Touch If You Dare

by Stephanie Rowe

  The Godfather swore. “You don’t understand what I’m like—”

  “And you don’t understand what I’m like.” She grabbed the front of his tuxedo and tugged him close. He melted toward her like a man in a trance. “I can handle you.” She knew she could. She was the wind. She was the mountain. She was the mother earth. “Do you really want to learn to hold back, or do you want a woman who can handle all you have to give?”

  Longing flashed in his face, and she knew she’d struck his truth. He didn’t want to fake who he was. “Oh, baby, you have no idea what I have to give.”

  “Try me. You can’t hurt me.”

  His hands tightened on her hips, and he pulled her so close she could feel his erection pressing against the front of her jeans. Heat convulsed through her, and a sudden orgasm shook her to her core. He didn’t take his gaze off her, didn’t release her as the tremor wracked her body.

  He just waited.

  It subsided, and she took a breath. Her heart was racing, her blood thudding through her veins, but she felt strong. Stronger than she ever had. Nothing could stop her. Nothing at all.

  One dark eyebrow went up. “You’re okay.”

  “Of course I am.”

  Anticipation suddenly gleamed in his eyes, and he fisted her hair. “Be careful what you offer, my love, because I’m unlike any other man you’ve ever encountered.” And then he kissed her, and she knew he was telling the truth.

  Her entire body was on fire, and tremors were racing through her. His mouth was magic, a seduction of fairy tale lore. His hands on her back, the heat of his body melting the T-shirt from her body. She gripped his upper arms, felt the hard core of his muscles flexing beneath her hands, and her body lurched with excitement.

  He cupped her breast and bit the side of her neck. Another orgasm was coming. Like a tsunami building within her. Dear Lord, what would it be like to make love with him? How many times could he make her cross that threshold?

  “Excuse me, sir.” A cultured voice was suddenly right next to her. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to relocate this activity.”

  The Godfather swore and pulled back, and the wave halted, poised at the crest, ready to tumble. She pressed her face to his chest, fighting the intense pressure rushing through her, desperate for release.

  “My apologies.” The Godfather hooked his arm around her waist. “We’ll be on our way.” His touch sent her over the edge, and the orgasm rushed through her like an electric shock.

  “Dear God.” Her legs gave out and she started to go down.

  The Godfather caught her and guided her to the floor as the tremors hit her.

  “Is she okay? Shall I call an ambulance?” The young man who spoke was wearing a black suit and a white tie. He had an aura of authority about him. He was attractive, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw.

  But his eyes were cold. Calculating. A man’s face that belied the youthful appearance. Raw fear rippled through her, and she felt her neck throbbing where she’d been lethally bitten so many years ago. “It was you,” she whispered. “You’re the one.” The deedub had come back to enjoy her death. “Bastard!”

  He grinned and saluted her as he stepped back. The Godfather caught her chin and forced her to look at him. He searched her face. “You okay?”

  “Let me go! We have to stop him!”

  “Stop who?”

  “Him!” But when she sat up, the man was gone. Just a few patrons sipping wine by the draperies. “But—”

  The Godfather grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “I need to know if you’re okay!”

  “Of course I am! Don’t I look okay?” Shit! What was she doing? She was walking willingly to her death? She leapt to her feet and started to run for the front door.

  “No!” The Godfather slammed her against the wall. He was radiating excitement. “You’re the woman I’ve been searching for my whole life. You’re coming home with me. Now.”

  Raw terror rippled through her. He was no longer resisting her. He was going to take her, and he was going to kill her. “No, no—”

  His mouth crushed down over hers. She fought him off, trying to picture Nigel in her head. A man who didn’t want to kill her. A perceptive artist who would see past this crazy persona and feel her truth—

  And then Nigel was gone from her mind. All that was left was a screaming need for completion. For pushing the boundaries. For becoming the powerful woman she’d never been before. Her hands softened on the Godfather’s shoulders, no longer fighting. Inviting.

  “This is so exciting.” The Godfather was grinning like a kid who’d just gotten a new puppy. “I can’t believe I’ve found you! They say there’s a partner for everyone, but I’d given up.” He grabbed her hand and led her out the front doors.

