Chapter 22
Twilight? I frowned. It had been noon when I’d entered the bar.
Beside me, Tommy gasped, looking at the dark sky.
“Um, guess I was in there longer than I thought,” he said.
“Yeah, we all were.” How did I lose the entire afternoon in the bar? “We should go.”
After all, we couldn’t loiter on the front stairs. I looked down. The steps were a treacherous obstacle in my grave-sight, the poured cement crumbled and the wooden rail rotted. The fact I was still trembling uncontrollably wasn’t going to help me get down them. Best to take it slow.
I still had one hand locked with Falin, but he wasn’t swaying anymore—the dancing appeared to have cleared his head a bit. I stepped down the first stair, and it crumbled under my feet. I grabbed for the rail. The rotted wood snapped as my weight hit it. Falin and Tommy grabbed my elbows and hauled me back up.
“Uh, Alex, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you just broke a stair and the rail,” Tommy said.
I blinked. “That’s not possible.” I looked back at the toppled rail and crumbled step. When I used my gravesight, I interacted with multiple planes of existence, but they didn’t touch. I stared at the destruction. They do now.
I glanced at Tommy, and he winced, dropping my arm.
“Your eyes are doing the creepy glowing thing,” he said, taking a step back.
I frowned at his obvious distrust and turned away.
Weirder by the day—that’s me. I considered the stairs.
There was no way I was going to make it down the full flight if every step crumbled under my feet. I was safer blind. I looked up at Falin. “I won’t be able to see when I release my grave-sight.”
He nodded, his hand moving from my elbow to my waist. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the coming blindness, when Tommy cleared his throat.
“So, uh, since Alex obviously isn’t going to introduce us, I’m Tommy.”
“We’ve met,” Falin said without looking up at Tommy.
He wrapped his other arm around my waist and dragged me closer. Then his hands moved to my bare arms, rubbing them. “You’re like a little ice princess.” He leaned forward as if he was going to kiss me again, and I stepped back.
Tommy put a hand in his hair, scratching the back of his head.“Okay, I feel like a third wheel, so I’ll leave you to it. Nice seeing you,Alex.” He took off down the stairs and turned up the sidewalk without a backward glance.
“Call Tamara; she’s worried about you,” I yelled after him.
Falin’s fingers traced a curl from behind my ear to my collarbone, and I shivered for a reason that had nothing to do with the cold. I turned toward him.
“You’re drunk.”
“Pixie brandy,” he agreed.
Great—so how are we getting home? A yellow—and to my eyes rusted-out—car was parked up the street, a small taxi light glowing on the top. I pointed to it. “Get us in that taxi.”
Falin nodded, and I released my touch on the grave, closing my shields. Darkness fell before my eyes, the chill wrapping tighter around me. I clung to Falin, letting him guide me down the stairs. I stumbled on the way up the street, my shaking too unstable to keep my legs under me. Falin wasn’t completely steady, either.
A door opened, and Falin guided me into the backseat of the cab. He slid in behind me, and I drew my legs to my chest, trying to trap some body heat. It didn’t help.
My teeth chattered, shivers wracking my body.
“Where to?” a gruff voice in the front seat asked.
“Uh …” I mumbled as Falin rattled off my address.
“I charge the estimate up front in this neighborhood,” the cabbie said.
Falin grumbled under his breath, but the seat moved as he reached for his wallet. “Keep the change,” he said as he reached around me.
The cabbie grunted his thanks, and Falin tapped something plastic near my head.
“Close this partition, will you?” he said.
Another grunt issued from the front seat. Then a small motor cut on, and the noise from the front of the cab faded. The plastic seat squeaked as Falin settled back and dropped an arm around my shoulders.
“You stopped the dance,” he whispered.
I shrugged, only half paying attention. Now that we were safely speeding away from the club, the adrenaline that had been spiking through me and providing at least a false source of warmth was fading, leaving me trembling harder than before. Falin’s arm emanated heat where it draped around me, and I scooted closer to him, snuggling up to his warmth.
I’d planned on stopping there—really, I had—but his arms slid around my waist and gathered me into his lap. Loose tendrils of his hair fell forward on my cheeks, silky soft and warm from being close to his skin. They smelled clean, spicy. My hand rose to the hair, following it until I reached his face. My fingers traced the curve of his jaw up to his ear and then trailed the sharp angle of his cheek until I found the crease of his mouth. I traced the curve of his bottom lip, and his hand moved from my back to my neck.
With his fingers curling in my hair, he pulled me forward until I could feel his breath tumbling over my lips.
Then he closed that space.
