Aflame (Apotheosis) (16 page)

“You left and it hurt like hell,” she growled back. “Don’t ever fucking do that to me again.” Grayce closed the distance between them, leapt into his arms and claimed his mouth. Damn he tasted good.

“Grayce, do you realize what you just did?” Zander mumbled under the assault on his lips.

“Hmm?” She hummed.

“You just controlled your energy.”

She chuckled, and came up for air. “Not really, I burned it off on the treadmill, lucky for you.”

Supported fully by the strength of his arms, she kissed him slow and savored the flavor of his lips as he carried her back to bed.

7

“Where did you go?” Sprawled naked and limp across Zander’s chest, Grayce straddled him with arms hung lifeless over his sides. Mind, body and soul, he was completely satiated after having brought her to the height of ecstasy three times in one hour. There hadn’t been time for talking, only sex. The bedroom was destroyed, but if that’s what it took to replete the emptiness and hunger they suffered from being separated, so be it.

Zander sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist. He could lie like that forever, never have to eat, drink or breathe again as long as he had Grayce, safe and happy by his side.

Now he had to tell her he failed. He left to find the monster and destroy him. He wanted so badly to tell her it was over, Tyr was finished, and he would never hurt her or anyone again.

“I searched everywhere. I searched the whole God damned town. That bastard is a ghost. I wanted to keep looking, but Chelsea called me back. She was right to do that. Being away from you drove me insane.” The thought of being separated from Grayce again sent a shudder through his body. She responded to his quiver by hugging him tighter.

“We need to search together, Zander.” Tender kisses trailed across his chest, no doubt planted to ease the blow of the insane suggestion thrown at him.

“Like hell.” He stiffened. “The only thing worse than being away from you, would be to put you in danger.”

“He’ll keep hurting people. Won’t stop. He wants me, and he’ll tear apart everyone on this God forsaken planet until he finds me.” A single tear rolled over his chest and down his ribcage. “We have no choice.”

Oh, he had a choice. He could kill the psychopath, rip him to shreds and leave nothing of him but a bloodstain on the ground. Even that would be too kind. Nothing short of grisly torture followed by a personal escort straight to the depths of hell would be suitable.

“No. End of discussion,” he snarled.

Grayce fell to the bed as Zander turned on his side. He assumed their usual sleeping position and pulled her into his protective embrace.

“End of discussion?” With gritted teeth and a grunt, Grayce tried to push herself free. “Fuck you. I’ll discuss this further if I damned well want to. Who in the hell do you think you are?” She kicked and punched to no avail. “This is my fight, not yours.”

A growl rose from his chest and tickled his throat. The ferocity of the warning surprised him. Driven by a primitive, dominant need to protect, Zander caged Grace. He straddled her thighs, pinned her arms to her sides and returned her fiery glare with his own. “This is my fight. You are my fight. You are my life. Get that through your thick skull. I won’t let you near him. Do you understand? Even if I have to tie you to this fucking...” He regretted the words before they left his lips to hang in the air like a poisonous gas.

Rage and hurt dulled the shine in her eyes as she sunk lifeless into the mattress beneath him.

Shit. Stupid fucking short fuse.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—” An explosive force blasted through the room and he landed upside down in the corner, underneath an overturned chaise lounge chair. As Grayce rose from the bed, crimson waves of heat danced and swayed across her skin.

God she was beautiful.

“Tie me to what? This bed? Is that what you want? Me tied? At your mercy?” With hands fisted at her sides, her murderous glare warned off any sudden moves.

“God no.” Zander righted the chair, rose to his feet and backed himself to the wall. “That’s not what I meant. I would never want that.”

“I’ve been a kept woman.” She prowled closer.

Merely an arm’s reach away, her heat buzzed in his ears. He didn’t move.

A tempest brewed in her eyes. “I’ve been at the mercy of a sadistic fuck. It won’t happen again. I’m here by my choice. Get that through your thick skull. I’ll leave by my choice, not yours. If I want to go after him...” He cringed as she stabbed his chest with her finger. Not because it hurt, but because he’d hurt her. “My choice. Don’t ever fucking forget that.”

He resisted the temptation to scoop her into his arms. His erection rose to full attention as heated blood surged through his veins. The need to dominate, to protect and prove his worth as her man, diminished, replaced by the primal hunger to feel her heated flesh, silky and slick caressing the full girth of his sex. Hands down, she was the most tempting creature he’d ever laid eyes on with her petite, curvy frame and soul piercing hazel eyes. Every moment of their time together was a struggle, a constant battle to control his mating instincts.

But hell, when she was in her fiery form, he was downright insatiable. The need was painful. If it weren’t for the torment in her eyes, he’d have her pinned to the wall and be buried balls deep in her sweet flesh. It shamed him to feel that way, knowing how she’d been objectified. He’d never consider himself in the same league as the men who abused her, but he understood the attraction. When it came to describing Grayce, irresistible would be an understatement. Her pull was stronger than any drug. Her aura was a bright beacon, a siren’s call, the strongest magnetic force. Her spirit filled him with an all-consuming need to be near, and fuck if it wasn’t tearing him apart.

A hand around his hardened flesh nearly brought him to his knees.

“You’re a damned lucky bastard, you know that?” Stormy eyes peered at him through lowered lashes. Holy shit.

“Why’s that?” he asked with a hoarse whisper.

Grayce gave him a good squeeze. “If I wasn’t desperate to have you inside me, you’d be burning along with this room.” She lowered herself to her knees.

