Taking himself out, he kissed and licked up her body, once again focusing on a perfect breast while he stroked himself up, getting hard enough to get this underway. At the right level of turned on—which, these days, was usually just good enough—he laid his body over hers and pushed the head of his dick just past her outer lips. With one big push, he pumped himself all the way in, his hips hitting against her ends. Not wasting any time, he slammed into her, deep and hard, taking out his frustration on the world with her sweet sex.

  “Yes, Boss. Harder! Yes!” she moaned, clutching her hair in fistfuls as her breasts bounced up and back with his rhythm.

  Stefan put his body low over her, swiveling his hips, his cock working up a nice, wet friction against her inner walls. He worked harder, thinking of the human’s smell trapped in his secret den—a place which she shouldn’t have found on her own. It was spicy and fragrant, trapping his senses.

  “Oh you’re so hard!” Darla moaned, pumping her sex up to meet his thrusts.

  Stefan’s balls were starting to constrict, the room ringing with wet slapping as his body hammered off of hers. Sweating and panting, Darla reached forward, her eyes closed, her face one of bliss, and clutched onto him, scraping those sexy nipples off of his chest.

  Stefan’s eyes rolled up in the back of his head as his cock erupted, filling her. Three more thrusts and he was emptied.

  “Hmmm, that was nice,” Darla said, leaning back on the desk, her hand trailing down between her breasts.

  Out of breath, Stefan straightened up and fastened his pants. He nodded. “I’ll see you.”

  “Soon.” She laughed in a low, throaty voice as he made his way out of the room. She was under the impression she all but had the mate title.

  And realistically, she was probably right.

  *****

  I blinked my eyes in the bright sunlight. I was positioned directly under a window with the shade up, in direct line with the sun. I blocked the glare with my palm, squinting around the room. One glance told me where I was, and the second told me who I was with. I rolled so my head was on the pillow and groaned.

  “Good mid-morning,” Charles said in a tired, gruff voice.

  He sat off to the side in a large, vintage chair with velvet arms. He held knitting equipment that he quickly let fall to his lap in anticipation of conversation. Which apparently meant we had to have one.

  “Hi.” My voice was just as gruff and tired. “I feel like a drowned rat.”

  “That’s because you look like a drowned rat.”

  I grunted, rolling to the very edge of the bed so the sun wasn’t beating down on me. I sat up slowly, clutching my head to keep it from exploding. “What happened after I passed out?”

  “A few things, mostly concerning bodily fluid. All over my car.”

  A humiliated glance told me he wasn’t upset somehow. I mumbled out an extremely embarrassed, “Sorry…”

  “Eh,” he shrugged. “Once I threw up all over Jonas when I had too much to drink. Then I got my ass beat. It happens.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  “So anyway…feeling horny? I know I am…”

  I couldn’t help but wheeze out a laugh. It was hard to take the guy seriously. “No, I’m not really in the mood.”

  He shrugged, unconcerned. “I figured, what with the near death incident, but it never hurts to ask.”

  “I nearly died? What do you mean?”

  “Too big of a magical release. Who would’ve thought a human would have enough magic for that, huh? Go figure. But there you go.”

  My head wrapped around the information slowly, the term unfamiliar anywhere but with a clown and a wand. “Magic? Me?”

  My memory drifted back to that black stuff that shot out of my palms. It had felt like my insides were pulled out through my fingertips until I had nothing left to fill my body. Shortly thereafter I’d felt like I had the worst fever imaginable.

  It made a lot more sense than I wanted it to. So I switched gears immediately. “Where’s Jared?”

  “His mind was wiped and his body deposited back with his orange headed roommate. They’re both being kept in their rooms until all our influence wears off. Jared’s going to be a little spacey for a while, though—we had a lot of emotional damage to try and hide.”

  “How do you do it? Erase memories?”

