Authors: Em Petrova
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Psychics, #Vampires, #Urban Fantasy
“Not that I know of.”
Magda didn’t even have an image of her mother for him to peruse in her thoughts. That the Free Wills had stolen that from her was inexcusable.
He placed a hand on her knee. The warmth of her skin permeated his hand and rocketed up his arm.
Monroe revved the engine with his mind, and without removing his free hand from Magda, he navigated another right turn.
“Will Nick be okay?”
“Yeah.” The professor was still frozen, his mind the last to know Monroe’s touch. The effects would wear off last.
“You don’t sound convincing.” Magda craned her neck to look out the window as if to see Nick.
“Trust me.”
“You know I need answers.”
“We all do.”
She studied him from beneath lowered lashes. “You seem to have more.”
He laughed out loud. The sound filled the vehicle, foreign to his ears. “More than whom?”
“Well, you can read thoughts. That must make you smarter than humans.”
“Maybe.”
I know you want me to slide my hand higher up your thigh.
She wiggled in her seat, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face. If Keefe were present, Monroe would never live these smiles down.
Ahead, a line of black stretched across the road. He squinted to better see what it was.
Son of a bitch. Free Wills.
A split second before he spoke, he realized he was weak, needed to feed. “Magda, how do I make you feel when I kiss you?”
A quiet sigh left her, and her eyes grew half-lidded as emotions oozed out.
“Fuck, baby. Hold on.” The SUV careened off course as the Free Will known as Treason grasped control of the vehicle and directed them into a parked car.
The grating of metal mingled with Magda’s shriek. She gripped the handle above the window and held on for her life. Monroe threw the vehicle in reverse and laid rubber to get away from the twelve Free Wills barring their way.
“What are we going to do?” she cried.
“Buckle your seat belt, baby. We’re making a break through that alley.” He pointed to the narrow passage that would help them escape the Free Wills.
Magda yanked the seat belt across herself. When Monroe heard the
click
, he jammed his boot into the gas and gave the engine hell.
Chapter Four
“Monroe.” Dread filled every inch of Magda’s being. “We’re never going to fit through that alley in this.”
He laughed, and some of her worry vanished. “Fuck, you’re delicious.”
The SUV hit the brick-paved alleyway at a considerable speed. On either side of them the buildings soared into the sky, trapping them. The SUV barely wedged itself in the space between. The space narrowed even farther, and the side mirror snapped off. Magda cried out as it flew into the air and was gone, crushed under a massive tire.
Monroe chuckled. “See how powerful you are against me now, Treason.”
“Treason?”
“That Free Will. He’s a leader of a particular group here in the city. He’s strong but…” He sent her a strange look.
“Not stronger than you.” A sense of awe spun through her at eighty miles an hour.
Monroe laughed again.
She was terrified to look away from the windshield, but desperate to see his expression. Ahead garbage cans loomed.
“Let’s hope there isn’t a homeless man by those cans,” she cried, locking a hand on the dash.
“There isn’t. I can’t hear anything.”
They hit the cans full force. She jerked flat against her seat as one flew up and rolled off the hood. Then they were on the other side. Monroe cut the SUV hard to the right, and they peeled out on the one-way street.
“You can hear all humans. Can feed from all but me?”
“Yes. I taste your thoughts but can’t make them come to me. But any emotion that seeps from you, I can consume.” Across the space, his gaze burned her. Intense green fire.
The dream tipped into her mind again, the pleasure of his hands moving up her thighs to the folds of her pussy—
“Stop,” he choked out. He briefly closed his eyes. “Your emotion, Magda. It’s so goddamn sweet, I fear I’ll drown.”
She couldn’t tear her gaze from the rugged beauty of his features. Golden fingers of sun teased the hair on his jaw—hair she knew too well from her dream would be rough on every inch of her flesh.
“Hell.” He slammed on the gas. They shot into traffic, fishtailing right along the three-lane street.
“You can gain power from me.”
“From your emotion, yes.” He gave a jerky nod, his chest working as if he’d outrun the Free Wills back there on foot. “It’s giving me much-needed power. That cerebral boom sucks all energy from me.”
