Envy (Fallen Angels 3) - Page 57

"Guess so." Her eyes went up and down his body. "And I can't wait."

Frankly, the shit made Jim shrivel, but he blocked that from her. And he wasn't taking for granted that he had total control over the demon. Even infatuated, she was a deadly piece of work, and he couldn't be sure this weapon of his was going to last forever.

For however long he could, though, and at whatever cost to himself it required, he was going to try to keep this connection cultivated.

"Well, I think it's time to bring this round to a close, Jim." Devina did another pirouette. "I have to go back to work, but I'll be seeing you soon."

"If Veck's in this house, why do you need to be anywhere else."

"Like I said, I'm a busy girl, as you'll find out." She blew him a kiss. "Bye for now. And Adrian, call me if you need a shoulder to cry on."

On that note, she was off into the night, fogging up, fogging out.

Shit. If she wasn't here with Veck, he had to assume the fight was somewhere else.

"Fuck," he muttered, ready to hit something.

"No," Adrian said. "We stay here. We stay with Veck."

Jim looked over. Old Adrian? Would have been the one seething to cut loose and follow her. New Adrian? The icy motherfucker was tight as hell, his cold, dispassionate eyes shifting over to Jim's.

"She's not going to crack us," Ad announced. "We're going to stay focused and right here. Smoke and mirrors ain't going to move me."

Now, that's what I'm talking about, Jim thought, with respect.

At that moment, the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house broke through the night. Flashing out to the street with Adrian, Jim unsheathed his dagger - except then he saw the little Domino's sign glowing on the sedan's roof.

Oh, maaaaaaan. Pizza ... and sex. Maybe Devina had a point.

Hard not to be envious.

The deliveryman got out of his beater and hoofed it up the walkway. Veck answered the door, paid cash, disappeared back inside. Car drove off.

In the moments that followed, Jim itched to go after Devina; he could sense her presence elsewhere in the city ... but maybe that was what she wanted?

You could never trust her.

New Adrian was right: They stayed here and hung tough.

"Thanks, man," Jim said without looking away from the closed and locked front door of the house.

"No problem," was the terse answer.

Chapter 33

Veck didn't track what the pizza tasted like. For all he knew, the thing could have been topped with rubber tires and chunks of plaster.

He couldn't stop thinking of Reilly up on that bathroom counter, her legs spread, her hand brushing against her core.

Sitting next to her at the kitchen table, he was pretty sure she was thinking along similar lines, because there was a whole lot of efficiency in the way she ate. Nothing messy or unladylike - just neat and quick.

He was the same. Except less neat.

When they'd polished off everything but the last slice, he stretched back in his chair and looked to the ceiling.

"So where's your bathtub?" he asked, shooting for casual.

Cue that side smile of hers. The one that made him want to kiss her all over. "I'll show you. Are you going to finish that piece?"

"No." Hell, if it hadn't been for her empty stomach grumbling, he never would have slowed down longer than it took to send off the delivery guy. But he'd wanted to make sure she ate. "You?"

"I'm full."

And I'm ready to fill you up, he thought.

Getting to his feet, he held out his hand to her. "Lead the way."

She did just that, taking him up the stairs and into a room that was nothing like the barren box he slept in. Her private space had nice curtains made to fit the three windows, a bed with lots of pillows, and a duvet that looked thick enough to serve as a trampoline.

Perfect place to make love.

"The bathroom's through there," she murmured, pointing across the way.

He walked over, stepped into the darkness, and patted the wall for the switch. When he hit the thing, he nearly dropped to his knees with a prayer of thanks.

Claw-footed. Deep as a pond. Wide as that bed out there.

And what did you know, the faucet had enough pressure to power a fire hose.

As the hot water rushed out and the level began to rise, he pivoted around to call for -

"Holy ... f**k ..." he breathed.

Reilly had lost her clothes and was standing naked in the doorway.

Way to short a man's brain out: All he saw was beautiful skin, and perfect br**sts, and the swell of those hips he was dying to lock onto.

As he tried to form a response that didn't involve more curses, or worse, actual drooling, she pulled the tie out of her hair and shook the gloriously red lengths free ... which made those br**sts of hers sway ever so slightly.

"Come here," he said in a rough voice.

She approached him with her head up and her eyes down ... on the hard c**k that was killing him to get to her.

Stepping into his body, Reilly eased up to nip on his earlobe. "Is the water warm enough yet?"

"You get in there" - he gripped her pelvic bones and squeezed - "and it's going to boil."

He kissed her, bending down and putting their mouths together. His clothes lasted another ... oh, minute and a half.

And then, like the gentleman he wasn't feeling even close to, but was damn well determined to be, he picked her up and carried her into the tub with care, settling them so they faced each other. The steam rising up between their bodies smelled like that scent he associated with her, suggesting she did this frequently, maybe with some kind of bath mix thing.

More kissing and hands going everywhere through the currents of warm water. Except as soon as she found his erection, he jacked up and splashed a few hundred gallons onto the floor.

"Oh, shit ... sorry - "

She came with him, pushing him back against the curved wall of the tub. "I'm not worried about the water."

As her hand locked on his c**k and started stroking, he muttered through gritted teeth, "I'm not going to last if you keep that up."

"I don't want you to."

Well, good. Because the sight of her slick, buoyant br**sts and that erotic look in her eyes was enough to make him come on their own. Add the friction? He was waaaay past his threshold.

His hips found a rhythm to counter her own and he let his head go loose until it fell back against the tub's curled edge. Which gave him a hell of a vantage point. The level of the water was recovering from the spill, and the rising, waving action lapped over her hard pink ni**les and disappeared, only to lap back, and recede again... .

Leaving her glossy. So glossy. As if he'd been licking at her himself.

That was ultimately what kicked him off the ledge. His molars locked and he let out a loud groan as his arousal jerked and bucked against her palm, his body torquing hard.

In response, her smile was precious, the kind you put into your mental backpack and carried with you forever.

And for some reason ... even though it was a mood killer ... all he could think about was her sitting in that chair downstairs, no doubt armed, waiting for someone to come and get her.

They were safe here together tonight, but that was not going to last. Sooner or later, he would have to go home, and she was going to be alone again. Christ, both of them getting stalked? It was time to take control of this situation and keep this incredible woman and her heartbreaking smile safe.

Next time that Heron character showed up, he was going to take the bastard into custody. Even if it killed them both.

"Are you all right?" she asked, clearly sensing the shift in him.

"Oh, yeah. Very all right."

He dragged his head off the lip of the tub and stretched his leg out, turning the faucet off with his foot. Then he pulled her on top of him, unwilling to waste this opportunity to enjoy her.

"I liked that a lot," he said against her mouth. "But I have a feeling you're going to be even better."

They stayed long enough for the water to take an edge from the chill, kissing, touching. Not that he needed the recovery time. He'd been ready to go right after the orgasm she gave him.

He wanted her that much.

"Take me to your bed?" he said.

When she nodded, he offered her a steadying hand as she stood up and delicately stepped over the tub's high walls onto the tile.

"Watch it," he warned. "It's got to be wet."

"It is." She looked down. "I'll get some towels."

Tags: J.R. Ward Fallen Angels Fantasy
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