Roger. That. And then hopefully they could go back to other things...
It was the work of a moment to grab the little bottle. The cap was already off, and as she poured the shampoo into her palm, the stuff was honey-thick and golden yellow in color.
Matthias's eyes stuck to her breasts as she reached up to the crown of her head. Sure enough, the back-and-forth motion was carried to what he was so captivated by, and she knew she was getting to him by the way he stroked her leg from ankle to thigh, going a little higher with every pass.
Until he was where she wanted him to be.
As his slick fingers touched her sex again, she jerked in pleasure--and that was good timing for the rinse part. With the water carrying the shampoo out of her hair, he teased and probed, the friction taking her to the brink.
"I want to see you come," he ordered.
No problem. The sound of his voice coupled with the way he penetrated her was more than enough to pitch her headlong into a massive orgasm, her palm slapping against the wet tile as the tension snapped in her core and the sensation rippled throughout her body.
Something came out of her mouth...his name, yes, that was it--and she said it twice.
The water was shut off as she was recovering, and a towel wrapped around her.
"You clean enough for your standards?" he said as he lifted her out.
She was pretty sure her reply was "yes"--it was certainly the word in her mind. God only knew what she spoke--
With a surge of demand, Matthias pressed his mouth to hers and licked his way inside as he rubbed her with the soft terry cloth. And then he was carrying her back to the bed.
As he laid her out, she thought he was going to kiss her again, and closed her eyes while lifting her chin.
He did kiss her. Just not on the mouth.
He went right to the center of her, parting her thighs wide, latching onto her sex, sucking her in. The sensation of wet on wet sent her over the edge again, her body racked with an orgasm that was only part release.
The other half was just another crap load of want.
Down at the boathouse on the river's edge, Devina could feel the heat rolling off the angel who was facing off in front of her--and goodness, gracious sakes a-fuckin'-live, that burn wasn't just anger.
He wanted her.
And even better than that, he hated himself for it: He utterly despised the arousal that was making a circus tent out of the front of those God-awful sweatpants he was wearing.
The combination was better than absinthe and oysters, an aphrodisiac that nearly made a demon forget that he'd double-crossed her in the last round.
Not quite, though. She could still hear him saying those words.
I lied.
And what do you know, on her side as well, fury slammed headfirst into love, the two extremes magnifying each other.
Jim's voice came out in an incredible growl, the tone low and mean, rippling with the power in his body. "I want you to cut the shit, Devina."
"What exactly are you referring to, Jim." She let the purr loose in her voice, because it was there--and it would piss him off.
The fact that she was getting turned on too was going to be another slap in the balls to him.
God, who knew they'd have a date tonight of all nights? She'd have spent more time on her hair.
"I want you to leave that reporter alone."
"Which reporter? Brian Williams? Diane Sawyer? Or someone in print, perhaps?"
Jim's hand flashed out and grabbed a hunk of her hair, yanking it so hard she nearly came then and there.
Leaning in, he looked like he was going to bite her. "Funny, I didn't think your methods were working for you."
"That first win with Matthias is still mine," she spat, her head cranked to the side.
"No soul to keep, though, huh."
"A small price to pay to win the war."
"That where you think you're headed?" He closed in, bending her even harder. "'Cuz it's not how I see things going."
They were both straining, their faces together, their bodies curled in tight. And all around them it was quiet--not just because it was dark outside. He had a spell in place--even in his anger and his preoccupying hatred, he still had enough left over to make sure that pesky humans didn't interrupt them.
It was positively romantic.
And on that note, she ripped herself out of his hold, leaving him with a handful of brunette strands.
Okay, that stung. Which was kind of fun.
"You want me," she said, passing a hand over the bald spot and regrowing more of those perfect waves.
"To die. Yeah, I do."
"Number one, I'm immortal. And number two, let me teach you a little lesson, Jim--"
"I don't need shit from you."
She smiled and stared pointedly at his sex--which had made a tent out of the most dreadful pair of sweatpants she'd ever seen. "I'm not sure about that. And I'd listen closely to this, if I were you--you are a new player in town. Me and the Maker? We go back further than that proverbial twinkle in your father's eye. He created me, Jim. I am as beloved to Him as your boss, Nigel. I am the balance--without me, there is no Heaven, no goodness, no peaceable hearts-and-flowers bullshit, because when it comes to free will, contrast is required if the gifts are to be relished. I am His idea."
The angel crossed his arms over his chest. "Then why is the game predicated on your destruction?"
"More like it's predicated on Nigel's." She looked him up and down, measuring his body, that big, muscular body that she'd had in so many different ways, both willing...and not. "You know, I chose you, too--it wasn't just your 'boss.' In the beginning of all this, I agreed with Nigel that you'd be the one on the field. You were part evil and part good, as equal as we could find." Devina walked back over to him. "So if you have a problem with the way things are being handled with any ancillaries like that reporter, it's your fucking fault."
"Mine?"
