Pleasures of the Night

by Sylvia Day

  The ring of the doorbell interrupted her.

  “You work too hard, babe,” Chad chastised softly. “You need to learn to say, ‘Come back tomorrow. I’ve got a man who wants to be with me.’”

  She smiled. He was so patient with her, never pushing her to give more than she was ready for. There were a couple of times she had been really close to inviting him to spend the night, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was…off.

  Had she now developed a fear of intimacy? Did the certainty that she wouldn’t live to a ripe old age make her wary and standoffish?

  “The mailman’s at the door.” Sliding off the stool at her breakfast bar, Lyssa stretched weary muscles. She was going to let Chad get close to her. No matter what. “Tomorrow’s Friday. Wanna take a rain check for Saturday?”

  Chad’s frustrated exhale sounded across the lines that connected them. “Yes. Saturday. For sure.”

  “For sure. I promise. See you then.” She set the receiver back into the cradle and crossed her small living room to the front door. Jelly Bean fell into step beside her while rumbling a low warning.

  “Kick back, attack cat,” Lyssa scolded, knowing that JB would ignore her and hiss with his usual grumpy fervor.

  The bell buzzed again, and she jogged the last couple of steps. “I’m coming.” Lyssa turned the knob and pulled the door open. “Do you need me to sign or some…th-thing…?”

  Her voice stuttered into silence as her gaze lifted and met eyes of deeply intense sapphire brilliance. Well over six feet of pure, unadulterated, gorgeous male stood on her porch step.

  She gaped.

  He was so tall, so broad of shoulder, so overwhelming that he filled every inch of her doorway. The scent of his skin, something exotic and spicy and scrumptious, hit her at the same moment as the wickedly provocative curving of his sensual lips.

  JB’s grumbling came to an abrupt halt.

  “Holy shit.” Her hand clutched the doorknob with white-knuckled strength. She had to force herself to breathe. In and out.

  His gaze slid along the length of her body as a hot, tangible caress. Her knees went weak. She stumbled, and he stepped into her personal space, catching her elbow and anchoring her upright.

  “Lyssa.”

  She blinked, the shock of that low-timbered voice with its soft brogue flaring across her skin. She’d heard that voice before, had heard her name spoken by it, and the heated awareness of his touch was near painful in its acuteness.

  The man on her doorstep was delicious. Impossibly so. Dark hair with silver-streaked temples, winged brows over eyes that devoured her, a firm jaw, and masterfully etched lips. A pale blue dress shirt was parted at the neck, revealing a light dusting of hair on a bronzed chest, and an opal-like stone hanging from a silver chain. Strong arms were revealed by rolled-up cuffs, arms that pulled her closer to that mesmerizing, erotically charged stare.

  I’ve kissed him before.

  No. She shook her head. She hadn’t. There was no way she could forget a man who looked as he did. He was almost otherworldly handsome, a man who was too hard, too chiseled, too dangerously male to be truly beautiful. But he was damn close.

  Swallowing hard, she parted her lips to speak. Instead, he bent his head and took her mouth. Her legs gave out beneath her, causing her to sink a few inches before he caught her close and lifted her feet from the tiled entryway.

  A deep, hungry growl rumbled up from the man’s chest, vibrating softly against her breasts, making her nipples ache. Dizzy and confused, she lifted her hands to push him away, but the scent of his skin intoxicated her. I know him. Her fingers slipped into the silky hair at his nape.

  The expert slanting of his lips across hers made her shiver. He hummed a soothing sound and stroked the length of her spine, gentling his kiss. The soft glide of his tongue, the deep licks, the gentle urging of his hips that rocked his erection against her…She moaned into his mouth, “Aidan.”

  His name came out of nowhere, filled with yearning and heated demands.

  “I’m here, Hot Stuff.” As if he knew her. As if he had come here for her. And that endearment…She felt as if she’d heard it before. In his voice.

  Her chest heaving with panting breaths, Lyssa closed her eyes and rested her cheek on his shoulder. Her breath gusted across his exposed throat, making him shudder and hug her tighter.

  “I—I don’t remember you,” she whispered, inwardly certain they must have met—no, been intimate—at some point in her life.

