HIS BODY stilled all movement, and when I looked at him, I saw his hungry gaze exploring every inch of my exposed skin. It was the first time he’d been able to study my body, and he appeared appreciative.

For a brief moment, I squirmed under the intensity of his stare, but as a soft smile turned his mouth upward—the same dreamy smile he’d worn when he’d spotted me—I was empowered.

“Goddamn it, Evie,” he muttered. “You are so beautiful.”

A soft blush crept over my body. He made me feel wanted both with his actions and his words. It made me desire him all the more.

Unable to stay unconnected for even a moment more, we moved closer simultaneously. Our lips met in the middle with a ferocity that was rivaled only by the heat my body was generating. My tongue stroked against his lips, pleading for entrance, which he gave without pause.

He clutched at me, drawing me against his chest until there was barely a breath between us. His heart pounded against my chest, as if it were trying to leap between us to join with mine. I trailed my mouth over his jaw, nipping and sucking, attempting to return some small portion of the pleasure he was granting to me with the thrusts of his hips and strokes of the tongue. He claimed my mouth again, his tongue almost punishing in its exploration. My stomach clenched as I ignored the need to break apart to take a breath.

With his next movement, Clay twisted us around so that my back was flat on the mattress. Leaning over my body, he kissed me again. One of his hands pressed against the blanket beside my head. He lifted the other to play in my hair.

When his lips left mine, he trailed kisses down along my curves. It was like every part of his body was designed to fit perfectly against mine. His fingertips blazed a trail across my skin. Every inch he touched smoldered until his lips followed behind to soothe the flames.

As he crawled down my body, he caressed my breasts with his expert fingers and warm mouth, kneading and sucking, nipping and squeezing. His tongue and teeth worked together with his fingertips to bring me to heights of passion I’d never even dreamed of. Each and every fantasy I’d had of him had nothing on the reality of his touch. My back arched with delight as he tortured me exquisitely, and still, I needed more. I clutched at his arms trying to bring him back to me, but he continued on his path.

Trailing his kisses lower, warming my stomach and promising at delights still to come, his fingers teased my sides softly. Butterflies rolled through my stomach, rising to meet his lips with a flutter of my skin at each soft ministration. I wanted to pull his body back up mine so that I could show him how much I liked what he was doing, but selfishly decided that I didn’t want my own pleasure to stop.

When he reached the edge of the bed, he planted one knee between my legs and one hand beside my waist as he hovered his body over mine. With reverent attention, he traced my body from my breasts to my hip bones with his hands. His eyes trailed his hands with a rapt gaze.

Once he reached my hips, he hooked his fingers into the sides of my panties and, without waiting for further permission, dragged them down my legs. As he threw the last of my clothes aside, he pushed off the mattress to stand in front of me and gazed at me with such longing that I was left breathless. I didn’t have a chance to grow self-conscious as a stream of compliments flowed from his lips at what he saw.

He nudged my legs apart and fell to his knees between them before pressing small kisses against my inner-thighs. With a deliberate, slow precision he trailed his lips upward, closing in to the parts of me where the fires burned hottest. My skin flinched and twitched beneath his soft ministrations, each sensation simultaneously too much to bear but nowhere near enough.

“Please, Clay!” I cried out with need, not knowing what exactly I was pleading for but certain he was the only one who could deliver it.

My stomach clenched as his breath blew out over my heated flesh before he moved forward and grazed his lips against the apex of my thighs. My fingers trailed into his hair, and I tugged it as his tongue caressed me intimately.

“Oh god!” The words flew from me without conscious thought. With his mouth on me, it was hard to concentrate on anything, but a longing to be connected with him again struck me.

Even though I wanted him to keep going, and going, I pushed him from me, ignoring the little whimper he gave as I did. Then I sat up to get closer to him, drawing his lips back to mine, not even caring that I could taste myself on him.

I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed the thin material off his shoulders. As my fingers trailed over his pecs, his muscles flinched under my touch. Without a pause, he wrapped his arms around me and held me securely against his bare chest, almost lifting me off the bed. Any worries that my ever-increasing heat would be a turn off for him was dispelled as he held me closer than he ever had.

Standing, he removed his jeans and boxer shorts—pushing them to the ground and kicking them off with desperate speed. I rested back on my elbows to watch his actions and was not disappointed. He was completely naked except for his gold chain and the Rain pendant hanging around his throat.

