Bound Together (Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart 6)

"What decision? If we don't take him, where will he go? He'll run and just end up on the street again. Or if you're right and he knows faces and names of men in powerful positions, they could try to harm him."

Viktor shook his head. "We wouldn't abandon him. He can stay with the club. When this is over, we'll have places in Caspar. He can stay there with Mechanic and Transporter. Or Absinthe. We'll build him his own room. Something."

That was hardly a choice, but she wasn't going to say that. He was sincere. He thought he was giving her an out, but the last thing she wanted to do was leave the boy with the club members without supervision. As far as she was concerned, they all needed supervision, let alone giving them a young, angry, in shock, traumatized boy.

"Do you want to take him in?" She looked him straight in the eye. He hadn't been afraid to ask--no, tell her--about Darby and her sisters, but maybe he didn't want the boy for some reason she wasn't aware of yet.

Viktor hesitated.

"Honey, we have to be able to talk to each other. If you don't want this boy for some reason you need to tell me why."

He shook his head. "I don't want to influence you one way or the other. It's your decision."

"Viktor, it's our decision. We're in this together. We're going to raise Darby, Zoe and Emily . . ."

"That's on me. I didn't exactly ask you," he muttered.

So he did know that he'd all but ordered her. "I would have said no if I didn't want to do it, Viktor. I'm not a retiring violet. I speak my mind, and I'm not afraid to tell you to go to hell if I don't like something you say."

He sent her a faint smile. Blythe couldn't help reaching out and smoothing the hard line of his jaw with her palm.

"I want the boy. Someone has to help him, and we understand what he's been through. The club. Me. You. The girls will too. Maxim's children will understand. I know it won't be easy, but I swear, you won't be raising them on your own. I'll be with you every step of the way."

"Even if I insist on rules?"

"We'll talk about the rules, but yeah, kids need structure and rules."

"School?"

"They'll have a difficult time going into a regular school, but education is important."

"Airiana and Maxim homeschool their children right now. We can help them with that and send ours."

He nodded. "I can live with that."

"And a counselor? That's nonnegotiable," Blythe said firmly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Can we do that? Say something is nonnegotiable?" He didn't sound in the least bit upset by it.

She knew a trap when she saw it. "Only I get to say that."

"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow and then leaned close to rub his lips over hers. He kissed the corner of her mouth and then down to her chin. He nibbled on her chin with his teeth. "You sayin' yes? We'll take him?"

"If someone can do the proper paperwork and . . ." She pinned him with what she hoped was a steely gaze. "If he wants to stay with us." Already he was melting her, turning her soft inside. Love welled up, a fierce, protective emotion that was stronger than anything she'd ever experienced.

"He'll stay." He was decisive.

"We'll talk to him in the morning. I want to lay it out for him, rules and all, before he makes a decision. Handling a sixteen-year-old trauma victim isn't going to be easy."

"No, but you'll have me and the entire club helping."

She groaned. "That doesn't make me want to jump up and down with joy."

"I might have to think of things that will make you want to do that." Viktor leaned across her to open the drawer beside the bed. He took out the toy she'd used earlier, holding it in front of her, speculation in his eyes. His face had gone soft, and that dark, sinful, very wicked look was on his face. "Looks interesting. You plan for a fun evening tonight?"

She glared at him, but her heart jumped and deep inside her sex clenched. Heat rushed. Pooled. Her veins began to grow warm, a slow burn that boded ill for her.

"Alone or with me?" he prompted.

She reached up, took it out of his hand, tossed it in the drawer and slammed the drawer closed. "You are cut off. Maybe for days. Weeks even. I want you in a terrible mood, and I hope you take it out on your brothers and sisters, because they so deserve it." She was condemning herself to bad moods, but someone had to do something about the entire lot of them.

A slow grin eased the lines in his face. "You're cuttin' me off?"

"Absolutely I'm cutting you off. Go sleep outside on the rooftop. Or with the boy. Or down in the camp with your monster children." She did her best to sound tough and not laugh. She refused to let that mischievous, bad-boy look on his face melt her heart more than it already was melted.

