Captive Heart (21 page)

Jack downed the rest of his wine, reminding himself not to get too grim or serious—but shit. “Evil faeries. That’s just great. What the hell are they doing in New York City?”

“We don’t even have a guess about that. They’ve never been known to come out of hiding and leave the British Islands. The Irish Mothers are going to attempt to contact the Sluagh still in Ireland to see if they can figure out why this is happening, but we don’t think the Host pose a threat unless we engage them.”

“Or unless you have what they want. They have to want something to come all this way.” Jack went back to the dip, finishing off the silky cheese faster than he should have.

“They’re watching the sorcerers, best we can tell. I can’t figure what Griffen and his bunch have that could possibly be important to them.” Andy glanced around, and Jack figured she was checking for the waiter to get them some refills.

He looked around, too, but no luck. The guy had made himself scarce. “Some stolen artifact? Or maybe Griffen’s behind Frank and the supermobsters? Or both?”

“His group allied with the Rakshasa, but I don’t think humans could come up with the technology to manufacture Rakshasa demon blood.” Andy still had a bite of cheese dip on her plate, and she ate it with a floret of broccoli that came with the appetizer tray. “He’s probably helping whoever’s doing it, though, because we can’t find any traces of where the supermobsters are hiding.”

“What paranormal group would have the technology to manufacture Rakshasa blood? The Host?”

“Possible.” She leaned back in her chair, leaving both hands on the table. “But that doesn’t feel right. Not that I should be surprised, since none of this feels right anyway. The whole Rakshasa connection just doesn’t make any sense.”

A small knot of tension formed in Jack’s gut, fighting with his cheese dip as he got to some questions that bothered him on deeper levels. “What about your connection to the Seneca crime family? Come up with anything on that front?”

“Not a thing. I’ve never tangled with those guys that I’m aware of, and OCU swears they’re history, anyway. The old man pulled out and went back to the Balkans to regroup after we kicked his ass last year, and he had virtually nobody left except his sons and a handful of loyal locals.”

“Some of whom are now genetically altered, demon-enhanced supermobsters.”

The French onion soup arrived. Jack tasted his as Andy let out a low moan of satisfaction that got his blood boiling all over again.

“It’s good,” he agreed, surprised he could still talk when he wanted her so badly.

“Nothing like exciting food.”

“And an exciting woman.”

“You’ve got all the lines, Jack.”

“Only with you, they’re not lines. At least, I don’t want them to be.”

“I’m enjoying this, our teasing and playing. And those kisses before we got attacked—those felt special to me.” Andy put down her spoon and stared at it instead of looking at him, and Jack knew another moment was at hand, a moment where he could take a step toward winning her or get a head start on losing her forever.

Don’t screw it up, Blackmore. Whatever you do, don’t screw it up
.

“I guess I’m just wanting to know where we’re headed. No bullshit and no lines. Where do I fit in your life, Jack? Somebody to warm your bed until the wind blows in your heart and you move on? The truth won’t put me off. It’ll just keep me realistic. I need that much.”

Jack took a slow, deep breath. For a few seconds he tried to pick the best words, then tossed that idea and spoke from his heart. “I want you in my bed, but not just to keep me warm. You’re more than that.”

Andy’s lips parted, and all Jack could think about was kissing her. He could lean across the table, or move it—or what the hell, just pitch the thing sideways.

“How much more?” Andy asked him.

He barely heard the words, barely kept his thoughts together enough to answer her. “Right now in my life, you feel like everything.”

She didn’t say anything in response to that, and she looked away. A sobering thought pounded its way into Jack’s mind, and he voiced it before he considered whether or not it was a good idea. “Will I be the first since your loss?”

“Yes.”

Jack’s heart squeezed until he almost coughed from the pain in his chest.

She sounded so soft. So scared.

Right that second, he wanted to cradle her and keep everything in the world away from her—everything but him. He hadn’t wanted to be the first, but at the same time, he felt a roaring, thundering sense of triumph that he would be. Nobody else had her love, her attention. Nobody else had a claim on her, and damn it, nobody ever would.

Don’t screw it up. Don’t … screw … it … up
.

“That’s a big step, Andy.”

She met his gaze again. Pain and anger flashed across her face. “If you’re not comfortable taking it with me—”

“Stop.” Jack held up both hands, then made himself put them on the table. “I know you’ll have a lot of emotions, not all of them good, but I can take it.”

