The Wicked City (15 page)

“I know. Amazing, aren’t I?”

She crawled up his body and settled on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her and swiftly turned her over, so he was on top. He pushed his fingers into her. She emitted a loud “Uh!” of half surprise, half desperation.

“You okay?” he asked, close to her lips.

She trembled, curling and uncurling her fingers against his bicep. “Yes. Except I’m either going to scream or come if you keep that up.”

“Why not both?”

“You’re so cruel, teasing me.”

“I’ll stop teasing you, then. Are you ready?”

“So ready.” She gripped his arm. “Shit. Fuck. You don’t happen to have any condoms, do you?”

“There’s some in the bathroom.”

“Really?”

“It’s a fancy hotel. They have complimentary everything.”

She tried to focus on his face in the dark. “How do you know they’re in there?”

“I might have been looking.”

He slid his fingers out of her. She wanted them back.

“I’ll go grab one,” she said. She wiggled out from under him and got off the bed. “You better be ready for action when I get back.”

“No problem there.”

In the bathroom, squinting in the light and obscenely naked in the mirror, June rummaged through the box of complimentary toiletries on the sink. She found a condom and headed back to the bed. She wasn’t on any sort of birth control, but even if she were, she didn’t know what nasty secrets Micha might be hiding. He might not even know.

She crawled onto the bed and handed him the condom.

“You’re really, really sure about this?” she asked. “I mean, I’m horny as hell right now, but the shower head is detachable.”

He opened the packet and worked the condom on. He flicked the package aside. “I’m really, really sure about this. And the shower head won’t do anything for me.”

She crawled on top of him, as he lay back. “I’m going to hell.”

“Right there with you.” He gripped her hips. “We’ll buy condoms for next time.”

“Next time?”

She gasped as his cock slid into her, one smooth stroke, no slow penetration. She groaned at the intrusion, her favorite part of sex. He filled her completely, stretched her in a way that was agonizingly good. Nothing better than getting the cock after waiting so long.

“Fuck,” she breathed out.

He slid his hands onto her breasts and squeezed. “Goddamn. That’s so tight.”

“And that’s so thick.”

She reached above him and splayed her palms flat against the headboard for leverage, and rode him. He jerked his hips, driving up into her, and moved his hands to her thighs while she bounced on him.

His grunts and gasps escalated into full-bodied moans, mingling with the sound of the headboard thumping against the wall and the bedsprings squeaking. She loved how he sounded. Their flesh slapped lewdly, the lovely cacophony of consummation.

“I wanted to fuck you the first day I met you,” she said.

“Did you?”

“Yes.” She adjusted her hips so he would hit—
yes
. “I wanted you so bad. Even though I knew it was wrong.”

“Sometimes it’s good to be bad. I jerked off yesterday in Cindy’s bathroom, thinking about you.”

“Oh, God.”

He grabbed her around the waist and, never slipping out of her, flipped her onto her back. She locked her legs around his waist, delirious, gazing toward the window. The snow swirled, glittering in the darkness beyond the glass.

He pounded into her, so good and hard she was soon screaming the walls down. He had his hand between them, working her, playing with the ring, but even without that she would get off. She was near the edge, tense and ready to tumble over. She stiffened and clutched at him.

“Micha,” she choked out.

He pushed deep into her, pressing his lips against her ear through her sweaty hair.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “That’s it. Come for me.”

She didn't need to be told twice. She shuddered through a hard, intense orgasm, bucking against him, clawing at his back. Through her delirious haze of pleasure, his sounds in her ear changed, growing more desperate, and he quaked as well. A moment later, he was coming inside her.

“Damn.” She nearly purred. “Oh, yes.” She raked her nails lightly up and down his sweaty, shivering back.

Neither of them moved for a few minutes. He was twitching inside her and she clenched around him, little tremors still shaking her thighs. Her head spun.

“Fuck,” she finally gasped and slumped beneath him.

Micha groaned in response, still pulsing faintly inside her. She shivered.

Quiet fell in the wake of the explosion. Her body was buzzing and slick with sweat. Micha lay on top of her for a few more minutes. Finally, he reached down, gripped the base of the condom, and slid out. He rolled off her.

