Page 57 of One Bad Knight
Until I met you, I thought, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
“How old were you?” Kat asked in a quiet voice, her fingers lightly stroking the thickened tissue.
“Eleven.”
She sucked in a breath. “You were so young.”
“That’s not the point. I’d been trained for years, but in the moment, I faltered. I couldn’t do the one thing that was supposedly my entire purpose. You’ve been training too, but when the moment comes, we aren’t always ready for it.”
“You always seem ready to jump in and save the day.” Before I could tear down her ridiculous fantasy, she went on. “You protected those people in the coffee shop from those creepy pixies. You saved me from the She, and now from Jimi and a hellhound.”
My voice dropped as I confessed. “The hellhound wouldn’t have come if I had kept my distance. It was tracking me, not you.”
Kat stilled, before bringing her head up so she could look at me. “Why was it tracking you?”
“Someone sent it after me.”
“The demon,” she said knowingly.
It wasn’t the right time to explain the monster’s methods, so I sidestepped her statement. “When the demon dog saw you vulnerable and bleeding, it went for you. If I’d stayed away, you wouldn’t have been in danger.”
She tried to sit up, but I wouldn’t let her. “If you had stayed away, Jimi would have really gotten what he wanted, and I would be in a hell of a lot worse shape.”
I held her tight to me, as she shuddered. I couldn’t even think about what almost happened. It made me want to pull that fucker’s corpse out and smash it into bits all over again.
Soon Kat’s breath evened out, and I found myself drifting off.
Just when I thought she’d fallen asleep, Kat spoke in a sleepy voice without opening her eyes. “Maybe you've been looking at your magic through the wrong lens. You said your magic is a result of a strong belief you hold. You believe you are a killer, and a demon. But I think you are a protector, a healer. Every time I’m with you, my scratches or cuts heal. Warmth spreads to the coldest, darkest parts of me. You do have magic. You just don’t know how to believe in the best parts of yourself.”
I drew her closer to me still. The only thing I believed was that heaven existed in her arms. And that this bliss wouldn’t last. But right now, I could pretend life wasn’t a nightmare and sleep with the girl who’d given me the first kindness I’d ever known, and inspired the fiercest passion in this or any dimension.
24
Kat
Iwoke with my nose buried in Gatsby’s warm, naked chest. With a deep inhale, I surrounded myself in his comforting masculine smell that had only intensified in sleep.
Sunlight filled the room even through the tarp-covered, broken window. His face smoothed in slumber, and again I saw the little boy who had come into my home. I pushed back the hair that had fallen over his forehead and into his eyes. He let out a low contented moan but didn’t wake.
Despite the horrible events of the previous night, I felt as though I’d been dipped into a large vat of warm honey and healed from the inside out. I meant what I said last night. Though it took me time to absorb the nearly impossible fact, Gatsby healed me on more than one occasion. In more than one way. I had no doubt he was the cause for my feelings of renewal.
It made his belief that he only destroyed all the more heartbreaking.
I elongated into a full body stretch, curling my toes, pressing deeper into his hard body. His arm tightened around me, as if he were worried I would try to get away. A sly smile formed on my face as I managed to slip out of his grasp anyway. I wriggled down, until I met with his morning hardness. In this light, I marveled at the perfection of his length and even the coloring of his erection. Unable to help myself, I engulfed his mushroom tip into my mouth, suckling on his salty skin. A moan purred through me as I reveled in his taste. Gatsby’s hips automatically rocked farther into my mouth, and I took him in.
A half pant, half growl alerted me that Gatsby was awake. I smiled around his delicious cock as I wrapped a hand around the base and stroked him up and down.
Strong fingers tunneled into my hair, massaging my scalp as I took my time tasting, playing, and exploring what made his hips jerk, or what drew out a long deep moan. Taking him in all the way to the back of my throat, I sped up until Gatsby was desperate to pull me away. I knew he was close, but I wouldn't stop for anything. In moments, he cried out, gripping my head forcing me to take him farther as he came. I greedily swallowed his dark, salty desire.
When I pulled away, Gatsby stared down at me in sheer wonder and reverence. I wiped the corner of my lips and shot him a sassy smile. In a moment, he hoisted me up, positioning me over him, knees on either side of his face. He devoured my lower lips like a starving man, plunging his tongue deep in me and sucking on my sensitive bud. I grabbed his hair and rode his face until I threw my head back, shuddering as spasms of pleasure wracked me.
We spent the rest of the day on the mattress, alternately making love and sleeping in each other’s arms. Only once did Gatsby leave and bring back big piping-hot bags filled with enough cheese burgers and fries to feed an entire family, along with oversized bottles of water so we could rehydrate.
When the sun began to set, I knew I’d have to go home sooner or later. Who knew an abandoned, dilapidated apartment with a lone mattress could feel like a sanctuary.
“I don’t want to go back,” I confessed into the crook of Gatsby’s shoulder. The scent of our lovemaking smelled intoxicating on his skin. “But I already asked our housekeeper to take care of Bear once today. I need to go back and do it myself now. Plus, he gets anxious when I’m gone too long.”
Though I couldn’t see Gatsby’s face, I could sense him deliberating something.