Andy’s bottom lip trembled for a moment.

Christ, was the woman trying to kill him? He was gonna end up tossing away the table between them before this was over, he just knew it. He hated the piece of wood for separating him from her.

Yeah, go ahead and haul her out of here over your shoulder like a caveman. She’ll really appreciate that
.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t mean for this to be so complicated.”

Jack had to use every bit of his physical and mental strength to keep his seat and keep his body still. He relaxed each muscle group as quickly as he could, then once more decided to speak from the heart instead of worrying about the words. “You’re a woman with so many layers I can’t even count them. Complicated goes with the territory.”

Andy seemed to get hold of herself, to beat back the fear and old pain threatening to stand between them. She seemed to be relaxing, too, even though he figured they were both getting tense in new ways.

“If we take this to the next level, just be straight with me, Jack. If you start thinking about moving on, I won’t cling—but tell me.”

She stared into his eyes and he let her. He stared back. Here it was. He had his permission. He had his invitation.

Don’t turn over the table and act like a caveman. Don’t screw it up. Speak from the heart
and
choose the right words
.

“We’re taking it to the next level.” Jack put his hands over Andy’s, enjoying how small her wrists and fingers felt compared to his—and giving thanks for the way she looked now, like she wanted him to touch her, like she wanted him closer.

He lifted one of her hands and kissed it, letting the softness sink into his consciousness and keep him sane. “We’re taking it to the next level tonight, and I’m going to be right here.”

Andy stood in Jack’s room on the second floor of the townhouse, taking in all the details. Spacious. A few leather chairs and a table near the fireplace, which was close to the door. A leather couch right in front of her. Big bed with a dark spread behind her. Nothing on the walls. Nothing on the dressers. They’d had “the talk” on the way here from the restaurant, about how Sibyls didn’t need contraception or conventional protection because their elemental energy defeated disease, and they chose the moment of pregnancy. That was all sane and rational. And Jack, he was downstairs checking in with the OCU so they wouldn’t be interrupted. Also sane and rational.

Andy standing here in the middle of Jack’s private world, barefoot, the straps of her heels dangling from her fingers—that didn’t feel sane and rational at all.

What the hell am I doing?

She didn’t want to look at the bed. She realized she was shaking. This was wrong. It had to be wrong because it wasn’t Sal.

Sal’s gone. Jack’s real and he’s here and he’s now
.

Handsome man. Smart and kind and understanding, despite the fact he worked not to show that softer side of himself to anybody. Damned sexy, too. And if she told herself the truth, the feelings he stirred in her—way different from what she’d shared with Sal. That relationship had been warm and peaceful and close. Safe. Yeah.
Safe
was a good word.

And Jack?

He’s got wind in his heart
.…

Behind her, the bedroom door opened and closed.

Andy’s skin tingled. The room seemed to fill with Jack’s cedar-and-earth smell, with his male energy and the desire he radiated whenever he got close to her. She liked that sensation, and her fear doubled. Tripled.

She tried to put the shoes down and ended up dropping them.

Was it hot in here? She didn’t remember it being this hot. She knew she was turning red all over.

Jack’s hands gripped her shoulders, but he didn’t turn her around. He massaged, firm yet gentle, working out the knots in her neck, then moving lower, to her bare arms, easing her hair carefully aside.

Why can’t I stop shaking?

Her dress had gotten damp, top to bottom. She made herself breathe, did what she could to keep her water energy in check. Jack came closer and the feel of his muscled chest against her back blotted out her sense of the real world.

She leaned into him and closed her eyes. Felt his lips on her neck as he squeezed her elbows, her forearms. Kissing soft. Slow. Chills of pleasure covered her skin, and she kept shaking, only now she was pretty sure it was because she wanted Jack so badly.

“Are you sure?” he whispered into her ear, setting off a new round of delicious shivering.

Her breath came short and fast, but she managed a definite “Yes.”

Invited, wanted, his palms slid from her arms to her waist, then up until he cupped her breasts. The soft fabric of her dress and the silk of her bra seemed like nothing between her skin and his powerful hands—nothing, but too much. He rubbed her nipples through the fabric and Andy moaned. Water pooled between her breasts as his hands moved again, behind her. Then her zipper opened and the damp dress slid off her shoulders and past her hips. The bra went just as fast, and he slipped it off her arms, freeing her, leaving her in nothing but her silk underwear. The fabric of his suit scrubbed against her back and legs, and she could feel his erection pressing into her.

