Soul Weaver (34 page)
Tonight her harvester training would begin. She’d caught that errant thought of his earlier. Nathaniel wouldn’t rest until she could protect herself from anyone looking to collect on her mark.
He kissed the tender inside of her wrist. “You drive a hard bargain.”
She braced her hands on his chest and shoved him toward the door before the heat in his eyes melted her will to resist. “You love me for it.”
“I do,” he agreed, his expression solemn. “I always will.”
Nathaniel climbed the stairs leading to the apartment and found Chloe standing before their bedroom window, people-watching. It seemed she did that more often these days. He gazed at her while she stared through the glass, still more comfortable inside than out.
Today she wore strappy sandals and an airy dress that kissed the backs of her knees. The light pink accentuated her pale skin, made her appear softer, more fragile than he knew she was.
Her soft sigh sliced through his sense of well-being and made a frown tug at his lips.
Chloe’s education in harvesting was taxing. The things she saw weren’t meant for mortal comprehension. Learning the basics of soul harvesting, witnessing the act firsthand through Nathaniel’s memories and his perspective, were brutal lessons. He’d tempered those harsher duties by teaching her to carve rifts from this room to a different beach every night. She seemed content, but times like these… he wondered if she was.
Fear she might be unhappy made contingency plans roll like dice through his mind.
“Hey.” Her small smile reflected in the glass and eased the tense ball in his gut. “I wondered when you’d be getting home. We just closed shop. How’s Bran?”
“He’s good.” Nathaniel eased a step closer.
With a small nod, Chloe stepped to the right and took her smile with her. She braced on a bookshelf so new it hadn’t been given a final sanding. It was one of many he’d built for her throughout the apartment.
Wanting to hear her voice again, he said, “I think he’ll be walking without a cane soon.”
“I agree.” Her fingers worked the delicate buckles at her ankles; then her shoes hit the floor with a thud. “He’s stubborn, like his uncle.” Turning her back to him, she asked, “Can you help me with this zipper?”
“I think I can manage it.” Catching the metal tab, he lowered it slowly, allowing the pad of his thumb to trace the curve of her spine. Sliding his hands inside, he pushed the fabric from her shoulders. It pooled around her ankles, revealing a lacy bra and matching coral panties. Cream-colored ribbons created a decorative seam his fingers itched to unlace.
When she turned, light spilled over her flawless body and his breath caught in his throat. She was a miracle to him, a gift he would cherish through all his living days.
While she plucked pins from her hair, his greedy gaze drank in the sight of her. The freckles once sprinkled across her nose had vanished. The small beauty mark on her side was likewise gone. Even the scar over her heart, the one that had intertwined their fates, was nothing but a smooth expanse of skin now.
He reached for her just as she bent to pick up her things and touched nothing but air.
“I think I’m going to take a shower.” She headed for their bedroom with the dress draped over her shoulder and the shoes hanging from her fingertips.
Nathaniel’s chest constricted with every step she took away from him. He turned his back before she closed a door between them. Tightening his fists, he vowed he would make her happy in her new life. Damn the consequences, he would find a way even if it—
“Are you going to make me wash my own back?” Chloe’s bare feet meant he hadn’t heard her approach. She traced a finger down the crisp line of his shirt, tapping the buttons as she went, until her finger rested at his belt buckle.
He couldn’t answer, not while she wouldn’t look him in the eye. Hooking a finger in his belt loop, she turned and led him trailing after those cream ribbons.
Inside the bathroom, steam fogged the mirror and water thundered into the shower basin. She unhooked her bra and discarded it with her panties before she stepped under the spray. Uncertainty made him pause with his fingers on his belt until she popped her head around the door.
“Hurry up,” she said, “or we’ll run out of hot water.”
His clothes were tugged over his head, shoved down, and kicked aside. She held out a wet hand and he took it, allowing her to lead him inside the stall.
A bar of soap sat in the palm of her other hand. Lather bubbled between her fingers and covered her washcloth. “Turn around.”
His taut muscles relaxed under her gentle hands as she washed the worst of his anxiety away.