But he’d done it twice to save her.
Desire filled his gaze. “I forgot what it’s like to be around humans like this—your emotions are all over the place.”
“I’m sorry.”
He laughed. “Why sorry? You’re fucking delicious, Magda.”
That heat in her belly plummeted south. Her pussy gave a hard squeeze, and juices seeped from the folds. Without warning, he snatched her hand up and dragged two fingers on her left hand beneath his nose.
With shock, she realized those were the two fingers she’d filled her pussy with last night. Of course she’d washed her hands several times since, but…
He opened his mouth and sucked her fingers in. A full-body shudder racked her. Dark need permeated her being, swift and more overwhelming than anything she’d ever known.
“I’m taking you to my place.” It wasn’t a question but a stark statement. The set of his jaw said she couldn’t argue even if she wanted.
They barreled through town to the west side. Some humans didn’t travel these streets that were known as Mindchanger stomping grounds. The buildings facing the street were a bit more run-down than in other parts of town, but still neat. The side streets, though, were filled with projects—lower-income housing known for crime.
“Don’t ever come here without me, Magda.”
She shook her head and rubbed her fingers together, still wet from Monroe’s mouth.
He drew up in front of a two-story building with a Victorian facade. The charming gingerbread details were painted a dark blue-gray while the rest of the structure was painted black. Over the door was a gray plaque that would swing lightly in the breeze if there was one.
“Zero-nine. What does it mean?”
He cut the engine and looked deep into her eyes. Her stomach flipped.
“It means me. The numbers of my makeup.”
He projected it into her mind so no Mindchangers in the vicinity heard. “Don’t get out yet. I’ll come get you.”
He jumped out and loped around the vehicle to her door. When he reached inside for her, she leaned into his arms, feeling weak as the adrenaline from the chase trickled out of her.
After gathering her against him, he led her two steps to the front door, which he opened with his mind. Inside the space he flicked on lights. A long fluorescent fixture hung over a glass counter. There a small engine was half torn apart, and black oily bits were strewn around it like a litter around a mother dog.
She drew a deep breath of the dusty air, catching the underlying scent of the man beside her. Suddenly stronger, she pulled away from his side. She felt his reluctance to let her go in the way his fingers trailed along her torso.
But she was attracted to something on the counter. Drifting across the space, she zeroed in on the tiny screwdriver lying abandoned on the glass. The small black handle would fit Monroe’s hand perfectly, the point an extension of his arm—his thoughts.
After picking it up, she tested it by rotating her hand back and forth a few times. Something in the recesses of her mind leaped—a glimpse of a memory? A hand on a tool like this.
A feminine hand.
When she turned to Monroe, he was staring at her with that intensity that made her burn again.
“Zero-nine, I need you,” she whispered.
Nostrils flaring, he issued a quick, shaky breath. He extended a hand to her. She dropped the screwdriver, and it rolled on the glass, creating a droning noise. She shook her head.
She was pulled toward Monroe like a puppet on a string. He commanded her mind without laying a single feeler on her. He gripped her wrists lightly.
Leather and man filled her nose. Tilting her head back, she stared up at him.
“I can’t really make you mine, because you won’t give me your thoughts.”
“I want to,” she whispered.
“I know.” He closed his eyes on the statement. When he opened them again, they glittered brighter, hotter.
“What would my thoughts taste like?”
A small quake went through him, moving into her where their bodies connected—knee to thigh, hip to belly. Her breasts pressed against his hard abs. Want spiked in her core.
His voice was gravel under a boot heel. “You’d taste like this.” He lifted her fingers to his mouth and snaked his tongue around the digits, flicking the soft web between until her pussy spasmed.
“And this.” He closed his eyes and seemed to swell again as he obviously devoured her emotion. Warmth trickled in the back of her brain while he ate.
“But better, at least to you,” she said.
“Hell, yes.” He ripped her off her feet and into his arms. In five strides, they were mounting a tight corkscrew staircase.
