Sex & The Immortal Bad Boy

by Stephanie Rowe

  And just like that, his hands whipped out again and hauled her against him, trapping her hands between his corded thighs, palm-to-palm once again. The fireball hovered between them, nearly brushing against his throat.

  “Damn, you’re good.” And well muscled. And well . . . utterly tempting.

  “Thank you.” He almost smiled. “Call off the fireball.”

  “Or?”

  He simply raised his brow and tightened his grip on her, immobilizing her against his solid body.

  She was trapped, her only defenses rendered completely useless, and they both knew it. She couldn’t hurt him, even if she wanted to. Which she totally didn’t. She would be so happy to be trapped against the heat of his body for the rest of the millennium, assuming, of course, that she didn’t have this little inner wraith to deal with . . . Oh, idea alert.

  He scowled. “What?”

  She leaned her head to the side so she could see around the fireball. “How much do you cost?”

  His scowl deepened. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re a hired assassin, right? That’s why you’re after Becca.” When he didn’t answer, she decided that was his big, strong, manly way of agreeing with her. “So, I’ll pay you more. Work for me.”

  He was silent for a long moment.

  “Hello? Earth to Jed? You with me?”

  “What do you want to hire me for?”

  The curiosity was evident in his voice, and she grinned. “Two things. Protect me from myself and touch me.”

  His body stiffened. “What?”

  She felt her cheeks heat up at his tone. “I’m not going to hire you as a male prostitute. Geez. I just meant touching. Casual touching. Arm around the shoulder. Friendly fistfights. Stuff like that. I mean, yeah, you’re totally hot and all, but merging with your black soul would send me over the edge for sure. It wouldn’t be worth it. You can handle that, right? Just some casual friendly touching?”

  His grip loosened slightly, and she responded by dimming the fireball and moving it to the side, so he could lower his chin without singeing his whiskers. “Protect you from yourself? What does that mean?”

  “Ah, yes.” She sank more deeply against him, against the heat that was him. See? Nonsexual touching was enough . . . yeah, this was so nonsexual. Not. Give it up, Paige. You so want him. She made herself pull back slightly and she cleared her throat. “See, I have these urges that are no good for me, and clearly, you’re strong enough to keep me from doing them, as evidenced by the fact that you’ve disarmed me twice tonight already. So, you touch me, and make sure I’m a good girl, and I’ll pay you twice what you’re getting to kill Becca. Deal?”

  “Urges?” There was a light in his eyes that made her lower regions flare up in blatant disregard for her nonsexual touching plan.

  She rolled her eyes, unable to smack him in the chest since her hands were still anchored between his thighs. “Oh, for hell’s sake. Urges to kill and maim and stuff like that. Why do you keep taking everything sexually?”

  “Because you’re barely wearing anything and you’re pressing your body up against mine so tightly that I can feel every curve of your body.” His voice sounded a little harsh. “And your hands . . . have inched up.”

  “Oh.” She suddenly realized her breasts were smashed against his chest, and the T-shirt she’d worn to bed was hiked up over her hips, tangled in his arms where they were wrapped around her. And her thumbs were rubbing against the inseam of his jeans, right where . . . oh. “I . . . hadn’t noticed.” Too caught up in the overwhelming sensation of being held by him to notice the details.

  But she was noticing now. Hoo boy . . .

  He looked down at her, his face so close to hers. “Are you Satan’s right hand?”

  “No, I’m not. I no longer work for Satan in any form, though I’m considering hiring myself out as a contractor once I get my personal issues resolved.” She cocked her head. “Is that why you want to kill Becca? Because she works for Satan? Because if that’s it, then you should know she quit.”

  He suddenly looked so weary. So human. So . . . drained. “You’re sure?”

  “Of course I am. I know these things.”

  He sighed with visible frustration. “If I let you go, promise no fireballs?”

  “Of course not. If you try to kill me, I’ll fireball you. What kind of an idiot do you think I am?”

