Still, the need for her throbbed between his thighs, causing the blood to pulse in his cock as he once again swore he could feel her behind him, her breath on the back of his neck, hot, ready, crying out for the kind of release only he could give her.
Before the night was done, he would know how it felt to sink his hands into her lush hair and to taste her lips. This he vowed as he began stalking his prey, his eyes on her body as it softly swayed and moved through the crowd uneasily.
* * * * *
For the fiftieth time that night, Kira’s heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. If she didn’t know any better, she would think someone had played an awful trick on her. How could anyone outside of her company know what the new video game cover looked like? Someone had to have leaked the information because the man standing across the room from her, the man who seemed to be heading her way, was dressed exactly as her hero was on the new cover. He towered over most of the men in the crowd, and his shoulders were wider than her hips! If a Greek god could lend his body to a mere mortal, this man would have it.
He was massive, well over six feet tall, and was built like a romance novel cover model. And heaven help her if the slight pout on his lips didn’t jar her for a second, sending her to another place and time. Maybe she had known him before. He was certainly eyeing her with interest, making her wonder if she had once been the kind of woman who could attract a man like him. His long, dark hair hung to his waist and was twisted in various braids. The square set of his jaw warned that if his full lips ever smiled, she would lose her heart, and his gray eyes were so intense she could practically feel them sweeping across her as the rest of the room faded away into nothing.
Her breath hung in her throat as she watched his corded muscles move beneath the fabric of his black robes. There was little to the imagination as both his large chest and his ample crotch were on display for everyone to see. All one had to do was let the eyes wander south, and the mysteries of the man would be more than evident beneath his tight leather pants.
Throbbing need flashed through her body at the thought. Ever since she had stepped into the room it felt as if her hormones were in overdrive. Her fingers dug tiny half-moons into her palms as she tried to still her ragged breath, which seemed to rage even further out of control as she watched his long, muscular legs glide across the room, moving him closer and closer with every step he took. Her tongue darted out of her mouth, wetting her lips as anticipation crawled up her back. God, to have her hands on him! This was what she needed this weekend. He was what she needed. A man who could fulfill the kinds of fantasies the men in her video game only hinted at.
And he looked so much like her hero. A neatly trimmed beard covered his chin, making his mouth appear to be a forbidden sensual treat. She licked her lips just thinking about how it would feel to run her tongue along his upper lip and feel the hair tickling her skin. She could only imagine what it would do to other, more sensitive parts of her body, parts which had only been touched by the man who came to her in her dreams.
The mysterious mouth was not the end of his appeal. His deep gray eyes spoke volumes to her from across the room. He was a man with a past, probably with more baggage than she had, something she didn’t really need. But he also looked as if he had a dangerous edge, like there was some wild man living inside the civilized—okay, partially civilized—demeanor. Dressed like an ancient magician but looking more like a warrior, he had to be one of those romance cover models. Those guys often frequented these events, seeking work as video game character models. If that was the case, then this guy was so far out of her league she couldn’t even see home plate.
Nobody like that would ever want the formerly frumpy Kira. She grabbed the edges of the blue stone that hung around her neck, mustering up false courage. He would want Kira, Video Game Goddess. She could rule this convention with an iron fist if she wanted, her game being one of the most successful in the past year. If only she could pull herself out of her shell long enough to find the man and say, “Hey, baby, you wanna go up to my room and screw my brains out?”
Okay, even Kira, Warrior Princess, wouldn’t come up with that line. No, she would just watch him all night, wondering how it would feel to be wrapped in his strong arms, to feel those sensual lips close in on hers, to feel his body sliding against hers in the heat of passion. Then she would go back up to her room and use the glass dildo Mariah had given her as a “going-away present” last week. “Just in case,” the petite blonde had shrugged when Kira opened the present. Yeah, if ever there was a just in case, he was Mr. Greek God. Yum-my!
But she knew deep down inside that she wasn’t ready for a wild weekend, and as his eyes stayed locked on hers, she felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a runaway train. And she knew she had to do something to get away.
“Kira Montgomery!” Saved.
Kira turned slowly, unsure if she could break the gaze with Mr. Video Game God. His eyes burned into her back, sending out a warning she couldn’t readily miss as an unfamiliar voice echoed in her head. You’re mine. “Constance, how are you?”
Even as Kira wrapped her arms around her former co-worker, she felt the eyes on her, but she was more than thankful for the reprieve.
“I’m great. How are you? Famous video game designer now, I see.”
Constance looked exactly as she had five years ago when Kira had still been on the road to recovery and was only beginning to play around with computer animation, much to Leland’s dismay. Five-foot-ten and gorgeous. She was the kind of girl guys walked across the room for. Until tonight, no one had ever crossed the room for her, no one except the man who still kept a close watch over her even though his approach had come to a halt.
