Kiss of Death (Supernatural Security Force Book 1)

by Heather Hildenbrand

His swaying increased a bit and so did the pressure. Apparently all of my hand movements had been taken as an invitation for more intimate touching. He pressed into me, mostly with his already-hardened groin.

  Ugh. Gross.

  His hands on my hips tightened and one of them slid down to cup my ass.

  I drew back, not even needing to fake the shock and outrage in my expression. “What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

  His thick brows drew together in confusion.

  Before he could answer, I shoved him away, playing up the dramatics so that others would hear us. Hopefully, the embarrassment I’d cause him would make him think twice about trying to call me ever again—which would be a good thing since the phone number he had wouldn’t work after tonight.

  “We’re just dancing,” he sputtered.

  “Last time I checked, dancing is more of a move-your-feet activity. Not your hands. Next time a girl agrees to a dance, keep your hands to yourself,” I said loudly.

  Then I spun on my heel, making sure to whip my hair in his face, and stalked off. The moment I was clear, I reached up and dropped the tech-chip into my bra for safekeeping. Without missing a beat, I headed for the nearest exit. Party of the year or not, it was time to get the hell out of here.

  The rest of my life was waiting.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I ducked through the nearest archway, fingers crossed that the passageway led to an exit. Considering the magic that had brought me into the party, I wasn’t sure if leaving was as simple as walking out the front door, but anywhere was better than the same room as the hellhound I’d just stolen from. Maybe if I got far enough from the noise, my earpiece would work to contact Rigo for a way out.

  The walls of the stone hall were bare aside from the sconces mounted at regular intervals. Even those only put out just enough light to navigate around the next bend. This part of the castle was obviously not meant for loitering. The message was clear: the party was in the main ballroom and everyone should stick to that space.

  Except that was now the one place I couldn’t go.

  But even here, the music still pulsed, and the smooth walls vibrated with the heavy drum beats. Underneath that, a current of energy—lust, if my fae senses were correct—wove its way through everything, growing stronger as I passed a narrow corridor wrapped in darkness.

  “Base, come in,” I said quietly as I walked.

  No answer.

  Either I was too deeply entrenched in magic here or Rigo had already given up on me.

  I squinted into the blackness that seemed to swallow the passage, but the light didn’t seem to penetrate beyond the opening. Strange. At least here, sconces and torches lit the way, but none of that light penetrated the smaller passageway.

  I paused, letting my senses investigate what lay on the other side of the heavy door at the far end. Two bodies pressed tightly enough together they might as well be one. And none of the noises coming from inside sounded like a call for help.

  Not an exit then.

  Apparently, the curtained beds inside the ballroom weren’t the only place for private partying.

  Doubling back to the main corridor, I passed two women walking in the opposite direction. One of them studied me, obviously trying to catch my eye. I kept my head down and pretended not to notice her. I could only handle so many problems at once, and I damn sure couldn’t afford for her to stop and chat with me. Her friend seemed less inclined to conversation, though, and they passed on without a word.

  After another few steps, my ears twitched with some tiny sound.

  My senses went on alert, and I paused to listen.

  Behind me, footsteps approached. Heavy, steady—purposeful from the sound of it. Not some wanderer. And whoever it was, they were headed this way.

  Shit.

  If Kristoff’s hound had scented more than an airhead with a sudden sense of self-worth, I was screwed—and not in the way he’d hoped for.

  “You forgot to leave your shoe.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath as a familiar face rounded the bend. Not Kristoff. The other guy I’d rejected tonight. The one who’d flirted with me when I’d first arrived. Despite the danger I was running from, butterflies danced in my belly at the sight of his bright blue eyes fixed so intently on mine.

  “My shoe?” I repeated, breathless at his closeness. He’d been handsome before, but now that I took the time to study him, he was traffic-stopping hot.

  He pointed to my feet. “If you’re going to pull a Cinderella and run out of the ball so early, you’re supposed to leave your shoe behind. It’ll make it easier to hunt you down later.”