My gaze explored his body as closely as he had mine, drinking in the visual evidence of the changes the years on the road had done to his body. A number of scars of various size and age marred his almost perfect skin. Although I could recall the hints of scars that I’d seen in Charlotte, I’d never seen him completely undressed before, so I couldn’t be sure which ones he’d always had or how many he’d acquired in the time we’d been apart. Certainly some looked more recent than others, even crisscrossing over older wounds in places. I wanted to follow the patterns they made with my tongue just as desperately as I wanted to know the story behind each one. I followed the patterns lower until my gaze reached his lower abs, which formed an arrow pointing straight to the part of him that I was now craving.

I gulped down a breath as I eyed his thick erection. I was so ready for him; this was too many years overdue. Just as I pushed myself up to sit properly again, to get a better view—to touch and to taste—Clay cleared his throat.

Lifting my gaze to his face, I paused at the slightly amused expression I found there.

“You done ogling?” he asked with a raised brow.

I shook my head with a grin. “Not even close.”

He grinned, before his mouth fell and he turned ashen. “Shit.”

“What?” I pushed myself farther off the bed and strained my ears. Had he heard something outside the door? My escape from his brother filled my head and my heart raced. “What is it?” My words refused to flow easily.

“Fuck. I didn’t think, Evie. I mean, I thought, but I forgot. In the rush to get everything. I forgot. Fuck!”

I frowned in confusion. “What did you forget?”

He sighed. “It’s been a while, and, well, I didn’t stop to get any protection.”

Relief trickled down my body—it wasn’t his family. It was a normal concern. A boyfriend type of concern. I laughed. “It’s okay.”

“Stupid.” He smacked his forehead.

“Clay, they, umm, they don’t work for me anyway. Heat and latex?” I scrunched up my nose. “Not a good mix.”

He frowned before shaking his head, as if trying to dislodge a bad thought. His hand scrubbed at the back of his neck, the movement causing his abdomen muscles to flex and contract, and making his erection twitch. My mouth watered with want and as the relief that his pause wasn’t anything to do with his family or immediate danger trickled through me, it bought a renewed sense of need.

Clay still seemed a little hesitant though.

“Is there anything I need to be worried about?” I asked in a gentle voice.

“No,” he said. “I’ve, ah”—he cleared his throat—“I’ve always been careful.”

“Then we’ll be fine.” I smiled to reassure him. It wasn’t like I could get pregnant; my nature saw to that. If he said he was always careful, I was willing to go on a little bit of faith.

His gaze traveled over my body, burning a path as it went, and I could tell he was weighing up the risks. I could see the exact second his body took over the decision and made it impossible for him to stop.

Nodding his head, he indicated that I should shift farther up the bed. I scuttled backward without argument and with a giggle rushing from my lips. He climbed back onto the bed, stalking my movements until he reached me. When he had, he wrapped his arms around me and tenderly touched his lips to mine.

Pouring every emotion into my kisses, I demonstrated what a few years of pent up desire and hope for our reunion had done to me. I wanted him to know how much I needed him. That regardless of how much I’d changed since the last time we’d met, I still felt the same way about him.

About us.

He kissed me with the same fervor. Our tongues revealed all of our secrets without words. Without thought or confirmation, our bodies shifted so that we were aligned perfectly. His erection pressed against my thigh, making my mouth water with want all over again. I was so desperate and ready for him. All I wanted was for him to tilt his hips forward. Instead, he lifted his lips from mine and peppered light kisses along my throat.

While he lavished attention on me, he propped himself up on one elbow. With his free hand, he trailed his fingers through my hair and down one of my cheeks. Every path his fingertips took was on fire. His gaze shifted back to my face after I issued a small sigh. It was as if he was concentrating on the two features that set me apart from everybody else. The ones that labeled me a monster to so many.

Rather than being repulsed by them though, he seemed in awe of me. I’d never experienced so much love or desire. His burning touch was more than anything Brian or Aiden had ever been able to achieve. Nothing had ever been so right.

“So beautiful,” he said again when I met his gaze.

His words inspired a warmth to rush over my body. He tipped his head forward and his lips caressed mine.

“Clay, please.” I panted when he drew away. “I’ve waited long enough for you.”

A small frown marred his forehead as his free hand trailed lazy circles over my skin. Love echoed through every movement; yet he made no move to take our union further.

It was almost as if he’d stalled at the last, vital second.

