Bullet Chapter 41


41

I REALIZED THAT without the ardeur I didn't want to have sex in the bare living room with the only main door from the upper areas forcing people to walk right by us. I'd gotten better at being nude in front of people, but it didn't do anything for me. I was just never going to be the exhibitionist that some of my boyfriends were, but since Micah wasn't an exhibitionist, and Asher had issues because of his scars, going to the bedroom worked for all of us. Mephistopheles was fine once I took him by the hand and made it clear we weren't stopping, just finding privacy.

It was too late for Jean-Claude and Richard even if they'd wanted privacy. Envy's face and body language as they held her between them said she was too far gone to stop. If I'd been the woman in the middle and they'd tried to make me stop, I'd have been pissed. I paused, unsure whether I needed to explain to Jean-Claude and Richard where we were going. Asher and Micah waited just ahead of me; Mephistopheles waited with his hand in mine. Nathaniel was just behind me. I had one of those Miss-Manners-doesn't-cover-it moments. Do you need to tell Boyfriend A and Boyfriend B that you're leaving not because you don't want to see them have sex with another woman, but because you'd rather not get all naked and fuck in front of anyone who might happen to walk through the door?

I'd never watched any of my men with another woman. I'd never really seen them this completely comfortable with anyone but me. I think Jean-Claude would have been more comfy with the other men, but he was always very careful with their comfort level; for the first time with Richard they were doing something that they could both just enjoy. No being careful was needed, and it showed. With the heels Envy was as tall as Jean-Claude, so he'd bent her body backward just a little; his hand cupped her chin, fingers tracing the long curve of her neck, her hair pushed to one side  by his arm coming around her neck. His other arm was around her waist helping bow her body just that slight curve backward, tilting her lower body forward so that the long naked line of her was held out for Richard. He knelt at her feet, the summer brown of him looking even darker against all that pale skin. His mouth was pressed between her legs, his hair forward so I couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but I knew. One hand was between her thighs, and the other was curved around the outside of the other leg. Between the two of them they had her legs spread wide, so that she was unsteady on the tall silver stilettos. I realized that Jean-Claude was holding most of her weight, because between the two of them they had her completely off balance, but she wasn't complaining. Her eyes were closed, mouth half-parted, her breathing fast and faster, making her breasts rise and fall frantically.

She was a better height for them both. I'd have been too short to be stretched between them on my feet. There was something graceful in the curves of her body between them. She screamed, her body bucking. Richard pressed himself tighter against her, and Jean-Claude's mouth closed over the strained curve of her neck. Her body spasmed between them, and Jean-Claude rolled just his eyes up to look at me over the line of her neck. I looked into those dark blue eyes. His eyes bled to midnight fire as I watched. I gave a small wave and led the rest toward the bedroom. It looked like a lot of fun, but I wanted more privacy.

Nicky followed us, but Dino stayed. It was Wicked who fell in beside Nicky to guard us. I thought they meant to take up posts by the door like they did when I was with Jean-Claude and the rest, but they followed us into the bedroom. I turned and said, "If I'd wanted an audience I'd have stayed outside."

"He looks tame, but he's an unknown weretiger who's been trained in combat by some very good warriors. We can't let you be with him the first time with no one in here to guard you."

"What, I'm like royalty, I have to have witnesses to the bedding process?"

"They didn't insist on witnesses just because of some old-fashioned idea that if it wasn't witnessed it wasn't real, Anita. Sometimes they put witnesses in the room so that one half of the new royal couple couldn't accidentally injure or kill the other," Wicked said.

I looked at him, and my face must have asked for me.

"Not everyone was happy with their arranged marriages," he said.

I thought about that for a moment, then shook my head. "I don't know what to say to that."

"Don't say anything; just know that Nicky and I will be by the door keeping everyone safe. We'll just be on this side of the door."

"Yeah, we would suck as bodyguards if we let you get hurt because we were too pussy to watch," Nicky said.

I frowned at him.

He grinned. "But if you want me to do more than guard, you know all you have to do is ask. I'll be happy to lend an extra hand or mouth."

I frowned harder at him, but he knew I didn't mean it, not really, because his grin got wider. If he'd really thought I was mad at him he'd have reacted to it, because he had to. He was designed to make me happier, not unhappy. It was all very reasonable, the guards on this side, as I looked up at six feet of muscle that was still holding my hand. Even if he'd been just human, he would have outweighed me by a lot, but he wasn't human, and that made him potentially very dangerous. I agreed with their guarding us in principle, but in actuality something about the walk here and the talk with them had taken some of the shine off the mood for me.

Micah came to me. He hugged me, kissed my cheek, and whispered, "You're thinking too hard."

I turned with a frown, but staring into his face from this close I couldn't keep it. I felt my face soften, felt some of the strain slip away. I hugged him back, leaving Mephistopheles standing by himself while I wrapped myself around Micah and let him wrap himself around me. I held on, trying to decide why I was suddenly so tense.

Had it bothered me to see Jean-Claude and Richard with another woman? No. And then it hit me: What bothered me was that it hadn't bothered me, and I felt vaguely like it should have, and more than that I thought Envy looked beautiful stretched between them. The thought of them doing the same to one of the other men while I watched tightened things low in my body, so I found that more titillating, but I hadn't found Envy stretched between them unappealing. Was I having a homophobic moment? Was that really what was wrong? Or did I just think that I should have been jealous, and was surprised that I wasn't?

I whispered into the thick fall of his hair, "I think I'm bothered that I'm not bothered."

He drew away enough to see my face. "Two years of being with you and I actually understand that."

I frowned at him.

He laughed. "Anita, you've never seen any of us with another woman. You think you should be jealous, but you weren't."

