Frostbite (Last Call #5)

Copyright
Information

Frostbite
Copyright © 2012 Moira Rogers
http://www.moirarogers.com
Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of
the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is
purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion
thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher except for
the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Table of Contents

Copyright Information

Frostbite

The Last Call Series

About the Author

Frostbite

Looking for a partner immune to supernatural
seduction.

Last Call wasn’t her usual scene.

Kelsey snagged a menu from the end of the
bar and thumbed the edge as she scanned the offerings. She was used
to clubs, all right—the carefully orchestrated dance of the horny,
the line between need and desperation growing thinner with each
passing drink. But she wasn’t used to places humans couldn’t even
enter, places where five grand got you a drink and a room key.

Both very, very special.

She trailed one manicured nail past the
initial categories—werewolves, vampires, fae. The usual, she
imagined, for a place like Last Call. On the back, at the bottom of
the page, printed in smaller letters than the rest, was one last
heading.

Other.

She smiled and drained her whiskey. Amusing,
if not flattering, that she was an anomaly so rare there wasn’t
even a category to include her, just a catchall section at the
bottom of a menu, right beside the acknowledgment that parties of
six or more would be assessed an automatic gratuity of eighteen
percent.

Frostbite: Looking for a partner immune to
supernatural seduction.

Kelsey lingered over the
words, licking her lips. It shouldn’t be so damn
hard
to get laid without
having to talk, but even an anonymous bar hookup required a modicum
of conversation. If she spoke at all, her potential partner was
equally likely to follow her home, humping her leg like a dog, or
throw himself from a building to get her attention.

Both had happened before.

She leaned forward before she could stop
herself, sliding the menu toward the bartender with one upraised
eyebrow.

He followed her finger toward the line she’d
pointed to, then glanced up at her, assessment in his dark eyes.
“Siren?”

Kelsey tapped her temple and winked.

He smiled widely. “You know how it
works?”

She handed him her credit card and held her
breath as she glanced around the club. Half the patrons were
staring at the bartender—at her—and she suspected that even if no
one was looking for sex, curiosity demanded they watch what
happened next.

The bartender tucked her credit card under
the counter and handed her a slim key card before reaching up to
tap the side of his earpiece. “Last Call for the lady.
Frostbite.”

The music resumed with a thumping beat, and
Kelsey turned to watch the crowd as the bartender prepared her
drink. Some were checking menus, undoubtedly unfamiliar with the
drink’s coded meaning, but several men had already drawn free of
the crowd, perhaps wondering exactly what her brand of seductive
magic was.

And whether they could handle it.

The bartender set down her drink with a
murmur of encouragement. She picked it up only long enough to take
a sip—she hated cream mixed with her liquor on the best of days,
but she had to signal to the gathered revelers that she was ready
to go.

In every way.

A suited figure appeared at the bottom of
the steps, a stern, unsmiling man who watched her without
expression. He stood there, tall and severe, looking for all the
world like a stockbroker who’d accidentally wandered into the bar
on his way home from a meeting.

Kelsey wondered what
he
really
was,
under the twill and the frown.

Only one way to find out. She slid off her
stool and walked slowly down the steps before stopping on the last
one to study him. They were nearly eye-to-eye because of the height
difference and her heels, and this close, he looked even
harsher—

Unyielding.

She drew in a breath. It could work, at
least for a while...if she could get him upstairs. So she leaned
in, licked the corner of his mouth, and shifted her mouth to his
ear to administer her final test. A mere whisper. “Take me
here.”

“
No.” The man pulled back
and studied her in inscrutable silence as the crowd behind him
watched avidly. Then he held up a hand. “Proof enough?”

The denial alone weakened her knees, and her
cheeks heated as she offered him the card key for the room.
“Yes.”

He accepted the key and her blush with the
same calm acceptance, as if neither her capitulation nor her
arousal particularly surprised him. After pocketing the key, he
dropped a hand to the small of her back and coaxed her from the
steps. “Let’s go upstairs.”

She let him guide her toward the elevator,
and he’d already slid the card to call it by the time she found her
voice—and remembered she could use it. “I’m Kelsey.”

“
Kelsey.” He had a low,
smooth voice with the promise of rough edges. It matched the neatly
pressed suit wrapped around his hard body. “I’m Cain.”

Of course he was. A name as hard as the man
himself. “It’s nice to meet you, Cain.”

The elevator door slid open, revealing their
reflection in the polished back wall of the car. He stepped
forward, urging her along with that uncompromising hand at the
small of her back. “Do you come to Last Call often?”

“
Occasionally. My first
time upstairs, though.” The elevator doors whispered shut behind
them. “You?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and it was
the most detached smile she’d ever seen. “I’ve been upstairs
before.”

“
Mmm.” Damn, but she was
bad at small talk, probably because she never got the
chance.

She leaned against the mirrored wall as the
car began its ascent. Cain certainly seemed like the answer, a man
unmoved by anything, much less her voice. And even though that was
the point, it made her perversely determined to rattle him before
the night ended, to get under his skin in a way that didn’t include
magic.

He was hot. She was aching.

Five grand—and worth every penny.

The girl wasn’t used to men who could say
no, which made it easy to turn her on.

In four centuries, Cain had come across most
of the more common kinks. Humans were constantly convincing
themselves that each year brought new debaucheries, but no carnal
game was new. Especially not games of power.

Most
especially for those who weren’t quite human.

The elevator coasted to a stop, but Cain
didn’t step through the open doors. Instead, he caught Kelsey’s
arm. “You haven’t asked me what I am yet.”

She gazed down at his hand on her arm. Her
breathing quickened. “I don’t plan on asking.”

It was a recklessness that would have been
suicidal outside the four walls of Last Call. At least the bar had
spells layered into the walls and rooms that would protect her.
Unsettling, that her lack of concern irritated him. “You’re not
curious, or you don’t want to know?”