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Hotter After Midnight

Page 9

by Cynthia Eden


  He fought the curve of his lips. “Yeah, I don’t like that too much either.”

  “I also think it’s good that someone’s nervous out there.” She lifted her chin, still gazing into the darkness. “It means we’re on the right track.”

  His lips tightened. “It’s a dangerous track, Doc.” And he didn’t like her being in danger. When that bastard had put his hands around her throat—

  “Despite what you think, Gyth, I’m not some delicate flower.” She finally looked at him. There was determination in her eyes—determination and, unless he was mistaken, excitement.

  He realized the doc liked the thrill of danger. She enjoyed the hook of adrenaline that came from staring straight into fear.

  Oh, but he could really like this woman.

  “No, you aren’t delicate,” he agreed, remembering the way she’d attacked the guy who’d tried to jump him from behind. The bastard was probably still tasting his balls.

  The doc was a hell of a lot stronger than he’d originally thought, but the fact remained that she was human. And the guys who attacked him, the demons, they could easily kill her.

  As for the shifter, the “Night Butcher,” well, he’d be even worse. A human would never stand a chance against a guy like that. Emily would never stand a chance.

  “You’re not going to shut me out,” Emily said, and he wondered for an instant if she’d used her powers to read his mind. “Threats from two-bit demons aren’t going to make me run.”

  Threats might not, but what if those demons got ahold of her? What if they caught her when he wasn’t around, when he couldn’t protect her?

  But she burned out a demon once, he reminded himself. She burned out the guy who’d tried to attack her—

  And nearly wound up in a coma.

  No, the doc wasn’t cut out for fighting demons or shifters.

  But she was in this thing now. The demons knew about her involvement.

  “It’s only going to get rougher from now on,” he warned. The closer they got to the killer, the more dangerous the situation would become.

  “I know.” Simple, clear words. No hint of fear.

  He held out his hand to her, palm up. She glanced down at his offered hand for a moment, her brows wrinkling. Then slowly, very slowly, she placed her palm against his.

  His fingers instantly curled around hers. “You ready for everything that’s going to happen?” And he wasn’t just talking about the case. About the danger. He was talking about them. About the hot tension he felt every second he was with her.

  Emily gave a brief nod. “You’re going to need me, every step of the way.”

  Oh, he didn’t doubt that. His body was already hard with need for her. The leftover battle-ready tension still coursed through him.

  But she was right about the case too. Whether he liked it or not—and he most definitely did not—he needed her special gift to unmask the killer.

  Together, they’d keep hunting the Night Butcher. Be partners, of a sort.

  He’d make absolutely certain he watched her back. At all times.

  The uniforms were talking quietly behind them. The siren no longer blared into the night, but the blue and white lights still lit the alley with a swirl of color.

  He wanted to get the doc alone. Wanted to get her out of that damn smelly alley. Wanted to get her home, where she’d be safe.

  Where he could hold her, strip her. Take her.

  He’d leashed the beast when the uniforms arrived. Managed to stop the shift. But the adrenaline in his body was running thick and hard through his veins, and it was feeding the monster. Making it stronger. Making it want, making it need…

  Emily.

  His fingers tightened around hers. It was definitely time to call it a night. While he still could. “Come on,” he muttered, “let’s get the hell out of here.” They could talk to the cops more later.

  Emily glanced back along the alley. A small shiver worked its way over her body. Colin fought the urge to pull her against him, to warm her, to hold her.

  Don’t want the uniforms to see me do that. Gossip spreads in the PD like wildfire.

  “The other person I sensed—” Emily bit her lip for a moment. “He was strong, Colin. Very strong.”

  “Was he a demon?” She’d mentioned Niol before. Had it been him? Had he been angry that they’d invaded his precious club? Had he sent his errand boys to try and give them a scare?

  “Yes. A level ten, at least.”

  Again with the levels. He still wasn’t sure what that meant, but he figured there was no way being a level-ten demon could be a good thing.

