by Moira Rogers
“Sometimes that’s all there is,” he agreed, his voice rough. “But he didn’t break your spirit. You’ve come farther in seven years than I have in over seventy. That’s spirit. That’s strength.”
“Yes, and maybe it’d be easier if I were as broken as I should be. I wouldn’t have to worry that I could have done more, that all my rationalizations are bullshit.” Suppressed tears burned her throat. “I wouldn’t have to consider the possibility that I gave that bastard the one thing he was never supposed to be able to touch, and for no damn good reason at all.”
“That’s bullshit.” Adam sat up smoothly, bringing his face close to hers. “It’s not a competition to see who can suffer the longest. The fact that I hid in the woods for eight decades doesn’t make my pain real. It makes me a tired, bad-tempered fool.”
“You’re like a mule.” Even as she rasped out the words, she lifted her hands to frame his cheeks. “When I start calling you stubborn, you know you have a real problem.”
“I’m old enough to be set in my ways. I earned every damn scrap of stubborn I have.” He turned his head and kissed her thumb. “All of it, honey.”
He was fascinating, and he scared the hell out of her. “Last chance, Adam,” she whispered. “Don’t you want to go?”
“Fuck, no.”
Fighting the inevitable was exhausting, so Cindy let go and touched her mouth to his. She meant it to be a slow exploration, but her hands shook as she rested them on his shoulders. Arousal coursed through her, hotter and faster than anything she could have expected, and she quickly deepened the kiss.
His fingers thrust into her hair, holding her head still as his tongue stroked over hers. She had to get closer, so she angled her leg over his and slid into his lap.
He stared up at her from glazed, hungry eyes. “We doing this for the right reasons?”
She’d already lost track. “What are the right reasons?”
“Because we’re so hot for each other that we can’t stop ourselves.”
“I didn’t think there was ever a question about that.” Cindy shifted in his lap, easing her hips against his. He was hard between her legs, solid and hot, and he groaned as she rocked down against him.
His hands fisted in her hair, tilted her head back until his lips brushed her throat. “Best reason in the world, then.”
The simple touch streaked hot pleasure through her. “Does lazing about in bed like rich people include torrid sexual encounters?”
“Even if it didn’t, I don’t mind a little revisionist history.” His tongue dragged across the skin over her pounding pulse, and dark, hot magic twisted tight between them. “The past isn’t as pretty as people like to pretend these days.”
“Nostalgia’s easier.” Certainly easier than trying to maintain a conversation while he licked her throat. “Adam.”
“Cindy.” Another lick, a little faster. Rougher.
“You’re a tease.” She turned her head and bit his earlobe, almost hard enough to hurt.
“Am I?” He braced his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back against the rumpled blankets. “Seems to me I’m plenty willing to follow through.”
“So the unresolved sexual tension is my fault?” Playing around felt good, almost as good as having him lean over her with the promise of such heat in his eyes.
“Or we’re just both responsible adults in the middle of a crisis.” His fingers trailed down her body, teasing at her breasts through the fabric of her shirt. “Mostly responsible, anyway.”
Cindy moaned, feeling less responsible by the second. She needed his hands on her bare skin, so she dragged the thin cotton up and over her head. The fabric had barely cleared her hands when he rewarded her, cupping her flesh with warm, work-roughened hands.
There was no stifling the cry that rose in her throat. She wanted him too much, and denial had driven her almost to the point of pain. “Don’t stop touching me this time. Please.”
“We don’t have time for me to take you like I want.” His voice was as harsh as his fingers were gentle, a delicious contrast. “But I’m not leaving this bed until I see you come.”
Cindy trapped his hands against her skin. “Don’t jinx us like that. We have time, plenty of it.”
“Shh.” He lifted his hands, moving hers easily enough. They ended up trapped against the bed as he leaned down and let his breath feather over one tight nipple. “Stop thinking so much.”
