His teeth gnashed together. “Both times, I stopped myself. I don’t trust you enough.”
Ouch. There was no arguing with that. Still, male pride might once again come to her rescue. “Do you like to do kinky, embarrassing things, and that’s why you won’t be with a girl like me?” She’d meant to sound flippant, or even suggestive, but the pain just kind of seeped out of her.
A girl like me. Never good enough.
Sheer, absolute longing painted the harshness of his features. “Sweetheart, I’d be happy with straight-up missionary with you.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. The way he’d said “missionary,” as if he’d never wanted anything more, well, she nearly stripped then and there. Permission first, then the shedding of clothing.
“Then don’t be a pussy,” she said to goad him. “Do something with me.”
He was the one to step closer this time, and there was so much menace in his eyes she found herself backing away, despite the intensity of her desire for him. But he kept coming, until her knees hit the back of the bed and she fell to the mattress. His legs imprisoned her knees, halting any retreat she might have made.
“Something?” he growled.
“Anything.”
“Like what? Help … me.”
With pleasure. She grabbed his hips and pulled. He fell forward as she fell the rest of the way back. He managed to catch himself before their bodies aligned, straddling her waist, glaring down at her. He was harder than before, his erection straining the fly of his pants.
Moisture pooled between her legs, making her desperate for his touch, his tongue. Something, anything. Little aches arced through her bloodstream, razing her cells, making them clamor for contact, too. She drew two fingers down the buttons of his shirt, popping them and causing the material to gape open.
“Noelle,” he rasped, bracing his arms as if he meant to push away. “I remember when you told me that you’d called dibs on Dallas.”
Bothered by the idea? God, she hoped so. “First, I might have called dibs, but I never actually wanted him. Second, I do want to sleep with you.” More than I’ve ever wanted anything. “But you have to give me something, Hector. Please. Info or another kiss. Gentleman’s choice.”
She traced her fingers along the ridges of his stomach, then circled his nipples. He sucked in a breath—but didn’t tell her to stop.
He leaned down, nipped at her lower lip. God, she loved when he did that.
“To save you,” he said. “There. That’s an answer, a bit of the information you demanded. I stopped kissing you to save you.”
Just a nip, but she tasted him. Sweet, minty, drugging. She let her fingers fall … fall … and cup his erection, rubbing up and down, and sweet merciful heaven. He was the stuff of fantasies. “From?”
Growls began to erupt from his throat. His hips moved with her hand, jerky thrusts that deepened the contact.
“You picked information. You can’t stop there,” she said. “Trust me. I won’t betray you, and I’ll even share a secret about myself.”
He stilled. A moment passed while he caught his breath. “If I don’t?”
“I’ll think you decided to give me a kiss instead. I’ll keep throwing myself at you. I’ll even up my game. And if you think I was shameless before, get ready. Flashing? Old news. Innuendos? Nothing. I’ll show up on your doorstep naked, and that’ll just be the appetizer.”
Bargaining?
Well, she knew how to buy and how to take. With Ava, she knew how to give. Time, affection, anything and everything, because Ava gave so freely to her. But this thing with Hector was uncharted territory. What she wanted couldn’t be bought or taken. And she found that she didn’t want him that way, anyway. She craved his willingness.
“I can’t tell you. Not in a way you’ll believe. I’ll have to show you,” he said, his timbre guttural, gravelly.
Triumphant heat shimmered through her.
Quickly, as if he feared talking himself out of his actions, he removed his shirt the rest of the way, then extended his arms above her. He was still without gloves, and she could see that the strange light glowed from his shoulders to fingertips. Brighter and brighter, until she could no longer see his skin. Or his muscles and bones. Just particles, floating in the air, like a thousand little sparks that conformed to the same shape as his limbs. A morbidly beautiful, hauntingly lovely sight.
