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Bulletproof Damsel Page 6
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“You don’t want to see them feeding each other, trust me. Did you say twice?”
“Need me to write it down for you? I don’t make it a habit of screwing random people. I work long hours in the armory at E.V.I.E., which leaves little time for me to have much of a personal life, which suits me fine. I’m immortal, so there will be plenty of time to do that stuff.”
“You do realize you’re mortal until you become immortal, right? And that most potential immortals never make it to the age to become immortalized.”
“What?” I asked, pulling on his arm to stop him.
“Did Eliza teach you nothing?” he countered. When I blinked at him, he peered over my shoulder, tugging me with him down the hall. He moved to a door, opening it before pulling me through. “Did she leave you to die?”
“My mother? No. I ran away at seventeen, and this is my first time home since leaving. She refused to move again because I’d left home and was unprotected. In her words, I was too damn stubborn to not run headfirst into a Van Helsing, and trip, getting pinned on his dick without even knowing it,” I said, narrowing my eyes on him as he smirked. “I came looking for you to know my enemy and figure out who to avoid.”
“How did that work out for you?”
“Not so well. But this particular Van Helsing doesn’t seem so bad yet. Plus, he doesn’t seem to want me dead. If that changes, I’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” I dismissed him as much as I could while holding his hand. Normally when the curse struck, I was in bed, which was on the floor because every frame we’d tried had snapped or given out beneath the curse.
“Strip,” he ordered, and I turned, glaring at him. “Do you plan on sleeping in your clothes, then? Might make bathing an issue as well,” he said, shrugging broad shoulders as his lips tugged into a frown, studying the horror marring my face.
“I’m not bathing in front of you!”
“I’m about to climb into a bathtub. Unless you plan on standing there holding my hand while I wash myself, you’re joining me. I promise to be a gentleman and not fuck you, Remi. I have a routine, and normally I would shower before bed. Considering the day you just had, and your soft nature, I figured a bubble bath with a nightcap would be warranted before you curled into bed beside me. We can discuss whatever you’d like in it, or finish what we started at the bar. But that choice is yours to make.”
“You’re expecting me to strip naked and bathe with you? Just like that?” I stammered, staring at him as he smirked, lifting my hand to his waist as he released it.
In stunned silence, I watched his fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt to reveal rippling waves of muscles that covered his chest. Tattoos and muscle with pierced nipples were exposed to my greedy stare as he shook his thick arms out of his shirt. Standing before me in nothing but his slacks, I swallowed a groan. Every time the man moved, his muscles tensed and bunched with the slight movement while I stood silently drinking in the sight of him.
I’d seen men naked before, a lot of men. Not in a sexual manner, but wounded soldiers treated from wounds obtained while on hunts. None of them had shit on Rhys Van Helsing. He appeared to be sculpted by the gods, created to make a girl go stupid from mere sight. His coiled muscles contracted and moved as his hands lowered to the button on his slacks, using his thumbs to unfasten them before letting them drop to his feet. My mouth opened and went dry as his thick cock fell free, bouncing forth before my wide eyes.
“You keep staring at it, little girl, and it’s going to notice you,” he whispered against my ear, causing me to back up away from him into the dresser.
The dresser slammed forward, sending my body hard against his chest. We landed in a heap of limbs on the bed. I felt something twitch against my cheek, and I lifted, staring down at his cock that I’d been laying on. His throaty laughter sounded from beneath me, and I groaned in horror, wiping the wetness from my face.
“Oh, God, you got pre-cum on my face!” I whined, much to his amusement as he laughed, watching up at me. I tried to push away from him and stand, groaning as the giant bed shattered the moment I was off, smashing my foot. “Ouch!” He laughed harder. Sitting up, he grabbed my hand. “It’s not funny!” I wiped his wetness from my cheek, glaring at him. “You’re disgusting.”
“You landed with your face against my cock. It is funny.”
