The Reluctant Vampire (15 page)

While the way he’d turned his back to the rest of the club had hidden what he was doing, touching her the way he had in their booth, with people all around, had been madness. But even worse, he’d wanted to do more, and wasn’t really sure how he’d managed not to. It had taken great effort. He wanted to touch her now too and was holding her hand to keep from grabbing her by the waist and pulling her onto his lap. He wanted to push her coat and dress off her shoulders, remove her bra, and feast on her flesh. But mostly he wanted to tug her skirt up, rip her panties off, and sink himself in all that warm, moist heat he’d found between her legs. And he didn’t particularly care whether the driver was watching while he did it.

Harper had never wanted anyone as badly as this, never felt such a bone-deep need. Not even for Jenny. The thought shamed him. Jenny was dead, she’d died leaving few to grieve her, just himself and her sister, and yet he couldn’t remember her face and now wanted another woman with more passion than he’d ever felt for her.

It’s the Sweet Ecstasy, Harper assured himself.

But the Sweet Ecstasy wouldn’t allow him to experience Drina’s pleasure, another part of his mind argued, and he’d definitely felt tingles race through his body when he’d extended his fingers and let the tips brush across her nipples. The first time had been an accident. He hadn’t realized his hand rested that close to her. But the excitement that had coursed through him had made him do it again, and more.

Perhaps it was just the excitement of what he was doing, combined with the Sweet Ecstasy. Because there was no way Drina was his life mate. He’d just lost one, and if there was one thing he’d learned, life wasn’t kind enough to throw him another so soon.

I am eating again, though,
Harper thought, his mouth tightening. But he’d already explained that away to himself satisfactorily . . . along with his eager libido. Both were just a result of his appetites being reawakened by Jenny, his true life mate. They simply hadn’t died with her death, they’d just been superseded by grief and depression for a while, but now he was getting out again and feeling better, and they were making their presence known once more. And Drina was a beautiful, sexy woman. Any man would desire her if he had the least interest in sex at all.

Oddly enough, while that explanation had sounded reasonable earlier in the day, it wasn’t sounding as reasonable to him at the moment. Especially since he’d never experienced this kind of passion with Jenny.

His mind immediately tried to shy away from that thought, but Harper forced it back. He hadn’t felt this depth of passion for her. He’d felt some, but she’d always kept him at arm’s length, never letting him even kiss her. So it had remained a seed, never blossoming like his desire for Drina had the moment his mouth had closed on hers.

The Sweet Ecstasy, he decided. That was the only thing that made sense. Only it could create a passion so overwhelming it surpassed what he’d experienced with his life mate.

Still, the excitement he’d felt when he’d touched Drina bothered him. He needed to test it, Harper decided. He needed to touch her without her touching him in return to confuse the matter. And he needed to do it somewhere normal and boring, where there was no chance that the situation and possibility of getting caught might inflame his passions.

His apartment, of course. There was nothing more pedestrian than an apartment or home. Certainly it was more pedestrian than a public booth or alley. Once they got to his place, he would calmly and methodically caress her and prove to himself that he wasn’t experiencing her pleasure. He would even avoid kissing her to ensure he wasn’t excited, he decided. At least, he would until he had reassured himself that he hadn’t been experiencing the shared pleasure that immortal couples raved on about.

It would be hard, Harper acknowledged with an inner grimace. He had two Sweet Ecstasies roiling through his blood, which wasn’t likely to make it easy. But he would prevail.

“Is this your building?”

Harper’s eyes refocused at Drina’s question, and he saw that the car was easing to a stop in front of his apartment building. Taking a breath, he nodded, and then opened the door before the driver could get out. He welcomed the frigid blast of air that hit him as he slid out of the vehicle, pulling Drina behind him. The arctic air would help to cool his ardor further, Harper assured himself, and didn’t rush to the building after closing the door to the car but moved through the swirling snow at a sedate pace.

Drina returned the smile the guard at the door gave them as they entered. Her gaze moved curiously over the large, luxurious lobby as Harper led her to the last of four elevators. She wasn’t surprised at the swank to the place. The man had arranged for a helicopter to pick them up for the evening. She’d already known he had money. Not that it mattered to her. She was no slouch in that area either. Her time as a privateer and some sensible—as well as a few lucky—investments since had ensured she would never need to worry about money.

