Demon Ryder

by Hunter, Tamara

  Ryder thrust his body against an area and pushed. A portion of the wall shifted, exposing just enough space for them to squeeze through.

  “Go!”

  But Camille didn’t move, only shifted her eyes to his, allowing him to see the myriad of questions reflected there.

  “Trust me, Camille.”

  Her indecision lasted only a few seconds as the sound of pounding feet grew closer. “Come with us.”

  Ryder’s mouth tightened. “There’s not enough room for me.”

  “I’m not leaving you!”

  “You have to.” Anchoring a hand behind her neck, he tugged her closer until their lips met, hers soft beneath his. He held a tight rein on his emotions, not wanting to assume anything. A second later, her lips parted, allowing him entrance into the sweetness of her mouth.

  His tongue mated with hers, capturing her taste and committing it to memory. Her mouth was succulent and he could feast of it forever. Even if he never kissed her again, holding her was enough. He groaned, tugging her even closer.

  Camille knew he meant the kiss as a type of reassurance, but the feel of his firm mouth beneath hers had her wishing for more time. Desire flowed through her, guiding her to wrap her arms around his neck.

  He ended the kiss, but the way he continued gazing at her mouth clued her in to how much more he craved. He brushed strands of hair away from her face. “I’ll join you two shortly.”

  “Be careful.”

  Nodding, he gritted his teeth as he reached in the front pocket of his jeans. “Here.” He handed her a set of keys. “You’ll come out in a maintenance room. Take the service elevator to the top floor. The smallest key unlocks the elevator so it’ll stop on the top floor.”

  She frowned. “What’s up there?”

  He winked. “My home.”

  ****

  Clicking on the flashlight, Camille hurried through the cramped space, pulling Gizeel by the hand. She yearned to glance behind her to see if she could spot Ryder, or ascertain if anyone followed them, but released the temptation from her mind and kept pushing forward. Within the narrow space and the uphill climb, progress proved slow and laborious.

  At the end, the tunnel was blocked by something large and smooth. Camille pushed with her shoulder. Nothing happened. She clicked the light onto her belt to free her hands then tried again.

  Still nothing.

  Surprise flowed through her when the alien knelt to add his weight to the object, although she doubted the force his slender frame could add.

  Another push and the object slid forward several inches, Light filtered in and she saw a refrigerator had been blocking their exit. A final push yielded more space, allowing her to squeeze by, followed closely by Gizeel.

  Buckets, brooms, and other assorted cleaning items filled the room. Together, she and Gizeel pushed the appliance back in place in case anyone was consumed by an urge to discover what lay beyond the hole in the wall.

  Keeping a hand on his arm, she approached the door, listening carefully. Satisfied, she didn’t hear footsteps or voices, she cracked it open to allow a peek outside. The service elevator sat directly across the hallway.

  She closed the door again, glancing around the room in search of something to put over Gizeel. Spotting a tarp folded neatly on a shelf, she shook it out then settled it over him. Beneath it, the alien fought to rid himself of the cover.

  Camille sent relaxing and comforting thoughts into his mind to settle him. Heaven forbid if they ran into anyone. But if so, she could pass his attire off as a child experimenting with Halloween costumes. When he stilled, she put an arm around his shoulder and they exited the room.

  She located the key on the ring Ryder had given her and inserted it into the operating panel of the service elevator.

  She licked her lips, tasting the residual hops and barley from the drink Ryder consumed. She wondered what would happen once they were alone. It was clear he wasn’t finished with her.

  A brief ride later, the doors opened onto a white and gray marble floor leading to a spacious foyer. She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t bold geometric throw rugs or torchiere floor lamps.

  Camille led Gizeel off the elevator, the whisper of the doors the only sound resonating in the silence. Remembering her dirty shoes, she slipped them off. Gizeel didn’t have on any, but no doubt the soles of his feet were filthy. She’d just have to clean up after him.

  “Well, Gizeel. Guess we’ll make ourselves at home.”

