Marked Clan #2 - Red (7 page)

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Authors: Maurice Lawless

BOOK: Marked Clan #2 - Red
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I grabbed his face in both of my hands, ignoring the discomfort in my left arm. His kisses were getting stronger. I felt his breath against my cheeks. He took my hands in his, and I was sure he was about to stop. He pulled away, but lifted my hands above my head.

“Need to keep it elevated,” he said. “Let me help.”

He pinned my wrists together with one hand and moved his kisses down to my neck, just below the jaw. He sucked gently, biting down just enough to make me squirm. The Boy Scout had some moves after all.

He shifted his body so more of him was on top of me. I felt his excitement rubbing up against my left thigh. He kept my wrists pinned above my head and kissed down to my collarbone, then nuzzled my thin shirt down to the hole over my right breast.

His tongue flicked the exposed skin and my whole body seized up. Fuck, it had been way too long since anyone had done that. I pushed up against him with my hips, rubbing my thigh against the whole firm length of him. Pajamas and scrubs aren’t exactly known for being thick material, so I felt every detail against me.

With his free hand, he snaked down under my shirt and exposed my stomach. He let go of my wrists, but I left them up there anyway. I kind of liked the idea of being at his whim—for now.

He nuzzled down my shirt and touched the bare skin just above my belly button. I jerked involuntarily, and he laughed. “Ticklish?”

“A bit,” I said. I closed my eyes. “Don’t stop, for fuck’s sake.”

He pushed my shirt up farther, and I arched my back so he could get it over my breasts. The air in my room was cold, and soon he had one of my nipples in his mouth. He rolled it between his teeth, not hard, and flicked it with his tongue before enveloping the whole areola in his warm mouth. His free hand kneaded my other breast.

I couldn’t play helpless anymore. I reached down with both hands, grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled. He let me undress him. I opened my eyes and took in every inch as it came into view. He’d seen a little sun, this one. Unlike me though, it had left him with an even, dark shade rather than patches of freckles. He took the opportunity to finish shucking my top as well, and then settled his warm, bare chest against mine.

We kissed, and I explored the muscles in his back with my hands. He put a hand behind my head, and the other slipped down to my lower back, and then cupped my ass. I ground my hips against him in approval. He pushed back, quite happily from what I could feel.

He shifted so his lower body was between my legs, and I slipped my ankles behind his knees, locking our warmth together. Now the full length of him rubbed against me in just the right spot. My breathing was heavy against his neck. I reached up and sucked one of his earlobes in my mouth, holding it there with my teeth as I rolled my hips against him.

We’d pushed our way back on the bed, and I felt the waistband of my pajamas getting lower and lower. The bare skin of his abs rubbed against the top of my mound, and I wanted to tear those thin cotton pants right off him. The hand that was on my ass slipped under the band of my pants, and I helped them down a little further.

Oh, hell yes. Come on, Boy Scout. I ran my hands down his back and pushed. The scrubs didn’t give as easily, and it dawned on me that they probably had a tie in the front. He broke off from our kiss and latched on to my other breast. I used the opportunity to find and undo the offending string tie and push the band of his scrubs down as far as I could.

He popped into my view then, live and kicking. The feel of him against my stomach was amazing. I just hoped he could keep it in that state longer than a few minutes.

He pushed at my pajamas, and I lifted my ass so he could slip them off completely. I lay there for a few tantalizing seconds, exposed and waiting, while he discarded his scrubs. He was neatly trimmed as well, and had little tufts of hair across his chest. A line of black hair led me to points of interest down south. I followed it slowly, soaking in the sights.

He climbed back on the bed, rubbing his chest against my stomach, then up to my breasts. I felt him pressing against my exposed sex. I had a feeling he wouldn’t get much resistance. My ass was already sitting on a damp spot from the effects of our earlier activities.

He held me against him, and we locked into a deep kiss. His fingers massaged my mound, working into my folds and searching for the perfect spot. He found it quickly.

“Oh,” I said, but it came out just a moan with our mouths locked together. He continued to rub that spot, dipping his fingers inside me briefly, and I felt my orgasm building. I grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him out of our kiss.

