And determined to get inside her, even if it was only his tongue in her mouth.
Mary stared up into Rhage's electric blue eyes. She could swear they were blazing in the darkness, that teal light was actually coming out of them. She'd sensed a similar thing back in the parking lot.
The hair on the nape of her neck stood up.
"Don't worry about the glow," he said softly, as if he'd read her mind. "It's nothing."
"I don't understand you," she whispered.
"Don't try to."
He closed the distance between them, dipping low. His lips were soft as suede against hers, lingering, clinging. His tongue came out and stroked over her mouth.
"Open for me, Mary. Let me in."
He licked at her until she parted for him. As his tongue slid into her, the velvet thrust hit her right between the thighs, and she eased into his body, heat spearing her as her breasts met his chest. She grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to get closer to all that muscle and warmth.
She succeeded for only a moment. Abruptly, he put a space between their bodies, though he kept in contact with her lips. She wondered whether he still kissed her to hide the fact mat he'd retreated. Or maybe he was just trying to cool her out a little, like she was too aggressive or something?
She turned her head to the side.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "You're into this."
"Yeah, well, not enough for the both of us."
He stopped her from stepping away by refusing to let go of her neck.
"I don't want to stop, Mary." His thumbs caressed the skin of her throat and then pressed into her jaw and angled her head back. "I want to get you hot. Hot enough so you don't feel anything but me. So you don't think of anything but what I'm doing to you. I want you liquid."
He dropped and took her mouth, going in deep, taking her over. He searched all her corners until there was no interior place he hadn't explored. Then he changed the kiss, retreating and advancing, a rhythmic penetration that got her wetter and even more ready for him.
"That's it, Mary," he said against her lips. "Let yourself go. God, I can smell your passion… You are
exquisite
."
His hands drifted down, going under the lapels of her coat, on to her collarbones. Good lord, she was lost to him. If he'd told her to lose her clothes, she would have stripped. If he'd told her to get on the ground and spread her legs, she would have hit the grass for him. Anything. Anything he wanted, just as long as he never stopped kissing her.
"I'm going to touch you," he said. "Not enough, not nearly enough. But a little…"
His fingers moved over her cashmere turtleneck, going lower and lower and—
Her body jerked as he found both of her tight nipples.
"So ready for me," he murmured, plucking them. "I wish I could take them into my mouth. I want to suckle on you, Mary. Would you let me do that?"
His palms flattened and he took the weight of her breasts.
"Would you, Mary, if we were alone? If we were in a nice warm bed? If you were naked for me? Would you let me taste these?" When she nodded, he smiled fiercely. "Yeah, you would. Where else would you like my mouth?"
He kissed her hard when she didn't answer. "
Tell me
."
Her breath left in a wordless rush. She couldn't think, couldn't speak.
He took her hand and put it around one of his.
"Then show me, Mary," he said into her ear. "Show me where you want me to go. Lead me. Go on. Do it."
Unable to stop herself, she took his palm and put it on her neck. In a slow sweep, she brought it back to her breast. He purred his approval and kissed the side of her jaw.
"Yeah, there. We know you want me to go there. Where else?"
Mindless, out of control, she drew his hand down to her stomach. Then over to her hip.
"Good. That's good." When she hesitated, he whispered, "Don't stop, Mary. Keep going. Show me where you want me to go."
Before she lost her nerve, she put his hand between her legs. Her loose skirt gave way, letting him in, and a moan broke out of her at the feel of his palm flat against her core.
"Oh, yeah, Mary. That's right." He rubbed her and she gripped his thick biceps, her head falling back. "God, you're burning alive. Are you wet for me, Mary? I think you are. I think you're covered with honey…"
Needing to touch him, she shoved her hands into his jacket and onto his waist, feeling the raw, somewhat frightening power of his body. But before she could get far, he pulled her arms out and held her wrists in one hand. He clearly wasn't stopping, though. He pressed her backward with his chest, until she felt the solid trunk of a tree against her shoulder blades.
"Mary, let me make you feel good." Through her skirt, his fingers probed and found the pleasure spot. "I want to make you come. Right here, right now."
As she cried out, she realized she was on the verge of orgasm and he was utterly detached, an engineer of her lust who felt nothing himself: His breathing was even, his voice was steady, his body was unaffected.
"No," she groaned.
Hal's hand stopped the rubbing. "What?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Instantly, he backed off. And while he stood calmly in front of her, she tried to catch her breath.
His easy acquiescence hurt, but she wondered why he'd done what he had. Maybe he got off on the control. Hell, making some woman pant all over herself must be a terrific power trip. And it would explain why he wanted to be with her and not those sexy types. A not-so-attractive woman would be easier to remain distant from.
Shame constricted her chest.
"I want to go back," she said, about to start crying. "I want to go home."
He took a deep breath. "Mary—"
"If you even think of apologizing, I'm going to be sick—"
Suddenly, Hal frowned, and she started to sneeze.
God, for some reason, her nose was tingling like all get out. Something was in the air. Sweet. Like laundry detergent. Or baby powder, maybe?
Hal's hand bit into her upper arm. "Get on the ground. Right now."
"Why? What's—"
"
Get on the ground
." He shoved her down to her knees. "Keep your head covered."
