Hunted (13 page)

She licked her lips, leaving them shiny in the soft light, making him want to taste those tempting curves. “Why? Because you turned me down earlier?”

He deserved a fucking medal for that. “Because you’re supposed to be off limits.”

Her chin came up, a defiant expression on her face that only made the desire flare hotter. He loved that she didn’t back down from his direct challenge. He got the feeling Zoe didn’t back down from anything. “Says who?”

“People who care about you.” Tuck, for one, and that should be enough. Clay was sure Celida would have said something to warn her off him too.

Zoe studied him for a moment while the heat built inside him, wanting to be unleashed. “What about you? Do you care about me?” she asked softly.

He did. More than he’d ever expected to. “Yeah.” And even though that meant he should get up and walk away, he couldn’t help but reach out a hand to touch the stubborn point of her chin, rub his thumb lightly across her full lower lip. “And so you need to tell me no, right now, before I do something you might regret later.”

She inched closer, leaning forward at the waist, and the combined lust and anticipation in her gaze made him bite back a groan. Her whisper was seductive as hell. “I’m not going to regret it.”

Clay’s control snapped.

He slid his hand to the back of her head, plunging his fingers deep into the thick, cool fall of her hair to pull her head back as he brought his mouth down on hers. He caught her gasp with his lips, tasted her husky moan as his tongue delved inside.

Her hands went to his shoulders, fingers digging into him in the exact opposite of a
stop
signal. Clay shifted to one knee and leaned over her, forcing her back against the mattress.

She went willingly, parting her legs to make room for him, her hands now pulling at him. He kept one hand wound in her hair to hold her where he wanted her and set the other beside her head as he leaned over her and settled his hips between her open thighs. And Jesus, he could feel her heat through his jeans.

Twining his tongue with hers, he rocked his hips, rubbing the aching bulge of his cock against her. Zoe cried out softly, wrapping her arms and legs around him. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to see her face. Drink in her expression as he took control and drove her out of her mind.

Clay lifted his head to look down at her. They were both breathing hard. Her lips were wet and swollen, her pupils so wide they all but swallowed the whiskey-colored irises. His gaze zeroed in on the pulse point fluttering rapidly at the side of her throat. Keeping hold of her hair, he arched her neck and set his mouth there, flicking his tongue over the sensitive spot, giving her the edge of his teeth.

She gasped and tipped her head back farther, offering more. Wanting it.

He moved his mouth down the slender column of her neck, breathing in that heady, exotic scent that clung to her skin as he worked his way down to where the lapels of the robe made a deep V. Zoe shifted restlessly against him, her hands wandering over his back and shoulders as he pushed aside the edges of the satin to expose even silkier flesh beneath it.

He bit back a growl at the sight of her breasts bared to him. Pale and round and firm, the nipples pink and tight. Cupping one in his free hand he lowered his mouth and closed his lips around a rigid peak. Zoe arched like a bow and let out a husky moan that made him shudder as her hands flew up to clutch at his head.

He’d fantasized about this way too often, but the reality was a million times better. She was like liquid fire in his arms, scorching him with her heat.

But he was determined to make her go up in flames.

He sucked again, rubbing his tongue along the tip of the taut flesh and the moan she let out this time was needy, breathless. “Shh,” he whispered, his entire body throbbing at the feel and taste of her, her unbelievably erotic response. If a little foreplay got her this hot, what would happen when he buried his cock inside her?

Even as he thought it, he dismissed the idea, ignoring the painful pressure in his groin. She’d already been warned about who he was. He’d been a mostly selfish lover since the end of his marriage. This was his chance to prove otherwise to her—and himself.

When he moved to her other nipple and closed his mouth around it, sucking hard, her shocked cry sliced through the quiet like a blade. Clay reacted instantly.

Releasing her hair, he brought his palm down over her mouth to silence her, rolling off her and turning her onto her side, facing away from him, and threw one leg over hers to hold her down.

Zoe went still against him, her hands blindly gripping his wrist, the round curves of her ass pushing against his fly. Leaning close until his mouth brushed her ear, he whispered, “I’m going to make you come, right here, right now. And I don’t want anyone to hear the sexy sounds you make but me.”

