Immortally Yours, An Urban Fantasy Romance (Monster MASH, Book 1) Page 8

  My nipples tightened as he ran his hands up my sides, over my white tank top. I wished it were my bare skin. "I got lucky," he said, stopping just below my breasts.

  God. I wanted him. I wanted this.

  I shifted so I could feel him. He was rock-hard and ready. My hands fisted at my sides. I could touch him. I could feel the whole hot length of him in my hand. I could make him gasp again.

  I dug my fingers into my palms until it hurt. "So what kind of scorpions were those anyway?"

  His gaze turned steely, ripping over me with a ferocity that stung. "Petra," he said, his thumb tracing my lower lip, "shut up."

  He gripped my shoulders and edged me against the smooth side of a broken-down Humvee.

  For an instant he stilled. Our breaths mingled, fast and ready. Every nerve sizzled, and my senses sharpened. My body thrummed with anticipation. I shouldn't be doing this. He'd be gone soon.

  I could end this. I could let him leave. But then I'd never know what it was like to slide naked against him, hot and sweaty and eager, his mouth on my breast, his teeth grazing the nipple.

  The moonlight framed him like a halo. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as his mouth hovered over mine. He bent his head slowly, and I closed my eyes tight as his mouth touched mine.

  His lips were soft, so unlike the rest of him. His kiss was languid and sensual, as if he was savoring every last bit of it, committing it to memory.

  I unclenched my fingers and touched them to the hard plane of his chest. The corners of my mouth curved up and I slipped closer, fitting him against me. He groaned and pressed tighter, his mouth gentle, his fingers sliding through my hair.

  I'd never expected this. Him. Galen the big, bad special ops soldier was kissing me slow and sensual and raw.

  He had to be on an adrenaline high. Hell, I knew he was. But he didn't push. He didn't shove. He took it painfully and achingly slow.

  He kissed the edges of my mouth, dipped in, teasing me with his tongue. It was earth-shatteringly intimate. Strong, cool Galen of Delphi had a tender side. But hadn't I known that? I'd seen it in his soul.

  Fear crept into the corner of my mind.

  I'd never imagined anything like this, like him. My entire body was alive, lit up from the inside.

  I couldn't share that with him. It was too much.

  But we could have something else. I knew he wanted me. I nibbled his lower lip, ground hard against his arousal.

  He groaned low in the back of his throat. I trailed my fingers down his belly, to where his taut skin disappeared under the pajama pants. I yanked the ties open.

  "What do you want, Galen?"

  "God damn it, Petra," he hissed as I slid my hands around the edge, then underneath. And then he went perfectly still as I ran my hands over his hips and down his lean, hard thighs.

  "Tell me what you want to do to me, Galen."

  His hot breath scalded my cheek. "I'm going to kiss you until your juice is running down your legs. Then I'm going to strip you naked, lick it up, and suck on your clit until you come."

  "Oh gods."

  He shoved me back against the side of the Humvee and pinned me there with an eating, devouring kiss. I wound my hands through his hair, yanking him closer. There was no more thinking. No more doubt. I wound myself shamelessly around him, raw and primal and powerful. This was how it was supposed to be.

  He shoved my scrub pants down. I kicked them off as he arched my leg around his neck and fell on his knees in front of me.

  I jerked my head back as I felt his mouth on my inner thigh, the rough brush of his cheek. God, I was so wet. He lingered, kissing his way up to the core of me. I wanted to scream, thrash, make him go faster.

  At last his lips and tongue found me. His shoulders shook as he tasted me. Slowly, he licked the very center of me.

  "More," I pleaded, my heel at his back, squirming closer. "Galen."

  He broke at the sound of his name, groaning out loud as he devoured me. My body reeled at the tidal wave of sensation. My legs quivered. My hips thrust. There was no holding back, not anymore.

  His hands tightened on my thighs, opening me wider, pushing me harder as I came with a scream.

  He kept with me, never letting up. The force of it ripped through me.