  He needed to learn more about the demon world, and he needed to learn fast.

  Colin started walking toward his Jeep, pulling Emily along with him. He couldn’t see his vehicle, and he sure hoped the demons hadn’t trashed his ride.

  “Hey, Detective Gyth, wait, we need to—”

  Colin threw a hard look over his shoulder. “I’ll call the station,” he snapped, cutting across the uniform’s words. They’d been out in the open long enough. He wanted to get the doc to safety, and he wanted to get some answers from her.

  “We need your statements, you just can’t—”

  “Yeah, I can.” He kept walking. Giving a statement wasn’t exactly his top priority right then. He needed to be careful what he revealed to the other cops. It wasn’t like he could just say that a couple of demons had roughed him up.

  The last time he’d tried talking about the Other, his partner hadn’t taken it well.

  No, Mike hadn’t taken the situation at all well.

  And when Colin had shifted, hoping to prove to his partner that his words were true, well, then things had truly gone to hell.

  Because Mike, the guy who’d watched his back on the street, the guy who’d graduated by his side at the academy, had pulled his gun and tried to kill him.

  Sometimes folks just didn’t take well to the truth.

  So lying was the only option.

  It was a pity that a cop had to lie. But, well, lying was better than dying.

  It was a philosophy that worked for him.

  They rounded the street corner. The Jeep was waiting, not a scratch on it.

  Colin exhaled a rough sigh of relief. He opened the passenger door for Emily, ushering her inside. He wanted to get out of that neighborhood, fast.

  But he’d be back. He planned to come back and have a nice, long chat with Niol.

  He didn’t trust the demon, not for a minute.

  Colin hurried around the Jeep and jumped inside. A patrol car cruised past him. Good. At least backup had arrived and they were searching for the perps.

  Though it was doubtful they’d find the bastards.

  He drove quickly through the night. Traffic was slim, the streets dark. Emily sat quietly beside him, but he could practically feel the hum of her thoughts.

  He turned off the interstate, took a left at the stoplight.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Emily had finally snapped out of her reverie. “This isn’t the way to my house!”

  No, it wasn’t. Colin shifted easily and kept driving. “I’m not taking you home tonight.” It’d be too dangerous. Those demons could be waiting for her.

  Definitely not a risk he was willing to take.

  Besides, he wanted her with him, wanted—

  “Then where are you taking me?” From the corner of his eye, he saw her fingers clenching around the door handle.

  “Relax, Doc.”

  “Where. Are. You. Taking. Me.”

  “My place.”

  “The hell you are!” He heard the faint scrape of her nails digging into the upholstery. “Turn this Jeep around and take me home.”

  “Sorry, Doc, no can do.” Not that he wanted to, anyway. “In case you’ve forgotten, there are demons after us.”

  “I haven’t forgotten—”

  “And as an officer on the Atlanta PD, it’s my responsibility to keep you safe.” Oh, th
at sounded good. And it was true, mostly.

  He did want to keep her safe.

  He also wanted her.

  So whether the doc liked it or not, she was going home with him.

  And once they got to his place, well, what happened next would be entirely up to her.

  Chapter 6

  “You’re playing He-man again,” Emily muttered as she paced in front of the fireplace. She would not admit, would not, that she actually liked his place. Liked the homey, relaxed feel of the wooden house.

  Colin had gone all king-of-the-jungle on her again. Hadn’t asked if she wanted to spend the night at his place. No, he’d done the whole I’m-a-man-I’ll-keep-you-safe routine on her. It made her want to scream.

  “In case you’ve forgotten,” she snapped, “I saved your ass tonight.”

  “And I saved yours.” He was leaning against the fireplace mantel, his arms crossed over his chest. “Guess that makes us even.”

  “Even?” Not in her book. She hadn’t kidnapped him.

  “Relax, Doc. You can go back to your nice house tomorrow. But I can’t let you leave tonight. It’s too dangerous.”

