Chapter 9

9

T ristan

The front door swings open and Rhi comes marching through, stamping her feet and blowing on her fingers.

“Jeez, it’s so cold out there,” she says, walking straight past me in the direction of the warm kitchen.

Renzo Barone follows right after her, whistling under his breath and swinging his arms. And after him comes my friend, completely naked and shivering violently. He slams the door behind him and we’re quiet until the assassin disappears into the kitchen.

“What the hell happened to you?” I ask. “Did he steal your clothes?”

“No,” he says, looking so pissed off I doubt whether that’s the truth. “I went for a run.”

“Without clothes? Without shoes?”

“I had to let the beast out. It was getting unbearable.” He glares at me, his brow furrowed.

“What did I do?” I ask, pointing to my chest.

“Just get it over and done with, will you?”

“Get what over and done with?”

“The lecture about how stupid I am, how dangerous it is to let the beast anywhere near Rhianna.”

Now it’s my time to frown. “You said he wasn’t a danger to her.”

“Yeah, but none of you seem to agree with that.”

“If you say he’s not a danger, I believe you. Anyway,” I say, glancing at the kitchen door, “she looked perfectly fine. You’re the one who looks worse for wear.”

“I’m going to light a fire,” he says, stomping into one of the empty rooms that leads off the hallway, this one looking like some sort of parlor. He walks straight up to the fireplace, swiping a blanket that covers one of the old-fashioned couches as he passes and wrapping it around his shoulders. The grill is stacked with old rotten logs and he flings his magic at them. Immediately, flames leap up into the air, and he holds out his hands, groaning in relief.

“I’m so fucking cold I thought my balls were going to freeze solid and snap off.”

“Talking of blue balls …” I say, coming to stand next to him and digging my hands into my pockets, searching for an old joint and coming up empty. “Have you … you know … with Rhianna?”

“She’s pretty angry with me,” he says, bending and flexing his stiff fingers.

“I’m not sure that’s stopped you in the past. A hate-fuck can be pretty damn hot.”

“This is different. She’s different. And you know it.”

“Yeah,” I admit. I guess I do. I lay my hand on his shoulder. I know it’s bullshit, but I can’t help it, I’m feeling pretty smug that I’ve fucked her and he hasn’t. I also feel a little sorry for the dude. It must suck knowing everyone else is getting a piece of the girl and he isn’t. “She’ll come around, pal. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Yeah, she’s already beginning to. In fact, if freaking Barone hadn’t interrupted us …”

I snatch my hand away. All my sympathy vanishing in an instant.

I’ve had Piglet once. Just once. And though it was fucking mind blowing, it was also rushed, quick, and not nearly enough. I want more of her. A lot more.

I’ve decided I’m going in search of her to get me some more, turning my back on my friend, when Spencer says, “What do you think about that memory? Do you believe it, Tris?”

I stare down at the faded rug beneath my feet and watch as a woodlouse struggle across the thick threads.

“I think …” My shoulders tighten. “I think my dad won’t rest until he has her in his grasp, until he has all of us. There are already rumors swirling about Rhi and he spent a lot of his time trying to get the truth from me. It won’t matter if we sail across the ocean, or rocket off to some distant planet; if he sees her as a threat, he’s going to come for us. Which means, it’s down to one thing and one thing only: us or him. And frankly, I’d much rather it was us.”

“You think we should make the initial strike?”

I stroke my chin. It was always our preferred gameplay when we dueled as a team. Get in that early strike, take them by surprise, weaken them right from the start. Could it work in this situation?

“We’re vastly outnumbered. But I can’t help the feeling that fate has thrown us together for a reason and I’m beginning to suspect that reason is to protect Rhi. ”

Spencer lowers his voice. “You really think we could work with those others?” His face distorts with disgust. “With Barone?”

“He helped to rescue us, Spencer. They worked together to do that.”

“Yeah, but their stupid fucking plan nearly blew up in their faces.”

“Mine to rescue you didn’t fare much better, did it?”

Spencer stares at me, then tips his head back and laughs. And relief floods through my body. I’ve been worried about him, worried the stay in that damn awful cell had broken him somehow. At times he’s always been a grumpy asshole, but mostly he isn’t. Most of the time he’s upbeat, fun to be around. I haven’t seen much of that side of him over the last 24 hours. But hearing him laugh, that deep bellyful Spencer laugh, is a relief. He’s going to be okay.

“It was fucking cocky as hell,” Spencer chuckles.

I scrub my hand through the locks of my hair sheepishly. “Yeah, it was. And I’m …” I meet his eyes, “I’m sorry about what happened to your friend.”

He nods his head. “I wonder how many of my kind will be left by the time your dad is through.”

“Which is why I’m sure that premonition Rhi’s mom saw is correct. My dad is a sadistic, power-hungry bastard. He’ll want Rhianna’s powers. We have to stop him.”

I leave Spencer warming up by the fire and go in search of Rhianna. I find her up in the main bedroom, curled up on the window seat with her friend and her pig. They’re whispering and giggling together but it all stops when I enter .

“Were you talking about me?” I ask, leaning against one of the posts of the bed.

“We were talking about girl’s stuff,” Winnie says, “things that are none of your business.”