  Oh, yes, this was what she wanted. This was right.

  “I’ve tried immortal women, vampires, incubi, succubi, fairies, angels, you name it. No one could handle me. And look at you! Two orgasms in less than a minute, and you didn’t even pass out.” He yanked open his limo door and tossed her on the seat. He was on top of her instantly. “I cannot wait to ravage you.”

  She touched his face, her heart swelling with appreciation. “No one has ever treated me like I’m tough. Thank you.” After a lifetime of being afraid to walk to the mailbox, she felt as if she could fly. He was looking at her as if she could withstand a hurricane, and it made her feel like she actually could.

  “And never in my life have I met a woman who enabled me to be who I really am.” He kissed the flat of her palm. “Thank you, my dear Natalie, for embracing who I am. There’s no fear in your eyes when you look at me.”

  She smiled. “And there’s no worry in your eyes when you look at me.” It felt so right to have him seeing her as strong and powerful. The Godfather saw her the way she had always wanted to be, and it made her almost believe it was true.

  “Just raw, unadulterated appreciation and desire.” The Godfather locked her hands over her head. “And now, it is just about us.” His mouth descended on hers—

  He flew out of the car and landed on his ass on the sidewalk.

  Natalie jerked upright. “Did I do that?” Dammit! She’d thought he was man enough to handle her—

  “Nope.” An ostrich cowboy boot slammed down in the doorway, and a wide leather belt with a spur for a belt buckle came into sight. “I did.” The intruder grabbed her ankle and hauled her out of the car. She hit the pavement and skidded across it, landing next to the Godfather, who was coughing and trying to pry a pink star out of his throat.

  A pink star? She whirled around as a hunched man in tails and a sleek, black fedora slammed the car door shut and turned to face her.

  He might be clean.

  He might smell of Polo instead of rotten bananas.

  And he might be wearing an Armani tuxedo instead of crusty jeans.

  But those merciless black eyes were the same, and the way they cut into her drove chills through her spine. “Well, if it isn’t my idol, Natalie Fleming, the gal with the best attitude on the planet.” Augustus bowed deeply. “Welcome to my game, princess. You’ve just become a player.”

  Chapter 14

  Reina’s awe over her first sighting of red carpet was slightly tempered by the fact that Augustus was dragging her sister over it, toward a carriage drawn by six white, winged horses.

  Natalie was fighting hard but Augustus’s progress didn’t appear to be at all impaired by the fact he’d chosen to abduct the Incredible Hulk with breasts. Nearby, Trinity was facedown on the asphalt, not moving.

  Jarvis whipped the steering wheel to the right and Reina’s sweet little Prius ducked between two limos and careened up onto the sidewalk, sending red velvet rope and brass posts flying.

  “Hey!” Police officers came running as Jarvis threw open the door. Lights flashed as photographers whirled toward them, snapping pictures.

  “I’ll get Augustus,” Jarvis commanded. “You take care of Trinity.”

  “Tri
n!”

  She gave a weak wave. “Go get her,” she mumbled. “I’ll be fine in a second. Didn’t quite manage to stop him.”

  “I need to get Natalie.” Reina dove out of the car and raced across the cement toward her sister, but they were moving too fast. She’d never catch up before they reached the carriage. “Nat!”

  Her voice was drowned out by the click of cameras and the shouts of the policemen closing in on Jarvis. Hello? There was an abduction going on and they were worried about a little reckless driving? Okay, yeah, Augustus was flashing some badge with a star on it, but come on. Anyone could see that her sister was not some deviant that warranted a bounty hunter after her.

  Her sister fought harder, and Augustus jerked her head, eliciting a howl of agony from Natalie.

  Bastard. You don’t get to hurt the people I care about. Reina’s fingers began to tingle, and black dust began to spew from her fingertips. Hot damn! Nothing like seeing the jerk hurt her sister to provide the right motivation.

  “She’s mine!” A Tarzan yell echoed across the night, and the Godfather sped past Reina, wielding a stolen camera tripod over his head. “You do not take her from me!”