The past several months had taken a heavy toll on them, the past few weeks even more so. Even during the past week, Chloe’s brush with death kept him awake at night. He would lie in bed, listen to her even breathing, and pay back the sleepless nights he’d given her an hour at a time.
As her scrubbing lulled him into a boneless state, his shoulders slumped. When his heavy eyelids closed, he decided he could curl around Chloe, sleep for eternity, and be content.
Until her washcloth dipped between his legs and she cupped him through the fabric. Then his eyes shot open and all thought of sleep vanished. “I think that area is clean enough.”
“I’m not so sure,” she murmured.
A light squeeze of her hand and he suddenly shared her doubts. He groaned and leaned into her touch. If she wanted him cleaner, so be it. She could rub him raw if she wanted. Anything to keep her hands on him and to see the sadness wiped from her face.
“Did I hurt you?” Her grip loosened.
Clamping down on her wrist, he kept her hand right where it was. “No, it feels good.” So good he spread his legs wider and gave her room to play.
“There’s something I want to try.” Pink blossomed in her cheeks.
“I can’t say it.”
“Then show me.”
He tucked a lock of wet hair behind her ear.
“We’ll do anything you like.”
When she sank to her knees, his almost buckled. Though she had shown interest in exploring his body, he’d been too greedy to give up his discovery of hers.
Her gaze flicked upward.
“I’ve never done this before.”
He had figured as much, but still his strength left him at her words.
“You don’t have to do it now.”
He would be happy to taste her, pleasure her. But it was nothing compared to her coming apart around him.
She closed her hand over his erection and pumped her fist with shallow strokes designed to drive him wild.
“I know, but I want to.”
Her dark eyes, so earnest, drew him in and made his spine tingle with desire.
“Ready?” Her voice was husky with intent.
Lines puckered her forehead, and he could tell she was puzzling out how to proceed.
Stroking her cheek with the back of his hand, he said, “If it makes you uncomfortable, you can stop at any time.” His finger parted her lips. “I won’t come.”
And one day, he would stop making her almost-impossible-to-keep promises.
He watched, enraptured by the barest hint of her tongue as it flicked out and licked the side of his shaft. He gasped and braced his hands against the tile when her expression shifted from inexperienced hesitation to one of unexpected delight.
His forehead met tile, but it did nothing to cool the suffocating heat rising around them. Her timid exploration was killing him and he could think of no better way to go.
When she licked a slow circle around the crest of his erection, his fingers dug into grout. As her lips parted, and she took him in a few precious inches, he locked his hips so he wouldn’t thrust.
He wanted her first time experimenting this way to be on her own terms. She should learn what she enjoyed. Find her boundaries, while he made mental notes of what made her eyes close and cheeks flush with shared pleasure. After all, there would be plenty of time for reciprocation later.
The warm pressure of her lips around him, the long and torturous slides of her hand up his shaft, clenched every muscle as he struggled to hold back his orgasm. “
Meira
, you have to stop now.”
Her unfocused eyes met his, then widened as understanding hit her.
Not waiting until she stood, he lifted her. When her legs locked around his waist, he pressed her against the wall. Her breasts thrust out on a gasp as the warm flesh of her back met frigid tile. Her nipples pearled under his gaze. Dropping his head, he sucked one of the hard buds into his mouth and scraped his teeth over the sensitized nub.
With his hips pinning Chloe in place, she couldn’t move. His hand found her sex and she writhed and scraped her fingernails down his shoulders. His thumb stroked her clit as he sank two fingers deep inside her. She gave a hoarse cry as she tightened around him. “Please.” Her strangled plea at his ear broke through his focused haze.
Fisting his cock, he rubbed the smooth head against her soft core, then pushed inside. They both moaned at the sensation of finally being completed. Two souls, two lovers, sharing a need for each other he would ensure lasted forever.
His grip dug into her hips as he lifted her slowly and lowered her even slower over his erection. Delicious friction made his muscles tremble. Then Chloe closed her teeth over the skin at his shoulder and the frayed thread of his control snapped.
“More.”