“Not so famous.”
“Come on, everyone here is buzzing about your game and the unveiling of the new cover. Tell me, did you really have a gorgeous cover model to pose for you?”
If only. She had never seen the guy before except in her dreams. And her rendition of him was sadly lacking when the real thing stood just a few yards away from her.
“No, there was no model.”
“Well, come on to the bar with me. We have to catch up. I design for Starr Games now.”
Constance had always been more of a star than a video game designer, so the occupation seemed to fit. She even wore a pair of tight leather pants with her lace-up corset, something Kira wouldn’t dream of trying to squeeze into.
“Okay, sure.” Anything to get away from those eyes that still threatened to cut right into her and made her body throb with longing from across the room. She swore she could smell him on her, could almost stick out her tongue and lick the air, tasting his fragrance there, nothing but man and sweat and lust—the three things she needed most in her life.
She tried to concentrate on Constance’s voice, listening to the words, but not really focusing on their meanings. Something to do with her job and how much she loved it. Kira hated being inattentive but the man had not yet given up. His pursuit had only changed intensity as he followed them to the bar, staying several steps behind, trying to blend in. As if. That was like trying to hide an elephant behind a two-by-four. It wasn’t likely to happen any time soon.
As she slid into the booth in the hotel’s bar, Kira winced at the cold leather against her backside. Whatever had made her wear a thong? She should have known her dress was bound to ride up at some point in the night, leaving her exposed. But the chill sent a delicious wave of desire through her as she imagined the man’s tongue running along her already swollen clit. Never before had she been this ready for sex. She just knew that if she stood up she would leave a puddle of longing on the bench as proof.
“What’ll it be?” the waiter asked as he approached.
“I’ll take a whiskey sour,” Constance said, smiling at the young man who, Kira was sure, was cute enough. Somehow he didn’t hold a candle to the man who had claimed a seat at the bar.
“I’ll have a glass of champagne.”
<
br /> “Sure thing.”
“I’ll be right back,” Constance announced before sliding out of the booth. Kira watched her walk away before her eyes again locked onto the gray eyes of the stranger, who was once again heading her way.
Bringing out the brassy, bold Kira that she had practiced in the mirror was going to be more difficult than she imagined. Especially now that she had a target in mind. She would give anything to have the nerve to be the kind of woman to pick up a stranger, have wild sex with him and never ask his name. Why was it that some women could and some could only dream about it? She owed it to herself to have a fling, right? As he approached, she tried to force the words out, “Hey, baby…” They never made it, though.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
The man stepped dead in his tracks as Leland eased forward, coming from out of nowhere. Kira watched the stranger’s hands grip into tight fists as his veins bulged his irritation. He took a step backward, blending into the shadows as Leland slid into the booth.
“Leland,” she tried to hide her disgust but failed.
“You look great, babe.”
“What are you doing here?” She tried to compose herself, to keep her voice under control, but it was damned difficult with the man of her dreams lurking somewhere in the darkened bar while the only past she had ever known sat across from her, a smirk plastered on his lips.
“I caught the red-eye. We have to talk. I think you’re in danger.”
“What else is new? I’m always in danger, according to you.”
He ran a hand through his wavy blond hair. He had never worn it this long before, and his eyes bespoke hours spent at the computer, probably analyzing her DNA again. Usually, he was a handsome enough guy, but tonight the stress of his obsession was clear on his face. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”
“Not now. I’m with a friend.”
“Constance. I saw. It won’t take long.”
“Later. She’s coming back in a few minutes.”
“It can’t wait long, Kira. Here’s my cell number.” He scribbled on a napkin and then pushed it toward her. “We have to talk tonight. It’s urgent.”
He slid out of the booth as she folded the napkin. With Leland, everything was urgent. He had been seeking proof of werewolves his whole life. Every time her blood changed, he freaked out. He hadn’t had a sample in a while and was probably needing his fix just to see what her chromosomes were up to. Between his obsession and his damned computer program that was designed to predict changes in her DNA, it was enough to drive her crazy.
But, no, fate had to send in the icing on the crazy cake. The waiter returned just as the man moved from the shadows to slide into the booth, taking Leland’s place.
“Can I get you something, sir?” He placed the drinks in front of Kira as he turned to the stranger.
“That will not be necessary.” The thick accent that rolled off his tongue reminded her of Dracula’s Transylvanian accent, but wasn’t quite as sharp. Tiny chills crept up her back and she flushed beneath his gaze, wishing she were anywhere but there.
“Let me know if you need anything else.” This was directed at Kira, but she couldn’t find her voice to answer before he turned on his heels and headed back to the bar.
