The Taking (39 page)

But in the end, scary as it had been, that wound had shown them that Felix had surrendered his immortality in that courtyard. He was mortal, free of Beau and his past sins, able to live and age with her. Felix knew it as soon as he didn’t heal immediately from the knife wound, and somehow, in the midst of bleeding from what should have been a fatal injury for a mortal, he had lost his power to escape death, but hadn’t actually died.

But of course that meant he could die now, and Regan looked at him and saw that vulnerability.

She was trying not to let that terrify her, especially given that for most of their relationship, she had thought he was mortal anyway. She hadn’t even known an alternative existed, for him or for anyone else for that matter. But watching him almost bleed to death had made her painfully aware of how much she didn’t want to lose him now that they had found each other.

“I want you to tear me up,” he said, his voice sexy and slumberous from his nap.

She had come into the bedroom to see if he was awake since they had dinner plans with Chris and Nelson, and he was definitely awake. In all areas.

“No.” Regan made the mistake of leaning over to kiss him, and he pulled her down onto the bed. It was warm and cozy and nice lying next to him, and she would have loved to take her clothes off, but she thought it was definitely too soon after his injury and subsequent surgery. “It’s not a good idea.”

His finger stroked across the front of her Capri pants. “It’s been
forever.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, but her protests were growing thinner as his hand slipped inside the front of her pants. It had been weeks and weeks.

“Not being inside you is hurting me,” he murmured in her ear, spooning alongside her, fingers stroking lightly across her clitoris.

Regan laughed. “That’s such a line. I’m not sixteen.” She glanced around their new bedroom, painted a bright cheerful yellow, and tried to change the subject. “I think I need to buy us some new bedding to match this room. I’d like to stay in this house awhile if that’s okay with you.”

“I’ll stay here as long as you want if you let me have sex with you.” Felix was bumping against her backside with his erection in a teasing rhythm that had her shifting restlessly. “If we do it just like this, it won’t pull my stitches. Even my surgeon can’t argue with that. And he said I should expect a full recovery.”

Regan was warring between wanting to be cautious and the need to feel him deep inside her again. It wasn’t just the physical, sexual desire, it was also needing the intimacy, the connection that making love brought to them. She wanted him as close to her as possible, to be able to love him, to express her appreciation to him, to the universe, that they’d been given this second chance.

His finger dipped inside her and she bit her lip. “If it hurts at all, stop immediately,” she told him, trying to sound firm. “We’ll either find a new position or I’ll finish you off.”

Felix started laughing, his shoulders actually shaking.

“What?” she asked, amused at the joy in his voice, craning to see his face.

“You must love me if you’re offering to finish me off... that was very romantic, honey.”

Felix watched the woman he loved make a face at him.

“That didn’t sound right, did it?”

“No,” he agreed. “More like giving me oral sex is a chore you suffer through.”

“I like to ...”

Regan paused, and Felix refused to fill in the blank for her. He loved it when she embraced her sexual power instead of shying away from it. If he didn’t speak, she would continue, he knew from experience.

“I like to give you blow jobs. Head. Oral sex. Whatever we’re calling it.” Her fingers ran along the seam of his jeans. “But what I was really trying to say is that I don’t want to hurt you by having sex.”

“I know, and I love you for it. I love you for a lot of reasons. But the pain is gone, and yes, if it hurts, I will stop.” There really wasn’t much discomfort lingering from his wounds. Not that the pain mattered when he was so content, so exhilarated by being with Regan, being mortal, able to love her and be loved in return.

He was a free man.

And he wanted to make love to the woman he had been willing to give his life for.

“Okay ...” she said, her voice reluctant, even as her body shifted forward to make contact with his fingers again.

Felix stroked inside her, closing his eyes to just feel the sensation of lying next to her, his chest against her back, his face buried in her soft hair. “Take your pants off,” he whispered in her ear.

As she complied, Felix unzipped his own jeans and kissed the back of her neck. It was such a new feeling to be this happy, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Just lying in bed beside her brought him a contentment he had never experienced in his whole long and restless life.

When Regan’s skin was blissfully free of clothing, he skimmed his hands over her backside, enjoying the smooth silkiness of her flesh. Shifting her top leg forward, Felix slid inside her, closing his eyes against the rush of ecstasy.

Regan gave a sharp sigh, her head tilting back, and Felix knew that this was perfection, that this moment was worth everything that had come before, that all his sins had allowed him to be here, humble and appreciative.

She moved gently with him, their bodies connected in a hot sensual slide of pleasure, and Felix picked up the rhythm, slipping his finger around to tease her clitoris. Regan came quickly, her cries soft and ragged, and Felix didn’t wait any longer. He pumped hard, gritting his teeth, exploding tight and hard, shattering everything that had come before.

There was only now and tomorrow.

Kissing Regan’s shoulder, he relaxed onto the pillow.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Her concern was a novelty, and Felix smiled, nuzzling the back of her hair. “I’m fantastic.”

