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Authors: Kathy Love

BOOK: Devilishly Sexy
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She met his gaze, telling herself not to flinch, not to react in any way.
“You are a pretty girl,” the man repeated, his bleary gaze moving over her again. And this time there was no denying the hunger there—and it was menacing.
This man intended to do something awful to her. And she had to get away.
She struggled again, but that only made the man wrench her closer. His hulking girth pinned her to the wall, and he leaned in, his foul breath panting excitedly in her face.
“I like a little fight in a lady.”
He ducked in closer and she turned her head, trying to get as far away from his mouth as her trapped position would allow.
She made a noise, struggling again, as she felt his breath, damp and fetid, on the skin of her cheek and neck.
Then it was gone. She slapped her hands against the wall, almost falling as his heavy weight was abruptly removed, disorienting her for a moment.
But then her all her focus was on the scene before her. Two men grappling. Actually, not exactly. One man beating the crap out of another.
It took her a moment to realize it was Michael. Michael twisted quickly, somehow jerking the other man’s bulky weight around so Michael had him pinned to the wall. The jerk’s face smashed against the wall, his arm wrenched behind his back. The whole thing was done so quickly and easily that Liza could only blink, stunned. And Michael did it with very little effort. In fact he didn’t even seem to be out of breath.
The other guy wasn’t as fortunate. He gasped for air as if Michael’s shove had knocked the breath from his lungs.
“What the fuck, man,” the hulk sputtered after a second.
“I think I should be the one asking that,” Michael said, his voice low and ominous.
Chapter Sixteen
“T
his is just a stupid misunderstanding,” the man said, but Michael clearly didn’t buy it. Michael shoved the man’s arms upward at a painful angle.
The man cried out, and remained totally still.
“Do you have a—cell phone?”
Liza blinked, realizing Michael was speaking to her. She nodded, but didn’t move to find it. She was still too stunned by what she’d seen, too amazed that a mailroom clerk would have the moves of a seasoned law enforcement or military man.
“Liza? Do you have a cell phone?”
She blinked again, but managed to respond to his gentle tone. A tone so different from the one he’d used with the jerk.
“I—um, yeah.” She began to fumble in her purse, her hands still shaking from the whole event.
“Call the police,” he said, his voice still quiet, yet threatening again. Not to her, she knew, but the sound still gave her chills.
She finally found her cell, but her fingers were numb and she couldn’t seem to make the touch screen work.
“Don’t call the cops, man,” the big man pleaded, not sounding nearly so menacing now. “I’m on probation, man.”
“You should have thought about that before you tried to attack a lady. My lady.”
Liza stopped her efforts to get her phone to work, startled by Michael’s words. She supposed he was being possessive to make this slimy guy feel extra intimidated, but even as shaken as she was, a warm feeling permeated her fear-chilled limbs.
The man made another attempt to yank free of Michael’s hold, but Michael subdued him with an efficiency that made Liza think he’d done this sort of thing before. That he was trained in combat. And he was good.
“Did you find it?” Michael asked over his shoulder.
She nodded, her hands still shaking as she tried to bring up the call screen.
“Seriously, dude, I won’t come near you two again. You won’t even see me,” the scumbag pleaded.
Michael wrenched his arms again, hard. “And why should I trust you?”
“I’m serious, man,” the jerk insisted. “I will stay the hell away from you.”
Michael glanced over his shoulder at Liza. “Should I trust him?”
Liza didn’t know. The man sure as heck looked and sounded scared, but given the hold Michael had him in, she was pretty sure the guy knew Michael could really hurt him.
Liza knew they should report him, since he could do this to someone else. But she really just wanted the situation to be over. He hadn’t actually hurt her—although she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have if Michael hadn’t stopped him.
Then there was the added issue of the return of Boris. She didn’t think she could handle giving a police report with Michael
and
Boris there. Boris would be asking questions nonstop about this situation, and she couldn’t act normal with that going on. And she really did want to have a few moments with Michael to tell him she’d changed her mind about dating him. Maybe that was selfish—and not socially conscious—but it was the truth.
“I think he’s learned his lesson,” she said.
She saw the man slump with relief, but then Michael jerked his arms again and the man moaned.
“I’m not sure.”
“Dude,” the guy pleaded, but quieted again at another tug of his arms.
They all fell silent. Then Michael glanced over his shoulder at her again.
“Why are you here, Liza?”
Her gaze moved to the hulk still pressed against the wall, surprised at the sudden shift in conversation and also feeling a little awkward discussing this in front of the jerk.
