Dark Mysteries (17 page)

A
strange silence fell before Ellie got up the nerve to ask what she
had been dreading. “You're not going to tell him?”

“No...
not now anyway. If he needs to know, I will.”

“Thank
you,” she said, amazed that there were good people in the
world. People willing to keep her secrets. Keep her safe. First K.
Then Xander. Faith. Gabe. The list just kept growing and she felt so
unworthy.

“So,
that's all settled...” Gabe said, putting his hands on the
table.

“Not
so fast,” Ellie cut in, and he paused.

“What?”

“How
do you know who I am?”

Gabe
offered her a weird smile. “I have a friend in Jersey. Bail
bonds like me. He had a bond on one of Nicola's enforcers. He didn't
want to do it alone...”

“Which
one?” Ellie asked.

“Antony,”
Gabe said, shrugging like it was no big deal. But it was a very big
deal. Antony who had blood on his hands. Bodies piled up behind him.
“But he was always around Nicola and Bobby and all the others.
So, we followed him for a while. You were in the picture more than
once.”

“You
got your guy,” she said, nodding. She remembered how furious
Nick had been. Pacing the room like a caged tiger while she curled
into herself on the bed. He'd thrown her onto her back and had hard,
punishing sex with her because of it.

“And
you got away,” Gabe said, watching her eyes slip from haunted
to neutral, impressed at how easily she slipped into her guards.
“Well... Ellie,” he said, using her chosen name. “I'm
glad we cleared that all up.”

“Why
is the fucking door unlocked?” Xander yelled from the office
and Ellie laughed. Quietly, to herself. He must think she was the
biggest incompetent there was. Little did he know. “Oh,
Gabe...
what are you doing
here?” he asked, throwing the newspapers in his hand onto the
bed. He walked further into the room and stopped, looking at Gabe
with lowered brows. “What the hell happened to your face?”

Gabe
smiled, winking at Ellie. “I seemed to have startled your
little guard dog here,” he explained, holding out Xander's
brass knuckles.

Xander
took them, looking between them and Gabe and Ellie a few times
before, finally, throwing his head back and laughing. He moved the
weapon around in his hand for a second, looking up at Ellie. “Good
girl,” he said, nodding at her.

She
wanted to rip his clothes of right then and there. In front of Gabe.
It didn't matter. She just wanted him.

Instead,
she took a breath and went into the kitchen, carefully making a fresh
pot of coffee. Putting on tea. Cleaning up her cleaning supplies.
Washing her hands. Trying to think of anything but getting Xander
into bed.

Thirteen

It
was the nightmares again. That was what was to blame. The stupid,
chronic memories that she repressed during her waking hours and
tormented her while she slept.

She
woke up yelling, her arms being constricted and she fought against
the restraint.

“Hey,
sweetheart, hey,” Xander's voice called.

She
opened her eyes immediately, looking around the dark room
frantically. Xander's. She was at Xander's And Xander was standing
above her, holding onto her shoulders. Probably because he had been
trying to shake her awake. She bolted upright quickly, setting her
feet on the floor, and leaning forward, resting her head against the
warm skin of his stomach, just above the waistband of his pajama
pants.

Xander
stood there dumbly for a long second, too shocked to move. His hands
slowly slid. One moving across her back, rubbing at the tension, the
other to the back of her head, tangling in her long soft hair. “It's
okay,” he murmured, taking shallow breaths. “I'm here.”

Okay.
Maybe it wasn't the nightmares. It was definitely those two words
that did it.
I'm here.
Two words that held so much meaning.
I'm here for you. I'm not leaving you. You're safe with me. Nothing
can hurt you when you're with me.

Yeah.
That was what did it. Because it was so lovely to have someone there
for you. Someone who, however momentarily, cared more about your
needs than their own.

She
stood up slowly, her breath warming his skin as she rose to full
height, her head underneath his chin. She slid her fingers up and
down his ribs, making him grit his teeth against the sudden and
intense arousal.