The kiss was gentle, his lips firm but giving, and warmth spread through me. I sighed against his mouth. The hand caught in my hair tightened, drawing me harder against him. His tongue dipped between my lips, bringing with it the honey taste of pixie brandy.
Pixie brandy?
I reeled backward, and he growled, dragging me to his mouth again. His lips were more demanding now, but as his tongue flicked into my mouth, it teased, taunting me to follow it into his mouth as it retreated. I shouldn’t be doing this. But he was so warm.
And the hard planes of his chest begged to be explored.
My palms slid down, following the hard ripple of muscle until I reached the place where the shirt disappeared into his pants. Tugging the shirt free, I splayed my fingers over the warm skin of his stomach. He made a sound deep in his throat, and my heart skipped. Of their own volition, my hands moved higher, finally learning the answer to the question I’d had since seeing him in his kitchen. Smooth. The material of his shirt tangled around my wrists, stopping my progress. I tugged at the material in frustration. He shifted, and the movement freed the tension in the fabric.
I didn’t realize he’d unbuttoned my shirt until his hand slid through the gaping cloth, his warm fingers gliding up the edge of my rib cage. The skin over my stomach tightened at his touch, awareness spiraling much lower than his fingers had traveled. As his thumb dipped below the top of my jeans I moaned into his mouth.
Rough fingers grabbed my shoulder, pulling me backward.
I yelped, my back arching as the hand seared my skin through the thin layer of my blouse.
“Enough of that,” the cabbie yelled without releasing my shoulder. “Wait till you get out the car.”
The vehicle had stopped. I hadn’t even noticed. The click of the door opening sounded from my left, and the cabbie finally let go. I was still sitting in Falin’s lap, so I gingerly felt my way out of the back of the cab. The night breeze against my chest reminded me my shirt was still unbuttoned, and I gripped it closed with one hand, the other remaining on the side of the cab.
I could feel the familiar ambience of Caleb’s magic in front of me, but without help, I wasn’t going to find my way to the stairs without a lot of blind fumbling.
Falin didn’t leave me lost. After slamming the cab door, he wrapped his arms around me.
I pushed away from him. “We should go inside.”
His hair fell forward, brushing my cheek. A nod? He scooped me into his arms and swayed as he took the stairs one at a time.
“I can walk.”
He didn’t put me down.
I fidgeted with the buttons on the front of my shirt, trying to refasten them one-handed.
“Stop,” Falin said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m looking at those.”
He shook me gently, and I threw my arms around his neck to steady myself. The fabric of my shirt slid back apart.
“That’s better,” he said, and heat rushed to my cheeks.
Is he really staring at my chest? I couldn’t see, so I couldn’t tell, but my traitorous body flooded with heat at the thought.
He lowered me to my feet at the top of the stairs, and I dug through my purse for my keys. I fumbled for the lock, the keys jingling in time to my trembling. He took the keys from me, unlocking and pushing open the door.
The house wards slid over me as he dragged me inside.
His lips found mine before the door shut. He backed me against the wall, and his gloved hands roamed my stomach. Dropped away. Returned gloveless. His bare fingers roved my body, his mouth never leaving mine.
His thumbs hitched under the wire of my bra, and I trembled. God, I need this. But … I pushed back, gasping for air as our lips broke apart. He didn’t relent. When I turned away, his lips trailed up my jaw, leaving small kisses in their wake.
“You’re drunk,” I whispered.
“So?” He nipped at a soft spot of skin where my jaw and neck connected. His blunt teeth grazing the skin sent another tremble through me, my mind blanking out for a moment.
I pushed against his shoulders hard. With my back against the wall, something had to give, and he wasn’t quite as strong as the wood.
“So, there was a spell in the brandy. It’s affecting your judgment.”
He swore under his breath and grabbed my wrists, pulling my palms from his shoulder. He leaned in until his words rolled across my lips in puffs of his breath.
“You think I wouldn’t do this if I weren’t drunk?”
To demonstrate which “this” he meant, his lips closed over mine. The kiss was restrained, breaking almost before it began. My stomach flipped, craving the passion of a moment before. Stupid, Alex. This is a bad idea.
I shook my head. No. If he weren’t drunk, we wouldn’t be here.
He kissed me again, his tongue dipping in my mouth before he broke away. “I would.” He whispered the words directly into my lips, and I moaned. We were close enough that I could feel his lips stretch into a smile at the sound.
His thumbs hooked under my bra and lifted so his fingers could trace the curves of my breasts.
“Stop.” The word came out more a gasp than a command.
His fingers paused but didn’t withdraw. “Why?”
“We shouldn’t … If you weren’t drunk, you wouldn’t—”
“Are you telling me what I would and wouldn’t do?” he asked, his lips dropping to my throat.
