Night Betrayed (14 page)

“I’ve been working on them for longer than you can imagine. I’m kind of a genius with computers and electronics.” The flicker of a smile returned to his lips and eyes. “My twin brother and I both are.”

“There are two of you?” The horrified words slipped out before she realized it. Then she laughed a little at the delighted expression on his face. “You must have turned your mother’s hair white by the time you were ten.”

“Somehow Lou doesn’t come across as reckless as people seem to think I am.”

“You don’t think you’re reckless?” she asked incredulously.

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” he replied. Then he raised his gaze and their eyes locked. “Thanks to you,” he added, his voice pitching lower.

Her throat dried and all she could remember was being pulled up against his solid, very unchildlike body last night. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were alone. Again. And he was looking at her in a certain way.

No more pity kisses.

“Last night was definitely not a pity kiss,” he said. “Selena.”

“Did I say that out loud?” she said, then clamped her mouth closed. “Yes,” he replied, that smile playing about his lips. He stood now, shoving the wheeled chair away behind him. He seemed taller than she remembered. And broader. And whatever annoyance he might have had about her disappearing back in Yellow Mountain seemed also to have evaporated. “I have to tell you,” Theo said, standing there in front of her, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

He shook his head, folding his arms over his torso, continuing conversationally—as if they were talking about the weather and he didn’t quite understand why it was raining when the sun had been shining all day. “I find I’m fascinated by you, about what you’re sneaking out for at night, what you’re wearing around your neck that you don’t want anyone to see . . . what it’s like being the Death Lady and holding the hands of people dying, and how you do it every day without fail.” He nodded, his eyes holding hers. “How you got to be so strong, and why you do what you do. And other things, like the fact that you don’t eat very much and that you like to run in the morning—Vonnie told me that—and how you both ended up here, with Frank. And where in the hell you got red toenail polish.”

Selena realized her mouth had dropped open slightly—not enough that she was slack-jawed but, rather, sort of relaxed in surprise. “Um,” she said, trying to tamp down the warmth that was flushing through her. She was all trembly all of a sudden and her stomach was all aflutter. Good grief.

And then . . . He’s fricking serious. He really wants to know about me. Both delight and terror rushed through her.

“And about Sam’s father, and whether he’s still around and why he isn’t,” Theo continued. “Whether it was your decision or his or what. And,” he stepped closer to her, “how I’m going to make it clear to you that I don’t give pity kisses. Not even for women who bring me back to life.” His hands landed gently on her shoulders and she felt his shoe bump against her bare toes.

“How many of them do you have?” she managed to say, realizing belatedly that her hands had risen and settled flat onto his broad, warm chest. Wow. Solid as a brick wall.

“How many of what?”

“Women who bring you back to life.”

“Only one.” He started to lean in, then stopped and pulled back. Selena released the breath she’d been holding, startled out of the warmth he’d lulled her into. “Make that two.”

“What?” she asked, her voice rising—partly in surprise and partly to hide her disappointment. “You’ve been brought back to life before?”

His lips curved and one of his hands shifted to flick a heavy lock of hair off her shoulder, then slid along its length. “Well, technically, yes. When I was a baby, the umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck and I came out blue everywhere, limp as a wet noodle. Heart stopped and everything. There was a nurse who did CPR—she breathed inside my mouth—and brought me back to life.”

“A nurse?”

“But don’t worry,” he added quickly, “I don’t remember the incident at all. So for all intents and purposes,” he said, slipping his hand around the back of her neck, lifting her hair, cupping her skull, “you’re the only woman who brought me back to life. And this is most definitely not a pity kiss.”

She met him halfway as his lips moved to add, “ . . . at least on my end.”

Selena’s laugh was smothered by his mouth. She closed her eyes as their lips met, softly at first and then hungrily. He held her head with strong fingers as the kiss turned deep and sleek. Beneath her own palms, the planes of his chest shifted and his heart bumped fiercely.

He didn’t feel like a kid to her, not now, not with this demand and confidence, not with the solid muscle and strength against her. Her body had turned warm and liquid, awakening from a dormancy due to neglect. Selena stopped questioning, stopped resisting, and when his hands moved down along her back, following the line of her torso, she eased into him, molding her body into his.

