Rock Hard And Wet (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Nymphs Of New York) (4 page)

BOOK: Rock Hard And Wet (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Nymphs Of New York)
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“Well, other than the virginity part,
I’m all for some defiling.”

An old woman they passed gasped and
Callie laughed all the harder. Theo chucked her under the chin and she met his
stare.

Heat and desire lit his eyes. “Be
careful what you wish for, nymph.”

Chapter Four

 

People stared as he propelled Callie
through the lobby of his building. The female looked like a super model in
hippie bohemian clothing. The scarf he’d tied over her waist to cover the rip
in the skirt did more to entice him with the flashes of thigh. It teased him
with each step more than if she’d left it off. He kept her hand captive in the
crook of his elbow, craving the touch and warmth. Their time together drew
closer and closer to its end.

Booker waited on the roof, the grotesque
had tailed them for blocks. Theo’s former commander continued to treat him as
though he remained in his unit, although the Censure and Shunning were hundreds
of years old.

Having sex with Callie brought old
memories to the surface, memories and desires he’d long ago encased in a cage
of bedrock. Booker had no doubt seen them in the alley or heard about the tryst
and come running. The older male remained convinced he’d get Theo restored to
his standing in the community by chastising him and trying to control every
move he made. And that meant Theo couldn’t be distracted by females into the
same behavior that had led to his disgrace to begin with.

Booker’s motives weren’t of the
philanthropic kind. As one of the last grotesques young enough to have viable
sperm, the community needed Theo for the gene pool. But none of the females
would accept him if he remained an outcast. His wishes in the matter made no
difference to the older male.

Theo shook his head and unlocked the
door for Callie, not even sure how they’d managed to arrive at his apartment. She’d
snuck in under his defenses like water through cracks in mortar, he’d laughed
and teased and flirted with her, had sex with her—a female he didn’t know.

In less than sixty-six hours, she’d be
back in the harem, and he’d be alone again. Alone with the armor he used to
defend himself—damaged and in need of repair.

Her ass flexed under the skirt, enticing
him to bite down on her, grab her, or spank her. All three was actually
preferable. He’d grab her, bite down on her ass, and then spank her. In that
order.

Spank? He turned the thought over in his
head, feeling the urge out. He naturally shied away from things that would
cause harm. But the desire had nothing to do with hurting her. He wanted to
feel the firm flesh under his palm, the heavy weight of her over his lap,
squirming in pleasure as the strikes turned her butt pink.

This had to be the nymph’s influence on
him, no doubt, turning him into a deviant, horny kid instead of the hardened
warrior he’d been before his Confinement.

She whipped her tank off and dropped it
on the arm of his couch. The cinnamon colored leather was so new it didn’t even
have wear marks from people—him—sitting on it.

He studied her back, the slender lines
of her shoulder blades and spinal column dipping in to a tiny waist before
flaring out into generous, full hips. The knot he’d tied in her scarf proved too
hard for her to untie, and she shimmied both it and the ruined skirt down her
legs to her slender feet.

Shit. Her perfect ass was right there,
close enough for him to touch if he took three steps.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder,
and the ends of the strands teased the tops of her cheeks. The golden iris of
her left eye appeared when she turned her head and smiled at him. “I’m going to
take a shower. Wanna come?”

Oh, did he want to come. A deep purring
started in his chest, and he choked himself to contain it. The sound could
never pass his lips. Never.

The lust in her eyes dimmed. He could
only imagine the expression on his face right now, trying to keep the mating
call to himself. A mating call for a nymph? Hair struck his eye when he shook
his head. Maybe he’d gone half crazy during his punishment like they’d told him
he would.

Five hundred years was a long time.

“I—” The purr started again and he
choked on it, coughing around the hum.

Callie’s warmth enveloped him, her scent
cloying in the air. “Are you okay?”

