Grayson straightened a little more. “See what?”
He must’ve already had a good idea, but she snapped her gaze to his. The scene played out—so fresh—as though it’d happened this morning. “The gun in his hand. He just looked at us like we were stopping by for a visit instead of breaking down his door to arrest him.”
“What happened?” Tension ran up the curves of his neck as he stared down at her. He’d somehow stepped closer without her noticing, his chest nearly pressed against her shoulder.
“He shot me.” Nika pushed the collar of her tank top down her arm, exposing the dime-sized mound of scar tissue at the top of her arm. “Through and through. Guy didn’t so much as blink as Reynolds tackled him. We found his wife in the next room. She lived. He got thirty years, no parole, and I get to wear T-shirts and long sleeves the rest of my life.”
She tugged her shirt back into place, but froze as Grayson reached for the scar. Running the pad of his thumb over the white mound, he studied it for three full breaths. Her heart pounded in her throat as sensation washed down her arm and into her chest. Damn his touch.
He smiled down at her, but had yet to drop his hand from her arm. “You win.”
“I knew I would with that story.” She set the bottle on the counter. The game might’ve ended, but Nika wasn’t finished with him yet. Not when the wound in her shoulder was infecting her body every second she was alive. She raised one hand and slid her fingers through his thick, brown hair. So soft against his rough expression. He closed his eyes as the short strands glided into the spaces between her fingers. She trailed lower, behind his ear, her thumb covering the distance from his ear lobe to his chin. Tingling built in her lower abdominals with every centimeter she touched. His prickly, day-old facial hair sent a zing of pleasure straight to her core as she imagined what it’d feel like against other parts of her body. “Thank you for helping me track down Isabel. I know it’s not your problem or even your case, but—”
“You are my problem, Nika.” Voice low, it rumbled through her like a muted jackhammer. His gaze steadied on her and a tremor chased across her shoulder blades. “More than you know.”
Confusion tramped the tingle that simmered between her legs, but she refused to drop her hand from his jawline. “Then why don’t you enlighten me?”
“You’ve gotten under my skin, inside me.” He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip and her stomach flipped upside down. “I don’t know how else to explain it, but it’s wrong. I’m not supposed to have feelings for you.”
Wrong? The floor seemed to waver, but failed to distract her from the small pulses of desire mixing with her over-heated blood. Could’ve just been the vodka. They’d been through a lot already. He’d helped track down the demon that’d killed her sister, called on an Arch-angel to help with the infection, and given her a glimpse of how easy it’d be for her to fall for him. He understood her better than anyone else, brought her body alive for the first time in years, and had trusted her instincts since the moment they’d met. How could their connection be so wrong? She’d never experienced anything so right.
“I feel something for you too.” Her touch traveled from his jawline, down his neck, and across his forearms. His warm skin dented at her fingers’ insistence. She never took her eyes off his as she laced her fingers through his and tugged him against her, chest-to-chest. His exhale trailed across her collarbones as he stared down at her. Desire devoured his eyes. Her spine trembled as his warmth tunneled though her thin T-shirt. Hand still wrapped around hers, Nika slid his arms around her waist. So close, but not close enough. Not until he’d gotten underneath her skin just as she’d burrowed under his. She notched her chin higher and leveled her lips with his. Memories of their kiss in the bathroom lifted her onto her toes. Would he taste the same as she remembered? Or better? Frozen mere centimeters from getting nearly everything she needed from him, she dug her nails into his tense biceps. “Tell me you don’t want this as much as I do and I’ll stop.”
“Oh, God, please don’t stop,” he said over her mouth and crushed his lips against hers.
She wrapped both arms around his neck tighter than she’d ever held anyone before as a rush of fire dove down her throat and spread throughout her body. His hands fell from her hips, but locked onto the backs of her thighs as he lifted her against him. Her wound protested the hold she had around him, but she didn’t give a damn. Other things—desire, heat, passion, lust—overwhelmed her nerve endings with each slid of his mouth. Squeezing her thighs around his trim waist, she enjoyed the very evident bulge behind his zipper and pressed herself deeper into him.