“I—” She looked at the man again. “I wanted to see you and tell you I’m sorry about how I acted today.”
Michael frowned. “Well, you certainly didn’t have to come here to tell me that. It could have waited until Monday at work.”
Liza supposed that was true, if that was all she’d wanted to tell him. But now she wasn’t sure what to say.
“I—I guess you are right.”
The man shifted, and Michael pushed him harder against the wall, yanking his arm up higher.
“Fuck,” the man groaned. “I’m not trying to do anything. Shit.”
“Just hold still and I won’t have to pop your shoulders right out of the sockets,” Michael warned, that quietly threatening tone back in his voice. “I haven’t made up my mind what to do with you yet.”
The man moaned again, but remained still.
“So how did you get my address?” Michael asked, looking back at Liza, his manner conversational again.
“I thought you were a couple,” the jerk said, and Liza wondered if he was just that clueless. Michael had told him not to move and she was pretty sure that included his mouth too.
As if to validate Liza’s thoughts, Michael ordered him to be quiet. “This conversation is none of your business.” His attention returned to Liza, and he raised an eyebrow quizzically.
“I got it from Elton. I—I hope that is okay.”
“It’s fine. It’s just not the best area to be wandering around alone.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Liza said, looking pointedly at his neighbor.
Michael jerked the man’s arm just slightly, and the man moaned again.
“So you came here just to apologize,” Michael said, that gentle, kind tone returning.
Liza shook her head, but then didn’t say anything more.
“Well, go on,” Michael urged, his voice soft, but coaxing rather than harsh. She liked that tone. It was sexy and somehow exciting.
“I—I wanted to see you tonight, because—” She couldn’t admit this now, in front of the man who’d had nefarious plans for her.
“Because?”
She looked sheepishly at the man, silently trying to tell Michael she wasn’t willing to talk in front of this stranger.
Michael frowned, but she wasn’t sure he understood what her look meant.
“I would rather talk to you alone,” she explained.
“Oh please,” the jerk said, “don’t let me interrupt your private moment. Hell, I’d be very happy to leave you two alone.”
His words ended with a groan, as Michael shoved him harder against the wall.
“This is your lucky day.” Michael leaned in to whisper to the man. “I’m going to let you go, but if I see you anywhere near my apartment. Or if I hear of you bothering any other person, anyone at all, then we are going to have a very real issue. Do you understand?”
The man made a grunting noise, but nodded his head.
“Good,” Michael said, his voice still holding that menacing quality that sent chills down her spine. She could only imagine what it would feel like to have it directed at her.
She hoped she never would.
Again, she wondered how Michael knew the moves he’d used to pin this large man in place. It didn’t seem like a skill a man would need to work in the mailroom, but then again, she didn’t know how long he’d been with the mailroom and she didn’t know what he’d done before that.
“I hope you realize that I’m not kidding around,” Michael stated.
“I totally get it,” the man assured him.
Michael held him a moment longer, then released him with a shove toward his own place.
The man stumbled, but caught himself before he fell to his knees. He then walked away, rotating his shoulders as he went. He didn’t even glance at them as he disappeared into his apartment.
“Do you really think he’ll behave himself?” Liza asked once the jerk was in his apartment with the door closed.
“I think he will if he’s smart.”
Liza couldn’t disagree with that. She wouldn’t want to tangle with Michael. Not when he was in attack mode, that was for sure.
He turned his full attention to her. “You want to talk?”
She nodded, feeling apprehensive again. What if he had decided his offer no longer stood, and he didn’t want to date?
She watched nervously as he stepped forward and unlocked his apartment door.
“Come on in,” he said, pushing the door open, so she could slip past him and step inside.
Chapter Seventeen
“I
t’s not great, but it’s okay for now.”
Michael didn’t like Liza seeing how he was living. A run-down, dingy apartment and scary, ex-con neighbors. Yeah, this wasn’t a way to make a positive impression.
Her expression didn’t exactly hide the fact that she did find his apartment a bit squalid. She wandered into the center of the room, her eyes roaming over the worn furniture and lack of décor.
“How long have you been here?” she asked.
“Just a few weeks or so,” he said. “A friend actually located this for me, but I don’t plan on staying here long. Especially after tonight.”
Liza nodded, and he could see her face was still pale. She clutched the strap of her purse as if it was a lifeline or something. Slowly she walked over to the threadbare sofa. She seemed shaky as she sat down on the edge.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded too quickly. “I’m fine. Just very glad you showed up when you did.”
He was glad too. Things could have gone very differently, and the idea of the man touching Liza, possibly hurting her, made him furious.