Pounding started at the door, and he stood, kicking off his boots and socks as I held onto him, allowing him to step the rest of the way out of his pants. The knocking continued, and he acted as if it didn’t bother him that someone was pounding on the door while he peered around his disheveled room.
Rhys moved toward the door, and I stammered. “What are you doing?”
“Telling my men that you didn’t attack me before they storm the room to investigate,” he stated, arching a brow with a silent question. I released my hand on his hip as he watched me. The ceiling above me started to crack, and he shook his head, reaching for my hand. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, yanking me forward. “You are destroying my house, Silversmith.”
“You cursed me, so deal with it.” I started to cross my arms over my chest, but it was futile with Rhys holding my arm. Abandoning the action, I frowned as he walked us toward the door, pulling me with him.
Rhys cracked it open far enough that it revealed several heavily armed men outside of it. “Everything is fine, gentlemen. Just rough sex happening in here,” Rhys declared, causing me to sputter in horror at his announcement. Closing the door, he turned and yanked my body against his, brushing his hand against my cheek. “Now strip, woman.”
Chapter Eight
Rhys walked me toward an open doorway, and once we were inside the room, I gasped at its elegance. His bathtub was large and sunken, with rose petals floating over the top of the water. Candles covered the ledge, and the scent of sage and roses rushed through me, calming my frayed nerves.
“You used witches’ herbs and a soothing mixture in the water, didn’t you?” I accused softly, noting that I was relaxing entirely too much to be naked around him.
“Yes,” he replied. “You’re young, and your body is still something you think should be hidden. I thought it wise to help ease some of your modesty before climbing into the tub with me.”
“That was actually thoughtful,” I said, deflating. “Can you turn around?”
“You think that’s going to make it where I cannot see you?” He peered around at the room full of mirrors. Exhaling, he smiled tightly, giving me his back, still holding my wrist. “Place your foot against mine, Remi.”
I gave him my back, staring at the large bare foot with the heel toward mine. Brushing my foot against his, I swallowed down the thought of the intimacy at seeing his bare foot. For some unknown reason, I’d always found it intimate to see a man’s feet without shoes, as if it somehow held a broader meaning, which, of course, it didn’t.
His hand released my wrist, and I lifted the borrowed shirt over my head, slowly unbuttoning my pants while leaving the skimpy panties on as some line of defense against him. Silently, I turned toward Rhys, sucking my lip between my teeth as his eyes lowered to my naked breasts that my arms slightly hid.
“You’re not naked, little Silversmith,” he murmured.
“I’m not getting naked with you near me. This will have to do,” I frowned, lifting my eyes to the heated blue depths that smiled, even though his mouth remained in a tight white line. Without warning, he lifted me and stepped into the tub.
“Put your feet into the water, Remi. Make sure it isn’t too hot,” he said thickly as my body slid down his.
Rhys held me steady as if my weight didn’t bother him at all. The water was hot, but not scorching or uncomfortable. I stepped away from him, but his hand remained on mine until I was sitting comfortably in the tub. My eyes closed against the enticing scene of his delicious body on full display, which didn’t seem to bother him at all.
Rhys’s foot brushed against mine, pressing flesh to flesh as he sat in the tu
b resembling a large, shallow hot tub rather than an actual bathtub. I sat opposite his large body that spread out in the tub, staring at me, waiting expectantly.
“What?” I asked after another moment of silence sent my nerves rising.
“You’re very beautiful,” he stated softly, slowly sitting up as he moved closer.
“What are you doing?” I demanded, but he grabbed me, pulling me forward and turning me until my back was against his chest.
“I’m washing your hair, since you can’t do that and cover your pretty titties. So, I figured for the sake of your modesty, which I am trying to respect, it’s the least I could do.”
“Oh, okay—” I was the most awkward person alive, apparently. I stopped my lips from moving. Feeling his body against mine was intoxicating, but being around him naked was worrisome. My body reacted to his touch, much more so than any man before had ever caused me to respond.
