Passion Unleashed

Chapter 18

For the first time ever, Serena wasn’t sure she could eat, wasn’t sure why she’d decided to even try. She felt strangely vulnerable here in the dining car, sitting by herself at a table. Everyone stared at her, or so it seemed.

Someone had betrayed her. Someone had been feeding Byzamoth information from the day she arrived in Egypt, and now everything made sense. Byzamoth approaching her in the street, finding her in the catacombs, and at Philae, and at the Regent’s house.

God, she wanted to throw up.

She’d tried to call Val once she calmed down, but he hadn’t answered, so now she was stuck waiting, and she kept obsessively checking for a text message or voice mail while she waited for Josh to finish checking the train for demon activity.

Thank God for him. How many times had he saved her life now? He’d given her so much in just a few short days—friendship, protection, out-of-this-world orgasms.

She just wished he’d hurry. She’d never been nervous, had always been supremely confident, thanks to the charm, but suddenly she felt exposed, and the only safe harbor was in Josh’s arms.

The thought almost made her laugh, it sounded so cheesy. But it was true. Growing up, she’d felt secure with her mother despite the fact that for the first seven years of her life, death nipped at her heels. Her mother had kept her close, always, and even after she’d given up the charm to Serena, her protective, loving nature hadn’t changed. Later, after her mother’s death, Serena had been taken to the convent, where she’d felt as if nothing could touch her. The charm had given her an even more enhanced sense of security.

In a matter of days, a lifetime of security had been shattered.

Where was Josh?

She tucked her phone back into her pack and looked up to see him, finally, enter the dining car. Her heart pounded as he approached. He was so big, his presence so commanding that everyone stopped eating to stare. She knew from watching him for the past few days that if he looked at them, the men would avert their gazes. The women, however, admired him as though trying to decide what color bedsheets he’d look best tangled up in.

Personally, Serena thought he’d looked great in the hotel ones, his tanned skin contrasting beautifully with the crisp, white cotton.

His gaze held hers as he approached, his sapphire eyes targeting her like a sniper’s scope. Her breath left her lungs in a rush, because right now, in this moment, for him there was no other woman in the room.

He wore jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that fit like a second skin and outlined every ropey muscle. His hair fell in a gorgeously messy curtain against his jaw and face, which seemed a little pale, his tattoo more prominent than before, and she wondered if he was feeling ill again.

“Hey,” he said, halting at the table.

“Hey.” She still couldn’t drag her gaze away from his. The sensation was hypnotic, and she was perfectly happy to be in this blissful trance. “Are you okay?”

“Motion sickness.” As he bent and planted a tender kiss on the top of her head, she inhaled, taking in that scent that was uniquely his, an earthy, burgundy musk that made her body bloom. He sank into the chair across from her. “Train makes me queasy.”

He was lying. He’d been sick too often, and she knew more than she wanted to about serious illness. Still, she didn’t think he’d appreciate her pressing the issue. But maybe later. After dinner. After they arrived in Alexandria. After they arrived back in the United States.

Because by now, she’d decided that she didn’t want to let him go. He made her laugh, made her feel safe and cared for. They both loved adventure, and they worked well together. She didn’t know how a relationship with him could possibly work without actual sex, but for the first time in her life, trying truly felt right.

Assuming he wanted the same thing.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” she admitted. “The idea that someone could be betraying me like that… and to a demon. God, who could do that? And why? It makes me sick.”

Some odd emotion crossed his face, but then it was gone. “Yeah.” He took a drink of the water the waiter had left. “Did you get a hold of Val?”

“No.”

“Serena… is it possible that he’s the one who—”

“No!” She lowered her voice. “Absolutely not. He’s watched over me for years, and my mom before that. He’s been more than our personal guardian. He’s a family friend. Besides, why would he send me to another country to get attacked? It makes no sense.”

“Evil rarely does.”

“He’s not evil.”

Josh shrugged, as if he wasn’t convinced, and her temper rose a notch. “Your mother died under his care, didn’t she?”

“I don’t like what you’re implying,” she bit out, because it was ridiculous to think he’d been responsible for her mother’s death in a car accident. “You don’t know him. If you did, you’d see. I wouldn’t have worked for him for so long if I’d had any doubts.”

“Okay.” Josh signaled the waiter and ordered two double whiskeys. “Is that all you do? Work? You ever do anything for yourself?”

She recognized the manipulation for what it was, an attempt to calm her down, and she was grateful for it.

“Not really,” she said sharply, because she was still a little worked up. “All the things I enjoy happen while I’m working. Looking for treasure, outsmarting traps, traveling… I love it. What about you?”

“You mean, do I do things for myself?” When she nodded, his mouth tightened into a grim slash. “I’ve lived my entire life being a selfish asshole. It’s always been about me. Only me.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

He snorted. “Trust me, Serena. Pretty much everything I’ve ever done has been because I thought it would benefit me. Why do you think I haven’t gone to see my nephews yet? I’ll have to see how they took Shade away from me.” He cursed. “See what a bastard I am? Jealous of three innocent babies.”

