Riley Jensen 06 - The Darkest Kiss Part 23

"Probably not."

"Good. I'll be waiting at the Langham's main entrance in ten minutes."

"I'll be there."

I hung up, flung the phone into my bag, and started up the car. For the first time in ages, excitement buzzed through my veins and I couldn't help the silly grin that stretched my lips.

Yeah, Quinn and I had problems. Yep, we could be bad for each other-but we could also be d.a.m.n good together. And I needed that right now. I really did.

I made it to the Langham in record time and parked in the underground lot nearby. The rates were a killer, but I didn 't care.

Quinn was waiting near the main doors. His warm gaze slid down me, heating my skin to greater degrees, then stopped when it reached my sensible black shoes.

"What happened to the pretty green ones you were wearing?"

"Stabbed a shifter with them."

"That's a rather nasty thing to do." He slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. His body pressed against mine, warm, hard, and wonderfully familiar. "What did she do?"

"It was the bakeneko, not an ordinary shifter."

"Ah. Well, it wouldn't have done much good, then. Wooden stiletto heels don't affect bakenekos the way they do us vampires."

His breath ran across my lips, his mouth so close I could almost taste it.

"I know," I said, a little breathlessly. "But she was in the form of a rather large cat at the time, and that was the best weapon I had."

"I'm gathering she got away?"

"Yep. Which is why I'm here. I need to know more about bakenekos."

"I'll tell you everything I know-just not right now," he murmured, dropping feather-light kisses on either cheek before capturing my lips and kissing me long and strong.

Oh G.o.d, it was so good.

"Let's go upstairs," I said, a long while later.

He smiled, then slid one hand down my arm and wrapped his fingers in mine. Without another word, he tugged me forward, leading me through the Langham's gold-and-crystal foyer and into an elevator. It swept us upward, and soon we were walking across the plush carpet toward the presidential suite.

He swept the keycard through the lock, then opened the door and ushered me through. I 'd never been in a presidential suite before, and this one wasn't only huge, but it boasted views of the skyline and the city. All the different lights twinkled like rainbow stars, the sheer beauty of them momentarily making me forget my fear of heights. Which was something I 'd never thought possible. Maybe becoming a seagull had more benefits than I'd imagined.

I walked across to the plush leather seating, kicked off my shoes, then turned around and watched him stroll toward me.

Like before, it was grace and elegance personified, but this time it had an added element. Sheer and utter s.e.xiness.

I licked my lips and saw his gaze follow the movement. Smelled the sudden, delicious rise of desire. "I really need a shower first. I'm all sweaty and horrible."

A smile teased his lips and creased the corners of his dark eyes. "I'd like to say you could never be horrible, but I've seen you in a coffee-deprived state." He gave a mock shudder. "Horrible doesn't even begin to cla.s.sify it."

I grinned and didn't deny it. "Which way to the shower?"

"This way." He caught my hand again and led me through a bedroom bigger than my entire apartment, then into a bathroom that was all white marble and gold elegance.

He reached into the huge double shower and turned on all the jets. Then his gaze met mine, and a s.e.xy smile teased his mouth. "You know, of course, that you haven't a hope in h.e.l.l of showering by yourself."

I arched an eyebrow and said saucily, "Who said I wanted to shower by myself?" He laughed, and it was such a warm, free sound that tremors of delight ran across my skin. Then he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him again. His body was warm and hard against mine, and his erection rubbed my belly erotically. I wished we were naked, wished it was skin on heated skin rather than silk and fiber.

And then all thought disappeared as his lips came down on mine. We kissed, exploring and remembering the taste and feel of each other so slowly and sensually.

"You need to be naked," he said eventually, his mouth so close to mine that I felt the movement of his lips.

I kissed him lightly, then said, "You're quite capable of handling that task."

He smiled, dark eyes shining with amus.e.m.e.nt and desire. "So I am."

He skimmed his hands up my waist to my shoulders, then hooked the material with his thumbs and gently pushed the straps down my arms. The dress shimmied down my body and pooled at my feet. Once I stepped free, he picked it up and tossed it toward the chair in the corner.

"Almost there," he murmured, kissing my lips, my neck, my throat. His tongue lingered on the pulse point at the base of my neck for a moment, and his desire surged, scorching my skin. Then his kisses ran down my body, until he reached my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He kissed one nipple, then the other. I shuddered in delight, arching a little to offer him greater access. He chuckled softly, and caught one nipple with his teeth, nipping it lightly then suckling it. I moaned, and the desire that was already burning through my system became an inferno that seared the very air.