She strained toward his mouth, caught between another whimper and a laugh. “It’s what I do.”
“Not anymore,” he whispered, then closed his lips around her.
Everything in her zeroed in on that single touch, focused on the hot pull of his mouth and the way he slicked his tongue, rough and wet, over her nipple. She forgot to think, forgot everything except how to moan his name.
He groaned and lifted his head, eyes blazing. “My name sounds good on your lips.”
She yanked her hands free and pulled his mouth to hers. There was no finesse in it, no careful caresses specifically crafted to make him want her more. All she could manage was need, and she poured it into every second of the kiss.
What she got back was passion, pure and simple. He tilted his head and pressed closer, his deliberation fading. Pain lanced through the pleasure as her tongue snagged on the tip of a fang, and Adam stiffened at the hint of coppery blood.
He lifted his head, breathing ragged. “Sorry, that wasn’t—not on purpose.”
“I know.” Cindy rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth until she felt the tiny wound close.
“I’m not in control. I’m not—” He laughed and shook his head before leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “I know you don’t want blood and sex to get confused. I’ll try harder.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She gripped the front of his shirt and kissed him firmly. “As long as you want the sex more, I mean. Of course you want my—my blood.” It felt odd to say, and even odder to be fine with it.
“No.” Adam caught her hands again, this time pressing them to the bed on either side of her head. “I want you. The blood is a means to an end, Cindy. Sometimes it’s to give me strength, and sometimes…”
He nipped her lower lip and she felt the tiniest prick before his tongue slid over the spot. Magic roared to life and heat crashed into her as he kissed her again, and this time she felt each hard thrust of his tongue as a hot, tugging pull deep inside her.
Cindy had already come to associate it with him, the dizzying combination of too much and not enough, and she bucked under him. His grip on her wrists held, somehow soothing the most primitive, animal part of her. Adam was strong, commanding, and she wanted him.
She relaxed without thinking then, pulled her mouth from his and bared her throat.
A wolf might have taken that invitation and bitten her, leaving a very human mark that served an instinctive purpose. Instead Adam licked her pulse and settled his body over hers, his hips cradled between her thighs so his first rocking grind let her feel the hard length of his erection through their jeans.
The sensation wrenched a cry and a shudder from her. “Adam.” She needed him closer, his skin against hers. Him inside her.
“Don’t move your hands,” he whispered, then slipped away, leaving a blazing trail of hot, wet kisses along her body as he went. Down, down until his breath blew hot against the skin just above her jeans and his fingers tugged at the button.
Anticipation sang in her veins, and she lifted her hips before he even got her pants unzipped. He just chuckled and eased her pants and underwear down. The fabric hit the floor and his hands returned, on the inside of her knees this time and urging her legs apart. “You’re gorgeous.”
Her hands shook, but she left them on the bed. “Take off your shirt.”
A slow, wicked smile quirked his lips as he jerked the flannel shirt up. A tight, white undershirt twisted with it, riding up to give her a glimpse of a well-muscled abdomen before he wrestled both over his head with a
frustrated snarl.
He tossed the discarded shirts into the growing pile next to the bed and grasped her legs again. “Better?”
“Beautiful.” He was both rugged and elegant, lean and strong. Smooth and rough.
Teasing and determined. His hands slid slowly up the insides of her thighs, and his gaze never left her face as his thumbs drew swooping half-circles on her skin. When they finally grazed her aching flesh, he groaned and ran one up to brush the slightest touch against her clit.
Cindy wanted to close her eyes, tilt back her head and drink in every touch until her body fell apart. But what she wanted more was to watch him as her pleasure grew, see the way his own stare heated as he pushed her over the edge.
She held his gaze and moved, just a little, chasing his thumb with her hips. He made a quiet, satisfied noise and shifted his other hand down, one finger teasing just inside her. “You’re hot. Wet. So damn ready.”
