Things That Go Hump In The Night (40 page)

To her surprise, he lowered his forehead to hers, brushing his lips over the tip of her nose. “Thank you.”

He kept eye contact as he pulled out of her, then thrust back in. She nearly cried in relief when he started to stroke her. The feel of his smooth length sliding inside her was so much hotter than she expected. Her fingers dug into his back, wanting him as deep as possible.

Pressure built, faster than she’d ever felt, and she knew she was going to come apart long before she was ready. Michael seemed to sense it, and drove into her. She bowed off the bed, her head falling back as she let out a wordless cry.

His mouth found her breast, and she convulsed around him. After tasting both breasts, he moved up, his lips, his tongue leaving a trail of heat that had her moaning, fighting not to climax. He worked his way up her throat, plunging into her, his breathing ragged and hot on her skin. She met every desperate thrust, hooked her leg over his hip to bring him deeper.

He groaned against her throat—and shocked a cry out of her when he pulled her up and into his lap. It buried him completely, and Kat clawed his back, seconds away from a world-rocking orgasm.

His good hand slid up, fingers tangling in her hair. She rode him, needing release. Now.

He sucked at her throat, the pressure and heat of his lips, his tongue pushing her to the edge. Her hands found their way to his thick hair, holding him in place as she stroked him. God, she was so close. So close—

The shock of his teeth piercing skin froze her.

He moved first, pulling out of her and shooting off the bed.

“Kat—I am so sorry—”

“What were you doing?” She touched her throat. Contact stung, and blood stained her fingers when she pulled them away. “What the hell were you—”

“Bonding ritual,” he whispered. She saw the flash of his teeth then, the elongated canines that weren’t there when they started. He turned his back, picked up his clothes and started dressing. “When a vampire—”

“I know what a damn bonding ritual is. What the hell made you think that you, that I—” She cut herself off. The blood bond. The mind-blowing sex, both of them so caught up, so absorbed in each other. She’d never felt like that before, and she hated that a monster was finally the one to reach in and touch her heart. “We’ll just forget it happened. Once the blood bond wears off, we’ll go our separate ways, and that will be it.”

“I agree. It will be best. Your camera is on the dresser. It seemed important to you.”

“Thank you.”

“I also found your—rather intriguing hairpin.” One dark eyebrow raised, like her carrying around a lock pick disguised as a girly hairpin amused him.

Hell, that pin saved her ass more than once.

“I never leave home without it.”

He closed his eyes briefly, and moved to the doorway. She thought he was going to leave without looking at her again. But he glanced over his shoulder, those clear, intense green eyes scanning every inch of her.

“Thank you for my life, Kat Riley. When you need the favor returned, phone me.” He pulled a card out of his pocket and left it on the table by the door. “I will not insinuate myself into your life unless you ask.”

He left, taking any warmth with him.

Kat pulled the sheet and blanket up to her shoulders, chilled and aching. She stared at the empty doorway for a long time, then at the card on the table. It wasn’t money, but damn, why did it make her feel just as ashamed?

3

Rule Number Seven: Don’t try to redeem a monster. It’s not in their DNA.

~ Kat Riley’s Rules For Hunting

Kat was still raw and hurting a week later, when she promised to make an appearance at her former partner’s house.

Ren Sheriden opened the front door, and studied her from head to toe. “You look like hell. Retirement obviously isn’t working for you.”

“Can I come in, or are you just going to insult me on your doorstep?”

He flashed a smile and  stepped aside.

Kat walked in, wishing again she had been attracted to her partner. Ren was smart, with a wicked sense of humor, and so good looking it left most women breathless. It would have been so easy—and she did love him, but like a brother. A partner.

She sprawled on the worn leather couch, watched him as he sat in the armchair next to her and leaned forward. “You going to tell me where you’ve been the last week?”

“I don’t have to. It’s the beauty of retirement.”

“Fine. How about who gave you the blood hickey.”

