The Lycan Society (The Flux Age Book 1) (12 page)

Right then, though, she wanted to peel a few layers from Jack’s stern, brooding silence. She was sure he wasn’t nearly as grumpy and severe as he seemed.

“How old are you anyway, Jack?” she asked casually. She figured she may as well come out and say it.

Jack’s finely chiseled features clouded over, his perma-frown deepening.

“Old enough to know that questions can be dangerous, Yasmin Silver,” he said gruffly.

“I read that Lycans can live to be 500 years old,” Yasmin persisted. “That concept is crazy to me.”

Jack’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she thought she saw a flash of pain. Perhaps the memory of loss, or of seeing too much violence.

“I’ve seen some things,” he said slowly. “But a lycan learns to keep moving forward.”

Yasmin nodded, her heart going out to him. She was about to take his hand when a mountain of food arrived.

Glad to have the distraction, Jack walked Yasmin through his favorite dishes. She particularly loved the Szechuan tofu. The chili almost triggered a heart attack but it tasted divine. Jack ordered beers to cool their throats and Yasmin sipped languidly, allowing him to brood for a while.

“So what about you?” he eventually asked between mouthfuls of mango sago pudding. “How does it feel to join the pack?”

Yasmin felt self-conscious all of a sudden. She wanted desperately to ‘join the pack’ as Jack put it, but knew full well that she hadn’t quite sealed the deal as yet.

“What’s waiting for us in Berlin?” she returned. He looked at her seriously.

“For me, battle,” he said, not sounding like he relished it. “For you? If I’m reading the Mother right, you’re headed for a crucible.”

“A crucible?”

Jack chose his words carefully. “That’s what we call coming face to face with your spirit beast. Sometimes it’s a celebration. Other times it ends in disappointment.”

Yasmin nodded, appreciating Jack’s honesty.

“Then again I’ve never experienced a Flux,” he went on. “Up till now crucibles have just resulted in folks becoming lycans. Now that a Flux has started, people will begin finding out all kinds of things about themselves.”

Yasmin tried to suppress her anxiety. Her terminal condition had been cured with Jack’s own blood - surely that meant she was a lycan too?

“Whatever happens in Berlin, I want to come back with you,” she said honestly, tears welling in her eyes. Jack took her hand and looked into her eyes urgently.

“I won’t let anything bad happen,” he said. “You’re safe with me, Yasmin. I promise.”

Yasmin smiled through her tears, immensely relieved to have Jack on her side. She believed him with all her heart, sensing he would give up his life to protect her.

“Besides,” he said. “You’ve got a great body. ”

Yasmin almost swallowed her tongue. It was a wild comment, particularly for Jack. Perhaps an attempt at humor? It was inappropriate on so many levels considering the moment they’d just shared. And yet it did nothing to weaken his pledge of protection. Perhaps it was just how he operated. A man of animalistic desires. In a way his urgent need to sleep with her just made her feel more safe and secure. Her instincts told her to roll with it. Besides, she liked him too.

“You’re a bad man, Jack Foley,” she said with a chuckle. Jack looked relieved that she hadn’t taken offense. It was like they’d broken some kind of seal. The night took on an extra tone, a wildness that felt intoxicating.

“You feel like dancing, Yasmin?”

Yasmin downed her beer in one long gulp. She
was
a lycan, goddammit, and felt ready for anything. Jack held out a strong hand. She couldn’t imagine him dancing. Or having any fun at all. This she
had
to see.

Feeling inspired, Yasmin nodded vigorously. Jack stood, laying a wad of bank notes on the table.

The streets outside became an exciting blur of light and noise. They were filled with New Yorkers out on the town. Yasmin hugged Jack’s arm as he led them down 5th Avenue and straight to the front of a long line outside the Daijon building.

“Evening, Jack,” said the bouncer warmly, lifting the rope for them.

Yasmin looked up at Jack. “Is there anyone you don’t know in this city?” she asked in exasperation.