Definite yes. Definite
.

I need to quit shaking
.

He kissed her shoulders. The stubble on his chin tickled and burned at the same time, sliding across the moisture she couldn’t control. He cupped her breasts again, this time grabbing her nipples roughly as he bit her neck.

Andy moaned louder, getting wetter all over, in all the wrong places and all the right ones, too. She leaned into him even harder, rubbing herself against his muscles, against the bulge in his slacks. The hot spot between her legs throbbed as he kept rolling the hard flesh of her buds between his big fingers.

“You’re too beautiful for words.” The words came out low and jagged, and that only made Andy want him more. She pressed herself into his palms, teasing the fingers pinching her until bolts of pleasure shot all over her body.

“Harder. I can take it harder.” She raised her arms and reached back, finding his head, his thick hair as he bit her neck again. The pressure on her nipples doubled, making her squirm, making her hotter, pain and pleasure, just enough, just right. His fingers turned to fire on her nipples, tugging, pulling, rolling, and his teeth burned everywhere they touched. The bulge against her back seemed to pulse. She wanted him inside her and she didn’t want to wait much longer.

God, she was wet. Water dripped everywhere. She couldn’t help moving and her knees brushed against the thick cushions of the couch in front of her.

“I want you.” He kept nibbling but let his hands move down, across her belly, between her legs. He stroked her through the damp fabric and she barely bit back a scream.

“I want you,” he said again, more ragged, more insistent.

Heat washed across every inch of Andy’s body. “Yes, please. I’m ready. I’m ready for you.”

Jack’s bass growl of need nearly made her come as he let go of her, turned her to face him, and kissed her like a man starving for anything she’d give him. His tongue probed hard and deep, demanding response, and Andy kissed back with everything she had.

She pushed forward, rubbing his shirt with her breasts as she shoved his jacket off his arms and got rid of his tie. The buttons were harder. Some popped loose as she pulled open his shirt, running her nails up his well-cut abs and pecs. The scars from his bullet wounds felt rough, but he didn’t act like the wounds were tender. They seemed more healed than they should have been, almost like they were years old, like his other scars. More bullet wounds. A few knife or claw scratches. She’d known he would look like this, a warrior’s warrior, but it still turned her on beyond all reason.

With a sigh, she let herself go flesh to flesh with him. So warm. So hard. He gripped her ass, rubbing, massaging, sliding her underwear down as she unfastened his pants, pushed them down, and reached inside his dark briefs.

Jack bit her lip and she bit his, sighing at how thick and hot he felt, how full and long. Naked together. Nothing between them now. Jack’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once, and she wanted that, she wanted him now, right now, right that second.

He pushed her down on the couch, and her bare ass rubbed the soft leather as he settled himself, forcing her backward, forcing her legs open so he could kneel in front of her. Before she could absorb all the sights and sounds and feelings, he cupped both her breasts, bent over, lowered his head, and took one nipple in his mouth.

Andy gasped. Her back arched as furious pleasure washed through her body. His teeth. His tongue. His mouth heated her skin as he tasted first one nipple, then the other, and all Andy could do was hold the sides of his head and ache for more. His rough cheeks brushed across her breasts and he whispered, “So beautiful. Feel like heaven. And damn, you smell even better.”

He moved his mouth lower, and Andy ached even more, hot between her legs, so excited and surprised she couldn’t quite remember how to breathe. The feel of his hard muscle between her thighs and the leather against her bare skin nearly made her crazy.

Jack kissed a slow path down her belly, and lower.

“Red,” he murmured as he kissed the edges of the curly hair between her legs. “I knew it.”

And he kissed lower.

“God, yes.” Andy kept hold of his head, pushing now, wanting his lips and tongue lower.

He was taking his time. Treating her like a delicacy. Making her blood pound. Every inch of her kindled to hot and ready, and each electric touch made her shiver.

Jack’s tongue moved closer to her wet center. Andy raised herself toward his mouth, feeling water break across her whole body and flow down, soaking them both.

Jack’s shoulders moved and Andy realized he was chuckling as she drenched him with her water energy. His hot breath between her legs nearly made her explode. “Please,” she said, barely recognizing her own voice. She hadn’t known it would be like this, that she’d want him so much—and he’d go so damned slow! “Please, please!”

