Mike just kept moving toward her until she had backed herself into the wall. Lifting his arms, he caged her between the wall and his body, lowering his head to breathe in the rich scent of her skin.
“You’re what’s wrong, Leandra,” he whispered, brushing his lips against the small tattoo by her eye. She hadn’t bothered to have it removed, that sign of what she had once been.
Her hands flew up, pushing him back. Mike only moved back a breath, staring down into her face as he stroked his fingers down her jawline. “You’re what’s wrong,” he repeated. “I think of you. Night and day. All the time. Wondering . . .”
Lowering his mouth, he brushed his lips against hers. She gasped, a soft, startled little sound, and her hands tightened into fists against his chest. Barely a heartbeat passed before she tried to shove him back, harder this time. Mike didn’t budge, but he did lift his head to meet her gaze. “And what do you think about? Ways to get back at me?” she demanded hotly.
Mike smiled. “No. Ways to get to you.” Leaning into her body, he pulled her flush against him. He cuddled the throbbing length of his cock against her abdomen and whispered, “Ways to make you feel what I feel. All I have to do is look at you, and I ache.”
He felt it—a slight tremor in her body just before she started to soften against him. Then her body stiffened and she shook her head. An odd light entered her eyes just before she lowered her lashes, shielding herself from him. “That is something that cannot happen,” she said quietly.
“Why not?” he asked, sliding one hand down her arm and lacing his fingers with hers. Lifting his hand, he looked at their palms pressed together, her smooth skin, dark as chocolate, and soft; his own skin seemed even paler against the warmth of hers. “Because of this?”
A frown darkened her face as she turned her head, staring at their joined hands. Finally, a slight smile appeared on her face, one that looked terribly sad. Gently, she tugged her hand from his and placed it against his left side, on the scar just below his heart. “No, Mike. That has nothing to do with it; this does.”
She’d put that mark on him five years ago as she fired a bullet into his chest just before she kidnapped a child away from him. She’d been blind, fiercely protecting what she thought was right; she’d done everything in her power to keep that child safe. When she’d discovered just how wrong she had been, she’d been willing to die to make things right.
Mike covered her hand with his as he lowered his head, scraping his teeth along the elegant line of her neck. “This,” he whispered roughly, pressing her hand tighter against him, “is nothing. If I had wanted blood from you, I would have taken it. This doesn’t matter to me.”
She laughed harshly, trying to tear herself away from him, but Mike just wrapped his arms around her, keeping her trapped against him. “Doesn’t matter? You’re crazy. I could have killed you. A weaker shape-shifter would have died. By all rights, you should have killed me.”
Mike smiled as he stared down into her eyes. They looked wild, terrified . . . and desperate.
For the first time, he realized she wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her. Oh, kitten, you shouldn’t have let me know that, he thought absently as he lowered his mouth to hers. He bussed her lips gently before moving to whisper against her ear, “I don’t want you dead. I’d kill anybody that harmed you.” Smoothing a hand up her back, over her neck, he cupped the base of her skull and arched her face up to his. “I just want you. And I have for years—ever since Agnes brought you back to us. I wanted you then, and I want you now.”
And there wasn’t a damn thing that would keep him from it, not now. Not now that he knew his need wasn’t one-sided.
“What kind of fool are you?” she whispered weakly, trying to turn her head aside. “I tried to kill you; you nearly died.”
“You didn’t try to kill me. If you had wanted me dead, then I would be dead,” Mike argued easily. Giving in to an urge that had tempted him for years, he fisted his hand in her braids as he murmured, “And it wasn’t until I damn near died that I really started to live.”
Mike stared into her eyes for a long moment before he said, “I didn’t start to live until you came into my life, Leandra. And I’ll take another bullet, this one straight to the heart, before I let you go.”
Slanting his mouth across hers, he kissed her, pushing his tongue demandingly inside her mouth. For a moment, she did nothing, standing there passively under his hands while he prepared himself for her to pull away.
