Hotter Than Hell

by Kim Harrison

  Thankfully, I’d been spared the grittier details of their activities the following morning. I had imagination enough when it came to Ethan.

  Which wasn’t to say I’d never been tempted to do more than imagine, but I often worked with the man on missing persons investigations. Unless you were very lucky, mixing business and pleasure always got messy.

  Not that I’d actually mind a little of Ethan’s mess every now and again.

  I blew out a breath and punched the elevator button. Control. I needed control. Ethan would smell the merest hint of arousal, and that would only stir his interest more. And I needed that like I needed a hole in the head. Especially when it had been so damn long since I’d had anything decent in the way of sex.

  Weres of any breed might be free and easy when it came to sex, but I was a wolf shifter, and my parents were depressingly old-fashioned when it came to the whole mating act. Though I was pretty sure I could shake their overly strict sensibilities if the right man and moment came along. Ethan certainly wasn’t that man, hence the cobwebs and me feeling hornier than a bitch in heat whenever he got within hormonal radar distance.

  I punched the button again. As usual, the damn elevator was taking its freaking time getting here.

  “Or is it just me that brings out the worst in you?” he continued, from right behind me.

  I took a breath that was filled with the warm, spicy scent of him, then slowly turned to meet the vivid blue of his gaze. A gaze that was too bright, and saw too much. A gaze that never gave much away, no matter what the situation.

  But Ethan Garrison wasn’t just sex on a stick, he was ex-military, and a dangerous man despite his to-die-for smile. He was dressed in black this morning, his roughly rolled up shirtsleeves emphasizing the strength of his shoulders and upper arms, while his close-fitting jeans paid homage to the long, lean length of his legs. Even his boots and baseball cap were black. With his golden hair and skin, it was a potent combination.

  “Going for the bad boy look today, are we?” I said, more to break the tension that always seemed to build between us than from any real need to talk to the man.

  “Heard you liked a bit of bad. Thought it worth a shot.” His grin was pure cheek, and crinkles of amusement touched the corners of his bright, watchful eyes.

  A combination that had my hormones doing happy little cartwheels.

  “The bad boy is getting no closer to me than the other incarnations you’ve dreamt up,” I said, and wished my words would come out less breathy. “You and I work together. That’s enough.”

  One dark eyebrow rose as he stepped a little closer. “Care to take a bet on that, Ravioli?”

  The sheer heat of him slid across my senses like a caress. A caress I so wanted. My heart was doing a triple-time dance and desire not only swirled through me, but around me. His nose flared and a lusty spark ignited deep in his eyes. Damn, I was in trouble now.

  Still, I raised my chin. Defiant to the end, that was me. “I don’t bet.” Especially when I was likely to lose.

  “Shame that. I enjoy a challenge.”

  “Then I challenge you to take a flying leap out of a twentieth-floor window and make like a bird.”

  He smiled, and my breath caught somewhere in my throat and refused to budge. Smiles like that should be declared lethal weapons.

  “You’d miss me if I did.”

  “Yeah,” I said, forcing a note of dryness into my voice. “Like I’d miss a proverbial pain in the butt.”

  His gaze slid downwards. “And a very nice butt it is, too.”

  The chime of the elevator arriving saved me from answering. I gave a silent sigh of relief—then wondered why as the doors opened, revealing the empty interior. Confined elevator spaces and Ethan were not a wise combination right now.

  “Are you going to stand there gawking all day?” he asked, voice dry and a knowing smile touching his lips.

  It was a thought. Not a practical one but a thought all the same.

  I stepped inside and punched the tenth-floor button. “What floor you going to?”

  “Tenth, same as you.”

  He stopped beside me, so close he made me burn.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  I stepped back, trying to get some space between us, trying to cool my overheated body. “So Frank has called you in?”

  “Yes. Something urgent has come up.”