“Good.” She shifted so that she was on her back, facing him. “You know, I’ve always meant to ask you... what was it I felt on my shoulders that first night we met? When you were giving me the reading and it felt like someone was touching me. What was that?”

“I have no idea,” he told her honestly. “I’d like to say it was me, but I never had that kind of power. What do you think it was?”

Her voice was thoughtful. “I think it was the promise that someday your arms would be around me, comforting me ... but that sounds stupid. That’s not possible.”

“Everything is possible.” Felix stroked her hair, studying the varying colors of brown in the sunlight. “Remember I said that voodoo works if you believe... this is the same thing.”

“Then I believe,” she said, shifting so she was completely facing him. “I believe.”

So he did.

And he knew they weren’t just talking about invisible arms.

Felix held Regan’s hand in his as they strolled down the street. The heat of the day was fading and he was wonderfully content, satisfied physically from making love to Regan, and satisfied emotionally for the first time in a lifetime, both with himself and their relationship.

“Are you okay? Should I slow down?” she asked anxiously.

He laughed. “I’m mortal, not an infant. I’m fine. It barely hurts at all.” His back still twinged and ached with most movements, and he would always have scars on his wrists and his back, but it mattered little to him. Not when he had been given the opportunity for a whole new life, one rich in love, friends, and hopefully someday, children.

“It’s a beautiful day,” he told her. “A good day to ask you to marry me.”

Regan stopped walking altogether and stared up at him. “Are you serious? Are you actually asking me?”

“Yes. I love you. Be my wife.” Maybe not the most romantic proposal in the world, but Felix figured it was to the point.

A smile split her face. “Yes. I will marry you.” She threw her arms around him and kissed him, then pulled back quickly. “Sorry, sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No. You could never hurt me.” Felix kissed her back then raised his hand in greeting over her head. “Chris and Nelson are here. They’re actually on time for dinner, it’s amazing.”

Regan whirled around and yelled, “We’re getting married!”

“Shut
up!” Chris said. “I totally saw this coming.”

“Congratulations,” Nelson said.

“Thanks.” Felix shook hands and Regan received hugs.

“I’m starving,” Chris said after all the greeting and hugging had subsided. “And I need a cocktail to celebrate. Where are we eating?”

“Nola,” Nelson demanded. “I have a thing for Emeril.”

No one objected, so they started walking. The path took them past the house on Royal Street, and Felix squeezed Regan’s hand.

Regan squeezed back, staring up at the house she had fallen in love with, the one she had just listed for sale. It wasn’t hers, it never had been, and the ghosts of the past would always linger. It was time for the house to have a new history, and for her and Felix to build a life together in the tiny colorful turquoise house on St. Ann.

A guide had a group of tourists paused in front of the house, all wearing their tour stickers on their T-shirts. Chris and Nelson wandered ahead, arguing over various celebrity chefs’ sexual orientations, but Regan stopped and listened to the guide.

“One of the most imposing and beautiful houses in the French Quarter, this residence has been the scene of many a tragedy and is haunted by more than one ghost. The original owner died in the yellow fever epidemic of 1878, along with his wife and four of his daughters. His youngest daughter survived, only to commit suicide by throwing herself off the balcony a few months later. Her ghost is often seen on the balcony, hair flowing behind her. The cries of her family suffering from yellow fever are often heard late at night.”

Regan really doubted that, since she had never heard one word from the Comeaux family, but it made a good story.

The guide continued. “A later owner also committed suicide here, and just a few weeks ago the house was the scene of tragedy and drama yet again. The current resident came down into the very same courtyard you see before you where that young woman died so long ago, to find that her boyfriend had been stabbed by her ex-husband. While she called 911, the ex ran off, and now a couple of weeks later, he’s still missing and wanted by the police. Prominent local lawyer and everything. Big scandal.”

“Did the boyfriend die?” a teenage girl asked.

“No, he survived, but I’m guessing that relationship is on the rocks.” The man winked. “Love hurts, doesn’t it?”

Felix scoffed beside her and Regan gave a short laugh. The guide noticed them. “Listen, y’all, if you want to hear the story, you’re going to have to pay for the tour.”

Regan shook her head and smiled. “No, thanks. I already know this story.”

As they moved down the sidewalk, leaving the past behind, Felix pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “And it has a happy ending.”

Keep reading for a preview of
the next contemporary romance
by Erin McCarthy

 

Coming soon from Berkley Sensation!

“I banged the bride. I feel a little funny about standing up for her husband at their wedding.”

Ryder Jefferson almost shot beer out of his nose at his friend Ty’s words. Swallowing hard, choking on the liquid and his laughter, he said, “Well, it’s not like you slept with her after they started dating, so who cares? In fact, as I recall, she was still dating you when she started sleeping with him. So, yeah, I guess you’re right. That is awkward, McCordle, since you got tossed over.”

Not that he would ever rib his friend about that if his heart had been involved, but Ryder knew Ty had been halfheartedly dating Nikki Borden at best. It had been a relief to all parties involved when Nikki had trysted with Jonas Strickland and gotten engaged.