* * * *
Devra leaned against the closed door and closed her eyes. How embarrassing. To be caught fucking the sexiest man while another one, equally gorgeous, watched. She should feel ashamed at least a little, right? So why didn't she? Devra wondered about that, but let the thought drift away. A bath was what she wanted right now. After the rousing bout of sex, a soothing bath sounded perfect.
She opened her eyes and gasped aloud. The bathroom was a veritable playground for sensuous water play. White marble tile covered the entire floor and the edges of a sunken tub that was big enough for two or three. It was round with brass spigots and sparkling white porcelain. To the left of the tub was a glass-enclosed shower with a marble bench at one end and a brass showerhead hanging on the opposite wall. Various bottles sat on a shelf right above the bench.
Curious as to what was in the bottles, Devra crept quietly over and carefully lifted one.
She removed the stopper and immediately Joshua's scent flooded her nostrils and permeated her skin. She looked for a label of some sort to give her an idea of what it was and where it came from, but there was none.
Cautiously she set the bottle back in its place and walked back toward the sunken tub. She chewed her bottom lip as she contemplated whether or not to take a quick soak in the sinful-looking tub. Straightening her shoulders, Devra decided to hell with the two men outside. She was taking a much-needed soak. She turned on the faucets, testing the temperature until it was just right and then slipped into the tub.
“Oh yes. This feels so good.” The hot water seeped into her tired, aching muscles and soothed them.
Relaxing in the tub, Devra relived the memories of Joshua making love to her. Each time she thought of his mouth on her, or his hands, shivers raced down her spine. He was one hot lover, fulfilling every need with explosive pleasure. Just thinking about his hard cock sliding into her vagina made her tingle in places she didn't even know tingled.
She wondered if Joshua would take her again, and how soon. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the rim of the tub and let her mind drift. She was close to slumber when a soft brush like butterfly wings startled her. Opening her eyes, she looked around the room expecting to find Joshua standing there looking down at her. No one was there.
She shook her head. “Devra,” she whispered to herself, “You are losing it.” She was closing her eyes when she felt it again, this time a little stronger. “What the hell is that?” she groused, sitting up in the tub and pulling her knees up. She waited for it to happen again and when it didn't she chalked it up to weariness. But her body felt rejuvenated and the aches from their vigorous sex eased. She figured it was time to get out and face the men in the other room.
It was not really what she wanted to do, but she wasn't into threesomes and they should know it. She had to admit she was a bit curious about the other guy. He was the same one she'd seen at the bar tonight. The one she'd been observing right before Joshua walked out on stage. Who was he? Obviously a friend of Joshua's if he had free run of the house.
The stranger wasn't too hard on the eyes, sexy in a dark, dangerous way. He looked vaguely familiar. But not like Joshua. Just thinking about Joshua brought her satiated body back to life. Down girl!
Standing up, water sluicing from her body, Devra stepped from the tub and grabbed a towel to dry off. Quickly donning her dress, she finger-combed her hair, straightened her shoulders and opened the door.
“Okay, guys,” she came to a halt when she realized the room was empty. “Well, that's great,” she muttered placing her hands on her hips. “I come out here to give our voyeur a piece of my mind and here I'm all alone. Where is my hero when I need him?”
“I'm right here, but if you want me to call Damon back, I will.”
She jumped, squealing, and turned to find Joshua leaning negligently against the doorframe, holding a bottle of champagne and two flutes. Putting her hand over her racing heart, she glared at him. “Don't do that. You scared the hell out of me.”
He arched a dark brow, his mouth lifting in a smile at the corner. “Forgive me. Now do you want me to call back…” he paused as if searching for words and then said, “'our voyeur,' I believe you called him?”
“No, I don't want you to call him back, you jerk,” she replied, stomping her bare foot on the floor. “So don't get your nose out of joint.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she narrowed her gaze on him. “Why don't you tell me why Damon just walked in and watched us having sex without saying a word?” She grinned inwardly when his face flushed a deep red, and he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.
“I was too distracted to sense when he came in, else I would have told him to wait downstairs.”
Her sixth sense kicked in at his choice of words. The reporter inside her came to life now that the woman had been satiated. Very softly, she asked, “What do you mean if you'd sensed him?” Inside she hoped and prayed he was still preoccupied enough to tell her. Of course that was not to be.
He straightened away from the door and silently stalked her, his eyes and body oozing sexuality in spades. He set the champagne and glasses on the nightstand before turning toward her. The smile he gave her was pure unadulterated sin. Damn! She held up her hands to ward him off, he simply brushed them aside and pulled her into his arms.
“So, my little inquisitor has returned full force, has she?” he asked in a soft voice, just before brushing his lips across hers not once, but twice. She groaned softly, her hands coming up to fist in his hair, drawing him in for a firmer, stronger kiss. His tongue pressed against her lips, seeking, demanding entrance and she gave it willingly. She opened wide, moaning when his tongue swept inside, bringing with it the hunger and need she'd thought fulfilled by their time in bed. Evidently that wasn't the case.
As he kissed her, she felt her nipples pebble and dampness between her thighs.
