Mine.
The urge rolled through her fierce and sudden, one that broke through her drunken haze as the gentle melody of his mouth seduced her. Liz didn’t stake claims because wanderers never got to play for keeps. The stubborn bastard found a way to break through her barriers and imprint himself on her, and that spelled bad news.
Even though she wanted to sink into this kiss and see where the night took them, this had gotten too real, too fast. Just like it did last night. She broke the kiss when her swollen lips zinged from his touch. With his hand on her waist, she’d curved against his body as if they were heading for round two.
He pulled back, caution in his eyes.
“Ky, my brain’s scrambled fierce right now. This isn’t a dismissal, but we’re not green lit either.” She placed her hands on his arms, not wanting to look into his locked and loaded gaze.
“I can be patient,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.
The man was so goddamned gorgeous it placed anyone at a disadvantage. A shiver rolled through her as she clenched her thighs tight. “Yeah, because patience is your strong suit.”
“For you? I’ve got all the time in the world.” The way he purred with his sexy as sin voice, she tamped the urge to throw caution to the wind and jump his bones anyway. But with the way things landed between them, that wouldn’t be fair to Kieran, and she refused to be part of the lineup of women who’d used him.
“You up to the challenge, rockstar?” she said as she stepped away from his grip.
“Born for it,” he said without a pause of hesitation. Once the man made a decision, no doubts lingered, and the way he spoke with a hundred percent assurance, she envied him. Hook-ups were one thing—Liz had perfected the one-night stand. However, relationships, feelings, they brought in all the complicated drama she avoided without fail. Until Kieran came marching in, refusing to back down despite the walls she tried to erect between them.
She slipped her hands into her pockets as the wind swirled around her, sending goosebumps prickling along her arms. He offered heat, hope, and danger in one irresistible package, and as much as she battled against this storm, she fought a losing battle. Because the way her heart sped around him, how she admitted truths she hadn’t to anyone else before, and how he pushed her past the discomfort to be real, to be honest, Liz had already lost.
Heartless reputation be damned, she yearned for him with a fervor she’d never felt before. The seductiveness of all his wild emotion overwhelmed her, and for that reason alone, she needed time to process the change.
“I’m going to head back to the RV,” she said, scuffing the sidewalk with the sole of her Keds.
Kieran nodded, his serious expression reflecting her sober mood. “I’ll be there in a bit. Going to have a walk around the block.” He plucked a cigarette from the pack and with the flick of his Bic, lit the end. A tuft of smoke curled into the air as he let out an exhale, even though the embers didn’t compare to the way his eyes burned while focusing on her.
She gave him a small smile and tipped her fingers in his direction, saluting before she turned on her heel. Their talks tonight stripped her bare, and she didn’t sit well with vulnerability, not with anyone. Her quick paced tread was the best she could swing without breaking into a full run to flee the scene. As she tore across the asphalt in the direction of the RV, she didn’t dare turn back. Every ounce of her begged to race to his side, explore his mouth with hers, and let those talented fingers of his captivate her anew.
However, strength came in all shapes and sizes, and Liz, she’d always been steel. He’d always done right by her, and she owed him the effort. Pushing away or drowning in lust would be too easy. Leaving again, as much as she’d miss the boys, would be as well. She’d ditched so many cities and people in the past that the process had become an effortless routine. Even now after finding out what she was, she didn’t know if she fit in with the hunters. What terrified her more than anything was the concept of staying. Of trying.
Her tongue dried as she pressed it to the roof of her mouth, trying to swallow. The faint smell of cigarette smoke traveled her way with the breeze, wrapping around her like a caress. And though she didn’t glance back, his gaze burned into her every step of the way.
****
Liz set the coffee percolating before Danica arrived. And this time, she dressed to her personal nines in what some might consider business professional. She had to borrow one of Jett’s button-downs and rolled the sleeves, since her on-the-road wardrobe consisted of ratty t-shirts, frayed jeans, and form-fitting cargoes. The coffeemaker let out a petulant hiss, but she put up with it. After the way she’d left things with Kieran last night, her body hummed. So loudly in fact, she hadn’t managed a wink of sleep.
It didn’t help she heard when he shuffled in later and sank into his bed with a creak. All the while she lay in her own bed, wishing she could take those heavy steps to cross the distance between them and slip into his. Which meant the second the sun rose over the horizon, she gave up on her farce at sleep and began dressing for the day. Because they got to pretend to work in offices, the very thing she hated.
Once the coffeemaker stopped spitting, she grabbed the handle to pull it out.
“That skirt would look better on the floor.” His silken voice glided into her ear, almost causing her to drop the coffee.
Her grip tightened around the handle, trying not to let on the heady dose of desire that rolled through her with his lips so close to her ear and the hot words on his tongue. Whatever, two could play that game.
“Where’s the mystique there?” she flirted, turning around to face him with a smirk. “Much more fun for you to guess whether or not I’m wearing panties.”
“Not. Fair.” He groaned, leaning against the kitchen counter. His gaze sparked with need, which encouraged her teasing smile.
