Touch of Evil (32 page)

He smiled at me, a teasing grin. "You've never done this before, have you?"

I didn't know what he meant. "I'm not a virgin, Tom."

He shook his head. "That's not what I meant. You've never made love with the lights on before, have you?" He used his free hand to slide down the satin to cup my breast and squeeze it, making it so I couldn't speak. My nipples were just suddenly hard and visible through the fabric. "You've never watched a man make your body react. Never

watched the reflection of your own climax in his eyes. Hmm?"

My mouth was suddenly dry. He was right. Sex was, well, it was for the dark. It wasn't a daylight activity. Or, at least, it hadn't been for Mike or for Dylan, and they were my only experiences. They were both like me—close the doors, shut out the lights, and grope.

"I . . . um, isn't your pack a matriarchal society?

Aren't I supposed to be in charge?" The best defense is a good offense.

His look was still teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness I didn't understand. He nodded and the transformation to serious was complete, even though his hand remained firmly on my breast. "Yes. You are supposed to be in charge, Kate. You're supposed to be the leader. Unfortunately, you haven't got a clue what that means."

I felt cool air on my tongue, which told me my jaw had dropped. "I know what it means, Tom." He shook his head and thrust his hips upward, making me gasp. "No you don't, Kate. You wear your Not Prey status like a shield, or some sort of invisibility cloak. You leap into battle without consulting anyone, or even thinking about the consequences. That's not leading. That's just plain pig-headedness and foolhardy to boot." His hand released my wrist and slid in between my legs. I nearly lost my balance as his finger rubbed me through the cotton. I didn't like what he was saying, but oh man—how he was saying it!

"You need to know the talents of the people around you, and utilize them to your advantage." He thrust upward with his hips again, while both hands were moving simultaneously on very sensitive spots. I couldn't seem to catch my breath as I replied.

"I do utilize people's talents. But usually I'm better at them than they are."

He raised his brows and removed both of his hands. He steepled his fingers just under his lip.

"Yeah? So prove it. Teach me how to use my talents to please you. Do yourself up proud while I watch and learn."

I blushed to the roots of my hair. Surely he didn't expect me to—"That's not what I meant, Tom." His eyes were serious, but his hands moved to my thighs. "But don't you see, Kate? That's what being in charge is. You don't know what other people are capable of, because you don't know what you're capable of. You keep throwing yourself into the void, hoping against hope that you'll pull out a miracle at the last second." He slid his hands up the gown and repeatedly flicked both nipples through the satin until they were hard as pebbles and I was groaning weakly.

"But you're not going to change your entire mindset tonight. So, I'm in charge until you learn how." Then he sat up and put his open mouth on one breast while that hand dropped to my panties again. He licked and sucked through the fabric until I could barely think, while his hand teased the skin on the edges of the elastic between my legs.

"Tom, I . . . Oh, God! " I shouted as he suddenly inserted one finger inside me and moved his face up to kiss me deeply. All I could think to do was hold onto his forearms so I didn't fall over while his hips rocked me up and down on his finger and his thumb toyed with my nub.

The next thing I knew he had leaned back and removed his hands from me. With blazing heat in his gaze, he lifted the nightshirt up, exposing my breasts. "While I really like the slick-wrapping, I want your skin against mine— now. Arms up." I obeyed and he pulled the gown off of me.

Before I could bring my arms back down, Tom had wrapped his arms around my back and was

alternately nipping and sucking both of my breasts, licking along the permanent tan lines from longforgotten, bikini-clad summers on the beach. His hips pressed against me urgently.

I ran my fingers through his hair and made noises I didn't know I could make. He leaned back just enough to ask, "Do you really like these panties?" I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. I had a sneaking suspicion what he meant, and the thought excited me more deeply than I'd expected. His mouth found mine and his tongue explored my teeth and gums as I felt his hands snake down my body to the tiny little spaghetti strap bikini bottoms I wore. Part of me knew, or hoped, this might happen. The slim piece of fabric was no match for his strength and I heard each of the straps rip in turn. He leaned back far enough to slowly, ever so slowly, pull the cloth from under me. I was completely naked over him and wanted him that way too.