The club itself was on the top level of the tall building. Better still, it was an amazing glass pyramid that offered skyline views in all directions.

The dance floor was a swarming, throbbing pit. Yasmin squealed when she heard the thumping electronica, dragging Jack down several tiers of marble steps. Not for the first time she wished she was wearing heels and a nice skirt, but apparently you could wear whatever you wanted if you were by Jack Foley’s side.

Yasmin pushed into the center of a throng of dancers, relishing the smell of sweat, perfume and cocktails. She eased into the rhythm of the music immediately, entranced by the milky veil of stars visible through the glass roof. She felt electric, totally in sync with those around her.

Jack pushed close, gyrating provocatively. She felt his groin against hers, welcoming the sensation. She put a hand on his butt, holding him there for several seconds. Jack didn’t miss a beat, swerving from side to side like a cobra. Surprisingly, he could really dance!

Yasmin gave in to the primitive flow of the music, the rhythm, the collective night work. The heady aroma of sweat was a real turn-on in her current state. She pressed her body against Jack, wishing she had less clothes on.

Yasmin gradually became aware of Jack’s heavy breathing. And her own.

“Wanna leave?” he breathed. She nodded, looking into his eyes and saying
yes
.

Out into the cold night air again. This time they didn’t have far to go.

Jack hustled Yasmin into the foyer of a plush apartment building. They rode the elevator to a mid level and stopped outside number 671.

“Don’t tell me you own this place,” Yasmin said in disbelief.

“Of course not,” Jack said a little irritably. “But a friend of mine does. Stay here.”

And with that he was off down the corridor, disappearing into the fire exit. An uncomfortable minute later he appeared in the doorway, having unlocked it from the inside.

“Does your ‘friend’ know we’re here?” asked Yasmin doubtfully.

“Don’t sweat it, we won’t leave a trace,” promised Jack, closing the door behind them. Yasmin wandered through the apartment as Jack rummaged through the designer kitchen.

“Keep walking, Yasmin,” he called.

The place was amazing, a true Manhattan loft apartment. The kind only lawyers, doctors or actors ever owned. She padded down a long hallway to a jaw-dropping deck area, replete with a luxurious marble spa. Jack must’ve hit some hidden button, because the outer wall broke into two halves that folded neatly into lateral alcoves. The frigid night air filled the deck, but the spa began to bubble and steam.

That was when Jack emerged with two champagne flutes and a bottle of Dom Perignon.

“Oh, no,” Yasmin said incredulously. “You’re kidding, right?”

Jack assumed the most serious expression he had in his arsenal. “I never kid around, Silver.”

Yasmin laughed, accepting a glass of champagne. It tasted wonderful.

Jack stood deliberately close. “I’m going to warm my bones.”

Setting aside his champagne, Jack began stripping down. Bemused, Yasmin didn’t know where to look. In the end she watched him slide into the spa and arch his back. It
did
look heavenly in there. And despite her best efforts to look away, she’d gotten a glimpse of Jack’s butt. Rock hard.

The intense physicality she’d felt on the dance floor was still bubbling away inside her. She unbuttoned her blouse. Jack was gallant enough not to watch her undress. She stripped down to her underpants, deciding not to go fully naked. Topless was enough at this point.

Feeling goosebumps from the snow drifting in from the city, Yasmin sidled in alongside Jack. The water was a dream, soothing her body immediately. She never thought a spa could feel so good. Especially when Jack draped his arm around her.

Yasmin let the moment linger, watching tiny snowflakes drift into the water to be extinguished. In the end her questing mind got the better of her.

“What’s the worst thing you’ve seen, Jack?” she asked.

Jack sighed, playfully scooping a handful of bubbles at her.

“Asking questions is one thing,” he said at length. “I never promised to answer all of them.”

At that moment they both became aware of the red, glistening skin of Yasmin’s breasts through the steam. The water rose and fell gently over her nipples. Yasmin was embarrassed to discover that they were furiously erect.

