Mercer's Siren (2 page)

She looked a bit amused at his reaction to her treatment option. “That’s funny. Your records state you’re not allergic to Zingers.”

“No, I’m not,” he sighed. “What I hate… is the flavor.”

Cherry. He hated it. He tried finding other flavors of Zinger, but the manufacturer seemed to be hellbent on tormenting him. To add insult to injury, the taste additives on the viscous liquid were the kind that stayed on your tongue for close to an hour, no matter how much whiskey passed the palate.

Her lips quirked in the sexiest little grin. One with a healthy amount of amusement at his expense. “Yeah, well you wanna play with the big boys, you take the consequences. Either that or develop a metabolism like Haye.”

Garrett knew there was no escaping this part, not unless he wanted to endure his hangover. Sometimes he could, if he felt particularly hateful of cherries that day, but today he was sore enough from the melee last night, he wasn’t willing to suffer.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

The smile on her face didn’t show even the tiniest shred of sympathy. “Don’t be such a baby.”

Resigned to his fate, he sighed and held out his hand for the ampoule. Easily snapping off the stem with a practiced thumb, he raised the small vial in salute to his caregiver and tossed it back like a tiny shot of tequila.

“Ugh!” he exclaimed in disgust as he quickly swallowed the liquid. The expression on his face must have been comical because his goddess was looking ridiculous, trying not to laugh. “That’s disgusting.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” she replied, her voice more melodic with her barely stifled laughter. “It tastes a bit like cherry candy.”

“I hate cherries,” he groused. “Hell, even if I gargle bleach it’ll take forever to get the taste out of my mouth.”

“That's a shame. I like them.”

Garrett lifted his chin to look at her, eyebrow arched curiously. “Seriously? You’re not just messing with me are you, gorgeous?”

The angel shook her head. “No, I happen to enjoy them. When I eat cake, sometimes I leave the cherry for last.”

Suddenly he could see her now holding that maraschino cherry by the stem and slowly taking it past those luscious red lips… He couldn’t help it. He groaned.

Instantly, she frowned, moving closer to check the readouts on the screen above his head. “Okay, hotshot, where’s the pain?”

Lower baby. Much lower.
Garrett had been tempted to automatically reply as he watched her consult her display and then take a closer look into his eyes as if they would tell her what was wrong. Seriously, she didn’t know what kind of effect she had on him?

“Right on my back,” he managed to effect a slightly pained tone of voice. “Just below my neck.” He cheered inwardly as her hands slid to his nape and started moving lower, following his directions. “Yeah, that’s it. Lower, a little more… there.”

By the time both her hands reached their mark, he couldn’t help himself and smiled as the realization of her nearness became apparent on her beautiful face. She stood between his legs, close enough for him to feel her warmth and the puff of her breath against his jaw as she all but wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Hi.” It was all he said.

Chapter Two

“Fucking, sneaky-ass humans,” Sedj cursed as she realized she’d been played. Then she smiled, a little quirk of her lips. “So, now exactly what do you plan to do?”

She tilted her head to the side, watching him. Even seated, he was a little taller than she was. And he was cute, very cute. Also, which was a bonus, while he was human, he wasn’t the asshole who’d loved and left her. She’d long ago stopped judging them all based on one bad pear...or was it apple? She never could remember.

"Well, let's say I plan to get rid of my dislike of cherries," he drawled.

She was barely aware of his hands settling on her waist and drawing her against him. She couldn't say the same about the hardness pressing into her belly that made her knees weak. Still, she managed to find her voice. "How do you plan on doing that?"

If actions spoke louder than words, then the way his lips slid over hers in a perfect fit screamed his intent. Her muffled gasp of surprise softened into a moan as she fell under his spell. Gods could the man kiss. He knew exactly what he was doing and gave no illusions about it. But far from an imposition it was a seduction.

And to think he wasn’t fully recovered yet.

Firm but patient, he kissed like they had all the time in the world. He tasted like cherries, toothpaste, and every dirty thought she’d ever had. Every bit of suction, the subtlest swipe of his tongue along the seam of her lips, teasing her until she gave in and yielded her mouth to him. With her surrender, he took what he pleased and gave what she wanted in turn.