  This time his mouth definitely quirked in a brief smile. “Do you promise no fireballs unless I give you a reason to use them?”

  She contemplated it for a moment, then nodded. “I’m in.”

  He slowly loosened his grip and relaxed his thighs, and she eased her hands out from between his legs, settling back on her heels as he released her. Two steps to the right and his hand was on the bedroom door.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Yeah.”

  She jumped to her feet, feeling slightly panicky about the thought of losing the only living thing she could actually touch. “I’m serious about the offer to work for me.”

  His eyes were unreadable. “I know.”

  “So? Will you do it?” She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

  She thought she saw a flash of regret in his eyes, then he shook his head. “No.”

  “But—”

  Then he poofed out of sight. Standing in her room one second, gone the next. What?

  She vaulted off the bed and ran to the door, then felt a swirling prickle on her legs, and she looked down. Darkness surrounded her legs, and then it shot away from her and down the hall, disappearing under her front door. She stared after it, awareness dawning as she realized what he was.

  Of what he could offer her.

  So much more than she’d thought.

  So, so, so much more.

  She didn’t even bother getting dressed. She simply sprinted for the door.

  Jed reformed on the darkened street outside Paige’s apartment.

  He stepped off the curb and began to stride down the darkened street, his coat swirling about his calves, the front of his jeans uncomfortably tight from being wrapped around Paige Darlington.

  What the hell was she? A Rivka, yeah, but damn . . . for a minute or two, he’d actually been tempted to take her up on her offer. He had no time for things like bodyguarding or worrying about anything other than keeping Rafi alive and out of Junior’s hell. Jed had had no problem maintaining his single-minded focus for the last sixty years.

  Until two minutes ago when Paige had stared up at him with those hopeful eyes and that sparkle in her voice.

  He stepped around one of the garbage cans set out for the morning pickup. It was her ebullience, her unabashed declarations of what she’d wanted from him . . . yeah, that’s what it had been. She’d been brimming with an enthusiasm for life that had blasted right through his shields. His hands clenched as he recalled the feel of her hips under his touch. The curves of her body while she’d grinned up at him, mischief dancing in her eyes as she used that fireball to toy with him.

  He’d been in the darkness so long, he’d forgotten about what it was like to be around someone who was so alive. Who vibrated with energy, with passion.

  She hadn’t even cared that he was damned.

  He let his breath puff out his cheeks as he stepped around a rat scurrying into a drain, even now wanting to turn around and return to her apartment.

  Maybe some other time.

  Maybe in another life.

  Right now, it was all about Rafi.

  He tried to focus on his brother’s situation. First Jed had to free Rafi from the shadow warrior’s grasp. Then, once he knew Rafi would live, he’d have to find a way to appease Junior for the fact he hadn’t killed Becca Gibbs, because Jed’s failure to kill Becca gave Junior the right to recall Rafi to his torture chamber if he chose to do so.

  If tonight was any indication, Jed would never be able to kill Becca. He’d tried to get inside Paige in his shadow form, but had been unable to penet
rate the Rivka shields. Yet when he’d taken his human form . . . he’d been unable to make himself kill her.

  Shadow warriors didn’t kill in human form, and he was no exception. Which meant he couldn’t kill the Rivka in shadow form or in human form. Either way, Becca Gibbs would not die at his hands.

  So, how the hell was he going to keep Junior from calling in the contract and taking Rafi back to his torture chamber? There had to be something—

  “Jed!”

  He glanced over his shoulder as Paige bolted out onto the street, wearing nothing but the oversized T-shirt she’d been sleeping in. Her legs were bare, disappearing under the red cotton, her chest was heaving from the exertion, and her hair was tousled around her shoulders.

  Her hair was dark blond, he realized. He hadn’t been able to tell when they’d been in her room, but under the streetlight, he could see the gold streaks in her hair.

  “Don’t leave!” She didn’t even slow down, her bare feet slapping on the sidewalk as she threw herself at him.

