Crescent Moon (15 page)

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Authors: Delilah Devlin

BOOK: Crescent Moon
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“As you should be. You spoiled something beautiful.”

His hand curled around hers and squeezed. “I’m not used to being with someone I care about,” he said softly.

She turned her head to find him looking right at her.

“I care,” he said softly. “It’s why I’m bein’ a dick.”

Not the most romantic avowal of affection a woman might ask for, but it made her smile. “I care as well. We shouldn’t worry about consequences.”

“You aren’t gonna die,” he said, his voice gruff.

“I might. But if I live, it is not by my will, but by that of the gods. My destiny is not my own. Should I bear a child, it will be because that child was meant to be.”

“You sayin’ it’s a waste of time to worry about condoms?”

“Since I like the feel of you … uncloaked … would I seem very self-serving if I say yes?”

One of Justin’s eyebrows rose, and he let go of her hand, grabbed a lock of her hair, and pulled, forcing her to move—down his body. “You did say I’d get exactly what I wanted—after.”

Feeling light of heart, she let him force her down his body until her mouth hovered over the part of him that required her attention. She wrapped her fingers around his slackened length. “He seems lacking.”

“He only needs a little encouragement.”

Since he’d shown her the previous night just how to please him, she bent and bundled his softened member into her mouth. Already, she noted a new firmness. But with her cheeks bulging she gave him an indignant glare, as though she wasn’t really enjoying the intimate act.

His fingers threaded into her hair, nails digging into her scalp.

His aggression fueled her desire, and she kept her gaze on his tightening face as she pulled back her head, slowly releasing his thickening cock. The pleasure evident in his deepening breaths was her own. With hands and mouth, she gave back to him everything he’d taught her.

Maybe he didn’t know, but he’d given her tenderness, treated her as a woman—something she’d craved inside her heart for so long she’d thought the lack was her penance, the cost she paid for the favor Amun had bestowed.

She only hoped that the gift she’d been given wasn’t meant only as a last solace, a glimpse of what might have been if she had time to explore this relationship. That would be too cruel.

Fingers tugged her hair again, and she released him, allowing him to draw her up his body. Those same fingers smoothed away moisture from beneath her eyes.

“Sorry,” she said, moving up a little more to center herself, then sink down, taking him inside her.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for. Just didn’t expect you to cry over a blow job. Was worried I’d asked too much.”

“It is not you. I wasn’t thinking about you.”

He gave a soft grunt. A sound she was coming to adore. “I feel all better now.”

A smile stretched her mouth. “I am happy, Justin Henry Boucher. That is all.”

“Well, that’s not a little thing.” A wicked eyebrow arched. “Wanna learn how this is done?”

“I think I can figure it out.” She pushed up, letting his length slide from inside her, then slowly dropped until he was once again lodged deep.

“Yeah, you’re a fast learner,” he murmured.

This time she kept her thoughts to herself. She had to learn fast because this might be all she would ever know of passion.

Chapter Twenty-Two

At the slide of soft thigh nudging him in a delicate place, Juste startled awake. His breath hitched, then released in a slow sigh as her knee moved away. She was sleeping. This time, peacefully, her expression lax rather than mobile and tensing as it had earlier when she’d had her nightmare.

From the soft light seeping past the edges of the curtain, he knew dawn had arrived. Another day with Khepri in his arms … but for how much longer? He didn’t like to think about good-byes; they always made him uncomfortable, his stomach knotting with guilt. This time, the thought of saying good-bye made him breathless, his heart thudding with dread … but why would he be afraid to let her go?

Maybe their strange circumstances—the way they’d met, the dangers they’d already faced—were at the core of his anxiety. But he was only fooling himself.

He was afraid of being alone again. Without a person on the planet he could claim as his own. Bobby had been his one and only friend. What was Khepri? His lover, for now. Once they wrapped up this case, would she be anything at all? Would she melt away, like the soul-bird that had shot from her back?

The arm trapped beneath her torso pulled her closer. His nose nuzzled her hair, taking in her fresh, sweet scent. The problem was, he’d like to get used to this closeness. But no wife of a god would stick with a cop. Why should she? Now, being together made some sense. She needed him. But after?

A warm hand cupped his balls, and he pulled back his head to glance into her face.
“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Both of her eyebrows rose. “Which is it: good or bad?”

His mouth twitched. “A good one.”

“I like your shorthand figures of speech.”

He brushed away a tendril of her hair. “Do you even know what shorthand is?”