Her hand covered the scabbed-over bite mark before she could stop herself. She’d spent the last week trying to forget how it got there, and the man who gave it to her. Her body still woke her in the middle of the night, wanting him.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, staring at the wall. “He’s history.”

“Hey.” Ren cupped her chin, applied pressure until she gave up and looked at him. “It finally happened, didn’t it?”

She jerked free. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes, you do.” He followed her when she pushed off the couch and headed for the front door. This was a bad idea. She wasn’t ready to face anyone—never mind the only person who could read her like the cliché open book. “Kat.” He grabbed her arm, pinning her against the wall when she tried to jerk free. “Hey—calm down, talk to me.”

“I’m not ready—now let me go.”

“Not until you spill.”

“Damn it, Ren—” She kicked out at him. Unfortunately, he knew all her moves. “Please—”

To her horror, tears choked her voice. His warm hands closed over her shoulders.

“Okay, sweetheart. Let’s go sit down, and you can tell Uncle Ren all about it.”

“Hilarious.” But she shrugged, not meeting his eyes. He let her go, and she followed him back to the living room, then into the arms he held out to her. “I don’t want to talk about it, Ren.”

“I know you don’t, which is why you need to. Sit with me.” She let out a sigh and nodded against his shoulder. He pulled her to the couch, draped an arm around her shoulders, and tucked her head under his chin. “Now spill.”

“I broke Rule Number One.”

She felt him take in a sharp breath.

“You did not get involved with a vamp. I know you better than that.”

“He was in trouble, and he’s a half-blood, and we—”

“Whoa.” He pulled away and looked at her, his dark eyes narrowed. “Start from the beginning, Kat.”

She summarized, leaving out the details of just how connected she felt to Michael. But she knew Ren got the gist when he leaped off the couch. “What the hell—”

“He didn’t hurt me, Ren—”

“He tried to turn you! How is that not hurting?”

“No, he didn’t. It was a bonding, which is different.” And more devastating, because it meant he wanted
her
. “He stopped, almost before he broke the skin.”

And why am I defending a vampire?
She knew the answer; she just refused to even think it. He could have turned her: a half-blood gained that ability after they reached a certain age. Kat knew, by Michael’s curse, and his formal speech patterns, that he was more than old enough. Her fingers brushed over the scabs again, and simply touching where he left his mark had her aching for him, for what they didn’t finish.

“Where is he?”

She lifted her head, recognizing the tone in Ren’s voice. It was his “let’s go hunt down the monster and stake him” tone.

“It doesn’t matter. The Council was after him, so he’s most likely dead by now.” And why did that hurt like a knife in the heart?

“Wait—back it up. The Council of Vampires is after him? How did you get involved, Miss ‘I’m a retired hunter now’ Riley?”

Kat let out a sigh. “I was doing a photo shoot in the cemetery. He saved my life, Ren. Those bastards shot me with a blood bolt.”

“Where?” He examined her shoulder, then took her vitals, like she was a newbie. “Looks like he got most of it.”

“He did.” Which gave her no excuse for what happened after. “I’ll be fine, Ren. I just need to get over myself. It was a blow to the old ego that I ran away from the Council instead of facing them.”

“And I’ll be forever grateful to this Michael that he did take you out of their path. The Council’s been bloodthirsty lately, and not just with their own.”

She sat, staring at him. This was news—and she wasn’t happy he didn’t share. They were partners, damn it—

Oh, right. She was the one who said she needed a break. It had only been a month since she walked away.

“You forgot,” he said, that smirk she hated on his face. “For a minute there, you were about to punish me for holding back information.”

“Bite me, Ren.”

“I’d love to, but I know I’d get a nose full of fist if I tried.”

Kat blinked, staring up at him. He didn’t—he couldn’t—

“Ren—”

“No, Kat. Friends, always. Partners—hopefully. I refuse to look beyond that when I know it’s a done deal on your side.”

