StoneHardPassion (6 page)

“Not quite the evening I thought it would be.” Was it just a
few minutes before that he’d come through the door? It felt like a month.
“Thank you for your help.”

“Not that you really needed it.” There was no inflection in
his voice, but his eyes stayed riveted on her face. “What are you going to do?”

“I—” Glancing around, feeling the gazes directed their way,
she suddenly couldn’t bear it a moment more. “I can’t talk to you here. Come.”

Leading the way across the room, she was aware of every eye
on her, sensitive to it in a way she hadn’t been for a very long time.

“Shit.”

She said it under her breath, but Vidar obviously heard, and
understood.

“They’re worried about you.”

“I know.” Jasmina sighed, wishing she could smile, make it
look like everything really was fine. But she just couldn’t dredge up the balls
for that, even approaching the acerbic Ula’s desk. “Doesn’t mean I have to like
it.”

“Well slap my ass and call me blonde.” Ula was grinning, but
her fingers thrummed a tense rhythm on the desk. “I guess you were right,
jinn-girl. Definitely not ogre ugly after all.”

Jasmina sent the goblin a grateful smile for breaking the
tension, then slanted a glance at Vidar. He was looking at Ula, a little frown
between his brows.

“What was that all about?”

She chuckled. “Nothing to concern you. Ula’s a little nuts.”

“Huh.”

He didn’t sound convinced, but she was glad when he also
didn’t pursue the subject. Impatient to get away from the stares she could
still feel burning into her back as she went up the stairs, she was tempted to
translocate away. But Vidar wouldn’t forgive her if she did. Damn him for
disliking one of the most basic of faie abilities. Most beings, like trolls,
who couldn’t do it weren’t averse to being translocated by others. What the
hell was his problem with it?

Pushing open the door to her private room was a relief, but
she still felt as though she were walking through a fog. So many questions
swirled in her head, all clamoring for attention, but she couldn’t seem to
concentrate on any given one.

Turning to face Vidar, she didn’t even try to smile. “I have
to get away from here for a while. I need some space to think.”

Something flashed in his eyes, but was quickly gone. “I’m
sorry about your father.”

She shook her head, more in negation of the tears suddenly
pricking her eyes than at his words. “I hardly knew the man, and what I did
know tells me I was more of a commodity to him than anything else. I’m sorry
he’s dead, but I can’t say I’m really hurting over it.”

Vidar stepped a little closer. Reaching out, he touched her
shoulder, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her arm and making it tingle.
“No matter what they are, the loss of a parent is always hard. You’ll feel it
later, believe me.”

Torn between wanting to move away and get closer, Jasmina
stayed where she was. “I doubt it, Vidar. What he did was unforgivable, when
you look at it objectively.” Her voice was rising, and she tried to bring it
under control. “If I were what he thought I was, sweet, innocent,
defenseless
,
when he locked me in that bottle with Mahmud I would have been traumatized. I can’t
forgive him for that. I won’t forgive him.”

His fingers tightened, as though to steady her, and she
heard him sigh. “But according to Mahmud he also tried to protect you after you
ran away. Maybe he regretted what he’d done?”

She shrugged, rubbed her forehead, trying to release some of
the frustration and anger. “I don’t know. I feel like everything I thought I
knew was a lie. My brother Ahmet and I were close. I always thought the
messages I received, letting me know what was happening at home, came from him,
but now I don’t know. Why would he send Mahmud, of all people, to tell me of my
father’s death?”

“I don’t know.”

Suddenly she couldn’t stay there a moment more. For the
first time since she started tattooing at the Café, she wanted to get away from
it.

“I have to get out of here.” Impulsively, she looked up at
Vidar, reached out to touch his cheek. “Come with me. We’ll go traveling for a
couple of weeks, see some of those places you said you wanted to. I just need
to stop off at home and pick up a couple of things, then we can take off.”

His expression of regret was clear, and she knew his
response before he even voiced it. “I can’t, Jazz. I have animals at home to
care for and, besides, it wouldn’t be as much fun for you, with me not being
able to go out in the daylight.”

The strength of her disappointment surprised her, but she
forced a little smile. “I understand. It’s okay.”

“You could come stay with me.” He looked as surprised as she
felt hearing his words, and the corners of his mouth tilted in self-deprecating
humor as he continued. “I’d really like that.”