One hand slipped inside the lapel of her robe. His fingers traced the curve of her breast and then his knuckles swept along the underside, sending streaks of fire arrowing straight to her sex. Her nipples hardened into tight buds and a shiver slid down her spine. That fast. She was that responsive to him. The slightest little touch and he owned her.

"You're certain, baby?" he murmured, his voice low. Persuasive.

"Positive." But she shook her head at the same time. She couldn't help herself.

"Did you use that toy on yourself tonight?"

Her chin went up. "Yes. That's why I don't need you. I'm perfectly fine."

"That's too bad, because I need you." He unzipped his jeans and curved her palm over his cock. "Feel that. I'm burning up for you, baby."

"You should have thought about that before you brought your crazy brothers and Alena with you into our bedroom." Her hand stroked the hard thickness of his shaft. Her voice dropped an octave, was deliberately sultry. "I had such plans for you tonight. But now . . ." She shrugged her shoulders even as her thumb slid along the crown of his cock, smearing the pearly drops all over.

His body shuddered with pleasure. He undid the knot of her sash and pushed the robe open. "Spread your legs, Blythe."

He already knew she was lying to him about sending him away. Still, she made a show of reluctance. "That toy is very satisfactory."

"Does it make you scream the way I do?"

"No, but that's a good thing."

"It's never a good thing if you don't scream, baby. A woman like you deserves a man who can make her scream." His hand slipped between her thighs and he moved her legs apart, one slow push at a time.

Instantly the cool air fanned her hot body. A rush of liquid greeted his palm when he pressed it over her entrance. "I think your toy just made you want me more."

"I'll get over it."

His thumb brushed her clit, sending a spray of hot sparks showering her skin and peppering the inside of her body. Air left her lungs in a rush of heat.

"At least tell me what you were thinking about when you pushed that toy inside you and turned it on."

His voice was an aphrodisiac, so much so that she didn't notice when he pushed the kimono from her shoulders so it fell in a silken pool around her hips. Not until his thumb stroked her left nipple in time to the one stroking her clit. Then his mouth was on her breast, drawing it into a scorching hot cauldron, so that every thought left and there was only Viktor and his hands, mouth, tongue and teeth.

"Tell me, baby," he insisted, switching to lavish attention on the other breast.

She found herself cradling his head, arching her back to give him more, to feel the sensual brush of his hair over her sensitized skin. It was difficult to think when his mouth was on her, pulling at her breast, tongue flicking her nipple and teeth scraping gently. His thumb between her legs kept up a rhythm that was going to kill her.

She forced air into her lungs.

"You mean like wanting my mouth around your cock? Pushing you down on the bed and straddling you so I could ride you? Hard."

His cock jerked under her hand and she wrapped her fist around the hard flesh tightly. Her hand began a slow glide, pumping him.

"Did you burn for me, baby? Is that why you brought out your toy?"

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His mouth was pure sin. His voice wicked. His hands were everywhere, all over her body, making her burn all over again. She couldn't think with wanting him.

"You're wearing too many clothes, Viktor," she complained.

With one hand he caught the hem of his T-shirt and yanked it over his head, tossing it aside. She pulled at his jeans as he stood, stripping him. The material caught on his motorcycle boots and hung there. She pushed him back on the bed. He caught the back of her head and brought her down to his groin, and then began to work to get his boots off. She took him deep, loving the feel of him, so hot and hard in her mouth.

She heard the heavy boots hit the floor and then his hands were on her bottom, kneading and stroking, then in her hair, gripping, his groan loud in the room as she sucked, her tongue flicking and dancing up and down his shaft, working him.

Then his hands were tugging at her. "Enough, or it will be too late. I want you straddling me." His hands went to her waist and he was lifting her.