She put her fingertip on his chest. "You were supposed to be half-and-half, good and evil--except I gotta say, you've disappointed me and under-represented my side. Therefore, you've left me no choice but to act in precisely the way I was designed to conduct business--"
When his hand shot out again, she locked a deadly grip on his wrist. "You touch my hair once more and I'm going to fuck you up...instead of fuck you good."
"I don't want you--you make me sick."
Her hand zipped right down to his cock and gave it a squeeze. "Really."
Jim broke it off this time, slapping her away, stepping back. Abruptly his voice became level, but that was a lie. "The blondes aren't working on me, Devina. You're wasting your time with them."
"Am I? Or is that just what you want me to believe." She came forward, bringing them back together, reuniting their bodies. "I think it's the latter."
"It's not getting to me, demon." He lowered his lips back within range. "And it's your funeral if you push the rules too far--or do you think having another go at one of the souls is the worst thing your Maker can do to you? I'm thinking it isn't." Jim leaned himself even closer to her, until their mouths were nearly touching. "I'm thinking He can do so much worse."
Just to piss him off, she bit him on the lip, the blood tasting good.
He didn't even hiss.
No, instead he turned his head and spit. Then he just looked at her--like he wanted to kill her with his bare hands.
How. Delicious. Was. That.
God, she was beyond ready for some good, old-fashioned, no-holds-barred fucking, the kind that was going to leave marks and have her sore for days.
And in the tense, almost-there silence, she considered her options. More lecturing. More needling.
Or...she could take a match out and light this bomb.
"If I were you, I'd be nicer to me," she said, extending her tongue and lapping up the freshly welled blood on his lower lip. "Because I have something you want, don't I--and things could get pretty uncomfortable for your little
girl if I'm so inclined. What's her name? Sissy, is it--"
Boom.
As Matthias went down on his woman, only part of his mind was on the sex. The other half was busy reporting on developments south of his waistband.
It appeared as if he was hard as a two-by-four--and just as long.
Licking at Mels's core, sucking on her, going deep with his tongue, he couldn't believe the erection that was now, at this very moment, enjoying the friction of being trapped between his lower belly and the mattress.
Surprise!
He'd first noticed the change in his body as soon as he'd gotten Mels naked on the bed. One look at her perfect breasts and he'd felt a shock nail the head of his cock.
He'd glanced down at his hips and then figured he'd lost his mind.
Except, when he'd gotten up off the mattress to follow her into the bathroom, he could have sworn the shift of the pants over his pelvis registered a very specific kind of hi-how're-ya.
And now, with her coming against his face, the heart of her open to his mouth, her taste hitting the back of his throat, he knew the impossible had happened.
Reaching down, he shoved his hand between his legs.
The moan that came out of him went right into her sex.
He was hard.
Rock-hard.
And desperate, apparently: because a single, quick stroke on the top of those borrowed leathers and he had to collapse into Mels's leg, the shock, the gratitude, the--
Logic pulled all the whoo-hoo'ing up short, reminding him that just because he had an erection, that didn't mean he could finish the job.
"Matthias?"
As he cleared his throat, Mels clearly knew something was doing, his woman rising off the pillows. "What is it?"
Straightening, he got on the mattress and balanced on his knees. Then he took her hand and drew it forward. He didn't trust his voice, but then again, there was no need to talk this out. The instant she felt him, she was going to understand.
Thinking back to that craziness with Adrian in the bathroom, he still had no idea what had happened--but in addition to getting his vision back, he was now hard, and he was more than willing--and, thanks to that guy, he appeared to be, after so long, able as well.
He nearly teared the fuck up.
To be with her, really be with her...
That man was an angel, capable of miracles.
Matthias placed her palm on himself. The second contact was made, his hips jerked forward, his cock pushing into her touch, his molars locking from the shock of the pleasure.
Mels stiffened--natch.
Speak, you fool, he said to himself. Say something.
Instead, all he could do was rub himself against her, rolling his hips--which kind of counted as begging, he supposed.
And oh, sweet Jesus...Mels took over from there, her face rapt, her eyes gleaming as she gripped him through the pants.
Falling to the side, he let her claim him, his body going loose as she knelt between his legs and went for the waistband of the leathers Adrian had lent him.
"Are you okay with this?" she asked him.
He appreciated the fact that she was being sensitive about the whole scar thing. But then...somehow they weren't so deep anymore, were they?
"Yeah, if you are--"
She shut the whole issue down by loosening the extension cord tied around his waist. "Interesting belt."
"It's black."
"So it matches," she said with approval.
And then he was naked but for his underwear.
Funny, with the view of her breasts he was currently enjoying, he could have been getting both arms amputated and he wouldn't have cared.
Except he had to look down at himself, and not because he was checking out his legs.
Okay, still not in his imagination: His cock was straining against the thin cotton of his boxers like it was prepared to rip a hole in them to get at her. And it was strange...that long, thick length hadn't seemed like a true part of himself when it had been working before--maybe that was a result of his past; who knew; who cared. Yet in this moment, the damn thing seemed more vital than even his mind.
