Night Betrayed (17 page)

Selena drank some water from the cup Vonnie handed her, and met his gaze briefly over its rim. “He says he’s not,” she said as she lowered the glass, “but he is.” Her lips tightened a bit and she shrugged in acceptance. “The marijuana helps sometimes, and the tea, but it can’t eliminate all of the pain.”

“That must make it even harder for you, knowing there’s not much you can do.”

She nodded. “I wish I had some of the medicine and treatments they had . . . before. Or at least, more information about how they alleviated pain then. It might help.”

I might be able to help you with that. Either me or Elliott. Theo folded the towel and set it on the counter. “I’m going to go back up to the arcade. There are some things I want to check out up there.” He took care not to look at Selena—both for his own sake, and Vonnie’s as well.

“Where’s Frank?” Selena asked as Theo paused to get a drink of water.

“He went out to work in the garden, same as he always does,” Vonnie replied.

“Sammy go with him?”

“Yes. He didn’t get away fast enough.”

“Darn,” Selena said. “I wanted him to help me move that big shelf for the supply room.”

“I’m sure Theo would help you,” Vonnie said in a very smooth voice. “Wouldn’t you, Theo?”

And that was how it happened.

“You didn’t fool her in the least,” Theo said to Selena as he followed her down the hall. His heart was suddenly racing, and his belly had become embarrassingly filled with fluttering butterflies. He felt like a middle-schooler going to his first dance.

She tossed back a smile at him that did nothing to calm the upheaval in his stomach. “I know. But it made me feel better.”

He felt odd, following a woman to . . . well, he assumed, her bedroom. But he wasn’t quite certain. Maybe she did need help moving a big shelf. Probably not.

But it was a little strange to him, knowing that this was all planned. That they were going to have sex. Could it be any less spontaneous? Could it be any more awkward, for a first time? Any less . . . special?

And why was he making such a big deal about it? It was going to be good, no matter how it went.

They started up a flight of stairs near the far end of the large house, and Theo couldn’t resist asking, “Your supply room is on the second floor? Not very convenient, is it?”

Selena curled her fingers on the top of the banister, stepped up, and turned to give him a hot smile as she went around the corner. “I have a feeling you’ll find it very convenient.”

Oh, yes. A dart of lust shot through him, and he vaulted up the last few steps with a little jump, landing next to her. “If you’re sure . . .”

“I’m su—”

But Theo’d decided he was through with waiting, and he had her in his arms before she could finish her sentence. He found her mouth easily, covering it with his as he edged them away from the stairs. Instinct from living in a deteriorating world for fifty years had him shifting from the railing at the top of the landing, and instead pulling her up against his chest as he leaned against the wall.

Steadying himself, so that he could put all his energy and effort into tasting and enjoying her, he smoothed his hands up over her delicate shoulder blades, crossing them to stabilize her as he deepened the kiss.

Selena had at first stiffened in surprise. But now she melted against him, pressing Theo into the wall and received his kiss, drawing his tongue and lips into her mouth as if she wanted to devour him. Theo lost himself for a moment, just drinking in her smell, the soft, welcome lines of her body, the way he tilted back, stable, against the wall, holding her against him. Everything became hot and sleek as their kiss eased into serious business.

His hand found her ass, sweeping over that sweet round curve as he slipped his knee between her legs. “I’ve missed you,” he said. “Where have you been?”

“I really do,” she said, shifting back a bit, clamping her teeth around his lower lip and tugging at it, “have something heavy . . . for you to move.”

Theo closed his eyes against the niggling pleasure-pain at his lip, the muscles beneath his skin shivering with want. She released him and then swiped her tongue in a little apologetic dance over his throbbing lip.

“Want to make me work for it, do you?” he murmured, slipping his fingers between them to give relief to that straining button on her blouse. And then the one below it.

“Oh, yes,” she replied, pressing down onto the knee he’d slipped between her legs. “I wanted to get you all hot and sweaty first.”