Blythe obliged, guiding his cock into her as she settled over him. Gasping as he filled her, letting the burn take her. It was so good. Perfection. It always was with him, no matter who was doing what. She moved her body, picking a slow rhythm, one she knew would drive them both insane. She rose up and then spiraled down, tightening her inner muscles so the friction was exquisite.

She threw her head back and let the feeling take her. So good. His hands went to her breasts, her nipples pushing into his palm. Every movement sent heat crashing through her. The slow burn had turned scorching hot. His breath coming in ragged gasps added to the beauty of the movement.

"Baby, faster."

"So impatient." She could barely get the words out, grinding down, spiraling up. He stretched her to an almost burning point, but that added to the pleasure coursing through her body. Impossibly, his cock grew in size, in girth, pushing against her sensitive walls, sending more flames spreading like a wildfire out of control.

His hands went to her waist and he physically lifted her and slammed her back down over him. Flames sizzled, burned through her. So good. The best. She followed the urging of his body, riding him fast and hard, her breasts bouncing, her hair spilling down her back, watching his face--his beloved face--and what she was doing to him.

Then his thumb was on her clit and her head fell back as the fire consumed her completely, unexpectedly, taking her over with such force she couldn't do anything but go with it, screaming as it threw her into the atmosphere. His body surged up as his hands brought her down even harder and faster. The ripples kept coming, building again to a fierce tidal wave of pleasure.

Viktor's cock swelled, jerked, then jet after jet of hot seed splashed deep inside her, coating her sensitive walls, causing more explosions. His hands were back on her breasts, fingers tugging at her nipples, determined to extend her orgasm as long as humanly possible.

The door burst open and the room filled with men with guns. Blythe froze, but her body didn't seem to be aware of the men or the guns and neither did Viktor's. He emptied himself into her as she leaned into his hands, exhausted. Sated. Embarrassed. Embarrassed. She closed her eyes.

"Get out," she hissed, but she had no air and it didn't come out very strong.

"What the hell, Czar?" Mechanic said.

Reaper's voice came from down the hall. "Forgot to tell you, she's a screamer. Come on, kid, we can get to the dessert before anyone else."

"Bastard," Transporter snapped. "There wasn't that much ice cream. He's probably eating the entire carton."

Guns disappeared and the room quickly emptied and the last one out closed the door. Blythe put her forehead on Viktor's chest. His entire body was shaking. She lifted her head to glare at him, but the sight of him laughing was too beautiful to bother with a reprimand. She joined in. He caught her around the waist and rolled, trapping her body under his while his mouth came down on hers in a long, slow kiss. When he lifted his head, he rubbed his mouth along her chin.

"I love you," he whispered. "With everything in me."

"You make me forget everything around me," she whispered when he lifted his head so they both could breathe.

"You wipe out every bad thing that ever happened to me," he confided, and kissed her again.

Long. Wet. Demanding. She gave herself up to him. Gave herself to him. Let him take her to that place where no one existed but the two of them. She loved that he thought she could take away his childhood nightmares, even if just for a short while. His hands were perfection, each stroke of his fingers. He knew her body so well. Their time apart hadn't faded his memories one bit.

"With all the children living here, I'm going to have to learn not to be so vocal," she said. Her hands slid down his back, loving the long, muscular length of him.

"No you don't. I like you screaming. Tells me I'm doing something right. We're going to soundproof the room."

She laughed.

He pushed up with his hands on either side of her head. "I mean it. I'll have the club soundproof this room the minute we're free."

She could see he meant it. "I'm fine with that, but, honey, get locks on the door. And window. Maybe three or four locks. It might slow them down when they try to pick the locks to get in for some silly reason, like they need to know if we'll take the ten children they found living under a boat on the beach."

He burst out laughing and collapsed back over top of her. "That could happen, you know."

She did know. She so knew it was entirely possible and the funny thing was--she was all right with it.

20

THE wind blew in off the ocean, carrying the scent of the sea and bringing with it fingers of misty, silvery fog. Hannah Drake Harrington walked the widow's walk as she had since she was a child, looking, not out toward the sea, but back toward the little village of Sea Haven. In the dark, the lights from the houses looked like distant twinkling stars of all colors. The village was built on the edge of a bluff and stretched back toward the Pacific Coastal Highway, Highway 1.