  And then boneless, panting, and shuddering, I watched as he ran his tongue along the inside of one quivering thigh, then the other. I was riveted, shocked, and I grew even wetter as he lapped up my juices. He was slow and indulgent.

  He reveled in it.

  "Galen, I—" I began, gasping for breath, for sanity.

  He gazed up at me, his blue eyes piercing, his mouth wet. "I told you what I was going to do."

  He caressed me as he stood.

  Both of us stiffened as screams pierced the night. He whipped his head around, as if he could see into the darkness.

  "Imps," he said, "here in the minefield."

  I was still half submerged in a mix of searing excitement and bone-drenching lassitude. "How do you know?" I asked, clawing my way back to the real world.

  The scar across his right eyebrow furrowed as he gave me a you've-got-to-be-kidding look.

  "You're still in danger," he said, retying his pajama pants. He found mine on the ground and returned them to me. Hands shaking, I tugged them on.

  I could see the outline of his cock, long and thick under the thin cotton. I still wanted to touch it.

  He saw me staring and grinned. "I've created a monster."

  I laughed at that, wondering just how true it was.

  He sheltered me behind him as a hissing crackle pierced the air. I looked on top of the jeep and saw the assassin's body smoke and bubble, folding into itself, boiling down into the caved-in roof. The metal groaned and collapsed. I gasped as it took the stinger of the first scorpion with it, along with the entire front end of the vehicle.

  I stared, wide-eyed. "Please tell me they're dead at least," I said, barely finding my voice.

  "They're definitely not going anywhere." He glanced over his shoulder at me. "Let's help this last one along."

  Galen took two steps backward and located a long piece of steel that might have been a stretcher support or perhaps part of a helicopter blade. No matter. He lifted it like it weighed nothing, his broad shoulders steady, the muscles in his back flexing.

  Holy heck. To think I'd ordered this soldier into a wheelchair.

  I watched as bounded up onto the front of the jeep.

  Legs spread, he plunged the improvised spear into the abdomen of the scorpion on the hood.

  The metal hissed as the creature's flesh crackled around it.

  He used an arm to wipe the sweat from his face. "I must have missed the heart the first time," he said, dodging a sizzling pile of goo.

  Oh sure. That was it. "If I had a nickel for every time that happened to me."

  "Do you have a smart answer for everything?" he asked, jumping down.

  "Not lately." I swallowed hard. "What are they?"

  His chest and shoulders stiffened. "Carnivorous scorpions."

  "Carnivorous?" I wanted to bend in half and cry like a baby.

  He wore a calculating expression. "Come on," he said, leading me past the giant bugs. "They were sent by the old gods," he added, glancing sideways at the wreck, "or at least that's who usually uses carnivorous scorpions."

  Holy hell. What if the old gods knew I could see the dead? What if they were after me?

  Horrific screams pierced the night. The imps were getting closer. "Faster," he said, taking my hand.

  Chapter Eight

  "Imps never come into the minefield," I said, glancing behind us as we made it back onto the path. Father McArio warded our camp extremely well.

  Galen handed me the upper half of my torch. "I doubt you have killer scorpions, either."

  Touché.

  I was all for hightailing it out of there, but what I'd give for another few minutes up against that Humvee. I felt raw under my clothes, ready. Galen wa
s like gourmet chocolate: One taste just wasn't enough.

  Next time, I wanted him as buck naked as I was.

  If there was a next time.

  God, I was so hopeless.

  "Hold up," he said.

  I dug my standard-issue lighter out of my jacket pocket and set fire to the torch while Galen searched the area around us.

  "Earlier," he said, keeping an eye on me, "when we went out walking, I could tell something was following us. I just didn't know what."

  It sank in with sickening clarity. "These things were stalking me?" "Only two," he clarified, as if that made a difference. I supposed it did if you were fighting them, like Galen did.

  He stopped in front of a heap of twisted metal. His shoulder and trunk muscles flexing, he yanked a formidable-looking bar out of the wreck like a sword. "All set," he said to himself, hefting it in one hand.

