by Elisa Adams
He thrust harder, the feel of her nails digging into his shoulders blurring his vision. He leaned down and took one of her peaked nipples between his teeth, rolling the erect flesh gently. When he had her gasping for breath, he moved on to the other nipple, laving it with long, slow, swirling strokes. When he pulled back, he made the mistake of looking into her eyes. The emotions he saw there mirrored what he felt inside, rough and raw and deep. Her questioning gaze snagged his, tugged at his heart. She wasn’t nearly as cold as she wanted everyone to think. Not even close. The realization nearly broke him. “Merida, I—”
She silenced him with a finger on his lips. “Don’t think right now, okay?”
He couldn’t agree more. Thinking, in this particular situation, had become very dangerous to his mental health. He tried to push his concentration to the purely physical. He gripped her hips and thrust harder into her just as her body tightened and she shuddered with another climax. He followed her soon after, biting into her shoulder as his release slammed through him. She dug her heels into his ass and held him there, milking his cock completely. He glanced down at her, at the same questioning, confused look in her eyes. Not knowing what else to do, he leaned down and kissed her.
Uncertainty ate at his senses, every cell in his body screaming that she was the one. But she couldn’t be. He’d met the one woman right for him—and lost her four hundred years ago. He wasn’t willing to risk his heart again. He broke the kiss and, with a heavy sigh, picked Merida up and carried her to his bed. He planned to keep her there for the rest of the night—if not longer.
Chapter Seven
Royce rolled over in the big bed, the sense of a warm body next to him filling his subconscious. He sighed and wrapped his arms around the woman next to him. Merida. The one woman he hadn’t been able to get his mind off during the past year. Every other woman—and there hadn’t been as many as she’d seemed to think—had been her. He worried about her reaction to what they’d done. Would she run away like she had before? He hoped she wouldn’t. He didn’t want to be responsible for driving her away when Wil needed her help.
Her tongue ran down the length of his arm and he tangled his fingers in her warm soft…fur?
He jumped out of bed, his feet smacking the cold hardwood floor as his gaze hit the giant cat in bed with him. He backed into the wall and blinked at the animal. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Merida?”
She jumped off the bed with feline grace, stalking toward him on huge black paws. She stopped in front of him and rubbed her head against his leg, her tail wrapping around his bare calf. He stood in front of her, bare naked, and didn’t like the way her glowing green eyes focused on certain parts.
“Stop it. That’s enough.”
He could swear he saw her smile. Her cat form shifted and morphed, turning into the human he liked much better. His breathing slowed as she stood, dragging her palms up his body. “What’s the matter, stud? Can’t handle a little kitty cat first thing in the morning?”
Was it morning already? Shit. How had he managed to sleep through an entire night? A quick glance at the clock confirmed what she said. It was a little after six in the morning. He moved away from her and dug out some clothes. “Get dressed, kitty. We’ve got a few things to discuss before I go to bed.”
“How can you possibly be tired? You slept most of the night.”
“Yeah, and you damn near killed me yesterday evening. I’m not exactly young. I need some time to recover.”
And some time to get over the shock of going to bed with a woman and waking up with a cat. He let out a harsh breath. Things didn’t seem as perfect in the light of day as they had the night before.
* * * * *
“You knew what I was when you slept with me, idiot. If you can’t handle it, stay out of my bed.” She should have known something like this would happen. Yes, she’d deliberately provoked him, waking him up in cat form, but she’d had to know. She’d seen something in his eyes the night before that had led her to believe…something she had no business hoping for. She knew Royce well enough to understand his aversion to commitment.
She grabbed the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her. “What were you thinking, anyway? Why did you even touch me?”
“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe that we should take advantage of the mutual chemistry between us?”
She snorted. “Damn it, if you hadn’t—”
“Oh, don’t you start that now. You’re not going to go blaming this on me. You’re the one who…”
She watched him struggle for a response until he finally gave in and shook his head. “Okay, fine. Maybe this time it was my fault. But I didn’t hear you trying to stop me. Not once. You wanted what happened just as much as I did. You told me to fuck you!”
Her face flamed and she had to turn away to prevent him from seeing how he affected her. The hum of her blood, the increase in her heartbeat, the moisture that pooled between her legs—whenever he got close, her body reacted that way. “Okay. Fine. I practically begged you to fuck me. I wanted you. At the time. But now that I can think clearly, I realize what a mistake it was. Again. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“Bullshit.”
Bullshit? Yeah. It was. She swiped a hand across her forehead. “I’m sorry. We were both stressed. You offered comfort. I took it.”
“Comfort? Woman, are you out of your mind? There wasn’t anything remotely comforting about what happened. It was sex—in its most basic and elemental state. And it was amazing. Better than last time. Better than anything.” He stepped closer and drew his finger down the center of her throat to the hollow of her collarbone, flicking gently. “Do you have a problem with dirty, kitty?”