  Oh, I had no doubt about that, I thought, my gaze detouring briefly down his long, lean length. Man, what I wouldn’t give to be able…I wrenched my mind away from that particular direction and tried to think of boring things in an effort to calm my pulse.

  Only nothing boring would come to mind.

  The doors slid closed and the elevator began to rise at what seemed like a snail’s pace. Ethan took a step towards me. I couldn’t help taking another one back—though there weren’t many places I could go in such a confined space. I pressed my back against the cool steel wall and watched him almost breathlessly. Anticipating his touch, even though common sense suggested he was only teasing. After all, there wasn’t much he could do in an elevator in the space of ten floors.

  Was there?

  He moved closer. My breath stuttered to a brief stop. Like a rabbit caught in a spotlight, I watched as he bracketed his hands on either side of my head. Then he leaned forward, sending my senses into a spiral of delight. My nipples hardened, as if reaching out to brush his body. Which they couldn’t, because he wasn’t that close.

  Part of me wished he was. Wished I could just melt against all that warm, hard flesh and allow my fingers the freedom to roam. But that would only be asking for more than I could probably handle.

  So I raised a hand and simply pressed it against his chest, stopping him from coming closer. Even through the soft silk of his shirt, his muscles felt like iron under my fingertips, and my skin itched with the need to feel, to caress.

  “Don’t,” I said. Unfortunately, my voice came out husky and that only ignited the spark in his eyes all the more.

  “Don’t what?” he said, his breath a whisper across my cheeks. “Do this?”

  His weight pressed against my hand, a gentle force I suddenly couldn’t stop and couldn’t resist. My aching nipples finally came in contact with the softness of his shirt, and something akin to electricity shot through my body. Lord, it felt good. And he was so close, so tempting, and his lips there, right there, right within tasting distance.

  Oh, how I wanted to taste them.

  And he knew it, damn him.

  “Or this?” he added, then brushed his mouth across mine.

  It felt like the touch of fire. Or maybe it was only me who burned, not him. Not his delicious lips.

  “You want me, Ravioli,” he murmured. His lips moved from my mouth to my chin then my neck, tasting, teasing, arousing. I closed my eyes, savoring the heat zinging across every fiber of my being.

  “Go on, admit it.”

  I didn’t have to admit anything, especially when the scent of my arousal was so damn obvious.

  “How can I want a man who can’t even remember my name?” I somehow managed to say.

  His lips brushed the pulse point at the base of my neck, sending a tremor through my limbs, then continued down, following the V of my shirt. I closed my eyes, torn between the sweet desire of his kisses, and the knowledge that I needed to push him away before this got out of hand.

  And it would get out of hand. He was a werewolf and an alpha, and the wolf within me just couldn’t help reacting to the power and masculinity of his presence. Not to mention his sheer, must-have-you-now sexiness.

  “Ravioli suits you,” he murmured. His teeth grazed a nipple. I shuddered, and barely resisted the urge to arch into him. To offer myself to that tantalizing, tempting touch.

  “So does my name.” My voice sounded as liquid as I felt. “Which is Grace Rioli, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I haven’t.” His lips trailed fire back up my neck. When his tongue flirted with my ear, my knee
s threatened to buckle. “But ravioli is my favorite food, and this particular dish is one I’ve longed to taste more fully.”

  If he kept this up, he’d be able to drink me, because I’d be little more than a puddle at his feet.

  “So basically, you’re saying I remind you of a small square pasta?”

  His chuckle vibrated against my neck, and my toes curled in delight.

  “You may be small in height and waist, Grace, but you’re sure not small in other departments.”

  His tongue alternated with his teeth against my ear, teasing the exact right spot, and my body vibrated with the force of pleasure shooting through me. God, why was the elevator taking so damn long to climb ten floors?

  This had to stop. Not the elevator—him. Or I wouldn’t want to. I squeezed my other hand between us, and pushed with both. Not too much, just enough to remove the heat of his lips from my neck. “So now you’re saying I’ve got a fat ass? Charming.”