Rhys brought a cup up, soaking my hair slowly as if he had done this before. Once it was fully saturated, the scent of lemon zest tingled against my nose. Fingers kneaded my scalp, stealing a moan from my lips as I dropped my head back. Momentarily forgetting where I was and whom I was with, I sat back up. I didn’t recall my mother detailing anything about scandalized bathing or hair washing in her tirade of Van Helsing men.
“My mother hates you guys,” I said into the silence of the room.
“It’s warranted,” he shocked me by agreeing to it without argument. “Our families are very much at war, Remington Silversmith. I won’t sugarcoat it for you as others would do to win you to their side. I’m sure she told you never to trust a Van Helsing with your back?” His fingers trailed down my spine, and I shivered.
“Yes, among other things they shouldn’t be around.” I swallowed, internally mentioning me as a whole that shouldn’t be around them. “I’m going to guess I shouldn’t allow you around my vagina, either.”
Deep laughter sounded behind me. I turned, studying the way he watched me. His eyes slid to my hair, and he made the motion to turn back around with his finger. I obeyed as his legs lifted beside me, and something very male touched my spine.
My breathing hitched while I felt it growing, along with the heat filling my cheeks as we both ignored the monster in the room. I shuddered against the feel of him. Slowly turning my head, he rinsed out my hair. I spun around the moment he finished, pushing away from him, only for the candles to crack and wax to shoot toward me.
Rhys moved faster than I could see, blocking my body with his as he grunted. I stared into dark blue eyes that lowered to my hands, which were now wrapped around him as the scent of copper filled the tub. Lowering my eyes to his chest, I grimaced at the glass protruding from it. I’d left his touch, and he’d used his body as a shield to protect mine.
“Sit back,” I urged, watching as he complied. His eyes slid to the candles and back to mine as I moved with him, never leaving his touch. I straddled his lap awkwardly, feeling his hands settling on my hips. “Thank you. I don’t heal quickly, which is probably something I shouldn’t be telling you, I’m sure.”
“You’re mortal still, Remi. It’s a given that you wouldn’t heal fast. I do have fixers and healers on the property for those who are yet to rise to immortality, but they can’t fix you if you’re dead.”
I nodded and swallowed, dropping my hands, expecting his stare to lower to my naked breasts. Instead, he held his eyes on my face while I pulled the glass from his chest. His grip tightened on my waist, encircling it with his large hands. My head leaned over, licking his wound with saliva that could heal injuries as his blood’s coppery tang danced on my tongue.
He growled, his muscles tensing beneath my tongue as my eyes lifted to lock with his. I smirked at the wide-eyed look he gave me as his cock jerked against my belly. My tongue slid over the smooth cut the glass had left, kissing it softly when it had fully healed.
“Silversmiths cannot heal with their saliva, Remington,” he rasped huskily.
“No, they can’t. I can, though,” I smiled, rising to peer into his heated depths that threatened to swallow me whole. My hands lifted to rest on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles straining against my touch.
“Interesting.” Rhys watched me a moment before his mouth closed the distance between us, claiming mine hungrily.
I moaned into the kiss, allowing him to devour me as my insides trembled with need. His hands slid up my back, and one held my head. The other lowered, lifting my rear, pulling me closer to him. The room spun around me as I rocked against the hardness of his cock with my soaked panties. By the time the kiss broke, we were both gasping for air. He used my hair, turning my head so his mouth could brush against the rapidly beating pulse in my throat. Rhys’s hand lowered, cupping my naked breast as his thumb traced over my pierced nipple, causing a loud moan to escape my lips.
“This is where you tell me to stop, Remi,” Rhys growled, resting his head against my shoulder as his fingers pinched my nipple, twisting it until I cried out. His dark head pulled back as glowing blue eyes locked with mine. “Because in a moment, my demon will come out, and he won’t care that you’re basically an untouched woman who has never been claimed by something like him.”
“Oh,” I whispered huskily, shocked by the sound of my voice.
“Remi,” he warned, noting the war I fought within my mind.