  He nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head and breathed deeply. “Don’t you?”

  “I don’t…” The last time she had felt this disoriented was when she’d polished off a bottle of Captain Morgan with her best friend.

  “I’ll make the introductions, then.” His voice was a rough caress. “You’re Lyssa Bates. I’m Aidan Cross.”

  “You’re Aidan…I’m crazy.”

  His chuckle rumbled upward and made her toes curl. Then he stepped into her house as if he had every right to, and kicked the door closed behind him.

  Strangely secure in his embrace, Lyssa leaned back to look at him, which was a mistake. The look he gave her was richly sexual and warmly amused. It was affectionate and appreciative—a lover’s look. He wrapped his fist in her hair and tugged her head back to lick and nibble at her throat. Overpowering her with the pure erotic heat he exuded.

  She was not as surprised by his actions as she should have been. The gesture was deeply comforting, the touch of his lips to her skin as natural as breathing. He was so arrogantly assured, so confident of his right to touch her as he desired.

  “I’ve lost my mind,” she said with a sigh of defeat. “Finally.”

  “Hmm?” He nipped her earlobe.

  “Or maybe I fell asleep and this is my dream? It would be totally okay to make out with hot strangers in dreams.”

  Aidan paused. “Totally okay to make out with this stranger.”

  “I’ve been reading too many romance novels with alpha males,” she muttered. Then her tummy growled. Loudly. At first she thought it was JB, but no, he was rubbing up against Aidan Cross’s legs and purring like a kitten. Which Jelly Bean had never done even when he was a kitten. The darn cat had been born grumpy.

  They’d both gone crazy, which was oddly comforting.

  “You didn’t eat all day again?” Aidan chastised, scowling down at her.

  “Uh, dream guys don’t scold.” As he set her away from him, Lyssa clung to his rock-hard forearms for balance. “I get enough of that from my mother.”

  “You need scolding to get you to eat regularly. You’re going to need your strength.” He stepped back and then teetered. “Whoa!”

  “Are you okay?” She steadied his significant weight with great difficulty.

  “I’ve got jet lag. I think.”

  She sighed loudly. Fantasies weren’t supposed to get jet lag, so either this was real and she had just made out with a stranger, or this was the oddest dream ever. Of course, she’d only recently started remembering vague pieces of dreams, so maybe all the ones she couldn’t recall had been a bit wacky, too. How depressing.

  Pushing him toward the sofa, she went along with the weirdness and asked, “Where are you from?”

  Aidan smiled, and her heart did a little flip. “San Diego.”

  “Right. You flew up from San Diego.”

  “No. I drove up from San Diego.” He sat, settling into the down cushions with an appreciative sigh. “It’s less than an hour’s drive, you know. When there aren’t so many cars in the way.”

  “Traffic. Yes, I know. So how’d you get the jet lag?”

  “On the way to San Diego.”

  “Okay.” Lyssa stepped back and crossed her arms. “Where did you come from before San Diego? Ireland? I admit I suck at pinning down accents. And yours is unusually luscious.”

  Struck by sudden déjà vu at her own words, Lyssa stared, arrested, as Aidan’s smile widened, making him even more gorgeous.
Why do I feel as if I know him so well? As if we’ve had this conversation before?

  It was surreal to be hovering over a stranger who’d just kissed her senseless. But no matter what she told herself, she couldn’t convince herself that she had done something wrong.

  “You’re very sexy when you’re grumpy,” he said.

  “Yeah? Well, you’re very sexy when you’re grinning like an idiot. And I’m not grumpy. Now, where did you come from?”

  “Your dreams.”

  “Okay. Now I know I’m asleep. Real-life hot guys don’t say corny shit like that.” It hadn’t really sounded corny, though. It had sounded sweet, kind of breathless, as if he was really happy to see her.

  He caught her hand and tugged her into his lap. She considered a token protest, then thought, Screw it. He was hot and nice, and she was insane.

  “Did we date in kindergarten or something?” she asked, studying his features with a frown.

  “Or something,” he replied evasively. “As a doctor, you’re trained to look for specific signs and then, based on those, you narrow it down to a diagnosis.”

