iAm’s bedroom door turned out to be wide-open, a lamp glowing in the far corner illuminating the tidy, empty space with its antiques and fine fabrics.
Trez’s was shut.
Selena knocked, and then put her ear to the panels. When there was no response, she knocked again.
Maybe he hadn’t come up here?
She knew he had dealings in the human world, but he’d seemed so exhausted as he’d left the clinic. It seemed only reasonable that—
“Yeah?”
Swallowing hard, she said, “It’s me.”
Long silence. So long that she wondered whether he’d cracked a window and dematerialized out of the room just to avoid her.
But eventually his voice came again: “Are you okay?”
“May I…?”
“Hold on.”
A minute later the door opened, and she had to step back. He was so big … and so very naked—although it wasn’t like he was showing anything. He’d put a robe on, the bare, dark skin of his chest revealed in the V between the lapels.
It was impossible not to imagine what the rest of him looked like under there.
“Are you all right?” he repeated.
For some reason, she got frustrated by his concern. Which was insane. He was being polite and solicitous … it just made her feel like all she was was this disease inside of her.
“I, ah…” She glanced around. “May we do this privately?”
In lieu of answering, he moved aside and indicated the way in with his arm. After she was over the threshold, she heard the door lock click into place.
“I want to apologize.” She stopped at the windows and turned around. “I’m sorry. My emotions are raw right now, and my candor got away from me.”
Trez crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the exit. His face was inscrutable, his dark eyes grave, his brows down.
As the silence stuck around, she cleared her throat. Shifted her weight back and forth. Filled the time looking at the messy bed. The black clothes draped over the chaise longue. The shoes that had been kicked off over by the closet. The towel hanging off the top of the open door into the marble bathroom.
“So…” She cleared her throat. “That is what I came here to say.”
Dearest Virgin Scribe, was this it between them?
“How long?” he asked roughly.
“I’m sorry?”
“How long do you have? Until the next … whatever it is. When was the last one?”
Two weeks … or actually thirteen days. “A month ago. Maybe longer.”
His shoulders eased up. “I meant to ask that before.”
Again he went quiet.
“Trez, I really am sorry—”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re just where you’re at. I’m not offended, and I’m not going to try to change your mind about how you feel.”
“You seem offended.”
“I’m not.”
“Trez—”
“How are you doing?”
“Fine,” she snapped. And then reeled in her temper. “I’m sorry. I just … it’s like you’re freezing me out.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re not talking to me.”
“Then why are my lips moving.”
“How is this happening again,” she muttered as she mirrored his pose, crossing her arms over her own chest. “I just want things to be … normal between us.”
“They are.”
“Bullshit! You’re standing over there like a statue—that’s my job, okay? I’m the one who’s supposed to be frozen. Why can’t you be real, and tell me to screw off, or that I was a bitch, or—”
“You want me to be honest?”
“Yes! Damn it.” God, she was sounding less and less like a Chosen. Cursing, using vernacular. Then again, she was feeling less and less like a Chosen. “Hello? You going to say something?”
“You sure?”
“For the love … look, do you just want me to go—”
“No. I want you on your back, in my bed, with your legs spread and my mouth all over you.”
Selena stopped talking. Breathing. Thinking.
He cocked an eyebrow. “That honest enough for you? Or do you want me to go back to pretending I’m not thinking about sex right now. With you.”
Okay, now she was the one being quiet. And he laughed harshly.
“Not what you had in mind, huh. I don’t blame you.” He turned the knob on the door and opened things up, repeating his “after you” gesture. “If you want to keep talking now, I suggest that you let me get dressed and meet up with you on neutral territory.”
Selena looked down at his hips. She had known his body fully only once, when he had taken her virginity, and she was well aware that he was phearsom.
Was he hard now?
“Selena?” A flash of annoyance tightened his face. “Let me meet you downstairs. In the kitchen.”
Without conscious thought, she brought her aching hands to the tie on her robe.
His eyes instantly tracked the movement.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
She pulled the knot free and let the length of silk fall loose. With every breath she took, the robe parted a little further, until a path of flesh running from her throat to her sex was exposed. Trez’s stare, that dark stare, dipped low, and all at once, the scent of him surged, filling the room with an erotic spice.
Selena eased the robe from her shoulders, letting the soft fabric drift to the floor. “Close the door, would you. I’d like some privacy.”
TWENTY-ONE
Trez’s cock had its own heartbeat. And that was before Selena went full-frontal at him. After that reveal? The damn thing had its own conscious thought pattern.
Mine.
When he heard the door shut, he wasn’t sure whether some hand of his had reclosed it, or whether he’d simply willed the thing back into place.
“You sure about this?” he growled, already taking a step toward her. “Because I won’t be able to stop.”
“Yes.” Her eyes did not rise to meet his. They stayed locked at his hips. “Oh, yes. Let me see you.”
As he came to stand right in front of her, he said, “What about all those humans I was with.”
“You’re going to bring them up now?” She took the tie to his own robe with one of her hands. “Really?”
He stopped her from getting him naked. “Nothing has changed about me.”
“That’s your hang-up, not mine.”
“In my tradition—”
“Which is not mine.”
“—I am contaminated.”
“Why are you still talking.”
With that, she shook his hold free and uncovered him, loosening the tie, pulling the folds of black fabric from his body. His sex was fully erect, jutting out between them.
And that was the next thing she put her hands on.
Trez groaned and let his head fall back on his spine.
“You’re hot,” she breathed as she leaned in and kissed the skin over his heart. “And hard.”
“Selena, I’m serious.” He fumbled to stop her before she got to stroking. “I want to honor you—”
“You’re wasting time.”
With that she got on her knees and took over. As she was a tall female, her mouth was at the perfect height, and God save them both, she put it to use, extending her pink tongue to lick at the head of him. The velvet rasp left him shaking all over, and before he went the way of the robes and hit the fucking floor, he leaned forward and braced both hands on the nearest thing he could reach.
The bureau. Or it could have been the hood of a car. Santa’s sleigh. A refrigerator.
Warm and wet, she drew him in, the suction and all the slick wiping out the world, bringing him instantly to the brink.
Gritting his teeth, he groaned, “I’m going to come—oh, fuck, I’m going to—”
He had some thought that he didn’t want to disrespect her by orgasming in her—
Selena eased back, opened her mouth, and extended that magic tongue. Looking up at him, she started to pump hard at the same time she lazily licked at his tip.
Trez lasted, oh, maybe a second and a half. And as his release kicked out of him, she took it all, swallowing, sucking, easing back so he could cover her lips and her face. God help her, he kept orgasming, an endless sexual urge locking onto his body as he marked her, his scent blanketing her in an ownership that was primordial.
Defend. Protect. Love.
All of it was in this sacred space.
Mine.
When he finally stilled, she sat back on her heels and then, with a series of kill-me-slow moves, she licked around her mouth. Brought up her fingers, captured the slick trail on her chin, and sucked things clean. Looked down at her perfect breasts.
Cupping the full weights, she smiled at what had dripped down, making the swells and those tight nipples of hers glisten. “You got me messy.”
“Where did you learn how to do that?” he choked out.
At least that was what he’d meant to say. The syllables came out a jumble of incoherent sound.
“What was that?” she whispered, before lifting one of her breasts up and bending her tongue down.
She lapped at herself.