Riley Jensen 07 - Deadly Desire Part 9

"Meaning she won't help him, either."

"No."

His hands slid around my hips, until the length of me was pressed against the long, hard length of him. It felt so good I stopped thinking and just started reacting, letting my hands slide down his back to cup his b.u.t.t and press him even harder against me.

Slowly, sensually, I rubbed myself against him, enjoying the heat of him, the hard press of his erection.

He smiled, his dark gaze holding mine, afire with the same need that burned through me. His hands slid up my back and with one clever flick of his fingers, my bra came undone. A second later, he was sliding both my jacket and my bra from my shoulders and dropping them to the floor.

He kissed one puckered nipple, then the other, then murmured, "Turn around."

I did as bid, and found myself pressed against the cool gla.s.s, the heat of my body making the surface flare and go clear. Suddenly everything on the street below was visible.

"I want everyone to know that this gorgeous body is mine," he murmured, sweeping my hair to one side and kissing the nape of my neck. "I want everyone to see just how glorious you look when you come."

His words had me shuddering in pleasure, and it was all I could do not to turn around, to take what I so desperately needed.

But this was his game. Mine could wait until later.

His fingertips slid up my bare leg, making my muscles twitch in delight and the deep-seated ache all that much fiercer. When he reached the top of the skirt's split, he hesitated, and my breath hitched in expectation. I wanted, needed his touch to slide underneath the material. To explore where I ached.

Instead, his hand moved down to my thighs and slowly, surely, the skirt slid upward.

For several seconds, he didn't do anything more than simply stand behind me. But I could feel the weight of his gaze on my body, hear the rapid intake of his breath, smell the raging of his desire. And it was as arousing as a touch, making the throb of desire fiercer than I'd ever thought possible.

More minutes ticked by, and sweat began to trickle down the back of my neck. The weight of expectation was not something I'd experienced before, and while it might be sweet, it was also torturous.

Finally, his hands touched my shoulders and moved down, sliding around to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His body pressed lightly against mine as he caressed and pinched my nipples, and I moaned, thrusting back against him, enjoying the steel of his erection pressed so firmly against my b.u.t.t.

Then one hand began to move downward, along the flat of my stomach, across to my hip, down the outside of my thigh. My breathing was getting harsher by the moment, and expectation was rising, until it felt like I would surely burst if he didn't d.a.m.n well touch me there soon.

His fingers brushed the inside of my thigh, and my breathing hitched. Slowly, surely, his caress moved upward, and when he finally brushed my c.l.i.t, I cried out in sheer, aching pleasure. His fingers slid through the wetness, caressing, delving, and all I could do was shudder and writhe and moan. And then he was in me, thrusting hard and deep, and I came, shaking with the sheer force of my climax. And still he thrust, the thick heat of him stabbing deep, the sensation so glorious pleasure rose thick and strong all over again. Then he came, and his teeth were in my neck, and the dual sensations was so glorious I came a second time.

For several minutes we did nothing more than merely stand there, our bodies locked together and the heat of our union clearing the gla.s.s. On the street below, several men had gathered, obviously trying to figure out if they had just seen what they thought they'd seen. If I'd had the energy, I would have waved.

"That," I said eventually, "was a brilliant start to the evening."

"It surely was."

He dropped a kiss on my shoulder blade, then stepped back. I turned and followed, letting the gla.s.s go smoky again. Quinn placed his hands on each side of my face and gently kissed me. It was a sweet kiss, yet one that spoke of pa.s.sion not yet sated.

The thought had my hormones coursing in delight.

He leaned down to pick up the drinks, his undone s.h.i.+rt revealing delicious glimpses of toned stomach muscles as he gave me my gla.s.s. I took a sip, enjoying the coolness of the sweet liquid, then said, "So, where was our conversation again?"

"I believe I said something along the lines of Madrilene not going out of her way to help her brother solve these murders." "Ah yes." I took another sip of wine and idly wondered if it would taste as good if it was licked off his skin. "Why do you call her Madrilene when she's known everywhere else as Alex?"

His smile was sensual and dangerous. A man getting ready to seduce again. "Most older vampires have had several names over the years. I met her when she was Madrilene, so that is what I call her."

"And what does she call you?"

"Ciaran. Quinn is a derivative of my original surname, O'Cuinn."

"Ciaran O'Cuinn." The name rolled off the tongue sweetly. "It suits you."