I shrugged, and moved a little way away from him. I took a deep breath and said, "And I'd like to see that with one of you guys in the middle, and that bothers me, and she wasn't . . . she was beautiful." I frowned and looked at him.

He smiled and moved toward me. "You're bothered that you liked seeing another woman like that?"

"I think so, or I'm bothered that it didn't bother me. Oh, hell, I don't know."

"Being bothered about seeing same-sex fun and games, welcome to our world." He tried to hug me, but I stepped out of reach.

"Does it bother you?" I asked.

"No," Nathaniel said. He came up to both of us. "We are not going to do this tonight."

"What?" I asked.

He took me in his arms. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," I said, but I was studying his face, because I wasn't sure where we were going.

"But you are trying to talk yourself out of sex."

"I'm not," I said, but I looked away, because he was right.

"Are, too," he said.

I looked up and found him smiling at me. I didn't want him to smile at me. I didn't like the feeling that they were both more reasonable than I was. I didn't like being treated like the difficult one. Of course, if the shoe fits . . . but this particular size-seven stiletto pinched.

"I guess I am," I said.

"Please, don't," he said.

I hugged him, resting my head in the curve of his shoulder. "Something hit an issue," I said.

He kissed my head, stroking his hand over my hair. "I know, but we need to bring Mephistopheles over."

I raised my head and looked at him. "What do you mean, bring him over?"

"Make him yours, ours."

I narrowed my eyes.

"It's important, Anita."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure, but I know that for me and for Damian the sex was part of the binding. We needed it to complete it. Maybe because sex is how you feed your vampire. To make him yours, you need to feed on him."

"But . . . ," I started to say.

Micah came in behind me. He insinuated his body against the back of mine, his arms sliding around me and as far around Nathaniel as he could reach so that I was sandwiched between them. I felt myself relax almost immediately.

Micah whispered, "We need to make certain that any new wereanimals or vampires, especially powerful ones, are completely ours, Anita."

"Do you really think that if I'd fucked Haven sooner he wouldn't have gotten out of control?"

They both hugged me tighter, but it was Micah who said, "I don't know. Maybe he would have never been content with sharing you, but I know sex is the glue that binds Jean-Claude's line of vampires together. We need to play to our strengths, sweetheart. We don't have time to pretend we aren't what we are."

I tensed in their arms, started to try to push away from them, but forced myself not to. I made myself take a deep, slow breath, and another. I didn't relax, but I didn't fight, either.

"Tell me you don't want to have sex with us, and we won't have sex," he said softly.

"You know that would be a lie," I said, almost a whisper.

"Tell me you don't find the weretiger attractive, and you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Tell me you don't want him, and this stops here, but if you want him the way I felt you want him, then don't lie to yourself, or to him. Want him or don't want him, but if you want him, let yourself want him."

I swallowed and it almost hurt, like I was trying to swallow something hard. I turned and looked at Mephistopheles. His upper body was smooth and muscled, and beautiful. He didn't have the muscle definition that some of the men in my life did, but the promise of it was all there in the muscled rise of his trapezius at the top of his shoulders by the wide, strong neck. He had the beginnings of a six-pack-like lines you could trace on his skin. His yellow hair was very straight, and I realized that the soft blond wasn't just blond but had streaks of cream and almost white in it so the yellow was  even more subdued. Both Pride's and Envy's yellow had been brighter. Mephistopheles could have passed for human easily with a different name. The name sounded like something you'd pick as a teenager when you went through the wearing-black-and-writing-death-poetry stage. It didn't match someone who looked so college-normal.

Even his eyes with their circle of blue around the pupil and the ring of pale, pale, golden brown around the outer edge weren't that far outside human-normal. The biggest difference was his skin's pale gold color. It was probably permanent. But again it could be a pale summer tan.

He was one of those tall men who seem big; maybe it was the shoulders, or that wide chest, but he was someone you wouldn't forget was physically big. Nicky and Richard were broader through the shoulders, but they hit the weights more. Mephistopheles had the potential to be a really big guy.

"You look like you're making a list," he said.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You're looking at me, but you're not seeing me."

That was actually a smart thing to say. It made me think better of him, and of his chances of fitting in here. Smart was good, because a pretty package without it had never moved me much.

"I'm sorry, you're right. You are handsome, cute, whatever, but I just met you minutes ago and I'm not usually that quick without metaphysical interference."

"If the ardeur is what you need, then I'm okay with that." He walked toward us slowly, as if he didn't want to spook me. "Whatever you need, Anita. Whatever you want, just tell me."

I turned but couldn't see Micah with him at my back, and had to move out of their double hug, so I could see Micah's face. "What did you do?" I asked.

"I just wanted someone easy to deal with, someone who wants to fit in, who wants to be here."

"Were you thinking that while we put energy through him?"

"Yes."

Mephistopheles said, "You said that the rest of the tigers are looking for someone who smells like home."

I turned so I could see him. He was almost to us now. He reached out for me, again slowly, as if he were waiting for me to say, Stop. "But the gold tigers aren't looking for a home." His fingers traced the edge of my jaw,  and when I didn't say no, his hand slid back around my neck. His hand was big enough that he encircled the back of it with inches to spare. He was so warm.

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

"A master." He began to bend over me, again slow, giving me plenty of time to protest.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"Pride and some of the others said we should be our own master, that we're stronger than most vampires in power, and maybe we are." His face was so close that his hair spilled forward to tickle along my cheeks. "But I don't want to be stronger than you. I don't want to fight you. It feels like I've been waiting my whole life to belong." His mouth hovered over mine.

I whispered into his lips, "To belong to what?"

"To you," and he kissed me. He kissed me and his mouth tasted like honey.

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