  Lyssa arched a brow at her dream guy. “Something like that.”

  “But sometimes you just have to go with your gut, right? Like now. You don’t remember me, but you’re pretty sure about me anyway.”

  “No. The only thing I’m sure about is that I’m certifiable.”

  Aidan closed his eyes and shook his head. Released from the snare of that intense gaze, Lyssa was able to look at the rest of his features more closely. His cheeks were flushed, his lips red. She touched his forehead with her inner wrist and detected fever.

  “You’re burning up.”

  “It’s not contagious,” he assured her, his eyes opening and his arms tightening when she tried to stand. “I’m just adjusting, I think.”

  “To what? Let me up.” Wiggling, she broke free. “You should be in bed. We can reminisce about where we know each other from some other time.”

  “I could really use a bed. I haven’t slept in two days.”

  Lyssa stared at Aidan’s upturned face with wide eyes. “Long flight, huh? Do you need help finding a hotel?”

  “The only thing I need is to be with you.” He sank into the sofa back and groaned. “I ache all over.”

  “Shit.” What the hell was she supposed to do with him? “This is where I call the police, right?”

  Hello? 911? The hottest man I’ve ever seen (also the best kisser and best-smelling guy ever) just accosted me and is now passed out on my—

  She watched with mouth agape as JB crawled into Aidan’s lap and settled comfortably, nuzzling his gray and black head into her dream guy’s abdomen. Aidan lifted his hand and rubbed her cat behind the ears, even though he was obviously sick as a dog. The tender gesture made her feel all mushy inside.

  “Please don’t,” he breathed, his head falling back. “You know me. You…me…you and I…” He yawned, and looked adorable. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to fall asleep like this. I’ve never felt this crappy in my life. And your couch is comfortable.”

  “Yeah, well…Don’t mention it,” she said lamely. “But you should take something for that fever.” Before she knew what she was doing, Lyssa walked into the kitchen and fetched a bottle of Tylenol. Her hands shook as she opened it.

  Aidan.

  She had known his name. Surely that meant she knew him. Why the hell couldn’t she remember?

  The ringing of the phone caused her to jump and drop the bottle on the floor. Lucky for her, the childproof cap hung in there. She leaned over the sink and grabbed the receiver, glancing aside to see her guest fast asleep on her couch. The sight of him, so large and formidable, now sprawled and relaxed, made her sigh. Even wearing ill-fitting clothes, Aidan Cross made her mouth water.

  “Dr. Bates,” she said in muted tones as she set the phone to her ear.

  “Hey, Doc.” Stacey’s cheerful voice was like a lifeline thrown to a drowning woman. “I’m just reminding you that we’re opening late tomorrow, because of Justin’s birthday thing at school.”

  “Gotcha. Thanks. I forgot. Again.” Lyssa rounded the breakfast bar and slid onto her customary stool so she could drink in Aidan’s dark good looks while he slept. “Stace?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Something weird is going on over here.”

  “Hot monkey sex?”

  Lyssa snorted. “Since when is hot monkey sex weird?”

  “True.”

  “Weird to me is when the doorbell rings and the most delicious man you’ve ever seen walks in, kisses you senseless, and then camps out on your couch.”

  “Oh my god!” Stacey squealed, forcing Lyssa to hold the phone away from her ear. “Chad finally got you to let him spend the night?! Go, you! Or go, Chad!”

  “Uh…no. It’s not Chad,” she whispered furiously, cupping her hand over her mouth and receiver.

  The stunned silence on the other end made Lyssa wince.

  “Wow…” Stacey gave a surprised little laugh. “No judgment here, but you know I’m dying of curiosity. Who’s the hunk on the couch?”

  “Well…you see…That’s the thing. I’m not sure.”

  “You’re not sure? Some unknown, good-looking guy came to your door, kissed you, and now he’s sitting on your couch? Yeah, that’s weird all right. I’m jealous. Shit like that never happens to me. Where’s my hunk delivery?”

