Silvia Day (12 page)

Aidan, the mystery man, who acted as if they had been dating forever and said next to nothing about himself.

He was right. They needed to talk, because she needed answers.

Dried and dressed, her mouth watering at the thought of hot fresh coffee, Lyssa found her living room restored to its former furniture arrangement and Aidan leaning like a sex god against the counter, laughing into the phone.

She paused, arrested by the sound, one that was both deep and light, and endlessly seductive. It was the kind of rumbling laughter that made a woman think of passionate play in bed, rolling and laughing amid warm tumbled sheets, lost in the moment.

His mouth curved on one side as he stared at her, his gaze dipping to cruise the length of her body, heating her blood. “Here she is, Cathy,” he murmured, straightening. “All in one piece, and looking amazing.”

Lyssa’s eyes widened. She’d thought he was talking to a friend. Maybe letting someone know he had arrived without trouble. She never would have guessed her mother.

She stepped closer, and he covered the receiver with his hand. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I was going to ignore it. Then she threatened to call the police if you didn’t pick up.”

Shaking her head, Lyssa collected the phone, trying to ignore the thrill she felt when their fingers touched. She turned away from him to hide her reaction. “Hi, Mom.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing.” She jumped as strong hands clasped her waist. Then firm, warm lips pressed against the side of her neck. She leaned backward, soaking up his attention.

“I’m sweaty,” he whispered, stepping back. But his touch didn’t leave her. “We really need to talk, Lyssa.”

She nodded her understanding.

“Don’t tell me ‘nothing,’” her mother chastised with unmistakable eagerness. “Who is Aidan?”

Lyssa thought about that a moment, and then, feeling impish, she thrust her hips back and brushed against Aidan’s cock. His breath hissed out between his teeth, and he released her.

“Cold shower for me,” he muttered, heading for the stairs. “You’re paying for that later.”

Laughing, Lyssa said into the phone, “He’s an old friend.”

“From where? He sounds Irish.”

“Delicious, isn’t it? I’ve always loved men with accents.”

“Why haven’t I met him before?” Cathy asked in an accusatory tone.

“Long-distance. Besides, I’m old enough to have friends you don’t vet first.”

“I want to meet him.”

“I’m sure you do.” Lyssa glanced at the clock. “Oh crap! It’s ten. I’m due at the clinic. I gotta go.”

“Lyssa Ann Bates! You can’t—”

Dropping the receiver in the cradle, Lyssa turned too quickly and knocked her purse to floor. She retrieved it and was about to toss it onto the counter when a twinkle of colored light drew her eye. It was then she noted the slim, jewel-encrusted volume on the counter below the bar. For a moment, Lyssa could only stare at it in awe. Then she gripped her purse tighter with one hand, while reach
ing out tentatively for the book with the other. Lifting it, she revealed another beneath that one, though the second volume lacked ornamentation and had only a worn, leath-erlike cover.

She wasn’t a jeweler, didn’t even own that many pieces of jewelry, but she knew, just
knew
, that she was staring at something priceless. Guessing the age of the odd, almost-material-feeling paper and seeing the foreign text, Lyssa couldn’t help but wonder what these books were doing outside a museum. She examined every page of the jeweled volume, ran her fingertips over every illustration, and understood nothing. But the worth of both books was firmly established in her mind, which left a troubling question—what was Aidan doing with them?

Suddenly the oddness of his unannounced appearance at her door, feverish and without luggage, wearing clothes far too big and telling her far too little, struck home with enough force to make her gasp and lean against the breakfast bar.

Who the hell was the sword-wielding man in her shower, and what the fuck did he want with her?

Determined to tackle her gorgeous problem head on, Lyssa took the stairs two at a time. She sprinted into her room just in time to catch a still wet Aidan stepping naked from the bathroom, his arms lifted to towel-dry his hair, his pectorals and abs flexing in a way that made her mouth water. She skidded to a halt. “I…you…you’re…Oh man…yum…”

She sputtered into silence as he grew hard right before her eyes.