  His gaze scorched mine, blue eyes rich with amusement and lust. It was the same sort of lust that pounded through me—the hot, let’s get down and dirty, right here, right now, type of lust.

  Damn it, why couldn’t I find that sort of intensity with someone I didn’t work with?

  “You’re determined to twist everything I say, aren’t you?” he said, deep voice edged with amusement.

  “Yes.” Because sarcasm was my only line of safety. I was far too susceptible to this man’s charms otherwise.

  I ducked under his arms as the elevator finally halted and the doors opened. The simple act of walking was an effort, because my heart still raced a million miles an hour and my legs were all fluid and wobbly. It was just as well Frank’s office was down the far end of the hall—at least it gave me time to gather some sort of composure.

  Ethan reappeared by my side, his long strides curtailed to match my shorter ones.

  “Why?” he said. I was still so attuned to him his voice seemed to flow over my skin as sensually as a warm summer breeze. “The attraction between us is getting stronger, and you can’t keep denying it exists.”

  I could, and I would. For as long as we had to work together, and maybe even after that. “There has to be hundreds of women working in this building. Why don’t you go try your luck with the half you haven’t sampled?”

  Something flashed in his eyes. Something that looked an awful lot like annoyance. “Because I’m attracted to you, not them.”

  Attracted to the challenge more than the person, I suspected. “Yeah, well, I have no intention of becoming another notch on your bedpost.” As much as my hormones danced excitedly at the very idea.

  “What if I promise to make that notch worthwhile?”

  His grin was pure cheek, and I couldn’t help responding in kind. The man might be a dangerous rogue, but he was undoubtedly a sexy one. “Not even then.”

  He stopped to open Frank’s door then ushered me through, his fingers searing my spine though his touch was feather light.

  “The more you challenge me, the more determined I get,” he murmured.

  His words sent another tremor racing across my skin. Lord, if what he was doing now wasn’t determination, what was? And how was I going to survive it?

  Janet, Frank’s secretary, glanced up as we both walked in. “Go straight through,” she said, her gaze lingering appreciably on Ethan.

  “Thanks, Janet,” he said, voice so intimate the older woman blushed.

  I shook my head, and continued on through the second door. Like most werewolves, the man just couldn’t help flirting—and that was part of the problem. If I’d had any reason to believe he was after anything more serious than a quick roll in the sack, then maybe I’d reconsider—

  I scratched the rest of that thought from my mind as Frank, our semi-bald boss, glanced up.

  “Sit down,” he said.

  “What’s the problem?” I crossed my legs so that my feet pointed away from Ethan. Even an accidental touch could be deadly given the aroused state he’d so easily worked me into.

  “We’ve got a couple of missing kids I want you to look for.”

  “When and where?” Ethan asked, voice becoming cool and businesslike.

  Something inside me relaxed. This Ethan I could handle. It was the flirty, oh-so-sexy version of his personality that got me all flustered and out-of-sorts.

  “The first was three nights ago.” Frank shoved several files across the desk. Ethan leaned forward and picked one up, quickly scanning it before handing it across to me.

  I was careful not to touch his fingers and amusement flared briefly across his lush lips. The basic details were all there—name, location, and the particulars of where and how he’d gone missing.

  I looked up. “Were there any threats? Ransom demands? Anything to suggest this was a standard crime?”

  Frank shook his head. “The kid disappeared from his bedroom in the middle of the night. No evidence of a break-in, and all the doors and windows were still locked in the morning.”

  “From the inside?”

  He flicked a glance my way. “Yeah.”

  Meaning someone had a key. Ghosts might be able to get past locked doors and windows, but humans—large or small—couldn’t.

  “Why were we called in?” Ethan asked. “The official investigation would still be underway. We usually don’t get pulled in until after the dust has settled.”

