Sweet as Sin (29 page)

He raised his head slightly to see her and smiled. “I have a sit-down scheduled with my agent. There’s a CG movie company showing interest in
The Crystal Tear.
”

“Murphy, that’s great!”

“Maybe,” he grunted, applying more force to the hanging thingy. “We’ll see. I’m not sold on the idea, no matter how much they’re paying.”

“Why not? I think it’s wonderful. We need to celebrate.”

“Nothing to celebrate yet. I’m not sure I want it to happen. That’s why Christina asked me to come up and discuss things. She thinks it’s great, too, but I don’t know.”

“Why?” Livvy wrinkled her nose in confusion.

How could he not be thrilled someone wanted to 320

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turn his monsters into a movie? To her it seemed the pinnacle of success.

He pulled the pliers thingy back to his chest with a deep sigh. “Because Liv,
I
draw Jondi. I’m the author
and
illustrator. I’m not sure I want someone else giving them life, you know?”

“But you gave them life, put them in print.

How is that different?”

“Because I control who sees what, what goes to print. My words, my drawings, they’re all mine.

Alan tried to take…” Squinting his eyes shut, his voice dropped to a gruffer, deeper octave.

“Even…even when I was in… After he died, if I wrote something or drew something, it got taken and examined and… No, Liv, I don’t want
anyone
touching my work.”

Livvy grimaced at his tone then softened at the implication. She wasn’t just anyone. That he’d given her the trashed drawings to use showed how much she meant to him. But she’d never even think about touching his monsters and frankly pitied whoever did. Facing the Master of Monsters when he was pissed would make anyone wet their pants.

“Why bother going to New York then?”

John fit the pliers back on the hanging thing. “I promised Christina I’d be a good little client.

Think you can go?”

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“I wish I could. I haven’t been there in years.

But I have three Adult Cravings baskets and two cakes from our new Dark Cravings line scheduled on top of everything else. I’m getting orders from three counties and I had to stop taking orders for Halloween. It’s a critical time at the Shack, new product, trying to make it work. Even with David full-time, we’re swamped. I have Pam and Justine slated to pull a double shift on Friday.”

“You need to hire more people, another pastry chef or something.”

Livvy huffed. “Trust me, I would love to but I just can’t right now. I hope maybe soon. I hit a vein that was untapped and I plan to suck it dry like a starving vampire.”

A low snigger seeped from under the truck.

“Bloodthirsty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Hey, my shop means as much to me as your monsters do to you. I can’t let anyone take it from me. This could be the wave of income I need right now.”

“Are things that tight? I mean, if you need a loan—”

“Do
not
finish that sentence.” The bite in her words left teeth marks in the air and determination tightened her lips. “The Shack is fine. I don’t need help.”

Wisely, John kept his mouth shut. Livvy thrust the white chef coat under her legs as a cushion 322

Sweet as Sin

from the scrape of rock. How was his back not screaming? She wondered if the thickened skin from the beatings had anything to do with it.

A grunt and a string of curse words flowed from beneath the truck.

“You need your mouth washed out with soap, know that?”

A rough chuckle sounded from the belly of the Ford beast. “So PJ kept reminding me.”

“How’s Gina?”

Another grumble, a lower curse and a loud exhale spewed out. “All right. Sore. Waiting to find anything out.”

Just as she bent to peer under the carriage, his grunt gave way with a clank and a spit word of pain. Livvy scrambled back as his body shuffled out from under the truck. He sat up with a growl and reached for the red cloth. Blood welled from his knuckles.

“Don’t do that, that thing is filthy!” She cupped her hand over the slight wound, applying some pressure before holding her coat to his fist.

“You’re going to ruin that.” He grinned but allowed her to fuss. “It’s not that bad. The manufacturer put the damn filter on too tight and I busted my knuckles. Stings for a bit, but it’s nothing.”

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“Oh, hush up and let me fret, all right? That’s what a woman does when someone she loves gets hurt.”

Once the words left her mouth, she snapped her lips closed. But it was too late. He’d heard them in daylight and she couldn’t really be sorry. She dared a glance up.