What
was she trying to do to him?

Ellie
tilted her head upward, looking into his face. The tense jaw. The
bewildered eyes. The hand in her hair tensed, turning into a fist.
She went up on her tiptoes. But still unable to reach his mouth
unless he leaned down, she tilted her head to the side and ran a line
of kisses down the side of his neck. She smiled against his skin when
his breath hissed out of his mouth.

“Ellie,”
he said, his voice a warning. We shouldn't do this. It isn't smart.

But
she was done playing it safe. And doing what was smart and prudent.
She wanted to wrap herself around him and feel something. Experience
something new.

“Just
kiss me,” she said, feeling her cheeks get hot at her boldness.

Xander
gritted his teeth. He was trying to do the right thing. Be a
gentlemen. As foreign a concept as that was to him. And he really
didn't have much self-restraint left. Especially if she kept kissing
his neck like that. Oh, god, was that her tongue? Xander closed his
eyes and mentally worked through the sevens times tables before he
spoke. “You're just... worked up because you had bad dreams.
Ellie...”

“Just
shut up,” she said, smiling up at him, her eyes rolling. What
was wrong with him? She was standing there... literally asking for
it. Actually, begging for it. And he was trying to talk her out of
it?

“It's
a bad idea,” he said firmly.

“But
those are the best kinds,” she said, almost giggling.

Xander
looked down at her then, the brightness in her shockingly blue eyes,
the smile playing at her lips, and he found himself smiling back
despite his better judgment. “Yeah they are,” he agreed,
bending down and crushing his lips into hers.

She
felt the contact like a bolt shooting down her body and out through
her feet, everything tingling in the aftermath. Her arms went up
around his neck, pulling him down, lifting herself up. Getting
closer. That's all she could think. She needed him closer. She needed
to throw everything of herself into him.

Xander
made a low, growling sound deep in his throat, feeling her surrender
like an explosion of desire deep in his center. His fingers twisted
in her hair, pulling her head backward, giving him more access. He
nipped at her lower lip, sinking his teeth in just short of painful.
When she sighed, he moved his tongue inside, toying with hers and
retreating until she made a low, pleading whimper.

His
hands moved down her back, grabbing her hips and holding her tight
against him as he walked toward the bed.

The
backs of Ellie's knees hit the mattress, just as Xander's hands
released her hips, sending her falling backward. Her stomach clenched
momentarily until she fell back on the soft material, laughing up at
the ceiling.

This
was how it was supposed to be. Sexy, yes. But also fun. Silly. Real.

Xander
was still standing at the side of the bed, looking down at her with
some unreadable expression. She propped herself up, reaching one arm
forward and grabbing the elastic hand of his pajama pants, and
pulling him forward. He obliged slightly, leaning his knees against
the edge of the mattress.

Ellie
sat up, her face level with his stomach. With a smirk, she leaned
forward and ran a line of kisses across his stomach, the muscles
twitching slightly under her exploration. Her fingers slipped to the
waistband, starting to pull down slowly.

Xander
chuckled, a low, rolling sound in his chest. His big hands went down
to cover hers, stopping the motion. “Uh uh, doll,” he
said, smiling at her defiant expression. He was already half-naked.
She was fully clothed. It was time to even things up. He squeezed her
hands for a second and pulled them away, placing them on the mattress
on the sides of her body.

His
hands rested on her knees, squeezing for a second, before sliding up
her thighs, moving out toward her hips and toying with the ends of
her t-shirt. He watched her eyes. He needed to take it easy. His
movements needed to be slow, non-threatening. If she so much as
flinched, he was done. But he saw nothing in her big eyes but desire.
Want. So he grabbed the thin material, ever so slowly inching it off
her body.

Her
hands went up over her head, waiting for him to pull the material
which suddenly felt itchy and heavy, off her body.

