Soul Stealer (20 page)

“I agree.” He turned and walked back to the sidewalk, gave another wave, then went back into the restaurant. She watched for just a split second before getting in her car and taking off after that ambulance.

Chapter Nineteen

When Patrice opened her eyes again, it wasn’t because her body wanted that kiss to stop. It was a necessity; heaven knew she’d stopped breathing the second her amnesiac’s lips had pressed to hers.

Up close he was too much: too looming, too large, too beautiful. She couldn’t even be sure he’d kissed her, but as she opened her eyes … Yup, there he was, looking down at her, their faces just fractions of an inch apart.

Her lips were tingling from the contact. His hands stayed on her hips, warm through her clothes, and she had the urge to move her hips to show how much she liked him touching her.

Patrice’s eyes flicked back up to his crystal-blue ones. She should say something. Maybe she should ask him to give her space or not do that anymore.

She arched upwards to meet his mouth again, pressing back firmly. His lips were so soft, moving against hers so sweetly. Carefully. His grip on her hips tightened and she stepped in to him, pressing to him chest to groin. It was like leaning into a wall – big, broad, firm – a living and breathing wall.

When she opened up and slid her tongue forward he seemed to hesitate and she was going to pull away. Then his mouth opened too, letting her in. Her first taste was enough to make her moan, clutching the front of his denim jacket tighter.

Men weren’t made like this. He tasted of fruit and wine and sugar and everything you want for dessert. His smell in her nose was fresh-baked bread. If this was a dream, she may as well enjoy it.

Slowly she slid hands up to his shoulders, along the back of his neck and into his hair. It flowed through her fingers like silk, warm from his skin. Incredibly sensual. She could imagine it falling forward on to her neck, breasts, stomach.

As though he could read her mind he gave a moan of his own, pulling her in even tighter and pushing that soft tongue into her mouth further, aggressing to the point where he backed her up against the cupboard. It bit into her lower back, but she couldn’t care less. He devoured her with every gentle stroke and pull.

Her blood was bubbles, floating upwards and popping like the effervescence on top of a soda. Any thought she could have put together was broken apart, dissolved in this incredibly beautiful man holding her and kissing her like he wouldn’t stop until they were both completely naked and spent.

When she did have a reflection that was repeatable she was leaning her forehead on his, breathing heavy, trying not to remember what his body looked like; even though the skin showing at the base of his throat was teasing her the whole time. He was gasping like she was, his eyes closed, his hands kneading at her hips like he was trying to get a grip on himself and not just her.

“Are you … are you okay?” she breathed.

“I’m trying to decide if this is a mistake. It really doesn’t feel like one.”

She had to smile, warming more at the thought that she was having the same effect on him he was having on her. “No, it doesn’t.”

“I know what I want. But is it right?”

An area below her bellybutton was demanding attention immediately. And as she came back into awareness slowly, she realized it was him, pressing into her abdomen hot and hard. She gulped.

“I’m an adult,” she said slowly. “This isn’t my first time. But if it’s your memory loss that’s making this strange for you …”

“No, that’s fine. I’m worried … about you.”

She had to smile. “I’m tough.”

“God, I want you.”

She inhaled at that, aware that she didn’t completely believe him. He was too perfect; too far out of her league. And yet, the body can’t really lie, can it?

“I want you, too.” And it was so completely true. If she couldn’t have him, at that moment, it felt as though the world would end. It was exactly like being a teenager when the “here and now” trumped all else.

His hand left her side, rising to tilt her face up to his. “I’m not completely sure of what I’m doing. You have to tell me if I’m messing it up.”

She nearly giggled, but he was so completely earnest it stopped the laugh cold. “I will.”

He covered his mouth with hers again, holding onto her hair at the back of her head. His tongue was heavenly silk in her mouth, his body rising her temperature to where she knew she was flushed and panting. Every part of him needed to be bare to her eyes and hands. She shoved at his jacket, and he let go long enough to let it fall from his arms. When he grabbed her again it was to scoop her up, setting her on the countertop. Her phone was under her butt, and she pushed it out of the way with an exasperated sound.

He had her jacket in his grip, and he helped her pull that off. Even with thin shirts between them it was better. Under her hands and the cotton of his T-shirt he was hot, hard, smooth, muscle flexing as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her right to the edge of the granite top, legs spread around his hips. His hands found her thighs, too, squeezing and kneading as he made a meal of her.

I’m not completely sure of what I’m doing.
The hell he wasn’t.

Her hands slid under his shirt, touching the tight skin of that perfect stomach. His breathing made the muscles clench and relax. She kept her touch light, tracing up that ribbed abdomen to the muscle pads of his chest. Her hands slid over both nipples lightly, and he convulsed slightly, letting go of her mouth long enough to suck in a hissing breath. That sound gave her a shudder as well.

“This needs to come off,” she informed him, and in a flash of distressed fabric it was gone. As he stood before her, golden skin shining under the halogen pot lights, she had to sigh. Absolutely perfect. She didn’t know what to touch first.

He made the decision, placing her palm on the centre of his chest. She stared at the back of her hand, so pale in the centre of all that bronzed warmth. They were so different. But as she looked up in to his eyes, it didn’t matter. They were the same in the fact that they wanted the person they were with. His lids were low, his mouth open, looking her up and down like she was a buffet and he wanted to know where the line started.

Tentatively she took hold of the hem of her T-shirt, but she paused as she was about to pull it up. She wasn’t as perfect. She had a bit of pudge on her stomach she’d never been able to get rid of. Her thighs touched when she was standing still. Her breasts were standard, all-natural C- and sometimes B-cups. She was nowhere near as magnificent as this man.