He paused for a moment at the door while the lock made a series of clicks that were music to her soul. No fear lay in her belly at the thought of being alone with a Mindchanger or giving herself to him in every way possible. From the start she’d known this man was for her—supernatural or not.
It took only seconds to open the door, but it felt like ten minutes past her desired time allowance. By the time he towed her into his stark, modern space, she was on fire.
He set her on her feet. Still holding her hand, he drew her into the main living area, twisting to look at her as he did. His light hair dipped over one smoldering eye, and she brushed it away without hesitation.
He froze. “Shit. I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t…I don’t have anything.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want anything.”
Only you.
A long breath spiraled from him. “Do you want to sit and talk?”
Images of them stretched on that fine leather sectional in ten different positions flitted through her head.
He groaned. “I can see you’re not going to make it easy for me to be a gentleman.”
Running a palm over his leather button-down shirt, she allowed some of her longing to bloom in her mind.
Just as she’d hoped, he caught it. “That I can do.”
He tugged her toward a shadowy nook. When she looked inside, she found a bedroom that was quite a bit homier than the rest of his apartment.
“The difference in materials has to do with numbers,” he said, leading her toward the bed. “Everything in the universe has a code that makes it what it is. I hear those codes, and I like simple things around me when I sleep.” He sat and positioned her so she was standing between his legs. The thick bulge in the front of his pants drew her attention, and he responded with a hiss.
“This is going to be hell,” he muttered.
“You mean being able to read me?” She swayed toward him. He wrapped his arms around her middle and dropped his forehead to the spot between her breasts. The pose was more intimate than any she’d ever experienced, and warmth blossomed in her chest.
“That’s what I want, Magda. Just your want and passion for me. Don’t be afraid.” His words spoken against her thin cotton dress fogged her skin beneath. A sliver of heat eased between her thighs.
Very slowly he lifted his head. She leaned down to meet him. The brushing of their mouths sent shivers through her. He pressed harder and slipped his tongue between her lips.
“Mmm.” Her moan sounded as a hum.
He gave an answering rumble. With one broad palm he cupped the back of her head, probing the hollow at the base of her skull with a finger. Her nipples pebbled, and he found one with his free hand and twisted gently.
Arching into his touch, she deepened the kiss. She chased his tongue; then he followed hers. The fire in her belly spread until her clit throbbed mercilessly. A dozen thoughts burst in her mind—of his hands on her thighs, parting her, and then Monroe plunging his tongue into her soaking folds.
He withdrew from the kiss and looked into her eyes until she felt as if he were making love to her mind. Every erogenous zone on her body was on full alert.
He toppled them into bed and rolled on top of her. The hardness of his muscles and the rigid length of his sex made her buck upward for more.
Now.
“Settle,” he whispered, dropping kisses along her throat, collarbones, the swells of her breasts. His stubble seared a path leading to heaven.
His smile spread over her skin as this idea surfaced in her mind. Was she never going to have a private thought again?
This time he laughed. “It’s hard to tune you out, baby. I’m sorry. On the other hand, I know what you really want.”
Her heart rate increased. “Like what?”
Gripping the hem of her dress, he eased it over her hips, up her torso, and finally pulled it off. Her hair fell around her face, and he stared down at her for an excruciating moment without looking at her nudity.
Cooler air struck her nipples, and she groaned. The bit of lace between her legs dampened.
“Fuck, I can smell how bad you want me.”
His words filtered into her mind like hot coals. She rocked up again, seeking his touch.
With a swift movement, he captured her nipple on his tongue. In the back of her mind, she worried that her breasts weren’t full enough.
“Stop.” He sucked her bud so hard that she arched off the bed.
With a
pop
, he released her and moved to the other. This nipple he teased longer, swirling his tongue around the outer edge and moving in concentric circles inward. Short, quick flicks to the tip only fueled the fires.
She dug her nails into his shoulders and guided him down. “Please.”
“Please what?”
The sting.
His shoulders stiffened under her fingers. Every inch of his body locked as if ready for battle. “What?”
“Bite into me. I need to feel the”—she faltered under his piercing gaze—“sting.”