“It’s understandable. You love your brothers. They’re all you have.” She totally got that, because Val was all she had, and sometimes she found herself secretly jealous that David had a connection with him that she didn’t.

He went darkly silent as the waiter arrived at their table to take their orders.

“You only ordered bread,” she said, when the waiter left.

“The motion sickness,” he muttered.

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

“Yeah.” He squeezed her hand, his tone saying he was through talking about it, so she just ran her thumb back and forth over his knuckles, loving how her hand felt so small in his.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, as she reached into her backpack and fished out a toy. “Here. I got it in the hotel gift shop.”

One tawny brow cocked. “It’s a top.”

Smiling, she placed the colorful wooden plaything in his hand. “This is going to sound so stupid… but I just keep thinking about how you grew up, and… well, I can’t imagine that you had many toys, and I kind of wanted you to have one.” She continued in a rush. Buying the toy had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, the unreadable, flat expression on Josh’s face told her she might have made a huge mistake. “I’m sorry… I just thought maybe you should have something you didn’t get as a child. It’s dumb, I know—”

“You shouldn’t have.” Josh’s voice was a gruff whisper.

Serena took his hand in hers again. “It’s just a stupid toy.”

“Whatever.” Red splotches colored his cheeks, as if he was embarrassed to be pleased by a gift as small and silly as a child’s plaything. “Thanks.”

“Maybe next time I’ll step it up and get you a jack-in-the-box.”

He grimaced, and that fast, the awkwardness vanished. “No, thanks. Those things are creepy. I’ll keep the top.”

His words were nonchalant, but the warmth in his gaze wrapped around her like a hug, and she wished she was sitting beside him instead of across from him so she could return the embrace. “Good. I’d hate to have to call you an ass again.”

A passenger walked by, and Josh went taut… a very subtle stiffening of his spine, but she got the feeling he was checking out everyone in the dining car.

“Look,” he said, all commanding business. “I’ve been thinking on how we can keep you safe. My brothers are researching Byzamoth, and I’m going to escort you all the way home.”

She smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate the offer, and I’m not going to turn it down. Once I get back home, I’ll have Val—”

“You’ll also have me,” he said slowly, his voice a possessive drawl, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was jealous.

She paused while the waiter delivered their food, and once he was gone, she asked, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that as long as you’re in danger, I’m not leaving you unprotected. Either Byzamoth dies, or you have someone at your side.” He tore off a piece of bread. “Someone besides Val.”

“Val is a Guardian. He’s more than capable—”

“I don’t trust him. Not with everything that’s gone down.”

“You’ve made that quite clear, but I do trust him.”

“All the more reason for me to stay with you.”

“Now we’re back to you being an ass,” she snapped, and he actually smiled.

They ate in silence. When they were finished, he walked her to her room, and although she didn’t invite him in, he barged in anyway.

The door closed, something her mouth should have done, but instead she asked, “I know it’s crazy to ask this, but, well, where is this headed? Us, I mean. Where are we going?”

“Where do you want it to go?”

“In a perfect world?” When he nodded, she rubbed her belly, as if that would calm the fluttering. “We’d both go back to the States, and we’d see where we could take this thing between us.”

He smiled, but it was a sad smile that did what her hand could not: quell the butterflies. Killed them, actually. “I wish it were so simple.”

“It’s the virginity thing, isn’t it?”

In an instant, she was sandwiched between his body and the door, and his mouth was at her ear. “Let’s be clear on this,” he growled. “You have no idea how badly I want to be inside you. Standing up, lying down, taking you from behind. All of it. Right now.”

Oh, God. Her knees wobbled, but he wrapped an arm around her and held her steady.

“Not being able to do any of that is killing me. Literally. But strangely enough, I like just being with you. Touching you however I can, whenever I can. So no. The virginity thing is not what will keep us apart.”

“T-then what?” He did something sinful with his tongue against the shell of her ear while rocking his massive erection into her belly.

“I’m dying.”

“Dying to what?” She reached down and brushed her hand over the bulge in his jeans, because the last two times they’d been together, she’d taken from him, and this time she was giving. “Have me get down on my knees?”

“Yes, but…” His voice became strangled. “I mean, I’m dying. Cancer.”

Her chest filled with ice. “No.” She shook her head so hard her hair lashed her cheeks. “No.”

He grasped her shoulders firmly but gently. “Serena, listen to me. I’ll keep you safe as long as I can—”

“You think I’m upset because I need you to keep me safe?” She stepped away from him, eyes stinging and her entire body trembling. “You… you… ass!”

His gaze fell to the floor.

Now who’s the ass?

“Oh, Josh, I’m sorry.” Still shaking, she wrapped her arms around him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She thought about the times he was sick, and now it all made sense. It made sense, too, why he’d wanted to hang out with her from the beginning.

I decided to make a vacation out of this trip. One of those one hundred and one things to do before you die.

