Things That Go Hump In The Night (43 page)

Kat studied him, this half-blood who turned her life upside down, dared her to care about someone, to love someone. She lifted her right arm and pointed.

“My house is that way.”

Michael’s smile heated every inch of her.

6

Rule Number Eleven: This one’s going to hurt, but here it is: love ain’t part of the gig. If you can’t take your feelings out of the equation, you shouldn’t be a hunter. You’re a liability to yourself and anyone who depends on you. Deal with it, or step away.

~ Kat Riley’s Rules For Hunting

They took his motorcycle the short distance, to stow it in her garage. Kat slapped off the alarms, her fingers shaking as she set them to turn on once the garage door closed behind them. She opened her mouth to tell Michael the door to the house was unlocked and he captured her lips in a kiss that left her fighting for breath.

She clutched the front of his shirt, and let out short, needy moans as his tongue slid over hers. He deepened the kiss, hauling her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and they both moaned as she slid her hand down and cupped him. God—he was rock hard, and she wanted him, now.

Michael freed her lips, bent her back over his arm, kissing his way down her exposed throat. He nudged her torn shirt open—and she gasped when his mouth closed over her bare breast.

“Michael—God—” His teeth scraped over her nipple.

She tangled her hands in his hair as he explored every inch of one breast, then moved to the other. When he finished, leaving her limp and gasping, he set her on the floor, kissed his way up to her mouth, and whispered against her lips.

“Put your arms around me, Kat.” He met her eyes. “I am taking you to bed, so I am able to touch every inch of you, love every inch of you.”

“I’m good with that.”

His smile broke the tension.  No man had ever—

She wasn’t going down that ugly road. Michael wasn’t any of them. She’d known it from their first time together.

He kissed her, one long, scorching kiss that turned her legs to rubber. When he eased away, he gave her a wicked smile, like he knew she could hardly stand, and took her hand. “Lead the way, my beautiful Kat.”

His touch helped steady her, even as the thumb skimming over her hand sent jolts of need through her. She walked with him through her dark, quiet house, to the bedroom at the back. Before she could flip on the light switch, he stopped her.

“Have you any candles?”

“I—yeah, I think so.”

Sweet God in heaven. Her heart started pounding as she headed for the linen closet in the bathroom. She wasn’t a girly girl, not even by a long stretch, but her friends had always bought her girly things, like candles, as not so subtle hints. Hopefully she kept some of them.

There were a handful, in different, nose-offending scents. She picked out the vanilla candles—those seemed popular—and found a box of matches. After she lit the first candle she got a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, God.” She looked like she escaped from a really bad hunt. Or an asylum.

Using the candle as a light source, because she did not want to see all of herself at once, she stripped out of the borrowed jacket and torn shirt. Not that the shirt had been covering anything; Michael had opened the makeshift wrap completely, leaving her breasts on display.

She toed off the boots, pulled the jeans down her legs, and stepped out of them. Risking the mirror again, she splashed her face with water, tried to run a comb through her hair, and gave up. She grabbed her robe off the back of the door, wrapped it around her, then gathered up the rest of the candles. It would be easier to light them in the bedroom…

Her mind went blank when she saw Michael.

He stood in front of her bed, completely naked, and obviously ready for her. Moonlight caressed his bare skin, highlighting the muscular frame, the strong, angular face, the huge, hard erection. Oh, God—she forgot, every time, just how big he was.

“Did you need help with those?” He walked over to her, and she thought she’d drop the candles when his erection pressed into her hip. He was so hot, so hard, and she wanted him so much her hands shook. “Let me take the candles, love.”

Kat dumped them in his hands and backed away, until the heat radiating from his body no longer touched her. Until no body part touched her. She watched him set the candles around the room, lighting each one after he placed it. The glow was soft, flattering. Romantic.

Damn him, she didn’t want romantic. She wanted heat, and skin, and the chance to forget that she admitted her feelings to him, to forget that Ren was no longer Ren. She just wanted to lose herself in meaningless sex, damn it. Why couldn’t it be that simple?

When he moved back to her, his green eyes dark, intense, she let out a ragged sigh.

“I can’t do this, Michael.”

“I beg to differ.”

His words had her biting back a smile. How did he do that? How did he know just what to say to her to break down the wall she kept trying to build between them?

“You’re too much. This,” she waved her hand between them, “is too much.”

“Do you want me, Kat?”

The question startled her, and she blurted out the answer before she could think. “Yes, damn it. You already know I do.”

“There is the honesty I love. My desire is more than obvious, but I will never force myself on you. This time, you will have to invite me into your bed.”

She turned away from him, hugging her waist. He just gave her the perfect out, the chance to walk away before it was too late.

“It’s already too late,” she whispered, staring at the wall. Not having him study her with those clear, intense eyes helped give her the courage to keep talking. “I want you, Michael, like I never wanted any man.” His warmth radiated against her back. She wanted to lean into him—hell, she wanted to turn around and throw herself at him. But she had to finish, and let him decide if he wanted to continue. “But people around me tend to get hurt, or die. It’s the reason I don’t have many friends.” Any close friends, except Ren. And look what happened to him, because of her. “I just want you to know what you’re stepping into if you accept my invite, because like you, I don’t think I can let go if I love you again. Which means inevitable pain, and probably death.”

His hands closed over her shoulders, and the heat that shot through her left her stunned, vulnerable, and so aroused her legs shook.

“If that was meant to scare me off, love, it failed.” His mouth found the sensitive spot on her throat, tasting her skin. That aching need spiraled through her and she nearly melted against him. “I have never wanted a woman as I want you, Kat. If I accept this generous, threat laden invite.” Amusement edged his low voice, fading with his next words. “I am yours, for now and for good, because I have fallen in love with you.”

