The Protectors Christmas Box Set (sexy paranormal romances) (15 page)

“Yes, I’ve done this before.” He plopped down next to her on the plush sofa and cradled his head in his hands.

“Could have fooled me,” she scoffed. “You should at least have a handbook ready or a lecture prepared. Visuals would be nice, too.”

He rolled his eyes. “No one has ever reacted to the news with a shrug. Aren’t you the least bit skeptical? Shouldn’t you argue with me that I’m wrong?”

“Are you?”

“No. I’m telling you the truth.” He looked quite adorably put out. A lock of dark, brown hair slipped over his brow. If she weren’t still feeling so weak, she would have hugged him.

“I’m being pragmatic.” She inched closer to him because he was warm and she craved his heat, and his other parts, but she didn’t want to think about that. Acting like a wanton still felt new and frightening. “I’ve always known I was different. Why should I argue with you if what you’re telling me is something I know in my heart to be true?”

“Because…because…most people feel some sort of emotion!”

He was wrong. She was feeling an emotion. A strange sense of calm had filled her, and she was starting to regret it. “What’s the acceptable reaction, then?”

“They usually cry.”

“Why?” She didn’t feel the least bit like crying, not when this not being human business explained so much.

“I don’t know.”

“Did
you
cry?”

He grew very still.

“My situation was different than most,” he said. His cool voice made her shiver. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

They sat in silence for several moments. The only sound in the room was the tap, tap of her fingernail against the side of her ceramic mug. He reached over and took it from her. Their hands touched. A spark of heat jumped between them.

“You asked what we were.” His voice softened. “There is no easy answer for that because none of us really know. The best I can do is a description. All of us are foundlings.”

“No,” she whispered. Her childhood wasn’t one she’d wish on anyone.

“No parents at all,” he continued. “Each of us appeared out of nothing and was raised by humans. But no one truly accepted us or treated us as their own because we were different, and the humans sensed it.”

That sounded only too painfully familiar.

“Our unusual beginning isn’t the only thing that marks us as different. As adulthood approaches, we start developing powers.”

“Powers?”

“Each of us has our own unique abilities. I can’t tell you what yours are. You’ll have to discover them for yourself.”

“Do I have any now?” She snapped her fingers. “Like make fire shoot out from my fingertips?” She snapped them again.

He caught her hand and held it as if worried flames might actually spring from her fingertips and singe his smooth plaster ceiling.

“That probably wouldn’t be a good thing to try inside,” he said. And he sounded serious! “There is energy all around us in the air and traveling through the dimensions of the universe. For some reason, we all have an ability to tap into this energy, to direct it and sometimes change it into something tangible…like fire. Learning how to use and control the energy is what takes time and practice.”

“So I have to wait and see what I can do?
If
I can do anything?” That didn’t seem fair. She wanted to prove to herself and to Brendan that she was actually different. Special.

“You do have at least one power that I know about. You can turn back time. It’s a form of trans-dimensional shift. For most, it takes years of practice. You. You’re an anomaly. A strong one at that.”

“I can’t turn back time.”

“No? Yesterday morning when you were trying to get to my office, you threw back the clock at least three times. Don’t you remember?”

No, he had to be mistaken. Trans-dimensional—what did he call it? Whatever it was, it was something way beyond her comprehension. And if she didn’t understand it, how in the hell could she have possibly pulled off something like that?

“Think about it.” His voice had deepened. It brushed her body like an intimate caress.

She closed her eyes and remembered the frantic dreams where she tried over and over to get to her interview, but always failed. “I had nightmare,” she admitted.

“Last night wasn’t a dream and those weren’t nightmares. We’re different, Dallas.”

“Not human, right?” She gave him a wry smile. “So what are we? Demons? Fairies? No, don’t tell me…we’re aliens from Mars.” She giggled at the thought. It must have been the calming tea making her lightheaded and giddy.

He shrugged. “We could be any or all of those. I don’t know. None of us do.”

