ShiftingHeat (11 page)

He hated her this vulnerable. Her fine mind was collapsing
in the wake of the revelations and the pictures she’d forced herself to look
at.

His boss would do anything to get the justice she believed
Talents were entitled to. She only ever thought about the big picture. She’d
dragged Sandro Gianetti out of blissful retirement on his honeymoon to stand
for a vacant senatorship. She’d used couples ruthlessly in pursuit of the
greater good, and Andros had no doubt that if she had to sacrifice him, she’d
do it without compunction if she thought she’d save more lives than she’d lose.

He couldn’t live like that, couldn’t think like that. Coming
in to STORM from the outside, from the viewpoint of a previously anti-Talent
stand, he could see what she didn’t. As far as he’d been concerned, they’d
refused to help him with his muscular dystrophy when they had the means to do
so. The Talents he’d connected with had lied to him, told him they could cure
him or convert him with little cost to themselves, and so he could understand
what Faye was going through now.

Before, he’d believed that Talents were refusing to help
him. To learn that shape-shifters could only convert once and vampires had to
give up their lives in order to convert someone had come as a revelation to
him. He still thought they should reveal that fact. It would stop the begging
letters STORM received by the sacksful, or the inbox-full. But Ann wanted
information filtered out and vampires, secretive by nature, refused to reveal
anything about themselves that wasn’t strictly necessary.

He knew now that soon he’d have to find a place of his own.
Move out. It was unhealthy to live here. Even if his apartment at STORM was far
better than anything he could afford on his own in this part of town, one of
the best areas of Manhattan. He’d cope. Thanks to his great salary, he wouldn’t
starve anytime soon and he could easily afford something central and
comfortable. No cramped studio apartments for him.

Glancing over Faye’s bowed head, he took in the place he’d
made his own. No huge gamer screens or complex rigs here. He kept them
downstairs. Here he had a laptop, a couple of game consoles and some great,
comfortable furniture.

He had a large living room with a fantastic view, two bedrooms,
a bathroom and a half, kitchen and study. None of it was important, not really,
and nothing personal. In San Francisco, a firebomb had taken most of his
sentimental treasures, family pictures—keepsakes from the large house he’d
grown up in, all gone. He’d been glad to start from scratch in New York. It
seemed appropriate. New life, new belongings. He could leave it all behind and
not look back if he wanted to.

But not the woman in his arms. He’d have difficulty leaving
her behind. His stomach tightened with apprehension when he thought of it. He’d
never planned to put down roots this soon, had planned on a hundred years,
maybe two, of the carefree single life. But the knowledge, deep down, that he’d
found someone special only grew in certainty the more contact he had with her.
More than anything he wanted to go on with her and find out what they had.

In a while. After he’d helped Faye clear up this mess.

“Come and sit down.”

He led her to the sofa and for the first time she raised her
head and looked around. “It’s nice here.”

“You sound as if you expected a nerd’s paradise.”

She gave a shaky laugh and his heart lightened a little. “I
did, sort of. You do computer science, you’re a company geek and, in my
experience, they tend to live their work.”

“Not this one.” He wanted to tell her something about
himself that not many people knew, give her something special. “I had other
interests. I loved music, wanted the whole rock-and-roll dream. Be a star, play
for thousands of people. But I wasn’t good enough. I could sing okay, I could
play guitar okay, but no more than that. It’s a hobby, one I enjoy, but it’s a
good lesson, to learn that you can’t be a superstar at everything. I’m good at
computers though, more than good, so I stay with that.” He indicated his Martin
acoustic on its stand in the corner of the room. “Perhaps the love of music
saved me from total nerd-dom. The computer work comes too easily to me most of
the time.” He paused. “I have found something I want to work at now. That’s why
I applied to do a doctorate. It’s something I want to share with the world. Ann
says I can make a fortune, but I want to do it responsibly. If it works.”

She lifted her tearstained face to his. At least she wasn’t
crying anymore. He loved the way she curled into him and rested her head on his
shoulder. He wanted to keep her there. “I’m doing my dissertation on the
connection between telepathy and physical objects. I’m building a keyboard that
can be operated telepathically. A virtual keyboard.”

