Chapter Eighteen
Well, that was more than clear enough to Nic. Abigail was her first concern. Possibly her only one. And that was how it should be. He knew he’d protect his brothers with his life.
He listened with half an ear to the conversation between Constance and her neighbor. He knew the second her sister came on the line. The tone of her voice changed and softened.
“Abigail. No, I’m okay. Don’t cry, sweetheart.” Constance swiped at the tear trailing down her cheek. Nic wanted to go to her, comfort her. He started to clear the table instead.
“How are you?”
Nic cocked his head to one side as he worked, listening in to the conversation. He didn’t feel an ounce of remorse for doing so.
“I’m okay. Tired, a little bruised.”
“Your fingers?” Constance prompted.
“Two broken ones, according to Mrs. Karsh. She wrapped them.” Abigail paused. “When are you coming home? What’s happening? Are those men still out there? Did you rescue…him.”
Nic shoved the dishes into the dishwasher. He’d forgotten that Abigail had seen him in his dragon form.
“Nic is safe. We’re both safe, for now.”
“But those people are still out there, aren’t they?” There was fear as well as resignation in Abigail’s tone.
“For now, but I’m working on that.” Constance rubbed one hand over the back of her neck.
“But you’re safe? With him?”
Again, Nic knew she was talking about him. She was right to be worried about her sister.
“I am,” she promised. “I don’t know when I’ll be home.”
Abigail gave a sound of distress. “I’m scared.”
“I know you are, baby. It will all be fine. I promise.”
Nic noted that Constance didn’t tell her sister anything about her injuries or how close to death she’d actually gotten. She was still protecting her sister.
He started loading the pans into the dishwasher. When he was done, he started the machine. Only the coffee mugs were still on the table. He figured they’d be drinking a lot more of it before the day was over.
“Remember, some of those men are still out there,” Constance warned her sister. “It’s important you stay with Mrs. Karsh and don’t go outside. Stay away from the windows, too. I’ll take care of the situation.”
There were no longer any tears in Constance’s eyes. Now she radiated a sense of purpose. Nic knew she’d keep her word. When she glanced at him, he pointed at his watch. Safe or not, it wasn’t smart to stay on the phone for long.
“Listen, I’ve got to go. Stay safe. Love you.” She ended the call and set the phone on the table. “What are we going to do?”
He knew what he was going to do. It was totally inappropriate, all things considered, but that hadn’t stopped him so far. He strode over to her, pulled her out of her chair, and kissed her.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss, one of understanding and caring. It was one of passion, of ownership. He wanted to put his stamp on her. Wanted her to know that she belonged to him, with him, in the same way he belonged to her.
She tasted like coffee, sweet and richly flavored. She was passive for all of ten seconds, and only because he’d taken her off guard by his actions. Then she kissed him back, giving him all the passion that dwelled inside of her.
Her tongue stroked his, and his cock surged against his jeans. He wanted to be naked. Needed to be inside her.
He lifted her off of her feet and turned, pressing her back against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist. She didn’t try to push him away. Not his Constance. She met his tongue stroke for stroke, speared her fingers through his hair, and yanked him closer. She was more than his match. She was his mate.
He growled and rocked his hips against her, rubbing his erection against her mound. She sucked in a breath and made a sound in the back of her throat that made his balls clench.
He kept their lower halves pressed together and pulled back. Her hair was mussed, her lips moist and swollen. She looked delicious. His hunger for food had been momentarily sated. Now other appetites were rearing their head.
“Why?”
He frowned at her question. “Why what?” He started unbuttoning the shirt she wore. It was large on her, so he only had to undo a couple of them before he had access to her breasts. They were full and firm, and he covered them with his palms.
She gasped and tilted her head back. “This? Why now?”
He stared her straight in the eyes. “Because I have to.”
…
Constance didn’t understand what had come over Nic. One second she’d been on the phone talking to her sister while he cleared away the breakfast dishes. The next, he was kissing her senseless. She wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up with her back against the wall and her legs and arms wrapped around him.
Nic muddled her senses in the best way possible.
But they had more important things that needed doing. This was no time for making love, no matter how much she craved the connection. They needed to strategize. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”
He rotated his palms and then rubbed his thumbs over the tip of her breasts. Heat, familiar and sweet, melted through her. “Maybe we should,” he countered.
“Nic.” She’d meant to sound stern. Instead, there was encouragement in her tone.
“Mmm. I can make it quick.”
They’d just had sex a short while ago. Of course, Nic wasn’t a normal man. Maybe he had a higher sex drive.
What was her excuse?
She tried to be rational, but then he slid his hand down her stomach and undid the button of her jeans. If she was going to stop him, she had to do it soon.
Did she want to stop him?
Not really, but it was probably the smart thing to do.
“The Knights. My sister. The statues.” She threw the words out there as he leaned in and nibbled on her neck.
“I don’t want to make love with them.”