I eye them both. Why do I suspect Rhi was giving her friend a lowdown about what happened between the two of us right after she drained the drugs from my body?

Thinking about what happened between us has me wanting to walk her friend out of the room so I can throw Piglet down on the bed.

My eyes lock with Rhi’s and my bond pulsates in my stomach. The bond is new and it wants us together.

“Okay guys, I get the hint,” Winnie says, ducking her head down and collecting the pig up into her arms. “I’m leaving, okay.”

“Wh-what?” Rhi says, struggling to drag her eyes away from me. “You don’t have to go.”

“Pip and I are clearly in the way here.” The pig squeaks in protest. “They want to tear each other’s clothes off, Pip, and we are in the way.” Winnie scuttles away towards the door and Rhi makes a lunge for her, missing. In the doorway, her friend waves at us.

“Have fun.” And then she shuts the door.

“Is she always so blunt?” I ask, swinging my gaze back around toward Rhianna and finding her charging towards me.

At first I fling my hands up to protect myself, assuming I must have done something wrong and am going to meet her wrath. But instead of pelting me with angry magic, she pushes me hard against my chest. It takes me by surprise and I fall back onto the mattress, the girl crawling on top of me immediately and straddling my lap.

I still don’t know what the hell is going on, but when she reaches for the hem of her sweater and pulls it over her head along with her top, I get a fair idea.

“Fuck,” I mutter looking up at her perched on top of me in only her bra and her pants. “Going to take that off for me too, little Piglet?”

“You have to stop calling me that.”

“Not a chance.”

“Then, no, I won’t,” she says, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout.

I take a tight hold of her waist and flip her over onto her back, caging my body over hers.

“Then I’ll just have to do it myself.” I smirk at her and then I take the lacy material of the bra cup between my teeth, about to tug it down. Then I stop, spitting the thing out.

“Where the hell did you get underwear like this?” The bra is made from a combination of silk and lace. Real silk and real lace. Expensive and damn sexy.

“Azlan.”

“Remind me to thank him,” I mutter, before I take the material back between my teeth and yank it down, exposing her stiff pink nipple. “Hello there,” I say, making her giggle, “nice to meet you.” I pinch the nipple between my teeth making her squeak and her back arch so that she pushes her tit up into my mouth.

I moan, licking my tongue around the velvety skin and then sucking on it. This time she squirms beneath me, grinding her core against my hardening cock.

I yank away the other cup of her bra, rubbing the pad of my thumb over her left nipple as I continue to kiss the right, and she scrabbles at my shirt.

“This needs to come off,” she says. I peer up at her and she grins at me. Then her magic sparks in the air and my shirt is gone, her hands gliding down my chest and taking a hold of my belt buckle.

She’s needy and she wants this. But it was too fast before. I want this to last.

“Slow down, Piglet,” I tell her.

She makes a little whimper in her throat that tells me she doesn’t like that idea.

I push up onto my hands and peer down at her.

“Wh-wh-what are you doing?” she says, attempting to hook her hands around my neck and drag me back down towards her.

“Taking my fucking time with you.” I peer into her eyes and then I let my gaze meander over her face, down her throat, lingering at her breasts and down her flat belly. A flush sweeps across her body, trailing after my gaze.

“So fucking beautiful.”

She squirms again. This girl can’t take a compliment. And I have a feeling I’m partly to blame for that.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you. I’d just really like you to stop looking and start … you know.”

I lift an eyebrow. “No, I don’t. You want me to start …?” She frowns at me. And I wrestle my face into a deadly serious expression. “What do you want me to do, Piglet?”

She raises up onto her elbows. “I want you to stop calling me that.”

I nod slowly. “I’ll give that some thought.” I go to move off the bed.

“Wait!” she cries, and makes a grab for me, her elbows flying from under her, so she lands flat on her back, with me on top of her, pinning her down with my weight.

“Was there something else?”

“Are you going to make me beg? Is that what this is? I suppose the great Tristan Kennedy is used to having girls beg him to fuck them?”

“Ahhh so that’s what you want, huh?” I say, nipping at her earlobe. “You want me to fuck you.” I grind my hips into her and she moans. “You don’t have to beg. You just have to ask.”

I lift my head so my face is hovering directly above hers, so I can see all the golden shades of her eyes.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Are you trying to seduce me into bed?” She glares at me and I grind into her again, making her bottom lip quiver. “Is it so hard to say it, Rhianna?” I say, earnestly, my ego punctured. “So hard to admit you want me?”

“Yes,” she says, just as earnestly, scraping her fingernails against my scalp. “I’m scared that I’m a fool for sleeping with you – for wanting you – after everything you did to me.”

I nod. She still doesn’t trust me. I still have to make it up to her. And I’m going to start right now.

I kiss her mouth. Then her throat, then her right breast and her left, sliding down her body, kissing her belly button, then lower, shimmying her pants and her underwear down her legs as I kiss the soft curls between her thighs and then her pussy lips.

“I thought we’d agreed you were going to fuck me,” she says, rising up on her elbows again, to peer down at me.

“We did, did we?” I say, smirking and then I part her legs open, gazing down at her, all bare and exposed, all pink and wet, and bury my face right into her pussy.