  "Yeah, well, some of us aren't big, bad demi-gods." I let out another involuntary shudder.

  He must have mistaken it for a chill because when he returned to me, he slipped an arm around my back and pulled me close as we walked. It felt achingly good.

  His heat wound through me. God, he even smelled like sex.

  The rocks crunched under our boots. "I don't think they could get into camp, or they would have," he said, completely focused on the task at hand.

  "Oh, well, that's comforting."

  "I should never have let you out of my sight," he said, his voice a deep rumble against my ear. He kissed me right where the lobe curved, and I felt my knees buckle.

  Both of us pretended not to notice when he propped me up.

  "I'm not completely helpless," I said, although the jury was still out on that one.

  He laughed. "You hold your own."

  I returned his smile, leaning into him. I was amazed we were even here.

  "There's one piece of this puzzle I don't understand," he said.

  "Only one?"

  "When gods order a carnivorous scorpion for a kill, they give them a very specific assignment. Find the one who stole the White Hind of Diana, for example." He looked down at me as if he already knew the answer. "What could they have used to distinguish you as a mark?"

  Dread slithered through me. My ability to see the dead? Or maybe the bronze dagger that wouldn't leave me alone.

  I was suddenly glad I hadn't left it with Father McArio. I couldn't imagine him on the edge of the limbo wastelands with a carnivorous assassin locator beacon.

  "Tell me this," I said, turning it around on him. "How did you make it out of recovery?"

  He seemed amused at that. "I'm elite special forces. I know how to sneak around." He brushed some dirt away from my cheek with his thumb. "I'm glad you're safe."

  God, what would it have been like to make love to this man? "Thanks for saving me."

  He cupped my chin with raw tenderness. "I could say the same to you."

  He tilted his head to kiss me, and my entire body thrummed in anticipation. At the last second, his gaze flicked to the darkness behind us. "Quickly," he said.

  I glanced behind, unable to see anything but black as we picked up the pace.

  "Have you actually fought imps?" I asked. It was amazing how safe I felt with him.

  "Yes. Keep your eyes peeled. They like to ambush."

  We made our way through the cold night. Me, hurrying. Him, stalking like a predator. Forget about pranks. He didn't even miss a loose rock in front of us. Which was good because I'd seen pictures of imps, with their scaly skin, sharp claws, and rows of scalpel-sharp teeth, but I really didn't want to meet any.

  Galen had us out of the minefield with startling efficiency. Below the cemetery, I could see the torches of our camp, and the welcoming light from the hospital tents.

  "Your wards are stronger here," he said.

  "Good," I said, eyeing the junkyard behind us as if something was going to come jumping out. "I can't believe we walked that fast without tripping any pranks."

  "You mean like this?" Galen eased a mummified scarab out of the pocket of his pajama bottoms and held it under the flickering torchlight. "I found it on the way in. Thought it was kind of cute."

  "Ew." The thing looked like it had been digested and spit out. "How did you even know it was a prank?"

  "There was a sign next to it." He nudged me forward. "Come on," he said, as we started back toward camp.

  "You'll have to tell Jeffe you were scared."

  "The sphinx? That would mean admitting I snuck out of recovery."

  "Don't worry. I think you'll be missed," I said, dreading that explanation.

  He grinned down at me. "Escapes are one of my specialties."

  That and slaying giant scorpions. I stuck close, glad for the company as we navigated the maze of graves. He was my personal warrior, at least until I shipped him out.

  "Tell me," he said, his voice casual while he kept a steady guard against the surrounding night. "You've always been able to see the dead, right?"

  I nodded.

  "You've kept your secret."

  "You know what would happen if I didn't."

  I was glad to see even he cringed a little. "Then why tonight? Why now?"

  I shook my head. I wasn't sure. "Maybe they weren't following me. Maybe I was at the wrong place at the wrong time." I sure as hell wasn't going to visit Father McArio at night anymore, if at all.

  "You want to know what I think?" he asked, scoping the darkness behind us.

  "No."

  The man would be perfect if he didn't have so many theories.