One hand slipped free of my bra and circled around my back. His fingers landed on the bra clasp and in one quick movement unsnapped it. His other hand took advantage of the slack and cupped my breast, his thumb circling my nipple.
I gasped again, my lips moving without words. Falin took it as an invitation, his tongue dancing into my mouth so there was no room left to protest.
I pulled back, wiggling away from where he’d pinned me to the wall.
“Coffee?” I asked breathlessly, desperate for a distraction.
He didn’t give up but grabbed my arm. “You know, for someone with your reputation, you are amazingly difficult to get into bed.”
My mouth fell open, and my hand shot out. My palm contacted his shoulder, doing no damage at all besides smarting my hand. He laughed, drawing me into the circle of his arms. Irritated, I shoved him for good measure, and he swayed. Right. Forgot he’s drunk.
He righted himself easily and then scooped me off my feet. Air rushed around me as he tossed me; then I landed with a bounce on the bed. The mattress shifted as he crawled on after me.
“Does that mean I’m different from other drunks you pick up?” he asked, pushing the blouse off my shoulders.
His fingers brought goose bumps to my arm as he traced my collarbone. His lips followed his fingers, carefully avoiding the scratches at the far edge.
“No. It’s—”
His teeth grazed my skin, cutting off my words. His fingers dug into my sides, then released one at a time, as if he was prying them off. Air moved by me as he looked up. His hand moved to my chin, tilting my head back as if my blind eyes could meet his.
“If I’m not different, then I’m just another man you’ve picked to chase off your grave-chill with my body heat. And you are just a woman whose body will help me ignore the spelled drink surging through my system.”
My stomach twisted at the words. Just a woman? Just a body? But he was right. We were exactly what each other needed at the moment. Nothing more.
I nodded, slipping out of my shirt. Then I slid to the edge of the bed and worked at my bootlaces.
His hands slid down my arms, stilled my fingers.
“What are you doing?”
I frowned. “It’s shoes—especially boots. There is never a good time to take them off during spontaneous sex. I’m getting it out of the way now. You should do the same.”
“Alexis,” he whispered, “shut up.”
My eyes flew wide, but his mouth closed on mine, cutting off my protest—my will to protest. Then he broke off and his hands moved to my boots, removing them methodically and far too slowly. The sooner we lose our clothes, the sooner the awkward part is over.
With my boots off, he moved me to the center of the bed, the mattress creaking as he followed. My fingers moved to the button on my jeans, but Falin caught my hands.
“Let me do it.”
He lowered the zipper, one small click at a time, and kissed a line down my body as he unzipped. His hair trailed over me, wrapping me in his scent. My heartbeat, which I’d almost gotten under control, picked up tempo again. He paused at my breasts, moving his hand to cup one as he caught my nipple between his teeth. I moaned and pushed at my jeans, eager to be rid of them. He caught my wrist, pulling my hand away from my jeans as he guided me back to the bed.
He pinned both of my hands by my sides without losing contact with my breast. He sucked my breast more, his mouth and teeth grazing against the sensitive skin just enough to make me gasp. I struggled in his grasp.
I needed more flesh against my body, and we needed a lot less clothing. Fast. He didn’t release me but kept my wrists captive even as he transferred his attention to my other nipple.
I was making low whimpering noises by the time his mouth left my breasts and traveled back to the center of my body. His tongue flicked out to circle my belly button and then moved downward. Tingles of awareness ran through me as his mouth moved to the swell of my hips, and he finally released my wrists so he could peel away my pants.
With my hands finally free, I wanted to touch him.
All of him. But I could reach only his hair, his shoulders.
I pulled at his shirt, my inarticulate words trying to command it to get off him. I pushed myself up, trying to reach the buttons, but he forced me back to the mattress.
“Stay still,” he commanded. “I want to look at you.”
“That’s not fair.”
He didn’t answer. He slipped the last stitch of clothing off me, and I shivered. Without his hands on me, the chill he’d been holding off crept over me. I fought the urge to squirm.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
I blinked. This wasn’t what I was used to, and I couldn’t stay still any longer. I pushed myself up and rolled to my knees, reaching for him. I followed the line of his arms to his shoulders, then down his chest, pulling at the buttons of his shirt as I went. I was looking for flesh—as much flesh as I could touch at one time.
My lips trailed down the string of muscle in his neck.
The button in the center of his shirt gave me trouble. I tugged until it popped free of the thread. Pushing the shirt down his shoulders, I let my hands rove over his sculpted chest.
Touching wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. My lips found the hollow of his throat, and my tongue flicked out, claiming the soft skin. Falin made a sound low in his throat, and I flicked out my tongue again.