Joy flowed through her and she grinned in return. “I’d love
to spend some time with you. Should I meet you at a portal?”

“No.” His jaw tightened, and she knew what it cost him to
say, “We’ll translocate to your place. I don’t want you going anywhere alone.”

She snorted, but inside pleasure washed in a warm wave out
from her belly. “Worrywart.”

“Uh-huh. And your point is?”

“No point.” She took his hand, preparing to transport them
both. “Ready for an adventure?”

“Yes.” The light in his eyes made her heart sing.
“Definitely.”

Chapter Six

Vidar opened his eyes and let out the breath he’d been
holding. His heart was still racing.

“You okay?”

Avoiding Jasmina’s gaze, not sure how much of his trepidation
at translocation showed on his face, he pretended to look around her apartment.
“Yes, I’m fine.”

Her snort told him she wasn’t fooled. “All right then. Make
yourself comfortable.” She moved toward a door on the other side of the room,
then paused. “You mind if I grab a shower? I feel grubby.”

“No, I don’t mind.” By Freyja, he wished he didn’t
immediately imagine her sleek and wet under a rain of water droplets. Even if
she were interested, she was in a fragile emotional state. His stomach
clenched. He wasn’t even sure he was ready to take that monumental step and be
completely intimate with her. As ferocious as his need for her, the knowledge
of his inexperience made him cringe. “Take your time. I’ll wait.”

“Thanks.” The look she gave him made something tighten in
his belly, but he tried to ignore it. “I won’t be too long.”

When she disappeared through the door, he exhaled, rubbing a
palm over one cheek.

What had gotten into him when he suggested she come stay
with him?

Not that he didn’t want her there. He couldn’t think of much
that he wanted more than to have her with him, night and day. But that was
going to stretch his control to the limit.

Trying to take his mind off the disquieting thought, and
imagining what was probably happening in her bedroom, he finally took a good
look around the apartment.

It was modern, streamlined, enlivened into something more
than a box by bright walls, rugs and comfortable-looking upholstered furniture.
The place really fit Jasmina’s personality, and he recognized artwork and
knickknacks commemorating some of the places she’d visited. Seeing the
preponderance of plants made him happy, and he stroked his fingers through the
fronds of a nearby palm.

A glance outside showed a busy street and another apartment
building across the way. Clearly they were in the center of the city, and he
could easily imagine Jasmina as a part of the hubbub going on outside. Watching
it for just a few moments, seeing the folks rushing around a few stories below,
caused him a tweak of anxiety. He just wasn’t used to being around that many
people.

And he felt like a giant in the midst of the small room,
hardly daring to move from where he was standing in case he knocked something
over. Inching almost sideways, he moved to the entrance of the galley kitchen,
sticking his head in for a peek. He liked how clean and tidy it was, and even
the hint of something savory and spicy lingering in the air was pleasant. There
was a pass-through between the kitchen and dining room and, on the counter were
an aloe vera plant, a pile of what appeared to be tattoo patterns and a small,
ornate gold box. Beautifully crafted, decorated with a crest surrounded by
scrolled patterns of flowering vines and leaves, it could only be jinn, from
one of their renowned metal works.

The sound of running water came to him and, as though being
pulled by an inexorable rope, he slowly crossed the little dining room to the
half-closed bedroom door. Pushing it open, he hesitated on the threshold, his
heart racing as Jasmina’s distinctive sweet, musky perfume enveloped him. On
one hand going in seemed an intrusion. On the other, he couldn’t resist seeing
her personal space, and his body tightened almost painfully as he took in the
large platform bed with its silk coverlet and hangings. It was too easy to
picture her spread out naked on the creamy bedding, her skin glowing golden,
eyes gleaming in invitation.

Vidar knew he should back out, close the door, but he took a
step farther instead. There was a tote on the trunk at the foot of the bed,
something red, sheer and feminine spilling out, and he couldn’t help running it
through his fingers. A shuddering shock of lust fired up his spine as it slid
against his skin. A glance inside the bag showed nothing but a dark, misty
space, and he realized it must be enchanted to hold as much as she wanted.