Jack pressed his mouth tight to her throbbing folds. At the same moment, he slid one finger deep inside her, moving in rhythm with his mouth, and she had to cover her mouth to keep herself from screaming loud enough to bring half the OCU running.

He plunged his finger in and out, moving his tongue in circles and setting off ripples of pleasure. Chills covered her and she breathed harder, faster, keeping time with his thrusts.

Her first climax hit her so hard that a thin wave of water crashed against the wall of his room, soaking the plaster. She clamped her knees tight against his head. “Jack. Damn!” Her hips bucked outside her control as his mouth moved away from her depths. Up again. To her belly. Higher.

Andy arched backward, her head against cushions, and Jack kissed her neck, her chest, and moved down fast all over again. When his mouth fastened on her nipple this time, she did scream. He gripped her with both hands at her waist, pulling her into him as he nibbled and sucked on the swollen tip. Before he could torture her with the other nipple, she leaned sideways, pulling him down with her.

“I want to feel you. I want you inside me. Please, Jack.”

The look on his handsome face turned positively wild as he lifted himself to the couch then stretched on top of her, spreading her legs with his knee, bracing his hands beside her head. His dark eyes focused so completely on her face that she thought he must be seeing everything about her, past and present and future, and she knew how good he’d feel. More than good. Better than good. She wasn’t even breathing anymore, barely moving except to open herself, let him in, hoping he’d go deep and never stop.

He teased her for an instant, a second that lasted a year, letting her feel his width across her sensitive, waiting center. Then he sank inside her, going every bit as deep as she wanted, as deep as she could stand.

Better than good. More than more. Infinite.

“Oh, my God.” It was all she could say. The rest was nothing but moans as she trembled and shook and took him, barely able to stand the thrusts, lifting her hips to meet each one. Filled and completed. She grabbed his shoulders, pulling herself up, moving against his rocking hips until her eyes closed and her water became a slippery heaven between them, slick and warm, and still he went deeper, possessing her completely.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured, and the sound of his voice, the raw possession in his claim pushed her closer to the edge.

Andy held back by sheer force of will. She wanted another minute. Two minutes. An hour.

“Jack.” Saying his name felt delicious. The sound of their bodies moving, moving on the leather sofa spun through her senses. She felt released in ways she hadn’t imagined, hadn’t even known she wanted. Each stroke lifted her now, pushing her harder, pushing her faster.

“Come for me,” he whispered, driving into her, sliding her on the couch. “Let me hear you moan.”

Andy’s orgasm took her like a fast-moving wave, starting in her center and washing outward, all over, from her aching nipples to her curled toes. She moaned and kept moaning, and Jack kept moving.

She didn’t think she could take another second, but she wanted more, she wanted everything. Andy wrapped her arms around Jack’s neck and held on as those dark, dark eyes blazed down at her. Black inside brown. Endless depths. He claimed her mouth again, setting her lips on fire with the rest of her. She loved how he felt inside her, loved how he looked at her.

She had to force her legs to work, to keep her thighs tight around his waist. He broke the kiss. Looked at her again, cherishing, possessing, adoring her completely.

Andy tensed, fighting the next wave because this one, this one might drown her senses. As her breasts thrust upward, he caught a stone-hard nipple in his mouth, grazing his teeth across the sensitized flesh and making her scream. Another second, and she’d wash away completely.

With a bone-deep groan, Jack exploded inside her, filling her even more, catapulting her into an orgasm so hot and hard she couldn’t feel anything but heat and shivers. Ecstasy hit her in waves, taking her sight, her hearing, every bit of her energy and resolve and reserve. She collapsed in a haze of satisfaction, feeling like she’d been set adrift in a warm ocean, and he held her to him, let his warm weight anchor her, easing her down, kissing away the tears she didn’t even know she was crying.

“You’re mine,” she heard again as he moved himself gently off her, then picked her up, cradling her as he carried her to his big bed.

“Prove it,” Andy murmured as he lowered her onto a mound of soft pillows.

He climbed into the bed beside her, tucking her in, pulling her close, then kissing her face and whispering, “You’re beautiful,” until she fell asleep and dreamed about coral palaces, crystal beaches, and endless blue waves on the sand.