“I thought… you weren’t... feeling good yet?” she managed between kisses.

“You’re getting me there, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips.

She pulled back to look at him. His blue eyes were open, honest, not hiding his intent. More than that, her gut insisted she could trust him. And she needed to...wanted to. Long dormant feminine instincts kicked into high gear and heat swirled through her veins. She hadn’t done this for...over two years. And he didn’t know she was Hanorian, the distinctive red hair of her species carefully hidden by a genetic patch to turn it dark brown. So he wasn’t in this for kicks just because she was a siren. He liked her as a woman.

And she wasn’t on the clock, not yet. So why not?

“Really? My, don’t you get revved up and ready to go quickly?”

“Sweetheart, I’d dare you to time me with a stopwatch, but I don’t want to distract you.”

Suddenly it was as if she was only aware of his gaze for the first time. His eyes locked onto hers, keeping her in place and holding her attention so she was barely aware of his touch, not until he had softly squeezed her arms still resting on his shoulders, her hands on the back of his neck.

“Don’t. Move.”

“I’ll try.”

Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes briefly, but quickly went away as the game was now afoot.

In the brief moments available to her during their banter, she’d prepared herself for whatever he would do. Still, her breath caught as his fingers slid along the expanse of her midriff left bare by her upraised arms.

“You know, I’m thinking,” he mused softly as his thumbs traced her skin where it met the waistband of her skirt. “With how amazing you feel on my fingertips, I can only imagine the taste of your skin. Pretty sure if I poured cherry syrup all over you and licked it off, you might get me to love the stuff.”

“Hmmm,” she pursed her lips. “Now that could be a viable method of treatment to get you over your aversion to zingers. What would be easier, of course, would be for you to avoid so much alcohol. It’s not safe for a human to drink so much and I’d rather not rebuild your liver, hotshot.”

She was waffling, something she did when she was nervous. Was she nervous? Kinda. It had been a long time. His hands traced her waistband and found the zipper at the side. The rasp as he pulled it down filled the small room and a second later her skirt hit the deck plating. “Well, would you look at that? Zippers these days aren’t what they used to be. Damned thing let itself down. Must be broken…”

* * *

“Maybe you can get a refund,” he murmured. “But honestly, I love the new minimalist look.”

He didn't even pretend to struggle whether or not to look down, Garrett openly lowered his gaze and admired the view. She might not have been Amazonian tall, but her legs were flawless and looked like they stretched forever, the low-heeled sandals on her feet adding a bit more credence to the effect.

But all that skin brought his eyes right onto the prize. Sheer black lace concealed fewer square inches than the span of his hand. The sight made his breath quicken and his pants decidedly uncomfortable. His angel had a dark side, not to mention an excellent taste in lingerie.

Delicately, she stepped out from the wisp of fabric that had pooled on the floor, kicking it away. Her movements were graceful and lithe, but as she moved, the silver shadow of a long scar down her thigh played peekaboo with the light. Despite himself, he let out a sigh of relief. At least she wasn’t the same species as Haye. Not that he had anything against people’s species, but in an amorous situation, it was a little emasculating when your partner could bench press surface-to-space flyers.

Both his heads argued with each other. The smaller one demanded he tear off what was left of her clothes, toss her on the bed and have his way ‘til neither of them could lift a finger. The other head, the one he didn’t use as much in these situations, told him that was a stupid ass idea. You don’t go chugging fine wine; you savor it.

But while the argument went on, his body had other ideas. As if presented with a priceless work of art and granted the privilege of touching it for the first time, Garrett’s finger lightly traced an invisible line up her thigh. He hadn’t moved fast so she had been expecting it, but he had to smile at seeing her shudder at the intimate contact.

Smooth. Silky. Supple. Warm and as he made his way north, hotter and hotter. But just before he reached that lace-shrouded juncture, he stopped and for a moment so did her breathing as it seemed.

“You know I hope you weren’t kidding about that offer of yours,” Garrett spoke as his finger lightly traced hieroglyphics into the velvet canvas of her inner thigh.