  “Oh, we don’t exactly erase them. They’re still there, we just, kinda, cover it up. Hide it. Like really old memories that you thought were gone. Dreams will bring them back up, but everyone assumes dreams are just imaginary, so…”

  My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I nodded, unable to process any more. “When can I go home? I have a class later this afternoon.”

  He laughed, picking up his knitting. “You couldn’t even walk out of here if you tried, but you want to go to school? Tenacious. And dumb. No, Mira is taking care of that. She’ll go in your place until you’re well enough. She’s pretty smart! She has her doctorate in physics, I think. A little glamour in the right places, and actually doing your homework—something you apparently fail to do half the time…” he tsk’ed at me, “and voila, great grade.”

  “But…”

  “Plus, we’re still not 100% sure you’re accepting the Boss’s blood. You seem like you’re recovering, but sometimes humans’ bodies reject the potency of the magic. Usually, the first few times, you’d get blood from someone with a lower level of power to see your reaction, but you were too far gone.”

  “The Boss’s blood?” My voice sounded hollow. I vaguely remembered choking down metallic tasting liquid, but I’d had no idea what it was. Or whose it was.

  “Yes. Shocking, right? I know. He hasn’t given his blood to anyone since he became the leader of this territory. But he’s the strongest, most powerful of us, and if anyone could’ve saved you, it was him. His idea, too. Good guy, that Boss. We’re in good hands with him, even though we’re against a pretty powerful mage.”

  Half of me found all this fascinating. This was another life, one I hadn’t known even existed outside of my weird hallucinations, a few short days ago. The other half of me just wanted him to stop talking. Even though he seemed sweet, he was uncommonly chatty, and with the state of my body and head at the moment, I just wanted quiet.

  To that end, I lay back down, then immediately tried to fight off an overanxious sun. Eyes squeezed shut, I turned my face at Charles. “Can I ask you to lower the shade, please? The sun is blinding me.”

  “And here I thought humans worshipped the sun.” He shook his head, his large body crossing the room to wrangle the shade. “Makes me tired, that’s all I know.”

  “What’s with the knitting?” I asked sleepily, shifting to the center of the pillow. It felt like my veins were filled with lead. It hurt just to be awake.

  As Charles sat back down, he said, “What do you mean?”

  “Only old women knit.”

  “Well, now, that’s just rude. And not true. I have made many a fine scarf, which I will prove by knitting you a fine scarf.”

  I shook my head, a smile working onto my face. I meant to ask if he was guarding me, or comforting me until I felt better, but sleep pulled me under before I could harvest another thought.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Ready?” Charles asked, holding open the door.

  I’d spent two days on bed rest, letting my “natural resources” regenerate within the confines of my designated room within the mansion. That’s all Charles would tell me about my situation, “You were depleted, and you need to regenerate your natural resources. The Boss is powerful, but he isn’t a pack of gods.” Peppering him for information yielded no results, but plenty of requests for sex. Worse, I wasn’t even allowed to wander the halls or have a peek outside; I was on lockdown, Charles being my chatty and jolly jailer.

  When the order came down the line that I could go, which was ten minutes ago, I didn’t need to be told twice. I was tired of the constant surveillance, I wasn’t a huge fan of the scarf in progress—red and orange wouldn’t go with anything in my closet—and I needed some freedom. I needed my life back! This new world was interesting, and the prospect of having magic fascinated me, but I could only handle so many changes at one time. I needed a little time to get used to all this.

  “Ready, Freddy!” I snatched up my car keys.

  “Who’s Freddy?” Charles asked in confusion, guiding my arm toward the right.

  “Your momma.”

  “Is this some weird human joke?”

  “Yes, and you are the butt of it.”

  “Well, you are just a butt. Head!”

  “Terrible joke.”

  “You suck,” he pouted.

  “Now you’re just being mean.”

  We strolled at a measured pace through empty halls and rooms, the damage from a few nights ago greatly on the mend, the replaced furnishings a little more modern, but with the same quality.