****

Zoe’s heart pounded against her ribs at the feel of that hard hand across her mouth. Her fingers dug into his thick wrist, her body fighting a flood of desire more intense than she’d ever known, along with a dark thrill of fear. The throb in her bruised cheek didn’t even register right now. She could feel every inch of his powerful frame pressed up against the back of her, knew she’d never be able to break his grip. But she knew he’d never hurt her and she desperately longed to see this dark side of his desire for her.

Her breathing sounded overly loud in the stifled quiet. The pressure of his hand was firm, unyielding, but not painful and he was giving her plenty of room to pull air in through her nose. She shivered at the feel of his warm breath tickling her ear, the side of her neck as his words slid through her, part promise, part threat. She honestly didn’t know which turned her on more. None of the men she’d been with were even remotely like Clay.

Her thoughts fractured like a glass shattering on a tile floor when his other hand yanked the lower edges of the robe apart. The satin halves split apart and slid down to pool around her body, leaving her exposed to the sultry night air. His low groan of approval sent a shiver racing through her.

Keeping his hand firmly in place across her mouth, he used the other to torment her nipples some more. Each time he squeezed and rolled the sensitive peaks between his skilled fingers it sent a hot stab of sensation down to the pit of her belly and between her thighs where she was already wet and aching for him. Being held captive like this, out in the open with the balcony and her plants providing them the illusion of privacy, his touch was a thousand times more erotic.

She writhed in his grip, his arms holding her so tightly that she couldn’t move more than a couple inches, but the pleasure was so great she couldn’t hold still and the feel of those steely muscles caging her only made the whole experience hotter.

His teeth closed around a tendon at the side of her neck, startling a gasp from her that was cut off by his hard hand, then his lips closed over her skin and he sucked. Zoe’s eyes slid closed and she nipped at his palm, earning a low, rough chuckle from him.

The hand at her breast slid lower, trailing ever so slowly over her ribs, her stomach. Zoe wriggled her hips, trying to part her legs for him but his thigh trapped her, pinning her down. She was held in a warm, immovable vise and she didn’t want to escape.

Those long, maddening fingers burned a path across her belly, over the rise of her hip, before traveling back toward the apex of her thighs. Her sex throbbed, aching for his touch, needing and trusting him to relieve her.

The pads of his fingers delved lower, stroked across the top of her mound. And stopped. He’d gone still behind her. His breath halted for a moment, then released on a rush of warm air that was half groan, half sigh against the side of her neck. “Oh, god, so smooth,” he whispered, stroking the soft skin she’d just had waxed the day before.

Zoe trembled in his arms and didn’t bother trying to reply, since she couldn’t talk at the moment. The rich approval in his voice told her all she needed to know. But she was so damn wet and needy she thought she’d die if he didn’t slide his fingers into her folds.

A second later, he did, and the sudden rush of heat made it feel like flames were racing over her skin. She sucked in a breath and moaned as he traced every flushed, swollen fold, desperate for more.

“You’re fucking drenched for me,” he murmured, satisfaction lacing every word.

She nodded and pulled in another breath, fighting to stay still while every muscle in her body drew taut, her toes curling in anticipation.

He drew his nose up the side of her neck, sucked at the spot just below her ear that made her see stars. “Gonna make you come, raven.”

A whimper escaped her when he pressed two fingers inside her and stroked, igniting hidden nerve endings that flared to life beneath his touch. His soft groan was muffled against her neck as he drew her moisture up her folds to rub the throbbing bud at the top of her sex. She let out a choked cry and threw her head back against his hard shoulder, her fingers gripping his wrist like it was a lifeline.

He didn’t tease. His clever fingers rubbed her clit in a tight circle, upping the pressure slightly only when she made an incoherent sound of need and pressed her mound into his hand. She could feel the orgasm rising already, building deep in her belly.