Zander looked down at his broken lover. Her beauty almost overshadowed her vulnerability. But it was there. Vulnerable. Scared. Out of place.

No. This was all wrong.

With a shaky grip, Grayce stroked him.

He grabbed her wrist and held her steady. “Stop.”

“Isn’t this what you want?” She stared at his sex. Her eyes void of any emotion. Why was she doing this?

“A frail woman at your beck and call?” She continued to stroke him, her lips dangerously close to the head of his erection. “A woman who’ll bow to your every whim, obey every command?”

The floor bounced as Zander’s knees hit the floor. “Never.” He cupped her face and forced her to look up. “I never want you on your knees. I never want you lowering yourself, degrading yourself for me. Holy Christ. Have I given you any reason to think I want that from you?”

A salacious smile spread across her face. “That’s what every man wants, right? A toy, a plaything. A beauty to put on display. Someone who won’t talk back. Someone who’ll laugh at every joke. Suck his cock. Stroke his ego—”

“Stop.” Zander scooped Grayce off the floor, pinned her against the wall and held her at eye level. “Listen to me. I am not like those men. I am not like him.” He searched her eyes for something, anything to tell him he was getting through.

“We are not all bad. I’m sorry for what you went through. I’m sorry for the shit in your life. I would take it away if I could. But I can’t. What I can do is protect you from any more shit. That’s why I don’t want you going after him. God damn, Grayce. I don’t want to control you. I want to shield you. It’s my fucking job. Let me do my fucking job.”

“Why?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she melted against him.

“Because I would die if anything happened to you. I would die. Simple as that.” He choked back his own emotion, couldn’t find any more words. The thought of losing her was too much to bear, let alone try to articulate.

“Don’t ever threaten to tie me,” she whispered.

Not a problem. Lesson learned.

A new light flickered in her eyes. “Kiss me.”

Also, not a problem. No need to ask twice.

“I promise, it won’t happen again.” He smiled and found her mouth soft and welcoming. She wrapped her legs around his waist and shifted to allow him entrance into her molten, silky folds. It was heaven.

He took his time filling her, and basked in the tightness and heat, the stretch of her flesh, the small spasms that gripped him when fully sheathed. Grayce cried out, her voice an anthem. He clamped an arm around her hips. With the other, he cupped her head, held her tight against his chest as she rode out her orgasm. With a final thrust, he found his own release and buried his face in her hair.

He’d known happiness as a child. A sense of family with his parents, then with Nikolas and Chelsea, but there had been something missing. He’d never been whole. With Grayce wrapped around him, he couldn’t imagine anything greater. She needed him. She accepted him physically and emotionally. They were one. Mind, spirit, body. He overflowed with complete happiness, pride—wholeness.

Life was good. Not just good. Fucking amazing.

* * * *

Early morning rays played peek-a-boo through the trees. Grayce and Chelsea, adorned in hiking shoes and heavy sweatshirts, trekked through the woods for an overdue session of good-ol’ girl time. Chelsea had begged Grayce to join her on her sunrise walk, explaining that Nikolas would be too exhausted to rise and shine for their daily ritual. He’d been working nonstop since Grayce’s arrival and she expected him to sleep through most of the morning.

Grayce had accepted the offer the prior evening and was already happy that she’d agreed. The brisk air alone was a better kick-in-the-ass, rev-your-engine, energy boost than even a whole pot of Chelsea’s thick black brew of caffeinated bliss. Or maybe it just felt that way, since she’d already indulged in three cups before putting on her shoes.

Chelsea rubbed the back of her neck. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?” Grayce stopped for a breather. “Are you getting sick?”

“No, it’s not that. Since yesterday, I’ve had this nagging tingle, like someone is in trouble. But that’s all I can feel. I can’t figure out who.” She shook her head and continued walking.

Grayce stayed a few paces behind. As she approached the tree line, an unpleasant aroma invaded her senses and brought the sting of tears to her eyes. Onion, urine and must.

“Shit. Do you smell that?” Grayce slapped a hand over her nose.

Chelsea nodded. As they continued, the stench grew stronger. Chelsea stopped dead and with eyes glazed, scanned the area around them.

Dread crept up Grayce’s back, followed by goose bumps. The foul odor was so strong she covered her mouth and nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“No. It can’t be,” Chelsea cried, and sprinted toward a thick of bushes. Grayce followed, hot on her heels. She only traveled a couple yards before tripping over a makeshift tent nestled between a rotten stump and a moss adorned boulder. The funk hung so heavy she battled to keep her coffee and scone from making a reappearance.

“What the fuck is that?” Grayce mumbled.

Two small bare feet, cut blistered and bloody, poked out from under a mud and mold stained blanket.

Chelsea fell to her knees. “I called Zander.”

In a gust of air, Zander stood by Grayce’s side. “What happened? Everyone all right?” He paused, looked down, then disappeared along with the child. Shit, would she ever get used to his super speed?

Grayce offered a hand to help Chelsea back to her feet. “Come on, let’s go.”

By the time they’d made it back to the house, Grayce was out of breath, not from fatigue, but worry. Chelsea led her down a set of stairs and several hallways, then through a swinging door into a hospital room.

Grayce found Zander’s eyes immediately. Her heart danced when he flashed his “I’m so fucking happy to see you” smile. On a sharp inhale, he turned his attention to the small boy lying on the table. The child looked like bones dipped in ash and dirt. The stench was enough to knock anyone to their knees, but Nikolas, seemingly oblivious to the fact, wasted no time checking vitals and cutting clothing from his body.