Her nose scrunched. “Not really. Scribbles? I guess that adjective doesn’t really make sense.”

“It does, but it’s funny how you manage to find the right word even when you don’t understand it.”

A frown furrowed her brow. “I don’t know where these things come from. They are just there, inside my head. I suppose Amun wanted me fluent, so I am.”

Mention of her husband soured his belly. “What’s he like?” he asked, keeping his voice even. “Your husband?”

Her gaze slid away. “I don’t remember. Physically, anyway. I know I was with him in the
Duat
, but those memories are fleeting. Before that, I simply felt him around me, guiding me. Ephemeral, in spirit-form. Amun was once the king of the gods. Thebes was his city, and my temple across the river was his center of power and worship.”

“Was he cruel or kind? Brimstone and fire, or soft and fluffy?”

Her laughter gusted across his skin. “He is as complex as any man. Bad and good, but for Amun … the good side is stronger. He champions the poor and those in trouble. He was one of those present at creation, and his element is air. He is the wind, invisible, but always there—sometimes strong and fearsome, sometimes light and playful. He lifts me by my wings and carries me aloft.”

Juste forced his face into a neutral mask although his stomach soured.
How the hell could a mortal man compare with that?

She cleared her throat, and a fine line appeared between her dark eyebrows. “I cannot be certain, but I do not think I ever served him as a true wife in the
Duat
.”

His gaze sharpened as he ran a hand down his face. She didn’t remember sleeping with her own husband? “If you can’t be certain, why do you think that?”

“Because, with you, everything we’ve shared feels … new.”

Which wasn’t any proof at all that she hadn’t slept with her husband. For Juste, everything about Khepri felt like the first time. And that was a rarity. “Do you think I’d care if you’d been with him, like this?”

Her glance rose to lock with his, her solemn, golden eyes unblinking. “I believe it would matter. Yes.”

Juste flexed his arm and pulled her over him. Their bodies aligned. “Sugar, you aren’t my first.”

“I know that.” Her breath caught when he rubbed a thumb over the slight indention beneath a collarbone. “You would not be so self-assured, so wonderfully perfect had you no experience at all.”

“I’m not perfect,” he replied gruffly. Hell, he wouldn’t even say he was that damn good, but since she seemed to think so, he wasn’t about to tell her any different. But he was done talking. Khepri was warm, her pupils dilated with arousal. Because their time together would be fleeting, he wasn’t wasting a minute on regrets or worrying about whether this was right.

Tangling his fingers in the thick hair at her nape, he pulled her down for a kiss—closed-mouthed, because damn, he wanted it perfect and he hadn’t brushed his teeth. And then he moved away, nipping at her delicate jaw, the lobe of her ear, while she squirmed atop him, her taut belly undulating against his morning erection.

However, urgency ruled him. He didn’t want to concede control while she experimented. Instead, he rolled, tucking her beneath him, his hands guiding her thighs over his hips, then cupping her sweet, round ass as he burrowed himself between her legs, seeking entrance.

The first wet contact made him groan, and he thrust upward, relishing the hitch in her breath and the scrape of her fingernails on his back. He couldn’t get deep enough, fast enough, but she didn’t seem to mind, her body angling to let him slide deeper still. When he was all up inside her warmth, his knees digging into the mattress as he prepared to let loose, he growled and scraped his stubble against her shoulder. “Never felt this way before, Khepri. Hope you know that.”

So, his declaration was tepid, but even giving her those few words wasn’t something he’d ever done.

“I’ve never felt this way either, Justin.” Her hands cupped his face and lifted it.

When his gaze met her eyes, he found shining acceptance. His throat tightened.

Her plump lips smiled. “For as long as this lasts, I am yours.”

His heart broke just a little. An inward twinge pulled inside his chest. And he realized he wanted so much more. For this feeling to last and last. “I’ll take everything you want to give,” he said, his voice so thick the words burned his throat.

Her arms fell open reaching outward, her breasts flared against his chest. An act of pure surrender.

Humbled by her trust, he wished he was a stronger man, that he could pull away and cherish her body with his mouth and fingers the way she deserved, but he was too far gone. He clutched her soft ass harder and began to move, gritting his teeth to to keep the depth of his thrusts reined in until he was sure she could take more.

That sentiment lasted a full five strokes. Eyes closed, she bit her lower lip and moaned, and he was lost, powering into her, rocking the bed with the strength of his surges. Above her, inside her, he felt connected, whole—the past washed clean, forgiven—all because something so exquisite had been given into his care.

