Authors: Carys Weldon
I knew there was more to it than me just sleeping in his bed. I mean, I’d smelled the sex when I got up. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d taken advantage of me. I wished, instantly, that I could remember that part.
So, he obliged me with a grin. Rolling his eyes a little, he shrugged, “I put you on the bed.”
I’m guessing that was because the homeys were all over his sofa sectional.
“And then what?” He needed prompting. Picking his words too much. I’m guessing he was trying to decide how to explain it to me.
He blew out a little laugh. “And then I went and took a fucking shower.”
It made sense. He’d killed a few. Probably had blood all over him.
That shit goes on all the time in the big city. Those unexplained crimes...they aren’t unexplained, really. That’s garou mafia action. Well, pack politics, and crinos insanity.
I willed him this:
unzip your pants.
His eyes darkened, but slow and sure, I heard him ease his zipper down and I put my foot to his cock, felt the velvet skin of it beneath the pad of my foot. Neither of us looked around. We didn’t care if other garou had keyed in on the light sound--so light that no one but one of us would have heard. But then, that’s all that hung out there. So, likely as not, everyone knew what was up. Pun intended.
I teased, “And after the shower, you hung out with the boys, watched some TV. and then fell in beside me, keeping your hands to yourself. Right?”
“Right.” His lips quirked upward on one side.
“But you always sleep naked. Right?”
“Yep.” He was watching me, so close. I think he wanted me to remember our first time together. And I hated to disappoint him, but, hey, I was under the influence. And that was too stinking bad.
My toe touched liquid, and I went to draw it back. I’d really just wanted to tease him anyway, but he hung onto me, wouldn’t let me retreat.
“So, I climbed into bed beside you, tired. Beat, actually.”
I snickered, “Licking your wounds?”
“Yeah. You could say that.” Honestly, he added, “It didn’t help that you’d completely zonked out on me.”
“Apparently you managed to revive me at some point.”
“Oh, hell no. You revived yourself.”
Silence stretched between us. He was playing me, or so I thought. I grinned. “Then how did I get naked? Stripped myself in a fit of...what? Drug induced lethargy?”
“Smart ass.” He liked my mouth, I knew it the way his lips were twitching, and the way his eyes were twinkling. “I undressed you.”
“I thought so.”
Suddenly, the play went out of the air between us. I saw something in his eyes, that tenderness resurfacing. Turning my chin a little away from him, watching him out of the corner of my eye, I asked, “And what?” I knew there was something that had happened there.
Chaos lowered his voice, and sweetly, he admitted, “Tee, I never took care of anybody before. Not like that.”
I tried to discern what that meant. I know, sure as shit, that he’d taken women’s clothes off of them before. And probably in stupors of all kinds.
“Close your eyes.”
Part of me was afraid to, but I did it anyway. I’m really surprised he did this next thing, considering that Leer was probably listening in. But then, I think Leer probably saw it the first time it happened. They’ve got some crazy twin thing going on that’s bigger than any old psychic connection.
He let me see what he saw. Chaos pressed my mind with the vision of him letting go of me on his pallet, feeling my breath against his cheek, him listening to my heart, checking my pulse.
So, he’d been afraid I was overdosing?
It was weird, him giving me his thoughts, the connection he was able to give me. I felt his worry.
I asked, “Why were you so worried? I mean--”
He cut me off. “Shh. Just feel what I felt, Tee. Let it happen.”
I felt a racing pulse. His. The way he’d felt helpless.
Some homey behind him asked, “She okay?”
Through his eyes, I saw him look around, over his shoulder. The guy was covered in blood, but he was worried, concerned.
Before that, I’d never thought of his goons like they were people who had any real affection for Chaos. But that man knew that Chaos cared about me, and I had to wonder why.
I felt Chaos’s gratitude, a sickness in the pit of his stomach, as he said, “Do I look as bad as you do?”
“Sit with her, while I take a shower.”
Chaos didn’t let go of my hand until the guy was close. Taking the man’s hand, he put it on my pulse, and said, “Don’t let go. If she stops breathing, you scream for me.”
It was intense, the way he said it and it sounded like...like he was afraid of losing me. And that stunned me to the bone. To my chest. To somewhere deep inside of me. The place I didn’t dare to inspect.
I mean, he’d cared that much when he didn’t even know me? Maybe I was superimposing what I wanted somebody to feel about me.
“No. Just watch, Tee.”
What seemed like only a second later, he was out of the shower, naked, looking at the guy, and me, asking, “How is she?”
“Hasn’t changed, boss. Hasn’t moved a muscle. But she’s still breathing. Maybe we should take her to a doctor.”
“No.” He sat down on the bed, “You go wash up...and thanks.”