“Why?”

“Because everybody has telepathy, every Talent, every
mortal. Everyone can be taught to use it, if only a little. If a paraplegic
could learn how to communicate that way, he or she could use a computer. It’s
easy to do with telekinesis, but only Talents have that in enough strength and
control to operate a keyboard. If a disabled person could operate a keyboard,
it could be hooked up to any number of devices.”

She frowned. “A virtual keyboard?”

“You’ve seen them—those projected keyboards. The media is
always saying that Talents can help mortals by sharing, but not all gifts are
psi.”

“Wow.” Her lips curved in a tentative smile. “It’s not just
paraplegics who could use this, is it?”

“No. If I can do this, I’ll start a company to produce them.
And hopefully, I can make enough profit to give keyboards away to deserving
causes.”

“How far are you along with the project?”

He grinned. “I work on it in most of my free time, but since
my conversion, I’ve been slacking. I had to learn how to be a dragon. How to
walk again. It sounds great, but it’s not all fun and games, regaining my
ability to walk, learning to think long-term.
Really
long-term.” He made
a face and she laughed.

He found that laugh adorable. He dropped a kiss on her lips,
a playful, flirtatious kiss. She reached up, touched the back of his neck,
urging him to do more. What else could he do but oblige?

When she opened her mouth wide and twined her tongue with
his, he tasted her desperation. He didn’t think she needed the oblivion of
frantic sex, not now. And he had the sense of being used to help her forget. He
didn’t want to do that, so he drew away, resting his hands on her hips. “Come
on. A hot bath, a good meal and bed. You need pampering.” He’d much rather care
for her than be the vessel she used to gain some ease. At least tonight, when
she needed comforting and he needed to comfort her just as badly.

Although Andros couldn’t say he’d taken to cooking, he’d
found some great places that would provide him with good meals to stock his
freezer. He mentally went over the contents and decided on poached salmon with
basil. He’d bought a few servings of that dish. He’d call the place and get
them to deliver after their bath. Deliveries to STORM were a bit more
complicated, since he had to go down and collect it, rather than allow them
access to the building. Another reason for having a place of his own. He gave a
wry grin. He could get away from STORM and the pressures here. Then he wouldn’t
be so tempted to go downstairs and work when he couldn’t sleep.

With this woman beside him, he wouldn’t feel the temptation
to leave his bed quite so often.

Andros took her to his bathroom and turned on the faucets.
He had a nice, big corner tub, easily big enough for two. Three at a squeeze,
but he wasn’t planning to invite anyone else into their relationship. He
undressed her while the bath filled, touching her body but not lingering to
kiss and fondle.
Not yet. Easy does it.

Remembering his sister’s constant reminders when he was
growing up to act like a gentleman, never to forget his manners, Andros helped
her into the tub before he stripped quickly and joined her. He’d have to call
Ania later, but she’d probably turned her cell off in the hospital.

He brushed Faye’s hair away from her shoulder and dropped a
gentle kiss there as he drew her back against him. His cock was already erect,
pressing insistently against her back, but he wouldn’t give way to the urge
yet. Instead, he picked up the soap, wishing it was something sweetly perfumed
for her instead of his usual unscented, simple brand. But it would do. She
smelled sweet enough.

He rubbed the soap between his hands and put it down before
he curved his arms around her and cupped her breasts, massaging them, the suds
adding a slick silkiness to his actions. He paused to tweak her nipples, her
sharp gasp in response coming as music to his ears and he continued, stroking
her skin in increasingly wider circles. Her head went back against his shoulder
and she moaned. “That feels so good. Have you had training or something?”

“I just picked up a few techniques.” Now was definitely not
the time to tell her how he’d learned relaxing massage. Hours of physiotherapy
to keep his legs from becoming totally useless, fighting an enemy everyone knew
would win eventually had, after all, had some benefits. He’d learned how to
restore circulation, to keep his body moving and how to relax it at the end of
a long session. Then he’d dated a physiotherapist, who’d taught him much more
interesting ways to use massage.