His body tightened, the urgency building so swiftly, he knew he wouldn’t last long, but dammit, he wouldn’t find release before she did. She’d called him perfect. He braced on one arm and slid a hand between them, caressing her breast, trailing down her body, watching the way her gaze blurred, listening to her sighs and moans. He scraped over her bare mound, and slid a finger into the top of her cleft. The first touch caused her back to arch. He gently toggled her little bud while wrestling for control of his thrusts, torn between precision and power. “Now, Khepri, dammit, come now.”

Her gaze cleared as she raised her head and kissed his mouth.

He thrust again, and broke the kiss.

She fell back, clutching handfuls of sheet as she arched. “Yes … oh, Justin.”

Sweet God, she was beautiful. The first internal riffle of her orgasm convulsed around him. Freed, he thrust twice more then came, blinded by the intensity of the explosion that reverberated through his body. “Sweet … ah, fuck …”

When he could gather his thoughts again, he lay with his head on her shoulder, her fingers combing through his hair in gentle, scratching strokes.

“I like this nearly as much as I like the orgasms,” she whispered.

Juste grunted. He liked the orgasms a thousand times more, but lying with her soft body cushioning his was very, very nice.

He dragged in a deep breath and reached for his watch on the nightstand. “Shit. That really the time?” He kissed her cheek and rolled away, rising from the bed to pad to his dresser where he grabbed underwear and socks.

“Are we in a hurry?” she asked from behind him.

“I am,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “You can sleep if you like.”

“Am I not needed?” She sat up, pushing her hair behind her ears.

The sheet slipped down, exposing her breasts and dragging his gaze right along with it.

“Do you not want anyone else to observe me and see whether they know me?”

Juste blew out a breath, before forcing his gaze up to her face. “They aren’t gonna know you, are they?”

“Only if they came from the Land of the Dead.”

He nodded. Crazy as that sounded, he took her statement for gospel. “Can I trust you to sit tight here?”

She lifted her shoulders. “Where would I go?”

“Huh. My experience, someone answers a question like that with another question, they don’t plan on behavin’.”

“Must I behave?” she asked, a dark eyebrow arching as the corners of her mouth twitched.

Juste shook his head. “Like I said before,” he muttered. “You’re a fast learner. Almost made me forget what I asked in the first place.”

“I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep. I am on a quest.”

“Best thing to do is sit tight. Tonight, we’ll go to the gala at the museum. See who’s there and what shakes out.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She rolled to her side and pulled his pillow under her cheek, taking a long sniff before snuggling into it.

And damn if he wasn’t horny again. He sucked in another deep breath to calm his heart rate.

The doorbell rang.

“Dammit.” He stepped into his boxers, then headed to the door. Before he reached it, the chime sounded again. Exasperated, he swung the door wide.

Mikey stood on the stoop, his glance dropping, then rising to narrow on his face.

“What are you doin’ here?” Juste shot his gaze across the courtyard.

“Picking you up since your car’s broke down.”

“Car’s fine.”

A broad shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Figured the car was broke down since you’re late.”

“Only half an hour. I overslept.” His fingers tightened on the doorknob. “Since when’s that a crime?”

“Since Maines called. Got his panties in a wad over some call he had from the Egyptian embassy. Wants to see us ASAP.”

The mention of Maines’s name pulled a scowl onto Juste’s face. “I gotta shower.”

Mikey pointed his chin toward Juste’s bedroom door. “Better share the water, but make it fast. Maines wants her, too. I’ll be in the car.”

“Does he know she’s with me?”

Mikey frowned. “No, I said we’d stop by Haddara’s hotel to pick her up on the way.”

From Mikey’s terse delivery, he knew his partner was pissed. Not that Juste could blame him. He’d known there’d be a reckoning at some point. Maybe that tech guy had shown Maines the video of Juste leading Khepri from the crime scene. Maybe he was suspicious about yesterday’s bombing and her role in it. Juste hurried back to the bedroom, but the bed was empty. Water was running in the bathroom.

When he stepped into the shower, he eyed her. She was already soaping her hair. Something else he’d taught her. “You hear?”

“I did. This Maines is someone important?”

“He can cause problems. I’m more worried about the embassy.” He sluiced water over his head and ran his hands over his chest.

She passed him the soap. “The sooner we go there, the sooner you can stop scowling.”

Juste grinned. He hadn’t known it, but he liked a woman who got straight to the point.

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