Chapter 16 #2
My pity party ended now. I had my sister. I was away from Halliwell. Thanks to these people, my lot was the best I could hope for. No more wallowing allowed.
I took a shower to get the rest of the tear gunk rinsed out of my face and dressed for bed.
I wrapped a fleecy robe around myself and settled into the big, soft couch that faced the window, leaving the light off.
I stared out into dark, letting my brain sift and sort the events of the past few days.
Trying to see it through different lenses.
None of them yielded great insights. None of the viewpoints looked good for Reggie.
If Halliwell could hurt me through her, he would. He had us stalemated.
No. I had to face reality. Halliwell had me stalemated. I could not count on these people to back me up, in spite of their friendliness and their warm welcome.
I was so anxious for Rose to get us more info about the medicines Kat had retrieved from the fake clinic. What it was, if it worked, if more could be made. If I had a working solution for Reggie’s problem, I’d fear absolutely nothing. I’d spit in Halliwell’s eye without a care.
A knock sounded on the door, making me start. I stared at it for a moment.
“Yes?” I called.
“It’s me.” It was Shane’s voice.
Oh, God. A new tangle of conflicting emotions to jerk me around and tear me apart. Fear and hope, anger at myself for being so damned vulnerable.
“It’s late, Shane.” I kept my voice crisp. “Get some sleep. See you tomorrow.”
“Can I talk to you? Please?”
I let out a sigh. No way could I resist that deep, scratchy voice. “Just for a minute,” I warned. “I’m very tired.”
He opened the door and stood staring into the dark room, trying to find me in it. His tall, lean body was silhouetted in the light from the corridor.
“Sitting in the dark?” he asked.
“Seemed appropriate for my mood.”
He came in, shut the door, and flicked the lock shut. Hmm. That was bold, but I didn’t feel articulate enough to call him on it. This was hard enough as it was.
He stood there, letting his eyes adjust. I was grateful for the darkness. The less he saw of my face, the better.
He moved toward me like a shadow and sat on the far end of the couch.
“Holly loves having your sister here,” he said, like an offering.
“I’m so glad for them both,” I said. “It was the best possible thing that could have happened for Reggie. Besides a cure for her mystery illness, of course. Holly is a blessing for her, too, after being so lonely for so long in that hellish place.”
“Like you were for me,” he said. “In Halliwell’s dungeon.”
Anger kindled inside me. “No way, Shane,” I said, my voice vibrating with emotion. “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare. No way can you come in here and whisper sweet nothings at me after last night.”
“I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “I can’t tell you how much.”
“Sorry’s not good enough.” I kept my voice clipped. “Go back to your own room. Get some sleep. We’ll keep up the cordial strangers routine until we can get out of each other’s faces.”
“I love having you in my face. I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful.”
I pressed my hands over my shaking face. Goddamn him all to hell.
“Shane,” I said, through my teeth. “You’re killing me. I seem to remember you throwing me out of your bed. I seem to recall words like ‘get the fuck out of here.’ It didn’t feel good, and I’m not doing that to myself again. So get your ass up off that couch, and get out. Good night.”
“Last night was amazing. And then I had… a bad moment.”
“Bad moment?” I repeated slowly. “Really. Which made you feel justified in dismissing me, like some insignificant fuckbunny you were finished with?”
“It wasn’t like that,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how to explain it.
But if you were with someone you cared about, like Reggie, and the earth suddenly opened up and there was a pool of boiling lava at your feet, you’d try to get Reggie away from it as fast as you could, right? It felt… kind of like that.”
I tried to make out his features in the dark. “Ah. So you were protecting me? By being rude and horrible? Please, Shane. Don’t do me any more goddamn favors. If you want to fuck with my head, you’re going to have to up your game. I am no dummy.”
“I know you’re not. You’re brilliant. And I love that about you. It turns me on.”
I got up from the couch. “I can’t deal with this,” I said.
“It’s all compliments and kisses, but who knows when the earth will open up?
Is it just random for you, when the lava starts pumping?
Can you see it coming? Do you want me to lower my guard just so that you can fuck me again? Not in this lifetime, buddy.”
He reached for my hand, but I swayed back, evading him. “Red,” he said softly. “Please. You didn’t deserve that. It was awful. I got slammed, and I couldn’t handle the feelings. I couldn’t stand falling to pieces in front of you.”
