Touched by Lightning (12 page)

It wasn’t the kind of kiss he’d wanted to give her. It wasn’t about sex, but about snapping her out of her daze, which is why he sent a bolt of electricity through their connections. Her eyelashes fluttered, some of the pleasure leaving her face. Except it still wasn’t enough. He did it again and again, sending her little jolts of his power to snap her awake.

And it was only when he saw some of the cloudy pleasure leave her eyes that he pulled away from her. Her lips were dark and swollen from his rough kiss, her face flushed, but for once it didn’t turn him on. Because he couldn’t be sure if it was from his kiss or from her fucked-up affair with sharp objects.

Brit stood and stepped away from her, his body humming with the fury and hurt and fear roiling through his veins. She didn’t move for the longest time, just stared at him with that confused expression on her face. Then she looked down at herself. Her arms snapped up to cover her chest and the confusion faded beneath a heated glare.

“Sorry, babe,” he drawled as he leaned against the wall. “Bloody bodies don’t do much for me so you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Color flooded her cheeks, but her stubborn chin angled up at him. She was daring him to say something about her favorite pastime and he was so ready for it.

“So this is what you do, huh?” he asked with a wave of his hand, indicating the blood, the first-aid kit at her feet and the bloodied shard of pottery next to the tub. “You can’t deal with real life like an adult, so you go for this shit.”

Her nostrils flared and something dark glittered in her eyes.

His chest grew tighter, his eyes not even seeing her anymore, but Dwayne.

“Yeah, I know your life was shit,” he rasped, the words straining to get past the lump in his throat. “People used you, hurt you, put no value on you so you don’t put value on yourself. And you hurt so much…” His voice faded out as he recalled his friend, the first casualty of power abuse he’d ever seen.

Twenty-two years old when he joined up with the O.T., a skinny kid who’d killed himself because his powers made him the target of the dead and the living. Poor Dwayne had been a very rare medium, able to communicate with the dead, who tormented him endlessly. Then there’d been his family who wanted to use his abilities for their gain, beating him when he was a child to get him to agree to open himself to the spirits. It’d been an endless cycle and one that caused him to do like Gyda did and cut himself to relieve some of the pressure he lived under.

Brit tried so many times to understand what had thrown Dwayne over the edge, that he’d go from cutting to suicide, and maybe his friend hadn’t meant to go that far. Maybe the thrill of playing with death had grown too strong and he’d cut too deep. More than likely though, Dwayne had given up fighting his demons and gave in to the hurts he’d experienced as a child and the spirits wearing him down, because when Brit found his friend in their dorm room…

He squeezed his eyes shut and let gravity take him to the ground, sliding down the wall until his ass hit the floor. It was too easy for him to see this beautiful woman colorless from lack of blood, her eyes with that glazed, peaceful look that only came from death. His soul
ached
for Gyda, the bond he felt for her—wanted to permanently form with her—demanded he watch over her, but he honestly didn’t know if he was strong enough to go through it again. To hope and pray someone he cared for wouldn’t decide today was the day they’d end it all.

“You don’t fucking know what you’re playing with,” he told her in a harsh voice. “And you probably don’t care, but others do.” He opened his eyes and narrowed them at her, trying to get through to her. “You might not care what happens to you, you might not put value on yourself, but I do, Gyda. I do and each of those cuts kills me.”

Gyda stared at him in silence, her brain trying to process everything from the kiss to the contempt in Brit’s voice to the pain on his face and the words he spoke. Words that reached deep inside her to touch something that wasn’t Tora or even the Gyda she was today. It reached in and grabbed hold of the girl she’d been before she became Sixteen. The girl who never believed she mattered because she’d been thrown away as a child.

There was a part of her that honestly believed she’d brought her torment on herself. Maybe if she hadn’t been born different, a supe, her parents would’ve kept her. Or maybe if she’d been a good girl, she would’ve been in school and the master wouldn’t have gotten his dirty hands on her at all. If only she’d listened to Sister Agnes and believed in God and heaven and all the saints, she would’ve been spared her torment.

Then there was the other part of her, the one who’d crawled out of that cage ready to bow to her next master. It told her Brit had to be lying. Because no one cared. People didn’t give a shit about each other unless there was something in it for them. Men told women they loved them all the time to get pussy. Women told men they loved them all the time for money or security. Parents lied to their kids, kids lied to their parents. It was universal. People were animals and their only allegiance was to themselves and their survival.

