Pure Desire
Page 2
Refocusing, she realized the fallen angel had started toward her. The idea of a drink suddenly sounded good. She needed something to do with her hands, something other than reach for the most virile man she’d ever encountered. Gabriel had to have known she’d be forced to court temptation. Had he wanted her to fail? If so, why?
Her companion hooked a passing barmaid by the belt loop and placed an order, his casual flirting and easygoing manner worn like a second skin. Understanding happened with a clarity she’d lacked until now. Confidence. That was one of the things she found so wildly attractive about him. And that’s what the silly website had been missing. Men could package their testosterone-filled, cock-wagging, ball-dragging, alpha male profiles a hundred different ways, but what it came down to was the very thing this blond Adonis had in abundance.
He started toward her again, eyes warming as he looked at her.
Rhyan smiled before dipping her head and tucking her hands in her lap. She was well aware she walked the finest of lines between managing her assignment and giving in to her favorite brand of temptation. His.
Dread cartwheeled down her spine without warning, coming to rest at the small of her back. Her scalp prickled. She lifted her eyes and let her gaze roam around the club. Someone was watching her. The more stares she met, the more she realized it would be impossible to tell who had made her uncomfortable. No doubt the Caste had positioned at least one Watcher on her to report her progress. The idea pissed her off. She’d have to do her very best to give them something worthy of reporting. Simple as that.
If it’s so simple, why are you sweating?
Her lips thinned. She rubbed her damp palms against the negligent fabric of her dress. “Shut. Up.”
The blond stopped in front of her, forehead wrinkling. “Everything okay?”
Deep breaths accompanied the hidden, nervous tapping of her fingers against the outside of her thigh and fed the illusion that all was right in her world. Punctuating the facade with a bright smile rounded out the deception.
“Care to dance?”
“Dance?” Cold sweat prickled in her hairline.
One corner of his mouth curled up. “You know. Dance. Get your groove on. Shake your moneymaker. Bump and grind.” He looked at the sound booth and gave a finite nod. “Or, as the case may be, simply define the rhythm between two bodies moving toward a common goal.”
The song that started up was a direct departure from the heavy rock of moments before. A techno beat by Clint Mansell replaced the franticness, slowed the writhing mass of humanity until they moved together in an oddly symbiotic interpretive dance. The problem? Everything they interpreted in front of her was spoken in the language of uninhibited bodies. Consequences were measured, weighed and discarded, hands freed to caress skin, tongues to trace lips, bodies to move with sinuous pleasure. Two bodies moving toward a common goal.
She shot him a wide-eyed stare. Her unfettered breasts heaved beneath the draped halter of her dress. Looking down would have only drawn attention to her peaked nipples. She stood.
He stepped in close. In spite of her heels, he still managed to look down at her. “Name’s Dominic.”
“I... Rhyan.”
“Nice name.”
“Nice ass.”
His lips quirked and revealed twin dimples. “Song’ll be over before we get out there if you don’t light a fire under it, Rhyan.”
“And that would be a bad thing.” The words hung somewhere between a statement and a question.
Dominic moved closer. “I’d hate like hell to miss such an irresistible opportunity.” He held out a hand, inadvertently brushing her bare thigh with his fingers.
“Irresistible?” She slid her hand into his.
His fingers curled around hers, solid, warm and calloused. “Without a doubt.” He backed toward the dance floor without looking behind him, his size a catalyst that encouraged people to move out of the way. The weighted knowledge of his gaze said he knew exactly what he was playing at.
Well, so did she. And the heavens either smiled down or Hell peered up in the way of music. The opening guitar cords for Saving Abel’s “The Sex is Good” began. She blinked slowly, once, twice—her hips began to swivel—three times. Her arms snaked over her head. Turning away from Dominic, she gave herself over to the music, let it weave through the fiber of her being and turn her body into a sinuous column of perpetual motion.
Broad hands settled lightly on her hips at the same time that huge, capable body slid in behind her. He pulled her close. The way his hair fell forward over her bare shoulder and traced the upper swell of her breast encouraged her to reach behind her, grasp his head and pull him closer.
Thoughts ricocheted through her mind with a mental rat-a-tat-tat rhythm. She had a job to do. He smelled crisp and hot and clean. She needed to resist the urge to fall into his arms. He held her in his hands with care. She had to figure out who he’d bargained with to retain his angelic powers. He had no wings. She hungered for his touch. He touched her now, brushing one hand up her bare arm and moving her hair aside to touch his lips to the hollow beneath her ear. She had craved him from the first moment she’d seen him. He wanted her now. She couldn’t go much longer without knowing what he tasted like. His tongue traced a line between neck and shoulder.
The effect was electrifying. Rhyan let him turn her chin toward him.
He didn’t lower his lips to hers, despite her silent plea that he take the choice from her. That he make this about following his lead to get where she needed to go instead of choosing her own path. Instead, he let possibility weave an invisible spell around them. Lust’s gossamer threads pulled taught. Proved unbreakable. Panted breaths collided in that finite space between her lips and his. He smelled of rum, expensive cologne and burgeoning sexual appetite.