  She walked beyond the foyer into a living and dining area. A dark wood table for six dominated one end of the room and an L-shaped black leather sofa the other. Floor to ceiling windows allowed unblocked views of a starry sky.

  Exactly how did an employee with the CPD afford a penthouse with a skyline view of downtown Chicago?

  ****

  Ryder waited until he was satisfied Cam and Gizeel were out of sight before replacing the section of the wall, he’d disturbed. Releasing the tight rein he held on his demon, he allowed his body to transform.

  The guards had taken care of the rogues that had followed him so he ran for the entrance gate to help secure it. If the rogues made it out…

  He understood their frustration. They felt demons should have a choice of where they desired to live if the government wanted to use their abilities. Made sense. But with the rationality of rogue demons’ compromised by their evil desires, no government would entertain their request.

  He spotted Parker lurking behind a group of rogues fighting with border guards. His presence in the area spiked Ryder’s kill lust.

  Resignation in his eyes, Parker’s shoulders drooped as he watched Ryder’s approach. “It’s for our cause. You’re kidding yourself. You all are. The Government isn’t going to give you a choice.”

  Before the rogue uttered another word, Ryder punched him between the eyes, knocking him to the ground. “I hear Shenquartz calling your name.”

  Flat on his back, Parker groaned, but didn’t move. Ryder hauled him to his feet by the scruff of his neck.

  A rogue growled behind him. “Where do you think you’re going half-breed?”

  Ryder growled. “I’m taking him to Shenquartz. Wanna join him?”

  With his hands up in surrender, the rogue backed away.

  Shifting into his human form, Ryder approached the border gate with Parker in tow. The guard sat, a laser balanced on his knees.

  “I need to leave.”

  Surprise crossed the young man’s face. “I can’t open the gate, Ryder. You know the rules.”

  “Break them.” He grabbed Parker’s horns and jerked, pulling the demon’s face upwards so the guard could see it. “He wants a one-way transfer to Shenquartz and he’s sorta eager to leave tonight.”

  The guard nodded, quietly opening the gates to allow them to exit. Ryder waited until after the steel doors closed behind them,

  “Shift,” he ordered.

  Parker morphed into a man who appeared in his late twenties with sandy blond hair and green eyes.

  Ryder cuffed Parker’s hands behind his back. Next, he snapped a tiny receiver crafted of lapis lazuli onto one of Parker’s earlobes. Smaller than an earpiece, the device blocked a demon’s powers in the presence of humans.

  With a hand on Parker’s shoulder, Ryder guided him along the passageway. Instead of keeping straight which would take them into the building housing the Galactic Agency, Ryder took a right turn which eventually brought them into the basement of the headquarters of the CPD.

  An hour later, Ryder had arranged for Parker’s transportation to Shenquartz. He stopped by Deputy Chief Stevenson’s office to bring him up to speed. Breathing a sigh of relief at discovering the chief’s office empty, he scribbled a message regarding Gizeel’s whereabouts on a notepad.

  He couldn’t help peeking at Cam’s smiling photo in its silver frame as it rested on the desk. Lord, she was gorgeous. For the first time in his life, he wondered about a future with a woman. His parents made it
work, but that didn’t mean Cam would be interested.

  Ryder peeled his attention away and left his superior’s office, closing the door behind him. He wound his way through the maze of desks, chatting with fellow cops on their way home for the night no doubt to the women waiting for them.

  He swallowed a sudden rush of loneliness. He’d always known he was destined to be a loner. He was a man stuck in between two worlds, not a complete part of either. Why the sudden longing for a situation he could never have?

  Ryder hailed a cab from the precinct to his condo where he obtained his spare key from the doorman. Before heading upstairs, he checked inside the maintenance room to assure himself the dilapidated refrigerator stood sentry in front of the wall shielding tunnel access.

  When the elevator opened onto the penthouse, he kicked off his shoes and left them in the foyer. He forced the vision of his coming home from work to find Camille waiting on him from his mind. Get a grip, man. That may be her future, but Ryder wouldn’t be the man.

