by A. C. Arthur
“Now, that is crazy,” she mumbled, getting off the bed and staring at the clock on her nightstand. It was almost noon. She’d slept in, something she never usually did. Then again, she’d never screamed in pleasure from a long hard dick, either.
What the hell was going on with her? Everything she knew about herself had been changing lately.
The window was open, just a crack, not as wide as it was in her dream. Still, it freaked her out, so she padded bare feet across the floor to close it. Then she yawned and stretched, waiting until she heard at least one bone crack in relief as she did. Next it was a shower; then she had some research to do. She wanted to run the descriptions of those men she’d seen last night through the police database, see if anything came up.
They looked deadly, hungry for something, and almost criminal, although there was no real way to look at someone and say offhand that he was a criminal. She’d had that proven when she’d arrested a pastor of a local church for selling ecstasy. Looks could definitely be deceiving, but Kalina was betting those three were up to no good.
Speaking of which—what the hell had happened to Rome last night? She moved into the bathroom, thinking. One minute he’d been in her apartment acting all John Shaft, searching like he was the one with a badge and gun and not her. Of course he had no idea she was a cop but she doubted that his actions would have changed if he had known. Roman Reynolds was definitely a take-charge kind of guy. His very presence commanded attention, allegiance, fear in anyone who ever thought of deceiving him. He was, in her mind, everything a drug lord would be.
After she’d found those freaking pictures, she’d rushed outside to see if Rome’s instincts had found something. Or if those three goons had followed her and he was macho enough to think he could take them on himself.
Gun in hand, she’d come out of her building last night and heard the horrific sounds.
Armed and ready to fight whatever had Rome running from her apartment, Kalina had been stopped cold on the front steps by what she could only describe as a series of roaring and chuffing sounds in the still night air.
Immediately she’d reverted to that night in her dreams. The one where the big-ass cat with the eerie eyes had roared over the body of a dead man.
Impossible. That’s what it was and she knew it. They were in Washington, DC, not a jungle. There were no big cats roaming the streets killing bad guys. Yet her frozen feet didn’t dare take her down those steps. While her mind warred over what was real and what was not, she didn’t move. Going out farther into the night to investigate had not been a possibility.
In fact, when she swore she heard the sound again she’d run back into the building, not stopping until she was locked safely in her apartment and huddling in her bed. It had taken hours for her to finally drift asleep—and when she did, she dreamed.
Surprisingly not of the cat, but of a man.
Warm water sluiced over her skin and she hummed with the decadent feeling of relaxing muscles. She was tense, sexually frustrated, and driving herself crazy with thoughts of big cats and drug lords. She needed a vacation, she thought, picking up her sponge and lathering it with bottled vanilla-scented soap.
She’d just turned off the water and stepped out of the shower when she heard something. It sounded like a door closing. Her front door.
Instinct kicked in. Even though she was in the bathroom with nothing but a robe she could throw on and no firearm, her mind was already coming up with self-defense ideas. There were scissors in the drawer of the vanity. Kalina pulled it open and clasped them in her hand. Reaching for her robe on the back of the door she hurriedly pushed her arms into the sleeves and belted it at her waist. She was reaching for the doorknob when she heard another thump. Whoever was bold enough to break into her apartment early on a Saturday afternoon had better be bold enough to face her. She needed to get into the living room, or her bedroom, because she had a gun in both spots. But for now, the scissors would have to do.
Kalina had been attempting to pull the door open slowly when it was suddenly pushed in. She stumbled backward but quickly righted herself, raising her arm with the scissors in hand ready to strike.
The movement was like a blur of black it was so fast. She didn’t see a face or register if it was man or woman; her wrist was caught in the tight grip of a hand as she was pushed up against the wall with a sickening thump that knocked most of the wind out of her.
She blinked, trying to inhale and exhale, her fingers still curled tightly around the handle of the scissors.
“What? Roman?” she said when she looked up into his dark eyes and furrowed brow.
He sighed, loosened his grip, then reached for the scissors. “Hello, Kalina.”
She yanked her arm back, keeping the scissors in hand. “Hello? Is that all you have to say after you bust through my bathroom door and manhandle me?”
“I didn’t manhandle you,” he said in a tone that astonished her.
He was talking as casually as if it were okay to be here right now. As if she’d invited him in.
“How did you get into my apartment?”
“I opened the door and came in.”
“With what key?”
“Why don’t you have a security system? A young woman living alone should protect herself better. You need an alarm system. Or a more secure building.”
He was walking out of the bathroom now, having the audacity to look pissed off. Well, pissed off and exceptionally handsome in his jeans and fitted black T-shirt. As angry as she was becoming at his intrusion, she hadn’t missed the chance to check him out one more time. The air sizzled with sexual dominance; when she gulped and swallowed, Kalina could taste it.
Rome exuded it. Just being in this room pressed up against his body for those brief moments had her center pulsating, her nipples hard.