Swallowing, she stepped away from him, felt his hands slide off her shoulders. With that warmth gone, she felt more alone than she ever had. She was tired of alone.

She turned to face him, her chin up, her hands clenched to keep them from giving away just how damn scared she was right now. He loved her. Sweet God in heaven, he loved her. “I accept your conditions.”

To her surprise, Michael smiled. “I stand here, in a room filled with candles, and I feel as if I am accepting a surrender on the field of battle.” She jumped when he moved in, his hands slowly untying the belt of her robe. “I love you, my Kat. It is as simple and as complicated as that.”

Her voice lodged in her throat when he slipped the robe off her shoulders, down her arms, letting it drift to the floor.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “You are so beautiful.”

She closed her eyes. Men had called her just about everything, from crazy bitch to lover, but no man had ever called her beautiful, with such reverence. Michael closed his hands around her waist and pulled her forward, lifting her until his hard erection nestled between her legs.

“Michael—oh, God.” He slid against her, and she thought she would explode right then. She dug her fingers into his arms and arched into him, wanting more, wanting him inside her. “Please—Michael—stop teasing me.”

“Your command, hunter.” She let out a shriek when he threw her at the bed. Before she could recover he was next to her, his hands on her, pulling her in. Kat moaned as he slipped between her legs. His thick, hard length was hot, smooth, and not inside her.

Ready for action, she pushed him to his back and took him in hand—literally.

He jerked against her fingers, growled as she guided him inside her. He took it from there. Flipping her over, he entered her with one fast, deep thrust and buried himself to the hilt. Kat almost climaxed at the feel of him, so thick, so hard as he filled her.

He shocked her again by trapping both wrists in his hand and pulling her arms over her head.

“You are so tight, Kat. Sweet Jesu—I will not last if you touch me,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Hold on to the headboard, love, or I will tie you to it.”

That should have terrified her. Instead—God, she wanted it. Wanted him to take charge, to let go of the control that had ruled her life. Give her the distraction she badly needed.

“Okay.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Tie me up, Vlad. Have your way with me.”

Shock flared in his eyes. “Kat—I was not—”

“Serious? If you want me to keep my hands off all that glorious muscle, you’re going to have to restrain me. I have some scarves in the closet.”

He stared at her for a long time, like he was trying to read her mind. Then he captured her lips in a heated kiss, one that had her arching up against him.

“One word,” he whispered, easing out of her. “One word, and I will release you immediately.”

“Works for me.” She met his eyes, wanting to laugh at his eagerness. She kept her mouth from twitching, and gave him her word. “Banana.”

“Banana?”

“It’s something I definitely won’t scream in an orgasmic haze. And I like bananas.”

“Stay here.” He shot off the bed and disappeared into her closet, giving her an eyeful of firm ass.

“Like I’d go anywhere after that invitation.” His laughter filtered out of the closet, and she smiled, since he couldn’t see her. When he reappeared, her mouth went dry. He held two of the silk scarves she never wore in each hand. God—he was going to tie all of her. “Vlad—”

“Only if you agree, Kat.”

“Hell, yes.”

He flashed her a smile that shot heat straight to her already throbbing center, and knelt next to the headboard.

“I have never—” He cut himself off, kissed the palm of her hand. “I am humbled that you trust me enough.” She watched him tie the soft scarf around her left wrist, and then to the wrought iron. “It is a slip knot, so I can release you the moment you say banana.”

“Excellent.”

There was no way in hell she was letting that word slip out of her mouth—not until she was a limp puddle of spent woman. Just watching him as he carefully, gently bound her wrists was so arousing, she was afraid she might lose control the second he touched her.

He moved to her feet, one hand resting on her right ankle. “Are you certain? Because I don’t need—”

“Tie me up, Vlad.”

He obeyed, working fast, binding her ankles to the low footboard, his fingers not as steady now. Once she was spread eagle, and, oh God, so ready for him, he stood at the end of the bed and just looked at her.

“You are so beautiful, Kat. I need to touch you now.”

“God—please.” With a smile, he laid his hand on her calf. “Michael—”

She started to reach for him—and the silk bond gave her a startling reminder that she couldn’t.

“Do I need to release you?”

“No.” She bit back the curses shouting in her head. He was going to toy with her, and she wanted it, but she also wanted him. Inside her. Now. “Michael—”

A gasp cut her off when he bent down and ran his tongue up the inside of her thigh. The bastard stopped just before reaching her clit, and it throbbed in needy disappointment. His hands slid up the outside of her legs, curled around to cup her ass.

“Oh, please—God, Michael, please—”

He kissed her stomach, his tongue circling her belly button. She had no idea that could be an erogenous zone. Just his tongue had her digging her heels into the bed, trying to get closer. He gently pushed her down, his thumbs caressing her hips.

She whimpered—God, she never whimpered. But the heat built, fast and uncontrollable, and she needed him to give her some relief, damn it.

Her stomach quivered as he kissed his way down, stopping to lay a gentle kiss on the old scar next to her left hipbone. She yanked at the restraints, wanting to touch him, but the silk held her, and that loss of control just pushed her higher.

He had kissed and loved every inch of her, but he had not gone down on her. She thought it was an age thing—him being from another century. Or the fact that they went at each other like horny teenagers when they were in the same room.

But as he worked his way closer, teasing her with every inch, she knew he’d done this before. He knew where to touch, where to pause, to make her want to scream in frustration.

After endless seconds, his breathing as ragged as hers, he lowered his head, ran his tongue over her aching clit.