Blue eyes blazed, roaming over her in a proprietary way. It was the look a man gave a car he intended to test drive but had no intention of bringing home.
Understanding blazed through her, burning off her desire while the truth lashed her pride. All she’d wanted was to belong somewhere, to someone, and she’d foolishly let herself believe Dominic could be her heart’s moor. In truth, she didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong to this man. She didn’t belong in the Realm. No matter where she went, she ended up a pawn.
The Caste thought to use her to bring Dominic down. Dominic thought to use her for a night of pleasure. The League would pounce on her the moment an opportunity presented itself. Wasn’t it about time she took a little something for herself? The Caste would get their precious information, but she’d glean it her way. And Dominic would have his lusts slaked, because she was going to seduce him. The League could kiss her ass. The players needed to learn she wasn’t disposable. Her lovely dance partner would be her first pupil.
Someone hand me an apple, she thought, because I’m about to take the nephilim to school.
Chapter Three
Dominic knew two things with absolute certainty. First? The woman under his hands moved her body in a way that suggested everything below her nose was double-jointed. His cock kicked at the idea, and he brushed against her ass. She shifted to accommodate the caress. What had been a passing thought quickly became a full-blown erection. And there was that word again. Blown.
He swallowed his groan.
Second? He knew there had been a second half to this thought train, but damn if he could retrieve it. All that mattered at the moment was Rhyan and the way she ground her ass against his groin.
His hands at her waist helped Dom lead her. Or be led. The longer they were out there, the less sure he was about whom directed whom. For the first time in his life, he was happy to have someone lead him by the proverbial nose. His cock pulsed.
He couldn’t stop the growl that rumbled through his chest.
Rhyan stretched and writhed against him, settling her lush curves to his hard contours.
His thumbs traced the bottom of her rib cage as he slid his hands around her until his
forearms crossed. He pulled her closer, eliminating the remaining airspace between them. The planes of her abdomen were supple yet hard, soft yet firm. She was all woman and owned every ounce of her femininity, totally unapologetic for it.
Curling over her, he closed his eyes and ran his cheek over her hair, lost in the scent of rain on a dry desert night. She turned her chin enough to give him better access to her neck and grasped his head, holding it close. Music shifted to something slow with a steady, deep beat. He needed to tip the DJ tonight, because the guy was spinning tunes right off the soundtrack to seduction.
Dominic traced two fingers up her jawline and tucked her hair aside. A small shudder raced through her. Arousal. Eyes still closed, he gave himself over to his senses—the way the silk of her dress caught on the minor calluses on his hands, the ebb and flow of the crowd’s movement around them, the tickle of her perfume in his nose.
The need to taste her skin again curled through his pelvis. He settled his parted lips below her ear, the tip of his tongue caressing her carotid artery. She jerked once before her pulse took up a harder beat. Salt from her skin made his mouth water. Settling his teeth over her pulse point, he gently bit down.
Her fingers flexed against his skull and she gasped.
That sound, so uncontrolled and uninhibited, fueled lust’s flame and incinerated the fabrics of reason and logic. A soft touch of his tongue to the area he’d nipped gave him time to refocus. He huffed a breath against her skin, smiling when she shivered. Who did he think he was kidding? All the “focus” in the world wasn’t going to bring him down. Only a full release would get his head sorted out, allow him to think.
He rested his lips against her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
She stiffened. The way her chest heaved had been so damn sexy. When she stopped breathing at his suggestion? Not so much.
“Problem?”
“Yes.”
Dom stilled, relaxing his hold on her. “Want me to call you a cab?” When she didn’t respond, he let his arms fall to his sides and took a short step back. He wanted her, craved her with a bone-deep hunger he’d never experienced. Tension shortened every muscle in his body until he swore his bones fractured under the strain of her rejection. Fuck this. No one-night stand was worth this. He was out. Turning to leave, he saw her chin fall. He didn’t stop. She had every right to pass on the night just like he had every right to keep freaking moving without apology.
Her nails dug into his arm.
He glanced back, a terse dismissal forming on his tongue. The words never made it out.
Rhyan closed the distance between them. Winding her lithe body around him, she became his true north, pulling him around to align with her. Long fingers shoved through his hair. A hard yank pulled his head down to meet her seeking mouth.
Her lips were soft and full, her mouth hot and demanding. She slid that mouth over his and sank her teeth into his lower lip hard enough to tread the fine line between pleasure and pain. He was so onboard with that.
* * *
She pulled herself against him, one foot tracing his ankle, her back arched to press her breasts against his chest. The kiss evolved into a full-body event. Pulling one hand free of his hair, she reached between them, untucked his shirt and raked her nails down his abs. Those deft fingers curled around his waistband and tugged.
His hips pumped forward, the movement small but undeniable.
Hard breaths collided as she broke the kiss. Her eyes fluttered open. “Yes.”
