Immortally Yours, An Urban Fantasy Romance (Monster MASH, Book 1) (11 page)

Trapped, I braced both hands against the plastic underside of the dash, crouching close, trying to make myself small as possible as I faced the shuddering predator.
 

I swallowed, trying to breathe. The first scorpion's stinger was an inch from my cheek, dripping poison into the black hole where the stick shift had melted away.
 

"Petra." Galen's voice drew closer.
 

I didn't dare move.
 

"Petra," he repeated, the edge back in his voice.
 

"I'm here," I said into the plastic.
 

"Thank gods," he swore. "Hang on. I've got you."
 

Behind me, I heard the high-pitched rending of metal and steel as he yanked the door off its hinges. The seat that pinned me was wrenched back. "Are you hurt?"
 

"I don't know," I said, breathing freely again, afraid to turn my head, not willing to take my eyes off the stinger.
 

"We'll get you out of here." Galen's hand closed over my shoulder. "Follow my lead, okay?"
 

"Gotcha," I said, trying—and failing—to maintain a shred of calm as I inched toward him.
 

My back hit the steering wheel.
 

"Can you bend?"
 

I felt closed in, trapped in the tiny space. "No." My mind raced. My breath came in gasps. I started seeing tiny black dots in front of my eyes.
 

Holy hell. I hadn't had a panic attack since med school. I braced my hands on the dirty floor of the jeep and breathed in through the mouth, out through the nose. In through the mouth, out through the nose. I couldn't lose it. Not now or I could fall right into that stinger.
 

"Hold on." I heard the groan of plastic and metal as the barrier behind me lifted. One arm curled around my waist, drawing me away from the deadly poison. "You're okay. I've got you."
 

"I'm fine." I tried to swallow. Failed. "Just don't touch me for a minute." I had this handled. I was almost out. Galen had ripped off the steering wheel and a lot of other parts, too. Because, sure, of course—why not slay two giant scorpions and then rip the side off a jeep? I couldn't believe I was even a teeny-tiny part of this. I gave a high-pitched, strung-out laugh. "What are you, Superman?"
 

"Just your average demi-god."
 

I tried to croak out another laugh. There was nothing average about this man.
 

My body was stiff with fear and shock. As soon as I started moving, I came down with the shakes.
 

"Easy now," he said, catching me when I reached the edge of the seat, making sure I didn't fall face-first into the dirt.
 

"Oh yeah. Piece of cake," I said, as he pulled me from the wreck and crushed me to him.
 

He was breathing hard, his neck bent, his chin resting against my forehead. I wrapped my arms around his back and held on. His grip was steady. Mine was not.
 

The jeep was crushed—with one speared monster on the roof and another on the hood. He pulled me tighter and at the same time angled himself between me and the wreck.
 

His heart pounded against my cheek. My tears fell hot against his cold chest. We were both so cold.
 

My breath came in sharp gasps as I clung to him. He'd saved my life. God. He'd saved me.
 

It felt so good to be safe.
 

He'd lost his new bandage somewhere along the way. Or maybe the nurses hadn't even thought he needed another one.
 

He'd be shipping out tomorrow for sure. And while that should have been a relief, all I could feel at that moment was a keen sense of loss.
 

I wondered what would have happened if I'd met him at a different time, under different circumstances—in a world that didn't involve ancient bronze daggers, the prophecy, or this bloody war.
 

It was ridiculous. He was an immortal warrior. I was a girl from the Eighth Ward. Yet I felt more connected right there with him than I'd felt with anyone in a long time.
 

I took advantage of his closeness to run my fingers along the puckered red scar where I'd sewn him together. He inhaled sharply.
 

"Does it hurt?" I asked, jerking back.
 

"No." He caught my wrist and held it.
 

His breath came quick. His eyes glittered like ice. We were completely alone. Hidden in the darkness.
 

"How did you find me?" I hurried to ask, stumbling over the words, making conversation, refusing to believe what could and would happen with this man if I only let myself have it.
 

My cheeks flushed. My heart beat wildly in my chest. And it had nothing to do with the two dead scorpions sizzling on the jeep.
 

Galen knew it. The soldier in him caught every detail, dissected every nuance.
 

If I didn't want this, I should back away right now.
 

But I couldn't. I needed it. It was real and good and gut-wrenchingly right. I knew him. I'd seen into his soul and understood without a doubt that Galen was the kind of man I wanted to be with.
 

He was noble, strong, and loyal. He would stand by me, fight for me.
 

He was a gift. One I couldn't have. I shouldn't. But one I so desperately wanted to pretend was mine, if only for a little while.
 

Sparks of pleasure burned through me as he ran his fingers down the side of my neck, and I nearly exploded when he followed with teeth and tongue. "You taste so good," he murmured against my skin.
 

My breath came in gulps. I tried to think of something, anything other the sweet heat and the throbbing ache between my legs.
 

Talk. Just talk. Maybe we could talk.
 

But my throat was hoarse and my voice pitched wildly. "I can't believe you're in one piece."
 

My nipples tightened as he ran his hands up my sides, over my white tank top. I wished it were my bare skin. "I got lucky," he said, stopping just below my breasts.
 

God. I wanted him. I wanted this.
 

I shifted so I could feel him. He was rock-hard and ready. My hands fisted at my sides. I could touch him. I could feel the whole hot length of him in my hand. I could make him gasp again.
 

I dug my fingers into my palms until it hurt. "So what kind of scorpions were those anyway?"
 

His gaze turned steely, ripping over me with a ferocity that stung. "Petra," he said, his thumb tracing my lower lip, "shut up."
 

He gripped my shoulders and edged me against the smooth side of a broken-down Humvee.
 