Instead, she moaned, rising up and pressing against him, her arms winding around his neck. Mike crushed her against the wall, rocking his hips against the cradle of hers, shuddering at the softness there.
He skimmed his fingers up her side, brushing the heel of his hand against the outer curve of her breast. She leaned into his touch, and Mike swore, tearing his mouth from hers and pressing his forehead against hers. “I want you naked. I want to strip your clothes away and watch as I push inside you. I want to make you scream.”
Her lids drooped and for a second, Mike thought she was going to try to pull away again. But instead, a slow, feline smile curved her lips, and she whispered, “So what’s stopping you?”
Closing his eyes, he sucked air into his lungs, praying it would clear his head enough to think.
Nope. He still wanted to strip her naked, here and now, and fuck her. Hard.
Closing his hand around hers, he stepped back and led her to the back exit, pulling her out into the alley behind the bar. “My first time with you isn’t going to be with an audience,” he said flatly.
“First time?” she murmured as they moved down the alley.
Mike walked faster and faster, until they were running, the ground beneath them blurring from the speed. “Yes, first time. And make no mistake, Leandra, this is just the first time. There will be others.”
The part of Leandra that always balked when somebody implied they knew something she didn’t wanted to scoff at the certainty in his tone, but she had an odd feeling in her belly that he was completely right. One time, one hundred times, a thousand . . . it would never be enough.
I will take what I can get, Leandra thought with something near to desperation. She hadn’t expected this; she might have yearned for it, but she hadn’t dared to hope for it.
As Mike led her to a car parked in the lot of a brightly lit convenience store, Leandra tried to think past the roaring in her head.
What am I doing?
Her fangs had slid out the moment he had touched her, and they throbbed, aching in their sockets. She could smell him, not just his skin, but him, the very essence of life that flowed in his veins. He opened the door, and she paused a second at that small courtesy as he ushered her inside.
When he climbed in the driver’s side a second later, she stared at him. Part of her wanted to ask where they were going, but she didn’t dare speak. This all felt like a dream, too sweet, too hot to be real, and if it shattered around her, Leandra had a bad feeling she just might start crying and never stop.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the headrest and tried to calm the nervous butterflies that had taken up residence in her belly. When his hand landed on her thigh, way high up on her thigh, she quivered and opened her eyes, turning her head to stare at him.
Mike continued to stare at the road, but she could see the faint glow in his eyes. His control seemed about as shaky as hers. Oddly, that calmed the nerves in her belly just a little. With a wicked smile, she arched against his hand.
From the corner of his eye, she saw him glance at her, and then he stroked his fingers down her crotch before trailing them back up and finding the button of her pants. As he flicked it open, Leandra gasped, slumping just a little in the car seat.
His hand felt hot against her skin as he slid his fingers past the waistband and inside the lace of her panties. “Lace,” he whispered softly, a smile curving his lips. “What color?”
She had to think for a second to even remember how to
speak, much less what the hell she had put on that morning. “Black,” she finally murmured. “I think.”
Mike laughed, the sound low and husky in the silence of the car. As they sped down the highway, he slid his fingers ever lower. “Put the back of the seat down,” he ordered, and she blindly obeyed, using the lever on the side to lower it until she lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. “You think? Don’t remember, huh?”
Remember? What in the hell was to remember? She couldn’t think—not with his hands on her.
A harsh breath hissed past his lips as he touched his fingers to the wet folds between her thighs. Leandra keened weakly, arching into his touch. Through the roaring in her ears, she distantly heard him swear and say, “You’re wet—so wet.”
He started to rotate his thumb around the aching bud of her clit, swearing. “Damned clothes.”
Leandra wasn’t thinking as she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her pants and panties were gone. Mike laughed and pushed her thighs wider. “That may not have been a wise move, kitten,” he whispered. “I’m likely to crash since I can’t seem to keep my eyes on the road.”