“Which one?” She sounded breathless.

“Getting over that cherry thing.” His other hand slid up and slowly made short work of the buttons on her blouse. “Right now, I’m imagining ripping off the rest of your clothes, pouring cherry syrup all over your body and licking it off ‘til it’s all gone.”

Sedj shuddered again. “Sounds like… a lot of fun.”

“Yeah,” he smiled wistfully as he undid the last button and parted the front of her garment. “Too bad we don’t have any syrup handy.” He had to pause in thought and deed as the sight served to stun him momentarily. More black lace as sheer as mist. Creamy white mounds straining against their confinement. He had pictured them in his head, but the reality far outweighed his imagination.

His finger moved higher and hooked itself into the waistband of her panties. “On the other hand,” he murmured as he leaned forward. A gasp caught in her throat and her arms went rigid as he exhaled a breath of hot moist air directly over the hard nub trying to poke through the wispy cup of her brassiere. “Milk and honey will do for now.”

He closed the distance and his parted lips pressed into the soft giving mound in a hot kiss.

She tipped her head back, hair cascading down her back apart from one curl that looped over his hand on her breast. Clinging as though begging for attention. His free hand encircled her waist, tinier than it looked and pulled her in tighter. She was small and delicate in his arms, something that made him shudder and try to shut down the primitive caveman part of his brain.

“Computer, lock door.” Her voice was little more than a ragged whisper, but the computer heard. “Authorization Red-seven-seven-three-four-delta.”

He smiled against the soft skin. She was cool under pressure. He liked that. But how much could she take?

Using both his hands, it wasn’t long before her blouse joined her skirt on the floor. He took his time, nibbling and kissing her soft mounds. As he undid her bra, his lips trapped her nipple through the lace, an act threaded with impatience as his tongue rasped back and forth making her softly cry out.

Then there was nothing in the way as he slid the undergarment down her arms while her thong failed to provide substantial protection against his questing hand. And as he drew her nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth, her nether lips welcomed his finger in kind as he slowly sank into her wet molten depths.

Her soft cry was sweet music to his ears. The little shimmy of her hips as he pushed deeper into her almost undid his control there and then. Mentally steeling himself, he flicked his tongue over her nipple and prayed to whatever god that might be listening and still recognized his existence that his control held.

He swore he could taste cherries, his hyperactive imagination supplying his lust-addled mind with things he would normally consider wishful thinking. As his fingers dipped into her core, the velvet walls clinging to him, ten feminine digits buried into his hair, tightening in time to his gentle but imperative strokes. He wasn’t sure if she was holding on or keeping him still or both, but he loved it. More so when she mewled with need as his thumb circled her clit.

His breath puffed against her skin as he drew back, looking up at her half-lidded eyes. Holding her gaze, he slid his fingers out of her silken sheath and enfolded the honey dipped digits past his lips, sucking her dew off. He let out a low moan of approval as her sweet flavor filled his mouth and fogged his mind.

Fuck the cherries. He could get addicted to this. Hand to her neck, he drew her to him as his tongue sought the taste of her kisses.

Deftly he slowly turned them, their kiss interrupted as he laid her on the medical bed. He smiled softly, their eyes meeting briefly as his gaze toured the vision of her loveliness. Brushing her hair away from her face, he leaned down and began a journey with his lips starting with hers and heading down. His hands were far from idle, stroking her body, awed by the softness of her skin and the fact he was allowed to touch a creature like her.

She shivered delightfully under his touch, her skin like satin, the feel of which had to be designed to test his control. The male animal within roared at him to speed up, take what they needed and damned the consequences, but he held it in check. Her hands smoothed over his shoulders, delicate little touches that only served to increase his arousal and awareness. Time slowed and he wanted to keep it that way.

He made his way down her abdomen, tumultuous as the rolling waves of the sea with her erratic breaths. The tempest grew as he cradled her breasts, the soft orbs warming and filling his hands while his tongue teasingly dipped into her navel. Then he ventured lower still. Like the sound of thunder heralding a coming storm, her gasp echoed in the room as he found her wet… then warm, sweet, addicting.