  “Do you guys work? How do you afford all this?” I asked, scanning the art on the walls with interest. They were largely oil paintings, huge, and appeared expensive, though I was no art dealer. “And where is everyone?”

  “We are often left a portion of people’s estates—usually a new friend that happened to grow a firm attachment right before they died. We then have excellent investors and business personnel within our fold.”

  “Your fold?”

  “Yeah, you know, our bros. Anyway, if we don’t make it ourselves, kind humans are nice enough to donate it to us, and then we take great care of it. The Boss is excellent at management.”

  “Ah. And the half-naked people having loud, obnoxious sex that occasionally woke me up over the last couple days?”

  “Probably fully naked, and they are most likely sleeping. It’s late. Or early, depending on your take.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot you guys keep the opposite schedule.”

  “Better get used to it, because once you start testing for magic, you’ll have to change your sleeping schedule around. Thankfully! I’m not used to this. We need to get you in trouble soon so I have something to do.”

  As we emerged from the house, I stopped, preventing him from stepping outside with me. “What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t the Boss tell you? You’ll have to be tested for magic. We’ll bring you back here for that; but we can’t keep an assessing team up for you…”

  “No, I mean, why would my getting in trouble give you something to do?”

  Charles tilted his striking face, one shapely eyebrow quirking quizzically. “I’m confused.”

  “Because he’ll be keeping an eye on you,” said another voice.

  It felt like my stomach was on a rollercoaster, launching high into the air, and then plummeting a second later. I turned to the right slowly, my body tingling.

  The Boss stood next to me, having snuck up without a sound. He wore a vest, his bare arms cut and defined, circled by those swirling, and sometimes vicious looking, tattoos. His perfect face was turned down to me, his eyes squinting in the noon sun, but the velvety black within sucking me in and turning my chest to goo.

  I unconsciously stepped forward, my body too weak to resist the pull. The invisible string attaching our bodies tugged, warming my limbs.

  A female throat cleared as my eyes held his. Only then did I realize someone stood next to him. A distractingly beautiful woman, over six feet tall, glared down at me, her dark brown eyes hard. It was then I noticed the red high heels, the same ones I noticed when I was under the desk a few days ago and she was with someone that was not the Boss.

  The way she was standing, though, pushed in close to the Boss’s side, her chest angled toward him, immediately registered as having a claim on him. Or wanting one. Being that the Boss allowed the body proximity, I got the impression the feeling was mutual.

  A surge of jealousy reared its head as I took a shuffling step backward, backing down from her territorial stare.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Boss?” Her voice was melodic—if playing a xylophone made of icicles could be called musical.

  The Boss, apparently having a real name, glanced at her before focusing on me again. “No, she is unimportant.” To me, he said, “Charles will be watching you. Our memory charms don’t seem to stick, which means you’re a liability to our lifestyle. I cannot risk a loose mouth. Should you decide to mention us to anyone—including your boyfriend—I will kill you and the receiver of information. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Wow, when did you become such a jerk?” I muttered, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

  “An occasional side effect of power,” Charles commented absently. He quickly lowered his eyes and hunched within Stefan’s hard stare, trying to turn invisible.

  Black eyes flashed back to me. “I will contact you in a few weeks for testing. Stay out of trouble.”

  He walked into the house, his back straight and muscled, the memory of his handsome face etched into my consciousness, quickly ruined by the slinky body and condescending stare of his lady love as she followed him inside.

  “What’s her problem?” I muttered in a sulky tone.

  “First off, she’s a bitch.” Charles stepped outside and immediately fastened some sunglasses on my face.

  “I don’t need—“

  “Shush, the sun is hard on the ol’ peepers. C’mon.” Charles gave me a shove in the direction of my car across the street, a few new scratches worked down the side of the fading red paint. He put his own sunglasses on, following me, before saying, “Second, she is probably going to be mated to that unlucky bastard—don’t tell him I called him a bastard—and is most likely pissed that he gave some dumb human blood but won’t pony up to her. No offense. You’re not dumb, but she probably doesn’t care. Anyway, she is an ambitious little soldier—she tries to use her beauty and great knack-in-the-sack to suck as much blood as possible to improve from red level to orange. People are on to her, but she can be…persuasive. I steer clear.

