I Thought It Was You (2 page)

But normal circumstances for him had shattered when he'd been told he was supposed to report for
duty
here, of all the fucking places.

As her hands fell away, he saw the pain glimmer in her blue eyes and he could have kicked himself.

Backing away, Ren sighed, skimmed a hand over his naked scalp. “Damn it, Elle…”

“Fine. You don't want me around you,” she said, swallowing. Her voice shook. “I get the point. Shit, Ren. What the hell happened? We used to be friends.”

From the corner of his eye, Ren saw Michael close his eyes.

“Friends.” A harsh laugh escaped him. “
Fuck me
… Friends. I'm sorry, Cinderella, but I didn't spend the past century chasing you around and getting inside your skirts as often as possible because I wanted to be your
friend
. I wanted more than that—I always wanted more, and now I'll never have it. I show up here, you throw yourself at me in a bleeding towel—a towel, for pity's sake, Elle. Then I'm three seconds away from having a meltdown and thank you for helping, yes. But damn it, you can't keep touching me, because it's tearing my damn heart out!”

He was shouting by the time he was done, shouting…and shaking.

And although the pain in his heart was now clawing and free, he realized that darkness that had been edging through him had disappeared.

Pain…or insanity. What a lovely choice to make.

He turned away and leaned against the door, resting his brow against the beveled glass and staring out into the lessening night.

“Ren—”

“Stop,” he said, forcing the word out through his teeth. “Just stop. I don't want to hear apologies or platitudes.”

Closing his eyes, he took a deep, slow breath. He needed out of here. Yes, he damned well knew Will wanted him here for some specific reason—
other
than torturing him.

Absently, he touched the leather cuff at his wrist, rubbed the silver medallion set in the center.

Most of them wore theirs on a chain around their neck, but Ren couldn't stand the feel of anything around his neck—hated it.

Pressing his fingers against the medallion, he focused.
Why, Will? Why are you doing this to me?

But there wasn't an answer, and behind him there was silence.

For the longest time, there was silence.

Then he heard the softest whisper of sound.

Her hands again, resting on his shoulders. Blowing out a breath, he braced his shoulders and turned. He had to get the fuck out of here, before he snapped.

Oh, shit
.

“Elle, what in the hell are you doing?” he muttered.

Michael stood behind her with his arms wrapped her around her waist.

Her naked waist.

The nightshirt she'd had on lay in a crumpled pile on the floor and she was staring at him.

As their gazes locked, Elle moved to meet him, her hands coming up to cup his face. He caught her wrists. “I'm not about to become a pity fuck, princess,” he said, his voice ragged.

Even if he did still want her like mad.

“Ren.” She leaned and pressed her mouth to his chin. “Not even a blind woman could look at you and think
pity fuck
.”

Her naked breasts pressed against his chest and he could have whimpered, could have begged. Almost did.

But instead, he eased away, forced a few more inches between them. But the door behind him wouldn't let him back away any more.

“Then what the hell is this? We had the one night, a fantasy, remember? One night,” he said, the words coming faster and faster now. What the hell… “If this happens, then it's not one night. It's two. Do the math, poppet. One, two.”

Elle smiled. “I'm well aware of the math. The one night was a fantasy…for me. This…is for both of us. And instead of a fantasy, it's a goodbye.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, but Ren averted his head and since the fucking door was still in the way—what was with that anyway—he slipped off to the side. Shooting Michael a dark look, he snarled, “Help me out here. You don't want this. Talk some sense into her.”

“I want her happy. I want her to have what she needs,” Michael said. He shrugged. “And for some reason, she needs this.”

Then he gave Ren a sharp-edged smile and added, “Come on,
Thomas
. We can give you some closure.”

“Kiss ass.” Ren sneered at Michael. He glanced at Elle and then wished he hadn't. She still stood there, all tumbled golden hair and pale, pale skin, curves and perfect, sweet curves. One pink nipple played peek-a-boo with her hair and he groaned, covered his eyes with his hands.