Her wet feet slapped against the hardwood floors as she followed him out into the living room where he was toying with the door. “What are you doing?”
“This is a cheap-ass lock. I barely fiddled with it and it opened. You do realize you could be killed in your sleep for all the protection this provides?”
“I could also walk out the door and be gunned down or get on the subway and sit right next to a suicide bomber. Whatever is meant to happen will happen,” she snapped.
His head jerked and he looked at her, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “You will protect yourself. That’s not negotiable.”
“And just who the hell do you think you are?” The macho I’m-king-of-the-forest thing was way over the top, even for an arrogant rich lawyer such as Rome. “I could call the cops on you for breaking and entering.”
He stood and pushed the door until it clicked shut, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half smile. “Now, that would be ironic since I could make the same claim against you.”
Oh yeah, she’d almost forgotten about that.
“What are you doing here, Rome?” she asked, deciding it was best to stay away from threatening him with the authorities—even if she was the authority here.
“I came to check on you.”
“Do you check on all your employees like this over the weekend? Besides, I don’t need to be checked on.”
“All my employees don’t incite the attention of unsavory characters at a party.”
“You don’t know that,” she snipped and folded her arms over her chest. His gaze was roaming over her, touching the tips of her hair, coaxing a heated path down to her still-wet toes.
“Get dressed. I want to show you something.”
She stared at him.
“You’re not moving,” he said, tightly pulling his cell phone from the holster on his hip.
“You didn’t say ‘Simon Says.’” This back-and-forth was interesting, probably proving that she was as stubborn as he was. She wondered if that surprised him. If he’d thought it would be simple to break into her apartment and order her around, after he’d made her come. She couldn’t leave that part out.
�
�Kalina, I’m serious.”
“So am I. You cannot just come in here and order me around. You may rule the office with your brooding looks and serious tone, but this is my place. You’re on my territory now.”
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he said slowly. “I’m just trying to protect you.”
“Why?” she questioned. “Why are you so hell-bent on being in my life? I didn’t ask for your protection and I probably don’t even need it. But you’re still here. You’re always here.” She said the last quietly because it was true. Even when he wasn’t physically in her presence, he was still there, inside.
She hated that realization, felt it gave her a weakness, one she didn’t want to claim.
“I don’t know,” he answered, and she felt the honesty of that response ripple right through her. “I’ve always felt the need to protect. It’s just a part of who I am.”
Staring at him, she wondered, “And who exactly are you?” The question sounded strange but she really wanted an answer. “I know you’re a successful attorney and that you’ve very active on the social scene around town. But I’m curious as to the real Roman Reynolds, the man behind the facade.”
He rubbed a hand over his chin. “Don’t believe everything you read,” he replied.
“Then why don’t you tell me. Tell me about you, about who you are and what you want.”
“I want you,” he said instantly. “I want you safe and I want to be inside you. I can’t stop thinking of you, of touching you, tasting you. I want you.” He took a step closer. “How does it feel to hear me say that, Kalina? How does your body react to those words?”
It felt different, that was for damn sure. She’d been attracted to him in his office and again in the confines of the truck last night. But right here, standing in the middle of her living room, with her naked body air-drying beneath the thin material of her robe and his words rippling through the air, the feelings spiraling through her were different. It was definitely sexual, these new sensations, there was no doubt about that.
Her nipples had started to ache as they scraped against the silk material. Her skin felt sensitive, as if every particle of air touching her was bringing something alive inside.
“I’m not intimidated by your candor, if that’s what you were aiming for,” she said with only about half of that statement being true. “You’re on my territory now, Rome.”
“And what are the rules when I’m on your territory?” He folded one arm over his muscled chest, lifting the other to tap his cell phone on his chin. His legs were slightly spread and her gaze couldn’t help but fall on the bulge between them.
He was aroused, highly. And apparently he wasn’t ashamed. Hell, with the heated look he was giving her at this moment she half expected him to pull his dick out for her again. Her mouth watered at the thought.
“Rule number one, don’t tell me what to do. You can ask and wait for my answer,” she said in a voice that sounded strong, confident. Two things she’d always assumed she was.
“And?”
She swallowed because his biceps jumped as he spoke. His medium-size lips and chiseled jawline gave him the brooding look, she surmised. His skin was tones darker than hers, like a glass of root beer. His body was prime, excellent from what she could see. She wanted him, she thought with a start. Badly.
Holy hell she was in big trouble.
* * *
Rome wanted to fuck her right here, right now.
He knew she was naked beneath that robe, knew her body was still wet from the shower, her pussy wet from arousal. With every inhale he picked up the scent of her lust and wanted to bury himself deeper inside her by the minute. He had questions and yet couldn’t focus on anything but the attraction between them.
“What were you doing in the shower?”
“What?” She cocked her head at him, her eyes narrowing as she stared quizzically. “What are you talking about?”
“While you were in the shower.” He talked slowly, putting his cell phone back into its holster and taking a step toward her. “What did you do?”