  ”Unfortunately for the Boss, she is prime real estate for a baby maker. She’s had one miscarriage already, her mother had two kids, and her grandmother had three. Good blood line. And you know, there’s the beauty, and the swirly hip thing she does, and her father is high in politics—she’s the best choice in a textbook sort of way. Although, you don’t seem to read your textbooks, so I guess you wouldn’t subscribe to the same views.”

  “She miscarried his baby? That’s a good thing? Also…what the hell does baby making have to do with marriage? Don’t you people like each other?”

  Charles laughed as he folded into my car. “It probably wasn’t his that she miscarried; but yes, it’s good. It means she is fertile. He is powerful and our leader, he needs offspring. He also needs stability and a co-leader. She can provide all that. Just sucks she’s a bitch, know what I mean? Hot, though.”

  “So…you guys have sex all the time, not protected, and get excited when you randomly get pregnant, father unknown?”

  “Humans wouldn’t understand—you guys breed like rabbits. You so much as look at each other with heat and you get pregnant.”

  “So, you’re probably super sexual because of a need to reproduce?” I guessed.

  “No, Dr. Over-Analyze-Everything, it feels good. But we don’t protect ourselves hoping we can work up a little procreation. Otherwise, we are just a dying breed of amaze-balls.”

  “Seriously, how old are you?” I mumbled, turning into my parking spot. “And more importantly, where do you plan to sleep?”

  “In human years, probably about sixteen. In our years, I’m thirty-eight. And in your bed. With you. Naked.” He waggled his eyebrows, probably trying for some sort of suggestive turn-on.

  It had the opposite effect. “You aren’t sleeping with me, and do you use human years like we use dog years?”

  “If the shoe fits.”

  I shook my head. There was no point trying to figure out the fork in the evolutionary road all in one sitting. Especially with the equivalent of a teenage boy. I cut our dialogue off by calling him a douche.

  As I got out of the car, I restarted the conversation with, “Why was Stefan such a dick to me?”

  “Eh,” Charles waved the comment away with his hand. “He’s just trying to be all big-time and all that. He’s cool on a personal level, but a little stressed out and bitchy when he’s got a lot of people following him around. Plus, I don’t think he knows what the hell to do with you. You’re a complete anomaly, and he doesn’t like unexplained crap. Freaks him out. Although, admitting that would basically be saying he’s a weak Nancy-boy, which would then make him have to kill somebody to set the record straight, so…yeah, he can be a dick.”

  “You need to work on summarizing.”

  “You need to work on opening your legs. Crap, I forgot how small this apartment is.”

  I woke up slowly, something eating away at my conscious mind, dragging my thoughts out of the dream world. Someone panted, as though in pleasure. A small sound, like a continual slide of hand on soft velvet, drifted to me from the floor.

  “Charles?”

  The sound stopped. “Yeah?” The sound started up again.

  I sprang to a seated position, spying Charles lying on his blow-up mattress with the sheets around his ankles, his fist pumping his large erection.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I screeched.

  He stopped again, hand halfway down his shaft. He blinked up at me, his well-built chest halfway lifted off the mattress. “What do you mean?”

  “Are you masturbating?”

  He shook his head with a dramatic eye blink, ending with wide, disbelief filled eyes. “I’m certainly not trying to rip my cock off. What else would I be doing with it?”

  “Well cut it out! I’m in the same room, for God sakes. What’s wrong with you?”

  “For one, I have to do this myself. What has my life come to that I can’t get someone to play with my bells and whistle? Wait, speaking of whistle, didn’t you say you had one? ‘Cause I bet this blows the same as that. Care to try it out?”

 

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