Hotter After Midnight

Page 25

“I wanted you to stay here.” With him. Where he could keep an eye on her.
Colin stalked toward her. The woman had scared a good ten years off his life. He’d heard her scream, then the phone had disconnected.
He’d thought the Night Butcher had her.
He caught her chin in his hand. Forced her to look up, to meet his stare. “I meant what I said before, Em. Don’t scare me like that again.” Because the beast had come too close to the surface. It had taken every ounce of his control to fight the change.
And when he’d gone into her house, seen that guy with his hands on her—
The change had started. His bones had begun to snap. His claws to lengthen.
It had only been when he’d taken Emily into his arms that the beast had calmed. When he kissed her, held her, he’d regained his control.
Lucky for her neighbor. Otherwise, the guy would have found out what it was like to have an angry shifter attack.
“It’s not like I did it deliberately, you know,” Emily told him, and there was a faint bite to her tone. “I didn’t go out looking for some junior asshole to jump me.”
No, she hadn’t. But she had gone searching for a killer at the station without telling him. Which was about, oh, ten times worse in his book.
If he hadn’t glanced up as she ran from the room, Emily would have gone off alone.
And what would she have done if she’d actually managed to track the killer?
A cold fist seemed to squeeze his heart. Emily wasn’t like him. She didn’t have a shifter’s strength or a demon’s power.
She was human. Vulnerable. Weak. And right then, her vulnerability pissed him off.
“You have to be more careful.” He dropped his hand but couldn’t force himself to move back. Her scent was in the air, in his nostrils.
Emily arched a brow. “I’m not the cop. You’re the one who likes to play with danger every day, not me.” She sighed. “Damn.
Look, I don’t want to have this conversation right now, okay? I’m tired, my face hurts, and I just want to crawl into bed.” Emily turned away from him. Started to walk down the hall.
“Tell me about Serenity Woods.” He hadn’t meant to ask, not then, but the words just slipped out.
Emily stiffened. “We already talked about that.”
“Not enough we didn’t. Darla Mitchell was planning to do a story on you. On Serenity Woods. An exposé.”
She glanced back at him. “She wouldn’t have had any real proof. The story never would’ve aired.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she had an informer who fed her details about me, sure, but that person wouldn’t have gone public.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I visited my dear mother earlier today and warned her to stop talking to reporters.” One shoulder lifted, fell. “My mom’s a bit naive. She didn’t understand what she was doing when she spoke with Darla.”
She didn’t understand she was selling out her daughter? He didn’t press on that issue. Better save it for later. “So Darla didn’t have any other evidence?”
Emily turned to fully face him. “I had my little stay at Serenity Woods more than twenty years ago. The records room burned down about five years after I was released.”
“So no staff members could come forward and talk?” The cop in him just couldn’t shut off.
“There is such a thing as patient confidentiality, you know.”
“And I know that rule doesn’t apply to orderlies or janitors or secretaries or—”
Her hand lifted. “No one would talk.”
“You sure seem damn sure of that.”
“I am.” Her lips tightened. “The humans there were made to…forget my stay.”
Alarm bells rang in his head. “And just how did that nice trick happen?”
“The psychiatrist in charge of the facility, Dr. Catcherly, he wasn’t human. He was a level-six demon, strong enough to plant suggestions in people’s minds.”
“And he made the staff forget about you.”
“Yes.” Emily swallowed, balled her hands into fists. “I wasn’t crazy, you know. I just didn’t understand what was happening to me.
I tried to tell my mother, but she didn’t believe me. She thought I was having some kind of breakdown, like my dad.”
“Your dad?”
Emily shook her head. “His obituary in the paper said that he’d died in a hunting accident.” A short, bitter laugh tumbled past her lips. “But there was no accident. He picked up a gun, put it in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.”
Jesus. That detail sure hadn’t been in her background check.
“I was seven when I found him.” She swallowed. “I’d already started seeing things by then. And when my dad killed himself, my mom just…she didn’t want to hear that I was seeing things. She didn’t want me to be…like he was.”
Her husband had eaten his gun. Her kid was talking about seeing monsters. No wonder Emily had ended up in a psych ward.
“I just wanted her to believe me,” Emily whispered, “but I guess I was asking too much.”
He reached for her hand. Tightened his fingers around hers. “I understand.”
Her gaze met his. “I know you do.”
He pulled her closer. Lifted his left hand to stroke her lips. Such soft, sweet lips.
Her mouth parted on a gentle breath.
Keeping his eyes on hers, he lowered his head, brought his mouth to hers. Tasted her.
His tongue pushed into her mouth slowly. A long, deep thrust. Her tongue met his, sliding, stroking.
His cock tightened.
Hell, he’d been in a state of semiarousal ever since the kiss at her house. And having her in his arms again, feeling her mouth against his, her breasts against his chest, it was more temptation than he could handle.
His hand slid down the curve of her jaw, stroked her neck.
Emily pulled back, shaking her head. “Don’t treat me like this.”
What?
“I’m not some delicate flower.”
No, but she was a delicate human.
“I don’t want gentle and easy tonight.” She jerked off her shirt, tossed it onto the floor. “I want you to take me, your way. Hard.
Fast. And deep.”
The beast snarled in agreement.
“I want you to make me forget that murdering bastard out there. That punk kid. Everything. I just want to feel you.”
Colin jerked off his own shirt. “All you had to do was ask, baby.”
Emily’s green gaze swept down his body. She licked her lips, eyeing the erection that pressed against the front of his jeans.
Hunger pumped through him.
Emily pulled off her glasses, sat them near the TV. And slipped to her knees before him. “But before we get to the main event,” she whispered, “I think it’s my turn to touch you.”
Her fingers were rock steady as she reached for his jeans. A quick flick of her hand and the button unsnapped. The slow hiss of his zipper filled the air.
