Chapter 18 - Percy
There is not enough time for me to touch Veronica in all the ways I want. Even if we both lived for the rest of eternity, I would die wishing I’d gotten to find a new way of loving her, making her body feel good, slotting ourselves together.
She rides me, our gasps and panting filling the living room. I forget about everything—the party going on a block away, the fact that I’m supposed to be security for it, our entire mess with the mating and blood-bond. It all leaves me, replaced with the feeling of her hips on mine, her tight walls surrounding me, and how it feels to be fully seated inside of her.
It’s sex years in the making. Earlier, on the bathroom counter, I didn’t get to fully enjoy being inside her. I was too busy worrying about if she was okay. It was over too fast—something I haven’t done since high school.
But now, I can take my time with her. I keep my hands on her back, watching the emotions flit across her face as she grinds her hips how she wants against me. Every sensation between us, every nerve ending, is fully lit, sparking, nearly overwhelming.
Her breasts are bathed in the moonlight, her long neck exposed as she tips her head back, her hands braced behind her as she slides onto me, again and again, each time with more urgency. When she leans forward, her teeth sinking into my shoulder, her hips moving faster and faster, I know she’s about to come. I let her ride it out, and then, when she’s boneless on top of me, I get to my feet, staying inside her the whole time.
I carry her to my bedroom, pushing open the door and bringing her inside. She blinks slowly at me as I lay her down on the bed, carefully pulling off the dress, then her black lace panties. When her body is bare in front of me, her legs long and smooth in the light, I take a moment to memorize it, sure I’ll never see it again.
“You really wanted to play the part of vampire tonight, huh,” I say, coming back to myself when I drop her panties on the floor. Her laugh spurs me on, and after stripping down myself, I drop to my knees in front of her.
That clear, twinkling laugh instantly turns to a moan, and she drops her head into the pillow, her hand burying itself in my hair.
“ Percy ,” she says, the word coming out breathy and high, halfway to an exclamation. I touch her how I know she likes, then, when it feels like she’s close, I pull away, working my way up her body.
“You are such an asshole,” she breathes, sounding frustrated and turned on.
“Why?” I ask, kissing her stomach and looking up at her. I watch as she props herself up on her elbows to look at me. “You used to love edging.”
She laughs again, and I crawl all the way up her body, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, working over her breasts. I touch every inch of her with my tongue and teeth until she’s practically begging me to come inside her again.
I give in, grabbing her hips and flipping her over, cock twitching when she groans into the pillow, her face buried in the fabric. My knees sink into the mattress, but I just grab her hips, guiding her back into me, growling at the first delicious sink inside her. I could do this all day, touching her, wanting her, getting my dick inside her.
This time, there’s no starting slow. I push her knees out, yanking her ass up and toward me so I can get my cock at the exact angle I want. She cries out when I slant deep inside her, the tip of my cock pushing against her G-spot.
“Don’t stop,” she begs, her hand sliding up to touch herself, and the sight of it turns me on even more, if it’s possible. I oblige her by pounding into her even harder, until the bed frame slams against the wall. I don’t care—I have no neighbors except the baker downstairs, and she should be gone by now.
Veronica and I can be as loud as we want.
When she moans, long and deep, into the pillow, her body going limp, I finally allow myself to ride that wave to the top, pumping into her two, three more times before my entire body shakes and I come inside her, the satisfaction of the moment more than I could have ever predicted.
A moment later, after the waves have fully passed, I climb out of the bed and head to the bathroom, grabbing a couple of tissues and a glass of water before I come back. I gave the tissues to Veronica, and she wiped herself up, handing them back to me before accepting the glass of water. When I return to the room, she’s holding the empty glass out, and I take it, fill it, and come back.
I get into the bed with her, cuddling in close, burying my nose in the nape of her neck and breathing deeply. Under the fabricated, chemical scent that’s supposed to make her smell like a shifter is a completely Veronica smell, that heavy dose of cinnamon and sweetness that makes me want to take a bite.
As I’m drifting off to sleep, holding her body close to mine, I can’t help but replay her voice in my head. For her, this is scratching an itch, alleviating those feelings. For me, these are my last chances to be with the only woman I’ll ever love before she takes off again, leaving me in Rosecreek, alone.