“No problem.” The guy hesitated to leave, though, and he asked, “You want anything?”
I felt emotion then. Chaos choking up. The vision got watery, as his gaze turned to his friend, and he said, “Pray to Gaia.”
Electricity frizzled all over my head, and I took both hands to run through my hair, trying to understand this little vision he was giving me.
“You got it, boss. Me and the boys. I’ll see to it.”
Fuzzy freaking picture of a blue-gray-lit room, moon illumination through those glass panels in the ceiling, me on the bed, looking dead.
Chaos leaned over me, sniffed, licked little spatters of blood from my skin. Tender ministrations. His tongue tickled at the neckline of my shirt, until he finally pulled it over my head. He slipped my shoes from my feet, too, and then worked my skirt off.
Reverently, he looked down at me, fingered around the edges of my undergarments, felt for a pulse on the inside of my thigh. I felt a sadness, heard him whisper, “Don’t leave me before I--”
I broke the vision by interrupting with, “What are you trying to tell me?”
Chaos, for being a smooth player, shook his head, “Let me show you, Tee.” And when he put the thought
please let me show you
in my head, I had to let it go on. But feelings of confusion were taking me over. And I think those were his, as much as mine.
He didn’t go back to the moment I broke at. He skipped past it, showed me how he stretched out beside me, rolled me onto him, where my face was on his chest, and my body was along his. He held me like that, stared at the ceiling, I think for ages. One hand wrapped around my back, the fingers splayed out over the skin above my waist. The other, he had on my head, and occasionally, he kissed the top of my head, but I felt that his pinky had been spread--to feel my carotid.
There was a sense of belonging, a relief in the steady, but slow rhythm of my blood flow which managed to drop to sync with his pulse. Steady, constant.
I didn’t understand. Not really.
He savored those moments, those hours, when he held me like that.
Chaos moved my foot, leaned toward me and whispered, “Make no mistake, Tee. I fucked you.”
You’d think that might have broken the spell, but it didn’t. Once again, the intensity in his eyes transmitted itself to me, mesmerized me.
Sucked in, I said, “Show me. Show me how it felt.” I wanted those moments back, I can tell you that. But somehow, I knew that getting them from his viewpoint would be so much more profound to me. My emotions are always all over the place, confused. His were focused, well defined. And the insight into how he felt about me was something I really needed. I was afraid to trust the connection I was feeling.
“Close your eyes.”
Like a good little girl waiting for a treat, I closed them, leaned back and let the images he was sending fill my brain.
He must’ve drifted off at some point, because there was darkness, but the steady beating of the heart and part of my body felt warm, cozy. That was the side that was draped with a bed partner. Me on him. My leg had slithered over his, and, in my sleep, I was half over his thigh, half across his chest.
Sensitized, like every nerve ending had woken up to an instant awareness.
No one was moving anywhere else in the apartment. It was just the two of us on that bed, but I was moving--feeling it from his body. First, it was small, skittering skin touches, slithering fingers, a restless leg. That’s what had woken him up. The bump of my thigh against his manhood.
Then the feel of my lacey bra against his chest hairs, roughing his one nipple. And my breath as I turned my lips upward, not kissing, just breathing in my sleep--but it was a moaning sleep. He kissed the top of my head again, and checked to see if I was awake. I felt his hand skim my exposed cheek, riffle through my hair--with affection. Relief that I wasn’t in a coma any more?
Another kiss to the top of my head. Blackness, then the thought, “Thank Gaia.”
I didn’t want to come out of this trance. It felt so...good. I never would’ve expected that Chaos had this in him. Or that he’d share it with me.
His lips pressed against mine, but I didn’t open my eyes.
I felt him around me, crowding me in that booth, but I begged mentally,
He chuckled. He kissed me some more. Little pecks and licks under my ear.
But that blended with the dreamy images in my head. I’d done that to him in my sleep. And I’d boldly reached for his hand and brought it to my breast.
I felt the squeeze of a handful of flesh, the flick of a thumb over a hardened nipple, through the fabric of the bra. The squirming pressure of the mound plying into me, asking silently for a tighter hold.
And I heard
moan in unison with a groan that climbed up from inside my belly, his belly, felt a wisp of breath at my ear, his ear, and heard my own voice plead softly, “Make love to me.”
He rolled me onto my back, looked down at my dreamy expression, and kissed me. Tasted me.
Closed his eyes and devoured me.
Plunged his tongue into me and drank from my soul.
And I, limp in his arms, sighed into his hungriness, and arched into his manliness, then pulled my lips free, and airily begged, “Lick me.”
Greedily, he did. I felt his tongue along the ridge of the bra, the warmth of his breath over the material as he sucked through it, titillating first one nipple, and then the other.
