Night of the Tiger(52)

Roric growled, sliding one hand lower, letting his fingers stroke over her clit, a light whisper, barely a touch. Yet it was like adding gasoline to an already out-of-control inferno.

Everything inside her exploded in a flash of light. Aimee cried out as her orgasm overtook her. She heard Roric yell, felt the hot jets of semen spurt deep as he came, pushing her orgasm to another level. She chanted his name over and over. Her body shook uncontrollably, but his strong arms held her as wave after wave of pleasure rocketed through her.

Aimee plastered her hands against the wall, her breathing coming in hard, sharp gasps. She rested her forehead between her hands and concentrated on recovering from the shockingly powerful orgasm.

She heard Roric’s heavy breath, felt it against the curve of her neck. His lips grazed her nape. His cock gradually grew less rigid and he finally withdrew, sending an aftershock of pleasure rushing through her.

Her left leg was quivering, the muscles protesting the unfamiliar activity she’d just put them through. It buckled beneath her, but she transferred her weight to her other leg and remained upright. Roric held her easily, lending her his strength as she awkwardly yanked her jeans back into place.

Now that the passion was fading, she couldn’t believe she’d had unprotected sex yet again. She mentally shrugged. At this point it didn’t matter anyway. He didn’t have any diseases and neither did she. If she lived past today, she’d worry about the consequences of her actions. Until then, she’d take her pleasure wherever she could get it.

Taking a deep breath, she plastered what she hoped was a calm expression on her face and turned. Roric was watching her, a solemn expression on his face.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded. “You?”

He gave her a curt nod as he shoved his hand through his hair. The laces of his leather pants were tightened, but not tied. The black T-shirt he wore clung to every inch of his muscled torso. His arms and face were slick with perspiration, making it shimmer. He looked like a cover model for a sexy women’s magazine. Her artist’s eye catalogued every inch of him. She wanted to be able to sketch him when he was gone. Assuming they both survived, that is.

She sensed he didn’t want to talk about what had happened between them any more than she did. Happy to oblige him, she once against surveyed the destruction in her living room. Right in the center of the room, on a piece of undamaged flooring, sat the scroll. How had they missed that before?

Roric saw it at the same time she did. He swore under his breath and stalked forward, grabbing up the parchment. “We need to study this. I need to know exactly what Hades wants with me. I have a feeling our grace period just ran out.”

“Umm, you can help yourself to more coffee or juice or something. I’m going to get cleaned up.” Before he could offer a protest, she hurried off as fast as her legs would carry her. The stairs were hard, but she made them. And not once did she look back.

She needed to get her head screwed back on straight. Sex couldn’t happen again. There was no point to it. Well, there was pleasure, but it was what came with the pleasure that was the problem. With each passing moment they spent together, she felt invisible bonds closing around her, ensnaring her.

She didn’t think Roric was doing anything magical to bind them together, but that didn’t mean someone else wasn’t. A shiver raced down her spine, leaving her feeling cold. What if Hades was somehow manipulating them, using her as a tool to distract Roric from his mission? What if she was being used as the instrument to destroy him?

Resolve filled her as she strode into the bathroom. She wouldn’t let that happen. No matter what happened in the end, she would do everything in her power to help him. Even if it meant her life.

Roric’s mission was important and noble. His life was important to the world. What would happen if Hades were able to take total control? Memories of her nightmares snaked through her brain. She could all too easily picture the world overrun with demons and evil creatures of all sorts. It wouldn’t be pleasant by any means.

On the other hand, she had no family, no friends, no lover or children depending on her. Maybe this was the reason she’d been spared in the car accident that had taken her parents’ lives. Maybe it was her destiny to be involved with Roric and the war with Hades.

And maybe she’d done the artwork for too many graphic novels and comic books. This was real. When people died it was for forever. There was no coming back. Not for her.

Her jeans and sneakers were fine, but her top was a mess. She smelled of sweat, soot and sex. She wrinkled her nose as she stripped off her sweater and bra and dumped them in the hamper, unable to believe she’d shut out the destruction, the smells and the memories of what had happened in her living room long enough to have sex with Roric. And not just any sex. Fantastic sex. It boggled the mind.