His voice held a husky promise that brought to mind the tearing of clothing, hot and sweaty bodies, illicit uncontrolled sex—she ducked away and moved across the room. Just his scent alone was enough to soak her panties if she’d been wearing any. And the way he called her kitty—it should have pissed her off. It should have made her want to rip his head off. It didn’t. It made her want to rip his clothes off instead.
“Do you have a problem with dirty?” he asked again, coming up behind her. His breath tickled her shoulder as he spoke. “Answer my question.”
“No, I don’t have a problem with dirty.” She spun on him, her hands on her hips. “I have a problem with vampires. I can’t stand them. Panthicenos and vampires don’t get along. It’s a fact of life.”
He leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, a self-satisfied grin plastered on his chiseled face. “Seems to me we got along fine up until a few minutes ago.”
For crying out loud! She growled in frustration. What had she ever done in her life to deserve this kind of torture? “If we get along so well, bloodsucker, why is it that I want to tear you apart right now?”
He leaned closer and nipped her earlobe. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
Okay. That’s it. “This is getting us nowhere. I have to go find Wil.”
She nearly smiled at the jealous irritation that flashed in his eyes when she mentioned Wil’s name. “Why do you need to find him?”
“He said he’d try to get me the information I need. Remember? I’m going to get dressed and go downstairs to wait. I would think he’ll be here soon if he’s not already.”
She swung the door open and jumped back in surprise when she saw Wil standing there, his hand poised to knock. She tightened her grip on the sheet as his gaze moved down her body. “Do you mind?”
He shrugged with an indifference that bothered her. “Sorry. You flash it in my face, of course I’m gonna look. I’m a guy. Anyway, I called a friend at the library and got her to dig up some information for you. I wanted to drop it by before I head into town for a…uh, meeting. I heard yelling. I wanted to make sure you two weren’t killing each other.”
“Well, I guess you came at the right time, because I was just about to strangle your friend. He’ll have to thank you for sa
ving his life.”
She pushed past Wil and hurried down the hall to her room. Once safely behind the closed door, she flopped against it and slid to the floor. What had she gotten herself into?
Chapter Eight
Michelle faced Wil over her coffee cup, her eyes narrowed. She tapped her fingernails against the cup handle, the noise grating on his already frayed nerves. “Something very strange is going on here.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you there.” And you don’t even know the half of it.
“So are you going to tell me what it is?”
He raised an eyebrow at the question he’d been expecting since arriving ten minutes earlier. “What makes you think I have any idea what you’re talking about?”
She let out a sigh as her gaze dropped to the table. A familiar-looking waitress stopped by the table and set down Michelle’s plate of breakfast. Her uncertain gaze flickered to Wil. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No, thanks. Just the water is fine.”
She gave a small shrug as she turned to walk away. “Suit yourself.”
Michelle cleared her throat. “You’re acting a little odd this morning, William.” She reached across the table and brushed her fingers against the back of Wil’s hand. He pulled back.
“Am I?” He took a sip of his water, swirling the straw around in the glass and clinking the ice cubes together. “I hadn’t noticed.”
He stifled a yawn, wanting only to be back at home in bed. Hopefully she’d get to her point quickly and he could leave. He didn’t want to be anywhere near her, but he didn’t want to miss any information she had that might help Merida.
“Yes. Do you think it’s normal to wear sunglasses in a restaurant? It’s not even that bright in here.”
“It’s bright enough.” He pushed the sunglasses further up his nose and leaned back against the worn vinyl-covered bench. “I worked last night. I’m tired, and my eyes are sensitive.”
She shook her head, her expression telling him she clearly didn’t believe him, but she let it go. “Something about those murders has you worried. I’d like to know what it is.”
He heaved a sigh and ran his hands down his face. Damn it. He’d be lucky if he didn’t fall asleep behind the wheel on the way home. “Nothing special. The whole situation is troubling. Any murder, especially here, tends to cause a bit of worry.”
“But this is different.” She pinned him with an accusing glare. “Isn’t it?”
“Well, it isn’t every day that people are mutilated in Caswell. Did you invite me here to interview me? Cause I’ve got to tell you, after a long night I’m not really in the mood.”
“No. I didn’t.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and hunger curled low in his gut. “I’m worried. Things have been a little…odd lately.”
He sat up, his interest now piqued by her halting sentence—and her anxious tone of voice. “What do you mean?”
“You’re going to think this sounds kooky, but I’ve been having these weird dreams.” She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and tried to smile. Her attempt fell flat, her face paling a shade. “I’ve been dreaming about my father. Did I ever tell you about him?”
Wil shook his head. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like where this was going. “I don’t think you have.”
“He’d never wanted kids. At least that’s what my mother told me growing up. That was why he’d never wanted to see me.” She gave a shaky laugh before her expression once again grew serious. “He was a real estate developer in Texas. He cared more about his work than raising a family, so he divorced my mother when she got pregnant with me. She moved to Caswell to live with her sister after my father kicked her out.”