Blast it. Even the insanity might be preferable to this.

Through the leather band on his wrist, he felt a scalding hot heat and he swore. It faded as quick as it had come, and he lowered his hands, stared at the band.

And abruptly, he realized just what he had been thinking. Realized just where he had been the past few months. Too close. Too close to that darkness that had overwhelmed him in the past.

The darkness that had pulled at him was
not
better than the pain of heartbreak. The pain of loneliness. The darkness had been edging back in on him for some time, a darkness relieved by Elle's presence.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons why her leaving had hit him so hard. That and the fact even though he had
known
she hadn't really loved him, part of him had still hoped.

Another lesson.
Fuck
. In the end, this hadn't been anything but another lesson. Will was such a bastard.

Swallowing, he looked up, stared at Elle, into her eyes, although it took a monumental effort not to stare…everywhere.

“We're not doing this,” he said, his voice harsh. “I want you like hell, but no…I don't need this to…whatever…”

He could, and would, get his fucked-up head back on straight without some erotic version of
kiss and make it better
.

But if he thought Elle was going to let it go so easily—well, Disney never really did get that particular fairy tale right.

The Cinderella fairy tales were so far from the real Elle, it was almost pathetic.

She smiled at him, but the curve of her lips was a sad, bittersweet one. “And what if I need it as well, Ren? What then?

“We both have demons, Ren. You know that? Neither of us have shared all of ours very well.” She closed her eyes and reached up, touched the medallion that hung between her breasts.

The round silver disk was exactly like the one Ren wore around his wrist, like the one Michael wore around his neck.

Their
mark. The mark of the Grimm.

“I never
told
you, but you know. You were there when the nightmares came, more than once. You know what happened to me.”

A harsh sigh, too close to a sob, escaped her. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him.

“You know, close enough, what happened to me. You know what they did, what they took…how close they came to destroying
me.
So what if
I
need this? What if I need to find that part of me again?”

Ren swore. Shifted his focus to Michael.
Fuck
.

The look in the other man's gaze was unchanged.

“Are you just going to stand there?” he demanded.
Help me out, damn it
.

“I
have
what I need, so if she needs this, especially if she needs it to heal, why can't I let her have it?” Michael came to stand behind her and embraced her. There was a grim, dark look in his green eyes. “You held her through most of the nightmares. You were there as she healed. But I don't doubt that she still feels like something is missing…like some part of
her
is missing. If we can let her find that again, then I'm willing to do whatever the hell it takes.” Then his mouth twisted in a grimace and tightened his arms around Elle. “Well, to a point… I won't let any other man touch my woman. And after this, it's done.” He cupped Elle's chin, dipped his head and nipped her lower lip. “I hope we're clear on that, darling girl. After this, if you haven't found whatever you need to find, I'll buy you a puppy or something.”

Elle grinned. And then she looked at Ren.

And he knew he was lost.

Chapter Four

“Have you ever been able to say
no
to her, mate?” Ren muttered as Elle backed him into the living room.

Michael laughed. “Have you?”

Perhaps if she hadn't chosen that particular moment to reach for the button of his jeans, her fingers brushing against his belly, he might have been able to think.

But then again, maybe not. Her lips brushed against his chest and he groaned. Reaching up, he closed his hands around her waist, wondering just what new form of insanity this was.

Her tongue brushed across his nipple. He felt something against the back of his legs—Elle pushed him back. He ended up sprawled on his back on a plush, overstuffed couch, and she didn't waste even a second before she knelt beside him and went to work on his jeans.

Catching her hands, he went to sit up. “What's the hurry, poppet?” he murmured.

She shot him a look, and he caught a hint of the turbulence in those dark, dark blue eyes. It hit him square in the heart.
Fuck.

“Princess…” Catching her face, he rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “We don't need to do this.”