Another button. And then another. He slid his hands beneath the opening of her shirt, taking care of the still tender ganga slashes on the front of her shoulder. For a moment, he paused and looked down at them, a stab of anger and something like fear shooting through him. “Selena,” he whispered, imagining those awful, evil nails scoring her smooth, tanned skin . . . and somehow, her getting away from such a threat. Miraculous.

How? And why would she risk it again? At least he knew she hadn’t gone out the last few nights. He’d been watching.

As if reading his mind and looking for a way to detour it, she shifted, her hand cruising down between them to cover the raging hard-on straining the buttons of his shorts. The confident weight of her hand, cupping him, sliding over the center of his desire, drove all other thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t hold back a groan as she found the length of him through the fabric, up and along, back and forth, as he filled his hands with her bra-clad breasts.

“About that heavy thing . . . you needed me to move,” he muttered. “Can I do that later?”

She laughed against him and then slipped away, quickly and suddenly. “Come on,” she said, her eyes hot and her full mouth curved with promise and humor. “You can show me what you’ve got.”

He liked the sound of that.

Theo followed as she darted down the hallway past what had likely been bedrooms and guest suites when Brad Blizek lived here. Her shirt flapped open behind her, and her sagging hair was now drooping even further. And her slender feet . . . bare and quick beneath her jeans.

It occurred to him then, as the heat of the moment ebbed temporarily, that her neck and throat had been devoid of the long cord that she’d been trying to hide before. He didn’t remember feeling or seeing it the other day either, but he’d only had his hands up her shirt instead of it being open . . . 

Selena slipped into a room halfway down the hall and Theo followed her, closing the door behind him. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this: a very cozy, very inviting room that was clearly a woman’s boudoir. A bed piled high with pillows of all shapes and sizes, in shades of green and blue. A swath of some light, shimmery material hanging from the ceiling, draped half over the bed—which, by the way, was at least a queen, maybe a king. Hot damn. Heavy bedposts marked each corner, and it was covered with a thick quilt or blanket. And a plush rug made from scraps of material tied and woven together covered the scarred wooden floor. A long triangle of gold from the lowering sun cut the room, shining through a westerly window.

“Wow,” he said, moving toward her. “Not what I expected.” His heart was pounding. He couldn’t wait to get her on that lush bed, covering her equally lush body with his . . . preferably with nothing between them.

She put up her hands as if to stop him, and they landed right on the planes of his chest. “I’m not sure whether I should be offended or charmed by that comment.”

“Charmed,” he said, capturing her mouth again, sliding his hand under her open shirt. “Definitely charmed.” Oh, yes.

“This is Vonnie’s room,” she said, pulling away with a quick little pirouette. Tossing a heavy-lidded, catlike smile over her shoulder, she added, “I don’t think she’d like it if we messed up her bed.”

Theo stopped. “You’re joking, right?”

“No, not at all,” she said, and gestured to a large . . . bookshelf. “I was hoping you’d help me move this down to the supply room.”

“Down the stairs?” he asked, all amorous thoughts fleeing. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it; it was that this whole event was taking a much different turn than he’d anticipated.

“Well, yes. Because, if it doesn’t get moved down there, Vonnie will want to know why, since that’s why we sneaked off together.” Her eyes narrowed in delight at his obvious consternation.

“I wouldn’t call that sneaking off . . .”

But she continued. “I realized that if I’m going to mess around with a man half my age, I might as well take advantage of all the benefits—which include not only having you do a little heavy lifting, but also seeing all those muscles in action.”

The way she said that . . . all those muscles in action . . . in that low, throaty voice . . . made his knees go weak. Damn. Was this how it was? A little fluttering of the eyelashes, a little flattery, and a guy was no longer master of his own mind? Not that he was complaining . . . because pretty soon, her knees were going to be jelly too. He grinned.

“Shall I take off my shirt, then?” he asked, half serious, half joking. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the show.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied. And crossed her arms, waiting.

Theo hesitated only a minute and then yanked his stretched-out T-shirt up and over his head, then tossed it to her. She caught it neatly and he had a moment of pure delight when he felt her attention, her eyes, score over him. “Shall I turn around?” he asked mockingly.