His response surprised a laugh from her. He raised his head and smiled at her. A real smile that made her core damp and her skin tingle. It also made her heart swell with unspoken emotion. He was a handsome devil. “What am I going to do with you?”
His expression turned incredibly somber. She missed his open smile. “Love me,” he told her.
Her stomach churned and breathing became more difficult. She was afraid she already did love him, but it was much too soon to know for sure. Wasn’t it? There was such need, such longing in his eyes that she did the only thing she could. She dragged his head closer and kissed him.
She sensed his disappointment, but it quickly disappeared beneath the onslaught of passion that simmered just below the surface whenever they were together. She didn’t understand the connection that seemed to exist between them, but there was certainly no denying it.
He locked his hands beneath her and pulled her away from the wall. The room whirled around her, and then she was staring at the ceiling, her back flat on the kitchen table. Glass shattered on the tile floor when one of the mugs went flying.
This was crazy. This was Nic.
He was passionate and caring and so courageous.
When their lips parted, she stared up at his beloved face. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“I don’t know.”
His stark words pierced her heart. She hadn’t known just how much she’d needed his forgiveness. But he still wanted her. That made her uneasy. He wanted her, but if he could never trust her, what kind of a relationship could they have?
And maybe she was being presumptuous. Her heart was deeply involved, but maybe his wasn’t. Maybe this was all about sex.
Well, she was a big girl. She could handle it. She wanted Nic with a fever that was almost overwhelming. If he was only going to be in her life for a short time, she wanted to make the most of it. Once they found Dent and his man and handled the situation, she expected Nic to walk away.
She might never see him again.
A sense of loss, of desperation welled up inside her even though he was here with her right now. The thought of losing him made her chest hurt, the pain both emotional and physical.
“Where are you?” He cupped her head and lightly shook it from side to side, forcing her to focus on him.
“I’m here.” And she was. They could have this moment before they went to work solving the problems that still existed. This stolen time was just for them. Until Nic’s friend called back, they didn’t have a starting point.
She ran her hands over his T-shirt. “You’re wearing way too much clothing.”
His nostrils flared and he ripped the garment over his head and flung it aside. God, he was gorgeous. He was big and broad, all bone and sinew and muscle. His olive skin was warm beneath her fingers.
He slipped a hand behind her head and lifted her to meet him. Their mouths melded together with a passion that made her want to cry. This at least was honest between them. Neither of them held back when they touched.
Things got frantic very quickly.
Nic lowered her back to the table and kissed a path down her neck and across her collarbone. He gave a sexy growl when he reached her breasts. His tattoo seemed to glow and shimmer in the sunlight streaming in through the window.
He looked like a god.
He stroked his tongue over the tip of her nipple. She cried out, unable and unwilling to hold anything back.
“You like that?” He didn’t wait for an answer and did it again. She grabbed the ends of his silky hair and tried to keep him there. He laughed and nuzzled the small valley between her breasts.
She sucked in a breath when he started down her stomach, leaving a trail of hot kisses that made her skin sizzle with growing need. When he reached the top of her jeans, she held her breath.
He muttered something in a language she didn’t understand. He probably knew many languages, many of them no longer in use. The man was a walking, talking encyclopedia. He knew more about the past than any so-called world expert. Because they’d only studied it. He’d lived it.
He truly was thousands of years old.
The zipper made a metallic hiss when he lowered it. Since she wasn’t wearing any underwear, he could see her sex. He slipped his hands inside and pulled, yanking the material down her legs. It tangled around her ankles.
He gave a huff of frustration and wrestled with her sneaker. When it fell to the floor, he pulled her jeans down. He didn’t bother with the other side. He opened his own jeans, exposing his erection. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around him.
He caught her wrist and pulled her away. “No time.”
His eyes were practically glowing, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. His shaft was heavy, the blue veins pulsing with barely suppressed need.
She opened her arms to him. “Come here.”
He spread her legs wide and guided the thick head of his shaft home. She gasped when he pressed inward, but her body was becoming accustomed to his possession, and her muscles relaxed so she could take him. When he was finally balls deep, they both released a sigh of relief. He completed her in some mystical way. She’d only thought she was whole until she’d met him and learned the difference.
The heavy pulse of his shaft, the way he stretched her and filled her channel, had her panting. Without even moving, he had her close to orgasm. “Nicodemus.” She knew he liked it when she said his name. His cock flexed inside her. She deliberately squeezed her inner muscles, drawing a deep groan of pleasure from him.
Nic planted his hands on the table and leaned over her. “Hold on.” She reached up and grabbed hold of his biceps just as he began to thrust. He surged in and out, getting faster and faster with each one.
Heat spread from her core out to the rest of her body. Nic made love with an intensity that made her feel as though she was special, the only woman in the world who could fulfill him.
She knew it wasn’t true, but she still savored the moment.
He ground his pelvis against hers, circling it in a way that stimulated her clit. He kept doing it with every thrust until she was gasping for air and making inarticulate sounds because she couldn’t form actual words.