The elevator was silent and fast, and it seemed like they’d barely entered before it was sliding to a halt at the top. Harper led her out into a hall, still holding her hand, and she glanced around, and then came to a stop as she realized they weren’t in a hall, but a foyer.

Harper turned, an eyebrow rising in question.

“I take it the whole floor is yours?” she asked wryly.

“Yes.” He smiled faintly. “That’s my private elevator.”

“Right,” Drina said with amusement. “And yet you stay at Casey Cottage with only a room to call your own?”

“It’s a nice room,” he said with a shrug, and added solemnly, “and all the wealth in the world isn’t as comforting as friends in times of need.” Harper then grinned, and said, “Besides, the rent for the room is cheap.”

Drina chuckled and pulled her hand free of his to remove her coat. The apartment was toasty warm, too warm for the coat. Harper quickly shrugged out of his own coat and moved to the closet to grab two hangers. He hung up his own, and then took hers, set it on the hanger, and hung it up as well. He closed the door and turned toward her, only to pause.

Drina’s eyebrows rose, and then she followed his attention to see that when she’d removed her coat, she’d tugged her gown off one shoulder, and it now hung down her arm, leaving a good portion of one red and black bra cup exposed. She almost tugged it back into place, but then just didn’t. Why bother? She didn’t plan to wear it long, she decided, and turned her gaze back to Harper, not at all surprised to see the silver coming back to life in his eyes. They had been almost pure green by the time they’d gotten into the elevator, all the earlier passion apparently washed out by the passing moments of the ride here, or perhaps the cold as they’d walked to the building. Now they were beginning to glow silver again, and it made relief course through her. He’d been so silent in the car, she’d worried—

Her thoughts scattered, and she held her breath as Harper suddenly closed the space between them. She expected him to take her into his arms and kiss her. At least it’s what she was hoping for, but instead he moved behind her. Drina started to turn, but he caught her shoulders and turned her himself, but so that her back was fully to him again.

“Look.”

Drina peered where he was pointing to see them reflected in the mirrored surface of the sliding closet doors: a tall, fair-haired man in a charcoal suit, and a shorter, dark-haired and olive-skinned woman in a black dress. The moment she was looking where he wanted, Harper’s hands slipped from her shoulders and she felt them at her back, and then her dress loosened as he slid the zipper down.

Drina swallowed, fighting the urge to turn to him again. He obviously didn’t want her to. She didn’t know why, but was willing to play along . . . for now, she decided.

His gaze met hers in the mirror again, and then his hands appeared, one at her shoulder and the other catching the already fallen arm of her dress and tugging both down until the dress dropped away to pool around her feet. It left her in the red and black lingerie and the thigh-high boots, and Drina had to admit she looked damned good. Hot even. A little like a dominatrix maybe, but still hot. She would have to thank Stephanie, she decided. That thought scattered when Harper skimmed his fingers lightly up her arms, raising goose bumps and making her shiver. She gave up her quiescence then and tried to turn, but Harper slid one arm around her waist, holding her in place.

“Watch,” he whispered by her ear, his breath bringing on another shiver.

Drina returned her attention dutifully to the mirror and forced herself to stay still. The moment she did, he began to move, his eyes burning as he withdrew his arm until his hand was flat on her stomach. He then raised it to slide over one breast as his other hand appeared to cover the other. Holding her that way, he pulled her back against his chest, his fingers beginning to knead and squeeze her through the flimsy material of her bra as he lowered his head to press a kiss to her neck.

Drina tilted her head back on a moan and covered his hands with hers to urge him on, but he stopped at once.

“No.”

She blinked her eyes open with confusion and met his gaze.

“Watch, don’t touch,” he growled by her ear.

Drina hesitated, but then let her hands drop again. The moment she did, he began to caress her once more through her bra, and then he let one hand drift away and slide down her belly and between her legs to cup her there. A groan rose from her throat, and Drina had to fight not to close her eyes and give in to the sensations his touch evoked. But she wanted to see now. The sight of his hands on her was incredibly erotic.