“I’m sorry.” She eased out of his embrace. “I didn’t—”

“Yeah, you did. But you were kind enough to gently push me away. Hey.” He cupped her chin, applied pressure until she met his eyes. “I accepted a long time ago, sweetheart. I’m good. We’re good.”

“Okay.” She gave him what felt like a pathetic smile and stood. “I should go. It’s been a rough week.”

She didn’t look over her shoulder, but she knew Ren followed her to the door.

“Don’t go looking for him, Kat.”

“What?”

“Your half-blood. If he’s still alive, he’s got a bull’s-eye on his back. I don’t want you in the crossfire again.”

“I’ll do what I—”

“Damn well please.” He smiled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “I know you will. Just do me a favor—call me, so I can cover your six.”

“Always.” She skipped the usual friendly kiss, since it would just hurt him. Damn. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Kat felt his gaze on her all the way out to her car. Once she slid into the sleek mustang and took off, relief swept through her, immediately followed by guilt.

“Double damn,” she whispered. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Ren, but apparently all she had to do was be in the same room with him.

Retirement was hard, and painful, but maybe it was better all around, for everyone concerned.

4

Rule Number Ten: Vampires can only punish vampires. Not their friends, not their family – just the vampires, damn it.

~ Kat Riley’s Rules For Hunting

Kat couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she dreamed about him. Woke up aching for him.

She lost her appetite, because she wasn’t sleeping. It was a vicious cycle—one she had to break. And there was only one way to break it.

Getting that damn half-blood out of her system. Once and for good.

It took two weeks, but she finally caught up with him.

So had the Council.

***

Michael nearly had heart failure when he felt Kat in the alley behind him.

“Get out of here.”

“Not a chance, Vlad.” The absurd nickname had him smiling. It faded at her next words. “You have three very unhappy Council vamps on your ass.”

“I am more than aware.” He led them to the warehouses near the waterfront to keep anyone else from harm. “Now go.”

She stalked toward him, knives bristling from the belt at her waist. “You aren’t facing them alone. It’s suicide.” One eyebrow raised as she met his eyes. “But you already know that.” She cursed, long and low, and with impressive variety. “We’re doing this together, Vlad.”

“No.”

“Too bad.” She flashed a smile. “I have to talk to you, and it looks like I have to kick some vampire ass before I can do that.”

She made it sound as if they were meeting for tea.

“I’ll not let you face them, Kat.”

She looked over his shoulder. “Too late. Get behind me.”

He raised his chin. “I will not—”

“Michael.” Those amber spiked eyes studied him, more gentle than he expected. “I won’t walk away and leave you to them.” She pulled two wicked, silver knives off her belt. “Besides, I’m getting rusty. Time for a little training exercise.”

Before he could stop her she darted past him and ran at the first vampire.

His still human heart nearly stopped—until he saw her fight.

She was like a dancer, all grace and fire, the deadly knives an extension of her hands. The first vampire stumbled back, surprise in the pale eyes, his hand clutching his bleeding side. Michael guessed he had not been bloodied in centuries. No one was insane enough to attack a Council member.

Except a hunter.

Michael pulled the leather wrapped hilt of his own silver knife, and joined Kat. He was about to condemn himself, and for the first time, he did not care.

***

Kat saw him out of the corner of her eye, heading for a Council member.

“Damn it—”

If Michael so much as bruised one of them, he was dead. And she wasn’t even close to done with him, so she needed him breathing.

She cut him off, flashing one of her knives at him to make sure he stayed put. He flinched, and took a step back. That was good enough for her.

Taking a deep breath, she spun, leading with her knives. All three vampires jerked away.

“We done here?”

The tall, deadly handsome vampire pointed at Michael. “He belongs to us.”

“Wrong. He belongs to me, and I’m not ready to give him up.”

“You—” The vamp sputtered. She loved throwing them off balance. “You are a hunter.”

“Retired.”