My hands at each side of his face, I dragged him up for a kiss, then pushed him downward, undoing the front clasp of my bra, pulling it open, then saying, “Don’t stop.”
Before long he was over me, between my legs, both hands around my breasts, pushing them together, sucking first on one, then the other, then both at the same time. And there was no mistaking the wantonness beneath his body.
I pushed his head down farther.
Hands to my hips, he rested his face on my abdomen, fingered the crotch edge of my panties, sniffed my twat. Savored the moment.
My eyes opened at that.
He was grinning at me, had his face propped about four inches from mine. He teased, “I can smell you getting hot.”
What could I say to that? There wasn’t any denying it, that’s for damn sure.
Darkly, he said, “Every dog in the place can smell it.”
“You like that?”
“I like them knowing that I do it to you.”
He liked them hearing our conversation. Big ass ears everywhere.
But I did, too.
Teasing him, I said, “Zip up your pants, Chaos. I’m not climbing under this table to return favors of a man’s fantasy.”
His tongue lolled around his mouth for a minute before he cajoled, “C’mon, Tee. Live a little.”
“I am,” I told him, as I put my feet back into my shoes, and moved to climb out of the booth. “But I’m done here.”
Dropping a big bill on the table, he paid for all three meals. And he left a generous tip. Chaos was more generous than people ever gave him credit for. That’s why he rose to power so quick. There was something clear and true to the way he dealt with people.
No backbiting. In your face, at your throat and up front and honest. No question about how he felt about you. He either liked you or he didn’t.
And, as much as there was stuff going on between him and his brother, politics of pack action, there was respect, humor, a kismet connection there. I think they totally understood each other. Actually, I think Chaos totally understood everybody. That’s what made him so great.
Maybe too great, if you know what I mean.
Other people can’t handle that kind of...what? Leader with insight? Like, it’s too scary.
scary. He dug in too deep. Exposed people.
He followed me out, and I said, “I gotta get a change of clothes.”
The thug posse picked up behind us the minute we left the restaurant, coming out of doorways, and shadows. Freaking annoying the way they gathered and slinked.
We walked in silence to a busier cross street, and he hailed a taxi. We climbed in. I gave my address, then looked over my shoulder. It took two cabs to fit them all. Must’ve been ten or eleven of them. I wondered if they’d multiplied in the light of day?
There was a lot of quiet between us, like he was comfortable. I was trying to block out the little bit I’d learned.
He niggled into my thoughts with
I’m gonna watch you take that skirt off, you know.
He chuckled. The cabby glanced in the rearview mirror and asked, “Excuse me?”
I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. Chaos let his fingers stroll up my thigh, and his pinky spread wide and protective. Like a little snake, it ventured deep between my legs. I had to push his hand off. I couldn’t think with him doing that.
So, I couldn’t think with him anywhere near me.
The car jerked to a stop in front of my shabby little nothing place, he paid the tab and we went up. Nothing so glorious as top floor. Second. Steep, tight stairs, too. At the door, I said, “Don’t expect much. Okay?”
He didn’t say anything, just watched me concentrate over which key to put in the three locks. Yeah, not the best of neighborhoods. Worse than the warehouse district. He didn’t say it, though.
“You’re making me nervous, watching me like that.”
“Why? I’ve been doing it for months.”
Now, that stopped me for a minute. I glanced up at him. That explained my growing paranoia.
“You mean you
Flip, he said, “You and a dozen other women.”
I knew better, though. He may have been with a dozen other women, but there was something evasive going on. Like he was suddenly protecting.
I began to think twice about letting him in. I mean, I never took anybody back to my place. Not that there was much there. But there were a few things that told on me.
“Look. Why don’t you wait out here and I’ll just change my clothes real quick.”
He wasn’t going for that. He crowded me, kissed me, reached around me in the middle of that, and opened the door, then pushed me in, shut the door, and had me against it while he sucked my heart out with his perfect soul-rending tongue intrusion.
When he let me up for air, I pushed at him, and joked, “So, I guess you don’t like waiting in the hall.”
He let me slip past him.
A little nervous now that we were in the confines of my apartment, and I realized that it told on me a little bit too much, I smoothed my skirt down and tugged on my shirt. Then I turned my back on him, glancing around, wondering how he saw my place.
There wasn’t much to it, really. Nothing to brag about. Cheap furniture that looked good. Floral print: pretty pink and blue flowers on a beige background. I dropped a hand across the velvet texture, and let my gaze stray to the things hanging on the wall. Just flowers. Forget-me-nots. Lilies.
He said, “I can’t see anything but you. Don’t you get it?”
I was not getting it. I didn’t want to get it. I sure didn’t believe it. So, I shrugged, headed toward the bedroom, and said over my shoulder, “Make yourself comfortable.”