Why not? Why not enjoy this? It’s been too long.

He’s so young!

And he’ll be leaving any day now. No problem.

He makes me laugh.

Theo gave a soft little groan and shifted, pushing her back against something solid, holding her there so their bodies lined up, imprinting every curve and every rise into the other. If she had any lingering doubt about pity kisses, it was effectively erased at that point. His desire was blatant, and the gentle, insistent pressure as their hips ground together had her pressing just as hard back into him.

“Geeezz . . . uzz,” he muttered, disentangling their mouths and burying his face into the hair by her ear. “Selena . . .” He breathed roughly, nipping and sucking along the line of her neck so that she twitched and shuddered against him.

She murmured her pleasure, sliding her hands under his shirt, feeling the flat slabs of his pecs and skimming over the tight nipples, aware of the faint trembling beneath her fingers, deep in his muscles. He was warm and sleek and her world had turned hot and bold . . . so much that she hardly realized when he pulled back, tugging her with him.

The next thing she knew, he pulled her onto his lap, her toes bumping the base of the chair as she straddled him. Theo grinned briefly up at her, but his mouth was tight and his eyes hot as he slipped his hands beneath her loose shirt. She resisted instinctively when he tried to lift it—No, no, not in the light!—and he seemed to get the message, instead moving to her spine.

As her bra loosened and sagged, Selena arched toward him, half aware of the hot sun streaming through the window on her behind and the way his hands moved around to cover her breasts. Ahhh. His thumbs were firm and his palms warm as he lifted, pressed, stroked.

Now she had her hands on his shoulders for stability, her eyes closed, allowing the pleasure to grow and roll, unfurling from belly to chest to between her legs, where she pressed against him. His hair was warm and soft, thick beneath her fingers . . . his shoulders wide and square.

Theo moved beneath her as he bent and pulled the vee of her tunic to the side, finding one of her nipples and covering it with his warm, sleek mouth.

Selena jolted at the spike of sensation, then gasped as it didn’t stop, didn’t relent . . . but became a long, slick tug, a sensual dance of tongue and lips sucking, swirling, stroking. The hot shaft of pleasure arced through her, from her belly down south. She shifted on his lap, her fingers digging into his shoulders, heat and pressure building and throbbing between them.

Suddenly, he released her with a soft groan, leaving her nipple wet and throbbing, chafing back beneath her tunic. Pulling her up against him, his arms bundling her close, he slammed his mouth over hers once more. The kiss burned, deep and fierce, as his hands shifted down to her hips and jerked her close, into him, settling her legs wide against him. She felt the throbbing settle between them, his erection hard and waiting, she herself full and wet, the seams of their jeans meeting and intensifying the sensation.

And then, once again, he was shifting her, and once again, she moved at his direction—hazy, full, aroused—her legs coming together, sliding to one side of him. Before she knew it, he’d jammed his fingers down beneath the loosened fly of her jeans, down beneath the hot cotton of her panties, and into the sleek warmth that pulsed there.

They both groaned and sighed at the same time, and Selena’s eyes flew open when he first touched her. She nearly jolted off his lap, but he held her steady, safely, his fingers so long and easy, sliding and stroking where she was full and ready.

Oh God . . . She held on to him, lifted her hips as her jeans opened wider, feeling the stream of hot sun blasting through the window over her head and shoulders. His fingers . . . a wide, determined plane, curling and slipping, coaxing smoothly and evenly, as his own breath hitched and roughened against her ear.

“Yes,” he whispered into her skin. “That’s . . . it.”

As she released herself, sliding wholly, into the pleasure, it took a moment before the sound registered in the depths of her lust-fogged mind. But then, all of a sudden, she heard it.

“Mom?”

It took a moment before Theo heard it.

“Mom?”

And then another second before it registered.

Selena, who had been a soft, sensual bundle in his arms, stiffened—and her eyes flew open just as Theo realized the “mom” was the woman on his lap. The woman whose pants his hand was down, whose flushed face and swollen lips were a breath away from him, whose tight, unfettered nipples thrust through the light fabric of her shirt.