Moving to the side of the bed, he touched the quilt, then
carefully picked up a long, black hair from the pillow. He’d never seen her
with her hair down, but he’d dreamed so many times of what it would feel like
swishing over his body. Letting the strand flutter from his fingers, he pushed
at his erection with his palm, trying to find a more comfortable position for
his engorged flesh. It didn’t work and, overwhelmed, he knew he had to get out
of there.

As he was about to turn a gleam caught his eye and he
paused, bending to peer toward the head of the bed. Something caught and
reflected light from the lamp on the low table and Vidar reached under the
pillow to pull the object out. It took a moment before he recognized what it
was.

Oh Freyja.

Staring at the glass phallus, heart pounding, hardly able to
catch a breath, Vidar turned it from side to side, his shocked mind taking in
the lifelike sculpting. He’d read about such things, even seen pictures in books,
but never thought of them as anything but a curiosity. Now, finding one in
Jasmina’s bedroom, he realized it was a raw, powerful turn-on. He wanted to use
it on her, watch the pink glass penetrate her, see what it looked like as her
body took its length.

A drop of sweat trickled into his eye, stinging him back to
reality, just as the shower was turned off. Panic tried to rear its head, but
he wouldn’t let it engulf him. For too long he’d allowed fear to rule his life.
If he truly wanted Jasmina, he had to become more than he’d ever been before.

Yet he also wasn’t keen on the thought of her catching him
snooping either, so he moved toward the door, pausing when he realized he still
held the glass phallus in his hand. On impulse, he dropped it into the open
tote before silently going back out into the living area, pulling the door back
to its previous position as he went. Pausing outside the door, he lifted the
tail of his shirt to wipe his face. Dear Freyja, he was a mess. Inside his
blood flowed like lava and his muscles were almost locked with tension. Closing
his eyes for a moment, he took several deep breaths, willed his heart rate to
slow. There was nothing to be done about his erection. It was a constant
whenever he was with Jasmina.

Moving across the room to the window, he stood facing it
without really seeing outside.

“Vidar.”

He turned to Jasmina and his heart stopped, his lungs
seized.

She was naked, her waist-length black hair swirling around
her golden body, the colorful tattoos emphasizing her high, firm breasts, small
waist and trim hips. Lifting her hand, she pushed her hair back, then slowly
swept her palm down, tracing a path from her neck to her stomach, bringing it
to a halt just above her almost clean-shaven mound.

He swallowed, didn’t even attempt to speak, unable to stop
looking at her, lust boiling like magma in his belly. When his gaze rose to her
face, she was smiling slightly, but her heavy-lidded eyes told the story of her
desire.

“I wasn’t sure you’d make the first move, so I figured I’d
save you the trouble.” Her voice was confident but she lightly bit her bottom
lip. “Didn’t think you’d mind.”

“No.” The growl in his voice shocked him, but couldn’t cool
his yearning. “I don’t mind.” Jasmina’s smile widened and she took a step closer.
Vidar held up his hand and she stopped, her eyes rounding in surprise. “Stay
there. I want to look at you.”

Her cheeks grew pinker, and she licked her lips. Her breath
was ragged when she inhaled. “Okay.”

By Freyja, she was gorgeous. Even more so than his active
imagination had been able to conjure. He’d seen photographs and paintings of
nude women, used that information to try to picture what Jasmina would look
like unclothed. There had been no way to know how much more beautiful she would
be in reality, with a welcoming smile on her face, the light gleaming on her
skin.

His brain struggled to take it all in. Dark nipples, peaked
and tempting. Flat, toned stomach, the bright roc feathers sweeping across her
torso, a jinn word tattooed above her pierced bellybutton. Long, amazing legs.
Narrow, beautiful feet, toes curled into the rug.

“By all that’s holy.” Her voice was a low whisper, hot as
the need in his chest. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna have an
orgasm before you can even touch me.”

“Good.” He didn’t know what he was saying, couldn’t think,
only react. “I’m just about ready to come in my pants too.”

“Shit.” She lifted a hand in appeal. “Don’t make me wait.”

Something feral exploded in his chest. He didn’t understand,
but couldn’t fight it—didn’t want to fight. “Lie down, and I’ll come to you.”

Her lips opened, as though to argue, but the blush on her
chest and face intensified. After a moment she gave a little whimper and sank
gracefully to the rug. Sweeping her hair to one side, her gaze never leaving
his, she lay on her back.

“Like this?”