He kept his movements slow and steady, returning to caress
her breasts, using a figure eight shape. He loved the way her lovely breasts
responded to his touch, loved their soft femininity, the way her nipples peaked
while the rest of her slowly unwound. Moving to her neck, he felt the knots of
tension ease under his hands, the stiffness of her upper back slowly giving way
to supple relaxation.

He couldn’t resist leaving kisses on the skin he’d smoothed,
after he’d rinsed it clear of soapsuds. But he made them small, undemanding,
occasionally flicking out his tongue to taste her, but no more than that.

Rising, he climbed out of the tub and then got in opposite
her, rather than urge her to move. Now he faced her he rubbed her legs, coaxing
the hard muscles to relax under his relentless but gentle strokes. Moving from
ankle to calf to thigh, he eventually reached her cleft. His hand grazed her
clit and he looked up at her soft moan.

She was leaning against the edge of the tub, eyes closed,
head back, but at his touch she whimpered and her head went up. Her gaze met
his, dark and wondering. A smile slowly grew. “Can you massage that?”

“It won’t be the relaxing session I’d planned.” He tweaked
her clit. “But I think it’ll help you relax in the long term.”

She chuckled low in her throat and his cock responded as if
she had a string attached to it. He straightened and let her see before he
moved closer, draped her legs over his. She watched him through half-closed
eyes, her tension filling the air. But this time it was pleasurable
anticipation and not strain. He could do this. He
loved
doing this.

Letting his hand graze her clit again, he stroked her, so
softly she would hardly be able to feel it. “You can open to me if you want,”
he said, guessing she might still be wary. “This apartment is sealed off from
the rest of STORM, except for emergency contact. Nobody can sense you, not the
greatest Sorcerer. My psi teacher Chase Maynord set up the barriers for me.” He
wished Chase was in town to cope with this operation with him, but he was away—in
England. Chase Maynord was one Sorcerer most people had heard of, being high
profile, the owner of a chain of hotels and a member of New York’s elite. Serena
was good, but she didn’t have Chase’s warmth and humanity.

He felt Faye’s pleasure softly filtering into his mind and
he returned it, gave her his. Blending sexual pleasure could become addictive,
especially with someone he felt attuned to. It filled him with well-being, a
sense of floating.

Touching her could become addictive too. Soft silk,
underlaid with a firmness he had yet to test. Her clit rose, hardened, and when
he glanced up he saw her nipples tighten. Watching teasing her, he could do
this forever.

Andros pressed a little harder. Her response was to slide farther
down toward him, pushing into his hand. But he didn’t want this to end yet so
he backed off a little, continuing with his steady pressure. He slid his finger
and thumb over her clit, holding it a little firmer, relishing the hot, tight
little bud. He manipulated it only a little. Enough to make her gasp. Now she’d
let him in, he could control his progress better, gauge how much harder to
push. He glided over her opening. That wasn’t just water causing the slick
wetness that invited him in.

“I can see that grin,” she murmured. “Don’t feel so pleased
with yourself.”

“Why not?” Actually he was feeling a bit smug. “I’m taking
you up and then I’ll hold you while you come down.”

Her eyes opened wider, just a fraction, and he felt a
splinter of concern in her mind.

“All that exists is now. It’s tonight, here and now and this
second.” The philosophy that had seen him through so much in the past stood him
in good stead now. She relaxed again, the only tension remaining that of her
growing heat and arousal. Her mind opened a little more.

He pleasured her, his fingers dancing along her central
crease, easing just inside and then teasing her, taking some of her juices to
smear over her clit and resume playing again. Her arousal rose, grew and
encompassed most of her mind. He loved it, her response and his control, the way
she trusted him to do this for her. She had such a lovely pussy, pink, damp.
Sweet.

He added a few choice words to his playing. “You’re so
pretty like this. Your nipples are hard, so hard. Play with them for me. Let me
see you touch yourself.”

She brought her hands out of the water and cupped her
breasts.