Holy crap.

He grabbed Selena’s arm to steady her wild escape as she scrambled off him, and managed to keep her from stumbling into a heap against the wall. His brain wasn’t functioning at optimal levels quite yet; his breathing was still irregular; and his jeans, full of a massive hard-on that, only moments before, had been anticipating a happy ending. He stood and jammed his hands in his pockets to make the necessary adjustments for both comfort and obscurity.

“Mom? Are you up here?”

“Yes,” Selena called back. She was standing by the window, just done buttoning her jeans. Her voice was unbelievably calm and steady. For someone who’d been writhing and moaning on his lap only moments earlier, she sure looked in control. Hardly ruffled at all, except for the sheen of damp on her full lips, and hair that looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed. And . . . oh, crap . . . the outline of one nipple poking damply through the thin tunic.

Sam and one of his other friends—Tim? Tyler? Tom?—suddenly appeared, walking across the long room. Theo gave a moment of thanks that he and Selena had been tucked behind a computer station in a corner not immediately visible from the door.

“Nana Vonnie wanted me to tell you there is lunch,” Sam said. He glanced around the room, but his attention settled on Theo, and then Selena—who, thank God, had adjusted her tunic—and then back to Theo, who tried to ignore the suspicion in the teenager’s eyes—after all, he couldn’t have seen anything.

But when the look of shock, followed by revulsion, blanched over Sam’s face, Theo realized the kid must have sensed something. He hoped like hell it wasn’t the musky smell of sex that clung to Theo’s fingers, permeating his consciousness, at least.

“Thanks, honey,” Selena said, looking perfectly at ease, in spite of . . . Crap—Now Selena’s loose bra was clearly showing through the deep vee of her tunic. “I’m getting hungry, too,” she replied, “but when I came up to let Theo know, we got talking about all the things in here.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied, flat disbelief in his voice.

He was a handsome kid, with dark blond hair and hazel eyes. Well over six feet, but still had lots of filling out to do. Probably sixteen or so, maybe seventeen. Just getting into manhood, still trying to figure out what to do with all those hormones he’d been dealing with for the last few years. And the last thing he probably wanted in his mind was the image of his mother screwing around with some guy who was not his father.

Or with any guy.

Theo managed a smile and attempted to divert their interest. “Those are pinball machines over there,” he said, gesturing to a row of the dusty machines. The Lord of the Rings version was one of his favorites, and just about one of the best pinball machines ever made. He’d enjoy it just as much as Sam and Tom—Tyler?—would. “I might be able to get one of them working again, if you want.”

“No,” Selena said sharply, just as interest lit Sam and Tyler’s—Tim’s?—face. “We don’t need to get involved with those things. Too dangerous.”

Theo saw the disappointment on the boys’ faces. More dangerous than sneaking out at night alone?

“Maybe he could at least look at the
DVD
player. The one that’s broken? He might be able to fix it?”

“Maybe,” she said. Selena didn’t acknowledge Theo any further except to give him a warning glare as she started out of the room. The other boy whose name Theo was certain began with a T started after her, but Sam didn’t. He caught Theo’s eyes and positioned himself in front of him—not overtly threatening, but just enough that it was clear he meant to talk to him.

Theo had to give the kid credit. A lot of it. Despite the fact that Sam was a bit taller than he was, he was more slender and certainly not as solid as Theo.

“Look”—Sam said in a voice that sounded just a little breathless. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his mom was gone—“I don’t know what’s going on with you. Last night you were all over Jennifer, and now you’re . . . uh . . . well, if you’re messing with my mom, well, I’m not going to be too happy about that.” His Adam’s apple bobbed a bit too much and Theo saw him folding his arms together over his chest as if to keep himself steady.

Theo nodded and held the young man’s eyes. Figuring honesty—without a lot of unnecessary details—was best, he kept his face serious and said, “I can see how you’d be upset. But I’m not into Jennifer, okay? That wasn’t gonna work. As for your mom . . . well, she’s pretty amazing” —he barely caught himself from saying hot— “and I’m not sure what’s going to happen. But I promise you that whatever happens, I’ll treat her with care and respect. Okay?”