Page 24 of Not With the Eyes

Stepping back into the room proper, she stared at Scones, who sat on the bed again, head buried in his hands. He looked like he'd just lost his whole world. The leather fold lay on the floor where Oberon must have dropped it, though she didn't remember doing so.

Standing in front of Scones, who tensed and slowly dragged his head up, staring at her with an expression of heartache and pain, Oberon asked, "Why did you have that picture of me?"

Scones looked away., folding his arms across his spread knees. "I stole it years ago from my mother's file. She was always rather careless about bringing them home, leaving them out. Arrogantly certain, I guess, that no one would dare to touch her things or even glance in their direction. I was angry with her that evening, though, an indignant child who thought to defy her by nosing through her things. I saw you, your family… wound up reading most of the file before I had to bolt before she caught me. You, your story… you haunted me. Later, when she went to bed, I went back and stole one of the photos. I knew my mother would never miss one out of what had been at least twenty.

"I held onto it, learned more about you whenever I was able. Tracked you in the news, other public channels, pried into military and G.O.D. files whenever I could. Don't know why. I could never get you out of my head. Over the years…" He let out a faint huff of laughter, looked at Oberon, then hastily looked away again. "I was so happy to finally meet you, even though I always knew you'd hate me. I didn't… I wasn't trying to keep the picture from you or anything. It's my most precious possession, and it never occurred to me you'd need it."

Oberon swayed, sat down on the floor right in front of Scones.

Who'd had her picture for years. Decades. Had kept track of her all this time. Hadlovedher all this time.

Every moment they'd spent together came back in a whole new light. Especially the hotel, where—

"Anyway, I'll leave you in peace now," Scones said roughly, still not looking at her as he pushed to his feet.

Oberon surged to her feet, blocking him, hands on his chest.

"What?" Scones asked roughly.

"You can't really think I'm letting you go anywhere," Oberon replied. "Not after a confession like that."

"Oberon— Don't—" Scones's voice cracked.

"Shush now," Oberon said softly, and leaned up to kiss him, sliding her arms up his chest to twine around his neck.

Scones froze, and then with a rough, broken noise wrapped his arms around Oberon and held her almost painfully close as he kissed her like it might be the only thing that saved his life.

Oberon had the sneaking suspicion that might be truer than she wanted to know, and that it could easily go both ways. The son of her greatest enemy. Who would have thought.

Tearing away with great effort, panting against Scone's chest, she had a sudden hot, achingneed. She tugged impatiently at his t-shirt. "Off. Now."

Scones choked. "What?"

"Now, I mean it, and if you don't listen to me, I'm going to start in with the comments about how much older I am than you. I'm older than yourmotherfor crying—"

"All right, all right." Scones nudged her back out of the way and shrugged out of his jacket, then pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. "You sure know how to sweet talk a guy." He sat on the bed to remove his boots, throwing them aside, out of the way before standing again to work on his pants. "Also, we're not exactly out of the woods—"

"We're locked in a glorified panic room until a devious faerie comes to rescue us. There's a living computer and a human bull standing guard. We're fine. Stop talking and do as you're told, unless youdon'twant me to ride you while my tits bounce around in your face."

Scones groaned, cock twitching visibly in his pants. He pressed one hand to it, attempts to undo the fastenings forgotten as he glared. "Stop that!"

Oberon smirked as she pushed his hands out of the way and worked at the fastenings herself. "If you really want me to stop, obviously I will. I think, though, that it would be nice for both of us if we did this with all cards now on the table."

Calloused fingers brushed along her cheek, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the gentle gesture doing more to make her shiver than the most erotic touch. "I want you however I can have you. Sex is the least important part, in the end."

"But if I said I really want to push you down on that bed and ride you, tits bouncing in your face, you wouldn't say no."

"I would say you're evil incarnate," Scones said with a groan, eyes closing, throat working. "Fuck me, you're incendiary." He sat again and kicked off his pants and boxers, then sprawled across the bed as Oberon gestured.

Stripping off her own clothes, shivering at the way Scones looked her over, mismatched eyes burning, Oberon replied, "I'm about to be a lot better than that." Straddling his hips,she cupped his face and dove into another kiss, licking into his mouth, sucking at his tongue.

Scone's hands spanned her waist, slid down to her hips, then down and around to cup her ass, gripping and kneading, sending a shiver down her spine. "Scones—"

"Stéphane," Scones said. "Please. I've never had anyone I trusted enough to use that name."

Oberon smiled. "Stéphane. It certainly suits you better than Algernon or Scones." Much better than Painkiller, a name she wasn't ever going to bring up again. She danced her fingers across his lips, then leaned in to lick them before whispering his name again. Stéphane groaned, reaching up to sink a hand into her hair and kiss her back with an aching, almost desperate hunger. "I don't know how your piece of shit mother managed to produce someone as magnificent as you, but it's the only good thing the bitch ever did."

Stéphane laughed, his hands skimming her thighs—and then they were moving, flipping, and Oberon abruptly found herself on her back. "You're such a sweet talker," Stéphane said. "Call my mother more names."

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