She’d known he sometimes glowed, but hadn’t figured out why or how and never would have guessed this. Dazed, she reached out to touch. He jerked both arms higher in the air, preventing contact. The glow faded … disappeared, his skin returning to its natural burnished tan, though some of his tattoos were now gone. Both arms fell to his sides.
Sweat beaded on his brow, and the mix of emotion in his eyes startled her. She saw fear, anger, hope, and grim expectation.
“Don’t ever touch me when I’m like that,” he said hoarsely. “I could burn you, scar you. I could punch through your body and rip out your heart in less than a second.”
“Hector, I—” Didn’t know what to say. She’d never seen anything like that. Never heard of anything like that. Not among humans, and not among the alien races.
The grim expectation won the fight for dominance and now painted each of his features. “Do you understand why I can’t let myself have you? I can force my arms to atomize, yes, but sometimes, most times, they atomize on their own.”
She gulped, experienced a wave of fear. Atomizing unbidden. Like the times they’d kissed, when he’d burned through metal.
At the time, she’d been in tremendous danger, just as he’d said, but she hadn’t even suspected. He had, though. He had known and he had feared, and that’s why he’d left her.
What would have happened if he’d accidentally touched her, even in the slightest way? She wouldn’t have felt the pain, might have even prolonged the contact, and she would have been severely injured. “When does it happen on its own?” she asked softly. “Why?”
“When I’m aroused. When I’m frustrated. When I’m pissed.”
“And you’ve hurt people before?” she asked, gentle now, so gentle. “Unintentionally?”
A hard nod as he leaned his weight into her and carefully, oh, so carefully, braced his hands beside her temples. Close, though not daring to brush against her. “I won’t lie to you. A few times, I did it on purpose.”
She wondered who he’d harmed—killed?—and why, but she wouldn’t ask. Not yet. She didn’t want such lethal memories to intrude on this moment. He was finally opening up, sharing, giving her a chance to prove herself worthy of his trust. So push for too much too soon? No.
Her mind caught on three little words. Prove herself worthy. This time, though, she was glad to do so. This was difficult for him, a huge step. She owed him the best she had to give.
“Why are your arms like that?” she asked. “Do you know?”
Some of the stiffness melted from his shoulders. “I was born that way, I guess. First time I remember hurting someone with them, I was eight.”
Eight. So young. So sweet and innocent. “I’m sorry.” The price tag on such a lethal ability must be unbearable, and yet he soldiered on. The mental and emotional strength he must possess …
She thought back. She’d never seen him touch anyone casually. Sometimes he handled suspects, but never for long. For the most part, he kept to himself. Perhaps he was as lonely as she often was.
He nodded to acknowledge he’d heard her. “I … care about you, Noelle. I don’t like the thought of you in pain.”
“Well, that’s good because I can’t feel any. Pain, I mean. I don’t have any working receptors,” she said. “That’s my secret. That my father paid to have them fried.”
A burst of confusion in his eyes, then anger. “You were altered?” he demanded. “Surgically? Why?”
“In case I was kidnapped again.”
A cold wash of horror. “Again?”
He’d trusted her; now she would trust h
im. As promised. “Yes. Again. For ransom. The kidnappers told my father they’d kill me if he went to the police or if the media found out, but that wasn’t why he kept things quiet. If no one knew, no one would miss the men responsible.”
“Go on,” he gritted.
“My dad paid good money for my release, but by then, I’d been a captive for three days and two nights.”
“How old were you?”
“I had just turned twelve. Anyway, to get their point across, the kidnappers hurt me, on camera, and sent the videos to my father. A new video each day. They made the mistake of thinking him a simple businessman. Truth was, he’d worked for the shadier side of the government most of his life, as only a rich man can. He had connections and resources and in the end was able to travel all over the world without suspicion and do terrible things with no one the wiser.”
“Good.”
After he’d gotten Noelle back, he’d savagely killed the men who’d held her.