  Sighing, Lyssa looked at her notepad and froze, shocked to her toes to see Aidan’s smiling face staring back at her. My god…

  “All kidding aside, Doc,” Stacey whispered conspiratorially, as if Aidan might hear her. “Do you want me to call the cops? Or are you pulling my leg?”

  Lyssa traced the drawn shape of the blatantly sensual lips she’d managed to capture so well. A childhood therapist had encouraged her to take art classes, saying the ability to commit her thoughts to paper might help her to remember her dreams and share them with her mother. It hadn’t worked for the purposes intended, but drawing was soothing to her, and she fell into the habit often.

  “Lyssa? Is everything okay?”

  “I feel like it is,” she said absently, her heart racing, making her feel dizzier than she already was. “I mean, common sense says no, but…”

  “But what? You’re killing me!”

  Sliding off the bar stool again, Lyssa straightened her shoulders. “Everything else says ’yes.’”

  “Okay, listen. You take a picture of this guy and then hide your camera in your car. Stick a note in the bag with his name—Oh! Can you get his wallet?”

  “Stacey!” Lyssa laughed. “I think he’s okay. Jelly Bean loves him.” She stared at the sofa, where JB slept in Aidan’s lap like an angel…

  Are you an angel?

  No, darling. I’m not.

  “No way,” Stacey scoffed. “JB doesn’t like anyone, not even Justin, and everyone loves my kid.”

  “He’s a great kid.” Suddenly Lyssa’s smile was genuine. Something inside her knew the man in her living room—and liked him. A lot. “I’m going to get off here, Stace. See you at ten?”

  “I better. If you don’t show up to work, I’m coming over with the National Guard. What’s this guy’s name anyway?”

  “Aidan Cross.”

  “I like it! Sounds edible.”

  “He is.” Lyssa rounded the counter and bent to pick up the Tylenol. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll expect to hear everything, Doc.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Bye.” Hitting the off button, Lyssa set the handset on the granite top and filled a glass with chilled water dispensed through the fridge door. Then she moved to the living room and knelt on the floor next to the couch.

  Leaning forward, she touched Aidan, unable to help herself. She ran a hand through the short lock of hair that hung over his forehead, and his eyes fluttered open.

  A soft smile curved his lips. “I’m glad to be here with you.”

  “Charmer.” She swallowed down t
he lump in her throat. If it weren’t for the fierce intelligence in those dark sapphire eyes, she would think he might be a little touched in the head. Hot guys weren’t usually so sweet. “I bet you say that to all the ladies you barge in on.”

  “I’ve never said that to anyone in my life, Hot Stuff.”

  “Stop it. You’re making me sappy.”

  The feeling of déjà vu struck her again.

  “Promise me…” Aidan yawned while reaching for her hand. “Promise me you’ll eat something while I nap. And don’t fall asleep.”

  Her brows arched. “No?”

  He shook his head, his gaze intent on her face. “No. Stay awake until I get up.”

  “Okay.” She cupped his cheek and felt his high temperature, just before he shivered violently. “But you have to promise to take these.”

  Shaking two tablets out of the bottle and into her hand, Lyssa made him swallow them, despite his wince of displeasure, then she arranged him on the couch and covered him with her throw. JB moved up to his standard spot on the armrest with an irritated flick of his tail.

  “Eat,” Aidan ordered. “No sleep.”

  “I got it.”

  Lyssa watched him fall into a fitful slumber, and studied his features for a long time after that. Then she made herself a sandwich and sat at the dining table with her book about dreams and reincarnation.

  And thought about love at first sight.

  Burning.

  As awareness took over, that was first thing that registered in Aidan’s mind. A scorching breeze moved over him, blistering his skin, drying his nostrils, cracking his lips. The air was fetid, filled with the stench of death and despair.

  Opening his eyes, he found himself facing the Gateway, tied to a pole with his arms behind him. Nightmares poured out in endless, unchecked numbers. Around him, hundreds of voices shouted, casting blame at his feet for actions he couldn’t remember. He was alone except for the slender, golden-haired figure who reached for the door…

  No!

  Aidan jerked awake, startling JB, who screeched in alarm. His heart racing, it took him a moment to realize where he was. He ran both hands through his hair, wincing at the damp roots and his sticky skin.