Erotics Anonymous - A Strangers in the Night Story

Home > Other > Erotics Anonymous - A Strangers in the Night Story > Page 9
Erotics Anonymous - A Strangers in the Night Story Page 9

by Veronica Wilde


  After several moments of moving in a dreamlike trance, Ric twirled her around to face him and drew her close again. Resting her head against his chest, she listened to his thundering heart, while their bodies moved in perfect harmony. His erection nudged her stomach, and his arousal sent another wave of raging lust through her. If the dance didn’t finish soon, she’d fall on her back on the floor, legs spread wide.

  Finally, the song ended. Carrie stepped out of the circle of Ric’s arms and looked up at him. He inclined his head and kissed her again, a long, slow exploration of her mouth right there on the crowded dance floor. He took her hand again, such a familiar, comfortable feeling already, and led her from the room.

  Back outside, the rush of cool air felt like a blessing. She lifted her overheated face into the breeze, letting it ruffle through her hair.

  “Little stuffy and smoky in there,” Ric said. “But the dancing’s fun.”

  “Thanks for taking me. It was great.”

  An awkward silence fell. She wondered if he was thinking about what would come next like she was.

  “Do you…?” she said at the same moment he asked, “Would you like to…?”

  They both laughed then she gestured at him to continue. “Go ahead.”

  “I wondered if you wanted to go back to my house for a while. Nando’s at my mom’s house. Overnight,” he added.

  Her mind raced, weighing the pros and cons of his place versus hers. She’d feel more secure on her own ground, but if she wanted to end the evening, it would be difficult to ask him to leave her apartment. At his place, she could simply make an excuse and go home.

  As the moment dragged out, Ric’s smile dimmed. “I’m sorry. That came out really sleazy, didn’t it? I don’t mean to sound like some kind of—”

  “I’d love to see your house,” she interrupted. “But I can’t stay too long, I have school in the morning.” Although I could take a sick day. When’s the last time I took a day for myself?

  “Great.” His smile lit his face, setting his eyes sparkling and calling up that delightful crease in his cheek. How could she not be entranced by a guy with a charming dimple, especially one who sang to her in Spanish, and danced with a sensuality that had her pulse pounding?

  Happy Valentine’s Day to me!

  She’s a heartless assassin; he’s an immortal thief. In another life, they would have been lovers. In this one, he’s her target and she’s his prize.

  Like a Thief in the Night

  © 2008 Bettie Sharpe

  Death comes like a thief in the night. For reclusive thief Sevastien Aniketos, death comes in the form of slinky assassin Arden Black. But Aniketos has a surprise for his would-be assassin—he is immortal. And he is about to turn the tables on the pragmatic femme fatale.

  Arden finds more than she bargained for when she sneaks through the window of Aniketos’s glass penthouse to take his life. The immortal thief is no victim; he’s a clever strategist who has set his sights on capturing the lethal lady and making her his own.

  Trapped with a man she cannot kill, Arden slowly succumbs to Aniketos’s scheme of seduction, ceding her secrets, her loyalty, and eventually her heart. But when Arden’s wicked past catches up with her, Aniketos is faced with a choice.

  An endless life without Arden, or a paltry mortal lifespan with the woman he is increasingly sure he cannot live without.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Like a Thief in the Night

  “Why?”

  He raked her with his gaze, icy blue eyes tracing the length of her body. “Aside from the obvious appeal of having a naked murderess at my complete disposal? I want information about the Darkriver Corporation’s wet works. Who better to get it from than one of their best assassins?”

  Arden could hardly deny she was an assassin; she had sneaked into the man’s penthouse and strangled him in his sleep. But she wouldn’t admit she worked for Darkriver. He would have to do more than ask politely if he wanted that information from her.

  She furrowed her brows to make an exaggerated look of confusion. “Darkriver Corporation is an international private security firm. They have contracts to police several major cities and their peacekeeping forces are active in war zones all over the world. Darkriver doesn’t employ people like me, they catch them.”

  “That was a stupid lie, Arden.” His voice was low, deadly, and threatening by its very lack of emotion.

  She had expected he would get angry with her for playing dumb, that he would hit her and threaten her. Instead, he watched her. She returned his gaze, refused to yield by looking away. Silence stretched between them—charged, intense, and strangely intimate. She had never looked a man in the eye for so long before; not the men she killed nor the men she fucked.

  Her heart beat faster. She hoped he read it as nervousness and not arousal. She had been trained to resist torture, but this was something else entirely. She wanted to fidget, to cover her body, to squeeze her muscles tight around her traitorous twat.

  She wondered why he didn’t hit her for her lack of cooperation. She wanted him to. She wanted an interaction she could understand, and violence was an old acquaintance.

  She licked her lips. His gaze darted down to focus on her tongue, on her mouth. She smiled. Curiosity wasn’t his only weakness.

  “You should be frightened.” His voice was rougher than it had been the last time he’d spoken. “You are naked and bound to a chair in a basement. I could do anything to you.”

  “But all you’ve done is talk,” she taunted. “If you were going to torture me, you’d be showing me your tools. If you planned to rape me you wouldn’t have tied my legs together. If you were going to kill me, I’d be dead by now. Excluding those options, I can only conclude your plan is to keep me here and ask me psychologically probing questions until I die of frustration or boredom.”

  “Frustration?” He took her bait.

  She raised her eyebrows and made an “O” of her mouth to create an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Oops. Was that a Freudian slip? An advanced case of Stockholm syndrome? A closet kink for kinbaku? Stop with the talk, Aniketos. I may like killing people, but I hate to kill time.”

  “You want to provoke me.”

  “Now why would I do that?”

  “You stall for time. You want me to lose my temper.”

  “What I want is for you to let me go.”

  His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Which of those knots have you loosened?”

  He stood and approached her. It was too soon and he was too calm, but she seized her chance anyway. She was not as deft with her left hand—a fraction of a second slower, a millimeter less precise—but she was quick enough to grab a fistful of his shirt and drag his face down to hers.

  She pressed her lips to his, hard and fast, before he could draw away. The kiss only lasted a moment, but it was explosive. The universe had been born in an instant; a mere moment could change everything.

  He tasted of cardamom, brown bread and bergamot when she pressed her tongue between his lips. His tongue met hers, pushed her back, sliding into her mouth with forceful ease. A tremor of pleasure rocked through her, turning her joints to jelly and making her heart hammer hard against her ribs. She wanted him.

  For that one brief instant, she lost herself to desire. She lost herself to the feel of his lips, the smell of his skin, the hot rush of his exhalations against her cheek. And, in that instant, she lost her chance.

  He wrapped his hand around her wrist and wrenched it away from his collar. The haze of lust between them shattered like warm glass plunged into a tub of ice.

  He stepped to the back of her chair, twisting her arm as he went. It only took him a second to tie her hand to the edge of the chair again. He pulled the ropes tighter this time—her fingers immediately started to tingle with the loss of sensation.

  “That hurts!”

  “It is your own fault. Was the kiss worth it?”

  She leaned her head back to meet his eyes. She lick
ed her lips, slowly, before answering. “I liked it better when you were bleeding.”

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  It’s all about the story…

  Action/Adventure

  Fantasy

  Historical

  Horror

  Mainstream

  Mystery/Suspense

  Non-Fiction

  Paranormal

  Red Hots!

  Romance

  Science Fiction

  Western

  Young Adult

  www.samhainpublishing.com

 

 

 


‹ Prev