  “And what if I don’t want to be hunted down?”

  He stepped closer, an easy smile on his tanned face. “Every girl wants to be hunted.”

  I shook my head. “Does that line actually work for you?”

  He shrugged. “You tell me.”

  When he leaned in again, I held up a hand to stop him. “Uh-uh. You’re cute, but it’s not that easy. And neither am I.”

  A smile played on his delicious mouth. “Yes, I think you made that point crystal clear for the entire dance floor. No one out there thinks you’re easy.”

  I bit my lip, cringing at the idea that so many might have seen my show with Kristoff. “The entire dance floor?” I repeated.

  “Relax. It took you off their radar, which I suspect is what you wanted in the first place.” He cocked his head, studying me. “Tell me, why does a girl who doesn’t want company come to a party like this one, anyway?”

  “I told you. Window shopping.”

  He laughed, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Funny, you don’t strike me as the type to look when you don’t plan to touch.”

  Heat crept up my throat and into my cheeks as I imagined touching him the way I’d touched Kristoff. Roaming hands, swaying bodies, torsos pressed tight—

  “You also had me pegged for the Cinderella type,” I shot back before the fantasy blurred right into reality. “Just goes to show you don’t know nearly as much about me as you think you do.”

  He leaned in close until I was backed against the wall. My shoulders hit the cold, smooth stone, and I was glad for the way it cooled the heat already building underneath my skin. It wasn’t fair how hot he could make me with just those eyes.

  Slowly, he reached up and placed a hand on either side of my head, trapping me. I had no doubt he’d back off if I told him to, but the words died on my tongue before I could say them. My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t seem to tear myself from his gaze.

  “You’re right. I don’t know you at all,” he said quietly. A predator sizing up its prey. “But I’d like to.”

  His lips brushed my jawline in a kiss that was clearly meant as an invitation. I shuddered, my skin tingling deliciously where his lips had grazed.

  How long had it been since I’d let someone touch me like this? Six months? Seven? Hell, if I didn’t get ahold of my own willpower, I was going to combust long before we even arrived at the main event.

  “Shouldn’t we start with introductions?” I murmured, leaning into his mouth where it was nuzzling at my ear. God, this guy was an animal. I wondered how that translated to his sexual prowess and another shudder shook my shoulders. I reached up and grabbed his shirt, a little embarrassed at myself for it.

  “I’m Jax McGuire. And you are?”

  Turned on. “Gem Hawkins.”

  The words were out before I could stop them. Shit. Not my real name. What in the hell was I thinking?

  Right. I wasn’t thinking. Not with my brain anyway.

  Jax pressed another kiss to my jawline, this one farther back, near my ear. “It’s nice to meet you, Gem Hawkins,” he whispered.

  His hands landed on my hips and then quickly swept upward. Fingertips grazed my breasts, and I let my head fall backward. “Oh, it’s nice… to meet…” I tried responding and then gave up, completely lost in the sensations of his hands on me. “So n
ice,” I panted.

  He laughed and the deep, rich sound of it sent warmth straight through my core.

  “Not fair,” I said as his mouth left a trail of kisses down my exposed throat. His hands touched and teased as they worked my breasts. Through the thin fabric of the dress, his thumb found my already-pointed nipples. When he flicked lightly, I moaned again.

  “This?” he asked innocently. “This isn’t fair?”

  “No, this is very… Okay, I’ll allow it,” I said, and he laughed again.

  “That,” I insisted, reaching out to run my own hands over his broad chest. Even through the fabric of his shirt, I could feel the hard lines of defined muscle. “That laugh,” I insisted. “It’s entirely too sexy. Cheating.”

  He raised his head so that we were eye to eye now. His lids were heavy, his blue eyes intense with desire. One of his hands wound around the small of my back, pulling me toward him until we were pressed tightly together in all the right places.

  “Shut me up then,” he growled.