His lips left my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and moved down my stomach. I shuddered, enjoying the sensual exploration even as I wished he would hurry.

He slid his fingers through either side of my panties and pushed them down my legs. I stepped out, and he tossed them in the general direction of the dress. Then he kissed my thighs, and the junction between them, before rising and stepping back. His gaze took in my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, my curves, my legs, and he sighed.

"Glorious," he said, his gaze rising to mine again. In the dark depths longing echoed. And a longing that spoke of months, years-centuries, even-not just minutes. Once that would have scared me, but not now. Now, I finally understood it. "Absolutely glorious."

But it wasn't his words that had my silly heart doing strange things. It was the way it sounded when he said it. It was the longing and the loneliness I saw in his eyes given voice.

"My turn," I said, and proceeded to strip him-slowly and deliciously-allowing plenty of time for my fingers to slide across his skin, remembering the contours of his golden body, the feel of all that lean muscle. It was good to be able to touch him again, to tease and arouse him as his scent swirled around me, filling every breath and making my soul sigh in pleasure.

When we were both finally naked, I caught his hand and pulled him under the water. The needle-fine water was hot, but I barely even felt it because of the heat in my own skin.

"I had a dream just like this, once," I said, as he grabbed the soap and began washing my back and b.u.t.t.

He raised an eyebrow, dark eyes sparkling with the same sort of heated desire that was running riot through me. "Who said it was a dream?"

A smile teased my lips as I raised an eyebrow. "I was asleep. That makes it a dream."

"There is no such thing as sleep when our minds are able to connect so intimately."

He continued to wash me, his movements slow and sensual. Between the heat of the water and the heat of his hands, I was pretty much ready for anything.

"So it wasn't a dream?"

He shrugged, a movement so eloquent. "It was desire and fulfillment captured on a field only telepaths with a deep connection can reach. Nothing less, nothing more."

"It was a whole lot more, let me tell you."

He smiled and kissed my lips. "Would you like that dream to become a reality?"

"Please," I whispered.

"Your wish is my command."

He turned me around so that, as in the dream, my back was against the hard heat of his body, his erection nudging my b.u.t.t as he began to wash my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and belly. The scent of lavender touched the air, filling every breath, as tantalizing as the scent of sandalwood and man.

And oh, it felt good. Better, even, than in the dream, and that had been delicious enough.

But now, as then, the sensation of being caught between the heat of his body, the drum of the water, and the caress of his hands was nothing short of tortuous.

I grabbed the soap from him and turned around. His beautiful body gleamed like sculptured pale-gold marble in the half- light of the bathroom, the water reverently caressing every muscle, every curve. I followed the water 's lead, soaping every marvelous inch, until he was quivering with desire and his breathing was as fast as mine.

"Enough," he murmured, taking the soap from my hand and putting it back in the holder.

I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck and kissed him. He pressed me back against the wet, cool tiles, his mouth hungry against mine, the heat of him flowing around me, through me, burning my skin, and contrasting sharply with the coolness seeping from the tiles.

"G.o.d, I missed you," he said softly. "Missed this."

"So did I."

It came out little more than a pant of air as he slid so very slowly into me. For a moment we simply stood there, his body pressed against mine, in mine, filling me, liquefying me, the water pounding our flesh but doing little to dampen the heat that burned between us. His dark gaze came to mine and, in the ebony depths, I saw the spark of determination flare. This vampire wasn 't going to be sent away again without a fight. Wasn't going to let me go again without a fight.

But that was okay, because there was nowhere else I wanted or needed to be. Not now, and not in the immediate future.

He began to move, slowly at first but gradually getting faster, until it was all pa.s.sion, heat, and intensity. Until I was drowning in the storm of it but loving every minute. And as before, the sensual heat of our dance had our spirits combining, making this more than one moment of mere intimacy, more than mere pleasure. It made us one in a way that went beyond anything I'd ever experienced with anyone else. Even Kellen.

His movements became fiercer, more urgent, and so very wonderful. The rich ache grew, flaring across my body, becoming a kaleidoscope of sensations that washed through every corner of my mind. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. I could only feel.

