Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Lucas

"You need to tell her," Kyle hissed the minute Imogen walked into the cool room carrying uneaten food in one hand. "She needs to know before you ‘show her your comic books.'"

"I thought we were going to talk to her about this?" I replied, dragging out the dishwasher rack and then stacking the plates.

"She doesn't want to hang out with us." Asher was trying to keep it all under wraps, but I saw it, the way he eyed the cool room door with not a little longing. "She wants to hang out with you."

"And after I organised that really awesome finger painting session too." Kyle looked thoughtful before shrugging. "But apparently digital forensics are a turn on for her. Are you going to play white hat hacker and maiden in distress? Pretend that she's been hacked by some shitty cartel and all her nudes are about to be leaked if you don't step in?"

"There's something seriously wrong with you," I whispered in a hoarse voice. "You're talking about…"

Something I'd spent my life preparing to do, but really, in the back of my mind, I never saw myself being the one who took point on this. Kyle wouldn't shut up ever, so I assumed he'd spill the beans, or Asher?—

"Being honest with our mate," he said, staring me down with those freaky eyes that seemed to see right into your soul. "Set the tone for our relationship going forward." He swallowed hard. "Give her the choice between…"

He didn't get to finish that sentence because Imogen walked back out.

"Are you guys washing the dishes or having another one of your meetings?" she asked, cocking her hip.

"You guys should go." Asher looked at me then her. "Kyle and I have got this."

And I had a far more important job to do than wash dishes. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but failed.

"My comic book collection awaits," I said, offering her my hand. Not sure if she caught it, but the slight tremor had my forearm tensing, so I barely felt it when her hand landed on it.

"Take me to see Batman and Robin," she said, her touch feeling like it seared my skin. "Do you read them?"

"Them and so, so many more," I replied, leading her out of the kitchen.

We'd talked about this. Asher had even made a five point plan, but I couldn't have told you any detail of that if you put a gun to my head. Thoughts couldn't exist in the same space as Imogen. I was just walking, not sure where, staring down at her as her arm was tucked through mine.

"We're not going back to the server room are we?" she asked, that frown making my fingers twitch with the need to smooth it away.

"What? God no. My room is just past that, though."

I'd never walked a girl home. I'd never stood beside her door, hovering, not sure if I should dart in and claim a kiss, like guys seemed to do in movies. I'd never dated, spent more than a few minutes talking to a girl aside from Ursula or the women that worked at HQ, so I had little experience now. We came to my door and she stood by my side, looking up expectantly and I reached for my keycard, right as her lips parted. A small smile, teasing and light and so fucking perfect, stopped me midway. The card fell from between limp fingers and my brain stopped ruminating as instinct took over.

Kiss her, that's what my heart beat the moment I saw her this evening, and what was a low tide became a rushing tsunami. I was helpless to do anything other than skim my fingers along her jawline, catch the sound of her breath sucked in, right before my lips landed on hers. I knew her mouth now. Only a few kisses, but I knew how our lips fit together. The cadence of our kisses, the pace, the way we gave ground only to take from the other, over and over until my grip tightened. I was pressing her against the wall, the kisses no longer enough. I needed her body against mine, just like before. No, better. Naked, hot, wet, soft, right before I?—

"We better take this inside."

Those hoarsely whispered words broke through the haze in my head, but rather than look alarmed, Imogen's grin helped ease something inside me. She wanted this, that was clear from her scent, but more than that. She asked for the one thing I wanted more than anything.

"You sure?" I asked.

"Are you?" Her smile faded and she stared into my eyes. "You said you'd never… If you wanted to wait…. If there's someone else?"

"There's no one else in the world I want more than you."

I said that with complete sincerity, and that smile reappeared. My brain filed that away, wanting to make Imogen smile like that always. I retrieved the keycard hastily, then opened my bedroom door before tugging her inside.

Everything Asher had said, all we'd agreed to, was smart and well thought out. We'd addressed the issue of telling Imogen what we really were rationally, thinking of smart ways we could broach the subject, but when she pushed me against the wall, all good sense left me. It couldn't coexist with this. The feel of her. The way her lips felt, her body. Her fingers linking with mine, holding on tight, as if this was rocking her world, just like it was mine. Instead, I was helpless to do anything but hang on.