He ripped his mouth from hers with a gasp and maneuvered toward her bed on the other side of the half wall. Driving her backward onto the mattress, he sank into her, his weight more comfortable than oppressive. Fisting her fingers in the collar of his dress shirt, she pulled him back where he belonged. Hot, electric vibrations sizzled throughout her system as she swept her tongue passed his roughened lips. Oh, God. How had she gone so long without kissing him again, without his skin against hers? Her body thirsted for his touch and far, far more. His mouth on her, him inside of her.
Her T-shirt scraped against her sensitive skin as Grayson rocked his hips into her, rocketing her desire higher than she imagined possible. The insides of her thighs tingled with each brush from his clothes and it took every ounce of discipline to control her need. The seam in his slacks drove her arousal wild as he thrust against her. A moan rumbled up her throat. Her lower abdominals clenched and intensified the slow burn developing between her legs. She arched her back to bring him closer, nipples straining to reach him from under her shirt. “Right there.”
Scraping his teeth down her collarbone, he covered her breast with his wide hand over her shirt. His tongue followed the “V” between her breasts and he kissed the thin skin there. Tingles darted straight to her nipples, ready and puckered just for him. He teased her lower back with his other hand as his mouth covered her left breast through her T-shirt. Earth and wood filled her senses from head to toe, relaxing and tensing her body at the same time. Head clouded with him—his touch, his mouth, his scent—she surrendered the driving revenge that’d kept her going for the past two days. To him. Everything she was, everything piece of armor she owned, belonged to him in this moment. Maybe had since she set eyes on him in the bank.
He tore her sweatpants down her legs and threw them on the floor beside the bed. Her body reacted to him as though it’d been asleep for a thousand years, waking when he neared, when he held her, when he kissed her. She reveled in the feel of his weight on top of her, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close. She fisted her hands in his hair. “More. I need more.”
“Are you sure you can handle it?” His rough jawline grazed her inner thigh. Her entire body contracted as he stared up her stomach with those enthralling green eyes. Anticipation forced her heart rate higher. The playfulness in his gaze singed her to the bone, but, in the next second, arousal transformed the playfulness into something clouded and dark. “Because you’re going to have to beg me to stop once I have a taste of you.”
The sensual curve across his mouth forced her heart to beat faster. He meant every word. She swallowed hard. The inner walls between her thighs tensed at the idea of what he could do to her. And what she’d let him do. “I attacked an Arch-demon without a second thought. Does it look like I’m scared of you?”
Her panties dug into her flesh as he swept them down her legs. Gone. Just like her sweatpants. Exposed to the air conditioning—to him—she shivered. Goose bumps formed along her thighs. He centered his attention on her apex as he burrowed his hands beneath her in an attempt to hold her in place. Soft wisps of his exhale tickled her sensitive folds, and with one stroke of his tongue against her most delicate skin, he ripped a gasp from her throat. Lightning erupted behind her closed eyes and when she opened them, he stared up at her.
"Are you sure you want more?" he asked.
“Did I beg yo
u to stop?” No hesitation. No more waiting.
He kept his gaze on her then swirled his tongue over her, circling, nibbling, pulling. The slow burn he’d stoked before spread throughout the lower half of her body and shook her legs. Both fire and ice flooded her body, one cell at a time. He dipped into her. His mouth covered her completely and she dug her heels into his back. She gripped the sheets as hard as she could. Her orgasm built too soon and too fast. She didn’t want this to end, didn’t want him to leave. Distraction. His green eyes still locked onto her, his hands gripping onto her bottom. Her entire world consisted of him tearing her body apart from the inside. There was no doubt. He’d gotten under her skin too. “Yes. Yes. Please.”