“Yeah, I am.” Fire streaked through her, and she panted his name. “Take off the rest of your clothes.”
“No.” The bed shifted under her as he moved lower, wedging his shoulders between her knees. When his breath fell against her skin again, it tickled her inner thigh. “You can move your hands, if you want. I don’t mind a woman yanking my hair while I’ve got my tongue inside her.”
Cindy’s breath caught. “Fuck.” She’d pay him back for this sensual torment, for every single second of—
His tongue stroked over her clit, and her breath escaped on a relieved sob. She’d never been so close to orgasm—so painfully close—with barely a touch, but denial was starting to take its toll. They’d been making out like teenagers, stealing kisses and grinding against each other.
Even now, he moved so slowly she wanted to scream. “You’re killing me.”
He pushed her legs wider, the soft licks deepening into something demanding. Pleasure flooded her, so intense she saw stars, and she couldn’t stop her hips from thrusting up against his mouth.
Cindy clutched Adam’s shoulders and tried to watch him as he worked her with his lips and tongue. He needed to make her come; she could feel the hunger in the fine tremor of his hands on her thighs.
“I should make you wait,” she whispered, but it was no use. She couldn’t tease him when she was flying apart, shaking as he drew her to the edge and beyond in a desperate explosion of tension and longing.
His fingers stroked inside her again, one first, then another, thrusting deep as he flattened his tongue against her clit. His groan vibrated against her, making the world spin.
“It’ll never be enough,” he murmured against her, twisting his fingers. “You could come a hundred times and it wouldn’t be enough.”
Another wave of pleasure thundered through her. Cindy screamed his name, her ears ringing with the force of her orgasm, and drove her fingers into his hair.
He lifted his head and swore, and she realized the ringing noise was unmistakably coming from the extension telephone by her bed.
She scrambled to answer it, her limbs still shaky. “Hello?”
“Cindy?” It was Sam’s voice. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” The word came out breathless and froggy, so Cindy cleared her throat. “I’m fine. Is something wrong?”
“I wanted to make sure you hadn’t forgotten the meeting this morning.” A brief pause. “Not that I usually find you particularly forgetful, but Gavin will be awake soon and might notice that Adam never came back.”
“Right.” She chanced a glance at Adam, who had rolled to his back and covered his face with his arm. “Adam’s coming. With me. To the meeting.”
Adam choked on a noise that sounded half laugh, half groan.
“Well. In that case, I suppose I’ll see you two shortly.” Cindy couldn’t tell if Sam was worried or fighting laughter.
“Uh-huh.” She dropped the receiver back in the cradle and checked the clock before kneeling over Adam’s legs. “We’ve got ten minutes. Are you going to slap my hands again if I try to take off your pants?”
His laughter cut off, and this time there was no mistaking the noise he made for anything but a groan. “Christ, no.”
His cock strained against the fly of his jeans, and the buttons gave way with only a little coaxing. Cindy lingered, her hand barely grazing his erection through his boxers.
A snarl tore free of him. “My turn to get teased?”
He deserved it, and she’d sworn she’d do it too—taunt him with the promise of pleasure until he was as desperate as she was. Only he already looked desperate, and she found herself wanting only to ease that need.
She touched his face as she kissed him softly. “No teasing.”
His lips seized hers as he arched up, grinding his cock against her hand. Cindy kissed him hard, then dropped her mouth to his jaw and chest. She trailed her tongue down his stomach and tugged gently at the waistband of his boxers.
“Cindy.” His fingernails scraped teasingly along her scalp as he buried his fingers in her hair. “God, woman, you will be the death of me.”
“Really?” His erection was long and thick, hard under her hand when she gripped him. “I’d rather be the life of you.” She licked him once, from base to tip, and looked up to meet his eyes as she closed her mouth around him.
This time he gasped her name, or at least the first part of it. His hips popped up off the bed, just an inch or so before he stilled, but the lack of control was enough to send a throb of heat through her.