  “And it won’t be dangerous tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow those bastards might not be on the street. The uniforms could pick them up tonight.” He stared at her, his blue gaze hard and determined. “Get used to the idea, Doc; you’re staying here.”

  If she wanted, she could leave. She could stomp out of the house, use her cell phone, and call for a taxi to take her home. She didn’t have to listen to Colin, but…dammit, he was right. It was safer for her to stay at his place for the night. Until they found out who’d sent those goons after them, it made sense to stick together, but she didn’t have to like the situation.

  And she definitely didn’t like the idea of staying at Colin’s house, alone with him.

  Her heart was beating too fast, and a tight ball had lodged in her stomach from the moment she’d realized where Colin was taking her.

  What would happen? What did she want to happen?

  “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, Doc?” Colin inclined his head toward the couch. “I’ve got to go clean up.” Then he was gone, disappearing down the hallway, quietly shutting a door behind him.

  Emily frowned. The man had nearly ran from the room. Pretty much mid-argument. That was odd.

  “Colin?” She stepped toward the hallway. The wooden floor creaked beneath her. “Colin, are you all right?” Now that she thought about it, there had been a tension on his face. And he’d looked the slightest bit pale.

  He just fought off four men. It stands to reason the man would look pale and tense.

  She crept forward. “Colin?”

  A nagging worry filled her. What if he was hurt? Trying to hide his wounds?

  She could hear the rush of running water. Emily paused next to a white door. The bathroom, she figured. She didn’t want to burst in if nothing were wrong, but…

  Something isn’t right. Her instincts were on high alert. Her fingers curled around the doorknob. “Can you hear me?”

  He jerked the door open. Stood gazing down at her, his chest bare, red water dripping from his fingers.

  Red water. Blood. “Oh God, you’re hurt!”

  Colin stepped back, shoved his hands under the pouring water that sprayed from the faucet.

  “Colin?” She grabbed his arm. Felt his muscles tense. “Dammit, where are you hurt?”

  His hands clenched beneath the water. “The blood’s not mine.”

  Not his? Emily yanked his hands up, stared at the now-glistening fingers. There wasn’t so much as a scratch on him.

  She looked up, gazing into his eyes. He was close to her, so close that the warmth of his body surrounded her. Her eyes fell to his chest. Bare. Strong. Tight, with hard muscles. Covered with a light coating of midnight black hair.

  Emily swallowed and realized that she was still holding his hands. Realized that her fingers had begun to stroke the back of his palms.

  Realized that she wanted him.

  Following Colin had been a mistake. “I-I should let you—” Do what? Finish stripping? The mental image that immediately flashed through her mind sent a wave of heat spiraling between her thighs. “Umm, I’ll wait in the den.” She was definitely sex deprived. One look at a man’s chest and she was reduced to a stuttering mess.

  Emily forced her hands to release his. The water still flowed behind her, and the sound seemed strangely loud in the small room.

  She stepped to the side, intending to go, to collect her lost dignity as best she could.

  “Don’t run from me, Doc.”

  “I-I’m not running.” Just walking—okay, creeping—away from the half-naked man who was making her very, very nervous.

  His hands lifted, curled around the frames of her glasses, then slowly lifted them off her.

  Emily blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the sudden change. Colin stared down at her, and his eyes—they were filled with hunger.

  For her.

  “I’m not going to do it this time, Doc.” He was staring at her lips now. Gazing at her with those hot, shining blue eyes.

  Was it her imagination or were his eyes really, really bright right then?

  His words registered after a heartbeat of time, and she didn’t understand. “Do what?”

  His arms snaked out, caught her around the middle, and pulled her ever closer to his body. She was trapped now, caged between the bathroom sink and Colin’s equally hard body.

  “Kiss you.” He leaned forward, and his breath blew lightly against her. “I’m not going to kiss you. Unless you ask.”

  His lips were so close to hers. So close. But she hadn’t come into the bathroom for this, hadn’t followed him inside because she wanted him, had she?