Still, he needed to warn her that this might not end well--
The instant her hand touched him, the second that warm palm circled him through the material, his body responded with a tremendous rush, his mouth cranking wide to let out an explosive curse.
When he opened his eyes again--he hadn't been aware of shutting them--he saw her face close to his own.
"How's that feel?" she asked huskily. Even though she knew.
And then she got him completely naked.
With a surge, he grabbed her shoulders and brought her to his mouth, kissing her hard as she started to stroke him for real, her grip moving up and down on his shaft, slow at first, then faster, each pass sweeping over his head and squeezing.
Matthias got utterly lost in what she was doing to him, and in that awesome disorientation, he licked into her lips, going deep, burying a hand in the thick hair at the base of her neck. More--he needed more--
In a quick shift, he pulled her over his chest and followed through on the roll, mounting her.
"I want in you," he said against her mouth.
She nodded immediately. "Let me see if I have something."
With a quick kiss, she left the bed and went for her purse. Rummaging around, she muttered a prayer. "Thank God."
When she turned around, she had a pair of condoms. "Just so we're clear, these were a friend of mine's--and I carried them for her when we went out. That's the truth."
And he believed her.
Enough with the talking, though. "Come here," he demanded, holding out his hand.
Things moved at warp speed as the necessities were taken care of; then they were right back where they had been, her thighs split, him poised over her core.
While he kissed her, plying her soft lips, she used that talented hand of hers to guide him right to the heart of her. And he took it from there. With a powerful surge, his hips pushed forward, and the penetration was something he felt to his marrow, the slick heat of her taking him all the way to the base, holding him in a grip that somehow managed to make him even harder.
In response, Mels cried out, her nails biting into his back, her body jacking up against his own, her sex spasming clearly as she orgasmed.
"Oh, God," he groaned, crushing her to his chest as he started to move in the midst of her release.
He meant to go slowly. He really did.
But when she linked her legs around his ass and worked herself against him, something snapped. All at once he went ferocious on her, his hips swinging loose at the base of his spine, the urgency ratcheting up until he was positively pounding into her.
And God bless her, she was with him, every step of the way, wanting everything he had to give, taking him as he came--
His release shattered him sure as that explosion in the desert had--blowing him apart, sending him sky-high.
The difference was that instead of rocketing him into a hell on earth, it took him straight to heaven....
As Mels felt Matthias's erection kick deeply inside of her, she held him tight, absorbing his orgasm, finding another of her own. Embracing him, she turned her face into his neck and shoulder, feeling the power in his flesh as his once broken body became whole again.
It was a...miracle.
There was no other word for it.
When she finally came back into her own head, she found him staring at her, his face grave...if not downright grim.
"I'm okay," she said with a smile. "You didn't hurt me."
He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then he just kissed her softly.
He was still hard.
Rolling them over, he kept them joined. "I don't want this to end," he said gruffly.
Neither did she.
Moving quickly, they dealt with the particulars, getting the second of her friend's condoms into place. r />
This time, she was in charge.
And she wanted to straddle him.
As she settled into place over his hips, she planted her palms on his shoulders and started riding him, his arousal going in and out of her, turning up the heat again. As the tempo increased, they were together in it, lockstep, the momentum of the sex taking on a power of its own.
They came at the same time, his release going right into her, her sex milking him, the pleasure so acute and sustained, it was a kind of pain....
And then, after what had seemed like a century, it was over.
Mels collapsed on him; then eased onto her side so they were lying together.
Staring into her eyes, he said, "You are incredible."
"Wrong pronoun."
He brushed a strand behind her ear. Then, with a gentle finger, he traced her face, as if he were memorizing it by touch.
"You're leaving in the morning, aren't you," she whispered with sudden dread.
His nod was slow and steady.
Mels closed her eyes and fell back against the pillows. Putting her forearm under her head, she stared at the ceiling.
Man...this hurt--
"I'm in love with you," he said quietly.
Her head jerked around. Matthias was still staring at her, those eyes level and penetrating, his harsh face dead serious.
For a moment of pure stupidity, she just wanted to slap him. He was pulling out of town for parts unknown, never to return, and he hit her with that?
Fuck. Him.
"I just wanted you to know."
"Before you leave," she muttered.
"Some things are worth saying."
She turned back to him and tucked her hands in--in the event they acted on that impulse. "If that's true, then why leave?"
"It's not up to me."
"So someone else is buying your bus ticket and forcing you on a Greyhound?" God, she sounded like a bitch. "Ah, hell...look, I don't want you to go. But you know that--so, we are where we are."
He loved her.
And as she looked into his face, her feelings were crystal-clear as well.
Reaching out, she put her hand on his cheek--and not in a slap. "What am I going to do without you?"
And P.S., how the hell had someone she'd just met come to mean this much? It wasn't like she was a teenager in the heat of the crush years, when any passing guy could become a tragedy of Romeo and Juliet proportions. Yet here she was, on the verge of tears because she had nearly no time left with him.
"Will I ever hear from you?" she asked.