Slow wouldn’t do. She sucked him hard and deep, as hungry for his pleasure as he had been for hers. He grasped at her hair and moaned, just noises at first, then words. Her name, and encouragement, jumbled together with whispered promises of the things he’d do to her when they had time, the ways he’d take her, work at her, claim her.
He came with flattering speed and a low, throaty noise that rasped out of his chest and tugged at her body and heart.
If life were perfect, she could curl against his chest and kiss him until their ardor rose again. Instead, she rested her forehead on his denim-clad thigh. “I hate this meeting already.”
A rusty chuckle answered her as he relaxed his hand and stroked her hair. “Me too. There aren’t enough showers in the world to save us from Gavin’s angry glares. Maybe Sam will convince him to stay in bed.”
“I don’t care.” She’d intended to make him feel better about risking his friend’s wrath, but she surprised herself by finding she meant the words. “I don’t care what anyone thinks about this but us.”
Warmth kindled in his eyes as he moved his stroking fingers from her hair to her cheek. “Me either.”
Cindy climbed in his lap and kissed him, careful to avoid pressing her body to his. “We have to go.”
“I know.” His tongue snuck out. Traced her lip. “Now.”
“Fuck.” She shuddered and climbed off the bed. Digging through her dresser for fresh clothes provided a distraction, but she didn’t dare look back at him, sated and debauched on her bed. “Getting dressed now.”
The bed creaked, and she heard his feet hit the floor on the other side of the bed. “I’m going into the bathroom to clean up. Meet you downstairs in five minutes?”
“Sounds good.”
When he’d gone, she dropped her face to her hands. She’d known the night before that she was in danger of losing her heart to Adam. What she hadn’t known was how imminent that danger was.
Fifty percent of men in the room were glaring at Adam like they’d gladly kill him.
Granted, in this case fifty percent amounted to two, but Gavin and Joe had more than enough ire between them to make up an army’s worth of disapproval. Dylan looked more unsettled than upset, though he seemed to be splitting his worry between Sasha and Brynn, who Sam had seated at the opposite end of the table, as if Adam were in danger of lunging at any moment.
He should have been. A week ago the power surging through Brynn had made his mouth water. It hadn’t settled in that time; if anything, the c
haos and upset of recent weeks had whipped the feral energy inside her to a frenzy of magic. Tempting, to be sure. But easily resisted.
Too easily resisted, and that spelled trouble.
Keith, at least, had more important things on his mind. “Did you find anything that will do what I need?”
Sasha toyed with the aged volume in front of her, then slid the book toward Keith. “I’ll need Adam’s help, and Cindy’s, but I think it’ll work.”
Keith squinted at the book for a few moments, then shook his head. “It’s gibberish to me. Translate?”
“It’s not that complicated,” Dylan said, leaning forward with all the eagerness of an excited puppy. “It’s a spell that combines bits of magic from all three—”
Keith held up a hand. “I don’t need to know how it works, just that it will. You’re sure this will convince Recco and the vampire that the refugees are still in town?”
She nodded. “I’ll be able to…sort of broadcast their auras. To anyone who knows what one is like, it should feel like a vampire’s blood bond. Like Adam’s bond.”
Adam stirred himself to ask a question, even with Joe’s stare burning a hole in the side of his head. “What do you need from me?”
The witch lifted a slightly nervous gaze to his. “I need to feel what a blood bond is like from a vampire’s perspective. Dylan’s offered to let you feed and form the bond so I can familiarize myself with it.”
Not an intimacy he particularly wanted to share with Dylan, but if the town and its people were at stake…
Adam glanced at Cindy, who hesitated before asking, “Would you rather I do it instead?”
He bit back the immediate negative because it would require too much explanation. A bond with Cindy would certainly be preferable—until Sasha started probing at it with her magic. There was no telling what she would learn about the complicated tangle of affection and lust twisting inside him.