Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) (64 page)

He grinned. “Pretty damn hot.”

Watching her throw her head back and laugh, deep and carefree made everything they’d been through worth it. He was even beginning to get used to the fangs. The part that made him doubt he was awake was his newfound freedom to reach up and trace the curve of her exposed throat, to kiss the slopes of her shoulders, or skim his fingers over the bumps on her spine. Those were things he didn’t think he’d ever get used to.

He was still studying her when she sobered and peered down at him. She shook her head, her smile big and bright across her face. “That’s so sweet yet so disgusting.”

Grinning, he leaned over, putting his nose inches from hers. “You know what’s really disgusting?”

Her eyes danced with laughter. “What?”

He dropped his voice as though telling her a secret. “The way these jeans are chafing all my no-no places.”

That sent her into another peal of giggles that had her doubling over and clutching her stomach as he rose to his feet. The water shrunk considerably with the loss of his weight.

“Are you coming or staying?” he asked, hands already unfastening the snaps on his jeans.

“Coming,” she said, still laughing. She fumbled for the plug and yanked it out as he climbed out, splashing half the tub water across the bathroom floor.

Hurriedly, he yanked the itchy, soaking material down his legs and dropped them into the sink, grateful to be out of them at last. Naked, he padded to the built in wall of shelves containing all his and, he noticed with an odd flutter in his chest, Riley’s things. He snatched one towel and slung it around his waist before grabbing another and making his way back to Riley.

She was watching when he returned to her, her red eyes void of their earlier mirth and filled with a dark intensity at made him very obvious of the fact that she was sitting in a rapidly draining tub with nothing but water clinging to her skin.

“You need to rest.” It was more of a reminder to himself than it was for her. Maybe if he said it enough times, he wouldn’t feel the powerful urge to jump her. No damn such luck.

His stunning goddess said nothing and when he offered her his hand, she took it, rising from the waters the way he always pictured Aphrodite rising from the foams of the ocean. She stood before him with nothing but hunger in her eyes and her eyes on him. For a moment, he forgot why he was being so noble, especially when she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

With hands that shook only slightly, he folded her in the towel and drew her out of the tub. Maybe it was him or maybe it was her, but somehow, every inch of her grazed against him before she was finally settled with her feet on the floor.

“Not tonight,” he told her, holding her as close as he could without tempting either of them further.

A small, pink tongue snaked out and dampened lips he was already having a hell of a time looking away from. “Why?”

Damn that was a good question. He wished he had an equally good answer.

“Because you just woke up. You’re scared and confused and you need to rest.” As he spoke, he sewed confidence into each word. “We have forever and we don’t have to rush any…”

It was deliberate. He’d bet the last piece of his soul on it. The towel had been perfectly wrapped around her when he’d fastened it. Perfectly wrapped towels did not just accidently slip.

“Okay,” she murmured so innocently that he gritted his jaw. His hands clenched, trembling at his sides as she brushed past him and stalked into their room, the towel a white scrap of fabric that may as well have not been there at all.

How the hell did she do that? Those towels were enormous. They went all the way from waist to calve on him and she was shorter than he was. Damn it all to Hell, it should have been a freaking tent on her.

Smug little witch!

Blood pumped through his veins in hot rivers that spurred his heart into a gallop and his legs into moving. He was across the room before he could rein in the predator demanding a taste. Her yelp of surprise when he grabbed her arm, twisted her around and flung her back on the bed was sweet, delicious music, as was the helpless little gasp she gave when he tore the towel away and pinned her arms over her head.

“Little girls shouldn’t play dangerous games,” he growled into her ear. “Not when I am so much better at them.”

To prove it, he relinquished one hand and elected it to travel down her side, tracing her soft curves with just the tips of his fingers. The shudder of her body, her breathy little gasps were like shots of adrenaline and lust pumped straight into places that wanted to be in her.

He could take her. There was nothing stopping him, nothing keeping him from sinking so deep inside her that they both saw stars. She would welcome him. He knew she wanted it as badly as he did just from the way she was moving against the hand he was inching up to the apex of her thighs. His name whispered from her lips in a desperate, pleading chant that spilled through him like honey. He raised his head, needing to see her eyes, needing to watch when he gave her the heavens and it shattered over her face. Nothing short of that was enough. She needed to know it was his hands on her and no one else’s.

“Look at me, Riley,” he commanded when her lashes slipped closed, shutting him out.

The sooty lashes swept up immediately, widening in surprise and desire when her compliance was rewarded by penetration of his fingers. His name choked on her lips as her body arched into his hand. Her heat burned his skin.

“Please…” she whispered.

He anchored his thumb over the pleasure point and held the nub down as he searched her darkened eyes. “What, Riley?”

She dampened her lips. “Kiss me.”