The breath sawed in and out of her lungs. He plunged two fingers back inside her, rubbed against that amazing spot before withdrawing to caress her clit. Back and forth he pleasured her, alternating between those beautiful penetrations and gentle circles on her most sensitive spot until she was quivering in his arms.

Clay made a deep sound of approval and mouthed the side of her neck, his tongue caressing softly, then plunged his fingers back into her. She mewled as he squeezed his palm around her sex, the heel of his hand making contact with her swollen clit.

“Ride my hand,” he commanded in a low voice.

Lost, helpless in the grasp of the lightning gathering inside her, Zoe did. She used the few inches of leverage she had and rubbed herself shamelessly against his hard palm. He kept the pressure steady, letting her set the movement and rhythm, his body an immoveable force surrounding her.

The feel of his fingers buried inside her, the thought of what the thick cock pressed against her would feel like in their place, knowing he was in full control, sent her over the edge. Her inner muscles clamped down on his fingers, her thighs tightened around his hand, and the orgasm broke. Her muffled shriek of ecstasy was trapped by his palm as she exploded in pulse after pulse of exquisite pleasure.

He kept his hand tight against her while the waves faded. Her muscles gradually relaxed and her hands slid from his wrist, her body too sated to expend even that much energy.

She might be a writer, but there were no words. No words whatsoever to describe what he’d just done to her, or the burgeoning feelings he’d awakened inside her.

The pressure of Clay’s hand lessened over her mouth. Releasing her, he stroked the side of her face with his knuckles, then slowly eased his other hand from between her thighs. Zoe moaned softly in protest and wriggled back toward him, seeking more contact.

Her eyelids were too heavy to force open, her body too weak to move. Totally relaxed, at least for the moment. As soon as she recovered enough to remember her own name, she was going to take this sexy man for the ride of his life and give him the same pleasure he’d just shown her. In just a few minutes, so she could savor this delicious feeling of safety and contentment of being in his arms as she relaxed.

She was vaguely aware of the light weight of the quilt sliding up her body, Clay’s heat as he wrapped a thick arm around her waist and pulled her tight into him. A moment later she felt the brush of his fingertips along the side of her face, then the warm press of his lips against her temple and let herself tumble headlong into sleep.

Carlos kept the brim of his ball cap pulled low over his forehead as he turned up the sidewalk and headed north on St. Peter’s Street. The Quarter was never empty, even at this late hour, but the streets were quiet. As long as he looked confident and unassuming, no one should be suspicious of him walking around alone.

He hitched the backpack up higher on his shoulder as he walked. It held his tools, lockpick kit, pistol and extra magazines, just in case. Not that he expected to run into any trouble. Zoe Renard lived alone in this rental apartment, and she was divorced. Nothing in her social media accounts mentioned a boyfriend or any other sort of significant other. Should be easy to sneak into her place, get her, and leave. Even if she had a gun somewhere inside, he still had to risk it.

He hadn’t decided whether he was going to kill her or not though. If she told him what he wanted to know and it led him to Leticia, he might let her live.

A group of about eight or so people were walking toward him on the same side of the street. He stepped off the sidewalk and onto the road to give them room, got a nod and a raised to-go cup by way of thanks, and stepped back up when he’d passed them. Zoe’s building was on the left, a two-story brick building with a private entrance. He’d scoped it out a couple hours ago to check out what kind of locks and security she had, and she hadn’t been home.

Coming closer to the building, he caught a glimpse of someone out on the balcony and from the height and build he knew it was her. He quickly ducked into the shadows beneath the wrought iron structure and into the alcove at the entry.

Setting his backpack down at his feet, he quickly put on gloves and withdrew the bolt cutters he’d brought. As far as locks went, the one on the gate was pathetic but good news for him. Any security system in the building itself he’d have to deal with.

Time was critical. The more headway Leticia had, the farther she could run from him. He wiped away the film of sweat that had gathered on his forehead with the shoulder of his T-shirt.

The possibility of losing Leticia made his hands shake. His breathing was harsh to his own ears. He hadn’t slept much the past two days, couldn’t eat, and no amount of alcohol could numb the panic that was slowly engulfing him. Carlos needed to find out where she was,
now
.