by Sylvia Day
God, he was gorgeous. Beautiful, really, although she’d never call him that to his face. He was too fiercely masculine to be even remotely pretty. And his body…so hard and strong. Defined by slabs of powerful muscle. She remembered how it felt to have all that power against her. Over her. Inside her…
The other vampresses in the room eyed him with equal avidness, lust burning along with distrust and lingering resentment. She wasn’t completely off her rocker for being sexually attracted to a lycan, but the quantity of female attention Elijah received was beginning to chafe. He wasn’t available for that kind of interest and she wanted everyone to know it. To respect it.
He paused by a table of vamps putting together travel packets of cash, debit cards, IDs, and cell phones. He thanked them for their hard work, offered to help, and smiled genuinely when it was refused with less hostility than had been displayed when he’d walked in.
The smile stayed in place as he headed toward her, but it took on a wicked, sexy edge that sizzled through her.
“Hey,” he said when he stopped beside her. He looked at the computer screen and shook his head. “You can’t put Luke and Thomas in the same group. They’ll fight. And Nicodemus has a thing for Bethany and so does Horatio. It’s best if you don’t put her in a group with either one of them.”
“Fuck it all.” She pushed back from the desk. Of course he knew such personal details. He took the time to know everyone. “I’ve been working on this for over an hour.”
“You got the vamps lined up straight? Then don’t worry about the rest. I’ll make the adjustments to the lycans.”
“By morning?” Studying him up close, she noted the exhaustion that rimmed his eyes and mouth. “You’re beat.”
“I could use sleep,” he agreed. “But it won’t take much.”
She stood and rocked back on her heels. What she really wanted to do was step forward into him. He smelled delicious. She knew he tasted that way, too. All over. Inside and out. “Can I talk to you a moment?”
She led the way to one of the offices. It was dark inside, as was most of the warehouse, to accommodate the sleeping lycans. Neither she nor Elijah required light to see, which was working to her benefit now. By keeping the lights off, he would be less likely to read anything on her face she didn’t want him to.
The door had barely shut behind them when she found herself in his arms, his lips cool and firm on hers. Caught at the waist and nape, she was held immobile against him. Claimed. She gasped in surprised pleasure, and the kiss swiftly heated. His tongue slid deep and slow into her mouth, thrusting in a steady unhurried rhythm that made her ache for more. Much more, damn it.
She slid one hand through his hair and the other up beneath his shirt. He arched and groaned at her touch, as responsive to her as she was to him.
“Thank you,” he whispered huskily against her parted lips.
Vash swallowed, trying to hang on to the wits that would enable her to tell him about their altered working relationship. The exquisite taste of him sidetracked her, scattering her reason.
He nuzzled his nose against hers. “I brought back some news that might make you happier about keeping me alive.”
She was too happy about that. Already she was dreading his getting on a separate plane from her tomorrow, one that would take him to the opposite side of the country from where she’d be. She was glad now that she hadn’t plugged either of their names into her outlined groups. He would have seen straightaway, and they might be arguing now instead of kissing. Elijah was a damned good kisser. He took his time with it, as he did with everything, savoring the act as if he didn’t care if anything more intimate followed it.
But she cared. Sixty years without sexual desire and suddenly being naked with Elijah was damn near all she thought about.
“I want you.” The words were out of Vash’s mouth before she realized she’d thought them. Mortified, her head fell forward to press her forehead into his shoulder. She just had to get through another six hours until they parted, a few of which he’d sleep through. “Forget I said that.”
“Why?” His hand at her waist dropped to the curve of her ass and molded her into the thick ridge of his erection.
Her entire body lit up like a live wire. He was hard and ready for her, and she craved him—one last time before she sent him on his way with Raze and got her head back in the game. “You need to take it easy and get some rest. Tomorrow, we hit the ground running.”
“So you do all the work. I’ll just kick back and come.”
She bit him in the pectoral with her fangs.
“Ow! Damn it.” He shoved her back. “Go easy on me. I’m in recovery.”
“Which is why you need sleep, not sex.” But god, he tasted good. She licked her lips, making sure she didn’t miss a drop.
His eyes glittered in the darkness. “You’ve revved me up. Now the sleep won’t come without the sex.”
“Cry me a river. Listen, I have something to tell you.”
He covered her mouth with his hand. “I called mine first.”
Vash growled. His grin flashed before he released her.
“Get on with it, then,” she snapped.
“Can’t.” There was nothing even remotely apologetic in his tone. He popped open the brass snaps holding her vest together and took possession of a heavy, tender breast. “All the blood has flowed into my other brain. Have to take care of that first.”
The sheer audacity of his statement stunned her silent for a moment. “What’s gotten into you?”
Whatever it was, she liked the effect it had on him. He was a serious guy by nature; this more relaxed version was hitting many of her hot buttons.
“I’m about to get laid by the hottest woman on the planet. That tends to cheer a guy up. Plus, I’ve got a present for you. It may not be quite as lifesaving as the one you brought me today, but hopefully it’ll turn out that way.”
Warmth twisted through her, along with shards of near-painful delight as he tugged on her nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “What is it?”