“Get away.” He clenched his fists and
stomped to the hall closet. The doorknob came off in his hand. He grasped at a
few towels, didn’t even know if they were the right size for her, and slammed
them down on the counter.

This was ludicrous. Grotesques did not
mate outside their species. Especially not with females they’d met a few hours
before. He didn’t even have feelings for the girl besides lust and an
appreciation for her sense of humor.

Not that she really needed to know any
of it. Callie walked hand-in-hand with trouble. Being with her had already
brought the head of the local aerie down on his head.

Speaking of which, he needed to get up
to the roof and find out what Booker wanted. Although, there wasn’t much more
they could do to him. Nothing else they could take from him.

“Theo, you’re making me nervous.” Callie
appeared in the doorway of the bathroom with her clothes in her hand. “I think
I should leave. I didn’t mean to impose or to make you uncomfortable
or…whatever is going on right now.”

He sucked in a deep breath and released
it, counting to ten with his eyes closed. When he opened them again, her tank
top was back on and she was busy with the skirt.

“No, I’m sorry. I apologize. It’s not
your fault.” He sat on the toilet and met her eyes. “There’s someone waiting
for me on the roof, and I don’t want to go up to see him.” The glass walled
shower stall in front of him was close enough for him to stretch his legs out and
tap his toes against.

“Oh?” The whisper of fabric stilled. He
chanced glancing at her, so close, so beautiful with her hip resting on the
vanity. “Who?”

The urge to tell her everything, to
spill his guts out to this female hovering on the edge of running from the
room, from his apartment and life almost forced the story from his lips. Who
better to tell than her, a near stranger who’d be gone in a few days? But he
had a flaw, even after all the long years trapped in his stone form.
Selfishness. The very sin that led to his punishment to begin with still
resided in his heart. If he told her of his shame, she’d leave.

And the last thing he wanted right now was
to be alone. “Booker. His name is Booker. He’s the head of the aerie.”

“Oh.” Callie moved closer, and then
perched on the vanity next to him. “So don’t.”

“What?”

Her fingers caressed his scalp, finger
combed his hair back. “Don’t go if you don’t want to. What will happen if you
stay here with me?”

“I don’t know. They’ve already taken
everything from me.” He shrugged. “Yell at me, perhaps. Tell me how foolish and
indecent my behavior today has been.”

The sound of a smothered giggle reached
him, and he cocked his head to see her face. Pink cheeks, nostrils flaring, and
her hand clamped over her mouth. Yes, giggling again.

The mirth bubbling over in her eyes took
root somewhere in his gut, and he began to laugh as well. To hell with Booker,
his edicts, and his ideas of propriety. Being encased in stone for five hundred
years changed Theo. What did he care for the aerie’s demands and ideas about
behavior? He’d watched and observed over all those long years alone. Acted as
confessional for the sinners who came to speak to him, the sounding board they
relied on because they knew he could not tell anyone their secrets.

And perhaps they sensed that he would
not, even if he could.

He caught her ankle in his left hand and
circled the delicate bone with his thumb. Soft, supple calf muscle gave way to
the hidden place at the back of her knee, the edge of her thigh. At that point,
he stilled, not moving his hand any higher. Waiting.

A shiver ran over her, and then she
guided him around to the front of her leg, to the crease where thigh and torso
met. He ran his finger down the flesh there, her pupils enlarging with desire
as he stroked.

The time for indecision and anger over
the past slid away. Now, there was only Callie.

He surged to his feet and crowded in
close to her, crushed her hips to his, wanted her to feel the hard length of
his cock and know how much she turned him on. This time when he kissed her, he
took his time, using care and slow deep probes of his tongue to drive her
higher and higher.

She moaned and wriggled, reached for his
zipper, and even though his erection hurt from being trapped in his pants, he
took control of her hands, holding them with gentle restraint behind her back.

This time, he wasn’t going to fuck her
senseless against a wall. She’d come—when he let her. After he’d tasted every
inch of skin, plunged his tongue inside her tight channel, licked his way from
the top of her spine to the base, and sank his teeth in her delectable ass.