“All’s fair, rockstar,” she said, pouring herself a mugful. She tilted her head to the coffee, and he nodded, so she pulled and poured another. Before she indulged in the steaming goodness, a knock sounded at the door, guaranteed to be their leannan sidhe friend.
“We’ll continue this later,” Kieran said as he strode to the door, a cocky smile on his lips.
Liz rolled her eyes in response, even though she couldn’t help the surge of desire filtering through her at his words. Because hell, she wanted to lick the length of his body before the night was through. Yet the pesky feelings equation held her back.
Danica followed Kieran up the steps, dressed in the most subdued clothes Liz saw her in since they’d met. No neon skirts, colorful accessories, or even spiked heels—this navy pantsuit and cream blouse stated business.
Danica caught her stare. “If we’re nosing around and asking questions, we’d best be forgettable.”
“I should be going,” Kieran argued, crossing his arms over his chest.
Liz didn’t bother restraining her smile, a wash of relief flooding through her at the return of his normal argumentative self. As much as he was a stubborn annoyance, she wouldn’t have the incubus any other way.
“You’re the one Larsen’s targeting, so that would be a resounding hell no.” Danica gave him a level glance back, not ruffled in the slightest.
“Catch up on your beauty sleep,” Liz said. “Better stay pretty for your adoring fans.”
“Didn’t know you cared so much,” he drawled, his gaze sparking as their eyes met.
Before she responded, Jett strolled in, wearing a stark white shirt, matching silver cufflinks, and a crimson slash of a tie with the same efficiency as Danica. He straightened a few strands of his coiffed ‘do as he came to a stop in front of them. “Ready to do this thing?”
Danica glanced behind him to the bunks in the back of the RV. “Broody and the Slut staying in for the day?” Even with her normal inquisitiveness, something in her tone struck Liz’s curiosity.
“Broody and the Slut—new band name, called it,” Kieran said before taking a sip of his coffee.
Danica had fixed herself a cup with cream while they’d been talking, and despite the heat curling from the surface, when Liz glanced over, the woman’s cup was half empty.
“See you lot on the other side. Sooner we pump some information from the secretaries, the sooner we can put a kibosh on back alley naga visits.” Jett delivered one of his business slick grins in response.
Liz groaned. “Of course, that means you’re going to sleep with the whole batch.”
A smirk on his face, Jett didn’t respond as he strode to the front of the RV.
“Stay put,” Liz warned Kieran, even though based on the mischievous look on his face, he’d ceased listening.
He pointed to himself, brows lifted. “Not a dog.”
The impulse struck her, and she leaned in, her breasts brushing against his rock-hard frame and her fingers trailing along his neck. “Then why can I hear you panting?” she whispered before spinning around and quick-stepping it after Jett. A giddy grin struck her face, and she didn’t bother turning back.
Danica followed suit at once, and all three of them piled out of the RV, making their way up the street for the steps leading underground to the light rail.
This early in the morning, swarms of suits bustled along the sidewalks, heading in and out of the skyscrapers looming overhead. Liz led the charge down the steps to the rail, ignoring the flickering overhead light. People flooded in and out of the place, from punks clutching their skateboards to the crew of had-to-be lawyers straightening their suitcases. Out of all the cities she’d been to, this one had one of the most efficient public transportation systems, and in a matter of minutes, the car screeched to a halt, the doors hissed open, and they entered the train.
Danica plopped into one of the open seats, and Liz followed suit while Jett clung to the pole, edgy like he always got in crowded spaces.
“So what’s with the long looks between you and Kieran?” Danica murmured, her chocolate eyes gleaming with mischief.
If she wanted to tango, Liz was game. “I’m a little more curious as to whether Broody or the Slut has you interested,” she dished back.
“You’re good, darling,” she purred, a feline smile rolling to those full lips.
Liz pitied whatever boy she pursued, because a woman like her was a formidable force. As fast as they’d gotten on, the train lurched to a halt at their stop.
“Quit wasting time,” Jett said, weaving his way to the doors. The crowds had him at his most snappish, so they were best moving past them as quick as possible. The moment they emerged at the top of the steps, sunlight poured on them in buckets, a result of this gorgeous, cloudless day. It glowed off the surface of the nearest building, a glass monolith glittering under the sun.
“Their offices are in there,” Danica said, shielding her eyes against the glare. “Who’s ready to play pretend?”
“Do it every day.” Jett winked, puffing his chest forward and putting his chiseled profile in full display. No wonder the panties dropped around him. Liz had fallen victim before.
“We’re from the bank, wanting to clarify certain transactions to the Lotus Den, yes?” Liz reached back to straighten her ponytail. They hadn’t even stepped in, and nerves jittered through her. Maybe she should’ve stayed back with the guys. Offices struck the match of memories she no longer wanted burning.
Danica lifted the suitcase she carried. “I even printed logo stationary and statements for the occasion. Let’s get our whammy on.”
The bone-white steps were on display from where they stood in front of the glass doors. Jett leaned over to squeeze her shoulder, as if he sensed the anxiety dripping off her. “You’ve got this,” he said.
She forced the grin, returning her plastic mask into place. After all, they had too many close calls with these assassins Kieran’s brother kept sending. Any chance to put the kibosh, she’d take it.