  He glanced down at me before returning to his vigil. "I think we're already on this journey. From the moment you pulled that dagger out of me, it was decided."

  I shook my head. "Nobody else saw what happened between us." If they had, I'd have been taken and punished already. I tucked my hair behind my ears. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but what happened back there feels like a shot in the dark."

  Unless the knife had attracted them to me. If that was the case, there was nothing I could do.

  He gritted his jaw as he worked it through. "That's what I'm wondering, too. They know there's a doctor out there who sees the dead, and who pulled out the bronze dagger. The gods on either side could have sent the scorpions."

  "Wait, so you're saying our side could be trying to kill me?"

  "They're trying to stop the prophecy. Which means the first part has already come true."

  I brought a hand to my temple. "I think we already had this argument."

  "Discussion," he ground out. "Just because you refuse to see the truth doesn't mean it isn't happening."

  Maybe I'd go back in and face those imps. It was better than having this conversation.

  We walked in silence until we reached the dirt path beyond the funeral pyres.

  When we stepped past the wards near the edge of the cemetery I wanted to collapse in relief. "Okay, let's get you back to the hospital."

  He barked out a laugh. "I can't go to the hospital. I'm guarding you."

  "I've never felt more cared for." Every inch of me. His eyes flared as he caught my meaning. "But I can't have a patient in my tent." Even worse, "Everyone thinks we're doing it."

  He broke into a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. "Aren't we?"

  Just shoot me now. I fought off a blush. "It doesn't mean I can keep you in my tent."

  He had to see how ridiculous it was. I'd never gotten close to a patient, never dated a patient, and now I'd almost slept with one who was now going to follow me home and stay for how long? I didn't know. Worse, a part of me thought it could be a pretty good idea.

  Of course that was the part of me that wasn't thinking about prophecies, seeing the dead, or the bronze knife in my pocket.

  The dust wasn't packed down here like it was on the paths, and my righteous stomping whipped up a small cloud. I could practically taste the staleness in the air.

  "I don't care what it looks like," he said behind me.

  "Obviously," I s
aid, dodging a leaning Celtic cross.

  He took my arm and stopped me cold. The playfulness was gone. In front of me stood a fierce protector. "Do you realize what almost happened back there? You almost got eaten. I don't know how you were marked. I suspect you do. And until we get to the bottom of this, you need a bodyguard."

  "You said the wards were good," I protested, my body warming like a traitor at the thought.

  His eyes swept over me, missing absolutely nothing. "Right now. But there's no guarantee. You need strength and power." He planted his weapon in the dirt. The corner of his mouth betrayed a grin. "Now, are you going to see reason or am I going to have to quiet you down again?"

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I hated being backed into a corner, living this nightmare. Because there were big, bad things out to get me. Everything he said was true.

  "Petra," a voice called from the main path. I turned to see three supply officers, clapping.

  They knew we'd been to the minefield. And of course they assumed the worst.

  "Oh, grow up," I said, both relieved and disappointed as the moment was broken. I navigated the slope of the cemetery and jumped down the small rise onto the path.

  Galen took it in stride. "Officers," he nodded as we passed.

  I watched the trio ogling us even after they should have been long gone. There. That just proved my point. "You can't expect me to take you back to my tent now."

  Galen walked easily next to me. "Even if what they suspect were true— that I were going back to 'do' you, as you put it— where is the shame? You are an incredibly sensual woman."

  He said it as if it were a simple fact. The sun rose in the morning, the gods fought, and I was a sensual woman worthy of a demi-god. I hadn't even gotten a date to senior prom. Not that I'd wanted to go. I was too busy studying to get early acceptance into the med program at Loyola. But still.

  He almost made me want to be that girl that a demi-god could lose himself in.

  Incredible.

  He was going to save the world, get the girl, and have hot sex in my tent.

  "I hesitate to ask," he said, as if he could see the wheels turning, "but what are you thinking?"

  I shook my head. "That out of all the men in this camp, I had to go for a hot warrior with a Superman complex."