Possessed By You (Overworld Underground Book 1) (36 page)

I tried on jeans first, much to his chagrin. He made me turn slowly in each pair, inspecting how they hugged my posterior before giving them his final rating. Whoever he'd hired to send the clothes had done a remarkable job in sizing them properly.

"Come hither," he said, as I tried on a particularly snug-fitting pair. I walked up to him, and he turned me by the waist to run a hand across my rump. "You have the sexiest ass, babe."

I didn't tell him I thought my rear was a bit too large for my tastes. If he liked it, I wasn't going to complain. "You can spank it whenever you wish." I teased his thick hair with my hand.

He grinned darkly. "Careful. I might just take you up on that offer."

"I fully expect you to."

He slid a hand under the loose T-shirt I wore, and pinched my nipple. It went hard at his touch. "Put these jeans in the 'yes' pile," he said in a husky voice. "And try something else on before I interrupt the fun."

I shivered as his fingers gently twisted my other nipple, and felt my legs press tight. "I have no problem interrupting fun with something even more fun."

He flipped me onto the bed in an instant, tearing off the jeans in one smooth move and tossing them to land in the 'Yes' pile without looking. His dark eyes devoured me. I untied the strings holding up his lounge pants, and pulled him to me.

By the time we finished our little romp, it was past lunchtime, and we'd worked up an appetite. Tyler ordered sushi with miso soup for lunch. It arrived in record time, thanks to the absurd premium he told them he'd pay for a quick delivery.

"You know how to order what I like," I said, as we sat in the kitchen and looked at the gray drizzly day.

He fed me a huge slice of sashimi salmon with his chopsticks, and laughed as I struggled to fit the entire piece in my mouth. "Perhaps I should have cut that," he said.

I tried to speak, but my mouth was quite full.

"Just chew, babe." He ran his thumb over my lips as I finally swallowed it down. "Your lips are so beautiful. I just want to suck on them every time I see them."

"They're yours to enjoy." I picked up a large chunk of sashimi tuna with my chopsticks. "Open wide."

He fended off my offering with his own chopsticks. "I don't believe I can handle as large a package in my mouth as you, Miss Glass."

My eyes widened in mock outrage. "You think so, Mr. Rock?" I pressed the chopsticks toward him, but he redirected the payload to my plate, and distracted me with a kiss.

We finished the meal, laughing and giggling like children in a food fight, and went back to the bedroom to finish the fashion show.

The skirts, it turned out, were his favorites. He mused over a black skirt with loose folds that flared when I spun in it.

"Please twirl again." His eyes grew hungry again.

I wasn't wearing any underwear, and it sent a naughty thrill through me to show him what lay beneath the skirt when I obliged his request. He sprang from the bed, and pulled me close, running a hand beneath the skirt to squeeze my bare bottom.

"You are so yummy." I kissed his bare chest.

He growled. "You're the yummy one."

"Moi?" I batted my eyelashes.

He threw me on the bed and buried his head beneath the skirt. His tongue pressed against my clitoris, sending hot waves up my legs. I didn't think I had another orgasm left in me, but my beautiful demi-god knew how to switch me on in an instant. I cried out as he brought me to climax.

After another delay, I concluded the fashion show with the long formal dresses.

"You look ravishing in every color," he said, admiring me in a curve-hugging black dress, "but purple and black are definitely my favorite colors on you."

"Why thank you, Mr. Rock. I do so aim to keep the boss happy."

He grinned, and pulled the skirt he'd ravished me in earlier from the 'Yes' pile. "I'd like you to wear this for dinner."

"Isn't it a bit cold for skirts?"

He pressed his bare chest against me. "I'll keep you warm."

As if in agreement, a hot flush spread through my body. "I have no doubt you will. What exactly are we doing this evening?"

He shrugged. "Something fun."

His phone rang, vibrating against the nightstand next to his bed. Tyler groaned and picked it up. "I thought I said no phone calls." He listened for a moment. "Fine. I trust your judgment. You vet them, make sure they're up to par, and I'll look over your report." He ended the call and set the phone back down.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"It was Joe. He's building my army."