Except Brit almost had her believing he gave a shit about her continued existence. As though it meant something to him and that’s what made her younger self awaken. The young Gyda had prayed for someone to see value in her, wanted it more than anything. She’d dreamed about finding someone to love her, of being a part of something important and big, something that would give meaning to her existence. Something she could point to and say, “See? I wasn’t a mistake. I was meant to be here because of this.” And she’d never found it. But that was what Brit was telling her now, that her life, her pain and future meant a lot to him.

She stared at him in silence, unable to cling to a single thought in her head except one. He was hurting. For her. It pained him to see her bleeding. He’d always seemed so strong, even when he let her hand his ass to him, and seeing him this way was unfathomable. But there was no denying what he felt, because it pounded against her mental shields.

Terror, pain and anger so powerful it sizzled in the air threatened to beat down her defenses. All of it coming from this man. Beneath it, though, was something she wasn’t sure she could trust. Oh she wanted to. Affection, clean and pure and heated, coated the other emotions wafting from him. The pain of her cuts was nothing compared to the ache she felt in her chest at the thought of holding even a sliver of this man’s affection.

She held perfectly still, staring at him with wide eyes, terrified to trust in him, to believe he could actually care for her. And as she watched, his body lost its tension and he slumped against the wall, his head tilting back. It was a pose of exhaustion and defeat. Gyda didn’t like seeing him that way.

To her, Brit was larger than life. A hero and someone who’d shown her more compassion and understanding than anyone ever had in her life. Which meant… He had to be telling the truth? He cared about her? And he thought she didn’t return those feelings.

Do you?
Sixteen asked in a mildly curious tone Gyda shied away from. She wasn’t ready to analyze her feelings. She had enough trouble trying to understand and get a handle on living among people who didn’t judge her. She wasn’t ready to think about developing affection for someone else.

Despite all the shit we’ve done since we’ve met him, attacked him and his friends, trying to run away, showing him contempt, he hasn’t hurt us.
Sixteen’s calm, even voice washed through Gyda’s busy mind like a cooling balm.
And you like the way he makes you feel when he touches you. You care for him.

Yes, yes she did. Gyda stared at him, slightly dumbfounded and amazed at him, at the beauty that was Britton Harper. He’d made her feel better, hadn’t used her for his own pleasure back in the woods. He stopped her from hurting herself because he thought she didn’t value herself. He really
was
a good man. It wasn’t wrong to care for him because he was an amazing person.

Something that felt a lot like hope filled her, pulling her toward him. She slid off the toilet, her arms falling to her sides and eased to her knees right in front of him. Heat curled in her belly, a selfish reaction she couldn’t help. He was beautiful and powerful, a man who had the ability to hurt but instead chose to care for her, to be gentle with her, to give her pleasure.

And she was going to return it.

He’d totally lost his shit in front of the one woman who needed him to keep his cool.
Great going
, he told himself with an inward groan. She was the one who needed help and yet he’d just gone all emo on her. Dwayne would’ve pissed himself laughing and all his sisters would run to mark the date as the day Big Brother Brit Lost It.

He could handle this. He’d been through enough humiliating situations to handle one like this. Hell, he’d even gotten a facial to shut Joe up when she pouted because none of her male employees would get one. For months afterward he’d found slices of cucumbers and that green goop left on his desk as his fellow brothers mocked him. He’d handled that. He could handle this.

But the soft brush of fingers through his hair caused his heart to trip. Air got caught somewhere between his chest and throat and he didn’t dare make a move to take more in. Not when Gyda was touching him of her own volition. When her fingers glided through the strands, her fingernails gently scraping his scalp, goose bumps erupted all over his body, quickly followed by a sudden wash of heat.

His cock hardened as her sweet and spicy scent grew stronger. He didn’t need his eyes to know she’d moved closer. He could sense her, his
power
could sense her and reached for her. Gyda’s soft gasp had his eyes opening to see her kneeling in front of him. Brit suddenly wished he had the ability to paint or put into words what he really felt because she looked beautiful. No, more than beautiful.

With her eyes open wide and dark with curious attraction, she appeared like some kind of innocent wakening from a spell. Thankful once again that none of his friends or family could hear his thoughts, Brit simply watched Gyda as she continued to stroke her hand through his hair. If she kept it up, he almost thought his leg might start shaking from happiness.

But her questing fingers slid from his hair to his cheek, the soft tips skimming over his cheekbone. She sucked in a deep breath, which he echoed because the instant she touched skin to skin, his power leapt into her and bounced back again. He’d thought it before, but he knew it for certain now. Together he and Gyda were an open current, able to pass his power back and forth without harming either of them.

And if he’d needed more proof that she belonged to him, she didn’t jerk away from him or his electricity. A sweet, hot look sparked in her green eyes, chasing some of that innocent wonderment away. Now she was a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it. Fuck him, but it was sexy.