For an instant he stilled. Our breaths mingled, fast and ready. Every nerve sizzled, and my senses sharpened. My body thrummed with anticipation.
I shouldn't be doing this
. He'd be gone soon.
 

I could end this. I could let him leave. But then I'd never know what it was like to slide naked against him, hot and sweaty and eager, his mouth on my breast, his teeth grazing the nipple.
 

The moonlight framed him like a halo. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as his mouth hovered over mine. He bent his head slowly, and I closed my eyes tight as his mouth touched mine.
 

His lips were soft, so unlike the rest of him. His kiss was languid and sensual, as if he was savoring every last bit of it, committing it to memory.
 

I unclenched my fingers and touched them to the hard plane of his chest. The corners of my mouth curved up and I slipped closer, fitting him against me. He groaned and pressed tighter, his mouth gentle, his fingers sliding through my hair.
 

I'd never expected this. Him. Galen the big, bad special ops soldier was kissing me slow and sensual and raw.
 

He had to be on an adrenaline high. Hell, I knew he was. But he didn't push. He didn't shove. He took it painfully and achingly slow.
 

He kissed the edges of my mouth, dipped in, teasing me with his tongue. It was earth-shatteringly intimate. Strong, cool Galen of Delphi had a tender side. But hadn't I known that? I'd seen it in his soul.
 

Fear crept into the corner of my mind.
 

I'd never imagined anything like this, like him. My entire body was alive, lit up from the inside.
 

I couldn't share that with him. It was too much.
 

But we could have something else. I knew he wanted me. I nibbled his lower lip, ground hard against his arousal.
 

He groaned low in the back of his throat. I trailed my fingers down his belly, to where his taut skin disappeared under the pajama pants. I yanked the ties open.
 

"What do you want, Galen?"
 

"God damn it, Petra," he hissed as I slid my hands around the edge, then underneath. And then he went perfectly still as I ran my hands over his hips and down his lean, hard thighs.
 

"Tell me what you want to do to me, Galen."
 

His hot breath scalded my cheek. "I'm going to kiss you until your juice is running down your legs. Then I'm going to strip you naked, lick it up, and suck on your clit until you come."
 

"Oh gods."
 

He shoved me back against the side of the Humvee and pinned me there with an eating, devouring kiss. I wound my hands through his hair, yanking him closer. There was no more thinking. No more doubt. I wound myself shamelessly around him, raw and primal and powerful. This was how it was supposed to be.
 

He shoved my scrub pants down. I kicked them off as he arched my leg around his neck and fell on his knees in front of me.
 

I jerked my head back as I felt his mouth on my inner thigh, the rough brush of his cheek. God, I was so wet. He lingered, kissing his way up to the core of me. I wanted to scream, thrash, make him go faster.
 

At last his lips and tongue found me. His shoulders shook as he tasted me. Slowly, he licked the very center of me.
 

"More," I pleaded, my heel at his back, squirming closer. "Galen."
 

He broke at the sound of his name, groaning out loud as he devoured me. My body reeled at the tidal wave of sensation. My legs quivered. My hips thrust. There was no holding back, not anymore.
 

His hands tightened on my thighs, opening me wider, pushing me harder as I came with a scream.
 

He kept with me, never letting up. The force of it ripped through me.
 

And then boneless, panting, and shuddering, I watched as he ran his tongue along the inside of one quivering thigh, then the other. I was riveted, shocked, and I grew even wetter as he lapped up my juices. He was slow and indulgent.
 

He reveled in it.
 

"Galen, I—" I began, gasping for breath, for sanity.
 

He gazed up at me, his blue eyes piercing, his mouth wet. "I told you what I was going to do."
 

He caressed me as he stood.
 

Both of us stiffened as screams pierced the night. He whipped his head around, as if he could see into the darkness.
 

"Imps," he said, "here in the minefield."
 

I was still half submerged in a mix of searing excitement and bone-drenching lassitude. "How do you know?" I asked, clawing my way back to the real world.
 

The scar across his right eyebrow furrowed as he gave me a you've-got-to-be-kidding look.
 

"You're still in danger," he said, retying his pajama pants. He found mine on the ground and returned them to me. Hands shaking, I tugged them on.
 

I could see the outline of his cock, long and thick under the thin cotton. I still wanted to touch it.
 

He saw me staring and grinned. "I've created a monster."
 

I laughed at that, wondering just how true it was.
 

He sheltered me behind him as a hissing crackle pierced the air. I looked on top of the jeep and saw the assassin's body smoke and bubble, folding into itself, boiling down into the caved-in roof. The metal groaned and collapsed. I gasped as it took the stinger of the first scorpion with it, along with the entire front end of the vehicle.
 

I stared, wide-eyed. "Please tell me they're dead at least," I said, barely finding my voice.
 

"They're definitely not going anywhere." He glanced over his shoulder at me. "Let's help this last one along."
 

Galen took two steps backward and located a long piece of steel that might have been a stretcher support or perhaps part of a helicopter blade. No matter. He lifted it like it weighed nothing, his broad shoulders steady, the muscles in his back flexing.
 

Holy heck. To think I'd ordered this soldier into a wheelchair.
 

I watched as bounded up onto the front of the jeep.
 

Legs spread, he plunged the improvised spear into the abdomen of the scorpion on the hood.
 

The metal hissed as the creature's flesh crackled around it.
 

He used an arm to wipe the sweat from his face. "I must have missed the heart the first time," he said, dodging a sizzling pile of goo.
 

Oh sure. That was it. "If I had a nickel for every time that happened to me."
 

"Do you have a smart answer for everything?" he asked, jumping down.