  Senses keened, he walked down the hall. He stopped at the first bedroom, spying Gizeel on the bed, curled in the fetal position. A light blanket covered him yet Ryder smelled the clean spring scent of soap. From the steady up and down movement of his chest, it was obvious he had succumbed to sleep.

  He continued into his own bedroom, hearing the stream of water from the shower as he entered. He shrugged off his jacket, leaving it on the back of a tan leather chair. Camille’s clothes were folded neatly on a corner of his mahogany dresser.

  He eased the bathroom door open. Camille faced the showerhead, diligently scrubbing every inch of her delectable body. Ryder froze, hypnotized by the sight of water and bubbles flowing over skin the color of toffee candy. He couldn’t believe his luck. Camille naked? In his bathroom? His cock hardened before the thought completely formed in his mind.

  His palms itched to touch her full breasts and feel her curvy bottom bounce against him as she rode him.

  She bent to wash her legs, revealing flashes of her sex. Her father is the deputy chief. Somehow the words didn’t seem to matter, especially when a white washcloth delved between her thighs.

  Feeling a sharp point on the palms of his hands, he looked down. His claws extended and he hadn’t even been aware. He eased away from the door and closed it behind him.

  Heaving in deep gulps of air, he struggled to put his attraction to the sexy siren into perspective. He hadn’t had a female – human or otherwise – in a while. His body was clearly deprived. Even so, he couldn’t take her to bed. No matter how much he wanted her, she was off limits.

  When he had harnessed sufficient control, Ryder returned to the bathroom.

  Camille swayed as she sang a lusty, off-key version of Wilson Pickett’s “Mustang Sally”. Before he realized what he was doing, he’d shucked his t-shirt and jeans, but left his boxer briefs on. He’d wash her hair, nothing more. He was doing her a favor.

  His approach to the shower stall was soundless, but not the whoosh of the door as it slid open.

  “Oh!” Cam gripped the towel bar. “What…”

  His body exposed to her view, he invited her indulgence. Her eyes lingered on the elaborate tattoo covering his right shoulder and pec before drifting lower.

  Her wide-eyed observance of him and the small tip of her tongue as she wet her lips was his undoing. Though he wasn’t completely nude, there was no disguising the effect she had on him.

  Silently, he stepped behind her. After removing the elastic band securing her ponytail, he picked up a bottle and squirted shampoo in his palm. The words he wanted to let out were ones that shouldn’t be uttered and the ones he could say wouldn’t help.

  He sank his hands into her hair, allowing the mahogany strands to float over his fingers. He massaged her scalp, letting his touch tell her what he couldn’t. He rinsed her hair then poured another dollop of shampoo into his palm. He sank his hands into her hair, building a slow lather.

  Her body relaxed, leaning against his. “Mmm. That feels good.”

  He gritted his teeth, concentrating on the task at hand.

  “My stylist doesn’t do as great a job as you.” She reached a hand behind her to grip the front of his right quad. “Take the briefs off,” she whispered in a husky voice

  He rinsed her hair, certain he had dreamed the words.

  “Take them off, Ryder.”

  No, there they were again. The words he longed to hear. Every part of him wanted to do what she commanded.

  She’s the deputy chief’s daughter. Her father had helped him many times in so many ways. He couldn’t repay kindness by helping himself to the man’s flesh and blood. Easing away from the overpowering temptation she represented, he backed out of the stall. He’d shower in the guest bathroom.

  Mouth open and with a look of utter disbelief on her face, she watched him like a hawk surprised at the prospect of its meal running away.

  She’s the deputy chief’s daughter. Ryder left the bathroom as if the devil himself dogged his heels.

  Chapter Six

  What the hell happened? Camille turned off the water. Why would Ryder leave after performing such an intimate act? She hadn’t even protested Ryder’s use of an all-in-one shampoo.