His hand caught in my hair, guiding my face up. Our tongues met, dancing in each other’s mouths. I kissed him as if his mouth held my life. I’d abandoned myself to this, to him. Tonight, only tonight. I didn’t think I could kiss him enough to satisfy me.
His hand splayed down my stomach, caressed my inner thighs, and then found the centermost part of me.
His finger dipped into me, his thumb finding my nub, and I moaned. His mouth consumed the sound as he dipped another finger in me.
I was panting into his mouth. “Please,” I whispered. I needed more. More touch. More of him. His finger pace picked up, making me quiver. His mouth drank my gasps.
I tugged at the button on his jeans, frantic as I rolled them down his hips. No boxers underneath. My fingers trailed down over his ass, and my nails raked lightly over the firm skin. Then my fingers glided up over the bones of his hips and down his flat lower abs. I reached curls. I wrapped both hands around him. The feel of him—hard, ready, in my hands—brought another sound from me.
Falin matched the sound, his fingers losing rhythm for a heartbeat. I wanted this. I wanted him.
I dropped my shields, letting the grave back into my body. The world decayed around me, but Falin snapped into focus, his sculpted body glowing with ethereal light.
He was handsome glamoured; he was almost too amazing to look at unglamoured. It wasn’t that he looked different; he was just so much more. More real, more handsome. Just more. Sleagh Maith.
“What are you doing?” he whispered, his hand falling away.
“I want to see.” I needed to see.
I trailed my fingers down his chest, watching the skin tighten in my wake. I reached the curls as light as snow and ran my fingers along his length lightly, using just the softest touch of nails. He groaned and grabbed my hand.
His fingers splayed through mine, and he brought my hand to his mouth, kissing my fingers lightly. “We’re fighting the chill, remember? Not increasing it.”
He didn’t understand. I wanted to see. I needed to see him. I lifted my mouth to his, watching his eyes as we kissed, eyes so icy blue but so warm. When we broke away, I licked my bottom lip, still tasting him there.
He guided me back down onto the bed.“Let go. Trust me, and let go.”
He kissed one side of my mouth and then the other side. “Trust me,” he whispered.
I released my touch on the grave, surrendering to a darkness filled with his touch.
He kissed a line down my body until his breath rested against my thighs. Then his tongue flicked inside me. My heartbeat crashed in my chest, and warmth rushed low in me, building.
“Please, Falin, please,” I whispered as his tongue flicked out again and again, sending my body spiraling.
“Please what?” he asked, once I was sure I would break in two at any moment.
I was beyond rational thought. Beyond complete sentences.
“Please,” I whispered again, breathless.
His smile stretched against my skin. “As my ice princess commands.” His body crawled up mine. His kiss stole what little air I had left. The head of him pressed heavy against my opening, and I arched upward against him.
I was more than ready, but he slid in slowly, filling me.
More than filling me.
Yes.
Heat surged through me, and he pressed himself deeper. I gasped, and he stilled above me.
“Am I hurting you?”
Words failed me. I shook my head. Arched against him again. “More.”
He lifted his hips slowly, his pace too controlled. Too gentle. I dug my nails into his ass and dragged him into me harder. Moved to meet him. He made a sound like surprise in his throat, but he met my pacing.
My body clenched. Pressure built to pleasure so thick it could have been pain. My back arched, and his measured thrusts increased again.
The new pace sent me over the edge.
I came screaming. Wave after wave of pleasure surged through me. His mouth covered mine, drinking my cries.
His pace faltered. Broke. He crashed into me one last time, pressing himself hard inside me.
We lay there, both gasping for breath. My body quivered, every nerve content. The rest are ruined. No fumbling drunk in my bed would top what I’d just felt.
I kissed his shoulder, tasting the salt of the sweat on his skin. Once in a lifetime. Even sated in the aftermath of the best orgasm of my life, a twinge of sadness touched me. Don’t be stupid, Alex; it’s just tonight. We both know it’s just tonight.
Then Falin’s lips closed on mine, his hands trailing down my body. I traced the slick line of his spine. His body stirred, still inside mine. I felt him harden.
“Again?” I asked, my voice hoarse from pleasure.
His hands stilled. “Are you up for it?”
“Oh yeah.” Maybe more than once in a lifetime.
———
Many hours later, we finally lay still in the bed, his body curled around mine. His fingers lightly curled a strand of my hair around them, but his breathing was shallow, even. I was close to sleep, happily exhausted and warm against his chest.
Then his words came, soft, barely a whisper as his lips moved across my forehead. “I’m not just a warm body.”
After that, sleep was a long time coming.