The cool air was blissful against her hot skin.

“You all right?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He rolled toward her. “I’m great, actually.”

He caressed a hand over her sweaty, heaving chest. She wanted to cuddle up to him and enjoy the afterglow, despite everything her rational mind told her about getting attached. She gave the room a quick sweep, still paranoid they were being watched. She kept the guilt tucked firmly away in the back of her head so she could enjoy the low thrumming in her limbs for a few minutes.

“That was good,” he said. “Even better than I fantasized about.” He rested his hand on her stomach. “Are
you
all right?”

“Yeah. For the first time today, I think I am. But I really need a cigarette.”

He patted her stomach and chuckled. “I don’t even smoke, and I need one.”

Morning light warmed June’s eyelids; she opened them and winced. When she’d gone to sleep, the world beyond the windows had been black and glittering with snow. Now the sky was white, sudden and bright like a nuclear flash. She stirred and became aware of her surroundings—the scent of another person, the heat of a body pressed against her side, silken hair on her shoulder—and her stomach sank. She looked down at the top of Micha’s head.

“Shit,” she muttered. She’d kind of hoped the whole thing had been a wet dream, so she wouldn’t need to deal with the eventual fallout.

Micha stirred and lifted his head, his eyes unfocused. “Hey,” he grunted.

At some point, they had both put their shirts and underwear back on.

“Damn.” June rolled her head on the pillow. “This bed smells like my mouth tastes.”

Micha rolled away. “What time is it? Eight twelve,” he answered his own question. He flopped back on the pillows. “I don’t feel so good.”

“You can’t tell you’re pregnant that fast,” she teased. She sat up and discovered immediately she hurt everywhere. Apparently, twenty-nine was too old for sex. Or she’d gotten rusty.

“It’s weird.” Micha sounded still half-asleep. “I’m just kind of achy. I swear I’m coming down with something. I don’t feel right.”

“Could just be this insanely cold weather you guys have here.”

June rolled out of bed and hobbled to the bathroom. She needed a shower. She needed a smoke. While she peed, and after, washing her hands and splashing water on her face, concerns the previous night’s distraction had kept at bay crept back into her head. Jason’s face swam before her, and a sick guilt gurgled in the pit of her stomach.

She returned to the bedroom, found her jeans, pulled them on, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Micha rested a hand on her lower back. He started rubbing in slow circles. She sat hunched, staring at the floor.

“I can order up some breakfast,” he said. “If you’re hungry. I’m not, myself.”

June didn’t respond. After a moment, Micha stopped rubbing. His hand fell away.

“You regret last night?” he asked.

June lifted her head. “No.” She reached over and picked up her cigarettes from the nightstand. “Well, I mean, I do for the obvious reasons. When your memory comes back, you’ll regret it too, trust me. I’m more angry at myself.” She got to her feet.

“Why?”

She shook a cigarette out, popped the filter into her mouth, and tossed the pack on the stand. “Here I am, getting laid and ordering room service while my brother’s a prisoner. Who knows what they’ve done to him.” She snatched up her lighter. “And I’m having the time of my life.”

Micha sat up. “It’s not like while you’re not getting laid and ordering room service, you’re sitting around doing nothing. Sam will get him out of there.”

June grabbed her jacket and went out on the balcony. The floor of the balcony was covered with snow. The world below had turned white, the streets cutting through the frosted landscape in narrow black stripes. The air was bitter cold. She shivered as she smoked, cursing her habit. When she finished, she went back inside and found Micha dressed, hair tousled and still looking groggy.

“I’ll order some food,” he said.

June gathered up things so she could take a shower. She’d stay in her jeans, because she was too small to wear Micha’s pants, but she had another borrowed shirt from him, a dark green long-sleeve crew neck that would still be too big on her.

“You can use my shampoo if you want,” he said. “Instead of the hotel stuff.”

“Thanks.”

“You really don’t regret last night? I mean, other than for the obvious reasons?”

She toed the carpet. “No. It was nice. I just feel bad, you know? ’Cause of Jason.”

“I’m sorry if it was an inappropriate time for it to happen.”