She paused and sighed, pushing her untouched food around her plate with her fork. When she looked up at him again, he saw the pain clearly in her gaze—along with a good dose of fear. He waited on edge to hear the rest of her story. This could be the break they’d been looking for.
“Is your father still alive?” he asked when she remained silent.
She shook her head. “He was killed when I was ten. My mother told me he’d had a heart attack, but once I was old enough to be curious about her story, I did some research and found out he’d been murdered.”
Wil leaned forward, hanging on her every word. Something Merida had said came back to him. Either the demon is attached to the property, or to a person. Had the truth about the murders been right in front of him the whole time? “Did they ever catch the murderer?”
“No. I asked my mom about it, but she refused to talk.” She closed her eyes, looking close to tears. “She killed herself not too long after I tried to talk to her about it, so I never got the chance to ask again.”
He’d known Michelle’s mother had committed suicide a few years ago, but he didn’t know the details. “How did she die?”
Michelle blinked up at him, anger and confusion in her eyes. “What?”
“How did she die?” he repeated, his heart racing. “How exactly did she take her life?”
“She slit her wrists. God, Wil, do you have to be so morbid?”
“Occupational hazard.” No one had ever accused him of having too much tact. “Sorry if I upset you.”
Her glare softened a little and she shrugged. “Whatever. I know you don’t care about anything involving emotions, but it hurt when my mom killed herself. I know I hadn’t been the best daughter, but I’d tried. I just couldn’t be what she expected me to be.”
“And what was that?”
“Good. I couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble.”
Ideas began clicking in his head, too fast for him to latch onto anything specific. He didn’t know much about demons and their capabilities, but Michelle’s story sounded a little strange. He made a show of checking the time on his watch. “You know what? I have to get home and get some sleep. It’s going to be another long night, and I don’t want to be tired.” He needed to get back and discuss the latest twist with Merida. He took out his wallet and handed Michelle a twenty. “This should take care of your meal, and the tip. I’ll give you a call later, okay?”
He was already out the door and halfway to the side street where he’d parked his car when she caught up with him. “Where are you running off to? I asked you to meet me so we could have a talk. I didn’t expect you to run out fifteen minutes after you got here.”
“I’m leaving. You know how it is. I’ve got to get some sleep before I drop.” Sleep was now the furthest thing from his mind.
She glared at him with a mix of irritation and anxiety that caused him to draw up short. “I would have thought you, of all people, would be willing to listen to my story.”
“I did listen, didn’t I?”
“Only part of it. I didn’t get to tell you about my dreams.”
He sighed in resignation as he leaned his hip on one of the green painted benches that lined the sidewalk. “Okay. Tell me about them.”
She shook her head, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t care.”
“Obviously it mattered, or you wouldn’t have asked me to meet you.” He tried to focus on Michelle, but the sun beating on his skin killed him. He felt like he was being eaten alive. After having no sleep the night before, his resistance had gotten too low to spend any lengthy amount of time outside during the day. He didn’t want to end up with permanent scarring.
“The dreams… I don’t remember much about them. They’re an odd, jumbled mess that I can barely recall when I wake up. But they remind me of something my mother always told me growing up.”
“What is that?”
“That my father had sold his soul to the devil, and that was why I couldn’t control myself.”
A cold chill shot through Wil and he sucked in a sharp breath. The devil? Not possible. But a demon…he needed to discuss this with Merida. Maybe Michelle had simply been a high-strung child. Or maybe she had deeper, far more sinister problems.
“
I know she didn’t mean it,” Michelle said softly. “Not really. But, well, I don’t know what to think. I guess I just thought you should know about that. I don’t know how, but it might help with your investigation.”
He pushed away from the bench and walked toward his car, the noise of the birds chirping combined with everything running through his head giving him a headache. “Thanks. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I appreciate the thought.”
She ran after him, snagging the back of his shirt with her fingers. “Stop running away! I’m trying to tell you something here. Why can’t you be there for me when I need you?”
“I know what happened to your neighbors hit you hard, but I can’t discuss any of that with you. You know that. With your job, you should be a little more understanding.”
“Why should I give you understanding when you can’t give it to me?” There was a pleading look in her eyes he couldn’t decipher—and didn’t care to.
He had more important things to think about than an attention-starved reporter looking for a good story. And if half of what she’d told him today was true, he had to get back to Merida right away with the information before someone else got hurt. If the demon had been attached to Michelle’s father, or family, anyone around her could be in a lot of danger.
“We’ll talk about it later. Why don’t I take you out in a couple of days?”
She shook her head, a flash of panic lighting her eyes for a brief moment before anger replaced it. “I don’t think so. You were right to try to break this off a couple weeks ago. A cup of coffee before we go back to my place and spend a few hours in bed doesn’t exactly constitute a date. You don’t even spend the night, and you refuse to see me anytime during the day. It’s more like you want me around when you want to screw, but completely ignore me when you’re not in the mood.”