He heaved out a sigh, and his arms fell to his sides. “I just got rid of that.”

She swallowed hard, images flooding her mind of how he might have done that. Water beating down, soap-slick hands stroking the throbbing length of him, pumping with a primitive rhythm until he spurted his lust down the drain. She knew how that beautiful cock felt in her hands, how thick and hard it was when erect. Shit, it looked great pre–hard-on. How many men could say that?

He has a freckle on his right hip.

Her gaze flew to the spot, and her mouth fell open at the sight of the tiny little brown circle. Then she pulled herself together. She could have taken note of it in the shower. Remembering it didn’t mean anything.

“Don’t worry.” His voice, low and husky, slipped into her musings. “There’s more than enough left for you.”

God, she loved the way he talked, how open he was about his sexuality and his desire for her. Had he approached her this way before? In a club, perhaps, when she’d been younger? She had been wild in college, skating through her school day and partying hard at night. She imagined the scene—dressed in shorts and backless tank, leaning against the bar, shouting her drink order at the bartender so she could be heard over the pulsing music. Then Aidan’s hands at her hips, his erection at her lower back, his mouth to her throat as he had done downstairs. Before he led her away…

Was that how it had happened? She tried so hard to recall. Regardless, her body remembered his, even if her mind didn’t.

He moved toward her with silent grace, one arm circling her waist, his other hand thrusting through her wet hair, angling her head to better fit her lips to his. He took her mouth with lush, deep licks of his tongue, making her shudder and clutch at his wet back.

“What are you thinking about when you look at me like that?” he asked in a voice dripping sin.

“Huh…?” She wasn’t thinking about anything; he’d fried her brain with that kiss.

“How dirty was the sex?” He tugged her hips into his,
making certain she felt every hot, throbbing inch of him. His large hand cupped the back of her head; his mouth brushed against her ear. “Was I fucking you yet? Or just about to?”

“Aidan…” she moaned, tormented by her lustful body and his raw, heated seduction. “It’s so good between us, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, her fingertips kneading restlessly into the hard muscles of his back.

“The best,” he said hoarsely.

She nodded. “Is that why you came? To see if it’s as good as you remembered? Is this just a booty call sort of thing?”

Will there be more? Or just this?
Already the thought of his leaving made her chest tight.

He tucked her flushed face in the crook of his neck. “No, no, and no. Do you have time to talk?”

Sighing, she shook her head. “I have to go to work. I’m late.”

“Can I come with you?”

For a moment she paused. What was she supposed to do with him? She needed some distance so she could think. Maybe do some investigating. Call some old friends. See if anyone else remembered Aidan. “It would be better if I went alone. I’ll be busy, and I’m sure there are things you have to do while you’re in town.”

“There are things you need to know.”

You don’t date seriously, you’re not looking for a girlfriend, no attachments. It’s just sex.

“Please, Lyssa.”

The strength of her déjà vu was overwhelming. And
painful. A one-night stand. That’s what they’d had. That’s all Aidan wanted.

He leaned back. “Don’t shut me out. Listen to what I have to tell you.”

She looked up at him, saw the brief flare of longing that he quickly hid with a crooked smile, and knew she had no choice. “Yeah, get dressed and…Crap. You don’t have anything to wear.” Lyssa wrinkled her nose. “Any idea when the airline is going to deliver your stuff?”

Then she thought about their situation, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How did you know where I lived?”

“You told me,” he said simply, his hands stroking down her back.

“You should have called before you showed up.”

He nuzzled his nose against hers, rubbing his body all over her. “I know.”

“How long are you planning to stay?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” he murmured, his mouth brushing back and forth across hers.

She sighed, too tired to fight the feeling that she belonged in his arms. “We have to go. I’m going to be so late.”

Aidan nodded, pulling back to retrieve the sweats from where he’d tossed them across the unmade bed. He tugged them on first, then a wicked-looking pair of combat boots that self-sealed with a simple tap of his fingertips.