  “A second teenager went missing last night under the same circumstances.” Frank pushed the other file closer. “That teenager is my nephew.”

  “Ah.” Ethan’s voice was neutral, and yet as attuned as I currently was to the man, I sensed his distaste. He hated jobs that involved personal connections—though he’d never actually said why.

  “I want answers,” Frank said, “and I want them fast.”

  And that was probably why Ethan hated personal connections. Hard to do your job properly when someone closely connected rode your back.

  I glanced at the file in my hand. The teenagers had gone missing from Wild Dog Creek, a small beachside town about ten minutes beyond the popular Apollo Bay. “Getting accommodations at the height of summer holidays is going to be a problem.”

  “My sister-in-law has a guest house. She’s putting you up there.”

  I glanced briefly at Ethan. He still wasn’t giving much away, but the taste of his displeasure was thicker in the air. “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “Mari won’t get in the way of the investigation.”

  The problem wasn’t so much his sister-in-law or the investigation. It was more me staying with a man I was only barely resisting.

  “Why the two of us?” I asked. “I can handle a missing person case by myself. I don’t need Ethan to babysit.”

  Frank raised his eyebrows at that. “Do you have a problem with Ethan?”

  Yeah, he was too damn sexy for my own good. I had a hard enough time resisting the man in the few minutes our paths crossed each day—how much more difficult was it going to be if I had to spend all day and all night with him?

  Spending that much time together could only have one result—us in bed, getting hot and heavy. My sex drive was perfectly normal, even if the works were a little rusty, and there was no denying the fact I did want him. I just didn’t want to end up getting hurt. Thanks to my parents, I wasn’t very good at the casual stuff, and Ethan was the sort of man I could fall for. Except he didn’t seem to want a relationship of any kind.

  “I just think it’s a waste of resources,” I said, then realized just what I’d said the minute Frank’s expression darkened.

  “It’s my company and my people, and I’ll send who I damn well please to find my nephew.” He glared at me for several seconds, then said, “Now get going.”

  I got. Outside the door, I said, “This is going to suck big time.”

  “The job, or the fact that I’m going with you?”

  I glanced at him, saw the amusement playing about the mouth I so wanted to kiss again. “What do you
think?”

  “I think your psi abilities mesh extremely well with my pragmatism and innate ability to track a killer, which is why Frank put us on this one.”

  “Probably.” I punched the elevator button and crossed my arms. And tried not to think about constricted space and what had happened not so long ago. “It still sucks.”

  He leaned casually against the wall. And managed to look so damn hot my hormones started their crazy cartwheels again.

  “Why are you so afraid of being alone with me?”

  “I’m not afraid of being alone with you.”

  He smiled. A long, slow, dangerous smile. “Then it’s game on, Ravioli.”

  I knew in that moment my resolution to keep him at arm’s length was in big, big trouble.

  CHAPTER 2

  THE SO-CALLED GUEST HOUSE TURNED OUT TO BE A tiny little cabin barely big enough to contain the ancient old brass bed that dominated the main room. A creaky-looking wooden table and several chairs were squeezed into one corner, and in the other, a small kitchenette. The door leading to the bathroom was at the other end of the tiny house, on the left side of the bed.

  Which was my side. Heaven only knew I’d need plenty of cold showers to get through the night without giving in to the delicious temptation that would be lying beside me.

  “What can you tell me about the night your son disappeared, Mrs. Symmonds?” Ethan said, throwing his sports bag on the bed beside my case.

  He’d packed light. I’d packed heavy. Lots of layers was now my motto, whatever the actual temperature.

  Mari took a shuddery breath, and exhaled it softly. She was a small, pale woman with even paler hair. Not an albino, because her eyes were brown, but she still possessed that almost ethereal delicateness albinos often had. It was rare for a cat shifter to give off that sort of vibe, because they were usually the independent, don’t-you-worry-about-me types, but maybe it was simply the stress of the situation.