***
I wake up from a deep sleep when I hear a knock on the apartment door. When I glance at my phone, I see it’s the middle of the night. Opening the doorbell camera app on my phone, I’m able to see who it is at the door.
Veronica stiffens next to me, and I realize she can see it, too.
“Shit,” I say, setting the phone down as indescribable rage and protectiveness floor through my body. I want to kill that guy for bothering her, and making her feel unsafe. For having the absolute fucking gall to come to my front door. “I’m going to—”
“No,” she says, swinging her legs out of the bed. She grabs my shirt from the floor and throws it on over her head, stalking out of the room as I get out of the bed, too, quickly yanking on my pants and following her out of the room as she says, “I’m handling this, once and for all.”
I think of how upset she had been with me when I stepped in last time, and I decide to let her handle it, though I’m prepared to step in at a moment’s notice. I hover right behind her as she opens the door a crack, peering outside angrily.
“I told you—” she starts, before the guy flashes a badge I know I’ve seen before.
“Agent Diaz,” he says, his voice low, authoritative. “We got off on the wrong foot—”
“Yeah, right ,” Veronica laughs, “like I’m going to fall for that shit. My boyfriend is here, and he’s going to kick your ass when I’m done with it.”
My chest lights up with joy when she calls me her boyfriend, even though I know she only said it to scare this guy off. Normally, I would agree with her assumption that the badge is just a ploy to get him to back off, but I’ve seen that badge before.
“ Wait ,” I say, ignoring her sound of indignation when I push past her and take the badge from him. I pull my phone out, turn on the flashlight, and scan it.
It’s for a new agency, the one developed by paranormals to replace the government agency. Aris told us about it in a meeting nearly a month ago. I look up at the guy standing outside the door, my mind racing.
What are the chances he would know what it looked like, and make a fake one.
“I just want to talk,” he says, his voice muffled through the nearly-shut door. “Just hear me out, then I’ll leave. I swear.”
“How did you find my apartment?” I ask, eyes narrowing on his form through the door.
“Was in the database,” he says, and then quieter, “and also, surveillance.”
I glance back at Veronica. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, her fingers playing with the ends of her hair. This clearly stresses her out, but I can’t deny that I’m curious to see what he says.
“Let him in,” she says, “after I get dressed.”
A moment later, Veronica and I are fully dressed. I’m sitting in the living room with him while Veronica brews a pot of coffee in the kitchen.
“When did you join that agency?”
“Two years ago, after I realized the other one was corrupt.”
“Took you that long to notice?”
“I wanted things to be straight.”
“Who was your commander?”
“Putsky.”
Faintly, I remember the name of a different task force. The vampire task force. There were very few vamps working at the agency, on account of there being very few vamps who wanted peace among paranormals and humans, but many of the ones who were there were half-breeds.
“What are you, then?”
“That’s what I’d like to explain,” he says, his eyes darting up as Veronica walks into the room, holding a tray with three cups of coffee. After she sets it down, and we each take ours, he reaches out, mumbling a thank you before taking a sip.
“Not gonna lie,” he says, smiling after his first drink. “I kind of thought this was going to be poisoned.”
“Just spit it out,” Veronica says, her voice lethal. “Don’t waste any more of my fucking time.”
This man—Agent Diaz—lets out a long sigh, then looks up at the ceiling for a moment before nodding and returning his gaze to Veronica.
“I owe you an apology,” he says, finally.
“That’s all, you think?” she snaps.
“Listen,” he says, after a moment, tapping the side of his coffee cup. “I have something to tell you, and I just want you to hear me out. And if, for some reason, you still want nothing to do with me after that, I will leave right now, and I will keep a hundred miles between us at all times. Does that sound fair?”
“I just don’t think there’s a single reason in the world why I should need to hear anything you have to say,” Veronica says, her hands gripping her mug so tightly I worry, for a second, that she might shatter it.
“Because,” Agent Diaz says, his eyes flitting to me momentarily before settling back on her. “I can tell you why you’re immune to the vampire venom.”