Charley replaced his hand with hers against his nose.
His hands found their way to her waist.
“I could wash this stuff for you.”
He waved the thought away. “Sheila will do it.”
Charley bristled, the hairs on her arm standing on end.
“Don’t like her much, do you?”
“I think I’ve made a bad impression, that’s all. Does she live here?”
“She does. Does that bother you?”
“I don’t know.”
Wyatt hesitated. “I could toy with you on this, but if you promise to give me the truth straight-up, I’ll do the same.”
She grinned. “Deal.”
“Prove it.” The gleam in Wyatt’s eye added to his challenge.
Charley ran her hands up his chest, banked the inward sigh she wanted to let slip from her lips. “I-” His muscles contracted under her palms. “I can’t be anything but a fully grown human female. Cael’s the only male I know who can be female.”
His grin sent internal fireworks off in her body.
“We’re all marked with a particular trait. Would you like to see?” Her fingers roamed up to his shoulders.
“Like a tattoo?”
She shook her head, closed her eyes and opened them again. “This is it.”
His eyes ranged across her body. “Did you change something?”
“Look closer.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah, that’s what wigs most people out.”
“They’re a weird purpley and… holy shit!”
“Freak you out yet?”
“No more than watching that silver-blue lingerie thing fall off your body when you changed from Candie.”
“Ah, yeah. That.” She patted his chest, but wanted to grab hold and smother herself in him.
“Candie’s breasts or yours?”
Charley giggled. “Hers.”
“And after you did your shift-change-thingy?” One eyebrow raised.
Heat rose from the depths. Mixed with desire, Charley prepared to self-implode. “Mine.”
“So you, Lily, Cael and James? All shape-shifters? Do you all have a photographic memory, too?”
“Lily, Cael and James are mimics, too, yes, but we each have different strengths and abilities.” Charley nodded at him.
“You looked really different before. Normal but not the same as today. Except,” Wyatt paused. “I think Cael and James were bigger.”
Charley’s chuckle warmed him. “They were.”
“I’d like to get a new shirt. Care to join me?”
She nodded him forward and followed him up the stairs and through a short hall to a set of double doors. The room held a bed the size of the ocean and a dome-shaped ceiling painted like the night sky.
“Like it?” Wyatt dropped the blood-soaked, ice-filled shirt to the floor. He pulled Charley against his bare chest, and swung his hips in a slow, seductive dance. “I fell in love with you on the night of our first kiss. Do you remember? Out on your balcony?”
“I remember,” Charley’s voice barely reached a whisper. “I don’t forget anything. Ever.”
“I don’t forget much either.” He caught Charley’s hesitation. “So, who else have you been?”
Her smile reached into her eyes. “Are you really interested? I thought you’d hate me by now.”
Wyatt sighed. “I could never hate you, Charley.”
“Even though everything you know about me is a lie?”
“Is it, though?” Wyatt kept them moving, relishing her touch on his skin. “You had to protect yourself. You thought what you did was the right thing. You know? I get that. I do. And, well… you don’t look all that different than you did before, now that I think about it.”
Her head continued to rest against him. “Probably because I didn’t change my shape much from my time as Mira.”
“Candie was six feet and you’re what, five eight? What’s your norm?”
She pulled back, her eyes penetrating his. “I am, in fact, five-eight. This supremely black hair, the legs and the breasts… they’re all my birthday suit, to put it in the most natural of terms. I got really tired of the forced transformation on my birthday, so since Mira, I’ve kept to the real me as much as possible, or at least when I’m not working.”
He ran his fingers up and down her arm, like the wave he’d made of the silhouettes that graced many of the walls of her home.
“So, to get back to your question, I’ve been a number of famous people. Since I can literally be the person and understand what they do, I get called up a lot.”
“You know, that’s impressive. People always say they want to be the President or Marilyn Monroe, or Elvis.”
“And that’s exactly what I do, though I can’t be Elvis. I know someone that plays him in Vegas, though. His act is superb.” Charley winked.
Wyatt stepped closer, brushed a hair away from her shoulder, leaned to her ear, and nibbled. “I like the black. Liked that gold color, too.”
“I could change into Mira if you wanted.” Her voice held a faint hint of guilt mixed with anxiety, topped off with a dollop of lust.
“No. I like this you the most.”
She arched her neck as he traced a line down it. A shiver raised the line of soft hair.
“And I want all of you.”
20
In one quick move, he unhooked her bra. Charley gasped as he spun her around, and wound his arms around her front until they fit against her hips. She pressed back against him but let the lace fall to the floor. His hands traced their way up her sides. His palms cupped her as his thumbs flicked across pink tips. Tingles of need shot straight to her core.
His tongue flicked against her lobe. “I wondered what it would be like to make love to you in your bed that night. I’ve always had this dream that I’d find out one day.”
Charley raised her arms, wrapping them around Wyatt’s neck, her breasts exposed except for the tease he added between his fingertips. His moan matched hers as his tongue caressed the edge of her ear. He nibbled his way around as they continued their dance.
Charley turned to face him, replaced her hands around his neck, and pressed against his solid form. Her fingers walked up his skin, sliding toward his shoulders. His biceps contracted as her hands brushed them. Wyatt’s hands found her butt and gripped, pulled her against him as she looked into his eyes.
“Will you help?” The seductive undertones left ‘help’ to be redefined.
“Yes.”