“You really need to work on your presentation. I need visuals. And definitive answers.”

“I’m sorry, but there isn’t a handbook. What we’ve learned has been taught to us by those who came before us. Over the ages, we’ve picked up new tidbits of knowledge here and there mostly through happenstance. We are all the same—foundlings with no one to guide or train us. Much like the humans, we each have to search to find our purpose in the world.”

Not being human was all well and good, but she needed to be able to attach a name to her new state of existence.

“There has to be a better answer.”

“I wish I could tell you more, Dallas, but I can’t.”

“And the danger stalking me?” she asked, hoping he could at least explain that much to her.

“
The darkness
.”

Another empty answer. Darkness. That didn’t mean anything to her.

No…

Wait…

A distant memory returned from the orphanage. A frightening power had haunted her throughout the long winter nights, staying just on the periphery of her life and had scared her like the boogieman hiding in the closet. There had been no one to run to for comfort. No one had wanted to listen to her tears. She closed her eyes and shivered.

“It’s a power that exists alongside the other powers in the universe. But this one is dark. Destructive. It devours our spirit and leaves behind a being of hate and a force of destruction,” he was saying.

“Anger and loneliness,” she added. “I know this darkness. Like an old friend, it has always been with me.”

* * * * *

“Damn.”

Brendan had hoped her infection with
the darkness
had been a new condition, one he could extinguish. There was no known history of a child—a being of light and air—who’d been taken by
the darkness
. Could her tender years truly have been that terrible?

It staggered him to try and imagine a situation bad enough to attract
the darkness
to an innocent. Nothing could have been worse than what he’d survived. His rocky childhood had made him believe hell was a place the unlucky ones like him went for vacation, and yet
the darkness
hadn’t come for
him
.

He reached out and stroked her warm, silky-soft cheek.

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he whispered. “You’re strong. You can defeat this. I will help you.”

She gave him a brave smile, but he recognized the doubt lingering on her lips. He’d once held onto doubt like a babe with a security blanket, believing that he’d experience less pain in keeping the status quo than in taking a risk on the unknown.

He supposed fate had thrown them together because she needed him to show her that life didn’t have to be wrapped around anger and loneliness.

He moved closer to her and put his arm around her shoulder. “Let me in, tender one. Let me help you.”

Even with her shivering like a frightened, soggy wren, he felt a kick of desire for her. It took nearly all his self-control not to pull her into his arms and kiss her until the shadows of doubt darkening her grassy-green eyes disappeared.

He’d tasted her power last night. In the light of day, it called to him like an addictive drug. He craved her complete and total surrender. In return he would give her the world.

She craved him, too. When he’d mentioned that they needed to get started with business, her thoughts had gone straight to sex. God, that’d been nearly more temptation than he could handle.

But no, he had made himself suffer even though he could smell the scent of her desire clinging to her clothes like a musky perfume. He’d suffered because it had been his duty to explain to her what she was and what it meant.

Her calm acceptance only proved how detached she’d let herself become from her longings and passions. But he knew firsthand her passions hadn’t gone away. On some level, she doubtlessly had felt every pinprick of fear and uncertainty…that, along with the ugliness
the darkness
brought with it.

If left unchecked, she would eventually explode into a jumble of destructive emotions. In order to help her, he needed to bond with her. He needed to win her trust.

“How are you feeling?” His voice nearly cracked under the strain of anticipation. He wanted her under him. Now.

What better way to strengthen a bond than sex?

She blinked up at him. Mischief danced in her bright gaze.

“I…don’t…know,” she said, slowly. Teasingly. “I’m still cold. If you’re willing…” She batted her lovely dark eyelashes. “…I wouldn’t mind if you could help warm me up.”

“Tender, I’m willing to do more than just get you warm. I’m ready to make you hot enough to steam up the bedroom windows.”

As he pulled her onto his lap, his cock hardened from the feel of her snuggling closer. Her bottom wiggled and pressed against the length of him.