Chapter 33

"Your army?"

Tyler chuckled. "My security detail to keep the Exorcists away."

A layer of tension seemed to slide off my body. He would be safe. "I'm glad. I think Joe knows what he's doing."

"I do too. That's why I hired him."

I sensed an opportunity to dig for more information, and took it. "Joe said you gave him a second chance. That he suffered from post-traumatic stress syndrome but you hired him anyway."

Tyler's cool green eyes regarded me for a moment. "He told you that?"

"I'm nosey."

"Determined to understand me?" His lips twitched upward in what I hoped was amusement.

"He said you gave him a second chance. I think it shows you care."

Tyler pressed his lips together. "I wish I could say that were true."

I felt my head flinch back in surprise. "Why else would you do it?"

"I was curious to see how he would perform. To see if he could succeed despite the demons plaguing him."

His impersonal answer left me cold. "Just curious? Is that how you feel about
us
?"

He shook his head. "No—well, yes. But it's so much more than that. I desire you every minute of the day. It's impossible to keep my hands off you."

I struggled to keep the disappointment and anger out of my voice. He'd explained this to me before, and I was only making myself angry. "What about when you took over Thomas Jones? You said you wanted to help him, to keep him from committing suicide."

"I thought it would be fun." His eyes narrowed. "Are you upset over the way I made my decision about Joe?"

"No," I said with some difficulty, feeling more disappointment than anger. "I just thought it meant you cared. I thought that's what it meant with Thomas Jones when you wanted to improve him."

He put a hand under his chin, eyes lost in thought for a moment. "I liked improving OnTech and Thomas's situation when I was him because it made me feel good." His eyes looked back at me. "But, Emily, most of that centered around me. About making me feel good. I wish I could truthfully say otherwise, but my motives were selfish."

Is he being selfish with me?
I looked at the closet full of clothes. At the "Yes" pile. At the rumpled covers on the bed where we'd made love—no—where we'd had sex over and over again. I looked back into the concerned eyes of the beautiful man on the bed.

Perhaps I'm being selfish too.

I wanted him to be mine. I wanted him to feel more for me than he did for a toy. I wondered if I could find answers—real answers—about his kind. I just had to know if it was possible to make this more than a fun sexual romp. To
change
him.

"You don't like seeing the truth about me." Sadness reflected in his eyes. "Please don't condemn me for it." He gripped my hands in his and kissed them. "It's what I am, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"You can't?" I felt my lower lip tremble. I bit my traitorous lip and looked away. "Or won't?"

"I want to more than anything," he said, his voice soft. He looked at the floor. "If I could be a normal human, if I could know love, I would do it in an instant." He released my hands and stood up, pacing away from me. "My friends said I was becoming weak like a human when I felt bad about what we were doing to people. When I tried to stop them. My father told me I was defective for feeling pity."

"Isn't pity like sympathy?" I asked, my heart aching and hoping to find some common thread to link him to me.

He shrugged. "I don't know. The people we used as playthings didn't deserve their fates. I know how it feels to be used like that. To be abused." His mouth clamped shut as if he'd said too much.

"Abused? How?"

He shuddered violently, and his face went absolutely white. "I—I can't talk about it." He strode into the bathroom and splashed water on his face, gulping air as if he couldn't get enough.

I placed an arm on his back. He threw my arm off and backed away, terror flashing in his eyes before he seemed to realize it was me.

"Oh God, Em, I'm sorry." He took a step forward, hands outstretched, as if afraid to touch me.

I took his hand and pressed it to my cheek. "It's okay, babe. We don't have to talk about it."

He closed his eyes, his breathing calmed as if my hand were a balm. "Maybe I should. Maybe it would help."

Seeing the lost look on his face brought tears to my eyes. What terrible things had they done to him? "I'm here whenever you want to try."

His eyes opened. They were dark and green like the middle of the deepest coldest ocean. "I will. I promise."

I nodded, unable to speak in the face of his forlorn expression. I heard my ringtone echoing from somewhere in the room, and found my purse under a pile of clothes. I looked and saw a missed call from an unknown number. I listened to the voicemail, and discovered it was from my father.