“It wasn’t important.” When she stiffened, because she was going to lay into him again, he added quickly, “Not at first. But now… I just don’t want you seeing a future that’s not going to happen.”

Choking back a sob, she looked up at him. “You should have told me.”

“Why? So you’d look at me with pity, like you’re doing now? I shouldn’t have told you at all.”

“You can’t tell me something like that and expect me to not react,” she ground out, and she knew she shouldn’t get angry, but dammit, this wasn’t fair. They might not have had a shot at a normal life together, but now they didn’t have a shot at any kind of life at all.

“Kiss me,” he said. “Just kiss me and don’t let this get in the way of the time we have left.” But he didn’t give her time to kiss him. Instead, he dipped his head and kissed away her tears, his satin lips wiping away the traces of her pain.

He was right. They shouldn’t be wasting what little time they had together. But how were they supposed to move forward? She wanted to bawl, the kind of sobbing you never wanted anyone to witness because it was messy and loud and left you with red, swollen eyes for a day.

“Hey. You’re not with me, here.” His mouth found hers, and he kissed her so deeply she felt it to her soul.

His tongue stroked hers and his hand came up to her neck, kneading and caressing, making her forget… and how damned selfish was she to let him make her feel better? He was the one who needed to feel good, and here he was, putting aside the fact that he was dying to comfort her.

She was a seriously selfish bitch.

“Josh,” she murmured against his mouth, “you’ve been so generous with me. I want to give you something back.” Though her hands shook, she drew them down his chest and abs. When she reached his jeans waistband, she plucked at the top button.

He closed his fingers around her wrist. “I can’t.”

“I know.” She stroked the back of his hand until he loosened his grip. “But what if I kiss my way down? Slowly. Would you let me take you in my mouth?”

He made a strangled noise and stood still—frozen, in fact, as she stripped him of his shirt. But when she kissed his left pec, lightly, gently, his head fell back and his hands grasped her shoulders. He held her as though he’d fall over if he let go. As though he didn’t want to let go.

She kissed her way lower, reveling in the taste of his skin, his masculine flavor, something she’d never truly tasted before. Not like this. She sank to her knees and used her tongue to trace his navel.

“Serena—” He tried to step back, but he was backed against the wall. Beneath the surface of his skin, he quivered.

“Shh.” She gripped his hips with firm but gentle pressure. “Please. Let me do this for you.” She looked up at him, and her heart skipped a beat at the uncertainty in his eyes.

For a long moment, they remained still, until he nodded slowly. He didn’t relax, though, tensed even harder as she unbuttoned his pants. At his sides, his hands clenched into fists, and though he rose full and thick from the opening in his jeans, she somehow felt like this was torture for him rather than pleasure.

How odd that here she was, the virgin, and yet she was having to gentle him, to ease him into this most intimate of encounters.

Her gaze dropped back down to that male part of him, and she couldn’t contain a quick, appreciative noise of admiration. Oh… my. She’d seen and touched guys before, but none had been so beautiful.

Tentatively, she dragged a finger down his shaft, following a pulsing vein that ran the dusky length to where the base flared wide. His entire body jerked, and she heard the click of teeth as he snapped them together. Feeling a little breathless, she closed her fist around him and stroked, her palm moving slowly from tip to base and back.

“I like how you feel,” she whispered, and his moan drifted down to her, a soft sound of approval that flowed over her like syrup. “You’re like satin over marble.”

She added her other hand now, using one to concentrate motion at the tip, and the other to stroke the length of his shaft. He sucked air through his teeth, but as she worked him, he relaxed, began rolling his hips toward her, subtle thrusts into her hands.

A milky bead formed at the tip. Mouth watering, she leaned in, but his body went two-by-four stiff, so she dropped her head to kiss his inner thigh. Slowly, she worked her way up, still stroking, still holding him with the reverence he deserved.

“Serena,” he rasped, his hands closing on her shoulders once more. “This… I don’t know…”

Before he could protest further, she took him into her mouth.

His entire body surged forward. She gripped his hips, holding him steady. He tasted rich and earthy, the dramatic, luxurious notes much like fine Black Sea salt. Cupping his heavy sac, she licked the head of him, flicking her tongue back and forth over the little slit.

“Oh… man,” he breathed, and then he held his breath when she took him so deep he scraped the back of her throat.

His shaft was thick, hot, and it pulsed when she applied simultaneous suction and tongue action. His groans accompanied deep arches of his back as he began to get into it, and she wished she’d done this sooner, could have given him more moments of pleasure to take him away from his tragic future.

But no, she couldn’t think on that. Not now. This was about him, and she wasn’t going to be sad right this second. There was time for that later.

Gently, she squeezed his sac, and he shouted with pleasure. Though she didn’t have experience with this, she knew instinctively to suck, to stroke, to lick… and she learned quickly where he was the most sensitive.

His hands came down to pet her hair, his fingers tender, his touch firm. It struck her then that she’d felt guilty about taking pleasure from him and giving none back… but as she measured his responses, listened, touched, tasted, she realized that giving pleasure was as much a gift as taking.