Then the shuddering took hold and I gasped, grabbing his shoulders, clambering up his body to wrap my legs around his waist and push him deeper still. Pleasure exploded between us and my o.r.g.a.s.m ripped through my body, shuddered through my soul. He came with me, but as his body flowed into mine, his teeth grazed my neck. I jerked reflexively when they pierced my skin, but the brief flare of pain quickly became something undeniably exquisite, and I came a second time, the o.r.g.a.s.m shuddering on as he drank briefly from my neck.

When I finally remembered how to breathe again, I opened my eyes and stared into his.

"That was even better than the dream."

"Reality often is."

I smiled. "The reality right now is that I'm beginning to resemble a prune."

He laughed and turned off the water. I stepped away from him, then squeezed the water from my hair. He handed me a towel so thick and lush my fingers got lost in it, then began to dry himself with another. It was, I thought, as heat stirred anew, a delicious sight.

I shoved my hormones back into their box and began to towel myself dry. "I could really do with a coffee right now."

"And here I was about to suggest we retire to the bed and continue our refamiliarization process there." He flung his towel around my shoulders and tugged me close. "Because there's still lots of you I'm hungry to explore and remember."

And there was lots of me that wanted to be explored and remembered....

I let my towel drop and pressed myself against him. He was more than half ready to go again, and it sent a shiver of delight traipsing across my skin to know that he was as hungry for me as I was for him. "There's nothing to say we can't have coffee and bed. I'm versatile. I can share my pleasures."

"I've heard that about you," he said, tone serious but ebony eyes alight with amus.e.m.e.nt. "But I'm not convinced. Perhaps you need to demonstrate this versatility."

My grin was all cheek, all dare. "Any way you want me to, vampire."

He laughed, a low rich sound that had my hormones flipping with glee, then he grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the bedroom. "With a challenge like that, it could be a very long time before we surface."

And it was.

But G.o.d, it was good.

One thing about being in the presidential suite, I discovered, was all manner of food being available on call whenever you wanted it.

I sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, the tray in front of me holding a hamburger with all the trappings, a hazelnut coffee in the biggest mug the hotel could find, and chocolate-coated strawberries that were as sweet and delicious as they looked.

Right now, I was alternating between them and the burger, and getting some very disapproving looks from Quinn. He might have proved in the last few hours that he wasn't as old-fashioned when it came to lovemaking as I'd thought, but it seemed he still had a few hang-ups about the way food should be eaten.

Not that he'd actually eaten anything for a very long time.

He'd retreated to the other side of the ma.s.sive bed and was half under the sheet, his back resting against the padded headrest. He was sipping a red wine and I could smell the tartness of it from where I sat.

I took another bite of the burger, practically moaning as the patty and its juices filled my mouth, then said, "So tell me how to kill this bakeneko."

"You need to kill her body." "That goes without saying, doesn't it? I mean, killing a body stops most things."

He raised his gla.s.s in salute of my point. "However, the bakeneko is not most things. She is now a creature of magic, and that magic not only gives her the ability to remold her form, but also provides extreme speed and power. She will not be an easy kill."

Few bad things were. "Do we need to kill her any specific way?"

"Cutting off her head should work." He took another sip of wine. "If the spirit is caught in dead flesh, it will leave this world and never return."

"So the spirit itself is never actually killed?"

He shook his head. "But she cannot inhabit the flesh of another. With her body gone, she must move on."

Well, at least that was something. I gulped down some coffee, discovering it was as delicious as the rest of the feast. "No souls have been present at the murder scene, and we have a witness who swears he saw the creature sucking at a victim's mouth. I think she's ingesting the souls-is that possible?"

"Very possible, especially if her attacks are escalating." He took a sip of wine, then added, "Every soul she consumes strengthens her, but it also fuels her anger and madness. That's another reason to be very careful."

"Do bakenekos live on souls?" I shuddered at the thought.

"'Live' is perhaps the wrong word. They don't need souls to survive, even if it does strengthen them. They simply enjoy the pain and the suffering of ripping a soul from its dying body."

"So it's all part of the ultimate vengeance?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess it's a good thing we're rounding up the remaining Trollops." I popped a strawberry in my mouth and munched on it. "I have a list of fourteen names-would that be all of them?"

"I only know of fourteen, so yes, more than likely. I could check the list if you want."