His cock sprang forward, lunging for her eager hands. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. Never did.
Her fingers skimmed over his cock. Stroked from base to head. Her breath blew over him, slightly cool, and so arousing he shuddered.
A drop of pre-cum appeared on the head of his penis. Emily murmured softly and rubbed her index finger over the liquid. She glanced up at him and brought her finger to her lips. Tasted him.
“Umm, nice.” She held his gaze a moment longer. “I like the way you taste.” Her mouth hovered over his cock. Her tongue snaked out, licked the bulbous head of his arousal.
Oh, fuck, yes.
Then she took him inside, all the way inside the warm cavern of her mouth. Sucking. Licking. And stroking with her hand.
Damn, but the doc knows exactly how to touch me.
He reached down, found the soft weight of her breasts and fondled her.
She gasped against him. Oh, that felt good.
So he did it again. Stroked her. Slid his fingers beneath her lacy bra and found her nipples. He squeezed lightly, applying just enough pressure.
Her mouth trembled around him as she moaned.
His cock swelled even more. He began to thrust against her mouth. Shallow thrusts, then deeper, harder.
Her mouth was wet, warm, so fucking perfect that his orgasm was already building, building…
Her lips tightened around him as she sucked harder.
“No!” He jerked away from her, his cock standing straight up.
Emily blinked up at him, her face flushed. “Didn’t you like—”
“Oh, hell, yeah, baby.” The woman had given him the best blow job of his life. “You wanted it my way, right?”
She licked her lips, nodded.
Damn. Seeing her on the floor, on her knees before him, was making him so fucking hungry for her. He was fighting the beast. The animal in him wanted her just as badly as the man.
Maybe it was her vulnerability that drew the beast. He smelled prey.
And as for the man…He smelled her sweet cream. And he wanted her.
“Take off the rest of your clothes.”
Emily pushed to her feet. Began to walk down the hall.
“No. In here.”
No way would he make it to the bedroom. He wanted her naked, open, and ready right then.
He sure as hell hoped that Emily had meant what she’d said. Because they were definitely about to fuck his way.
Emily kicked off her shoes. Pushed down her skirt. And he almost climaxed right then.
She was wearing a thin scrap of black lace and a garter belt. A garter belt. He’d seen those only in his dreams.
Who would have thought his button-downed little doc would have his dream underwear?
“Get on your hands and knees.” His voice was a guttural growl. More beast than man.
Emily tossed back her hair and damn if a come-hither smile didn’t curve her lips as she slowly crouched on the floor. She placed her hands deliberately and pressed her knees against the wooden floor. Her hair trailed over her back, a silken mass that he wanted to touch.
But not as much as he wanted to touch her.
Her hips arched, her perfect ass tilted in the air. “Is this what you wanted?”
Hell, yes.
His teeth were lengthening. He’d have to take care with her, have to—
“Then come take me.”
Fuck.
His control snapped.
Colin lunged for her, hitting the floor hard, but he didn’t care. His hands curled around her hips, and his mouth pressed against her back. He tasted her skin. Licked her and lightly bit her flesh.
Emily tossed back her head and lifted her hips. “Colin…” A demand.
He shoved his jeans all the way down. Forced her legs farther apart. Then trailed his fingers over the soft curve of her ass.
“What do you want, Emily? What do you want me to do?”
His hand slipped between the legs, found her warm, wet with arousal. He teased her, pushing his index finger just inside her small, tight opening, and rubbed his thumb against the center of her desire.
Her body stiffened. “Ah…God, yes!”
He pulled his finger back, drove it deep. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you inside me.”
He growled. Grabbed his cock with one hand. Reached for the foil packet in his pocket.
“No!” Emily twisted, glaring back at him. “I want to feel you. ”
And he sure as hell wanted to feel her. But they had to be careful, they couldn’t take any risks.
“Colin, I-I’m protected and I’m clean. And your kind—you don’t get sick anyway. So we don’t need to worry.” Her hips rolled against him. “This time, I just want you.”
His right hand clamped over her hips. Positioned her. He lodged the head of his erection against her opening, felt the warm, creamy welcome of her sex. “Then take me.”
He plunged deep in one smooth, hard thrust.
Emily arched beneath him.
He pulled back, drove to the hilt. Again. Again.
Emily’s hips were thrusting back against him, meeting him move for move. He was growling, she was moaning, the air was thick with the scent of their lovemaking.
Colin crouched over her, wrapping his body over hers as he thrust. Ah, damn, but she feels good. Tight. Hot. Wet.
So. Fucking. Perfect.
His hands covered hers. His nails sharpened.
Careful, careful—
His mouth found the curve of her throat. Licked. Sucked.
Her hips rolled against him, her sex squeezed. She was close to climaxing. He could feel the slight stiffening of her body that signaled her coming release.
His teeth pressed against her throat. He could feel her pulse beating. Faster. Faster. The blood was pounding just beneath the skin.
The edge of his canines raked against her.
Emily gasped, bucked beneath him. She came, her body shaking, squeezing his cock as she whispered his name.
He shifted, freeing her hands, pulling back just enough to grab her hips so that he could thrust, harder, harder…
His mouth stayed on her throat.
If she were his mate, he’d mark her again. A true mark. A mark of shared blood. Of bonding.
If she were his mate.
But she wasn’t. She was human. Human.
His balls tightened. His spine stiffened. He clenched his teeth, forced his mouth to move away from the sweet flesh of her throat.
His hands were tight upon her. His hips pistoned. Oh, damn, it’d never been like this before, never.
Colin came, pumping into her, shuddering, and spilling his seed in the hot depths of her body.
Moonlight spilled through the open window, fell onto the bed. Emily stretched slowly beneath the covers and turned onto her side, staring at Colin.