I met his gaze again and hidden in the depths of his chocolate irises, beneath the layers of desire and love, was the smallest hint of fear. I had no idea what he was afraid of. It was logical, given how he’d been raised, that he might have been afraid of me, but I didn’t think that was what it was.

Not when his eyes burned with a need so fierce.

The words I’d uttered ran through my mind. As they did, his concern made some sense. I’d told him twice now that I’d dreamed of this moment. Longed for it. The weight of the expectations that came with such a wait was enormous. As his tender ministrations continued, I became more convinced that he was afraid to let me down.

Or maybe the opposite was true.

Regardless, I just needed to show him what I knew to be true . . . that us together would be perfect. It was impossible to imagine anything less.

Reaching one arm behind his neck, I guided his lips back to mine. As his tongue traced my lips, I trailed my other hand down between our bodies and lined up his erection with my entrance. Without giving him a chance to resist, I pushed my hips forward.

His cry of pleasure as he entered me was muffled by my kisses, but my bold move was all it took for him to become a man possessed. Without any hesitation, he rocked his hips forward to press deeper. With each new thrust, he pushed further into me. Our union was so perfect, I was left breathless and desperate for more. Each thrust sent me into new heights. I’d been wrong to think I’d ever made love before—nothing could hold a candle to being with Clay.

Holding me close to him, he spun us around so he was on top.

“Fuck, Evie,” he whispered against my throat as he slid himself almost all the way out before rushing back in.

He set a relentless rhythm. When I sat back, his free hand clutched at my hair, my shoulder, my hips, anywhere and everywhere seemingly all at once. I wrapped my legs around his waist, granting him more room for movement, and finding a deeper angle.

His pupils were wide, making his eyes appear black and feral with need, when he looked at me. Now that he was free of the fear of disappointment—his or mine—his rhythm was almost punishing, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted him deeper, closer. Lips to lips, body to body, we held each other until he tumbled over the edge of oblivion, and with his fingers brought me trailing right behind.

 

 

WHEN I woke, I was nestled into the nook between Clay’s armpit and chest and the room was dark. With the thick curtains, it was impossible to tell whether it was midnight or mid-morning, but the time didn’t matter. What mattered was how perfect the moment was. How wonderful it was being back by Clay’s side and knowing that we’d face whatever came next together. I closed my eyes again and breathed in his scent. After a moment, his fingers began to stroke a repetitive pattern up and down my arm.

“You awake?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said in a voice thick with sleep and tinged with desire.

I opened my eyes and glanced up at his face. I caught him staring at me with such a tender expression that my breath caught in my throat. His breathing sped as a slow smile spread across his lips. “I’m having such a hard time,” he admitted softly.

My heart clenched at his words, which were in direct contrast to the love radiating from him. “With what?” I asked.

He blew out a shaky breath. “With trusting that this is real. I’ve imagined it so many times that it’s hard to believe you’re actually here.”

I twisted in his arms and pressed a kiss against his chest. “Believe it,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere without you.” Not again, I added in my head.

“What was it like for you? You know . . . after.”

I scoffed. “Harder than you could imagine.”

I hadn’t meant the words with any malice, but he flinched beneath me in reaction to them, or possibly the regret they caused him.

I pushed myself up off the bed. “Don’t do that,” I admonished.

He frowned.

“I told you how I feel about ‘what-ifs.’ We’re here now, together, that’s what matters.”

I pressed my hand against his chest; his heart beat a steady rhythm against my palm. “This is what matters.”

He looked away from me, his guilt obviously still working through his system. I wrapped myself around him again.

“So when did you . . .” he cleared his throat. “You know.”

Lifting my head a little, I got a better view of his discomfort, which I found endearing. “When did I what?”

He dragged his hand through his hair. I figured it was his back-up nervous tick because his neck was pressed against the pillow. “When was your first time?”

I dropped my head back to rest on his arm. I’d known the question was going to come up before long, and I only hoped Clay could understand the choices I’d made. “About a year after you left.”

He shifted beneath me obviously, not happy with the topic even though he’d been the one to raise it. “Did you love him?”

I shook my head. “He wasn’t anyone special, just some guy. It was a very dark time for both of us, and we kind of began to rely on each other. We were both lonely and, well, one night we were drinking away our sorrow when one thing led to another. I just wanted to feel loved again.”

“What happened?”

Wrapping my arms around Clay, I said, “I was stupid. I showed him . . . what I can do.”

Clay frowned.

“He called me a freak and threatened to call the police.”