"But it is no longer the name I go by."

"And will your current moniker also hit the dust one day?"

"It's hard to say, because the existence of nonhumans is an accepted fact now. Back when I was young, they were very much a myth, and anyone who lived too long or didn't age was treated with great suspicion-and that often resulted in death." His shrug was an elegant thing. "But enough of me. Continue with your tales of death."

I smiled. Getting Quinn to talk about his past was as difficult as ever, but at least I was now getting little bits and pieces. Once upon a time, he'd clam up tighter than, well, a clam. "We also happen to have a couple of h.e.l.lhounds running around. Don't suppose you've some more of that holy water lying about, do you?"

He laughed softly. "It's not something I keep in the cupboard, no. But I can get you some, if you'd like."

"Please." I dipped my fingers into the wine, then lightly sprinkled it across his chest. Stepping away from the window, I pressed myself against him and slowly licked the droplets off. Desire stirred, his and mine, filling the air with its richness. "How much time have we got left before our meal arrives?"

He barely even glanced at his watch, merely wrapped his arms around me and said, his lips so close to mine I could practically taste them, "More than enough time to uncover some more creative uses for the wine."

"Good," I said.

And it d.a.m.n well was.

Someone was touching my feet. The sensation was feather light, but nevertheless annoying. I twitched my feet away but the annoyance seemed to follow.

"Go away," I muttered, not opening my eyes.

"I will be in about five minutes," Quinn said, amus.e.m.e.nt evident in his rich tones. "You need to wake up."

"Says who?" I grabbed the pillow and hugged it tighter. As if it would chase away the reality of the morning and the fact that I did need to get up and go to work.

"I have coffee."

My nostrils flared. "Not in your hand, you haven't."

He chuckled softly and kissed my cheek, leaving it tingling. "I'm not that stupid. It's out on the table, along with your bacon, eggs, and toast.""I don't want to get up." It sounded petulant, but G.o.d, I was tired. Between the s.e.x at the restaurant and the s.e.x here in his penthouse, sleep hadn't played a major part in our night.

"Trust me, neither did I. Not when you had your warm and luscious body wrapped around me. I have meetings I can't get out of, however."

And I had killers to chase. I blew out a breath and opened my eyes. "Why this sudden rash of meetings? Your airline business isn't in trouble, is it?"

"No, but I am considering s.h.i.+fting the headquarters down to Melbourne so I can see a certain redhead more often."

He was s.h.i.+fting his whole business for me? G.o.d, was there ever a greater sign of commitment than that? It made me feel intensely happy, and yet intensely selfish. I couldn't give him the same sort of commitment because there would always be one part of my soul that hungered for-needed-more.

Besides, he wasn't the first man to offer such a gift. Kellen had moved down to Melbourne for me, too, and look how well that had turned out. "Really?"

"Really." His dark eyes smiled. "Of course, the move will be gradual, as said redhead is keeping her options open when it comes to other werewolves."

"It's not like I'm going to the clubs and dancing every night."

"I know, and I appreciate it." He leaned down and kissed me gently. "But we both know there will come a time when I am not enough, and that will be a testing time for us both."

"I won't flaunt any other lovers in your face, Quinn. I promise that much."

He smiled and touched his fingers lightly to my cheek. The caress was tender and yet oddly sad. Just like the brief flare in his eyes. "I know. The problem lies with my instincts, not yours. A vampire doesn't like to share."

"What about an Aedh?"

Quinn had never been entirely human, even before he'd turned vampire. The Aedh weren't flesh and blood, they were beings of energy who sometimes took on winged human form to procreate. His father had been a priest of the Aedh, whose job it was to guard the gates that joined this world to the other.

He smiled. "The Aedh has sympathy for the vampire, but he's certainly the reason for the tolerance currently being displayed."

"Then I need to thank him." I reached up and kissed him again. His lips were warm and delicious, tasting faintly of coffee.

"Shame you have business meetings to attend to."

"We have tonight." He pulled away from my grip. "Up woman, or you'll have Jack calling to hound you."

I muttered something unpleasant under my breath, but gave in to the inevitable. By the time I'd showered and dressed, Quinn was gone.

The eggs were cold when I got around to eating them, so I just ate the bacon and toast and then gulped down the coffee. I was almost out the door when my cell phone rang.

"On my way, Jack," I said, answering without bothering to look at the screen.