This was for her…not himself. But, Heaven help him, he was going to enjoy exploring every beautiful inch of her.

The blankets had to go. And then his coat. With her help, they dropped to the carpeted floor. His fevered gaze raked over her. She still wore far too many clothes.

He growled his frustrations before lifting her into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. The door swung closed behind him and the lock turned as if they had minds of their own.

She wasn’t going to play her white-rabbit game with him this evening. He dropped her onto his bed. She bounced on the down-stuffed mattress. A surge of power filled him. She was in his bed and would stay there until he was done with her.

Thankfully, it didn’t look as if she planned on giving him any arguments. While he stripped off his shirt, she removed her heavy purple sweater and the black turtleneck she wore underneath.

She moved like a lazy cat as she stretched out on his bed. Her jeans hugged her hips like a second skin and her black lace bra, which covered very little, teased him. She wiggled her shoulders.

“I think I’ll leave the rest on,” she taunted, her honey-smooth voice deepening several degrees.

“You think so, do you?”

He jumped onto the bed and unhooked the front snap of her bra. With a tug on the straps, the black lace slipped easily away. Holding his breath, he reached out and cupped her tight breasts in the palms of his hands.

“Hmmm…I need a plan of action. Of course your jeans, though doing a lovely job of shaping your ass, will have to go.” He couldn’t decide what part of her he liked best. Usually, with a woman, he’d find a favorite part—like her breasts or her pussy. He ran a finger down her well-defined abs, enjoying the warm glow that followed in his wake.

“And—” He dipped his head and sucked vigorously on one breast and then the other. She arched her back and moaned as her nipples turned to hard nubs in his mouth. “—you’ll scream for me.”

She nodded eagerly. “Oh yes, I’ll scream.”

“Yesss…” she whispered as he flicked his tongue over her dark, swollen nipple. Her sable-black hair cascaded down her back.

He lifted her hips off the bed, peeled off her jeans and her silky black panties. Like a monk settling in for a long prayer, he went down on his knees between her legs and placed a gentle kiss on the soft skin of her inner thigh.

“There’s no way around it,” he said, knowing his voice and hot breath teased the dark curls guarding her pussy. Her breath grew quicker, shorter. “I’m going to have to take you with my mouth. I’ll suck on you and let my tongue do all sorts of delicious things, like swirl deep inside you.”

“Ohhh…” Her eyes rolled heavenward as she fell back on to the nest of pillows he’d made at her head.

He lifted his gaze. “I expect you’ll have at least a dozen orgasms. You will soon discover that even in the real world, I’m simply that good.”

She froze.

Instead of purring or squirming with pleasure, she froze so tightly she’d stopped breathing.

Dammit. What had he said? He traced back the last couple of things to have crossed his lips. He had mentioned how he wanted to take her in his mouth. She’d practically licked her lips at that. And then—he mentally slapped himself on the forehead—he’d said how he expected her to have a dozen or more orgasms before they were done.

What a boatload of pressure to perform he’d put on her with that carelessly worded vow.

“I mean…” He paused, uncertain of the right words to say in order to paint a picture of safety and promised bliss. “I will be doing all the work. All you have to do is enjoy yourself and the feel of me inside you.”

* * * * *

“I-I’ve never…” It cost her dearly to admit the truth.

He waited for her to finish. She couldn’t say
it
out loud, not and hold on to her dignity. Their gazes met. She tried to read his thoughts. Surely, she’d spotted disappointment flickering in his eyes.

Next, he’d hand her back her clothes. What man wanted to waste his time with a deficient lover?

He deserved a woman who could appreciate his many talents, not one who couldn’t…well…just,
couldn’t
enjoy him.

While his eyes remained filled with questions, his chin had tightened with determination. “You will tonight,” he promised.

She doubted that. What they’d done in her dream world was all well and good, but that couldn’t change her from freezing up when it came to performing for a man.
Any man.
Not even her dream lover could change that. But, she wasn’t going to argue. Over the years she had become very good at faking it.