She blinked, let her arms fall to her sides, and said, “I bathed. Isn’t that what people normally do in the shower?”
“Did you touch yourself? Did you make yourself come?”
For a split second she looked as if she were about to admit truth in what he’d said. Then her lips thinned and fury flashed in her golden eyes. “Just who the hell do you think you are? This is beyond inappropriate. Everything you say to me is either offensive or downright crude. Since you found your way in you can just as easily find your way out!”
She turned away from him, preparing to stalk into her bedroom, he presumed. Big mistake.
Rome was on her in seconds, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her ass flush against his rigid arousal. Blood pumped fast and hot through his veins, thumping loudly in his ears.
“You came. Last night,” he murmured, his lips right against her ear. He inhaled deeply. “And this morning. Don’t try lying to me. Your scent’s thick and heavy, lurking all over this apartment. It’s driving me crazy.”
An elbow slammed into his ribs as she tried to duck out of his grasp. “That’s because you are crazy!”
Her struggle was futile. Rome wasn’t letting her go. “You didn’t come last night?” he asked, his hand flattening on her stomach, slipping slowly between the flap of her robe.
“I was drunk. Too much champagne.”
He growled. “Liar. You were aroused. Just as you are now.”
“You’re a jerk!”
“You’re addictive.”
Rome licked her neck, let his fingers drift farther until he touched the moist heat of her mound.
Her breathing was ragged. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Nipping at the soft skin at the nape of her neck, Rome closed his eyes to the sensations washing over him, the need, the hunger. It was bigger than anything he’d ever felt, consuming him with every second he was near her. His dick ached to be inside her, to claim her.
No!
No. Rome did not claim any female. He did not believe in the joining—the Elders’ philosophy of one true mate for every shifter. The desperate need and undying hunger they predicted when that mate was finally found were myths, something they’d made up to romanticize the dark sexual hunger of the shifter species.
Rome had that hunger. He had that darkness within him. It was living and breathing, coursing just beneath the surface every day of his life. His sexual cravings were tame compared with the majority of other shifters in the tribes. Still, they were darker than most humans were accustomed to. He felt that darkness swirling through him now, threatening to overtake him, to pour out onto this woman.
She moved slightly and his fingers slipped between her velvety folds.
“I don’t know why this is happening,” he admitted through clenched teeth. “It just won’t stop.”
He brushed over the tightened nub of her clit and she moaned, relaxing in his arms. Applying the slightest pressure, he toyed with the nub, loving the tiny sound of her muted cries in the otherwise silent room.
“I can’t stop touching you. Wanting you.”
“I don’t want this,” she whispered but parted her thighs ever so slightly in contradiction.
“You can’t help but want it. Neither of us can.”
“No.”
“It’s not going away.” It wasn’t, it was getting stronger.
Tracing his finger along the slickness of her vagina, he found her entrance, pressed one finger hungrily inside. She bucked, her head falling back onto his shoulder. Rome kissed the line of her neck, nipped her skin, pushed another finger inside her and moaned.
“I want you. Right here. Right now,” he growled, pressing his thick arousal into the crease of her bottom.
“No,” she sighed, her heart beating wildly. “No.”
Her words drowned in the sound of someone knocking at her door and Rome cursed. She pulled away from hi
m then, glaring at him as she pulled her robe closed tighter.
“I’m saying no, Rome. And I want you to go. Now!”
“This is not over,” he whispered. “You can’t just will it to go away. I know, I’ve tried.”
“It is over! Despite what you’ve convinced yourself of I don’t want you touching me that way. It’s inappropriate. I want to keep my job.”
Rome rubbed a hand down his face. “Your job’s not in jeopardy. But your life may be.” The minute the words were out he regretted them. He hadn’t wanted to scare her. Fear would most likely lead to carelessness, and he couldn’t afford for her to be careless about her safety right now.
“What? Are you threatening me because I won’t sleep with you?”
He grit his teeth so hard his jaw almost cracked. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.” Rome took a deep breath, cursed again at the persistent knock at the door.
“I have to get that.”
“Who is it?”
She’d already walked past him toward the door. “If I said my boyfriend would that make you leave any quicker?” she said over her shoulder.
“Not at all. He’d be the one leaving,” Rome spoke as his cell vibrated on his hip.
“You’re an arrogant—” The rest of her remark was lost as he read the text message.
Rome looked up to see she’d opened the door. An older woman was standing there, holding a cat in her arms.
The cat spotted Rome and hissed, baring its teeth, arching its back in defense.
Kalina gasped, jumping back away from the door.
“Calm down, kitty,” the old woman crooned. “Kalina, she’s not going to bother you. I tell you that all the time. You’re probably scaring her.”
But Kalina wasn’t listening. She was already moving deeper into the apartment, putting the couch between her, the door, and the woman with the cat.
“Mrs. Gilbert. Ah, what can I do for you?”
“Kitty and I heard yelling,” the woman said, eyeing Rome suspiciously. “We wanted to come over and make sure you were all right.”