Only then, in an effort to be proactive, had he had his doctors screw with her nerve endings. That had hurt far worse than any torturing the kidnappers had done. So no, nothing Hector could do would cause her a moment of pain.
“Your dad loved you,” he said.
Sadness flickered in her chest. “He loved the idea of me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She wiggled against him, her hunger for him returning full force. “Let’s get back to the good stuff.”
His eyes narrowed. “You may not feel the pain, sweetheart, but I could still do some damage.” Comprehension blazed with lightning sharpness. “And now I realize you wouldn’t know if I was causing damage until it was too late. We should stop,” he added. “Before this goes any further.”
“No!” Like a dog that refused to relinquish her new chew toy, she dug her claws into his chest. “Stay.”
“I want to, I do. I like spending time with you—when I’m not battling rampant lust for you. God knows, I want you all the damn time. And I care about you, like I said, but I will not hurt you. I won’t let myself.”
He more than craved her. He cared about her.
He liked spending time with her.
The knowledge affected her. Deeply. How strong he was, to resist his own needs. How sweet he was, to protect others from what he could do. But she felt the same about him—she cared, she liked—and she wasn’t going to let him shove her aside and keep her at a distance. Even though she was now scared, too.
“What about tying you up?” she asked. Anything. She would try anything to be with him. And a little bondage? Nice.
Shock flared in his eyes, that she so easily accepted, but it quickly dissolved in the face of regret. “I burn through rope.”
“Chains?”
“Melt them.”
Ouch. “What do you do with the hookers?”
A blaze of shame. “You don’t need to know.”
Did he think her desire for him would wane? “Tell me anyway. You know I’ll press until you do.” His expression remained stubborn; so, once again she pricked at his pride. “Remove your tampon and tell me, Hector. I’ve pursued you, I’ve won you, and now I deserve to know.”
He snapped his teeth at her, reminding her of the times he’d bitten her. “They get on their knees and blow me,” he snarled. “Happy now? Last time was over a year ago. And before you ask, I’m not letting you do that to me.”
Over a year ago. So telling, whether he meant it to be or not. Tenderness filled her. She thought for a moment. Then she said, “All right. So you won’t let me blow you. What will you let me do to you, Hector? Because you’re not leaving this room until we’re both sated.”
Twenty-two
HECTOR PEERED DOWN AT the woman splayed underneath him, the woman studying him with an intensity and longing that floored him. She was addictive in so many ways. Her ever-changing scent—now jasmine and honey. Her always decadent taste—sugar and spice. But this … this was where the true danger lay. The way she looked at him. As if he were beautiful. As if he were strong, valiant, sexy … worthy.
When compared to her, he was none of those things. Hell, when compared to a piece of lint, he was none of those things. The fact that he and Noelle were so damn different hadn’t changed. She was energy, a kaleidoscope of colors. He was linear, a bold black and white.
Yet, throughout their sexually charged conversation, she hadn’t seemed to notice, or maybe she just hadn’t cared, that he belonged in a different world. Desire had—and did—thrum from her in sultry waves, increasing his own.
And now he knew they had something in common. A shitty childhood. Once Hector had assumed she’d never known pain or suffering. Stupid of him. She’d been kidnapped, tortured, then tortured again when she returned home. This beautiful, sexy creature had been made to scream with something other than pleasure. Never fucking again, he vowed. He would guard her, from afar if necessary.
“Why do you want me?” he asked, truly confused. He was a bad bet, no matter from what angle she studied this. And he knew she wasn’t just leading him on or hoping for a temporary distraction. She could find that anywhere, with anyone, with a lot more ease and zero threat. Example: Dallas.
The thought alone nearly caused Hector to rip the silk covers at her temples into shreds.
“You fascinate me,” she admitted.
Slowly he relaxed. On that front, at least, they were even. No one had ever fascinated him more than this—what had he once called her?—slice of elegance.
“Your intensity … I wonder, all the time, what it will be like, having every bit of it focused on me.”