 

“Yes, we do,” she said, her voice shaking. “
I
do.”

Michael came up behind her and knelt down. “Then maybe you should stop treating it like a mission.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “And relax.”

Ren nuzzled her mouth and the ache in his heart somehow managed to both ease and tighten. Perhaps she
did
need this. Perhaps she did need him, one last time. “Let me kiss you, princess. I didn't think I'd get that again.”

A sigh hitched out of her and her mouth opened under his.

He took his time with it, teasing her, tasting her, treating her like it was the first time, even though it was the last. “I remember the first time I saw you,” he whispered against her mouth. “Do you? Will brought you to that soddin' hell hole in Dublin where he had Perci and Luc working with me.”

As he spoke, he kissed his way down her chin, along her neck. “You wore white, all white. You truly did look like an angel.”

“And you looked like a complete rake.” Her breath shuddered out of her as he cupped her breasts and plumped them together.

Michael tugged on her hair. “Well, neither of you were right. He's a no-good bastard and you're a witch. Give me your mouth, darling girl. I'm feeling left out.”

Elle laughed, a shaking, erratic sound.

Ren eased her weight back against Michael as she rested her head on his shoulder and kissed him. Going to his knees in front of her, Ren caught one pink nipple in his mouth. She arched, and faintly, he caught the muffled sound of her cry.

Her body was hot, burning. Stroking her, he cupped her sex in his hand, slid his finger over the slick, swollen crease. “Oh, princess…you're so wet,” he muttered.

When he pushed inside, she clenched around him and he pulled his mouth away, pressed his face against her neck and prayed for strength…she was so slick, swollen, silky wet.

She rocked against his hand, her inner muscles gripping him. He lifted his eyes and stared at her, watched her profile as she kissed Michael. Lovely…she was so fucking lovely.

He braced himself for that painful, onslaught of jealousy and it came…but the punch wasn't quite so strong.

And when she pulled her mouth away, rested her head on Michael's shoulder and stared at him, Ren had only the smallest urge to bloody the other man's perfect face.

Then she smiled and reached up, touching Michael's cheek. “I love you.”

“Darling girl…” Michael whispered.

A blush crept up her cheeks, staining them a soft pink as she looked at Ren. He was half-prepared for her to say she'd changed her mind. Almost wished for it. But then she rocked forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzled him. “Ren…?”

Stroking a hand down her long, graceful back, he buried a hand in her hair. “My lady?” he teased.

“Get back up on the couch.”

He chuckled and shifted, moved up so that he could lie across the foot of it. It was one of those chaise-styled deals, wide and thick, but he had to shift length-ways as he saw what Elle had in mind. She shimmied up and straddled his hips, grinning down at him, her long, golden hair hanging almost to her hips. He tangled his hands in it and muttered, “I love your hair.”

Smiling down at him, she sat back on his hips and gathered it up in her hands, piling it up on her head. “Do you?”

“Fuck, yes.” Then he slid his eyes over the rest of her, admiring the view, taking it in, storing in the depths of his memory. He cupped her hips and shuddered as she rocked against him, the slick folds of her sex cuddling against his cock.

Fuck
.

She shifted and reached down, grasping him in her hand. Ren tensed and glanced behind her, looked for Michael. He'd slipped out of the room.

Bloody hell, has he gone looking for something to take my head off with
?

But the rest of his mind was incapable of thought and it only got worse as Elle lifted up, tucked the head of his cock against her entrance. And started to sink down…and down…

Slamming his head back against the couch, Ren gritted his teeth and swore. She smiled down at him and lifted back up halfway, then started the slow, teasing possession all over again.

He was sweating by the time she'd taken all of him, sweating and swearing and all but ready to beg for mercy.

And that was when he realized Michael had returned.

He was kneeling on the couch behind Elle, his black hair falling to mix with her golden locks as he dipped his head and rubbed his cheek against hers. “Bend over, darling girl.”