When he stood, she crossed her arms and shook her head. “Neat boots, but you can’t go out like that.”

“Oh?” He arched a brow. “Why not?”

“It’s cold outside.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He was already damn fine with his luscious torso bared for all the world to see. A thick lock of dark hair hung over his brow, drawing attention to those beautiful eyes and sexy-as-hell lips. If they went outside with him looking like that, they would be mobbed by a pack of infatuated women.

Her lips pursed. “I’m not taking you around like that.”

Aidan frowned. “What do you want me to do?” Then his eyes widened and he crossed his arms, mimicking her pose. “Is this your way of saying you don’t want me to go with you?”

“No! Well…yes.” She tossed up her hands. “Maybe I can come back at lunchtime with something for you to wear? Then you can spend the rest of the day with me.”

“Remember what we talked about?” he asked grimly. “You be open with me. I do the same with you.”

Snorting out a laugh, Lyssa said, “Funny how that’s led to you knowing everything about me and me knowing jackshit about you.”

“I’m ready to talk anytime. Now would be good. You’re the one who’s got to fit me into her schedule.”

“You’re the one who invited himself over without a common courtesy call first!”

Aidan opened his mouth to retort, then blew out an exasperated breath. “You want to tell me why we’re arguing?”

“We’re not—” Lyssa stopped when he arched that brow at her again. She shrugged lamely. “I’ve got a problem with you being seen half naked, okay?”

He blinked. Then a slow, sinful grin spread across his features. “Are you feeling possessive, Hot Stuff?” he asked with laughter in his voice.

“No,” she lied, turning away and moving quickly toward the door. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be back around—”

He caught her with both arms around her middle, lifted her feet from the floor, and carried her out. Down the stairs they went, with him chuckling the whole way.

“What are you doing?” she asked in the sternest voice she could manage while grinning like an idiot. He was a big, brawny bully with an adorable smile and far too much arrogance.

She liked him. A lot.

“Coming with you. I’ll wear one of Mike’s lab coats, if that makes you feel better.”

She stiffened. “You know what? The stalkerlike amount of information you have about me is freaking me out.”

“I’m sure it is.” He stopped in front of the breakfast bar. “Grab your stuff.” She caught up her purse and keys. “And the two books right there.”

“Yeah, about these books. What the hell are they, Aidan, and why are they in my house?”

“They’re homework to keep me busy.”

She bit back a retort, and then found herself fighting to stay mad, which wasn’t easy while being carried around like a sack of potatoes. Aidan nipping at her neck didn’t help, either.

“Stop that! Watch where we’re going.”

He didn’t need the admonishment. He moved with unerring precision, clutching her with one arm while using the other hand to turn off the lights and coffeemaker, and
open the door to the garage.

“We’re putting the top up,” she muttered as she dropped into the driver’s seat, imagining stopping at a red light and the stares Aidan would elicit.

“You’re being silly.” He stilled her hand when she reached to engage the automatic soft top.

His mouth was a breath away from hers. He paused there, caging her in, making her wait. She could lean forward just that little bit and press her lips to his, but the need for answers and her growing unease were strong enough to hold her back.

Aidan hid his mounting frustration as Lyssa held out, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, but otherwise making no move to close the gap between them. He caught the seat belt, pulling it across her lap and snapping it into place. Then he gave her a quick buss on the lips, walked around the front end, and slid into the passenger seat.

She waited a moment, staring at him with those dark eyes that told him everything she was thinking. It was one of the many things he adored about her—the lack of guile. With her, he could just
be
. There was no mask to wear, no rigidity to maintain.

The relief of that was like a deep sigh after holding one’s breath too long, but the new wariness he felt in her made his entire body tense. Needing to hold her to him, Aidan reached out and laced his fingers with hers.

“You’re trouble with a capital T,” she murmured with a sigh.

“Wait until I’ve got you back in bed.”