"Hey, sweetie. Your mother is in town, and we want to get together for dinner tomorrow evening if that's okay. I finally got a mobile phone. That's the number I'm calling from. I won't always have it turned on though." Dad chuckled. "Anyway, call me back so we can make plans. Love you. Bye."

"Who was it?" Tyler asked.

"My dad. He and my mum want to have dinner tomorrow." I gave him a sideways glance. "Would you like to meet them?"

He managed a smile. "Are we at that stage of the relationship?"

I laughed. It sounded like a crazy laugh. "I have no bleeding idea what stage we're at. But since I hardly get to see my parents these days, we might as well take the chance."

"I love it when you talk British to me," he said, some of his playfulness reasserting itself.

"Oh do you?" I let the full flavor of my natural accent come through. "Well, Mr. Rock, I can talk British all you like."

He shivered. "Do you have any idea what you do to me, Emily?"

I kissed him on the nose. "I'd better call Dad before we do something that makes me forget."

Tyler laughed, a boyish look back on his face. It warmed me to see that look again, instead of the lost, frightened man who'd taken his place moments ago.

Dad answered on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, Dad." A smile crept across my face. "Glad you finally joined us in the twenty-first century."

"It had to happen sooner or later."

I heard someone talking in the background. There was the sound of something rubbing against the microphone, and then another voice chimed in.

"Emily, dear, how are you?"

"Mum!" The sound of her steadfast voice made me realize how much I missed her, despite her bossiness. "I'm good. How are you?"

"Fine, dear." She sighed. "Patrick told me you didn't seem well when he visited. Is something the matter?"

My dad was far too observant for his own good. "I'm great."

"Well, that's good to hear. Shall we expect you for dinner tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'm bringing a friend with."

"Your roommate Isabel?"

"No." I paused, and regarded Tyler, unsure what I should call him. "My boyfriend."

Tyler's eyes brightened, and he beamed a wicked smile at me.

"You have a boyfriend?" Mum sounded surprised.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Mother."

"I see. Well, your father and I look forward to meeting Mr..." she trailed off expectantly.

"His name is Tyler."

"Very good. We'll see you tomorrow at Parker's on Ponce."

"That's a restaurant?"

"Of course, dear. It's in Decatur. Your father highly recommends it."

"Sounds good, Mum. Cheers."

"Good day, Emily."

I ended the call.

"She sounds like a proper British woman," Tyler said, his amused grin back in place.

"You could hear her?"

"Yeah." He tapped an ear. "Slightly better than normal hearing."

"And you know where this Parker's place is?"

He nodded. "It's fancy."

"Can you do me a favor?"

He kissed me. "Anything."

"Can we go in the BMW? I don't want my parents to get the wrong idea with the Lamborghini."

Tyler laughed. "They might think you're a gold digger?"

"No, no." I smiled. "They're not flashy people. They might get the wrong idea about you."

"Ah." His expression sobered. "So the gold-plated Rolls Royce is out too, then?"

I pushed him playfully. "Yes it is, Mr. Showoff."

A phone rang faintly from somewhere down the hall. Tyler looked confused for an instant before hopping up. "Guess that's my new phone. I'll be right back."

I started picking up clothes and hanging them after he disappeared down the hall. A moment later, I heard him talking. It sounded like business, judging from the financial terms being tossed around.

He appeared in the doorway holding the phone to his ear, and mouthed, "Work." I smiled, and licked my lips suggestively.

His eyes seemed to catch fire. Then he waggled his finger at me and walked back toward the kitchen.

My phone dinged. I picked it up and saw a message from George Walker.

We urgently need your help.

I sighed and walked around the room, trying to decide what to do. I couldn't simply leave Tyler, not now.

What's the emergency?

As I waited for the reply text, I began to think about my strange side job. Compared to discovering Tyler was demon possessed, hunting down people infected by a super-soldier serum seemed rather normal. Until recently, I hadn't been certain my sixth sense was a real thing. George Walker had shown me it was most definitely real and quite useful.