No one word had ever been sweeter or more potentially ambiguous. He splayed one hand over her lower back and ran the other under her hair and around the back of her neck. “Be more specific. Two minutes ago I was getting ready to call you a cab.”
She closed her eyes. “I’m ready to go.”
“Where?”
“With you.” The pink tip of her tongue darted out to touch kiss-swollen lips. Thick lashes rose, revealing a clear green gaze.
He tightened his hold on her neck. “We’ll give each other tonight. No strings attached. I need to know that’s not going to pose a problem tomorrow.”
One corner of her mouth fluttered up in a sad approximation of a smile. “I’m leaving town at dawn.”
He considered her for a moment before leaning in and resting his cheek against hers. “Then we should make the most of the time we have between now and then.”
“Yes.”
Dominic didn’t hesitate this time. Instead, he gently turned her toward the parking garage elevators. He’d taken the long way around at the beginning of the night. Now? Time was at a premium.
Like he’d said, he intended to make the most of it.
* * *
Rhyan’s decision had, like so many things in her existence, been impulsive. No doubt it would cost her. The price? She didn’t want to think about it. If she couldn’t gather the information the Caste demanded, if she fell victim to the guilt constricting her throat, if she failed to hold true to her intent to seduce Dominic and flee... So much hinged on that tiny, two-letter word—if. The Caste would punish her if her gamble didn’t provide them with a payout come morning. There was no undoing it. Not without admitting to Dominic who she was and what she’d done, and she simply wasn’t willing to go that route. Instead, she’d do her best to be the seducer instead of the seduced. Dawn would be here soon enough, bringing with it the consequences of choices made and the events that had yet to present her with options.
They stood side by side at the elevators and silently waited for the car. Doors opened with a soft chime. He increased the pressure on the small of her back, directing her forward. A couple of guys raced to catch a ride down.
Dom pulled a pen and held out a hand to stop the pair entering. “Let me have your parking ticket.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to validate it for the inconvenience.” He wiggled his fingers. “Hand it over.”
The taller of the two pulled out his wallet and retrieved the stub. “What inconvenience?”
“You’re going to have to wait for the next car.”
Confused, the guy peered around Dom. “What? Why? There’s room—”
His buddy elbowed him and jerked his chin toward Rhyan.
She licked her lip and, dragging her gaze from them to Dom and back, arched a brow.
“Don’t suppose you have a sister?” the guy called as he accepted the validated ticket from Dominic.
An unexpected laugh erupted from her.
Dom leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and crossed one foot over the other. His lips twitched. “You’re a public menace.”
“Me? You were the one who was outside working the women in line.”
He grinned. “Maybe.” He slowly rose to his full height and crowded her against the back wall, caging her in with his arms. A deft move positioned his thigh between hers. He pressed up just enough to make her shift her weigh onto him in order to maintain her balance. “But that poor guy? He’s going to go home with nothing more than a glimpse of you. Bet he’s up there now wondering what we’re doing. He’ll jack off to the memory of you and the idea of us for years.”
Her lips parted. The shaky inhale that followed was abnormally loud.
Unmistakable intent peered out through eyes gone dark. He slid his thigh against her core, up and down, up and down. “The idea flips your switch, doesn’t it?”
“Bit of an exhibitionist, Dominic?”
“Sweetheart, I’m into all of it. You name it, I’ve tried it. And chances are very good I liked it.” He slowly lowered his lips, stopping close enough that they brushed hers when he whispered, “A lot.”
Her sex flooded at the images that raced through her mind. “Have you ever—”
He moved a fraction closer. “Without a doubt.”
The car stopped, rocking her against him. She braced herself by slipping a hand under the edge of his shirt and settling it against his waist. Heat arced between them.
He shifted and pressed in
to her palm.
“Good to know.” She couldn’t gain her footing, wasn’t able to think beyond the moment, struggled to breathe. Well, if she was confined to thinking in the moment, that’s when she’d act.
She licked the corner of her mouth. Proximity meant her tongue touched his lips.
Elevator doors slid open behind him.
They stared at each other without moving. Her nipples brushed across his chest with every breath. His fingers twitched at her waist seconds before, eyes wide, he closed the distance between them. Their lips brushed, whisper soft.
Someone coughed.
“How many parking tickets can you validate?” she breathed.
He grinned. “I can shut the elevators down if that’s what floats your boat.”
“Smart-ass.” She squeezed his hip before dragging her hand around to the front of his jeans and down his hard length. “If that’s all you, I’m going to have to call you ‘Slugger.’”
Waggling his eyebrows, he said, “I happen to love baseball. I’ll show you my bat if you’ll let me play in your dugout.”
Rhyan laughed again, parking a hand between the valley of his pecs and gently pushing.
He pulled her under his arm and steered her out the door.
“Get a room,” the owner of the cough muttered as they passed.
Dominic’s arm tensed as he sucked in a breath to say who knew what to the guy.
She snaked her arm around his waist and bumped him with her hip, shaking her head at him when he glanced down.