  He barely had time to brace himself for the impact before her body thudded against him. She threw her arms around him, locking her grip tight, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  He caught the scent of something feminine and sweet, her skin was silky and smooth under his hands, and her legs were so tight around his hips that he could feel her feminine softness pressed up against his already hard body. “Hell.” Before he could stop himself, he crushed her against him and slammed his mouth onto hers.

  Seven

  Paige froze for a split second, and then she returned his kiss with an enthusiasm that nearly dropped him to his knees. She opened her mouth for him, her tongue danced against his, and she plastered herself against him so her breasts were pressed to his chest.

  A very female sound of satisfaction hummed in the back of her throat, and she kissed him deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust with every high-spirited movement of her tongue.

  Her tongue flirted over his teeth, and her breath was warm in his mouth, tasting of spearmint. Her fingers twisted in his hair and she tightened her thighs around his hips, wiggling against him.

  “God, you taste good,” he muttered, breaking the kiss to nibble the bare skin of her neck, grinning when she whimpered. He slipped his hands under her shirt and spanned her bare back. Her muscles flexed under his hands, and he groaned at the softness of her skin. She was pure female temptation. All softness and innocence, and he wanted her so badly every muscle in his body was shaking.

  He moved his right hand down over her hip, hooking his index finger over the delicate strand of lace on the sides of her underwear. He tugged it gently down, letting his thumb brush over the delicate skin on the inside of her thigh, and felt a surge of heat when Paige sucked in her breath and tightened her grip on his shoulders.

  Then there was a loud catcall and a whistle, yanking him back to reality in a cold hurry. He jerked his head back from her throat, cursing himself. Hell, Jed. On a street?

  “No, no, no! Don’t stop!” Paige grabbed his hair and tried to tug him back down. “I’m not done.”

  He chuckled softly as he returned the lace of her underwear to its proper position. “Yeah, I wasn’t either, trust me.” He carefully untangled her from him, and set her back on the ground, taking a second to tug her shirt back over her hips and run his fingers down her arms, before he finally dropped his hands.

  Her eyes were wide, her lips parted as she ran her tongue over them, and the flush of arousal stained her cheeks. She took a deep breath that made her breasts rise under her T-shirt. “Well. I certainly wasn’t expecting that when I came running out here.”

  He cleared his throat, feeling like an ass for molesting her on a public street. “Yeah, well, sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Oh, no.” She lightly smacked his chest. “Don’t be sorry. It rocked.”

  Something loosened in his gut and he grinned. “Yeah?”

  She nodded as she fingered her lips. “That was a fantastic kiss, I’ll tell you right now. I got kissed by this Markku a few weeks ago, and we were under the influence of Penha pheromones, so it was pretty intense . . .”

  His grin turned into a scowl.

  She smiled, her eyes twinkling as she reached up and lightly brushed her lips over his. “But this was way better.”

  His hands went to her hips and he held her still.

  For a moment, neither of them moved, then her eyes darkened with heat as she rubbed her belly against the front of his jeans. “Seriously, Jed, you can kiss me like that anytime. I have no problem with a public street if you want to do it again?” Her voice rose hopefully at the end.

  He growled, entirely unable to resist the invitation as he hauled her against him and dropped his head to—

  She threw up a hand to block him just before his mouth reached hers. “Oh, hell.”

  He blinked and tried to focus. “Oh, hell, what?”

  “Hello? Where’s my brain?” She patted his cheek and gently pushed him back. “I can’t kiss you.”

  “You can’t?” He felt like an idiot repeating her words, but he was having a little trouble getting his mind off the taste of her lips and the silkiness of her skin, and the fact that her enthusiastic response to his kiss was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced. “Why not?”

  She grimaced. “Mixing your black aura with my inner wraith could be really bad news for me.”

  “Inner wraith?” She’d gotten his attention now. “That’s what you have?”

  “Yeah, kinda. Inner wraith trying to be an outer one . . . long story. No happy ending yet, so it’s not worth telling.” She hugged her arms to her chest and bounced in place, not dressed for the cool night air of the approaching autumn. “You’re a shadow warrior, right?”