“Come for me, Nika.” He dug his fingertips into the flesh of her ass. The impending explosion forced her to hold her breath, but only sent her over the edge sooner. Her body shook as wave after wave of electricity flooded over her. She vaulted her upper half off the bed and tugged her T-shirt over her head. Her nipples puckered even further, reached for him, and he didn’t make her wait. His mouth latched onto one nipple, using the same choreography as he had between her legs, and resurrected a rush of desire that’d leaked from her body with her orgasm. Her nerves were on fire. Her head fell back onto her shoulders, but the ceiling had become streaks of white and shadow. No definition in her orgasm-induced coma. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
He tore his mouth from her and balanced on his knees over her. “Christ, you’re so damn beautiful, it hurts.”
Her hands moved without recognizable commands as she gripped the collar of his dress shirt and pulled herself to her knees. With a clean jerk, she tore his shirt open from top to bottom. Buttons hit the floor with plastic echoes, but she wouldn’t feel bad for ruining his clothes. Confronted with tasty deep valleys and ridges across his torso, she used his shirt to bind his hands behind his back. Primal need took control as she pressed her breasts against his muscular upper body. His heartbeat pounded ferociously against her. She dragged the tips of her nipples across his pecs, winning a groan from somewhere deep inside him. Warmth revived her arousal all over again. How could he possibly excite her even more?
“You have to stop,” he said.
“Are you begging already?” Internal victory blossomed throughout her. She stared up at him as a smile pulled at her lips. “And here I thought the Bureau recruited stronger agents than that.”
“Someone’s coming.” He shoved away from her.
Reality cleared the haze of arousal and satisfaction from her head. She blinked to dislodge the urge to laugh. How could he possible know someone was here? Nobody had knocked on the door. “What?”
Grayson backed himself off the bed then tossed her T-shirt then her underwear and sweatpants at her. “Get dressed and find a gun. Hurry.”
He wasn’t kidding. The Grayson she’d drowned in moments ago hardened into the Special Agent she’d met back at the bank. Her instincts kicked her fight or flight response into gear. She dressed as fast as possible and recovered the 9mm from under her pillow. Mag full. One round in the chamber. She rounded the bed, gun gripped firmly in her hand. “Who is it?”
The air thickened and her stomach twisted into a knot. Something wasn’t right. The same sickening feeling she’d experienced when clutched between a demon’s talons infiltrated on the last few moments alone with him. It felt like...Isabel. Revenge fired up rage she’d momentarily forgotten about and rocketed her defenses into place. Her muscles tensed as he reached for one of the many weapons she’d hidden around the apartment and checked the magazine.
Grayson yelled over his shoulder. “Get down!”
The front door shattered into splintered wood.
The pony wall separating the kitchen from the living space failed to hide the two, full-grown demons that charged inside. Loud bursts of gunfire shocked her eardrums violently. Grayson. Nika dove to the base of the pony wall, her back against the solid makeshift cover, then shot up and around. More thunder. More bullets. Her vision spun, but not long enough she couldn’t steady her aim. She pulled the trigger. Four bullets wrenched each demon back, but neither of them went down. What the hell? Piercing screams echoed throughout the apartment, so loud, so shrill.
She covered her ears as best she could, eyes closed tight, but the high-pitched vibrations stoked the fire that raged in the center of her chest. When she reopened them, Grayson had disappeared. Panic consumed her fight instincts. Had they taken him? She maneuvered around the edge of the pony wall, gun at the ready, finger on the trigger, but froze.
With one expert swing of the kitchen knife in Grayson’s hand, a wing ripped from its owner and hit the floor. Silver blood sprayed over her kitchen table and linoleum as an earsplitting shriek threatened to rupture her eardrums. Grayson’s forward momentum propelled the knife into the space separating the demon’s eyes and cut the creature’s protests short.
He’d said he’d hunted demons, but he moved with almost military precision, sure and confident. No fear. No hesitation. Demons were strong. The wound around her shoulder attested to that, but that strength didn’t slow Grayson whatsoever. As though he were as strong as the creatures he hunted. Which wasn’t possible. Because he was human.