The car stayed on the road, but Leandra wasn’t sure she would have noticed, not with the way Mike was using his fingers on her. His thumb flicked her clit, and he fucked two fingers in and out of her pussy, quick, demanding motions that had her breathless and tearing at the seat beneath her, clutching at the molded plastic of the door, anything that might help her stay in one piece.
She exploded against his hand, going limp against the seat. Leandra was still sobbing for breath as his hand left her. Through the fringe of her lashes, she watched him lift his hand and slide his fingers inside his mouth.
His voice was conversational, even casual as he drawled, “You do realize I’m going to eat you up in about three minutes.”
Seconds later, they turned off the road, and Leandra blinked at the sudden gleam of streetlights. She flushed, trying to remember what the hell she’d done with her pants. “Try the backseat,” Mike said mildly.
Arching up, she twisted around and saw them neatly folded on the backseat.
“Have to admire a witch who can still think about being neat when she’s screaming and riding my hand,” he mused, grinning at her.
She scowled at him, starting to pull them on only to realize she was still wearing her boots. “To hell with it.” It took just a small bit of magick to whisk them back on the same way she’d whisked them off, and it was a lot quicker. The seam of the black fatigues pressed against wet, aching flesh, and she shuddered.
Glancing around, she saw a series of small, separated cabins. A larger one in the front of the parking lot had a brightly lit vacancy sign in the window, and she watched as Mike pulled into a parking spot.
“Be right back.”
A motel . . . she pursed her lips, trying to figure out how she felt about that. She recognized the place. Eli’s lands were about twenty miles away, and she certainly didn’t want to wait that long.
Heat flooded her face as she realized something else.
She had screamed. She vaguely remembered hearing it.
If they were at Eli’s . . . no. No, she wasn’t sure she wanted every single creature in that damn enclave to hear her. Because if she’d screamed like that just from a few light touches of the hand, when he . . . Her mouth started to water as her imagination supplied the rest of the image there.
“What in the hell am I doing?” she muttered, drawing her legs up and pressing her face into her knees. The door at her side swung open even as she tried to give sanity a bit of voice, and she lifted her head, staring out at Mike as he crouched by the door.
“The house is too damned far. And not private enough. Nowhere near,” he said, reaching in and pulling her out. Leandra went easily enough, even though she dragged her feet a little as he started to lead her to one of the cabins.
He stopped, staring at her. From the light of the streetlamps, she could see him clearly and knew he could see her every bit as well, if not better, with those damned shape-shifter eyes. His eyes glowed with the power that lurked inside, wakened by the hunger she could scent coming off of him. “You can’t change your mind,” he said gruffly. Then he closed his eyes, slowly releasing her hand. “But if you’re going to do it, do it now. Maybe I’ll die quick instead of slow and painful.”
There was a look on his face, one of stark, naked hunger. It was an echo of what she felt inside, and wonder began to creep through her as she realized something. He really does want me . . . That wasn’t just blind lust, something that any woman could satisfy.
He really wanted her. She didn’t know how long it would last. She didn’t know if it ran any deeper than her want for him.
But it was a hell of a lot more than she’d ever planned on getting.
Instead of reaching for his hand, she stepped up, pressing her body to his. “If I change my mind, I think it will kill me.” Rising on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips lightly to his as she whispered, “So what are ya waiting for?”
Leandra gasped when he swung her up into his arms, crossing the parking lot with long, quick strides. Reaching one of the cabins, he slowly let go of her legs, keeping her locked against him so that her body trailed against his as he lowered her to the ground.
She blinked against the light that splashed in her face as he opened the door and ushered her inside. He flicked one of the light switches off, and she smiled at him in the dimmer light. Licking her lips, she tried to figure out what she should say, what she should do now.