Xander
watched as her skin revealed itself to his eyes, soft and pale.
Flawless. He smiled as he threw the t-shirt on the floor. She was
wearing a gray and white bra. Who the hell wore a bra to bed? He
wanted to reach behind her and flick the clasps and pull the barrier
away. But he needed to take his time, he reminded himself, reaching
out to stroke the outer sides of her body. Her ribs looked better,
the bruises healing to a reddish and yellow. He watched her face as
his fingers traced the outlines. “Does this hurt?” he
asked.

Ellie
shook her head, her chest too heavy to finds the words. No. Nothing
hurt. Everything felt good. Right. Perfect.

His
fingers moved toward the center of her stomach, making her twitch and
squirm away, swatting at his hands and giggling. “You're
ticklish?” he asked, a little too excited-sounding at the
prospect.

“Don't
you dare,” she warned, her eyes wide. Knowing what was coming.
Knowing there was nothing she could to do about it.

Xander's
mouth quirked up at a side, half challenge, half amusement. He was
going to enjoy it. “You... dare me?” he asked, smirking
higher, his fingers coming down on the area by her hipbone hollows
and digging in.

Ellie
squealed, her hands flying on top of his, her eyes closing. Trying to
breathe through it. Knowing it never worked. Xander's fingers
wiggled, making her toss around on the bed, gasping for breath,
listening to Xander's laugh: loud, boyish, playful. It might have
been the sexist sound she had ever heard. Even if he was in the
middle of an obnoxious round of tickle torture with her midsection.

“Say
uncle and it's over,” he teased, brushing his fingers over her
ribs.

“Never,”
she strangled out, tossing herself onto her stomach.

Xander
scooted closer, straddling the sides of her hips, pressing down on
her ass, holding her in place. His fingers pressed a little harder,
more sensual than playful, rubbing across her lower back. Ellie
brought her arms up, resting her face against her hands and sighing.

His
fingers pressed and kneaded into her knots, brushed whispers in other
areas, making her shiver and feel like she was sinking into the
mattress, into the sensations. She hadn't even noticed he had
unclasped her bra until she felt his fingers brushing the material
toward the sides of her body, giving him full access. He worked on
her shoulders for a long time, making her feel almost sleepy before
she felt his weight shift, his hand brushing her hair to the side a
split second before his lips rested at the base of hr neck.

Her
fingers dug into the blanket, moaning. His mouth moved in a straight
line down the center of her back and before he had even made it
halfway down, she felt herself trembling. So unaccustomed to being
touched that she was overwhelmed by the contact. By the time his lips
brushed the skin just above her pants, she was clutching her thighs
together.

His
weight lifted up off her slightly, enough for her to move, pushing
herself up, the arms of her bra falling forward and she slipped her
wrists out. Without him touching her, she felt the insecurity
slipping in past the desire. The realization that no one had seen her
naked in years. And the only person before that was Nick.

As
if sensing her reservations, his hand moved to her hip, his fingers
light but not tickling. Reassuring. “Look at me, baby,”
he said, more of a question than a demand.

Ellie
took a breath, moving a hand across her chest to cover her breasts
and rolling back onto her back.

Xander
smiled down at her with her hand draped to cover herself. She was
killing him. And he was enjoying every last second of it.

He
lowered himself down on her pelvis, giving Ellie a view of him in all
of his masculine glory. His dark hair mussed from sleep, the scruff
on his face, desire in his eyes. His wide shoulders and chest that
tapered only slightly toward his waist. Everything about him was
thick and solid, the muscles pressing against his skin like there
wasn't enough room to hold in all the strength. Her eyes grazed over
the long scar up his side, finding an odd sort of kinship and comfort
in it. They both had scars. They both had pasts. And in that moment
right then... none of that mattered. She let her eyes sink lower, a
strange fluttering in her belly when she saw his cock pushing hard
against the fabric of his pants, straining to be free.