“Quit playing doctor and get inside me—now!”

He didn’t waste time positioning himself, and as soon as I’d enveloped him tip to hilt, I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked my ankles. He thrust inside as far as he could go, and I dug my nails into his back. If it bothered him, he didn’t show it.

We were both pretty damp now, from head to toe. The temperature of the room must have gone up ten degrees just between our slick, writhing bodies. He pulled out almost completely, and then slammed back inside with one hard thrust. The feeling of emptiness, then fullness, back and forth, built me up again.

The wave came faster than I expected. I pulled him in hard with my thighs and stopped his movement as it hit me. I felt myself clenching him as each wave hit. Then he bucked too, deep inside me. He gave me one last deep, fierce kiss, and then collapsed between my breasts.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not usually that quick. You did something there at the end that just…well did it for me.”

I laughed and ran my hands through his hair. “Mom always said—if you find yourself a doctor, hold on to him tight.”

 

Chapter Twelve

Either the good doctor dosed me or the exertion put me down. Either way I remember waking up much later. No light filtered in through my window. My room was dark, save a sliver of light from the bathroom. I stretched out and turned to the empty side of the bed. Instead of a doctor, there was a single rose, still damp from the vase, and a handwritten note. I held it up to the light.

Had a great time. Sorry to run, but I got called in. Hope to drop in on you again soon.

“He’s quite handsome,” said a woman’s voice from behind me.

I jumped and reached for my gun. It was gone.

“Looking for this?” she asked. She leaned toward me, and light reflected off of her eyes.
Amber.
Fuck me, I’m helpless!

She held Poppa’s gun in one hand and our family album in the other. She flicked on the lamp on my nightstand. The one I saw in the club? Her hair was long and black with streaks of gray. It was the only thing that might have told me her age because her skin was flawless. She also looked a lot like…no.

“I will not hurt you, Margaret,” she said.

“Well, that’s a fine fucking thing to
say
, but pardon me if I’m not particularly trusting of your kind. They tend to want to eat me in the most not-fucking-enjoyable way.”

Was that a hint of a smile on her face? What was this woman’s deal? I pushed myself to the far end of the bed and covered up in the sheets, like that would do anything. She could have taken me in my sleep if she’d really wanted to.

She set the gun down on my nightstand. “Do you know how old that is?”

“I’d say older than both of us, but I don’t think that’s true of you,” I said. Did I still have a spare pen on this side of the room somewhere? I used to keep some under the bed. Could I play nice long enough to look?

“And no one calls me Margaret,” I stalled, “It’s PJ. Why are you here if it’s not to kill me?”

She tapped the album. “You’ve been lied to, PJ.”

“I beg to fucking differ. Poppa was the most honest person I’ve ever known. He always told it like it was, whether it offended people or not.”

The woman nodded. “As do you, I’m sure.”

My fingers felt the edge of the bed behind me. I slipped my left foot under the covers and onto the floor as quietly as I could.

“Enlighten me then,” I said. “What do you think you know?”

She launched herself over the bed in a graceful lunge, landing behind me. I tried to turn around, but her arm was already wrapped around my throat. She spoke softly, her breath tickling the back of my neck.

“I know that I am not your enemy, Margaret Jane. I know that your blood can kill us all, and that you use it to that end. I also know that without my help, you will die. The last of the clean Mackenzie bloodline will die with you.”

The
clean
Mackenzie line? What did she mean by that?

I slammed my head back into her nose as hard as I could, and she recoiled long enough for me to slip free. I bolted for my dresser and the drawer with my epi pens. I had one out and in my hand when I heard a single curt laugh.

“God, you’re so much like Da. Blood really is thicker.”

I turned on her, pen at the ready. Her nose was bloody, but I knew whatever superficial damage I’d caused was already healed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about that right now, PJ. Look, you will at least agree that had I come here to kill you, I could have done it while you slept, yes?”

“Agreed.”

She wiped the blood off her nose and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. She wore a tracksuit with the top unzipped, and her feet were bare. She kicked one foot against the wall in an absentminded way. The way she did it…no. Why did my brain insist on going there?