In the distance, coming from the north, from the Fort Bragg area, came the loud roar of several motorcycles. She glanced over at Airiana Prakenskii. Airiana smiled at her and stood up slowly. She was pregnant, but not yet showing. Her smile was calm. Serene, even. She nodded her head to Hannah.

"We've got this."

"I know. I'm not worried about us, although I have to admit, I'd give anything to see Damon with my baby right now."

"So would I," Airiana admitted. She worked with Damon, Sarah Drake's husband. He was brilliant, but she didn't see him as a man to rock a crying baby to sleep. "Aren't Kate and Joley with him?"

The Drake house was silent and dark, with only one light on showing through the downstairs' great room window. Damon, Joley and Kate were in the house together with Hannah's baby. The house looked peaceful, as if Elle Drake was in residence, waiting for her husband to return from his shift.

"Kate and Joley are being really mean to Damon, making him hold the baby. He doesn't know it yet, but he's going to be a father. They're just giving him the chance at some experience," Hannah said, amusement in her voice.

"Why hasn't Sarah told him?"

"She just found out tonight for certain, and she didn't want him worrying. She'll be in the truck with Jackson," Hannah replied. "It was too late to change the plans." She kept her eyes glued to the distant lights of Sea Haven and raised her arms to send the wind to her husband. They're coming.

The 911 call went out and Jackson was dispatched to the Egg Taking Station a few minutes ago, Jonas reported.

Any sign of trouble there? she asked. She told herself Jonas could handle trouble; he'd been doing it forever, but still, she detested that she wasn't closer to him.

Not yet, but I feel uneasy. It's coming.

The roar of the Harleys was getting louder. Hannah and Airiana went to the wide, curved bannister of the widow's walk on the street side and looked down. Six men wearing Swords colors parked their bikes off the road, under t

he trees, just down from the house. The two women looked at each other. They'd expected four men, maybe even three, to try to burn down the Drake house. Not six.

Tyson Derrick, Libby's husband, and Matt Granite, Kate's husband, were outside. Matt was a former Army Ranger and no doubt could take care of himself in a firefight, but Tyson was with fire rescue and worked mainly in medical research. Neither could do anything to protect the house until the Swords actually made an attack on them.

"You ready?" Hannah asked. "Ilya wanted Joley inside. She can't move as fast as she might need to out here, but she'll help us." Airiana seemed as if she wasn't so advanced in her pregnancy that it might hinder her, but one never knew.

Airiana smiled. "No worries. I feel great. They aren't going to get to the house."

It was Hannah's turn to smile. "The house will protect itself against any threat to it. Joley, Kate, Damon and the baby are much safer than we are out here."

They were in the open, but up very high. If the Swords spotted them on the widow's walk, they might try to shoot them, but they'd have to be a sharpshooter, and she controlled the wind.

She watched as the group paused just down from the Drake house. They appeared to be waiting for something.

"You have a cool house, we just have a massive alarm system. Lexi talks to the earth. She can get the ground to do just about anything, and it tells us if someone is on the farm that isn't family."

Hannah raised her eyebrow. She knew the women living on the farm were elements, all of them, with the exception of Blythe, but Elle assured her Blythe had gifts as well. "When Lexi is around, you can feel the power emanating from her." She cleared her throat, looking down at the Swords. "What's Gavriil like? He looks intimidating."

"He is. Absolutely he is. He scared everyone when he first arrived, everyone but Lexi, that is. He doesn't look at anyone else. I'm not sure he sees anyone else. He's good for her," Airiana said.

A white van drove up and parked just off the road, just down from the entrance to the drive leading to the Drake house. Hannah's heart plunged. The Swords ran up to the van. Clearly they'd been waiting for it. The back doors opened and two more men wearing the distinctive Swords colors leapt out. The men began pulling out bottles that looked like alcohol.