But he knew that, for a self-professed geek, he was ripped enough for any woman to look twice. That was something that had happened since the Change, when he found himself doing a lot more demanding physical activity than in 2010.

“I’m just noticing,” she said in a decidedly husky voice, “that your wound is gone. Hardly even a scar.”

He looked down at his torso, smoothing his fingers over where the wound would have been. She was right. There was nothing there. “That’s wild,” he said. “It’s only been a week.”

“Wild? Impossible is more like it,” she replied, reaching to touch him. Her fingers skated lightly over his chest and he felt the prickling swarm his body, scattering to every nerve ending. The edge of her shirt hem and its cool buttons brushed his bare skin. He drew in a steadying breath, feeling her fingers press more heavily as his chest rose.

“If you want me to move that bookshelf,” he said, using every ounce of control to step back, “you’d best let me get on it. Or we’re going to be messing up that bed, Vonnie or not.”

Selena stepped closer, back into his space. “A little impatient, are we, young man?” Her fingers settled onto his shoulders and she looked up at him. Her lips curved mockingly. “You see, that’s one advantage of age. We older folk know how to enjoy anticipation. We have more patience. We can—”

With a little annoyed growl, he yanked up a handful of her shirt and dragged her against him, his mouth cutting her off. She chuckled beneath his kiss, then slid away to nibble on his jaw.

“Work before pleasure,” she said, trailing her tongue sassily around the inside of his ear.

“My mother used to have a word for people like you,” he said, stepping back. “Hellion. That’s what you are. A hellion.”

“What’s wrong, little boy? Can’t keep up with an old girl like me?”

He paused from where he’d turned to lift the bookshelf. “Just wait, Selena. Just wait.”

The bookshelf was heavy, but mostly awkward; and he had no trouble carrying it down the nice, wide staircase to the supply room—which did turn out to be on the first floor, and much more convenient. He realized she’d been teasing him all along, and he found himself alternately laughing and mentally shaking his head about Selena.

How could a woman who lived with the dying every day, who looked death in the eye, have such an off-beat, silly sense of humor at times?

Maybe she had to, in order to face the ugliness and sorrow she had to contend with.

But now . . . he fully intended to give her something else to focus on.

Theo turned to her. “Now that the work’s done . . .”

“What about some pleasure?”

Selena’s belly dropped as Theo closed the supply room door behind him, leaning against it as if nothing would move him. As their eyes met, a wash of heat and anticipation rushed through her and darn if her knees felt as if they’d give way. Darn.

She’d hardly been able to keep her eyes from his broad-shouldered torso . . . shirtless and sleek, his olive skin devoid of hair and without an extra bulge or crease anywhere. He was more beautiful than she remembered from the day she’d revived him. Obviously, life agreed with him.

She wasn’t sure whom to thank for this gift, but Selena was not one to question miracles. She’d seen her share of—and lack of—them enough in her life.

“My place is a little more private,” she reminded him. He looked as if he were stalking her . . . watching, waiting for her next move. Uncertain, wary, but in an anticipatory way.

“No more detours?” he asked.

She shook her head, unable to talk. Her mouth was dry, her heart was racing.

When was the last time she’d had sex? Longer than she liked to admit.

When was the last time she’d had sex with a guy like him? Never.

“No, this way,” she managed to say as he turned to open the door. “My room connects.”

“That’s convenient,” he said in a voice that could only be described as a purr. And closed the door. “Very convenient.”

Selena led him through the back of the supply room to a small exit in the rear, where stairs led up to her bedroom, which was on the other end of the hall from Sam, and about halfway from Vonnie’s room. She’d decided about six years ago that she’d rather Vonnie hear what was going on in her room—not that anything ever did—than her son.

And vice versa.

No sooner did they move into the room than Theo was there, right there, his mouth on hers, his hands pulling the shirt from her shoulders. She began to shrug out of it, then realized that there was too much daylight and he’d see all her stretch marks and bulges—a crime next to his young body—and tried to pull it back over to cover her.

“We’ll have none of that,” he murmured, firmly removing her hands and sliding the cotton from her shoulders, taking care not to scrape her wounds. “You’ve been ogling me . . . now it’s my turn.”