My eyes were leaking again, to my dismay. Goddamn that man. “News flash, Shane. I can’t handle it, either. Get lost, so I can fall to pieces in peace.”
“No.” He leaned over and grabbed both my hands. He bent over to kiss them.
I didn’t know what kind of sneaky sex god sorcery he was doing on me, but the soft warmth of his lips on my knuckles made everything go soft and hot and shivery inside me.
Some dark, potent magic that effortlessly melted down my anger, my flinty resolve, my treacherous heart, and turned it all into desperate longing.
Like there was a direct line from his soft, hot, pleading kisses against my knuckles, right to my heart.
He slid off the couch and kneeled in front of me, redoubling those hand kisses.
The gesture was so seductive. It promised infinite patience.
It implied that he’d be happy to just stay there all night, kissing the joints of my fingers.
Slowly, softly, every point of contact deliberate, thorough, worshipful.
Until I was betrayed by that hot ache in my heart. Practically screaming for it.
I was infatuated. It was so stupid. Such a bad time. But I just stood there, my face wet, my mouth shaking, letting him worship my hands. Helpless to stop him.
And he felt me softening, the slick, sneaky bastard. He maneuvered me expertly so I was over the couch again, and tumbled me backwards, then kneeled in front of me, parting my legs. Pushing the nightdress up over my knees.
I was naked beneath it. He let out low rumble of delighted approval as his hands stroked up my thighs, pressing them wider, petting my mound, tracing my slick pussy lips with teasing fingertips. Opening me.
“Can I taste you?” he said.
“Oh.” I laughed shakily under my breath. “So now the nice manners come out, huh? Beg me, dude.”
He vibrated with silent laughter. “I don’t mind begging,” he said.
“I beg for forgiveness. I beg for another chance. I beg for the privilege of making you come. I’m already on my knees.
” He cupped my ass, tugging it to the edge of the couch cushions.
“Let me lick you until you scream,” he murmured. “Pretty please.”
“No screaming,” I said primly. “My innocent little sister is right down the hall. Sleeping right next to your innocent little daughter.”
“It’s on you not to scream, Red.” There was dark laughter in his deep, scratchy voice. “Good luck with that. I’m not holding back.”
And he went at me. Tenderly, hungrily, the same worshipful kisses against my pussy lips that he’d done to my hands, but more, deeper, wilder.
Opening me with slow, teasing swipes of his tongue.
His plunging, caressing fingers were made slick with my juice.
Licking and swirling, tongue lashing, fingers delving.
Suckling on my clit oh, so delicately. Working me into a helpless froth of pure, shaking need.
I bucked against his face, clutching at his hair, whimpering and gasping as the first orgasm wrenched through me. Obliterating me.
He waited afterward, kissing my thigh, petting my mound as if it were a purring kitten. As soon as I was close to normal consciousness again, he started again.
His instincts were spot on. He knew just when to push and when to wait, and when to speed up and go for it, insisting.
I abandoned all control and let myself be carried away on that voluptuous ride.
The pleasure built and crested, again and again, until I was limp and soft, thighs slick, every cell of my body humming with pleasure.
He finally leaned back, got to his feet, and pulled me up, pushing the robe off my shoulders, letting it tumble onto the couch.
He pulled the nightgown off me, tossing it away.
I couldn’t see his eyes, in the dimness, but he knew he could have anything he wanted of me in this condition.
I was unraveled, undone. Lost to all reason.
He took my hand, wrapping my fingers around his thick erection. I stroked it appreciatively, remembering how it felt inside me. Aching to have him there again.
“What do you want from me, Shane?” I couldn’t control my shaky tone. I didn’t want to sound this vulnerable, but it wasn’t up to me.
He pulled me up onto my feet and turned me around, pushing me toward the couch. “This.”
I tumbled against the couch, my knees on the cushions, face pressed against the back positioned me right how he wanted me, thighs wide, ass out.
But his hands slid up my inner thighs and boldly stroked my pussy again.
I pushed myself against him as I felt his thick cockhead prodding me, sliding into the slick, sensitive opening of my pussy, pressing forward against the resistance, pulsing against it, teasing, taunting.
Staying there. Stroking the opening, swiveling, caressing my pussy lips. Making me wild for him to thrust his cock into me.
“Goddamn it, what are you waiting for?” I demanded.
“To be sure it’s what you want,” he murmured.
“You’re the one who was supposed to beg,” I said tartly. “Not me.”