“I’ve been hunting my kind for a long time, PJ. There are things you need to know to help you finish them off.”

Wait, what?

“I’d say you sound like a crazy bitch, but…Why would you help me? Isn’t that kind of, you know, counter-productive?”

She pushed off from the wall and unzipped the jacket of her tracksuit. I saw she was naked underneath. Was she getting ready to change?

“Whoa, there, lady! What the fuck—”

She dropped the jacket and turned around, pulling her long hair out of the way. The tattoos on her back were similar to all the wolves I’d killed, but I recognized the runes. They were the same as Dree, down to the order and configuration. Hers were faded, though.

“You’re Slate,” I said. “Lupin’s bitch.”

“Yes.”

She picked up her jacket, but didn’t put it back on. I gave her a wide berth as she walked around the bed. She held her hands in front of her and moved deliberately slow.

“I do not wish you harm. On the contrary, I very much want you to succeed. Ours is a cursed line, a blight on the world. You’ve accomplished much in a short time, but you need to learn more about the hunt. I can teach you.”

“What does Dree think of all this?” I asked.

Slate sighed and slipped her jacket back on. “She doesn’t know I’m here. She thinks we can live in peace. I am not so optimistic.”

“Wait, let me get this straight—you don’t just want me to wipe out the
other
wolves. You want them all gone. Including you, Lupin, and Dree?”

She nodded. “You have no idea what this life is like. It’s an abomination.”

“Well that’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with.”

I kept the pen at my side, but relaxed my grip just a bit. She turned and walked into my kitchen, moving silently.

“I still don’t want your help,” I said.

She shook her head and gave another curt laugh. On her way out the door she muttered, “Whit’s fur ye’ll no go past ye, PJ.”

My brain tried to pound its way past my forehead.
No, that makes no fucking sense at all. There’s no way she reminds me of my mother.

Chapter Thirteen

Justin sent me directions to our next date in a text message, but I didn’t think he was serious. A skating rink? What were we, twelve? Did he expect me to hold hands with him and do the hokey-pokey under the disco ball? I found the address anyway. I pulled into the parking lot at six, and the crowd that had gathered outside was not what I expected.

Twenty-something men and women milled around the front door, some in multicolored tights and fishnet stockings. Girls on skates went through the crowd passing out flyers and chatting people up. The girls wore full protective gear – elbow pads, knee pads, and wrist guards. Some carried brightly-decorated helmets as well. What kind of skating was this going to be?

"Not what you expected, is it?" Justin said behind me.

"No," I said without turning around. "I can’t say that I saw this coming. What is it?"

He slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. He felt nice and warm. "Roller derby. It’s the season opener for this league."

"Roller derby? Like that stuff people used to watch in the fifties?"

Justin laughed. "Not quite. Think less
Beaver Cleaver
and more
Thunderdome.
"

"So it’s not real?"

"Oh, it’s real," he laughed. "And I wouldn’t say otherwise once we get inside. Some folks are kind of touchy. These girls are athletes, and it’s a full-contact sport."

This I had to see. Justin bought us wristbands and we went inside. At least something was what I expected – the roller rink looked like it hadn’t changed its carpet or wall decorations since about 1985. Neon confetti patterns on a dingy blue background covered the floor and day-glo stars adorned the walls.

Not all of it was teenage nostalgia. I heard metal music being piped through the speakers in the ceiling, and everyone seemed to have a beer but us. The crowd gathered along the waist-high walls that surrounded the skate floor and watched as groups of those same brightly-dressed skaters made warm-up laps.

The floor was taped off to create a kind of oval race track, with benches off to one side. I saw that the girls outside had tame outfits compared to the ones already on the track. Any surface that could be tacked with stickers or painted like a custom car was decked out in the girls’ numbers. The names on their jerseys were just as over-the-top.

"
Poke-a-Hot-Ass
, really?" I laughed. The girl in question wore frilled socks and had feathers sticking out of the back of her helmet. I had to admit, she wore her name well in spandex hot pants. "I can see why you enjoy this."

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