I scooted up his body just a bit so he could pull his pants and briefs down and kick them off. I explored his chest and his nipples while he did, and it made him smile darkly.

It wasn't until I felt his erection pressing at my back did I remember. "You should know, Tom. I'm sterile. I can never have children."

He raised his brows. "And yet you're on birth control. Interesting."

"How—?" But then I remembered that he had been in my bathroom to get bandages, and I hadn't bothered to put away the prescriptions from the pharmacy. "It's a hormone imbalance. I apparently inherited it from my mother. Birth control is just a handy side effect. But useless in my case."

"So, in either event, we're safe." His smile was teasing, challenging as his fingers began to stroke my nipple again.

"Not from Mary," I gasped. "She warned me to stay away from you."

The chuckle was as dark as his smile. "Not doing too well, are you?" He lifted my hips without any effort and hovered my entire body over his groin. I could feel the throbbing erection push against me, making my head spin. I needed him inside me. I was wet and hungry and wanted him—Heaven

help me, how I wanted him. I tried to pull myself down, but he wouldn't let me.

"Don't worry. I'll handle Mary. You just worry about handling . . . me." He dropped me and the full length of him impaled me like a spear. I cried out from sheer pleasure as he filled me completely. He was thick and long and every moaning thrust turned my insides into jelly. I felt a tightening that was both thrilling and frightening in its intensity. It had been so very long since I'd done this.

I leaned forward, changing the angle, and rested my hands on the bed above Tom's shoulders. The scent of him was amazing. His cologne, the musk of his sweat and something in his hair. It combined to create an odor that affected my brain like a drug. I leaned down more and breathed in along his neck and exhaled harshly into his ear. He let out a deep groan and tightened his grip, moving his hands down my waist. He grabbed my hips and drove himself inside me. Just when I thought I was ready to climax, he pushed me backward, and backward, and backward, until I was nearly lying prone on the bed. He held my waist tightly while he stroked relentlessly in and out of me. It was almost too much. I was so very close and couldn't even think. Bright white light filled my vision and I screamed, needing release. He pulled me forward until I was upright again, without ever missing a single beat. My eyes were closed, enjoying the sensation in the quiet darkness behind the lids.

"Look at me, Kate. I want to see that this isn't just for tonight. I want to see something deeper in your eyes than just lust." He slowed his movements, just when I needed him to speed up. I opened my eyes with panic. Once his gaze had caught me, I couldn't look away. And I could see my own

reflection in the dark pupils. I could see every movement we made—from his hands on my

breasts to his hips thrusting up and into me. Faster and faster he moved, while I watched like a voyeur. He dropped one hand and started to toy with me while he slapped against me harder. I was so wet that there was a sucking sound with each stroke.

It was almost too much I was so very close. I threw back my head to let myself go, but he pulled me back. "No, Kate. I want to see. You're gorgeous and so sexy I can hardly stand it. I want to take you further than you've ever gone with anyone else, because I seem to have fallen in love with you."

I watched my own wild-eyed gaze in his pupils and realized that I very might well be in love with him, too.

His movements were finally too much and I

nearly shrieked as I dug my nails into his arms.

"Tom!" The orgasm took me by surprise, pulling a second scream from my throat and dropping me bonelessly to his chest. The violent spasms of the climax made me light-headed enough that the room spun. Each breath felt like I was starving for air. He got more excited. His voice dropped nearly an octave to a deep rumble. "Yeah, that's it. That's what I wanted, Kate. I wanted to see it in your eyes, hear you scream my name before I—" I felt his whole body rise up and it felt like he nearly doubled in size inside me as he climaxed with a grunt and a tightening of his hands on my hip and neck. The extra size moving inside me caused a second, mini-climax in me, and I cried out again. We shook and writhed on each other's sweatsoaked bodies while light sparkled in my vision and he continued to push himself inside me until he was spent.