It was like a drug, an addiction. She couldn't seem to get enough of him. Now she knew what an addict must feel like. Wanting and needing that fix and ready to give anything to get it. She shivered when Joshua's hand skimmed up her side and covered her aching breast, his fingers pulling and tugging the nipple, sending waves of desire coursing through her veins, boiling her blood.
His kiss brought forth images of them together on the bed, in the shower, and against the wall. But, the one that truly took her breath away was of him taking her from behind. To feel his hands grip her ass as he thrust his hard cock in and out of her. The images were so powerful she thought she might faint from the overwhelming hunger.
Desire, hot and heavy, pooled between her thighs, sizzling through her blood. She felt like she was dying of thirst and Joshua was the water she needed to survive.
This need, this hunger scared her. To need him—this much, this soon—scared the hell out of her. So she fought it with everything in her. Pushing against his chest, she tore her mouth from his and stepped out of his arms. Chest heaving, her body trembling, she asked, “What the hell is going on here? How can I want you again so soon and this bad?” She bit her lip to keep from begging him to take her, to pick her up toss her on the bed and fuck her unconscious. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body to keep from reaching out and grabbing him.
“It's hard to explain,” he gasped, running his hand through his hair.
“Try,” she commanded. “I'm about two seconds away from walking out that door.” Turning away, Devra began pacing. “I don't know what's happening to me, Joshua. When I'm near you all I can think about is sex—hard, rough, mind-blowing sex. My God! We just burned up the sheets less than twenty minutes ago and already I want you even more, if that's at all possible.” Her body shook and every nerve ending was alive and kicking. She turned to him and found him watching her, his eyes sparkling with desire and something more. And that something more frightened her.
“Tell me. What the hell is going on?”
Chapter Eight
Joshua cursed his hunger, his need for this woman. He kne
w exactly what she was feeling, for now that they'd made love, they were connected. He could read every erotic thought she had, every desire, and damned if he didn't want to fulfill her every desire right now, and to hell with talking.
He wanted to do all those things she imagined, and more. He wanted to take her in the ass. To sink slowly in her tight little hole inch by inch until he was seated to the hilt. Just thinking about it made his cock lengthen and harden. Dammit! He should have put on his silk pajama bottoms instead of his jeans. Jeans that were now cutting off the circulation to his dick. And quite possibly his head.
“Joshua?” Her question drew him back to the present.
Trepidation cooled his desire. If he didn't conjure up the right words to tell her the truth about himself, what he was, he might lose her. He couldn't explain the feeling threatening to choke him, but if it had a taste it would be bittersweet. What he wouldn't give to take her in his arms right now and kiss her senseless. But that was not going to happen. Already his arms felt empty, his heart breaking, just thinking about losing her.
“I should have known the reporter in you and the woman I made love to were closer than I realized. You can't shut down the inquisitive part—that part of you that wants to know the how, why, when and where of everything.” Taking several deep gulping breaths, he prayed his ardor would cool enough for him to explain without attacking her. His arousal was riding high and his dick itched for her warmth.
“I'm waiting,” she tapped her foot on the carpeted floor. She really was an impatient thing. That was apparent by her earlier actions when they were groping each other. Her hot little hands had nearly driven him insane with lust. Even now his body craved her touch
“Would you stop thinking about sex for one damn minute and talk to me? I swear men have a one-track mind and it leads straight to their dicks.”
It was all he could do not to chuckle at her words. One look from her green eyes and he sobered quickly. If he laughed now, Devra would likely hit him over the head with something.
“You'd better sit down,” he said gesturing toward the bed. He watched her walk to the bed, her eyes never leaving his. His thoughts drifted again to her being naked, bound to his bed, helpless and at his mercy while he did everything he wanted to do and more. He wanted to pleasure her like she'd never been pleasured before, in ways that she'd never even dreamed about. When she cleared her throat he knew that wasn't likely to happen.
Heaviness filled his heart. Devra might see it as betrayal that he'd hidden who and what he was from her. Already he could feel his heart breaking, cracking into a million pieces. His soul was crying out to its mate. An ache centered in his chest, each breath becoming painful. He would cease to exist should she leave him. Since they'd made love and connected on all levels of intimacy, he would wither and die if she left him.
He sat down beside her, took her hand in his, and rubbed his thumb across her soft, delicate skin. “Your skin is so soft and smooth—it reminds me of a newborn.” Her fingers tightened around his and squeezed before letting go.
It was time. Time for him take the chance on losing his mate. Because he was certain once she learned the truth she could walk out the door without looking back. He closed his eyes and prayed it would be over quickly.
“You're stalling,” she reminded him.
Yes, he was stalling. But, the inevitable was here. Time to face the music.
“Devra, I just want to say that you are the most remarkable woman I've ever met. You make me burn like a raging inferno and humble me at the same time.”