"Well good," my brother said. "Because it is nearly nine-thirty, and your a.s.s should have been in the Directorate by now." "So Jack has sent you to track me down?"

"No. Well, sort of. He's sending me undercover later today, so I told him I needed to talk to you first. You feel like breakfast?"

"I've had breakfast."

"What, you've never heard of a second breakfast? We're never going to make a good hobbit out of you, are we?"

I grinned. Rhoan and Liander had been on a Lord of the Rings kick of late, and could practically recite the old movies word for word-although neither of them had gotten around to reading the books. Rhoan wasn't much of a reader, and Liander had never gotten past the first few chapters-although he kept picking the book up, and did get a little bit farther each time.

"I'll be into second, third, and fourth breakfasts, you know that." All this good s.e.x made a gal hungry. Besides, I needed to keep my iron intake up to avoid problems with the amount of blood Quinn was taking.

"Meet you at Beans in ten, then."

"Will do." I hung up and punched the call b.u.t.ton. The elevator answered straight away, zooming me down to the parking levels.

Rhoan was already waiting by the time I got there, and drew me into a bear hug. "Nice to see you again."

"Says the wolf who's always off gallivanting with his mate."

He grinned and took my arm, guiding me to a booth. "The flat does get a little crowded with the three of us there all the time."

I slid into the booth, punched an order of hazelnut coffee and pancakes into the electronic ordering machine, then slid my credit card through the appropriate slot.

"So," I said, as Rhoan repeated the process. "Tell me about the undercover job."

"It's at a gay strip bar." Antic.i.p.ation glinted brightly in his silver eyes. Like most wolves, Rhoan was a exhibitionist by nature, and he loved flaunting the wares.

But he was also addicted to s.e.x-or rather, the danger of s.e.x with a man who might well be his prey. He might be committed to Liander, but when it came to work, all bets were off. And Liander, knowing of his addiction, had given his blessing.

"Who's the target?"

"No one specific. Apparently the club is one Armel visited quite often. Jack wants me undercover there to see if there's any whispers as to what might have happened."

"Armel was bis.e.xual?"

He nodded. "Apparently many old vampires are. I suppose restricting yourself to one gender does tend to limit your food source."

That was true. But it made we wonder if Jack, or Quinn, ever had male lovers. Neither of them had mentioned it, but I guess it wasn't something you just dropped into casual conversation.

"Why doesn't he just ask the owners himself? Or better yet, go there and do a mind sweep of the patrons?"

A waitress appeared with our coffees. Rhoan gave her a smile of thanks before saying, "Because the club is an underground one, and owned by two powerful vamps who run the business along the same lines as many wolf clubs. He's afraid that if we go in there in an official capacity, everyone will either disappear or clam up.""So these vampires are older than Jack?"

"Apparently."

Hence Quinn's warning that Jack would be restricted in what he could do and ask. I sipped my coffee then said, "Have you talked to Liander about it?"

He smiled. "He was first cab off the stand. Sorry, sis, I love you and all, but he gives good s.e.x."

I picked up a sugar packet and threw it at him. "Idiot. Of course you'd tell him first. He's your mate."

"Yeah." He paused, then said, "It takes a bit of getting used to, doesn't it? Having someone living with us, I mean."

"Yeah. But it's also good, because we have more than just each other now. We have Liander."

"I guess." He paused. "I sometimes miss the peace of you and me, though."

"Because it's only been a few weeks. We've been alone for practically forever." I glanced up as the waitress delivered my pancakes and Rhoan's fried breakfast, thanking her before adding, "You're not getting cold feet again, are you? Because I promise you, I will smack you."

He laughed. "No, everything's fine. As you said, it's just taking some adjustment."

"Imagine how Liander feels. He's gone from a supercool, roomy house to a messy two-bedroom apartment. It has to be his version of h.e.l.l."

"Never really thought of it that way," Rhoan said around a mouthful of food.

I smiled. My brother had always tended to think of his needs and wants first. It was something of a family trait, I guess.

I tackled my own food with gusto, and it was only when I'd finished that I said, "So how long are you actually going to be undercover?"

"Don't know. The full moon is coming up, so I'll be no good to anyone then. Maybe a week, maybe less." He shrugged. "I guess it depends on whether I catch any whispers or not."

"Then Jack hasn't got anything concrete on Armel's murder?"