“Yeah, well. You’re right. What’s the alternative, lying in bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for a miracle to fall from it?”

Micha smiled faintly. “Thanks for turning my fantasy into reality.”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “Likewise. My vagina doesn’t regret it at all, trust me. Except for being a little sore.”

She took some time in the shower, not because she felt dirty. She needed to be alone. The dull ache between her legs kept drawing her attention back to the previous night’s events and away from other things she tried to focus on. She’d picked a terrible time to let lust get the better of her.

As soon as she turned off the water, a knock sounded at the door.

“What?” Panic struck. She slid the shower door open and reached for a towel. Steam filled the room, blanking out the mirror. “Micha?”

“Guess again.” Not Micha’s voice.

The door opened, a blast of cooler air rushing in and parting the steam. Sam. He grinned lewdly. Luckily, she already had the towel wrapped around herself.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Jesus, did I say come in? You never learned any basic manners?”

“I don’t believe you’re one to stand on propriety.” He looked her over. “Washing off your sin?”

She glowered at him.

“I have news.”

“Can it wait five minutes while I dry off and put some clothes on?”

“If you insist.” Sam leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. He looked fresh and even stunning in tight jeans and a snug black sweater.

“Without you in here.” She stepped out of the shower and onto the bathmat.

“I spoke to Ethan Roberts this morning.” Sam didn't move. “He wants to meet us at two o’clock.”

June gaped at him. A spark of hope ignited in her chest, and she forgot she had nothing but a towel on. “That’s good, right?”

“According to the Oracle it is. I didn’t tell him I was bringing you. I thought I’d let him be surprised.” Sam’s gaze lingered on her. Given the good news he’d brought, she was almost tempted to open her towel and give him a free look.

“So you think he can help us?” June asked.

“I don’t know.” He moved away from the doorframe. “We’ll take Micha to Robbie’s before we meet with him. I don’t want to leave him here alone. I want Muse with me.”

“I thought this place was safe.”

“It is, when Muse is here. I like to double and even triple my defenses when I can. In this city, paranoia is your best friend, and Robbie is so goddamn paranoid they’d never get inside his house. I might have to bring him over to my place at some point and let him overhaul my security system.”

He looked her over again, winked, and left the doorway.

“Creep,” she called after him.

Muse sat in the outer room, slumped on one of the sofas, legs drawn up and arms around her knees. Her face kept twitching, the corners of her mouth jerking, little fluttering tics around her eyes.

June ate some of the breakfast Micha had ordered while Micha sipped tea. He was pale and listless, and for the first time, she started to worry. True, her power had never made anyone sick, but then, she had never done to anyone what she had done to Micha.

They left within the hour. Sam drove. They slid through the bustle of downtown, past the businesses and towers and into the narrower streets of tight-packed residential areas. Snow was piled at the edges of the sidewalks and clung thickly to tree branches and rooftops. June caught glimpses of the lake, deep gray under a pale gray sky.

Micha sat with June in the backseat and dozed off during the ride, head reclined against the door. She kept glancing over at him, thoughts bouncing between worry, guilt, and how good he’d felt inside her. She vividly recalled the weight of his body, the taste of his sweat. Every time these dirty thoughts entered her head, she tried to squelch them, lest Muse hear as well.

“Does he live in the city?” June asked, trying to distract herself.

“Yes,” Sam said. “I’ve only been there once, though, when he first joined the Paranormal Alliance.” He addressed Muse, “This is the way, right?”

She nodded. She had her phone out and the GPS on. So much for magic.

Eventually, they ended up in a nondescript middle-class neighborhood full of little houses clustered close together, all droll and neat and nearly identical. Sam pulled into the driveway of a one-story with white siding and black-trimmed windows. Two cars were parked in the driveway, one of which was Cindy’s.

“Doesn’t look like a fortress,” June remarked.

“The best defenses are hidden,” Sam said.

Sam texted Robbie to let him know they’d arrived, citing in ominous fashion they might be injured if they tried to walk in unannounced. June woke Micha, and they both got out of the car. She walked around to his side, eyeing him as he stood with his hands shoved in his coat pockets, droopy-eyed, wobbling. She slid an arm around him to steady him, her concern deepening.