“Oh yes.” He stripped off his outer jacket and began to
unbutton his cuffs. A distant part of his brain was surprised at the steadiness
of his fingers when the rest of his body was a trembling mess. “Just like
that.”

One quick tug had his shirt off over his head, but he didn’t
wait to finish stripping the rest of his clothes away. His fingers tingled, the
need to touch her overwhelming every other consideration. Two steps took him to
her side. He knelt, was still too far away, so he lay down on his side, facing
her. Jasmina started to roll toward him.

“Stay where you are.” She froze, stared at him, wide-eyed,
as he continued. “I’m going to touch you now.”

He heard the threat in his voice, that he wouldn’t start if
she moved, and didn’t truly understand where it came from. All he comprehended
was he couldn’t bear it right now if she put a hand on him.

Jasmina subsided and he saw the rapid rise and fall of her
breasts, the movement of her throat as she swallowed. “I’m all yours.”

Not yet—but you will be.

Even with that fierce thought, worry about his inexperience
feathered down his spine again, had to be pushed away. He trusted her to help
him, even if she didn’t know she was doing so.

“If I do anything you don’t like, tell me.”

“I don’t like that you won’t let me touch you.”

Something akin to a smile tugged at his lips, but his skin
shivered over tightly strung muscles at the same time. “Not negotiable.”

She licked her lips. “I don’t like that you promised to
touch me, and you haven’t.”

He could remedy that.

Gladly.

But he wanted to go as slowly as he could, savor every
second of this amazing, once-in-a-lifetime occurrence.

So he traced her eyebrows, cheeks and jaw with one finger.
Jasmina moaned softly, tilted her head back, exposing her throat. So he touched
that too, licking his lips as the silken flesh stretched taut and sweet beneath
his fingers. When he pressed his mouth to the same spot, licking and sucking
gently, her entire body arched, shuddering, and she gasped his name.

Now he couldn’t take his mouth away. The sweet taste of her
had gotten into his system, and he couldn’t do without it. He traced the hollow
of her throat and each collarbone with his tongue before moving down.

“I always wanted to see your tattoos.” Leaning back
slightly, he followed the shape of a feather with his fingertip, skimming past
a beaded nipple. Jasmina lifted her torso as though trying to follow the
motion, another gasp breaking from her lips.

“All you had to do was ask.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, spreading his fingers, he stroked
over her tattoos again and again, loving the high sounds she made, the way her
body rose and trembled at his caresses. Glancing up, he found her eyes closed,
her lips open as she panted.

Bending his head, he took one nipple into his mouth.

“Yes…”

Jasmina’s fingers tunneled into his hair, holding him close.
Just that simple touch made his cock jerk and instinctively he reached up and
grabbed her wrists, pulled them away. Lifting his head, he met her glazed eyes.

“Didn’t I say not to touch?”

An anguished moan broke from her lips, and her body writhed.
“Please, Vidar, don’t…”

“You want me to stop?”

“No. No!” She spread her arms out to the sides, curled her
fingers into the carpet. “Don’t stop.”

There was no time to ponder why her submission made him
crazy with lust. He only knew it did, and that it drove her a little crazy too,
so he had to go on.

“Good girl.” With the tip of his tongue, he traced her
nipple. “Good girl.”

Time seemed to slow to a stretch of glorious, heat-drenched
moments. He couldn’t get enough of her breasts, her reactions as he licked and
sucked, even nipped at them. Pressing the soft flesh together, he went back and
forth, drinking in her gasps, the shuddering jerks of her body. And a new scent
inundated his head—the evidence of Jasmina’s arousal—deep and delicious,
drawing him with a force as strong as gravity.

So he went lower, felt her body tighten to trembling
stiffness as he licked her belly, tugged on the diamond stud in her navel.
Lower still, to the smooth, pale flesh between her thighs, the plump little
mound bisected by a thin line of dark hair. Her thighs were parted, one knee
out to the side, the other trapped alongside his body. With a finger he
smoothed over the hair and her hips jerked, curled up.

Moving slightly away and sitting up, he put a hand on the
nearest thigh, stroked the hot, golden skin, amazed to realize it was even
softer than the rest of her body.

“Open for me, Jazz.”

She was almost silent now, except for tiny mewls that
escaped with each exhale. As he shuffled around to take position between her
legs, she brought the other knee up, let her thighs fall open.