“Then why—”

“Am I attacking you? Because you cowards ganged up on one man. I figured I’d even the odds.” She stalked forward, and they all stumbled in their haste to avoid being touched by her knives. “Keep your hands off him. He’s not one of yours, and I won’t stand by while you throw around your archaic laws.”

The vamp hissed. Kat was waiting for smoke to pour out of his ears.

“You do not dictate—”

“Rule Number Ten, asshat: Vamps can only punish vamps.”

“But he is—”

“A half-blood. For a couple centuries, at least. That makes him hands off to you. Permanently.”

What would have been a frown on a human tugged at his mouth. “I know nothing of these rules you quote.”

“Hunter’s rules—with a few of my own in the mix. You must be new in town, because every vamp here knows them by heart.” She flicked the knife in her left hand, satisfied by the vamp’s reaction when it sank into the ground an inch from his right foot. “We’re done here.”

“You will regret crossing our path, human.”

“Hell, I already do. Go find the real Council members, and see how much clout you really have.”

Kat did the unthinkable, from a vampire’s perspective—she turned her back on one. His furious hiss had her ready to spin at a moment’s notice, but she heard the light footsteps fade as they took her advice and left.

Michael’s heat slid over her skin, as arousing as his voice. “That was incredibly foolish.”

She retrieved her knife, then flashed a smile over her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

Before she could take another breath he was in front of her, so angry she could feel it pouring off him.

“You could have been killed.”

“Hardly. I used to do this for a living, Vlad. I’ve been doing it since—”

His lips cut her off.

The knives slipped out of her limp fingers, clattered to the ground. Need drove through her, and she fumbled at the buckle of her belt—it was studded with silver. She managed to loosen it enough for it to slide over her hips. The second it hit the ground Michael lifted her off her feet and moved until she was pinned between him and the wall of the nearest building. The cold brick at her back snapped the shock. She slipped her hands around that amazing ass, and hooked one leg over his hip as she pulled him in.

He moaned, rocking against her. Damn, he was so hard, and she could feel him throbbing, even through two pairs of jeans. His lips worked their way down until he reached the spot on her throat where—

She should have yanked herself free and walked away, right then. But he kissed the super sensitive skin, his lips gentle, his tongue caressing her. A deep, overwhelming need spiraled through her, like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

Gasping, she met every thrust, the ache to have him inside her so intense she could hardly breathe. She needed to finish what they started, get it done and get him out of her system. An alley worked just fine—

“Not here.” He whispered, his breath warm on her throat. “I want you, Kat, but it will be in my bed.”

“Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

A smile tugged at that full, beautiful mouth, and she wanted to nibble it. She wanted to start there, and work her way down to the hard, thick erection driving her to the edge.

Michael captured her lips in one long, searing kiss, then surprised her by slipping the hairpin/lock pick out of her hair, pressing it into her hand.

“Don’t forget your knives, hunter.”

She tucked the hairpin in her jeans, let go of him long enough to snatch the knives up and sheath them, keeping herself between the belt and Michael. There was going to be heat, but she wanted it to be from her body, not a burn from her silver blades.

He caught her free hand and practically dragged her out of the alley. Surprise halted her when she saw the car he was heading for. A Rolls Royce Silver Cloud.

“That’s yours?”

“For some time now.” He leaned in, and those lips nibbled her earlobe. She swallowed, achy, restless, turned on. “The back seat has been altered, in case I need a dark place.”

She eased away from the delicate torture, met the clear green eyes. “But you—I thought—”

“Silver makes me more sensitive.”

His injury. Damn—she nearly forgot. “How is your hand?”

“It won’t interfere with what I have planned.”

Kat swallowed. The heat in his eyes had her body tingling. He pulled her to the car, caught the leather edge of the belt and threw it in the back seat, then kissed her dizzy before he helped her into the passenger side.

Her hands shook so much it took three tries to buckle the seat belt.

Michael started the car, one hand on the wheel as he caught her chin in the other and kissed her again. At this rate, she wouldn’t last until they got to his bed.