She dug her nails into his skin. She slid along the top of the smooth wooden table, but Nic kept her anchored to him. The tension built until she was ready to scream in frustration.
Then he drove deep and hit a sweet spot. His pelvis rubbed against her clit. Heat exploded from her core like a blast, rippling out to the rest of her body. She cried out, her channel rippling up and down his hard length.
…
Nic lost all sense of sight and sound when Constance came. Her sex gripped him hard, and there was no holding back. His orgasm was ripped from his balls and shot up through his shaft. He kept pumping his hips. His release went on and on. He locked his elbows to keep from collapsing on top of her.
When he was done, his lungs were working like a bellows, and he was sweating. He should have been relaxed after coming so hard. Instead, he wanted to do it again and again and again. He would never get enough of Constance, no matter how long he lived.
He raised his head and looked down. Her skin glowed, her lips were damp, and her nipples hard. As if sensing his scrutiny, she opened her eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked. He had yet to make love to her properly, spending hours touching and stroking her, bringing her to orgasm again and again before he finally took her. Around Constance, he had little control.
She licked her lips, and his cock flexed. She gave a little jerk and gasped. “I’m good.”
Things between them always seemed to get awkward the moment they were done making love. Another good reason to never stop. He craved the connection, the intimacy.
But he knew the table couldn’t be all that comfortable, and he was worried about making her sore. He slowly withdrew, gritting his jaw against the overwhelming pleasure when her sex tightened around him.
She sucked in a breath but didn’t stop him. He stepped back and pulled his jeans back over his hips and zipped them.
Constance eased off the table and began the process of untangling her jeans. He’d turned the leg inside out when he’d yanked it off of her. He started to help her, but she stopped him.
“I’ve got it.” She slid her leg into her pants and pulled them up. The shirt was only partially undone and fell into place. She quickly fastened the buttons. “Ah, I’ll be right back.” She started to scurry away, but he swept her off of her feet before she could take more than a step.
“Broken glass,” he reminded her. He leaned down with her in his arms so she could grab her sneaker. Then he carried her around the table.
“What about you?” She peered in front of him and then over his shoulder.
“It won’t hurt me,” he promised. He liked that she worried about him. Her concern was a balm to his battered soul. He wanted to keep her in his arms, so he forced himself to set her down once they were clear of the glass. “I’ll just clean up the mess.”
She peered up at him, looking uncertain. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right back.” He watched her scurry down the hallway. When she’d disappeared into his bedroom, he finally turned away.
Sure enough, both mugs had ended up on the floor. Good thing he’d cleared the rest of the dishes from the table or he’d have a real mess on his hands. It was bad enough as it was. He retrieved a broom and started sweeping up shards of glass. In the distance, he heard water running and knew she was in his bathroom cleaning up from their lovemaking.
He growled and ignored his cock, which hadn’t gone down one bit. By the time he dumped the last of the glass into the trash and returned the broom and dustpan to the utility room, she was back.
She’d not only buttoned the shirt as high as it would go, she’d combed her hair and splashed water on her face. She looked calm and composed once again. He wanted the flushed and mussed Constance back again, but he supposed this was for the best.
“So what’s our plan?” She spoke before he could.
“We wait for—” He broke off when something outside caught his attention. He tilted his head to one side and listened.
“What is it?”
He held up his hand for her to wait. Then he stalked through the living room and peered out the front window, being careful to stay out of view. The low rumble of several vehicles coming down the road was unmistakable to his extraordinary hearing.
It had to be the Knights, but how had they found his home? He slowly turned back to Constance. “We don’t need to worry about finding Dent, he’s found us. And he’s not alone.”
She appeared confused, and then fear flashed across her face before quickly disappearing.
“How did they find us?” He hadn’t meant to ask it aloud.
All color leeched from her face. “You think I betrayed you again, don’t you?”
He didn’t want to, but it was a logical explanation.
“When would I do that?” She strode toward him, fury echoing in every word. “When I was bleeding to death because they shot me? When we were making love?”
“You were alone after you showered.” He really needed to stop talking, but the words kept spewing out of him. “And again just now.”
“I don’t know where my bag is, so I don’t have a phone.”
He’d tucked it in the back of his closet. She could have found it, but it was unlikely. Relief hit him, but it was too little too late.
Then she paled. “Oh my God. My phone. The guy on the phone told me to remove the battery and SIM card. I was going to, but I got hurt and forgot. Do you think that’s how they found us?”
“Maybe.” He didn’t know how fast Dent could access those kinds of records.
“You don’t believe me, do you? You still think I may have betrayed you.” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “You know what? I’m done.” She threw her hands in the air and walked away. “We’ll deal with Dent, and if we’re both alive when it’s over, we’re done.”
Nic got a sinking feeling in his stomach that she wasn’t kidding. And that scared him more than the men currently surrounding his home.