Danica grabbed the glass door and opened it. “After you,” she said, gesturing inside.
Sucking in a deep breath, Liz ignored the memories crowding in her mind and put on a brave face. She was one of the openly declared enemies of the fae walking straight into their territory. No big deal.
Chapter Twenty
“Color me shocked,” Trevor drawled, pacing in front of Kieran. “You listened for once?”
A cocky grin played on Kieran’s face as he leaned into the booth, arms spread out on either side. “Who said anything about listening? I’m giving them a head start.”
No way in hell would he leave Liz to stride into the place by herself after how jumpy she’d been in Danica’s office. He wasn’t blind—the girl had her share of damage, and she, like Jett, fit in the repress it and forget it camp. However, everyone on board this RV had damage. If anything, his past gave him more of an impetus to embrace life to its fullest. What better way to spit in his parents’ faces than by finding happiness?
“What do you have in mind?” Renn stalked into the room, his hair a mess and half-dressed as usual with his shirt off and his cargos struggling to cling to his hips.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Trevor said, his grin reaching his eyes with a knowing gleam. “Liz is going to murder you.” Despite the couple day setback, Trev managed to quash the whiplash of running into his old master and made quick headway in returning to his usual calm self.
“She can try. We’ll be too busy playing distraction. Who’s going to pay attention to a couple of bankers when rockstars are visiting?” Kieran hopped up from his seat, retrieving the messenger bag that slumped in the corner beside him. The several knives in there should’ve been enough armament, but in case his incubus charms didn’t work right, he slipped a pistol in the waistband of his jeans.
“Renn, you want to meet some hot secretaries, right?” Kieran baited, knowing he didn’t need to ask. None of the guys were the sit at home with the candles burning sort.
“As much as we want the ladies melting, I’m thinking you’re best putting a shirt on, brother,” Trevor said, casting a glance over to Renn who poked around the kitchen cabinets sans-shirt.
With a shrug, Renn strolled to the bunks, and a crash followed the bang of a drawer as he wrestled himself into clothing.
Trevor reached into his pockets and pulled out a butterfly knife, followed by a few checks to the boot knives he carried before popping them into place. “Can’t wait to see the faces Danica makes when we come crashing in on her well-constructed plan,” he murmured, a slow smile rolling to his face.
Kieran arched a brow but didn’t say anything as he marched his way to the front of the RV. The second Renn skidded out of the back with a rumpled button-down on, Kieran hopped down the steps and broke out into the beautiful sunlit day.
Time to go stir up shit.
****
The stale lighting of the Rembrandt Offices wasn’t doing any favors for his tanned skin, though Kieran never needed perfect lighting when he could seduce with his voice or a single touch. Not like he intended on bedding the folks he used his mojo on. The talk with Liz last night strengthened his convictions. She had a bucket of reservations and logical arguments against why they would never work, but desire burned in her eyes every time she stared his way.
The woman might be immune to his abilities, but he’d always been able to sense desire. After he stopped devouring chi during casual flings, he’d been fueling up at shows even if he was a little hungrier than normal. Until he locked lips with Liz O’Brien. He’d never burst with this explosion of energy in his life.
Trevor and Renn kept pace with him as he strode down the paisley carpeted corridor. Ahead, a set of glass doors spelled out Rembrandt Company in white vinyl lettering. He more than prepared to bust the door down and put on a show, even if he didn’t have a clue as to what story they were rolling with. Kieran never worked well with drawn-out plans anyway. He’d drop in, follow his gut, and go with the punches.
Hand on the handle, Kieran opened the door. In the foyer, a cream desk spanned most of the reception area with seve
ral chairs along the walls and magazines piled high on side tables as if he’d stepped into a doctor’s office. A corridor stretched out in both directions, leading to the individual offices, though he hadn’t spent much time researching into what this company did. He probably should’ve.
Four women sat at computers behind the tall desk in the foyer, one of them on the phone. The second the three of them stepped into the room, all eyes honed their way and not because ripped jeans and piercings weren’t office appropriate. Lust dripped from the women’s gazes upon approach, and Kieran took full advantage of the attention, walking up to lean on the counter.
“Not wanting to be a nuisance, but I came to clear a family matter.” He flashed a ladykiller grin, one that worked a thousand times in the past. For a fae-run company, these ladies were as human as they came, and a slight flush broke out on the cheeks of the brunette he talked to.
“What can we do to help you?” she asked, her voice coming in a bit breathy. The woman tucked her curly hair behind her ears while the other receptionist spent a couple of minutes tugging her V-neck into place to reveal a slip of cleavage.
“Do you happen to know who my brother’s been consulting with here? His name is Larsen Blackmore. I was confused with him when I went out the other night, and I wanted to make sure there’s no trouble going on in the family.” He leaned forward a little closer and lifted his hand with a mock whisper. “I think he’s got a gambling problem.”
The brunette tilted her head to the computer screen at once, and her fingers flew, clack-clacking on the keypad. A loud laugh came from the girl next to her at whatever Trevor murmured, and based on the way the woman on the phone kept turning and gaping she wasn’t paying any attention to whoever talked on the other end.
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