His gaze went to her mouth, moist from her tongue and already parted, a welcoming banquet all for him. He released all holds on her. Shame became a chokehold on his heart as her undemanding willingness glowed in her eyes. The strips of air he’d inhaled whispered out in a low, animalistic whine as he realized how selfish he’d been with her.

“Octavian?” She reached for him. The coolness of her palm touched the side of a face that hadn’t seen a razor in weeks.

He grimaced, pulling away. He dragged the sheets over her, covering every inch of her mesmerizing body from the temptation of his eyes.

She sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest. Her confusion and hurt cut into him. “What’s wrong?”

I’m an ass,
was his first thought.

Instead, he slipped off the bed and stood over her. “Do you trust me?”

She nodded without reservation. “Yes.”

He pushed both fists into the mattress on either side of her hips as he leaned down to touch his brow to hers. “Then I ask you to trust me.” He brushed back a curl off her eyes. “I will make it up to you.” Straightening, he reached for the glass he’d set on the nightstand. He brought it to her and pressed it into her hands. “Rest. I’ll join you in a little while.”

Without giving her a chance to seduce him back into bed, he strode into the bathroom and locked himself in. He tore off the towel and climb into the shower still warm and wet from their earlier bath. His determination was fused into a plan by the time he snapped the water on and drowned himself in the first real shower in weeks.

The planning had been simple as most things usually were when they were half-baked and wedged deep in the recess of a muddled mind. It was the follow through that had him seeking professional advice.

“Mom?”

Kyaerin Maxwell glanced up from the papers on her desk, blue eyes enormous behind her glasses. She reminded Octavian of a baby owl when she blinked. “Yes darling?”

“I need your help.”

Curious, she removed her glasses, closed the handles and set them neatly on her papers. “What is it?”

He knew that if anyone could help him follow through with what needed to be done, and make sure it was done properly, it was his mother.

“What do you think?” he asked, once he was finished laying out his idea.

His mother watched him for a moment, a second too long before she did something he never expected. She burst into tears.

Horrified, Octavian rushed to her, mind a jumble of confusion and guilt as he struggled to untangle what he’d said to upset her. It was pure rotten luck on his part when Gideon, Magnus and his father strolled into the parlor and caught him in the act of comforting his sobbing mother.

“Kyaerin?” His father rushed to her.

The guilt must have been painted on Octavian’s face, because Gideon rounded on him. “What did you do?”

Still stunned, Octavian could only open and shut his mouth while rocking his head from side to side in mute denial of his blame.

“No, no.” His mother sniffled. “Octavian hasn’t done anything. I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a bit emotional of late. Ignore me.” She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of a Kleenex his father pressed into her hand. “Yes, of course I’ll help you.”

But now he wasn’t sure he wanted her to. It was so unlike his mother to fall apart like that for no reason. He wondered if he wasn’t to blame for the stress she was under.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll think of something.”

She shook her head as she rose to her feet. “No, I’m sorry, baby. It’s just…” She wiped at her nose with the balled up Kleenex. “I swear you were still just a wee little babe in my arms just yesterday…” Her voice broke as she broke into a fresh set of sobs.

Octavian exchanged panicked glances with his brothers, wondering if there was still time to sneak out of the room.

“And now,” she croaked. “You’ve found your mate and Reggie has found his and you’re both growing up and moving on…”

“About time I say,” Gideon jumped in. “Those centuries just…
poof
in the blink of an eye.”

Their mother gave him a dry glower. “It’s not the same. It doesn’t matter how many centuries have passed. I just… I just never thought I’d see the day when my babies would finally start families of their own and…” Her lower lip wobbled, fresh tears glistened in her eyes. “I’m just so happy.”

“You know what else says happy?” Gideon said. “Smiles. Hugs. Oh, chocolates.”

Magnus elbowed him.

Their mother chuckled. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.” She wiped roughly at her cheeks and forced a smile. “I say we do it tonight because we have to reopen the diner tomorrow.”

He crept into the room he shared with Riley, so careful to avoid every creaky floorboard and every rustle of the plastic parcel in his hand on his way to the bed where she lay on her back, her hair a basket of spilled ribbons across the pillow. She had one hand curled delicately next to her slightly parted lips and the other rested lightly on her abdomen. She reminded him of Sleeping Beauty, so enchanting in sleep, waiting for the kiss of her prince to awaken her. It took all his resolve not to do it, to not bend down and let her sweet flavor fill his senses. Instead, he carefully lay his package down on the foot of the bed and crept over to her.

“Riley.” He ghosted his fingers lightly along her cheek, tracing the gentle swell to the corner of her lips. “Wake up.”

Thick, dark lashes fluttered and then lifted so he was caught in the sleepy depths of her beautiful eyes. She blinked once and then did something that stole every breath in his body; she smiled.