Dark Taste of Rapture (21 page)

“None.”

Thank God. “I will kiss you, then,” he croaked out, and it was a vow. “I’ll make you better.” He knew how he wanted to go about it, too. Strip her, spread her legs, push her against the wall, then touch and taste every inch of her. Knead her breasts, pinch her nipples, tongue her clit. Then pound his cock deep inside her, so deep she wouldn’t walk for weeks.

What he’d allow himself to do was another story.

Running from this? Not an option. Her sweet scent was in his nose, her hand was on his chest. He’d leveled himself out only half an hour ago, wasn’t in the danger zone. He could do this, have this.

A tremor moved through her. “You take too long. I’ll help.” Then she pressed their lips together and his thoughts totally and completely derailed.

More
.

She tasted of champagne, female heat, and mint. He nearly brought his hands up to cup her jaw to angle her
head for deeper access.
Don’t touch, don’t you dare touch
. Instead he pressed his gloved hands into the wall beside her and crowded her backward, until she couldn’t move, was caged.

Their tongues rolled together, clashed. He operated on instinct, lust, and pent-up frustration. At no point was the kiss a gentle exploration. At all points, it was savage and hot and consuming, a rending of self, an unquenchable thirst. He wanted more, more, more, now, now,
now
.

No. Slow it down, fool
. He had to remain distanced, had to keep himself under rigid control. But no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t stop taking, giving, taking again. Taking everything she had, eating at her, desperate for her. To own her, possess her.

“Hector,” she breathed. Her arms wound around his waist and she arched her lower body, grinding against him. A little moan escaped her, sliding down his throat and heating his every cell.

Her nipples were hard against his chest, rasping at his shirt. So badly he wanted to trace a path down the ridges of her spine and feel her ass. He pressed closer, instead, and she rubbed all the harder against the thick, swollen length of his cock.

At the first contact, she cried out and he groaned. “You feel so good, baby.”

If he lifted her dress, opened his slacks, he could press into her wet, wet core—and she
was
wet, she had to be. Her need was palpable. What would it feel like to be surrounded by a woman? By this one, specifically? Warm and wet … tight.

Amazing
. He could pound inside her, stretch her, pull out and start all over again.

He was rubbing against her madly, he realized, wringing deep, rich cries from her.

Fuck! You’re supposed to go slowly, you stupid asshole
.

Her fingers found their way to his scalp, skating through the strands of his hair. “Soft.”

“Like?”

“Very much.”

“I like
you
,” he admitted. He liked every damn thing about her. Just then, he wasn’t sure how he’d resisted her for so long. Always she was a drug, everything about her designed to lure him.

“I thought you didn’t … do this … with agents,” she said between kisses.

“I don’t. Usually.” Ever.

“So I’m special.” A statement, not a question. “Because you crave me?”

One he couldn’t deny. “Yes.” Despite everything, she’d drawn him from glance one. A draw that had only grown stronger.

“I’m glad.” She bit down on his bottom lip, the sting flaming his need, reminding him of when he’d bitten down on
her
. How her exquisite flavor had teased him, how he’d felt, for one stolen moment, that she was his, only his, that she belonged to him, body and soul.

Something he’d denied, even to himself. Until now, when he experienced that sense of ownership all over again.

He sucked on her tongue harder. Their teeth banged together, and even that he liked. Her hips continued to
slowly gyrate against him, round and round, brushing against him, then leaving him panting for more, then brushing against him again.

Her fingers slid down his chest, to the waist of his pants, dug past the material, seeking his cock. They closed around him, and he hissed in a breath. Shit, he was going to lose it!

“The things you do to me,” he rasped.

“So big,” she breathed. “Mmm, Hector, I don’t know if you’ll be able to fit in me, but I can’t wait to find out.”

The first tingles sparked in his arms. Panic battered against his arousal, and he forced his arms to snap behind his back. “Stop. Just for a second. Please, Noelle.” Begging? Shit. Yeah, he’d begged. “Just need … a moment. I have to calm down.”

She stilled, licked at his lips one final time, as if she couldn’t help herself, then lifted her head, her breath coming shallow and quick. Her mouth was red, swollen, and glossed with his taste. God, he liked that, liked knowing some part of him was on her, in her, that he was connected to her and she to him.

Her eyes were glassy with her arousal, her pupils blown and shadowing her irises. “Did I do something you didn’t like?” Fingers loosening …

Wanting to moan at the loss, he shook his head. “I liked what you were doing too much.”

“Oh.” A blush stained her cheeks, or maybe a deeper flush of arousal. “
Oh.”
A slow, wicked grin spread, lighting her entire face as she clutched him tighter. “So by
stop
you actually meant
keep going
?”

He fought a laugh. Humor, when he was skirting the edge of danger. Such a thing should have been impossible, and would have been, with anyone else. Noelle’s teasing spirit spoke to a part of him he’d never known. The mischievous child he’d never gotten to be.

“No. I just … I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t. Unless you leave me like this.” She stroked up, down.

Another hiss of breath. “I
can
hurt you in other ways. Believe me, I really can.”

Her brow furrowed with her confusion, and she straightened the rest of the way, removing her hand from his cock completely. He wanted to curse, but offered up a prayer of thanks instead. “How?” she asked.

Hinges squeaked, Mia Snow sticking her dark head out the door a second later. Her blue gaze scanned the area, then lightened when she spotted them. “There you are.”

“What?” An unspoken
this better be a matter of life or death
coated Hector’s voice as he angled his body away, hiding his erection and blocking her view of Noelle.