Harper continued to caress her through the silky red material for a moment, tweaking the nipple of the breast he held and rubbing her panties against her core until her breath was coming in little pants, and then he suddenly withdrew both hands to find the back of her bra. When it slipped away to join her dress on the floor, his hands replaced it, and Drina leaned her head back against his shoulder, watching through half-closed eyes as he fondled her.

“Beautiful,” he growled, biting her ear almost painfully.

Drina shook her head slightly though she couldn’t have said if it was in denial of the compliment or out of sheer frustration. She wanted to touch him, and being forced to stand there quiescent while he played with her was becoming unbearable.

“Harper,” she growled in warning, but froze as one of his hands suddenly slid down again, this time slipping inside her panties and between her legs to dip unerringly between her folds to find the bud hidden there.

She heard a sound halfway between a cry and a moan and realized it was coming from her, and then he withdrew his hands and moved in front of her. Drina immediately felt relief course through her, but before she could reach for him, he was urging her backward. She stepped out of the circle of her gown, but he continued to urge her back until she came up against a wall.

Harper then dropped to his haunches before her. Kneeling at her feet, he leaned forward to press a kiss to the skin above one boot. He then peered up the length of her body and watched her face as he reached for the waist of her panties and began to draw them down.

Drina stared back, lifting first one booted foot and then the other so he could remove the delicate cloth. He tossed it on her growing pile of clothes and moved his mouth to the skin above her other boot, this time licking along the rim to the inside of her thigh, his head forcing her legs farther apart before his mouth began to travel up.

“Harper,” she gasped, grabbing for his head as her legs began to tremble. He braced her with his hands at the backs of her thighs, using his hold to urge her legs even wider to allow his lips to travel farther up until he reached what he was searching for. The moment his mouth closed over her most tender spot, she cried out and threw her head back, damned near knocking herself out when it slammed into the wall.

Stars danced behind her closed eyes, but she didn’t get the chance to worry overmuch about it; Harper was pushing everything away with his actions, driving everything but pleasure from her mind and building the pressure until she was nearly sobbing with need.

Drina was teetering on the edge, wave after wave rolling through her and pushing at her when he suddenly straightened in front of her.

She blinked her eyes opened and peered at him, then grabbed for his shoulders when he suddenly caught her behind the legs and raised and spread them as he had in the alley. Pinning her against the wall with his body, Harper urged her to wrap her legs around his hips.

Instinct alone had Drina obeying the silent order. Certainly, she wasn’t capable of much in the way of thought. Her eyes slid past his shoulder to find their image in the mirror, and she saw that his coat jacket was gone, his shirt untucked, and his suit pants hanging low on his hips. She wondered when he’d removed the jacket and undone the pants, but then he was sliding into her, and she just didn’t care.

Drina cried out and closed her eyes, no longer interested in watching . . . or anything else outside of the force building inside her. The world could have crumbled and fallen away around them, and she wouldn’t have cared as he pounded into her, sending wave after irresistible wave of unbearable passion searing through her body and brain until it exploded bright and hot in her mind. It then receded, leaving darkness.

Drina woke to find herself sprawled naked in the silk sheets of a king-sized bed and alone. Sitting up, she peered around the darkened room, making out furniture, blackout blinds, and several doors, but no Harper.

Frowning, she slid her feet to the floor and stood up. She started toward the nearest door, hoping it led somewhere besides a closet, but stumbled on something on the floor and paused to glance down at her boots. She stared at them blankly for a moment, some part of her brain working out that Harper must have removed them for her while she was unconscious, and then continued forward again.

The first door she tried was an en suite bathroom. The second was a closet, but the third led out into a hall, and she padded down it on silent, bare feet, only pausing when it ended at a set of four steps down into a large open living room. Eyebrows climbing up her forehead, she ran her eyes over the huge fireplace, the elegant black and white furnishings, and the wall of windows that surely stretched fifteen or twenty feet to the ceiling at one end of the room. That’s where her gaze stopped.