So mad, it actually shocked him. He’d managed to keep his anger in check, but the idea of someone hurting Liza made him want to lash out. He couldn’t understand his possessiveness, and at this moment, he didn’t care to analyze it. He was just glad she was safe.
“So you said you wanted to talk to me.”
She still clutched her purse, and her color didn’t look much better, but she nodded, although she didn’t speak for a few moments. When she did, he didn’t immediately understand what she was asking.
“Have you had some formal training?”
“Training?”
“Combat training, or something like that?” she said. “It’s just that you subdued that man so quickly, and you clearly knew the best position to keep him in, so he couldn’t fight.”
“Oh.” He was kind of surprised she’d noticed that. The move wasn’t anything too advanced, just a common enough restraint. But maybe she didn’t expect a mailroom clerk to have fighting skills. Wasn’t that exactly why the mailroom was a good cover? No one expected mailroom staff to be out of the ordinary in any way.
Suddenly he didn’t want her considering his behavior too closely. Nor did he want her to mention this to anyone in the mailroom. He’d already brought enough attention to himself.
“Yes, a little,” he said, then changed the subject. “Can I get you a drink? You look like you could use it.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “That would be nice.”
He nodded too and walked over to the kitchenette that took up one small corner of the room.
“All I have is beer.” He opened a dorm room–sized fridge and pulled out two beers.
“That’s fine,” she said. He crossed over to her, unscrewed the cap on one, and handed it to her.
“Thank you.” She glanced at the bottle, making a slight face. Probably another who didn’t drink Pabst either, but then she took a sip. Then another.
“So what kind of training?” she asked.
Boy, she didn’t want to let that one go, did she?
“I’ve done several martial arts,” he said, which was true. “Karate, kung fu.”
“Because everybody was kung fu fighting,” Liza said with a slight smile.
Michael smiled back, glad to see some humor on her face. “Exactly.”
After a short pause he asked, “Are you really okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said with a shaky smile. “A little stunned, but glad things didn’t go any worse.”
He studied her for a moment. “Me too. It’s lucky I decided to make an early night of it.”
She nodded, then took another sip of her beer.
“So you said you came here to talk about something,” he said, when it appeared as if she wasn’t going to say anything more.
She glanced up from her beer bottle, which seemed to be infinitely fascinating.
“Yes.” She sounded uncertain again, but then when he thought he was going to have to prompt her to talk, she just blurted out, “I want to date you too.”
He stared at her for a second, not sure exactly what that meant. Had she changed her mind?
But before he could ask, she added, “I mean, I realize I probably blew my chance with the way I acted in the office, but I wasn’t prepared for what you said. And now that I’ve had time to think—with a somewhat clearer head—I know I want to date you too.”
“Are you sure? Because honestly, you seemed pretty set against—well, anything to do with me.”
“I know. I was worried that it might be hard for us to see each other. Finola White doesn’t approve of interoffice dating, so we’d have to be very careful about it.”
“Okay,” Michael said without hesitation. After all, it was unlikely Eugene or The Brethren would approve of a slayer dating someone who worked directly for Finola White and
HOT!
That could be dangerous.
And that was exactly why he shouldn’t be agreeing to keep this relationship a secret. He should not be agreeing to the relationship period.
But again, he ignored what was sensible, because the drive to be with this woman was so strong. Even now, realizing she wouldn’t pull away from him, he wanted to cross the room and kiss her. He’d wanted to hold her from the moment they’d walked into the apartment. He’d wanted to hold her after that creep’s attempted attack. He knew he’d probably agree to whatever way she wanted to date.
“You—you are okay with that?” she asked, and he couldn’t tell if she was pleased or nervous about his agreement.
“I think it’s wise. And in truth, it isn’t anyone’s business but ours.” It definitely wasn’t Eugene’s business.
She nodded, then looked back at her beer bottle as if she still wasn’t sure.
“Liza, this can work.” He crossed over to her. He set down his untouched beer and reached for her, pulling her up. He wrapped her in his arms, the way he’d wanted to since he’d spotted her standing in his hallway, relieved that she didn’t pull away. In fact she curled around him as if she’d wanted him to hold her this whole time too.
He tightened his embrace, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He didn’t know how this would work. Or if it would work, but he was going for it.
Liza sighed, sinking against his warm, broad chest. She’d wanted to feel him against her again, from the moment she’d left him after they’d made love. She nestled her head against him, feeling safe. A false sense she knew. But he’d rescued her tonight, and although he couldn’t ultimately save her from her fate, her possession, for a little while she wanted to pretend he could.