“Grayson, watch out!” She aimed her gun over his right shoulder and squeezed the trigger at the demon closing in on him from behind. A sharp left hook against his jaw spun him around to face her. He fell to one knee and shook his head, then collapsed forward. Another three rounds from her gun wrenched the beast back a few inches, but didn’t do a damn bit of good. She’d have to replace the mag soon. Or grab another gun. The demon catapulted itself onto the pony wall, talons digging into the soft drywall, and lunged right for her.
“Grayson!” Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t fight off a demon on her own. She wasn’t as strong as him. She readied for the collision, for the talons that would surely tear her apart.
Heat erupted from the center of her core. She jerked forward, her entire body taken over by something she didn’t recognize. She fought against the force raising her free hand up as the temperature in the apartment sky-rocketed. Power overwhelmed every cell in her body. Adrenaline fused right alongside the energy running through her veins and intensified her grip on the gun in her other hand. A wave of invisible energy erupted from her palm and the demon crashed into the refrigerator. The chrome finish dented under its weight. The same wave threw Grayson into the kitchen wall. Hard.
The controlling darkness evaporated from her veins and Nika’s hand fell to her side. Exhaustion dragged her down to the floor. White dust and debris rained across Grayson’s face and upper body as he stared up at the ceiling. The ache at the base of her skull travelled down the rest of her body. As though a boulder had planted itself on her chest, her lungs refused to work. What just happened?
He stood on unsteady legs. Alive. Thank God.
The demon that she’d knocked into the fridge leveraged its back against the chrome. Its feet slipped out from under it, too weak to stand, and without hesitation, Grayson slipped the blade from her butcher block across the monster’s throat. Her stomach churned. She was going to be sick. Silver blood pooled at her feet. Her breathing grew shallow as bodies disintegrated in front of her eyes.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Bounty hunters.” He tossed the blade into the kitchen sink. He hadn’t even looked at her yet. Why wouldn’t he look at her? “There’ll be more. Grab your bag.”
“I wasn’t talking about that.” She wrapped her arms around herself as though she’d splinter into a thousand pieces if she didn’t. Someone had been inside her head. Someone had controlled her movements and her thoughts for those brief seconds. “How the hell did I shove that thing into my fridge without even touching it?”
“The same way you threw an Arch-angel across your bathroom.” Finally connecting with her gaze, he crouched in front of her. She couldn’t read his expression, but maybe it was that she’d sprouted another presen
ce inside her head distracting her right now. “You’re not mortal, Nika.”
“What are you talking about? Of course I am. I’ve never had powers. I’ve never been able to do that!” She thrust her index finger toward the dented refrigerator. The bite in her shoulder protested the tighter she hugged herself. The bite. That had to be it. “Isabel must’ve done something to me. It’s her bite—”
“No. It’s you. It always has been,” he said. “Every power, good or evil, is tied to emotion. Yours is only coming out now. Because of Rachel.”
“What does this have to do with my sister? She’s dead!” She was mortal. She had to be. The monsters she’d seen as a child left her alone. Didn’t that mean something? Too much. Her throat constricted. So hard to breathe. Grief, anger, regret and so much more fought for release, but she couldn’t let them out. She’d never get herself together again. Not even with Grayson’s help.
“I don’t know.” He stood, towering over her. Death, pain, and revenge clouded his jade-green eyes, but didn’t intimidate her in the least. Extending his hand down to her, he offered to stay by her side with the hard set to his mouth. “Why don’t we find out?”
She unwound her arms and dropped the gun to the floor. The thunk of metal on wood hiked a jolt up her spine. Sliding one hand into his palm, she let him hoist her to her feet. She dropped his hand when she found balance. Those hands had been on her skin a minute ago, made her feel things she’d shoved deep inside herself. In the span of a few minutes, she’d completely forgotten about the reason they’d been thrust together. The same determination that turned his expression cold infused her with dread down into her bones. That lapse in judgment couldn’t happen again. Pieces of the detective she’d known and relied on to get her through the past two days took control. No matter how much she wanted to run her hands over the hard planes and valleys of his bare torso again, they had a killer to find. Everything else had to wait. “You’re going to need a new shirt first.”
His Seductive Target (Afterlife, #2) Page 11