Gyda’s questing fingers trailed across his lips, leaving a wave of fire behind. Unable to help himself, caught up in the spell she’d cast without even meaning to, Brit opened his mouth and captured her index finger between his lips, laving the tip the way he wanted to taste her nipples, her clit. She drew in another shaky breath, her gaze dipping down to stare at his mouth where he lapped at her fingers. She licked her lips as though she could taste his kiss.

Somehow she was parting his legs to make room for her to wiggle between them, fitting herself against his chest, her mouth only a hairsbreadth from his, her soft pants wafting across his lips. He could feel the hard points of her nipples pressing into his skin through her bra and it took everything he had not to tear the offending fabric away. He’d dreamed of those breasts of hers, of tasting them, of burying his face between her legs and tasting her sweet pussy.

His cock throbbed behind the fly of his pants, an iron bar of want she had to feel since she was plastered to the front of his body. But she didn’t move, didn’t shy away. She stared at his mouth as though it held all the secrets in the world. Her body softened against him as her head lowered, her lips moving by slow increments until Brit was nearly shaking from holding himself still.

Then Gyda was kissing
him
, her soft lips gently dragging against his. She didn’t go at him aggressively and he hadn’t expected her to, but wasn’t prepared for the power in the tender caress. His mouth went slack at the sweetness of her giving him this little bit of trust. She paused when his lips parted and he opened his eyes to see her staring at him with uncertain yet hungry eyes. When he made no move to deepen the kiss, to take over, a spark of excitement lit her face. And she teased the moist seam of his lips with the tip of her tongue.

Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. God, please let me hold this shit together.
He prayed like never before, fisting his hands on his knees to keep from grabbing her. His heart felt as if it were about to explode from the effort of holding back. His dick pulsed, slick pre-cum beading on the tip. He had to be leaving a damp spot on his pants, but he couldn’t be bothered worrying about that right now. Brit wasn’t sure if he could concern himself with anything but letting Gyda have her sweetly innocent way with him.

She must have taken his passiveness as acceptance of her deepening the kiss, because she pressed even closer and slid her tongue into his mouth, curling it around his before retreating. His followed and soon they were kissing like a couple of hot-and-heavy teenagers. Their tongues tangled, their breaths mingled, their hearts pounded together and his cock throbbed into the soft curve of her belly.

And it was amazing. But not nearly as amazing as when one of her hands slid down his chest to fist his t-shirt, dragging the hem up his torso until they were skin-to-skin everywhere except for where her bra shielded her breasts. He moved his hands, bringing them to either side of her slight waist, not wanting to startle her. When she didn’t jump or break away from the kiss, he stroked upward, his goal the clasp at the back of her bra.

She must have realized his intentions, because she pulled away.
Damn.
The thought crossed his mind before he banished it. If this was all she gave him, he’d gladly take it because it was still progress. A few more days… She knelt in front of him, a secret smile on her lips. That was sexy. And he’d forever memorize the way she looked now with her cheeks flushed with desire, her lips soft…her hands reaching behind her to unhook her bra.

Brit wasn’t even aware he was holding his breath until it whooshed from his lungs as the cups fell away from her body, revealing perky breasts with rosy-pink nipples. She gently tossed the bra to the side and let him look even as a deeper flush started at her neck and glided upward to rest in her cheeks. But he was so amazed at the level of her trust. Okay he was also a little in awe of her breasts. He’d always thought he liked them big enough to smother a man, but Gyda’s teacup offerings were perfect. She was perfect because it was her.

He had to fight the urge to fall on her like a salivating beast or to start drooling, neither of which was a good idea with a girl as skittish as his Gyda. But it was only when she started to lift her hands to cover up her chest that he realized he hadn’t done a single thing other than gape at her. He grabbed her wrists in a gentle hold, keeping them at her sides and had to forcibly drag his hungry stare away from her beautiful tits to her face.

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted like a fool. Heat crawled up his neck, but he soldiered on, needing her to know how honored he was. He looked down at her again, his tongue swiping out to wet his lips. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

She shook her head, some of the unease fading away. Then she pointed at him, pressing her finger to the center of his chest.

He was confused. “Me?” She nodded. “I’m what?”

“You’re beautiful.”

It was the barest whisper of sound. So bare, he might have imagined he heard it at all, but there was no mistaking the shy way she bit her lip after speaking. She’d spoken.
For him.
And damn but his eyes started to sting with the need to express his gratitude in the most unmanly of ways, but he held it back because there was a much better way he could think to thank Gyda for gifting him with her voice.