We lay like that for long minutes until our hearts slowed and we stopped panting.

He was the first to speak. He chuckled and it bounced me on his chest. "Oh, I could do this every day. To hell with Mary."

18

The bare beginnings of daylight arrived and we were still in each other's arms. I was liking the concept of love with Tom an awful lot, which made me nervous. This level of comfort was right where the boot had dropped with Dylan. Of course, that was a subject I didn't even want to think about, especially while lying cuddled in the arms of another man.

I got up without waking him. I needed a shower and I wanted to think. It occurred to me while hot water was beating on my head and stinging my back that I could think. The hive was quiet. Had Monica already died? Was the danger over? I wasn't sure whether to risk opening my senses. But then what I'm starting to affectionately refer to as my "spidey-sense" started to tingle. The witch wasn't dead. She hadn't been crushed by a falling house. No, she was in her castle, planning evil things. I knew it. But I also knew that today was the day. I could chase after fate, or try to run from it, but it would find me.

My first instinct was to chase after it, but Tom's words last night had stuck in my head. I had people willing to help. They had resources and abilities and I hadn't been giving anyone any credit for brains or brawn or anything else. I would be insulted as hell if anyone didn't feel they could rely on me, and here I was doing just that. So, I would let the wolves watch Bryan and Joe, no matter how much it made my skin crawl not to be involved. Of course, I knew that Joe could fight, and Mike could as well. Mike might even be a better fighter than me, when push came to shove.

But I would personally check to make sure that Dusty was okay, because that was still nagging at the back of my mind. Verifying the situation and not trusting aren't the same thing at all. Are they?

Oh, and I was going to avoid large fields of red poppies until the day was over.

A few minutes later, I was reasonably dry and wrapped in a towel in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what to do with my hair. Shampooing had brought back memories of the last time I'd

damaged my shoulder. Up is not a direction a sprained rotator cuff likes to travel. You'd be surprised how fast you change your mind about doing it. Yes, I can make suds with one hand and clean myself reasonably well. Toweling dry is a bit more of a trick, and wrapping hair in a towel is an amazingly similar motion to shifting into third. I don't recommend it.

Tom entered the bath while I was scrubbing my face and reached arms around me to snuggle. He rested his head on my shoulder and stared at me in the mirror. There's a certain look that a guy gets after sex. It's part contented cat and part dog protecting his bowl. But when the look also includes that deep down warmth that has nothing to do with lust, and everything to do with helping fold the laundry—well, that makes me feel all cotton candy and roller coasters inside.

He wiggled his eyebrows after a second and

flexed his fingers in my waist. I flinched involuntarily and he took that as an invitation to tickle me into a fit of giggles. He turned me around while I was still out of breath and kissed me. It was a long, slow taste that was happy, but not hungry, and the feeling of his arms around me was amazing.

"I see you managed to take a shower without me. How's the head holding up? I can never tell when they're around."

"Monica's ignoring me for the moment. She's planning diabolical things in her evil lair." My words were light, but we both understood the underlying seriousness. He backed up when I reached over to plug in the hair dryer and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his muscled chest. With his tousled hair, sleepy eyes and tight blue jeans, he was the stuff of calendars right where he stood.

"You going to be able to do that? That shoulder's pretty beat up. If you survive this, you'll probably need to get that looked at."

Ah, nothing like the guy you're dating, that you might well love, being so full of hope. I gave him a little sarcastic look. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, dearest."

He shrugged one shoulder. "You don't strike me as the 'rainbows and sunshine' sort to want to hear lies, darling. If it'll make you feel any better, there's a good chance that I won't survive either. We'll be a modern day Romeo and Juliet."

True. Too true for this early. "I'll need some coffee before I think about that too much." He winked. "Already started. You're almost out of sugar, by the way."

I bent over to take off the towel, and winced as I started to ease the knots out of my hair. "I don't use sugar. I take mine black."

"Yeah, but I take mine with sugar and cream. So pick up some sugar next shopping trip." The implication was clear, and I grinned