She didn’t know how they were going to pull this off. But she couldn’t stay away. She knew that.
“It’s so strange, but I just can’t seem to stay away from you. I knew this would be complicated and dangerous”—she paused, realizing he might find “dangerous” an odd way to term it—“I mean dangerous because we could lose our jobs.”
“I have no fear of Finola White,” he assured her, his hand caressing down her back. She shivered, losing herself to the feeling of his hands moving over her. But his wording did eventually seep past the haze of contentment his delicious touch created.
Did he realize Finola White was a creature to fear? Did he know what Finola actually was?
She doubted it. He was new to Finola White Enterprises. And as far as she knew, no one would sell their soul to work in the mailroom. Nor would demons lower themselves to work down there.
He was probably just stating his feelings. And while Liza knew the situation was very dangerous, and what the real danger could be, she wasn’t afraid of Finola either.
At least not here.
She lifted her head and he did too. Their eyes held, and then they were kissing. An intense, passionate kiss as if both of them had longed for this. Liza knew she had.
“I’m so glad you changed your mind,” he murmured against her lips.
She nodded slightly, unable to speak, just wanting to kiss him some more. He readily obliged her, his lips moving over hers, kissing her senseless.
Only when she nearly dropped the bottle, forgotten in her hand, did she break off the kiss. Michael smiled, taking the beer from her and placing it beside his on the rickety coffee table. Then he reached for her again, this time taking her hand.
She didn’t hesitate as he led her toward his bed, a full-sized mattress and box spring on a metal frame. Truthfully it could have been a blanket on the bare floor for all Liza cared, or the bare floor itself for that matter. She just wanted to be in his arms, feeling his hands moving over her skin, his lips against hers, against her bare flesh.
He stopped at the edge of the bed and kissed her again.
“I know I said we should date,” he murmured after a moment, his forehead resting against hers as if he didn’t want to break their touch.
Liza understood what he was saying. They both knew they were headed back to bed, but he wanted to make sure it was okay with her first.
“We can have dinner or a movie next time,” she said, her fingers moving to the buttons of his shirt.
He smiled at that, a crooked, pleased, breathtaking smile.
“Definitely next time,” he agreed.
“Definitely,” she said, smiling back. Then she parted his shirt and kissed his bare chest. She pushed the garment off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.
He gasped as her tongue lapped his nipple. She licked him more as her fingers moved to his belt, working the buckle open. She felt very forward, undressing him so aggressively, but it also felt wonderfully liberating.
And maybe the adrenaline left over from being attacked in the hallway was making her bold. Or maybe she simply wanted this man more than she had ever wanted anyone.
Maybe it was all of it. But whatever the reason, she did feel more daring, more wanton, than she ever had before in her life.
She pushed down his jeans and boxers, and he toed off his boots and kicked the crumpled jeans aside. Standing before her naked, he really was the vision of perfection. Muscles, smooth skin, a face that would make most male models jealous. Other powerful, perfect parts of him ...
“You are like Michael,” she suddenly realized.
He smiled. “I’m not like Michael. I am Michael.”
She laughed. “I know. I mean, you look like the paintings of the archangel Michael. Strong, powerful, and yet almost achingly beautiful.”
Michael gazed at her for a moment, then offered her another crooked smile, although this one seemed almost embarrassed. “I’m definitely not an archangel. Or an angel of any sort. But I’m pleased you see me that way. Because like Michael, I will always act as your protector.”
She stepped forward to touch him, his skin warm and smooth under her fingers. Golden and heavenly. She didn’t know if he could truly be her protector, but he had saved her tonight. And more than that, he’d saved her from the misery she’d been living in.
That alone made him an angel to her.
She reached up and kissed him sweetly, a kiss of gratitude, but he quickly shifted that touch, deepening the kiss.
Soon he had her clothing off and pooled around her on the ground.
They stood naked in each other’s arms, again kissing and touching, their exploration somehow slow and desperate all at once. Almost like they had to memorize each other’s bodies.
“This is torture,” Michael finally groaned against the sensitive flesh just below her ear. The vibration of his voice, the heat of his breath, the brush of his lips sent shock waves straight through her body. Desire, warm and tingly, pooled deep in her belly, moving lower and lower.
She nodded her agreement. It was torture. Delicious torture.
“I have to feel you under me,” he whispered and again she nodded.
Yes, she needed that too.
He scooped her up and placed her on the bed. Liza was always one of the tallest women in a room, but in Michael’s arms she felt petite. Tiny. Fragile.

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