  She stepped onto a fluffy white bathmat then picked up the softest bath towel she’d ever felt. He just walked away as if she hadn’t offered herself up like a freaking buffet. Men! She’d never understand them. She froze in the act of drying off. Was he seeing someone? Could be possible, but she hadn’t spotted any evidence of a female in his bedroom or any other room. With a man like Ryder, a girl would want others to be aware he was taken.

  But what other reason could there be? If the rise of his briefs was any indication, he found her more than attractive. If he had someone, fine. But if he was in the free and clear...

  Camille hung the white towel on the bar before padding into his bedroom. Part of her hoped he’d be sprawled across the king-size bed waiting on her, but no such luck. The bed itself was nearly larger than her entire bedroom. Along with a bed, the room had space for a dresser, night stands covered with a stack of news magazines and a separate sitting area which included a tan leather loveseat and chair and an entertainment center.

  She rustled in his closet for a shirt. She slid on the white cotton which came to her knees. She buttoned it up, longing for clean underwear as well, but at least her body was free of sweat and grime.

  After leaving the bedroom, she checked on Gizeel first, glad to find he remained deep in slumber. She didn’t shut the door completely, but opted to leave it cracked a few inches so she’d hear if he awakened.

  In the kitchen, Ryder guzzled a glass of water as he stood in front of the granite covered island. She observed the play of muscles beneath the expanse of his golden skin. Damn, the man was built. Well-worn jeans sculpted his firm backside like an old friend. A thin line of black rose above the waistband of the denim.

  “What happened? How’d you get out?” she asked.

  He turned around, lowering the glass as he studied her. Her breasts grew heavy the longer he zeroed in on the area between her thighs.

  Clearing his throat, he lifted his gaze to hers. “Where are your jeans?”

  “They were dirty so unless you have clothes that are seriously too little for you, this is it.” She batted her lashes. “Do you keep clothes for female guests?”

  He didn’t answer as he rubbed the back of his neck. He turned his back to her, not completely, but now she could only see his profile.

  “Look, I’m sure you’re quite the man about town.” She rolled the sleeves of the shirt above her wrists. “I was only kidding.”

  “You’re not wearing panties.” He growled the words.

  “X-ray vision too? You’re like Superman.” She laughed. “Hey, if you remove your boxer briefs, we’d be a matching pair.”

  He didn’t respond to her teasing as he opened the stainless steel refrigerator. “Hungry?

  “Ravenous.”
The black sender cord hanging around his neck caught her attention. A silver and gold oval-shaped object swung from the end.

  She joined him, lifting onto her tiptoes for a better look at the medallion. “Where’d you get that?”

  He stiffened, but didn’t move. “A friend.”

  She allowed her nails to gently scrape against his skin as she lifted the object and peered closer. A silver replica of the sun and planets were bordered by gold. She turned it over. The reverse displayed the Milky Way galaxy.

  “Intricate.” Camille allowed the object to slip from her hands, watching with fascination as it landed between the tight planes of his pectoral muscles. Fighting the urge to smooth her palms over his skin, she knew it would be best to keep the conversation on safe topics – especially since she had yet to discover if he were involved with someone.

  She cleared her throat. “Now that the niceties are over, let’s talk. How do you live in a building that’s an access point for Demopolis and you own this place on a cop’s salary?”

  “I own the building on a cop’s salary.” He nodded in the direction where Gizeel slept. “Any idea how long will he be out?”

  “No way of telling.” She responded as his previous comment sunk into her aroused brain cells. “How do you own the building?”

  “I inherited it.” He frowned as he stared at the fridge’s contents. “Guess we won’t know more until we study him.”

  Realization dawned on her. “The Government has known the entire time, hasn’t it? That’s how you knew his name,” she accused.

  He retrieved steaks and fixing for a salad then closed the fridge. “I can’t let you take him, Camille.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Let me?”

  “The Galactic Agency has never dealt with something like this before.”

  “Oh...and I suppose the Government has?”

  He switched on the indoor grill. “No.”

  “My point exactly. The Government wants – ”