Her nails stabbed him, demanding more, and he gave it to her.
Deep thrusts slid her body up the slick wall. The tighter she clutched him, the harder he pushed, until she screamed his name.
“Love you. So much.”
A heartbeat later, he hurtled over the edge into orgasm. His strength drained until he dropped to his knees. Kneeling in the basin, with their bodies and minds connected, he promised her,
“I will do whatever it takes to make you happy.”
Her puzzled smile gave him hope. “I am happy.”
“When I came home, you seemed distant.” His gaze wouldn’t budge from her mouth, refusing to learn what her eyes might reveal. “I thought now that you’ve had time to think, you might regret choosing this life, might regret choosing me.”
Chloe cupped his face, tilting his chin up as she smoothed her thumbs across his cheeks. “I am a little overwhelmed. This all happened so
fast
.” Sudden warmth ignited in his chest. “Do you feel that?” Love rushed through their bond until his head swam with the images she projected. “That’s me, loving you with everything I’ve got. I told you, we’re forever.”
His throat tightened. “Forever.”
She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Silly man.” Her tone coaxed his eyes to hers, which shone with amusement. Her lips brushed his as she spoke. “How long did you think love lasted?”
Born in the Deep South, Hailey is a lifelong resident of Alabama. Her husband works for the local sheriff’s department, and her daughter is counting down the days until she’s old enough to audition for
American Idol
. Their dachshund, Poochie, helps Hailey write by snoozing on his dog bed in her office.
Her desire to explore without leaving the comforts of home fueled her love of reading and writing. Whenever the itch for adventure strikes, Hailey can be found with her nose glued to her Kindle’s screen or squinting at her monitor as she writes her next happily-ever-after.
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/#!/HaileyEdwards
(HaileyEdwards)
Facebook:
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http://haileyedwards.net/
Raised as an immortal Fionn, Izel Campbell discovers she is actually the world’s last living human.
Battle chief Kelvin Kerr lives only to kill the Campbell clan but when he meets the lovely Izel, he is torn between duty and desire…
See the next page for a preview of Britt Bury’s
Chapter 1
Present Day
Twilight was setting over the rolling terrain of Scotland when Izel Campbell spotted the rickety little cottage. She double-checked her map and compass, gently bouncing in her hiking boots. Izel had taken a plane, train, and then a bus, only to find herself having to hike the rest of the way to these godforsaken coordinates. Too bad her cell phone didn’t work. Otherwise her Maps app would have taken her straight there. Wiping away raindrops from her brow, she sighed with relief.
Finally, she had arrived.
“Grandpa?” she called, opening the cottage door, peeking inside the sparse dwelling. A single bed, nightstand, and tiny table were the only furniture occupying the minimal space. Maps and diagrams hung from the walls and the floor was lined with stacks of books and papers.
She inhaled deeply and wrinkled her nose. The smell of mold and rotted wood offended her senses, causing her stomach to twist. The shack was little more than a few pieces of wood nestled alongside a grassy hill. At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised to find string holding it together.
Her grandfather was nowhere in sight.
She placed her pack near the door and slowly inched farther inside. With the sun teasing light along the horizon, all she could do was wait.
“And what do we have here?” a deep voice from behind her sneered.
Izel gasped and turned slowly. An incredibly large man stood in the doorway, his sheer size strangling the breath in her throat.
He had to be at least six and a half feet tall, with shoulders so wide they barely cleared the entrance. Tan skin covered his muscular physique like a finely wrapped present.
Too bad it wasn’t Christmas.
His dark hair, which fell just past his shoulders, was wet from the recent rainfall, and his blue eyes burned with intent. “You’re a Campbell.” It was a statement, not a question.
Had they met? No, definitely not. Izel would have remembered this imposing male. His chiseled jaw and thick lips made the bones in her legs melt.
Although she didn’t know exactly who or
what
he was, she noticed his body was lined with weapons. Two daggers were strapped to his belt and a heavy sword was secured to his back, the hilt peeking just over his muscled shoulder. And she thought the immortals in New York looked rough.