“Drive,” she said, her voice rough. His smile had her body clenching. God help her, she wanted him.

It was the longest ride in the history of car rides.

By the time he pulled into a long driveway, she had her seat belt off and was trying to open the door.

“Kat—”

“Take me inside now, or we do it right here.”

“Your command, hunter.”

He grabbed her hand, slid her across the seat and out of the car. She fidgeted while he unlocked the front door, and pushed him inside the second it was open. He barely had time to close it as she kept going, pinning him against the nearest wall, her mouth on his.

She’d never felt this urgency before—this need to touch, to want, to crave.

Still lip locked, he hiked her up and carried her through the house, not stopping until she was on the bed, and he was on top of her.

She tugged at his jacket, pulled away long enough to make one demand.

“Off.”

He knelt on the bed, straddling her, and treated her to a striptease she’d never forget.

When he slid off her to get rid of his jeans, she tore at her own clothes, throwing them at the floor. Her boots refused to come off. She rolled up to sit on the edge of the bed, tugging and cursing at the calf high boots that had always been a little too tight.

“Here.” Michael’s deep voice sent a shiver through her. He knelt in front of her, one hand on her knee. “Let me help.”

“Please.”
Oh, God, please.
The heat of his hand on her had her ready to jump him. The fact that he was naked would only make it easier to get what she wanted.

She gripped his broad shoulder as he wrestled with her boots, aroused by the play of muscle under her fingers.

“Is there a reason you wear boots that are—” He grunted, finally getting one off. “Too small?” He tossed the boot over his shoulder, and she lost her last shred of patience.

She kissed him, needing to touch him, taste him. His arm slipped around her waist and he yanked her forward, until his erection nestled between her legs. She groaned, and slid along his smooth, hot length, wanting him inside her. Now.

He obviously had the same thought—easing back, he adjusted his thick shaft until it pressed into her. She moaned, digging her hands into his back as she slid forward. His hands captured her hips, stopping her before she could take him in.

“Michael—”

“Kat.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “The need to—taste you is still a threat.”

“You mean the bonding ritual?” She smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Vlad. I’ll keep your mouth busy.”

He shook his head. “I cannot believe I am actually getting used to hearing you call me that.”

“I cannot believe we’re talking, when you should already be—”

He kissed her quiet, and granted her interrupted request.

Inch by aching inch, he slid inside her. She hooked her leg over his hip and took him in deeper. God, he felt like he belonged there. No man had ever fit her like this, filled her so completely.

When he started to stroke her she broke off the kiss, needing to breathe.

“Kat—”

“Okay,” she gasped. “Can you move faster?”

A wicked smile flashed over his face. “No.”

To torture her more, he held her in place, pulled almost all the way out, then eased himself back in. Kat dug her fingers into his shoulders, heat flooding her. He kept up the slow pace, and she burned hotter, feeling every inch as he loved her.

Loved her. They weren’t having sex—he was making love to her.

And she wanted it, wanted him, more than she’d ever wanted any man. A man who wasn’t a man—

“Kat.” His voice was raw, his breathing ragged. “Hold on to me.”

She tightened her legs around him and he lowered her to the soft, thick rug, his weight settling over her. She gasped as he pressed even deeper.

“Oh, God—Michael—you’re killing me here.”

“You are so tight, Kat. I cannot—” He groaned, heat radiating off him. “I need you to keep my mouth busy now.”

She did, kissing him with all the desire she didn’t want to feel for him. He moaned, and thrust into her, hard and fast now. Her climax was building, and she rode the wave, tilting her hips and meeting every thrust.

With a shock, she felt his sharp canines elongate, slide across her tongue. He didn’t break skin, didn’t even try. Instead he eased away, meeting her eyes as he moved inside her. The green depths were dark with passion, but they were still human. She slid her hands down his chest, his skin hot and slick under her fingers. He closed his eyes, shuddered as she kept exploring, spreading her hands over his ribs, moving to his back.