Page 76 of Home to the Hollow

Clutching his chest dramatically, he gives me a pained look. “You wound me, Tíogair. I would have thought my reputation preceded me.” At my blank look, he winces again. “Doyle Aloysius Haggerty, at your service, milady.”

I blink. People have mentioned Doyle to me in passing—he’s responsible for the crazy business names—but I didn’t realize I’d met him. I can’t think of a thing to say except, “I don’t have an entourage.”

“You have felines and birds and dogs and bullies and white coats, lass. The trail of admirers behind you is longer than the Queen’s attendants.”

“Oh, piss off,” I grumble, walking closer as he draws on the thin cigarette in his long fingers. “And who smokes cloves unironically? Those things are the worst.”

He shrugs, his eyes flashing as he grins. “Just another one of my bad habits, I’m afraid. I’m too old to be taught new tricks—many have tried.”

Something about the way he says it feels like a dare, and it makes my stomach tighten. The fire in my veins rushes forward, and I stalk closer, plucking the clove from his fingertips. Pitching it, I watch the cherry skitter across the pavement before I lean in to look directly into his eyes. “You, Doyle Aloysius Haggerty, couldn’thandlemy efforts were I to try. There’s…” I inhale for a moment, closing my eyes to feel the sensations running through me. “... fear running through you right now. I scare the hell out of you, but you like it.”

The redhead doesn’t move, save for his smirk deepening. “Aye, Tíogair. You’ve got me nailed like a fence post. The question is, what are ye planning to do with that information? What scaresyou?”

I’m not scared of much, but I doubt he means things like spiders or gang violence. No, Doyle is asking me about my deepest insecurities, and it’s not something I share with people.

In all my years of friendship with Seer, I’ve never admitted to feeling like a stranger in my home as a child or the gnawing pit in my stomach when I think I’ll lose someone I care enough about to consider an ally. Alienation and abandonment are root causes of the path my life took once I left the Hollow, and I’ll be damned if this cocky asshat is going to get that out of me with a sexy pout. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Liar,” he hisses, reaching out to brush a hair off of my face. “You, Jolene Athena Whitley, project an air of untouchable confidence, but underneath, you’re hiding rage, fear, and heartbreak. Your armor may fool the Dublin heiress and the platoon of gooey centered boys who follow you like lost pups, but not me. I’ve been around far too long and seen more than you can imagine—I can practicallytasteyour desires.”

Inching closer to him, I force his body against the brick he was lounging against, and my hand comes up to rest on his throat. The claws in my gut dig deeper, and I squeeze hard with my thumb and forefinger on the column of his neck. I can feel his pulse jumping in his carotid—which I’m careful to avoid because I don’tthinkI want him dead at the moment. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Lucky. What gives you the right to play armchair therapist?”

His laugh is full of delight. There’s not a trace of fear in his expression as I continue to put pressure on his airway, only hooded eyes and that fucking smirk I’d like to knock off his pretty face with my fist. “I don’t ask for permission, Tíogair—never. If you want me to kneel, you’ll have to do better than a snarl and a mean face. Give me the heat, and I’ll consider it.”

I open my mouth to respond, but a rush of cold fury fills me. No one tells me what to do without my permission, and he’s giving me orders like he owns my ass. My breath escapes in a sibilant sound as I increase the pressure on his throat reflexively. A sexy rumble vibrates in his chest, and my lips curve up a bit before I smash our bodies together, using the wall for support. “I don’t take orders; I give them.”

“Ah,thereshe is,” he croaks. “I’ve been waiting. Go on, then. Let it take charge—do it.”

The words make little sense through the red haze in my mind, and I tilt my head as I try to puzzle them out. Leaning in, I run my nose over his Adam’s apple, and the scent of his skin triggers another flood of energy that shoots straight to my pussy.

A fleeting thought about the boys whispers in my head, but my body overrides my brain. Something dark and hungry and icy is slowly taking over, and I don’t know how to stop it anymore than I do the black outs. Before I can even process that, his hand snakes around me to squeeze my ass, and I’m done.

There is no Jolene, only a horny Domme.

Holding his throat, I hook my ankle around his and use my shoulder to flip us around. The bricks scrape my skin as our position changes and I’m flush to the wall, but the scratches will be worth it. His eyes glow that eerie green as he waits, not giving up his power because I was rough. My eyebrow arches and I push harder, using my free hand to put pressure on his shoulder as well. The command comes from the bottoms of my feet when I growl at him. “Kneel!”

A satisfied smirk stretches across his handsome face as he slowly lowers to his knees, looking up at me with a mixture of defiance and compliance that is both hot as hell and infuriating at the same time. He tucks his hands behind his back, spine straight and chin up despite my continuing kung fu grip. I only have a few more seconds before that becomes dangerous and we both know it. It’s time for me to make a bigger decision than playing chicken with a hot guy in a dark alley.

“Tíogair, I’m waiting.”

His voice is raspy, and I relax my hand before I do unintended damage. The weird lusty rage slithering through me doesn’t like my choice, but I ignore it. I’ve been in the scene far too long to ever let my weird psychological problems cause me to damage another player in the game. “What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?”

“There’s what I needed—voiced assent, milady.” His hands grip my hips roughly, yanking them forward as he buries his face in my stomach and inhales.

The hungry thing inside of me practically shivers with pleasure and I groan.

I think this is going to be a rough ride.

Savage

The scent of her excitement is sodding intoxicating.

It’s in my nature to be, shall we say,flexibleregarding my preferences. Beings like myself have been around long enough to dabble in every paint pot and art bin available. The narrow strokes humans and even most supes paint themselves with are amusing. Unlike her current trio of lovers, I’ve clued into the fact that Jolene will not emerge as a singular entity, and her varied tastes tie to the parts of her struggling to the surface.

Whatever put the mojo on her is someone I want to meet.

It’s by far one of the strongest suppression spells I’ve encountered in my lifetime, but since I’m not a Guardian, I can’t declare it beyond the capability of those on this plane. She’s locked up tighter than a drum, and it’s no wonder the Society and the councils are eager to discover her lineage.

However, I’m not their errand boy or acolyte, so I’m only interested in the woman looking down at me. Her eyes are swirling with colors and I would bet a Rembrandt she’s never seen what happens when her hidden natures push through the veil of magic. The fierce look on her face, the throaty command, and the hold she had on me were enough to make me disregard the clear danger in getting intimate with her.

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