He felt her shiver through their handclasp. Sweet Lyssa with the open-book smile did have some secrets, like her
hidden desire to be ridden hard and put away wet. He couldn’t help but wonder if any other man had taken the time to learn that about her. He would have eventually, even had he not been privy to her thoughts in her dreams. He was grateful, however, that he didn’t need to wait to find out. Their strongest tie was the desire her body remembered. He wouldn’t let her forget it.

In the meantime, they had to make it through the day, which so far had worked against him every step of the way. But he
would
get Lyssa alone, and he
would
tell her everything, just as soon as she slowed down long enough to listen. Needing his explanation to be both clear and believable, Aidan leaned his head back and closed his eyes, absorbing the feel of the morning air rushing over him.

It was a bit chilly, as she’d warned, but the warmth he felt inside from Lyssa’s repeated heated glances kept him comfortable. Beneath his left hand, he felt the books he’d brought from the Twilight. He hoped they would give him the answers he needed to keep Lyssa safe. Something, anything that could prove without a doubt either that there was no Key or, if the Elders were correct about its existence, that Lyssa wasn’t it.

Aidan cursed the fact that he hadn’t paid more attention during history lessons, but he had been young and randy. Ready to fight and fuck to his heart’s content. He hadn’t been mature enough to consider the future in all its many facets. He certainly hadn’t known that one day he would find someone who would remind him that he had deeper needs than carnal ones.

Lyssa kept her silence, making him wish he could read her thoughts as he had been able to do in the Twilight.
Her conscious mind was understandably confused, but her subconscious remembered him. He could only hope that would be enough to carry them through his explanations. He was going to sound like a madman.

“Talk to me,” he said in a low voice, just loud enough to be heard over the wind.

“Why don’t you do the talking?” she retorted. “Tell me how you know so much about me.”

He sighed. So that’s what she was thinking about.

Where to begin? Did he start with the part explaining he was an alien? Or did he begin with her being the prophesied destruction of two worlds?

Either way, she had to understand who he was and what he was doing, before common sense overrode her gut instincts and urged her to kick him out. He didn’t want to kidnap her or force her to do anything against her will. But he would, if doing so saved her life.

The Roadster pulled to an abrupt stop, ending that train of thought. Lifting his head and opening his eyes, Aidan saw the back door to the clinic just a few feet away. When Lyssa hopped out of the car, he leaned over and grabbed her wrist. “Can you get out of here early?”

She pursed her lush lips a moment and then nodded. “I’m going to try.”

“Hey. What’s going on?”
a voice called out.

Aidan kept his gaze trained on the woman of his dreams as guilt and confusion clouded her lovely features.

“Shit,” she breathed. “It’s Chad.”

Lyssa stared down at the half-naked wet dream in her passenger seat and told herself,
Wake up wake up wake up
…

Talk about a nightmare in broad daylight. How the hell was she going to explain this, when she had no idea what was going on herself? She had damp hair. Aidan did, too,
and
he was bare-chested. They looked guilty of everything they’d done.

“Uh…hate to interrupt, but Mrs. Yamamoto is starting to get pissy.” The sound of Stacey’s voice coming from the rear door of the clinic was such a relief, Lyssa decided to give her a raise. “She and her cat have been waiting almost twenty minutes.”

“I’m coming in now.” Taking a deep breath of courage, Lyssa tugged free of Aidan’s grip and faced a scowling Chad.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his gaze looking over her shoulder and then rising above her head as she heard the passenger door open and shut behind her.

“Chad, this is Aidan. He’s a…friend of my mom.” She adjusted her stance to see both men at once, and then cringed when she saw their aggressive postures. “Aidan, this is Chad.”

“Hi.” Chad thrust out his hand. “I’m Lyssa’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.”

The tensing of Aidan’s jaw was audible, but he reciprocated the gesture.

When Chad pulled his hand away he was flexing it, and Lyssa could only imagine how crushing Aidan’s grip had been.