He smiled, light dancing in his eyes. Black oil tipped his fingers so he stroked her cheek with the back of his left hand. “I like hearing that again.”

Her stomach quivered until it fluttered like laundry in a breeze. A long curl waved in front of her nose and she brushed it away before dropping a light kiss on his hand. The smile slid from his lips. He crawled back under the truck.

“Go wash up. I got oil on your cheek.”

Livvy shook her head in confusion at his

abrupt dismissal.
What the hell was that about?

Once in the bathroom, she stared at her reflected face. A small streak of oil and blood lined her cheekbone, probably from her own hand. An inkling of understanding dawned on her.

Andrea had told her how John reacted to

Tyler’s accident. Now he’d shoved her away.

Soap foamed on the washcloth as she scrubbed at her cheek. The oil on her skin wasn’t the problem.

It had been the blood that scared him.

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Revulsion coated his tongue with thick cottony bile. Beneath the motor, John inhaled several exhaust-flavored breaths, trying to slow his racing heart.

Firmly he fixed his eyes on the underside of the motor. It looked like a massive pit of twisted dusty black snakes, writhing into a heaving mass around blocks and chunks. Serpents began hissing in his ear. His fisted hands smacked the gravel.
No!

Slow. Control. Breathe. Relax.

It made perfect sense in a twisted way.

Logically, John knew he was under some stress, knew he had chosen to make some huge changes in his life. All were triggers for flashbacks, nightmares and irrational fears, even if he hadn’t had them in years. It was his mind’s way of processing old issues and accepting new ones.

They were healthy.

“Healing brain purges” was what the state shrink had called them. John preferred “mental-baggage vomit.” But knowing it and dealing with it had always been two different matters. The suddenness always shocked him. There was never a warning when a flash would strike, just the overall niggling in the back of his mind that monsters lay in wait before the starburst popped behind his eyelids.

At his lowest point, the flashbacks had lasted for hours and then could come back to back. The Inez Kelley

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reality that he and Gina were safe was too hard to grasp, and his brain had revolted. John thought he’d lost his mind, or even worse, that his mind had split in two. He’d retreated so often to the safe place in his subconscious, the high mountains of Windago and the comfort of Andros’s arms and Thorn’s wings, he was afraid one day he’d never want to leave.

Last night he’d looked down at his nephew’s sleeping face and had seen it once again covered in blood. The split-second vision opened the doorway for a million swirling images to crash down, eating at his gut like vultures in a Greek myth. Phantom pain had ricocheted through his body, stomach tightening in fear and skin burning with blows that had stopped years before.

Warbled hymns sounded in his ears, drowned out by screamed sermons and shouted curses. It nearly brought him to his knees before he snatched control away from the demons. It had still taken two hours under the weights, with four frantic breaks to double-check the door locks, before he could breathe normally.

He’d crawled into bed beside Livvy and the last wisps of terror had finally faded. Just the smell of her skin soothed him. She was what he needed. Still, the nightmares came.

But awake, he’d learned to have power over the memories, to focus and redirect the energy. He 326

Sweet as Sin

had healed in more than body. For a moment, he considered finding a doctor. Medication had helped slow his mind before, allowing him to work through things. He’d hated it and the side effects and couldn’t wait to be rid of the damn things. So he’d weaned himself off it and dealt with it by sheer willpower. Just like he would do now.

Normally, the sight of blood didn’t bother him.

He’d certainly seen enough of it through the years, most of it his own. But Tyler was so small, so dependent on his uncle to keep him safe that every ounce of logic and information had evaporated.

He’d taken one look and went blank. The only thought in his head had been he’d failed. Failed Gina, failed Tyler, failed to protect them.

And Livvy, his angel, her face marred by the thin swath of red, had jabbed his gut with exaggerated fear. His blood should not—could not—ever stain her. Would he fail her, too? For the first time since making his choice, he questioned his path. Could he really do this? He needed Livvy. But could he be what Livvy needed him to be? He wanted to. He’d never wanted anything more.