The purring rumble started again under
his diaphragm and he forced it down. Idiotic mating urges. The aerie made sure
to remind him he wasn’t a real grotesque, hadn’t been for centuries, and yet
the instinct still rode him.

Fury and aggravation climbed up his
throat and he channeled it into his sex drive. He’d lose himself in Callie’s
body and forget. At least for a while. One thing was left to him; one thing
they couldn’t take away was his protective nature. It resided in his DNA, the aerie
be damned, he’d never lose that. No matter how angry he was, he’d never hurt an
innocent. So, no matter how much rage boiled beneath the surface, he could use
it to fuel his drive for sex with this female and enjoy her lush body.

He put pressure on her wrists, only
enough to force her arms out straight and present her breasts to his mouth. The
tank top covered her gorgeous tiny nipples. It would never do.

“Hands on the counter and don’t move.”

Callie did as he asked, and he released
her wrists. Her swollen lips beckoned to him. He took the temptation as he
burrowed his fingers into the front of her shirt, ripping it down the middle.

She cried out against his mouth, bucking
her hips over his cloth covered dick. The friction and heat sent pleasure zinging
through his body to pool in his balls.

He wrapped his arms around her chest,
trapping her hands behind her back and lowered his head to her breasts where he
tasted, sucked, and nipped every inch until her nipples were red and he could
hear the blood pulsing through them.

“Beautiful. They’re perfect.” He flicked
her right peak, then the left, one last time. Her irises glowed molten gold and
he traced one eyebrow. “You’re extraordinary.” Her breath hushed in and out on
pants. Theo backed away and gestured to the remains of her skirt. “Take it
off.”

When she’d rolled the offending fabric
to her feet and stood with it pooled around her ankles, he clenched his hands.
It took all his control to refrain from dipping his tongue into her belly
button, then heading south to lap at her pussy.

“Now, undress me.”

The brush of her nails over his skin as
she peeled his clothing away nearly drove him insane. She knelt at his feet to
work his boots off. Her hair draped over her shoulders and across her breasts so
that her nipples played peek-a-boo with him. When she’d freed his dick and
“accidentally” let the head rub over her lips he almost came.

Finally, they stood facing each other.
Her stare roved over his form, and the smell of her arousal increased.

“Your body is incredible, Theo.”

It took all his control to endure her
caresses over his chest and stomach. He stopped her before she could encase his
throbbing shaft in her palm.

He’d never given much thought to his
looks, although before his Confinement, many of the females of his kind engaged
in sex with him.

The muscles and his stature served a
purpose. He’d been a soldier, a guardian. His body had to be strong to serve
its function. But those words from her, from Callie, sent a shot of lust to his
cock and it jerked.

“Into the shower with you. I want to see
your hair.”

“Is that all you want to do in the
shower? Get washed up?” She circled his nipple and leaned in to bite down on
the sensitive area.

He took a quick half step and grabbed
her ass, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. “I said, into the
shower.”

She shrieked, laughed, and squealed when
cold water hit her legs. “Hey! Turn up the heat!”

“I bet you can do that yourself.” A
sharp sting rang through him when her palm connected with his left cheek.

“Oh, I can do more than just that.” Both
of her hands squeezed his ass. “Set me down and I’ll show you.”

He adjusted his grip, and the slide of
her skin over his as he released her nearly undid him. Steam began to fill the
room. She backed into the shower spray, tilting her head back.

“This dye is supposed to be permanent,
but I should be able to get the water molecules in it to cooperate and break it
down. Petra will be pissed when she finds out I took it out early. Took forever
to figure out how to get them to bind to my hair in the first place.”

Crossing his arms over his chest so that
he didn’t toss her on the floor and fuck her until he came seemed like a good
idea. “Good, I didn’t want to have to start calling you Ariel. I like Callie
better.”

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