  “You know what I am?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice as he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

  She beamed as she slid her arms into his coat. “So you are one? That’s fantastic. I figured as much when you did the whole disappear-into-a-black-cloud thing before you shot out the door, totally ditching me without a good-bye. Kind of rude, just so you know—”

  “Wait a sec. You know what a shadow warrior is? And you still came out here after me? Alone?” Damn. He liked the sight of her in his coat. He tugged it tight around her.

  She rolled her eyes and lifted her arm so his jacket sleeve slid down her arm and exposed her hand. She waggled her fingers at him. “Ooooh, big scary shadow warrior. Deadly killer guy.” She dropped her hand and snorted. “Give me a break, Jed. You’ve got no bloodlust in your eyes right now. I’m not worried.”

  Damn if he almost didn’t feel like laughing at her again. Her irreverence was almost contagious. “Most people realize what I am and run away screaming. Being evil and damned will do that.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I know exactly how that feels. Sucks, doesn’t it?”

  He frowned. “I don’t really pay attention—”

  “Of course you do.” She patted his chest. “When that angel treated me like a leper, it really upset me. Which is why I’d never treat you like that, even if I was afraid you wanted to kill me, which you don’t, so we’re good.”

  He blinked. “You met an angel?” He wasn’t even sure he believed in anything that good anymore. Except possibly Paige. Inner wraith notwithstanding, there was something about her that was just so damned innocent. Untainted. He picked up a lock of her hair and brushed his thumb over the tip.

  She smiled at him and patted his hand, apparently encouraging him to keep playing with her hair.

  Worked for him.

  “The angel’s another long story. Bad ending.” She gave a dramatic shudder. “Which is why I need you to get me to a gateway. Can you do it?” She fastened an expec-tant gaze on his face.

  “A gateway?” He had to think for a minute about what she was talking about. “You mean, a gateway between heaven and hell? One of those gateways?” At her eager nod, he sig
hed and ran his hand through his hair. “I haven’t thought of a gateway in years. I can’t—”

  She grabbed his arm. “No, no, no. You can! I know the gateways are all closed up now, but they’re still there, right?” Her fingers dug into the muscles in his forearm, and he caught an undercurrent of desperation that belied her carefree attitude. “I’m sure I could find my way through if you’d just point me to one. Please? It’s really important.”

  He tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged softly. “Trust me, sweetheart, if I could, I’d jet you over to one and drop you off to have at it, but I don’t know where they are. Shadow warriors haven’t guarded them for almost five hundred years. Before my time.”

  Her shoulders sagged with a disappointment that made him feel like an ass. “I know you haven’t guarded them, but you don’t think you could find one? Just one?”

  “Hell, Paige. I wish I did. I really do.” He was surprised to realize he meant it. He just . . . something about Paige just made him want to be a better man, the kind of man who could take five minutes to give her what she wanted. Her smile would be enough to carry a man for at least a century or two, no matter how much shit he had to wade through.

  She mustered a smile. Even at half strength, it still called to him. “Well, I appreciate the sentiment, even if it still leaves me completely hosed.”

  His eyes narrowed at the desolation in her tone, and he began to realize that she was in serious trouble, far more than her spunk would indicate. “What exactly is your problem?”

  “I’m going over to the dark side. I mean, I’m going to become the dark side. The whole shebang. That’s me.” She sighed. “Paige the Evil Wench. It’s all going to get really really ugly, trust me. I mean, I’m all about being evil, given that I’m a Rivka, but not being able to touch my friends and descending into this pit of mental depravity where I can’t feel love? Rip out my heart now and spare me the pain.” She plopped herself down on the curb and propped her elbows on her knees, then rested her chin in her hands. “I don’t suppose you changed your mind about my offer, did you?”

  It took less than a second for her dejection to penetrate his shields. With a sigh, he sat down next to her and cupped the back of her neck, kneading the tight cords of muscle. “Guarding you from yourself?”