Wheeling around, he planted himself in front of her, feet wide apart, hands up in front of his chest. From between his legs, she watched two men come out from a stand of maple trees. They were dressed in black fatigues, their pale skin and hair gleaming in the moonlight. The menace they threw off made her realize how far into the park she and Hal had wandered.
She fumbled around in her purse for her cell phone and tried to convince herself she was overreacting.
Yeah, right.
The men split apart and attacked Hal from both sides, coming fast and low over the ground. She shouted in alarm, but Hal… holy Moses, did Hal know what he was doing. He lunged to the right and grabbed one of them by the arm, flipping the guy on to the ground. Before the man could get up, Hal stomped on his chest, nailing him down. The other attacker ended up in a choke hold, kicking and thrashing, gasping for air, getting nowhere fast.
Grim, deadly, Hal was in control of himself, at ease in the violence. And his cold, calm expression disturbed the hell out of her, even as she was grateful he'd saved them.
She found her phone and started dialing 911, thinking he could clearly hold the two while the police came.
She heard a sickening crack.
Mary looked up. The man who'd been in the choke hold fell to the ground, his head hanging from his neck at a totally wrong angle. He did not move.
She scrambled to her feet. "What have you done!"
Hal took a long, black-bladed knife out of somewhere and loomed over the man he'd had his boot on. The guy was scrambling across the ground to get away.
"No!" She jumped in front of Hal.
"Get back." His voice was eerie. Flat. Totally unconcerned.
She took hold of his arm. "Stop it!"
"I have to finish—"
"I'm not going to let you kill another—"
Someone grabbed her roughly by the hair and whipped her off her feet. Just as another man in black attacked Hal.
Pain shot through her head and neck and then she landed on her back, hard. The impact knocked the breath out of her, and stars burst into her vision like firecrackers. She was struggling to get air into her lungs when her arms were wrenched up and she was dragged away. Fast.
Her body banged against the ground, her teeth clapping together. She lifted her head even though it sent needles up and down her spine. What she saw was a horrible relief. Hal was throwing yet another lifeless body onto the grass and coming after her at a dead run. His thighs ate up the distance, jacket flaring out behind him, dagger in his hand. His eyes were a screaming blue in the night, like xenon headlights on a car, and his big body was nothing but death waiting for a place to happen.
Thank God.
But then another man launched himself onto Hal's back.
As Hal fought off the guy, Mary called on her self-defense training, twisting herself until her attacker had to reposition his grip. When she felt his fingers loosen, she yanked as hard as she could. He turned and recaptured her quickly, but with a less sure hold. She pulled again, forcing him to stop and pivot around.
She cringed, ready to get hit, but hoped at least she'd allowed Hal some time to catch up.
Except there was no blow coming down at her. Instead a howl of pain erupted from the man, and her abductor fell on her, a heavy, smothering weight. Panic and terror gave her the strength to heave him off.
His body rolled over limply. Hal's dagger was through the man's left eye.
Too shocked to scream, Mary surged to her feet and took off as fast as she could go. She was sure she would be caught again, convinced she was going to die.
But then the glow from the lights of the restaurant finally came into view. When she felt the parking lot's asphalt underfoot, she wanted to weep in gratitude.
Until she saw Hal in front of her. As if he'd appeared out of nowhere.
She skidded to a halt, panting, dizzy, unable to comprehend how he'd gotten back before her. As her knees gave out, she caught herself on a random car.
"Come on, let's go," he said roughly.
In a cold rush, she remembered the snap of a man's neck. And the black blade through the attacker's eye. And Hal's calm, vicious control.
Hal was… death. Death in a beautiful package.
"Get away from me." She tripped over her own feet and he reached out for her. "No! Don't touch me."
"Mary—"
"
Stay away from me
." She backed toward the restaurant, hands raised to ward him off. For what little good that would do against him.
Hal tracked her, moving with powerful shifts of his arms and legs. "Listen to me—"
"I need…" She cleared her throat. "I need to call the police."
"No, you don't."
"We were attacked! And you… killed someone. People. You killed people. I want to call the—"
"This is private business. The cops can't protect you. I can."
She stopped, a nasty shot of truth putting who he was into sharp focus. Everything made sense. The menace he hid behind the charm. His utter lack of fear as they got jumped. His determination not to involve the police. God, the fact that he'd cracked a man's head loose with such ease, like he'd done it before.
Hal didn't want her to call 911 because he was on the other side of the law. No less a thug than the men who'd gone after them.
She grabbed under her arm to hold her purse, about to make another run for it. And realized her bag was gone.
Hal cursed, quick and hard. "You lost your purse, didn't you?" He looked around. "Listen, Mary, you need to come with me."
"The hell I do."
She made a break for the restaurant, but Hal leaped in front of her, blocking the way, taking her arms.
"I'll scream!" She eyed the parking-lot attendants. They were probably thirty yards away. "I'll scream my head off."
"You're life's in danger, but I can protect you. Trust me."
"I don't know you."
"Yes, you do."
"Oh, you're right. You're handsome, so you can't possibly be evil."
He jabbed his finger toward the park. "I saved you out there. You wouldn't be alive right now if it weren't for me."
"Fine. Thanks a hell of a lot. Now leave me alone!"
"I don't want to do this," he muttered. "I really don't."
"Do what!"
He passed his hand in front of her face. And suddenly she couldn't remember what she was so teed off about.
Chapter Nineteen