“Stop.” I swallowed past the yes that perched on my tongue. Denial at what I’d actually said, instead of what I really wanted, sat like a rock on my tongue. Rhys rose without warning and abruptly released my body, exiting the tub, which shattered into large glass pieces as water gushed all over the floor.
“Don’t move,” he warned, grabbing me up in his arms, staring down at the mess covering the floor. “How long does the curse normally last?” he asked through gritted teeth, his eyes on my white panties, which were now sheer and doing little to hide my hairless apex from his burning gaze of blue flames dancing within the fiery orbs.
“Eight to ten hours, depending on how much magic I released. We’re at like five hours, max, but I am unsure of the time. You relieved me of my watch, and I usually set an alert the moment I use magic to create weapons or bullets.”
“Put your hands around my neck and hold on to me,” he warned.
The moment I’d grabbed on, the world went off-kilter, and I groaned as my stomach clenched and rebelled from the immortal speed he used. I could use the speed, but it was different when another used it without the mind grasping that took place.
Rhys placed my wet body onto the bed, checking my legs for injury. No emotion shone in his eyes while he touched my thighs, parting my legs to check each one. Once he was confident the glass tub hadn’t harmed me, he reached for the sheer gown beside the bed, handing it to me. Quietly, I pulled it on over my head before lifting my derriere to shed the wet panties. I held them awkwardly before his lips curled into a knowing, smug expression.
“I don’t have anything else to wear, do I?” I asked in a high tone.
“You don’t need panties to sleep. I won’t assault you or push the issue. We’re going to sleep so that when you wake, I don’t have to hold your hand. How do you manage the curse without a Van Helsing around?”
“I have a cell that I use in my room at E.V.I.E. that’s safe for me to be within, but my whole room is pretty much a safe zone. It’s reinforced steel, and once the curse becomes active, I retire there until it has run its course. I try not to use more than a tiny amount of magic when crafting weapons. That way I don’t have to deal with it for very long.”
“How did you end up at E.V.I.E.? I doubt your mother supported your choice to hunt vampires and other creatures before immortality claimed you.”
“Elizabeth hates that I joined. She spent my entire childhood running from your bloodline, and I just wanted to stop running for a little while. Every story and every lesson was about how to prevent detection until I couldn’t take it anymore. I left at seventeen, and I remained hidden until Win
chester found me and made me call my mother, who had gone mad during my disappearance. I guess it was rather selfish to run from the one person who had stuck around to make sure I survived to adulthood. I was a child running from a parent who was a little more than smothering, I guess.”
“Who is Winchester?” he asked, reaching for the whiskey beside the bed. He sat beside me, pouring us both glasses.
“She’s no one,” I swallowed, knowing she’d use to me to test out her newest arsenal if I discussed her with a Van Helsing.
“Judging by her name, I’m guessing another of Eliza’s daughters?”
“How do you know it’s a girl?” I demanded.
“You said she was no one, meaning female. I guess in this day and age, it could be otherwise. I’m guessing you never entered a public school or got to see much of the outside world. Knowing Eliza, you would have been raised off-grid, kept out of the eye of the world. You never learned how to be human because she never intended to leave you alone until you turned twenty-five and ascended to immortality. She’d have taught you how to survive in the wild, but on her terms. She probably taught you to control silver from childhood and use magic. Your mother was a fierce woman and had the patience of a saint for her children.”
“You knew her after you burned her home and family to ashes?” I asked curiously. He flinched, filling my glass before doing the same to his. “You didn’t know her after, because you said she died—” I cringed, lifting my eyes to lock with his. “My mother had other children, didn’t she? She never spoke of them if that is the case.”
“It was war, and both sides struck fast and hard, Remi. Grief makes people act out, and most of the time, it’s with the intent to inflict the most amount of pain you can cause. We set their house on fire without warning. We hit your family fast and hard, and we offered no mercy. Your mother lost her mate and children in the fire, or so we assumed. Considering we thought she was dead, it is possible others made it out alive as well.”