  Okay, the Tsar of the Next Coming might be her sister’s death wish, but he got big time points for trying to save her from big, bad Augustus. He swung the tripod at Augustus’s head, but the assassin ducked, grabbed the tripod, and then slammed it over the big G’s head.

  The Orgasm King slumped to the pavement like a textbook patient in need of Viagra. Dammit! What good was he if his only skill was turning her sister on in a lethal fashion?

  Natalie screamed for her fallen boy toy and ripped herself out of Augustus’s grip in a sudden surge of “female must protect her lover” strength.

  “Keep running, Nat!” Reina yelled.

  But her sister fell to her knees beside the tongue tango expert. “I’m here, baby, I’m here.”

  Well, damn. Stopping to moon over a new flame wasn’t going to be one of the building blocks of a successful escape, now was it?

  Augustus grabbed Natalie by the ear and hauled her back.

  “You’re close enough, Reina,” Jarvis shouted. “For God’s sake, dust him now!”

  Just do it. Yeah, baby, she was feeling the fire right now. She could take him down from a football field away. Easy. She wiggled her fingers to unleash the powder at Augustus and his head jerked up. His eyes widened, and she realized he hadn’t noticed her until that moment. “Too late!” She unleashed the dust and it hit him square in the face.

  He grabbed for his star and reared back to throw it, and then he got the biggest look of surprise on his face, tipped over, and went to sleep.

  Right there.

  On the street.

  Sound asleep.

  “Holy crap.” Trinity stumbled up beside her. “You did it.”

  Reina was too shocked to do anything but stare at the snoozing bad guy. “I can’t believe it.” Yeah, Natalie was passed out beside him, due to Reina’s apparent inability to target precisely, but she was okay with that kind of spillage. If she could keep Natalie knocked out for the next week, maybe they could keep Hormone Girl alive long enough to really keep her alive.

  “Finish it,” Jarvis ordered her. “Right now!” He had seven policemen at sword point up against her car.

  “Wow. That’s really sweet.” Trinity nodded toward Jarvis. “Not many men would risk a lifetime in prison just so a girl can murder someone.”

  “He is pretty sweet,” Reina admitted. Then she noticed that his sword was deep purple, like an angry sky before a deadly tornado unleashed its rage upon an unsuspecting town. That couldn’t be a good sign. “Sweet and deadly.”

  “Ohh…” Trinity put her hand over her heart. “Just like Blaine. That’s such an appealing combination in a man.”

  “Reina,” Jarvis warned. “Harvest him already. It’s not that easy to keep all these cops at bay without causing them permanent damage.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’m on it.” Reina slipped the scythe out of her back pocket and unfolded it.

  “Stop!” A cop raced toward her, his gun right at Reina’s heart. “Down with the weapon or I’ll shoot.”

  Three more uniforms raced over to line up beside the first one. Feet spread, guns up, faces all too serious. Oh, come on. People never noticed when she was there to redirect a soul, but apparently wielding an ancient farm implement in an offensive manner was worth noting. Maybe it was time for a little chat with Death about giving his Guides invisibility skills before they actually became Reapers.

  “Drop the blade,” the officer shouted again.

  “I can’t do that.” A milky white film was drifting up from Augustus’s inert form. His soul was the lily white of purity? It should be black. How could he have an innocent soul? Oh, damn it, all! Like this wasn’t difficult enough for her already!

  Trinity eased up beside her, hands up in an “I don’t have a weapon” stance. “You don’t have time to get arrested, sweetie. Ditch the blade, talk your way out of it, and let’s get out of here. We’ll find Augustus later.”

  “Take him now,” Jarvis shouted. “You won’t get a better time. I’ll take care of the cops.”

  Natalie groaned, and Trinity knelt beside her. “She’s coming out of it,” Trinity said. “And she’s muttering something about how she’s never going to be able to use her Pocket Rocket again after meeting the Big G.”

  “Oh, crap.” Reina was out of time. The moment Natalie awoke, she’d be sucking face with the Sultan of Climax, and the pinnacle of all deaths would be shooting right toward them. She reared back to throw the scythe, and there was a loud crack and pain thudded into her shoulder.

  She stumbled, and the scythe flew out of her suddenly numb hand. “Holy crap.” Agony, anyone? Blood oozed from her shoulder and down her arm.