  I lifted onto my toes, arching toward him.

  The moment I started to move, he closed the distance, and if not for his arm holding me up, I would have liquefied and melted into a puddle right there. His mouth was hot and urgent on mine. There was no hesitation, no soft request for permission. Only heat and need and a demand that I offer whatever he wanted from me.

  Any other man would have been swiftly ass-kicked for such a move. Z sure had. But right now, all I wanted was to surrender and let this sexy stranger take every single gift I had to offer.

  So much for no distractions.

  Lust curled inside me, aching and straining as I clung to him. One hand fisted in his shirt. The other wound around his neck, pulling him even closer as our mouths pushed and pulled at the other. His hand grazed my breast before dropping low to trace my thigh. His fingers trailed a line upward, dipping underneath the hem of my dress. I panted into his mouth, rocking my hips into his hand, nearly desperate with need.

  He pulled his hand back and eased his mouth from mine just enough to say, “Why don’t we take this party somewhere more private so we can get to know each other?”

  I blinked to clear the fog and make sense of his words.

  Angel balls.

  He meant one of those dark rooms I’d passed; the ones with all the noises coming from inside. “I…”

  Jax straightened, leaning away from me. His hand dropped into mine, tugging me along. “Come on. I know a place.”

  In the space he’d left between us, a gust of fresh air—and clarity—hit me. What the hell was I about to agree to? A quickie in a broom closet was one thing, but I was on an active mission.

  I looked up at Jax, still trying to lead me away.

  He was so damn sure of himself. A man who was used to getting what—and who—he wanted. And apparently, he’d decided he wanted me. My body ached to let him have me. But we weren’t even past first base and already I was losing control.

  Something I couldn’t afford to do. Not tonight anyway.

  “Jax.” I pulled away, almost positive I was going to regret this later.

  He turned back, his intense blue eyes nearly eating right through my resolve. “What’s up, gorgeous?”

  Definitely going to regret this later. “I think I need to take a rain check.”

  He didn’t falter an inch. If anything, his grin only grew wider, more knowing. He stepped close again and kissed my cheek, this time without all the pheromones he’d unleashed on me earlier.

  “Darling,” he said, “I expected nothing less.” Then he let go of my hand and backed away.

  My eyes narrowed. “Really? That’s it? You’re giving up?”

  He winked as he retreated backward. “Not even close. We’ll meet again, Gem Hawkins, and I won’t need a shoe to find you.”

  I watched as he turned and disappeared back the way he’d come, his hips literally swaying with swagger. For the second time tonight, I was speechless at the sight of his perfect ass.

  How had I just said no to that?

  I hated myself already.

  No, I hated Rigo. He definitely deserved another punch for what I’d just thrown away. It was time to find him and deliver.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alone once again, I made it far enough down the hallway that the noise of the music faded behind me. Hopefully that meant I was nearing an exit, although my senses told me I’d somehow managed to wander farther than the magic wanted. A musty smell hung in the air, and the lights seemed dimmer this way. It was looking more and more like I wasn’t getting out of here without Rigo’s help. Maybe that’s how he’d wanted it all along.

  “Hawkins to base, do you copy?”

  I wiggled my earpiece, hoping the interference from the speakers inside hadn’t totally fried the connection. The recruits always got hand-me-down gear, and the comms were straight up shit on the best days.

  “Recruit to base, do you copy?” I repeated when no answer came.

  I sighed and then reminded myself tonight was the last night I’d ever have to deal with shoddy equipment. Or Rigo for that matter. The SSF detective division provided their agents with only the best, most advanced gear, including comms and anything else required by the mission.

  My access to the answers I wanted had never felt so close.

  I took a right at the next intersection—a route that would take me farther away from the party—and kept walking, sticking to the outside of the hallway as it curved around. Was this entire passageway one big circle then? It was a fun design but not very practical when one didn’t want to be seen.

  There were no corners.

