked her smell and taste, she slid her wet finger over his lower lip.
With a growl, he grabbed her wrist and sucked her finger. Then he clamped his hands on her inner thighs, making her cry out as shoved her legs open and buried his mouth between her folds, his lips a perfect storm of hunger, his tongue lashing her clit until constant cries flew from her lips.
“Suck me,” she cried, pulling his head tighter to her. His finger slid inside her and she bucked on it. “Fuck me yes, fuck me,” she let her head fall back. “Faster, fuck me faster, suck me.”
Ruin stood and kissed her suddenly, lifting her back on his waist and walking with her to the bed. He laid her down and crawled over her body until his knees were on either side of her shoulders, his cock before her face. She stared at his length, and grabbed the base, sliding the head all over her lips and moaning on him. She licked his slit and ridge then sucked him into her mouth, watching the muscles in his torso heave and shudder, his head falling back then forward, to watch again in agony.
He braced his hands against the wall at the headboard and Isadore opened her mouth wider, taking all of him, holding his hips, and moving him in and out of her mouth. His hard grunts and hisses made her so horny, made her want to bring him all the way. She moved him faster, sucking the head of his cock several times before letting him go deep and hit her throat.
The hissing growls were incessant now and soon he locked up with a sharp roar and pumped his hips quickly, his seed hot against the back of her throat. Nothing had ever felt so good, tasted so right. At least in that second.
He finally got off her and knelt on his haunches, staring at her. The look he had seemed . . . astonished.
She sat up and kissed him, enjoying his labored breaths in her mouth as she did. “You liked it? Did it feel good?”
He held her jaw and kissed her back with a startling hunger and she moaned in surprise. He pushed her down onto the bed and began a trail of kisses over her body, starting at her lips then moving to every inch of her neck then a full meal at her breasts before he paused and knelt between her legs. He grabbed hold of her hips and lifted her against his waist, his cock trapped in between. Need to finally have him inside her was unbearable.
“Do it,” she whispered, reaching for him, moving the length of his cock between her folds, and sliding herself shamelessly on him with a seductive hiss. “Make love to me.”
Ruin stared down at what she did then locked gazes with her, looking tormented. She moved him to her entrance, her mouth opened as she waited for the feel of his cock inside her for the first time. She cried out when the thick head pushed at her entrance. He gritted his teeth with a growl while holding her waist in a deliciously hard grip.
It suddenly seemed most important in that second, as he remained poised at the entrance that would change everything to her, that he confess it. “Do you love me, Ruin?” Surely he did by now?