She was so nervous. If he didn’t stop staring at her like that, she’d probably jump to her feet and run away. She couldn’t believe she’d spoken. Sixteen had urged her to try, convinced her it wouldn’t hurt anyone to give voice to her thoughts. And it hadn’t. It’d felt good even if it was weird to feel her vocal cords vibrate, or hear the rasp of her voice. It sounded more like a hissing whisper than speech, but the impact it had on Brit was profound.

Gyda saw it in his eyes, his realization of how important it was for her to speak. She swore his eyes were damp, but before she could decide if he actually was that touched, he slid his hands around her body to her ass. Her breath caught in her throat and she reached out to grip his shoulders. His electricity was a soft sizzle like a static charge building. It wasn’t painful at all, but pleasant. He didn’t drag her against him or start trying to get her pants off. Again, he showed amazing restraint, something she could appreciate and that even made Tora grudgingly think that perhaps a man in control wasn’t a bad thing. The Beast liked the gentle care he showed, was even coming to enjoy the way he tasted and tended to her.

She stared into his eyes, which were no longer dark with despair or hurt, but with hunger and that strange affection. She still didn’t get why he’d feel something for her other than disgust, but Gyda would take it. Brit made her feel
good
things. When he touched her or kissed her or even looked at her like he was now, it was sweet and pure and hot.

But he said, “We don’t have to do anything.”

Gyda froze, some of the warm fuzzies fading. He didn’t want her? She glanced down at his lap where his hard cock was clearly outlined by his pants, then his body started shaking with silent laughter. When she looked back up at his face, he was grinning at her, those dimples flashing at her like lethal weapons.

“Yeah, I want you.”

Sixteen started laughing in the back of Gyda’s mind, tickled pink that Brit was being a
gentleman
.
He’s turning you down because he thinks you’re fragile or something. How fucking sweet is that?

He squeezed her ass, his big hands easily cupping the globes. “Darlin’, listen to me. You just had a traumatic moment. I was angry with you and you’re probably feeling like you have to make it up to me or something. You don’t. I want you a lot, but know I’d never ask you to do something you don’t want to— Oof.”

Gyda quit listening to Sixteen who was howling with laughter because Gyda was finally giving in to what she wanted and Brit who was running off at the mouth. She listened to her body instead and it said it wanted this man who had honor shining through every pore of his body. He was beautiful in a way she probably didn’t deserve, but that wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying it while she could.

She tackled him against the wall and plastered her mouth to his, using the trick he’d used on her in the woods by thrusting her tongue between his lips in a wet, carnal example of what she wanted. Brit seemed to understand perfectly, because instead of saying more shit about her not knowing what she wanted, he got with the program. She tore at his shirt, breaking their kiss only long enough to pull the fabric over his head, a moan threatening to escape her as his naked chest pillowed her breasts.

Magic. His skin was satiny smooth and tight, layered over as much muscle as he had. Gyda wanted to gorge herself on him, running her hands over his shoulders, arms and chest, tracing the raised lines of a few of his tattoos where the artist had gone a little deep. His hands weren’t idle either, stroking over her back, her hips, her ass. Then sliding around to the front and sliding upward.

The pleasure. If she still believed in a god, she would’ve thanked him for making it possible. Her body thrilled at his touch, her breaths coming in loud, gasping moans that should have embarrassed her. When one of his big hands gripped her right beneath her ass and tugged at her leg, she helped him put her in his lap, her legs straddling his narrow hips. Gyda groaned into his mouth at that because this new position aligned their bodies perfectly.

Then his hands finished their slow glide up her stomach to cup her suddenly heavy, aching breasts. She gasped when his fingers pinched and rolled her nipples at the same time he sent gentle pulses of electricity to them. That shock of power, the delicious sting shot straight to her cunt, sending a gush of cream to her panties. She was primed, her pussy soaked and hot and he’d somehow managed to position her so that his hard shaft rubbed the seam of her pants against her clit.

“Oh,” she gasped into his mouth as she tried to assess all the sensations flooding her body.

She was so wet she knew she had to be drenching her pants. She needed his touch, a deeper touch than he’d given her the other day. She needed
him
. Inside her, fucking her, easing the ache in her cunt.

“Please,” she whispered. She rubbed her sex against him. “Please.”

He must have known what she wanted, because the world spun as he swung their bodies around. Before she knew it, he’d placed her back on the bathroom rug with him hovering over her, his body nestled in the cradle of her hips. Gyda froze at the change in position. It was one that called to mind a lot of memories she wished could be easily wiped away. Her heart stopped beating and her muscles locked.

Brit felt the difference in her body immediately and his head tilted to the side as he stared at her. “Sorry,” he said hoarsely, backing away a little. Some of the heat left his face as understanding took its place. “Shit, Gyda, I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”