Midnight Renegade (Men of Midnight Book 7)
Page 27
Nick was interested in her—he’d shown that. He’d made it clear he’d like an affair. But sex didn’t mean he wanted to take all her baggage on board. It would be like lifting a thousand-ton anvil, all for a quick lay.
Though with Nick, maybe it wouldn’t be so quick…
Heat blossomed through her again, a blast of it so strong it was like a hand at her back, pushing her forward.
Sex with Nick.
So.
There it was, out in the open. In the back of her mind, she’d been thinking of sex with Nick for a while now. It was, possibly, the reason she’d agreed to dinner tonight. Kay wasn’t used to her subconscious tripping her up, but there it was. Her glands leading her around instead of her head.
Well, why not?
Who would it hurt? Her, actually, because it could only be a one-night stand, and Kay didn’t do those. She’d never had an affair that was only sex. A night of passion then disappearing forever…ouch.
Plus, she thought Nick might like something more. A two-night stand, maybe, at a minimum. A week-long affair, perhaps. Nick wasn’t known for his long-term relationships, but he wasn’t a player, either. He’d want something more than slam-bam thank you, sir, which was basically all she could offer.
But one night…oh man. Payback for all the long, lonely nights wrestling with this huge, writhing thing at the center of her life. Nights spent staring at the ceiling, slowly coming to terms with the fact that someone in an institution she admired was fundamentally evil, way beyond anything she could ever imagine.
Nick knew about that kind of evil. Grandfather Al knew, too. They knew what humans were capable of. Their enemies were the scumbags of the earth. Terrorists, rapists, murderers, abusers, the corrupt. Men whose coin was pain and fear.
Kay’s enemy her entire life had been completely different. Her enemy was nature itself. She was going to be a brick in the wall that cut mankind off from its worst enemies—cancer, heart disease, muscular dystrophy. All the illnesses the flesh was heir to.
Disease, illness, plagues—they’d always been so horrible, killing millions and millions of people throughout history. Smallpox alone was one of the most terrifying things on earth. And yet…it never failed to astonish her that people could be more dangerous than disease. More murderous, capable of much greater damage.
But Nick had known that for a long time.
She’d always thought of herself as brave. She worked in a bio-safety level 4 lab encased in body protection as strong as a space suit, but one tiny tear, one leak and she would die a horrible death. That was bravery.
Nick was braver.
She’d been so afraid these past weeks. Her heart constantly thrummed a drumbeat of terror. She’d end her day exhausted, sticky with the sweat of anxiety. Which was exactly how she woke up in the morning, too. Heartsick and terrified.
Nick wasn’t afraid of anything. She knew that about him. He’d done astoundingly heroic things. She didn’t know this from him. He never talked about it, ever. She knew it from her grandfather and from stories her friend Felicity passed on from her lover, Metal, and his guys. The guys in Nick’s new company, who’d been his teammates in the SEALs. The consensus was that Nick was a really good guy, one of the rare ones. Hard-headed, yes, stubborn as they come, but brave as a lion.
Nick the Lionheart! a teammate had yelled when Nick had run across an open field of fire with a wounded soldier in a fireman’s carry, bullets pounding the sand at his feet. Nick had thrown the wounded teammate over the threshold of the sandbag bunker and then tumbled over head first, bullets following him. Nick stood immediately, took up a station at a break in the wall of bags and started calmly picking off enemy targets, totally unmindful of the fact that a bullet had passed through the meaty part of his thigh.
Nothing ever rattled Nick.
What would it feel like to be like that? To be so fearless? To feel up to any possible physical challenge? She’d never know. But…maybe she could get close enough to him to borrow some of his courage. Touch that strong, tough body all over, feel him inside her…
Another bloom of fiery heat.
His eyebrows drew together in a V shape. She’d turned beet red again. He must be wondering whether she suffered from some kind of mental or hormonal disorder.
Maybe she was. Nick Lust Disorder.
“So,” he said casually, leaning back. “Is that a yes? Want me to beat someone up? Whack someone for you?” His tone was light but his face was deadpan. Tough and utterly inscrutable.