“Joshua,”
He held up his hand to forestall her words. “No, let me say this. I'm not what you think I am. I come from a race of people who are similar and yet different to your kind in many ways. Do you remember the first time we met, and you asked me why my music was so different? If it was magical or hypnotic?” He waited for her to nod before continuing. “In a way it is. I put all my feelings, hunger and need into every note, every song that I play. When the crowd reaches euphoria, or high arousal, I feed off those feelings.” He turned to look at her, to gauge her reaction to his words and was relieved to see impatience in her questioning gaze instead of disbelief or horror. Maybe there was hope? “With you it's different. From the first time I touched you, tasted you, I knew you were the something I needed to continue to live. You are my true mate.”
“What? A good fuck to give you the high you need to survive until next time?” she asked sarcastically. She rose from the bed and moved away.
He started to go to her. To wrap his arms around her and hold her close, but knew by the stiffness of her shoulders and her arms wrapped around her middle, that it wasn't a good idea. So he stayed where he was and waited.
“You must think I'm some gullible, horny woman, who will buy that shit, but I'm not and I won't.” Grabbing her shoes, she stormed from the room without so much as a backward glance.
“Devra, wait.” He called out but it was too late. She was beyond hearing, beyond listening. His little hellcat was hopping mad and horny at the same time, just like the first night they'd met.
This was not going well. Not at all. Dammit, Devra was his mate, and before the night was through she was going to know it and accept it. He was on his way out of the bedroom when he heard the front door slam. Did Devra truly think she could leave without him? He heard the roar of an engine—his Mustang! He couldn't believe it! He ran quickly down the steps and out the front door in time to watch Devra drive away in his car. Not hers but his. Damn! “Where the hell did she get my keys?”
He looked at her car. “Fine, baby. I'll just follow you in yours.”
Two could play this game.
He ran down the steps, got into her car and cursed. Shit! She had taken her keys when she stole his car. He stomped back to the house, cursing every step of the way. He slammed the front door and went to the den. He still couldn't believe she'd taken off in his car. Going to his desk he picked up the phone, and dialed a number. It rang twice before a sleepy male answered.
“This had better be damn good to wake me up at fucking midnight. I'm a married man now.”
“Roarke, it's Joshua. I need you to come to the house and pick me up.”
He heard the faint rustling of sheets and Roarke's sleep-roughened question, “Why, what the hell happened? Did your woman steal your car?” his gravelly chuckle sounding loud in Joshua's ear.
“Just get your ass out of bed and over here pronto.”
“You know maybe you should give her a little time to absorb what you told her?”
“No! I need to get to her now. If I don't, it will be too late.” He couldn't explain the urgency he felt, he just knew he had to get to Devra now. Tonight.
“Are you sure? You remember how Melissa reacted when I gave her the news.”
Yes, Joshua remembered. Melissa had stomped, thrown things, and screamed at the top of her lungs. But in the end she'd come to accept Roarke and what he was. Why couldn't Devra do that?
“Joshua?” It was Melissa. “Roarke's right. You need to give her time to process everything you've told her.” Shit! Give her time?
“I know it's hard, but just give her some time. Let her stew over it tonight and then tomorrow give her a call, or better yet send her flowers.”
Melissa was right. Joshua knew this but it still smarted.
“Okay, fine. I'll wait until tomorrow to contact her.” He hung up the phone.
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Devra.”
His mind drifted, traveling along the path that led to Devra. Her hurt and anger spilled into his mind, nearly choking him. I'm sorry baby, he whispered. Please forgive me. Love me. Another emotion almost as strong as the anger slammed into him. Arousal. She might be angry but she was horny as well.
Her scent filled his head, swirling around him like tendrils, embedding deep inside him. A slow smile formed as he wondered if it would always be this way. The need, the hunger, so strong and powerful.
* * * *
Devra cursed herself a thousand times over. She slapped the steering wheel. “You are so stupid,” she muttered quietly. “What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into this time, Devra?” She uttered every curse word she could think of before she calmed down a fraction. Her instincts about Joshua had been right on target—she'd hit the bull's-eye dead center. He was a mystery alright; she just never expected that he wasn't human.
Dammit, she was a rational woman, a newspaper reporter, for God's sake, so why was he buying his story hook, line and sinker? It made no sense, and yet, strangely, in her heart, she believed every word he'd said. It wasn't just the mind-blowing sex talking, either. No, everything that Joshua said spoke to her.
Vampire… A shiver of fear raced along her spine, one hand moving to feel her neck. Finding no bite marks, she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Okay, so he's not a blood-sucking vampire.” She spied her street up ahead, and maneuvered the car onto her narrow road and up her driveway. She brought the car to a stop and turned it off. Devra sat there staring off into space, the questions racing through her mind.
“So, what are you Joshua, and where do you come from?” she asked the starlit sky. Another thought hit her. Oh god! What if she got pregnant? Her hand immediately covered her stomach. What if she was already pregnant? Would her child be normal or like Joshua? If what he said was true and she was his mate, then what did that mean exactly? Would she become like him? Immortal? Or would he revert to being human? She covered her face with her hands. So many questions. She grabbed her purse and got out. After closing the door, she ran her hands along the door of the car. It was a beautiful red Mustang and well taken care of. Briefly she wondered if Joshua was spitting nails that she had stolen it, and then shrugged. Too damn bad! He should have let her follow him or…
Haunting Melody Page 8