I held onto Clay in a way that anchored me to reality and reminded me that I wasn’t in that place any longer.

“There was one other, one who didn’t care about my heat or the strange things I can do.”

He rubbed my arm reassuringly. “Tell me about him?”

“We probably could have had a chance at happiness, if I’d stayed,” I said quietly, knowing that as hard as it was for me to talk about that time in my life, it must have been equally as difficult for Clay to hear it. “His joy for life was infectious and with his large family, he might have been able to keep me safe. But one day I realized I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. When I was with him, I couldn’t get you out of my head. He saved my life, and I thanked him by walking away.” I looked up at Clay, hoping that he’d understand the things I needed to tell him about Aiden. “In some ways, he was probably perfect for me.”

“Why?” Clay lifted his hand up and rested it underneath his head.

I missed his touch instantly. “He . . . he wasn’t human either.”

“He wasn’t human?” Clay rolled away from me and sat bolt upright. “What was he?”

“Does it matter?” I asked. The shift in his emotions left me uneasy. We were talking about ancient history. Who, or more specifically what, Aiden was had no bearing on anything anymore.

“It matters to me.”

“Fae,” I said quietly.

“You were mixed up with fairies?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing,” he snapped.

“It was a Seelie court,” I said. He had to know the difference.

“As if that fucking matters,” Clay sneered.

I couldn’t help but take his attack personally even though it was aimed at the fae. It was a judgement on my choices when it came to Aiden. “He was kind to me, his whole court was nice to me; they welcomed me and treated me like one of their own.”

“Fae aren’t friendly, Evie,” he snapped.

I flinched against the harsh, bitter edge to his words and pulled out from his slackened arms. Shifting away from him, I pulled the bed sheet over me and ran my fingers through my hair.

“They aren’t nice. They tortured my sister for years. They did things to her that no child should ever have to experience, and they did it for what reason? Fun?” His voice was edging toward hysteria.

“That wasn’t my experience,” I retorted. Regardless of my love for Clay, I had to defend Aiden and his family. After all, the fae had taken care of me when I didn’t have the wherewithal to take care of myself. Whatever Clay’s opinion of them, and despite how it had ended with Aiden, my memories of my time with the fae would always be fond ones. First they had saved my life, and then they’d saved my happiness—by helping me find Clay. “Aiden helped me when I wasn’t interested in helping myself. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here with you now.”

Even from my position perched on the edge of the bed, I could hear his teeth grinding together. I twisted around, willing him to put his prejudice down to the way he was raised and move on. I may have owed the fae everything, but I couldn’t let loyalty to them cost me Clay.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” I said. “It’s in the past.”

“You’re not the only one with a past,” he growled as he rolled away from me.

“I know there were others for you too,” I said, as my tears threatened to steal my voice. It was evident in every move he’d made, every place he’d touched.

“You don’t want to know how many times I tried to screw you out of my system.”

A sob rose in my throat. I wanted him to stop tormenting me with his past as punishment for my choice, but I was struck motionless by a morbid sense of curiosity. I couldn’t turn to face him, or ask him to stop. Every detail was important regardless of how hard it was to hear. I closed my eyes as he continued to talk.

“For the longest time, I wanted to do what was right for my family. Even though I couldn’t regret the fact that you were alive, I did feel guilty that I’d betrayed them.” With each word his tone turned softer, as if his speech was reminding himself of the reasons we were at the hotel together. “Then I felt guilty for leaving you like I had. I can’t lie; I struggled with it. I tried so hard to stop thinking about you, but I just couldn’t.”

He crawled out from under the sheet and moved closer to me. As soon as he was close enough, he wrapped one arms around my waist. He planted a soft kiss against my shoulder, his hair brushing against my neck as he did. The instant I was in his hold, my anger and hurt dissipated. I relaxed against him in the darkness.

“I worried whether or not you were safe, whether you’d been caught. Even whether you had enough to eat. Then I felt guilty for thinking those things. I tried to convince myself that I couldn’t love you—that it just wasn’t possible because we’d only known each other for such a short time.”

Guiding us back down until we were lying side by side on the bed, he rolled onto his side and wrapped me in his hold.

“None of the girls felt right. They all felt cold and distant. I wanted the warmth I’d felt during our first kiss.” He kissed my neck softly. “I wanted you.”

“You have me,” I said, snuggling back against his body.

“And I’m never going to leave your side again. I promise.”