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What further surprised her was that soon she saw two pairs of feet, one in brown leather loafers and the other, black stilettos.
She looked up but just shook her head.
“Your boyfriend here insists I apologize. Fine, I apologize, but what the f**k was that about?”
Fiona rose up. She chuckled but still her face grew warm. “I think you keep forgetting that I’ve had three parts to my life. The first part was in a very conservative Boston in the late 1800s. The second was in captivity where there were only women around, and Rith, but he doesn’t count.
“Now I’m here. It’s modern times on both Mortal and Second Earths, and things are … wonderful in many ways. But how did you think I could tolerate … that?”
“Chérie, what did she do?”
Endelle held her hands up. “Nothing. We took a trip to Militia HQ.”
At that, Fiona tilted her head and raised her brows. “Tell him the rest, Endelle. You owe me that much because at some point he’s going to find out and I don’t want him to think, on any level, that this was my idea.”
Endelle backed up. She shrugged. She didn’t exactly meet Jean-Pierre’s gaze. “We might have looked in on the men’s shower room at the workout center.” She pursed her lips and pretended to examine her nails.
“You did what?”
Fiona didn’t quite understand what happened during the next few seconds. The air seemed to tighten all around her, Endelle flew back about five feet and landed on her ass, then Fiona had 260 pounds of pure, lean, hardened vampire pressed the length of her and smashed into the wall.
“Jean-Pierre, stop.” She felt the strange snake-like things begin to swirl in her stomach. “Stop.”
“You are not to look at other men, not like that, not without clothes on. I will not have it.”
She tried to push at him, but he was a brick wall. The writhing thing in her stomach rose. She couldn’t bear to be held down like this.
In the distance, she heard Endelle say, “Well, then. I’ll leave you two kids to it.”
She wanted to call her back to ask for her help, but Jean-Pierre’s body and something she could only feel as his energy flowed over her and around her, poking at her skin as though seeking entrance. She couldn’t breathe.
“You are for me, Fiona. No others.” His voice was deeper than she had heard it before, ever.
The writhing, crawling beast climbed up her chest and into her throat. She felt strangled from within.
Then she felt him against her mind. He pushed against her shields. He pushed hard. She looked into his eyes, saw the strange hard glitter. She understood his dilemma, the extreme protective urges, the need for dominance and possession. He needed to mark his territory. She doubted he was fully aware of what he was doing.
Let me in.
Three simple words. Let him in. He wanted in. He wanted inside her mind, to take her mind, to dominate her mind. She had done nothing wrong and Endelle’s thoughtless little jaunt to MWHQ had cost her this, a major confrontation between herself and her vampire lover, who wasn’t exactly in his right mind.
She held her shields in place so he began to push, slamming against them hard, his body still a wall against her.
Funny … all the writhing fears had subsided.
Why?
Then she understood something else. She liked what he was doing and even more than that, she trusted him even in this ridiculous caveman posturing. He ground his hips against her and he was, oh, God, so aroused.
His scent surrounded her but instead of the usual coffee dominating, that which was male was in the fore, very male. A wind possessed her mind, spinning around and around, and still slamming against her shields.
When he powered against her shields one more time, she dropped them flat.
He bored into her, a deep overwhelming rush into her mind, swelling over her thoughts, her memories, flowing into every narrow recess, swallowing her up.
And still she wasn’t afraid.
She met his mind straight-on and let him possess her.
She slid her arms up around his neck, leaned the few inches that separated his mouth from hers, and kissed him.
He plunged his tongue inside, not a surprise. He drove and drove and drove, making his point. His hips flexed and he pushed that hard, thick, rope-like length against her.
A moment later, without warning, she felt movement, a flying sensation, and complete darkness. A glide through nether-space began.
She landed in a very damp space, so at odds with the desert or even Sedona.
She drew away slightly to look around, but didn’t get far since he pulled her against him. Where are we? she sent since she couldn’t exactly speak.
What returned within her mind was a cross between a grunt and a growl. He moved back from her about a quarter of an inch and over her mouth said, “My house. A grotto. By the creek.”
He kissed her and the storm in her mind kept moving around, searching, hunting.
He found the memories, the quick preternatural voyeuristic vision that Endelle had forced on her, of men working out, of men changing in a locker room and finally men naked in showers.
He threw back his head and roared.
She didn’t know what to do with this beast that had taken her into his grotto. She saw that he was out of control. She felt his desire to do harm to the men she had seen. She felt that he was ready to fly once more through nether-space, to go straight to that locker room and that shower, but like hell was she going to let him do harm to a bunch of men who had done nothing wrong.
She summoned her increased physical power, broke away from the restraints that were his arms, but instead of stepping away from him, she planted both hands on his face. “Look at me,” she cried.
He seemed startled and he froze. She could feel the vibration of the fold that almost happened but didn’t.
He stared at her unseeing, breathing hard. He had to be in there somewhere. “Fuck me, Jean-Pierre. Right here, right now. Take me, as hard as you want, in whatever position you want.”
His nostrils flared. His lips quivered and drew back from fangs that emerged.
She pushed her hair aside and bared her neck for him.
He struck hard and she winced. Shit, that hurt. But as soon as he began a series of heavy lusty draws, her body softened and sank into a deep pool of exquisite pleasure. He grunted over her neck. The word mine repeated through her brain.
In small stages, since he still had possession of her mind, she pushed him out of that horrible locker room and directed him to the memory of last night when she was sprawled across his abdomen, with his fingers buried inside of her. She let him relive the cries that she shouted into the cool night air.