“Nice greeting, asshole,” Mia snapped.

“Sorry,” he muttered.
I am a calm, rational being
. “What do you want?”

With her, you never knew. Could be something easy, like being asked to go into work early the next day, or something slightly more difficult, like kicking your own ass into next week for some perceived slight.

“There’s been a homicide. Dallas is having a meltdown about something, so I’m making you primary,”
Mia told him. “You need to head to the scene now, and have a look-see before local PD screws everything up.”

Hector’s gaze sought Noelle unbidden. She’d gotten herself under control, her expression blank, her breathing even. That she’d recovered so quickly, he didn’t like. At all.

“Give me the details,” he forced himself to say.

Mia spouted them off as if she were reading bullet points from a computer screen. When she finished, she added, “Oh, and take Tremain with you. You’re going to need her.”

N
OELLE TRIED TO RELAX
in her seat. Hector had traded rides with Mia, taking her AIR standard issue, complete with uncomfortable syn-leather interior, a console perched between the driver and passenger seats, and dash-screens in place of a steering wheel and glove compartment. Clear shield armor separated front from back, so that naughty otherworlders couldn’t attack with fists, teeth, or even mind control.

Noelle owned a garage full of cars, some made before the human-alien war nearly a century ago, and before the armor-modification had become customary. She much preferred the older models. What was more fun than cutting corners as if you were on rails, burning rubber, and spinning donuts without sensors to stop you from crashing?

Besides making out with Hector in a public place, that is. Again. After a year-long abstinence, as if no time had passed. Nothing, that’s what.

Her blood
still
shimmered with desire. Her hand still ached from trying to fit all the way around him,
his length so thick her fingertips hadn’t come close to connecting.

Yet he appeared unaffected, all business.

She studied the harsh planes of his profile. He had a staring contest going with the road, ignoring her. Sensors covered the entire outside of this vehicle, so there was no reason to focus that steadily. The car maneuvered the streets on its own, slowing, stopping, and speeding up as necessary.

Well, she could do that, too. Noelle peered out the window. Soon they left the suburbs behind, with the cute houses and the cute families, inside eating dinner. They made their way toward the poorer part of the city. Cool air trickled from the vents, but nothing could override the scent of Hector that permeated the small front enclosure. Wild, earthy, and sweaty.

Every breath Noelle sucked in reminded her of what they had been doing before Mia interrupted—eating each other’s faces.

Both times before, a single taste had caused instinct to propel Noelle over a ledge she couldn’t see until too late. He was a drug to her, able to destroy any barrier, addicting her quickly, heating her inexorably, spinning her closer and closer to the bottom of what would either prove to be a deep, dark cavern of loneliness, or a bright, consuming bed of passion.

Hell, this time she hadn’t even needed a taste. She’d fallen the moment he had approached her, and there had been no stopping her spiral to
splat
. Every cell she possessed had yearned to have his hands exploring her, his body pounding into hers.

Damn him and his irresistibility. Now she wanted more of him, more
from
him, and would have given him more of herself. Would have asked him to go home with her, where she would have given him all, everything.

Maybe. One-night stands weren’t her thing, and never had been.

Maybe he would have wanted more than a one-night stand, though. Maybe he would have wanted to stay the night with her, see her again the next day, and the next. He craved her, after all.

Except he was already distancing himself from her. Regretting?

Hello loneliness.

With Corban, she’d known where they were headed before they ever hit the sheets. He’d wooed and won her, and then stuck around to polish his prize. With Hector, she’d never known, and it had never mattered.

With Hector, she still didn’t know, and it still didn’t matter. Damn him, she thought again.

“Hector,” she began. She wasn’t a coward. She would simply ask him what he expected from her. If he said they could give this thing, whatever it was, a try, she’d give the relationship everything she had. If he said this was the end—rejecting her for the third time in their acquaintance—she’d stab him in the jugular and hide his corpse.

Besides, this was her first murder investigation. Concentration was key. So after she found out where she stood with Hector, her mind would be clear, and
then
boom
, she could solve the case and save the day. Easy as that.

“This was a mistake,” he said before she could utter another word.

Just her luck, they reached their destination a moment later. The car parked in front of a line of police tape. Hector didn’t push from the vehicle, but sat there, waiting for her response.

A mistake? A freaking mistake? Wow, that hurt. While she had luxuriated in what they could have done, could still do, he’d obviously been thinking of how to let her down without bloodshed.

Do not react. You suspected
. She would paste a happy smile on her face, as always, and concentrate on the case.

The smile was a bit more difficult than usual to pull off, considering the emotional upheaval of the day. Needing a moment, she gazed outside, and yeah, she was highly aware she was acting like the very coward she’d denied being. The moon was full and golden. Other cars littered the area, official red and blue lights flashing. A wide, open field stretched in every direction, grass growing in patches, crisp leaves dancing in the gentle breeze.

Where was the slain human they were supposed to examine? She increased the periphery of her focus. About fifty yards of dirt had been sectioned off by that tape, but the handful of officers who were standing outside were talking rather than working.

“Noelle,” Hector said. “Did you hear me?”

Smile, damn you
. “Of course I heard you. I’m sitting
right beside you.” She added, “I guess I should have told mother dearest yes. Her old biddie of a friend thinks I’d be perfect for her son the surgeon.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Hector growled, then caught himself. “But whatever you want to do is fine.”

Smile!
“And just so you know, this is gonna be Cherry Picking Barry all over again,” she said before she could stop herself.
Cas, keep it cas
.