One terrifying phrase leaped to his mind.
The
road to hell is paved with good intentions.

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After carrying every single pillow in the house she could find to his bed, Livvy stood outside the bathroom door and bit her lip. Seducing John should be easy. He had the libido of an eighteen-year-old. If she blinked the right way, he’d take her. But she wanted to take him, make him lose control, love him until he ached. She wanted this to work even more than her dreams for her business. John was her future.

She gripped the doorknob and slipped inside the room. Billows of steam rolled upward and dripped down the mirror. Behind the frosted glass, John kept showering. Livvy eased the rear shower door open and stepped in.

John held his head under the stinging spray with his back to her. Water sluiced down his body, over tight muscles that made her tongue stray to the corner of her mouth. The second arc of water jutted over her head. One hand reached out to him through the shower spray before drawing back. He didn’t know she was here. Touching him might not be the best way to announce it.

She cleared her throat. “I believe somebody needed their mouth washed out with soap.”

Droplets from his hair pelted her as he spun around. A wide shameless grin shone as he slicked wet hair away from his face. Livvy stepped into the second spray, tilting her head back to let the water flow through her curls and 328

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down her arched back. She stretched like a sun-warmed cat. Thin streams of water coursed over her body, dripping off already tightened nipples.

John liked watching and Livvy was counting on that. One thing about taking an erotic shower with a man was there was zero chance for him to hide his interest. His eyebrow wasn’t the only thing rising. He moved until he nearly touched her, his voice dropping low in a tease.

“I thought you took a shower before dinner.”

She crossed her arms under her breasts, her hands not quite covering the tips. The motion rounded them fuller and his nostrils flared with his inhale. She loved that he loved her breasts. He made her feel seductive and feminine with just his eyes. She loved that he was a noisy lover, as if the basic instinctual urges were barely contained. He made her feel alluring and sensual. She loved that he always held back until she’d reached pleasure before taking his own. He made her feel cherished and treasured. She loved him. He made her feel loved.

A bold step brought her to him, nipples

skimming his chest as she reached around his arm.

Water dripped from his chin, landing on her shoulder.

“I think I missed a few places. Wash my back for me, Murphy?”

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Pulling her wet hair to one side, she handed him the gel bottle and turned, watching him over her shoulder. His lips landed on her neck. The scratch of whiskers electrified her. Warm liquid soap drizzled across her back, contrasting against his rough hands. Wet fire danced across her skin.

Long, slow strokes spread the glaze down her spine, along her ribcage and across her hips.

Frothy bubbles slid along her back and his fingers followed, cupping her ass before tracing a path down the cleft. A quick inhale expanded her lungs and his arm circled her waist, bringing her back to him.

His teeth nipped her ear. “Don’t move. You wouldn’t want me to miss washing anyplace, would you?”

Livvy pressed her behind against him, cradling his rigid cock in the valley of her ass. The soap gave her motions a silken glide and he groaned against her skin. He massaged her breasts and her peaked nipples were rolled until they throbbed, pinched until they stung, stroked until her spine melted. He let one hand slip down her tummy, fingers combing through the damp triangle.

“Definitely don’t want to miss this part.”

John knew her body well, knew where she was most sensitive, what brought the most pleasure.

Several lighter-than-air flickers over her clit had her panting. Sizzling sparks ignited in deep hidden 330

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places and she began to ache. It was too much, too soon. She wanted him hungry—no,
starving—
for her.

Livvy shoved away from him and spun. There was no mercy in her kiss, just pure lust. The harder she took his mouth, the harder he grew.

She swallowed his moan before it touched the humid air. Slick wet muscles pressed tight to her as hot water flowed over their bodies. One large hand fisted in her hair and he pulled her head back, exposing her throat to his kiss. She growled her pleasure.

She reached over his shoulder to the shower gel. “My turn.”

The cap popped under her thumb and she

squeezed soap over one tight deltoid. She smoothed the pearly liquid across his arm and chest while his teeth captured her earlobe.