To her, to her jaw, my thumb brushing across her cheeks as I delved deeper into her mouth. Everything in me needed in her, it felt, but when we were forced to pull apart and suck in a breath, her hand was freed, sliding up my stomach. Two of her fingers traced the shape of one of my buttons.

"How far would we have gone if Kyle hadn't walked in?" she asked, but she robbed me of the ability to answer as she popped a button. The feel of her fingertip grazing my stomach was startlingly intimate. It was the first time anyone had ever touched me with desire, and that had my entire focus. "What would we have done?" Another button popped, then another, then she slid her hand in. Her eyes burned into mine, lit by some unearthly light, like she was the one that was the shifter, not me. "Would we?—"

"Everything." My hand covered hers and I gave it a squeeze. "Everything and anything you would've wanted. Imogen…"

This was the perfect moment, to tell her the truth so she knew just how ready I was for this, but she'd picked the weakest link. I couldn't formulate the words, not while she was touching me, definitely not when a greedy smile spread across her face. Not even when she undid every single one of my buttons and then smoothed my shirt back.

"So I didn't dream this." I loved the reverent tone she used as her fingertips slid across my chest. I may or may not have tensed my abs slightly. "You really are this fucking hot." Her eyes darted upwards. "How is it no one else has claimed you for themselves?"

She was handing me the opportunity on a silver platter, but some shitty, selfish part of me didn't want to see it. It felt like she was here, right here, living, breathing, but I didn't want to smell the twist in her scent, turning from honey sweet with need to sour with fear and anger.

"Maybe I've been waiting for you." I tilted her chin up so she had to meet my gaze, because at least she'd have this truth. "Maybe I've been waiting my whole life for just this moment."

She snorted at that, thinking I was being cheesy, but I wasn't and that was the problem. I had been waiting for so long to find her, and now that she was in my room, I failed. To sit her down on my bed and explain things before going any further. I knew I should, that this was an act of abuse in itself, letting things go so far without her consent, but… She touched me like I was hers, and right now that felt like enough.

I pulled her close, cradling her in my arms, though careful not to crush her injured hand, just stroking her hair over and over, but that would never be enough. She shifted in my grip, hands exploring, mouth kissing, until I was forced to return the favour. Stripping her shirt off was far more difficult, the sling having to be removed carefully, but when mine fell to the floor as I stepped closer, my hands rose. While tall for a woman, she was a tiny thing to me, delicate as a bird and twice as precious. I stroked one finger down the line of her neck, marvelling at the bones of her clavicle before going lower.

Her lips parted as I traced the slope of her breast, and I had her entire focus as my finger made its lazy progress downwards. Skin prickled with goosebumps and I watched in fascination as her nipples pulled tight, forming an enticing little bead. I tested its resilience, tracing its shape, then grasping it between my forefinger and thumb, her mouth falling further open in a pant.

"You like that?"

I moved, little rhythmic tugs that seemed to rob her of the ability to respond until finally she forced the words out.

"Before this, with…" She swallowed, her brow creasing. "No, but now?" I tested her, tugging just a little harder. "I can feel that in my clit."

Because she wanted me. Because I was one of the three men perfect for her. Because I'd do anything to make her happy, which is why my other hand rose. First to claim her breast, my palm covering it, my fingers sinking into the softness, right before I went to work on the other nipple, and she lunged forward. No longer a cool exploration of her body, her hungry kisses turned this into something hot and out of control. I was dimly aware of the sound of my zipper getting eased down right before my whole world was transformed. She pulled my cock out of my pants, and my breath sucked in as her fingers seared my entire length. I barely repressed the need to thrust into her palm as we both looked down.

"Holy shit, you really are that big."

That was both the most perfect thing to say and completely ridiculous at the same time. We each let out a little snort, easing some of the tension, though not for long. Imogen seemed as intent on exploring my physiology as I was hers. Long, careful fingers traced the entire shape of my shaft, following the veins up until she got to the foreskin. It slipped back and forth, precum oozing freely, her strokes getting faster and faster until I was forced to push her away.

"And ready to blow," I groaned. "This isn't about me. It's about you."

"It's about us," she assured me, pulling free of my grip as her spare hand slapped down on my hip. I made a sound of protest as she dropped to her knees, but it was her look upwards that stopped me from saying another thing. "I'm not sure of how much I'm going to be able to swallow of this, but…" Her wild grin was everything. "I'm willing to find out."

What could I do but cup the back of her head with reverence as she licked a stripe up the length of my dick?