“I’ve got a lead on Charron’s killers.”
Her breath clogged behind a tight throat. “What…? How…?”
“Adrian.” Elijah pulled her closer. “I asked him what he knew. He’d heard the rumors about your mate and sent Jason to investigate. The lycans who admitted to being involved were interviewed. He doesn’t recall their names or what their story was, only that they didn’t relay the events the way you told them to me or he would’ve terminated them himself.”
“Sure he would have.”
“Vashti, he was never told Charron had been slaughtered in the manner you described. He knew only that your mate was dead and lycans were involved. If he’d heard differently, he would’ve had the matter looked into more closely. I believe that.”
“He wouldn’t give a shit.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“Whatever. I’ve known him a hell of a lot longer than you have.” She blew her hair off her face and pushed away. Refastening her vest, she began to pace. “I need names, El. I don’t care what those lycans said. I know what I saw and I know Char. He would never have done anything worthy of a death like that. He was a kind, gentle-hearted man.”
“The interviews were recorded on tape, then later transferred to disk and uploaded to a backup cloud.”
“Did he give you copies?”
“No. And he doesn’t have the password to access them.”
“Bullshit. He’s lying.”
He crossed his arms and looked straight into her eyes. “No, Vashti. He isn’t. Each outpost has a separate log-in to the cloud. It was a safety precaution that prevented a full-system breach at the outpost level. I know he’s right because Stephan broke into the system at Navajo Lake. There was no access to information about the other outposts.”
“So who has the password?”
“Jason and Armand. Unfortunately, Jason was at Navajo Lake and Armand was still at the Huntington outpo
st—where the interviews were taken—when the revolt happened. Both Sentinels are presently considered missing in action.”
She strode up to him and gripped his belt loops. “You can get the data.”
“If there’s anything left of the place, yes. But regardless, the names of those lycans are in the cloud. So even if Huntington is trashed, it won’t be the end of the road.”
Taking a deep breath, Vash struggled to get her emotions under control. If pressed, she wouldn’t have been able to identify them. Elation, maybe. Fear, certainly. More than a little confusion, as well. Where did one go when they reached the end of the road? And twining through the mess of her mind was her acute awareness of the man she held on to. She was working on something for Char while in a compromising position with another man and she didn’t feel guilty. She searched for the sense that she was doing something wrong…being disloyal…but she didn’t find it.
“I can’t tell you what this means to me, Elijah,” she said quietly.
His warm hands encircled her wrists. “Then show me.”
CHAPTER 12
Amused by his very male one-track mind, Vash scoped out the furnishings in the small room. “The choices are limited here, sex fiend: desktop or the floor. I’m lacking a penis, so I can’t nail you against the wall. And every chair in this room has arms, so straddling you is impossible.”
“Where’s your imagination?” Letting her go, Elijah tugged his shirt over his head. She was so focused on looking for any lingering injuries that she missed him toeing off his boots. Her hands were sliding over his torso, feeling for wounds she might have missed with her night vision when his jeans hit the floor.
The full force of his nudity hit her and she hissed, riveted by his blatant masculinity.
“Say it again,” he demanded.
She unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “Huh?”
“What you wanted me to forget you said.”
Her gaze lifted to his, found his eyes feverishly bright. She wanted those eyes on her, sliding over her with their heat and hunger. No one had ever looked at her quite that way, with a desire that was untamed and wild.
She shrugged out of her vest and tossed it aside. Balancing on one foot, she unzipped one boot, then followed up with the other. As she pushed her pants down her legs, he sank into a chair, settling back and watching avidly.
“Say it, Vashti.” The rumble lacing his words was almost a purr. It drifted over and around her like warm tendrils of smoke.
Straightening, she kicked her pants aside.
“I want you”—she deliberately paused— “to let me do all the work. You were torn up good today.”
“I’ll promise not to overly exert myself and we’ll call it square.”
“Not good enough.”
“Don’t trust me?”
“I could tie you up again, maybe. But you’d fuck us both to death for it.”
“You can’t top me, Vashti,” he said harshly. “That’s not what you need. Not what you want. Don’t ever try again.”
She approached him. Gripping the back of his chair, she lowered her lips to his brow and breathed him in, letting the scent of his skin slide through her. Soothing her.
He knew her, saw through her. She didn’t know how, but he did…
Whatever. It didn’t matter. This was the last time they’d have this; their association was coming to a close. Soon she’d be the Vashti she knew, the one everyone needed her to be. Once she had Charron’s killers beneath her boot heels, she’d honor her end of their bargain. They’d both have what they really wanted, which—contrary to the way things were going at that moment—wasn’t each other. “Tonight will be slow and easy.”
The fingertips of his right hand skimmed lightly along the outside of her thigh. The caress was barely there, yet it reverberated through her in waves of warmth and need. That he didn’t do more, didn’t take over, gave her the chance to wipe the slate clean between them.
I need that, too, she thought. Needed to leave him with a different memory than the one from Shred.
“Show me how to work around this damned chair,” she muttered, although just the thought of wriggling and squirming over his hard body made her wet.
“Stand back first. Lemme look at you.”