  “Come on, Doc. It won’t be as hard as you think.” There was nowhere for her to go, but Emily still tried to stumble back. She slipped against the edge of the sink.

  Colin caught her before she fell. Lifted her up, sat her on the cold, granite vanity. Her legs were spread, and he inched forward, pushing right between them. The thick length of his aroused flesh pressed against her. The hard muscles of his thighs seemed to burn Emily through her clothing. She squirmed against him, and instead of working herself free, she just rubbed against him, rubbed against that heavy arousal.

  Her sex clenched as a wave of raw hunger rocked through her. No, this isn’t what I planned.

  But it was exactly what she wanted.

  “Do it.” His voice was a rough rumble of temptation. His fingers were locked around her waist. She wanted him to lift his hands and cup her breasts. To push her shirt aside and take her nipples into his mouth.

  “Ask for my kiss…” His breath blew against her lips.

  She could already taste him. Her lips trembled, parted, and she heard herself whisper, “Kiss me.” But she wasn’t asking. She was demanding.

  For an instant, his lips curled in a satisfied smile, but then the hunger in his eyes flared even brighter. His fingers tightened around her.

  And his lips claimed hers.

  He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t cautious.

  His lips took. His tongue probed, drove deep into her mouth. He tasted, seduced, claimed.

  A growl sounded low in his throat. The sound was stark, animalistic. It should have scared her. He should have scared her.

  But the sound just made her hotter. Made the liquid heat between her thighs pulse even more.

  Her hands were wrapped around his arms, digging into the tight muscles of his biceps. Her mouth was open wide, her tongue rubbing, thrusting against his.

  She loved the way he kissed her. Hard. Hot. Wild. Yes, most definitely wild.

  He kissed her like he couldn’t wait to get her naked beneath him. Kissed her like he had to have her.

  Kissed her like no other man ever had.

  His fingers brushed against the underside of her breasts. They rose slowly, then his hands were cupping h
er, his thumbs brushing against her nipples.

  His mouth continued to feed on hers. His fingers—long, strong fingers—stroked her breasts, teased the aching peaks of her nipples.

  She tore her mouth from his, moaning softly. She was still sitting on the sink. Her legs were spread wide. His thick arousal pushed against her. Her fingers itched to touch him, to stroke him.

  This isn’t like me. Emily fought to regain her control in the maelstrom of lust that was overwhelming her. She wasn’t one to be driven wild with passion. Not her. Never her.

  She was the calm one, the controlled one, the six-dates-before-third-base one.

  But there was something about Colin, something that was driving straight past her barriers.

  “I want to feel you,” he muttered, the words hard, nearly indistinct. He caught the hem of her shirt, jerked it up and over her head. Colin tossed the shirt onto the floor. She heard the soft swish as it hit the tiled floor.

  He was touching her now. Skin to skin. His warm fingers, slightly rough, were smoothing up her abdomen, inching closer to her breasts.

  A thin black bra covered her. Her breasts pushed against the silky fabric.

  Colin licked his lips.

  Emily knew she should stop him. The logical part of her mind was screaming at her to push him away.

  Not the time. Not the time.

  Things were moving too fast between them. But, God, she wanted him to touch her.

  She wanted to let go of her control for just a moment. She wanted to feel.

  Yes, part of her was screaming that she should push him away, but part of her was also demanding that she pull him even closer.

  His fingers slipped under the edge of her bra. Stroked, then found her nipples. The nubs were tight, hungry, and when he shoved the bra to the side and lifted her breasts in his hands, she could see the dark pink of her aroused flesh.

  “I’ve got to taste you.”

  His head lowered toward her breast. His mouth opened; she felt the hot stir of his breath against her, then his tongue, God, his tongue swirled around the areola. A long, teasing lick that had every muscle in her body tightening.

  “Oh, that’s good.” He drew in a deep breath, then his tongue rubbed against her nipple. “Damn good.” He took her breast into his mouth, sucking strongly, drawing the peak deep inside and using his tongue, his teeth.

 

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