She sighed. “I wish.” If only this was the kind of problem you could shoot your way out of. Pity bullets couldn’t kill viruses.
They’d eaten their way through dinner, though she’d left most of hers on her plate. His had disappeared and she’d yet to take a bite of hers. He took her spoon out of her hand, dipped it into the creamy panna cotta and held it in front of her lips. When she opened her mouth, he slipped the spoon inside and she nearly fainted from the sugar rush.
“Again,” he insisted, heaped spoon at her lips. He watched as the spoon entered her mouth, pulling it out slowly, empty. His face was dark and hard. “Jesus.” He looked like he was in pain.
It nearly made her smile. “It’s just dessert, Nick.”
He wasn’t smiling at all. “Not the way you’re eating it, sweetheart. You’re making this pure sex.”
Kay blew out a breath. This was so unfair. She wasn’t trying to be sexy, though…well, with Nick Mancino across the table from her, staring at her with dark, narrowed eyes, it was hard to think of anything but sex.
“Sex,” she whispered without even realizing it. The word was in her head, in the cloud of pheromones swirling around her, even in the panna cotta. It was in the molecules of the air.
Nick wasn’t a fidgety man, but he froze into immobility. “What did you say?”
What? What was he talking about?
His face was a mask of tension. “What did you say?” he repeated.
What had she said? Kay ran the tape in her head back a minute and there it was. What she’d said.
Sex.
What was she thinking of?
“Sex,” Nick said. His dark eyes glittered. “You said sex. I heard that. Distinctly.”
Kay swallowed and nodded.
“So…” He scooted his chair closer. “Does that mean that sex is on your mind? The idea rolling around your head as a possibility? Say, in a completely theoretical and abstract way?”
“Not theoretical,” she whispered through a scratchy throat. “Not abstract.”
Nick’s face tightened and he looked at her intensely, like looking through a screen door at something from a long distance away, uncertain of what he was seeing.
“Not theoretical,” he repeated. He took the large, snowy-white linen napkin off his lap and threw it on the table. “That means practical. You’re thinking sex in a totally non-abstract and non-theoretical way. With me.”
She nodded.
His eyes were like lasers piercing into hers. The cords in his neck stood out, his jaw clenched.
This was crazy. She was sending out huge signals—like flares on a dark night—without thinking about the consequences. Careful, steady Kay, who always thought before she spoke, was now opening her mouth and wondering what would come out next.
Totally out of her control, as if her mouth was separate from her, run by someone else.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Purchase to continue reading!
Don’t miss out on my other books!
THE MIDNIGHT TRILOGY
1. Midnight Man
2. Midnight Run
3. Midnight Angel
The Midnight Trilogy Box Set
THE MEN OF MIDNIGHT
1. Midnight Vengeance
2. Midnight Promises
3. Midnight Secrets
4. Midnight Fire
5. Midnight Quest
6. Midnight Fever
MIDNIGHT NOVELLA
Midnight Sha
dows
Woman on the Run
Murphy's Law
A Fine Specimen
Port of Paradise
THE DANGEROUS TRILOGY
Dangerous Lover
Dangerous Secrets
Dangerous Passion
THE PROTECTORS TRILOGY
Into the Crossfire
Hotter than Wildfire
Nightfire
GHOST OPS TRILOGY
Heart of Danger
I Dream of Danger
Breaking Danger
HER BILLIONAIRE SERIES
Charade: Her Billionaire - Paris
Masquerade: Her Billionaire - Venice
Escapade: Her Billionaire - London
NOVELLAS
Fatal Heat
Hot Secrets
Reckless Night
The Italian
Midnight Renegade ©2019 by Lisa Marie Rice.
Published by Lisa Marie Rice
Cover Design & Formatting by Sweet 'N Spicy Designs
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Lisa Marie Rice is eternally 30 years old and will never age. She is tall and willowy and beautiful. Men drop at her feet like ripe pears. She has won every major book prize in the world. She is a black belt with advanced degrees in archaeology, nuclear physics, and Tibetan literature. She is a concert pianist. Did I mention her Nobel Prize?
Of course, Lisa Marie Rice is a virtual woman and exists only at the keyboard when writing romance. She disappears when the monitor winks off.