“Tell me again,” he said in a low, husky voice. “Whose are you tonight?”
His heart beat a palpable rhythm against her chest, just as rapid as the tattoo hers pattered against his. His gaze burned with a scorching intensity, and clearly, it burned for her. He wanted her, and she wanted him just as much. “Yours,” she answered. “I’m yours tonight, Spencer.”
“Then we’re going to go take a shower. I’ll wash you, and in return, you can wash me. After that, we’ll go to the bed, and I’ll give you a massage with that warm oil.” He leaned down and kissed her, a long and slow interplay of lips and tongue that stole her breath. His hand slid down her back to caress her behind, palming the curves possessively. “Are you ready?”
“I’ll do whatever you ask,” she told him. It excited her to feel him shiver when she said it.
He left her no choice. When he let her go, it was to lift her into his arms and cradle her against the firm muscles of his chest. Tightening his arms around her, he dipped his head down to steal another kiss from her then, effortlessly, he carried her to the bathroom.
On the outside, the glass had a reflective surface that made it impossible to see in. On the inside, however, the glass remained clear, so the entire room had a view even better than that from the elevator. Two sides of the shower displayed the metropolitan spectacle, and a simple bath became an exhibitionist’s delight.
Spencer set Meghan on the bath mat. He opted against the claw-footed tub and instead chose to set the pair of showerheads to a steamy heat. As the heavy vapor billowed, it curled against the glass of the shower but refused to stick.
“It’s not fogging up,” Meghan said with fascination.
“They treat the glass in here with a special chemical,” he said with a grin. “No matter how hot a shower you take, you won’t fog over the view.” His fingers found the buttons of her blouse and began to undo them, revealing more of her skin with each opened catch.
Soon, he had it undone, and he laid it over a rack near the shower. Seconds ticked by as he looked her over, and then he reached for the fasteners on her skirt. It dropped to the floor, and he dropped with it, onto one knee as he pulled her pantyhose from her legs.
A sudden blush of modesty stole over her with a flash of a desire to cover herself and not be naked to his inspection, but he gently took the choice from her hands. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, and he tugged them downward, baring her most private of areas.
He tossed her other clothes over the rack as he stood. The smile on his lips said he liked what he saw, and his tense motions spoke volumes about the eagerness he repressed as he reached around her to unfasten her bra. When the hooks opened, the material fell away. She had nowhere left to hide.
Kayla took a deep breath, conflicted but unable to stop the next question. “What about Noah?”
“He misses you.” Her answer was immediate. “He pushed for war harder than anyone, and almost got it, all by himself. He was the one who challenged Peter the night he met with Lord Pirelli.” She paused. “He almost won.”
It hit her like a blow to the gut. He’d fought for her, tried to take on a city full of vampires. I shouldn’t have asked. Fuck. “I’m glad he didn’t.”
“Me, too. It would have been a free-for-all.” Moira stared at her, hard. “You’re going to see him, aren’t you? Kayla, you have to see him.”
“I have to leave him out of it.” She shook her head. “He doesn’t need to get involved with me again. Not now.”
“Why not? He loves you.” Her old friend leaned forward. “You can’t come back here and not talk to him. That’s not right.”
Warmth in the cold of her emotions hurt. He loves me. And that’s why he can’t know I’m here. Please, drop it; I don’t want to think about it. “It’s not right to take him where I have to go. He deserves a life and a future.”
The redhead narrowed her eyes. “He won’t get either without you. Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Into the abyss. Where they dragged me.”
“You’re going to break the fight wide open, aren’t you?”
Her hands clenched in front of her. “They started it a year ago. I’m just bringing it back to their front.”
Quiet stole over them, tense, full of unasked questions. “You can’t do this. It’s more than you. It’s the pack. The city. The people in it. Get Peter involved. Or Sonja Carter. They can talk to Pirelli—”
“I have to do this. You don’t understand.”
Temper flared in the Irish woman’s eyes. “You’re damn right, I don’t. You haven’t said a word to help me understand. Take off your glasses and look at me!”
Angry, riled, Kayla ripped the glasses off her face.
Moira gasped. The color drained from her face. “God in Heaven… What did they do to you?”
He paused outside his door and turned her to face him. “You’re being enigmatic on purpose, aren’t you.”
A lopsided smirk curled her lips. “Maybe.”
“You shouldn’t taunt a head doctor that way,” he mock-warned, fishing into his pocket for his keys. The mysterious card fell into his hand instead. “We’ll strip you down ‘til we find all your secrets.”
She moved behind him while he opened the security gate. Her thigh brushed his. “What if that doesn’t sound bad?”
Need spiked through him. Blood rushed to swell his cock against the front of his slacks. “Then keep right on as you are, and I’ll have you bare in no time.”
The door opened. Dim light from the small lamp on the entertainment center kept the shadows at bay. After the unseen monsters in the strange yellow streetlights, this low, normal glow was a piece of heaven. Never mind that it revealed his sloppy stack of movies and the clutter in the living room.
“Cozy,” she said, but her voice contained none of the sarcasm he’d expected. Instead, she looked pleased, relaxed, like a far traveler finally returned home. “I like your place.”
“Thanks. Sorry about the mess. I’ve had a long week, and no chance to pick up.” He watched as her long legs carried her to the couch. The black leather jacket hung over her backside, and he wished the material would disappear. “Make yourself at home, all right? I’m going to change out of these work clothes before we head out.”
She ran her hand over the knitted afghan draped on the back of the sofa. “Take your time.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Sophia watched him disappear down the hall. Tall, lithe, and handsome, Kyle cut a fine figure in his casual business suit. That head of blond hair tempted her, made her want to run her fingers through the golden locks while she wrapped her legs around his waist. He had a winsome smile, but she could see the toll of his work behind those green eyes. It made him layered, complex, the kind of man she could sink her teeth into.
The tip of her tongue touched the sharp point of a fang. She wondered how he tasted.