But she didn’t have a chance as he closed his hands around her waist, turning her so that he could press her against the wall. “I’ve wanted you . . . this . . . for a long time,” he whispered, kneeling down in front of her. She stared down at his bent head, watching as he unlaced her boots and slid them off, tossing away one and then the other. They landed with a thud, and he went to work on her pants, unbuttoning them once more and stripping them down her legs.
“I’m not going to make love to you.”
Something inside her went a little cold as he lifted his head and stared at her, his eyes swirling, shifting, alien in his handsome face. Thick locks of golden blond hair tumbled into his face, and he tossed them aside as he let her step out of her pants and panties.
He stood slowly, so slowly she could feel the passage of his breath over her body like a warm caress. “I can’t,” he whispered, sliding his hands under the hem of her shirt and gripping it, slowly peeling it upward. “Not this first time.”
She swallowed. Something in his voice had her shivering. There was something almost terrifying in his voice, in his eyes.
He continued to methodically strip her naked, tossing her shirt aside and then her bra. When she stood naked, he cupped her face in his hands, lowering his lips to kiss her gently. It almost felt like an apology.
Mike lifted his head, and Leandra felt his eyes move over her, leaving trails of heat in their wake. “Not right now,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Right now, I’m going to fuck you, hard and fast. You’re going to scream, kitten. And then I’ll do it again.”
That was all the warning she got before he grabbed her. The cool, smooth feel of naked wood pressed into her back as he took her down to the floor, his head moving low. Mike’s mouth closed over the tip of one breast, hot and silken. His hands tore at his clothes; she heard something rip, and the black cloth of the shirt he had been wearing went flying through the air.
He kept moving downward, his mouth pressing burning, biting kisses against her flesh, hot licks of sensation from her breasts to her sex. His mouth closed over her clit, sucking it into his mouth. As he scraped his teeth lightly over her flesh, she screamed, coming into his mouth in one hard, near-painful climax.
The harsh, gasping scream that fell from her lips was one of the most lovely, erotic sounds Mike had ever heard. Stiffening his tongue, he thrust it in and out of her convulsing sheath, his ha
nds gripping her hips tight as she bucked under him again.
“Damn, you’re sweet,” he rasped, circling his tongue around her clit before plunging back inside her pussy, shuddering at the rich, ripe taste of her. Leandra screamed again, and her hands fisted in his hair as she arched her hips upward.
Mike groaned against her, his fingers biting into her hips. His cock throbbed demandingly. Can’t wait . . . not now . . .
Shoving to his knees, he tore at the buttons of his fly, shoving his jeans and boxer briefs down in one quick motion. Wedging his hips between her thighs, he caught her face in his hands, staring at her as he pressed against her. “Just the first time, kitten,” he whispered and then he pushed inside her, taking her completely with one deep, rough stroke.
She was wet; her pussy closed around him greedily, soft contractions squeezing him as he pulled out and sank back inside her again. Her eyes were wide, staring up at him blindly, the full, ripe curve of her mouth parted and open, revealing the delicate point of fang. Kissing her, he used his tongue to trace gently over her fangs before withdrawing just a little and nipping at her lower lip.
She shuddered under him, the muscles in her sheath flexing and tightening around his cock until he was certain he would come before he had two minutes inside of her.
Tearing his mouth away, Mike buried his face against her neck. He slid one hand down her body, cupping her ass and lifting her. With harsh, quick thrusts, he shafted her, taking his cue from her desperate screams, hearing her broken pleas with a triumphant pleasure. He moved higher on her body, riding against her clit with each stroke, and settled into a quick, demanding rhythm that had her writhing beneath him.
As she started to come, she cried out his name. There was a sharp pain as she dug her nails into his shoulders. Mike gritted his teeth and rode out her climax, determined he’d have more than that. That she would have more.
As she calmed, he was still hard as a damned pike, aching. Levering up on his elbows, he stared down at her. With one hand, he smoothed the sweaty braids back from her face and waited until her lashes lifted.
Heart and Soul Page 3