  “Base to Hawkins, I read you.” Rigo’s voice spilled into my ear unexpectedly enough to make my heart leap. It was the one and only time I was glad to hear Rigo’s nasally tone. “Do you have the package?”

  “I’m safe, thanks for asking,” I said with an eye roll.

  “Of course you are,” Rigo replied. “We wouldn’t have sent you in if we weren’t confident—”

  “My ass, Rigo,” I cut him off. “Why didn’t you tell me that asshole was a hellhound?” I hissed. “Is this your way of getting back at me?”

  When Rigo spoke again, his voice was tight. “Do you have the package or not?”

  “Yes, I have the—”

  The fist came out of nowhere and caught me square in the jaw.

  Lights exploded behind my eyes as pain lit up every inch of my face. I was thrown backward and spun until my shoulder slammed against the wall. I hit the cold concrete hard, grunting as my breath whooshed out. Pain radiated from my cheek all the way to the top of my scalp.

  I blinked and cast a quick glance at my attacker.

  Surprise—and then a fair amount of dread—washed over me as I recognized the man who’d hit me. It was the brick wall of a security guard I’d spotted earlier. Kristoff’s “plus one.”

  And his right hook was about to be followed up by his left.

  I ducked just in time to avoid a second blow but moving far enough out of his reach was a bit trickier thanks to my precarious heels. The man came at me again. Instead of dodging away, I smashed my fist into his nose. There was a small crack as I felt his flesh and bone give underneath my knuckles. The monster of a man stumbled back a step, shook his head as if to clear it, then came for me again.

  Shit.

  He was like one of those cartoons who saw birdies floating around their heads after they got hit. Those assholes always got right back up again. It wasn’t fair.

  I managed to block the next swing—thankfully his massive size meant he was a little slower than me—but the one after that landed. My shoulder seized up at the force of his fist, and I let out a small sound of pain.

  By the angel, this guy was a brickhouse.

  Before I could recover, his hand closed over my throat and squeezed. I struggled against him, gagging, but he had me pinned against the wall and no amount of scraping or hitting loosed him.

  That mag
ic Rigo had mentioned to me earlier—the spell work preventing violence—would be a nice surprise right about now…

  Or was it only death it prevented?

  I couldn’t remember, but the idea of spending the next few hours as this guy’s punching bag made death sound sort of appealing.

  Finally, I kicked out in desperation, and my pointed toe landed hard against his groin. He groaned and released me so that he could stumble away, holding his hands delicately over the injured area.

  The sudden imbalance sent me reeling. I managed to catch myself and turned away, ready to sprint for the doors—wherever they were—but another figure stood in my way, blocking my exit.

  “Lita, where are you going in such a hurry? Don’t you know it’s rude to run out on a date this way?” Kristoff’s eyes narrowed shrewdly as he studied me, the dim sconces on the wall reflecting off the light in his pupils. Like earlier, a tiny flame flickered in his irises.

  I didn’t answer, mostly because I was too caught up in trying to breathe again, and my throat hurt like it had just been set on fire and left to burn.

  In my earpiece, Rigo’s voice was frantic. I’d ignored it for most of the fight, but now he was nearly screaming, “Base to Hawkins. What the hell is going on? Report!”

  Kristoff strode forward, his creepy gaze locked on my chest as it rose and fell heavily. When he got close enough, he reached for my face. I forced myself not to flinch as I prepared for some kind of attack. Instead, he grabbed my comm unit and snatched it out of my ear.

  “I can see why you’re so distracted,” he said, my comm caught between his thumb and forefinger. “You came here to meet me, but you’ve already let another man get inside your head.” He dropped the earpiece to the floor and crushed it with the heel of his shoe.

  I pursed my lips, my expression carefully unaffected by the fact that he’d just exposed me. “I don’t think things are going to work out between us, Kristoff. You don’t trust me at all.”

  He let out a snarl and leaned in close. “You will return what you took from me, or I will take it from you by force.”