His hands came back to her hips, sliding up to her bare skin with all his warmth. He took the shirt hem from her and tugged upward. She looked at his face as she raised her arms over her head. He was staring into her eyes, then as the shirt came off over her head his gaze dropped down and he sighed. His eyes fell closed, and he lowered his head to press his hot lips to the tops of her breasts.

Patrice felt her neck go limp, her head falling forward, pressing into that glorious hair, breathing him in deep. His touch was so light she only knew he was kissing her by the heat rising in her chest and up her neck to her cheeks.

Warm hands slid around to her back as he came up to kiss her again, and the suck and pull of his mouth was downright possessive. It didn’t matter; he had her completely anyway. There was no way she was stopping him.

Iola was smiling for no particular reason as she rinsed off the last of the wine glasses. Vinnie took it from her, drying it as she pulled the drain in the sink. He gave her the towel to dry her hands, leaning in to kiss her as well.

She put the towel down, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “This was a good night,” she said, pressing another light kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, almost normal, right?”

She laughed at that. “Yeah. Friends over for supper, nice conversation, even if one of them did make me think Abercrombie and Fitch might be missing a model.”

Vinnie smiled down at her completely free of jealousy. “You noticed that, did you?”

“Hard not to. Two incredibly handsome men eating the meal I made.” She gave him another kiss. “Do you believe the amnesia thing?”

He shrugged. “No reason for him to lie. Patrice said she knew he wasn’t in her place to hurt her. Or rob her. She’s not scared of him, and … I believe him.”

She nodded. “So do I. I think I even like them together.”

Vinnie frowned. “They just met, Iola.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you really this dense?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Vinnie. I was almost getting sunburn from the heat.”

“Really?”

She shook her head, laughing. “They were sweet together. He reminded me of you when we first met. So sweet. The whole time I was wishing you’d just jump me.”

His smile broadened. “You could have jumped me, you know.”

“I did, remember?”

He kissed her long and slow, his tongue teasing an instant arousal from her even though the activities of the early evening had her pretty sore. Didn’t matter.

“Are you sure you’re ready for more?” He asked, voice low and sexy.

“Always,” came the answer without her thinking it.

“It’s strange,” he said, out of nowhere. “Those two made me think of when we first met, too. There’s something … about Ralph.”

She pulled back. “He gives you a bad feeling?”

“Not really. But … I keep going back. To … that day.”

She nodded, heart sinking. “I know, babe. I still don’t know what happened.”

“Me neither. I’m not scared of Ralph I just get a … wary feeling. It’s silly. Maybe I’m just tired.” He grabbed her by her ass. “Lord knows I haven’t been getting any sleep lately.”

She giggled as he kissed her again, deep and slow like he was in no hurry. Then he broke away like he had something urgent to say, which he did.

“I love you, babe.”

Her smile was big enough to hurt. “I love you too, Vinnie.”

“I know we’re moving in together. But … I want to marry you, Iola.”

Her heart caught. “Vinnie. Are you … are you asking -”

He looked terrified. “No, not right now. Officially. I mean, I’d get a ring and drop down on one knee and all that. But I’m … warning you. That’s what’s in my head. That’s how I’m feeling about you. That’s what I want.”

The world ground to a halt, almost to a point where she felt like she’d be jolted from the sudden stop.

“Iola?” The doubt was on his face immediately. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have -”

She cut him off with her lips, wrapping herself up in him, not wanting to stop in case she started crying.

Iola hated that she’d doubted linking herself to him mind, body and soul. She had been temporarily insane; she’d swear it in any court of law.

“Vinnie,” she finally whispered against his mouth. “I love you. I’d love to marry you one day.”

“Again?”

Jehoel stood in the doorway, almost looking pale. He just nodded. “Two deaths. And the force was … huge. Powerful. We all felt the tremor from here.”

“You felt it?”

“Yeah. It’s getting stronger. We think Raphael might have been the equivalent of an energy drink to it.”

Voro shrugged his jacket on. “Where?”

The address was delivered while they strode briskly down the hallway to the heavy metal doors he now associated with trips to the world below. Voro vaguely knew the area they were headed – it was close to downtown and he’d spent many an evening finding some of his best sinners around there.

Outside the portal Jehoel stopped him with a hand across his shoulder. “Anael came to me. Told me what she did. She’s very sorry.”

Voro felt embarrassment for probably the first time ever. “She told you?”

“It can happen. We’re still biologically functional. But thanks for not forcing her.”

Voro felt his horror the instant it likely flashed across his face. “I never would have -”

“I know that’s what you think, but sometimes females have been … attacked. They put up a hell of a fight sure, and usually the attacker gets what he deserves after but … thank you.”

Voro shook his head, wondering where the hell all this came from. “Okay, first, she’s got nothing to apologize for. I wasn’t attacked by her in the least, and I was willing to take part. And she’s the one hit the brakes. I haven’t had to force a woman ever and that’s not bragging. All in all, that’s between me and her. But like I said, no one needs to apologize to anyone.”

Jehoel nodded. “I’m glad you feel that way. But know this: anyone who fornicates with one of us without immediate physical injury will eventually go insane.”

Voro frowned. “She mentioned that. That actually happens?”

“Usually it’s an impossible, misplaced, desperate infatuation that drives them mad. Humans fall in love with us and no matter what – they can’t have us. That goes for you – you can touch but that’s it.”

They stared at each other for a long moment then Voro nodded to the door. “Should I get going?”

Jehoel shook his head as if bringing himself back to the shit that actually mattered. “Yeah. Go ahead. Be careful. Do not engage, but tell us what you see and feel.”