Curiosity too, then. How disappointing. Enough to make him walk away, though? No. Just then, he doubted anything could. She was soft beneath him, and though only their legs were touching, he could feel the heat of her. Could she feel the heat of him?
“I never noticed this until today, but your face displays every emotion you’re feeling, in the minutest degree,” she said. “Disenchantment, anger, arousal. I don’t know why you felt the first two a moment ago, but I want you to listen to me. I’ve only had one serious boyfriend in my life, and only two sexual partners. One of which doesn’t count.”
“Barry,” he said, still offended on her behalf. How dare anyone treat her like that prick had? “I’m putting the guy in ICU as soon as tomorrow.”
Her lids went to half-mast, the gray of her eyes softening to a smoky silvery-blue. “I think you’re a better gift giver than Ava, and she’s a master. But the point is, I’m choosy, and I don’t screw around for fun. Wait. I do screw around for fun, but it’s also for keeps.”
Two men. At last those words sank in, and grew roots. Only two. And she wanted him to be number three. He was baffled, humbled. And yeah, aroused. So damn aroused. The length of her glossy hair spilled around her head, her seemingly delicate shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed a lovely rose, and her lips were plump and parted, her every breath shallow and laced with need.
No matter how strong and valid his fears, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, spit on her gift to him.
“I’ve, uh, never had sex,” he admitted. “Never been with anyone.”
Those exquisite eyes widened. “You’re a virgin?”
A stiff nod, cheeks flushing.
“Because of your arms?”
Another nod.
“Oh, Hector.” A moan of excitement. “I’m glad. I like that. Want to be the first.”
He leaned down … down … until her nipples were pushed against his chest, needy little peaks that enthralled him. She wigged until her thighs were outside his, trembling, locking around his hips. Damn, but she felt good.
“I told you. I don’t want to hurt you,” he croaked out.
“Then you’re going to have to give me everything you can.”
That wasn’t much, but damn if he wouldn’t do everything in his power to make every second they spent in this bed the best of her life.
And there was the voice of te
mptation, luring him into danger.
Can’t resist. “I’ll make you come without using my hands.” He’d never tried that with anyone, but with her … “Do you want me to make you come?”
White teeth nibbled on her bottom lip, plumping and reddening the luscious petal further. Undoing him. “Yes, please.”
“You just tell me how, then, and it’s done.” Whatever she suggested, he would try. He had very little experience with a woman’s pleasure, but damn it, he would try. He desired her, had dreamed of her too many nights, had fantasized so many times reality was now blurred.
If, at any point, the burning and itching flared up in his arms, he would stop.
Stopping would probably kill him, but he would do it.
“Let’s start with something small, easy. Like a kiss. Yes. Kiss me,” she pleaded, breathless. “We’ve done that before, and nothing bad happened. Right?”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. Her tongue swept over her lips, leaving a gloss of moisture. His cock twitched, a lance of need shooting through him. Any minute now, and his zipper would bust, he was so full and hard.
He scooted off her, off the bed, and stood at the edge. She remained splayed on the mattress, her hair spilled around her, and her dress bunched just under her waist, hiding her panties. Fucking gorgeous. “Sit up for me,” he croaked. Things were less likely to fly out of control that way.
Still trembling, she pulled herself up, hair cascading into place. What he would have given to run his fingers through the strands. He knelt in front of her, placing himself a little lower than eye level.
“If I burn you, scare you, do anything you don’t like, tell me.”
“I will.” A feverish sigh.
Whether she would actually do so or not, he didn’t know. He wouldn’t risk her safety, though, not in any way, so he would remain vigilant. He would fuel her passion without becoming lost in his own. Something he’d never done. But for her … anything.
“Hector.” She leaned into him and pressed their lips together. Her tongue swept inside his mouth, her intoxicating flavor exploding through him. As sweet as before, with a splash of something darker, richer.
Dark Taste of Rapture Page 19