  “I hit her,” a police officer yelled.

  She’d been shot? Seriously? Had they not heard about the immortal thing? Or the complete liberty of Death and his peeps to reap souls? Without her, souls would be causing traffic jams, stealing from dumpsters, sleeping in alleys, and doing all the other things that those poor homeless unfortunates were stuck doing.

  “Reina!” Jarvis’s frantic shout echoed over the din.

  The concern in his voice was so sweet and endearing. “I’m okay. Just a flesh wound.” But one that hurt like a mother! “I’m immortal, remember?” Or close enough.

  “Immortals feel pain.” Jarvis slammed the flat of his blade into a cop’s head. One down. Six to go. “Hang on. Let me just clean these guys out of my way—” Another shot and then Jarvis was bleeding from his shoulder as well.

  “Jarvis!”

  “No problem, sweetheart, but I appreciate the concern.” The bullet popped out of his shoulder and clanked on the ground. Well, that was handy. She should really develop that skill.

  “Drop the sickle so they stop shooting,” Jarvis commanded as he thwacked another cop and then whipped his sword around to block two more bullets. Then he was hit three more times, and blood was streaming from his chest. “I’ll take care of Augustus for you.”

  Oh, how sweet was that? Not many men would be willing to murder for a girl. “Thanks, but it has to be me.” She focused on Augustus’s milky white soul.

  “The Godfather’s up!” someone shouted.

  The Man of Endless O’s was crawling relentlessly toward Natalie.

  “Oh, no, no!” Trinity grabbed Natalie and dragged her toward a potted geranium on the other side of the sidewalk. Trinity’s mom had the ability to transport anyone through vegetation, and if Trinity could get them over there, her mom would be able to suck them out. But the Godfather was moving too fast. “Stay away!” Trinity yelled. “This is one girl you’re not going to get your woody into.”

  Reina whirled back toward Augustus, raised the sickle, and another bullet sent agony cascading through her left leg. She yelped with pain as her leg gave out and she crashed to the ground. The sickle spun out of re
ach on the sidewalk. “Oh, crap.” They weren’t going to let her get to Augustus, were they?

  Suddenly there was a ferocious war cry and Nigel came leaping over the heads of the press. “I’m here, babes!” His palms were smoking and he unleashed dozens of tiny blades that hit guns and cameras with unerring precision. He paused when he saw Trinity dragging Natalie across the pavement. “Is Natalie okay? I can heal her.”

  “She’s fine.” Reina tried to stand up, but her legs gave out again. “I just knocked her out.”

  Nigel started toward Natalie, then spun around when the cops started shooting at him. Blades flew from his fingers, intercepting every bullet before it hit him.

  “About time you bastards got here,” Jarvis said. “Too busy getting your nails done?”

  “Too busy trying to find Christian. Lover Boy appears to have taken off.” Blaine leapt on top of the Godfather’s limo, lifted his arms to the sky, and a wall of fire burst from his shoulders. “We need to find him after we finish here. Something’s not right with him.”

  Blaine unleashed fiery lasers at the cops, their guns glowed red hot, and then all the officers were all screaming with pain and throwing their sizzling weapons down onto the pavement, including the ones who’d been using Reina for target practice.

  Taking advantage of the involuntary disarmament, Reina began to drag herself toward her sickle, trying really hard not to think about all the bullets in her body. Yes, they wouldn’t kill her, but they really did hurt. But she still had time for a happy ending. Augustus’s soul was still outside his body. It wasn’t too late. If she could just get there—

  “Thanks, man.” Jarvis leapt over the heads of the thronging media trying to pick the metal blades out of their microphones. He reached Reina’s side as flames exploded from the pavement and shot fifty feet into the air, isolating their small group inside a twenty-foot circle, courtesy of Blaine. The scream of reporters, the click of cameras, the shouts of the cops, all went silent. No sound except the roar of flames, the crackle of blue fire, the smell of asphalt burning. She knew Blaine and Nigel were outside the circle, dealing with the cops, but inside, it was a separate world. The flames had created a boundary of protection, so they had to deal only with Augustus and not the interference of humans.