She straightened slowly. Stepping back, she thrust her hands through her hair and piled it on top of her head. Arching her back, Vash posed like a ’50s pinup.
He breathed roughly, his hands fisting around the ends of the armrests. “My god, Vashti…”
It was the note of awed pleasure in his voice that pierced her, slicing through her defenses to strike the tender places within. A shiver moved through her.
“You’re so damn gorgeous,” he growled. “Lush and curvy. Fucking perfect. And you’re so strong. Strong and tough.”
There was possession in the way he spoke. And she relished that, which confused her. She was a woman who took care of herself. Always had been. Char had known that about her and hadn’t been territorial. She had a job to do, one that outranked his, and he’d stayed to the side and let her do it, following her commands when she gave them to him. That’s what she needed from her mate, what she wanted…Support. Acceptance.
Yet Elijah’s dominant streak turned her on like crazy.
Turning slowly, she hid how shaken she was by presenting him with her back.
“Come closer. Back up to me,” he ordered, reminding her that he’d never stand to the side. He would always require her surrender, even as he praised and admired her strength and toughness.
His splayed hand caressed the length of her back, gentling her. “Bend over.”
Knowing how exposed she’d be in the position he wanted her in, she leaned forward slowly, widening the spread of her legs to better support her canted weight. His hands cupped the backs of her thighs in the crease just below the curve of her buttocks. His thumbs rubbed gently over the lips of her sex, parting her, opening her to his gaze.
“Mmm…you’re wet and soft already.”
She swallowed hard, then bit her lip to stifle a moan. His breath fanned hot and humid over her most sensitive flesh. Her hands went to her knees, adding support to keep her from toppling onto her face.
“I’ll make you wetter,” he promised darkly, the moment before he licked leisurely across her swollen cleft.
She gasped, the sound overly loud in the quiet room. It was exciting to be willing and ready for him. Bereft of control.
His tongue swiped over her again. The texture was rougher than before, like wet velvet, and the reach longer. She moaned in delight, wondering if he’d made that slight shift in form for her pleasure or his. Either was equally arousing. The last time they’d been together, he’d arranged her the way he wanted her and taken her. Taken what he needed, how he needed it, and expected her to find her pleasure in giving it to him. Which she had. She’d never come so hard or often, never experienced ecstasy so fierce and wild. No boundaries. No limits.
His groan vibrated against her. “Your taste drives me insane. I could eat you for hours. Days. Lick up every sweet, creamy drop of you.”
The next glide of his tongue teased her slick opening, rimming it in leisurely circles that had her straining toward him. He kept her in place with his easy grip, nudging her clitoris with the tip of his tongue and humming a soft chastisement.
“Elijah,” she complained.
“Elijah…what?”
Her teeth grit. “Elijah, please.”
“Please…what?”
She couldn’t stop the frustrated noise that escaped her. “Please don’t be an ass.”
“But I can’t rush,” he said smoothly, “or I might overly exert myself and break my promise.”
“Using your tongue?”
When she attempted to straighten, he kept her in place with a hand at the small of her back. “Is it so difficult, letting me take the lead?”
“Yes.” No. That was what chafed the most. Sure, he was an Alpha, but he wasn
’t her Alpha. And for her people, she was damn near the Alpha. What would they think if they could see her now?
“Even though doing so brings you pleasure?” he prodded.
Vash looked at him over her shoulder. He was looking right back at her, not at the slick hot flesh quivering for more of his attention. Prurient interest would have soothed her, oddly. His focus on her reactions and her emotions was far more intimate.
“I’m not one of the countless bitches sniffing around after you,” she snapped. “Subservience isn’t in my nature.”
“Good. Women without backbones make me twitchy.” He kissed her, right on the ass. “You’ve got a great rack, but even your spectacular tits wouldn’t be enough to keep me interested past the first screw. That must mean I’m in this for your charming tendency to bark orders and run everything around you…except for me, of course. Now, finish your damn sentence: Elijah, please do what? You want me to do whatever I want with you? Say so. You want to give me some direction, go for it. I’m open to suggestions.”
Her gaze moved to the floor. Damn it, she wanted to direct him and she wanted him to do whatever he wanted. She didn’t know which one she wanted more.
So she split it down the middle.
“Elijah.” She exhaled in a rush. “Please lick me until I come. Then do whatever the hell you want with me.”
“Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.”
If the hand at the small of her back hadn’t reached around to clasp the front of her thigh, Vash would have fallen over with his first deep lick. He used his mouth as only a creature who relied on it as much as he did his hands would. The stroking of his crushed-velvet tongue was rhythmic and precise; the tempo of his thrusts into her needy sex had her rocking back on her heels, trying to capture the perfect pressure that would push her into orgasm. She could see him between her legs, see how thick he was. How rigid and long. The heavily veined length so brutally beautiful. Just like the man himself. She wanted it…wanted him…
Christ. She wanted so fiercely, it hurt. Her breath soughed from her lungs; her nipples were hard and tight. Her stomach concaved with her helpless writhing, desperate whimpers escaping her as he massaged her clitoris with the roughened pad of his tongue.