She looked up at Jack, half expecting him to be grinning. No - he was smoother than that, already curling an arm around her petite waist. His hand was delightfully warm in the water, and she slid across the seat to be closer to him.

Their lips met. It was an earthy, primal kiss. Yasmin could taste Jack’s hunger, his urgency. He pressed his full lips against hers passionately, exploring her with his tongue. She found herself responding with relish, realizing that she wanted him inside her. She’d been preparing herself all night.

Yasmin locked tongues with Jack as the snow fell silently around them. His hand lingered on her left breast, cupping it gently, making fleeting contact with the nipple. Yasmin pushed his hand against her, savoring the sensation. Before long she moved into his lap, her back to him. A message that she wasn’t going to be dominated - she wanted a leading role too.

Facing the glittering, winking city skyline, Yasmin couldn’t see Jack’s face but she knew he was happy. His hands had settled on her hips as she began to rock back and forth. She could feel his hardness and tried to picture how big he was. It definitely felt heavy and warm. Jack seemed content to let his shaft rest between her butt cheeks for now, thrusting forward a little whenever Yasmin rocked back.

Arms splayed on the spa seat for balance, Yasmin enjoyed the rhythm, feeling ripples of pleasure radiate down her spine.

All of a sudden Jack was inside her, his rock hard cock sliding in from behind. Yasmin gasped as he worked himself into a nice, long motion - she was almost embarrassed at how wet she was.

The sensation was amazing. Unlike anything she’d felt with Hugo. Jack seemed to know where her hot spot was and made sure he hit it repeatedly. One strong hand strayed from her hip and played with her dripping breasts. Slowly it made its way down between her legs.

Yasmin opened her mouth in silent rapture when Jack expertly teased her clitoris, massaging it gently between his fingers. She rolled back and forth along his cock with renewed vigor, assaulted by waves of pleasure from behind and in front.

Whatever Jack was doing, she was helpless to resist, to string things along. It was unusual for her to lose control so easily, so quickly. She could feel her tide overflowing and she shuddered involuntarily. Sensing her climax, Jack squeezed her hips, silently encouraging her to roll with it. He’d known exactly when to remove his fingers.

Yasmin gasped as her body shook with pleasure. The freezing cold night, the falling snow, the steamy spa, the balcony, it was all perfect. Eventually Yasmin’s body stopped throbbing and she climbed off Jack. She went to grab his shaft but he waved her away with a smile.

“Sit back, enjoy it,” he said in a hushed, slightly awestruck voice. He seemed to have enjoyed the show. What kind of man did this? A man who had seen it all. A man with hundreds of years of experience. A man who had learned the simple joy of giving pleasure to a woman.

“Can I marry you now?” Yasmin said jokingly. At that moment she probably would have. She’d never felt so content as she looked out over the wintry cityscape. The distant wail of sirens emerged as a haunting reminder of the real world.

All of a sudden the water wasn’t as warm as before.

“I’d better get you back,” Jack eventually said. Yasmin was thrilled to hear the note of regret in his voice, but she had to agree with him.

A commotion in the street below drew her attention.

Jack noticed it too, but his reaction was more immediate. He passed her a gown and led her to the rail.

Bathed in flickering neon, Times Square spread out far below them. As usual it was filled with people, but they had formed a ring around a single figure who walked slowly across the open space. Yasmin tried to focus her vision. Was it a street artist? A madman carrying a gun? She glanced up at Jack, who had gone pale very quickly. A knot of dread tightened in her chest.

“That’s not normal, is it Jack?”

“Let’s take a closer look,” Jack said firmly, dragging Yasmin back through the apartment.

Fully dressed, he paced up and down like a caged tiger as they rode the elevator down. Yasmin followed close as he hustled out into the eerily quiet street.

Snow continued to fall - a gentle, ponderous delivery that coated everyone’s head and shoulders. Yasmin hugged herself for warmth as she pressed through a thick band of spectators.

The flash of cameras gave the scene a crackle like electricity. Hundreds of onlookers were holding their phones above the crowd, hoping to record what was unfolding.