Don’t leave me here with him, Kira wanted to scream, but the words died in her throat along with every ounce of courage she possessed. Whoever he was, he was intent upon looking straight into her tonight, something that left her more uncomfortable than she could have ever imagined, even as the heat coursed through her body, warning her that desire often knows no bounds.
Chapter Three
Kira reached for her champagne, hoping the bubbly liquid would calm her nerves. Nothing was likely to help, as his steel gray eyes seemed to look right through her and go straight to her core. She held the glass to her lips, hoping he would speak soon so she wouldn’t have to, hoping the champagne wouldn’t end up a mass of bubbles in her stomach, hoping he’d stop looking at her as if he wanted to eat her alive.
“I am Damon,” he said finally.
She wished his introduction would have had a calming effect. No such luck. Instead, the sound of his name vibrated through her, leaving her all but gasping for breath at the intensity of the invasion. Flashes of memory came to her but none of it made sense. Damon. She should know him. Something inside her screamed out recognition while the rest was just a haze. This is just a coincidence, she silently convinced herself. So he had the same name that had been the only connection to her past that she possessed. It was a common name, wasn’t it?
“I’m Kira.” Safe conversation. Stick to names, occupations, not come to my room, please. Thank God he made no attempt to shake hands. If he had, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to do it without turning into a puddle of mush.
“Kira.” The name fell off his lips as if it were an endearment, and something about the sound of his voice was making her hotter than she’d ever been before.
There was something chemical going on that she couldn’t quite explain. Nearness to a man had never caused her to lose control of her desire in such a way. Her body practically throbbed with longing just looking at the man sitting across from her. It took every ounce of strength she had not to reach out and touch him to see if he was real.
“Yes. I design video games.” Still a safe topic.
“Video games?” He wrinkled his brow, obviously disapproving of her chosen field.
“Yes. Let me guess, you’re a model.” She reached for the champagne again, almost ending up with a lapful of it when the glass teetered beneath her fingertips. She blushed at her clumsiness but recovered quickly enough.
“A model?” All he did was repeat what she said. And he did it in a way that made her body hum with desire. He had only said five or six words to her, but she had already decided that he was the one she wanted to have the wild fling with.
Her eyes strayed to his massive hands. His long, thick fingers made her wonder what they could do to her body. She had a vivid picture of her spread against her hotel bed, legs open, waiting for him to nestle himself between them and drive them both toward ecstasy.
He caught her staring, and she tore her eyes away, but not before an image of him naked made its way into her mind. God, she would give anything to have his hands on her body. Her pussy clenched at the thought of having those long fingers stroke her inner thighs, run along her sides and tangle in her hair. She was staring again. She really needed to stop that.
“So, what do you do?”
“Do?”
God, did the man not know English? He was beautiful, but the way he kept repeating and staring was doing nothing for her self-esteem right now. Why was he here, at her table, when he could be anywhere else? And why did she want to reach out and touch him as if she knew him? She was staring, she knew. And that knowledge caused her to flush all the way down to her chest.
“Yes, what do you do? Are you from New Orleans? What brings you to the convention?” She fired off one question after another, hoping to find some steel inside them, hoping to find something to calm her nerves because the champagne sure as hell wasn’t doing the trick.
“I am from Tyr-LaRoche, and I am here to reclaim something that is mine.”
Now, why were his eyes locked onto her chest as he said the words? God, if he wasn’t a model, he needed to be because one look from him was enough to make her want to buy anything he attempted to sell. But there was more to him than surface good looks. There was a sadness in his eyes, a hint of betrayal as he glared at her, making her feel as if she were the source of his misery.
“Have you found it?” she managed, well aware that her breathing had become labored just being near him.
“Yes, I have found it. It is…”
“I’m back.” Constance had either the best or worst timing in the world.
Damon straightened when she returned. Kira’s back stiffened, hoping the cute blonde wouldn’t slide in next to the man she wanted to claim as h
ers for the weekend.
“Constance, this is…”
He stood, towering over them both. “Damon.”
“Well, Damon, it sure is nice to meet you.” Constance didn’t get a handshake either.
“It is nice to meet you.” He gave her a slight bow before turning back to Kira. “You and I shall finish this later.” There were ten thousand messages hidden in his voice, and every one of them felt like an intimate caress. She watched, dumbstruck, as he left the bar.
“Who was that?” Constance whispered, her eyes following him to the door.
“I have no idea.”
“Wow. You don’t run across one of those too often. Must be a model.”
“Must be.”
* * * * *
Her name was Kira, a fact he had not overlooked. The princess he had stolen, the woman who was his, rightfully his, shared that name. That was not the only similarity. Everything about her, from the way her hand rested on her champagne glass to the way her eyes delved into his soul reminded him of the woman he had known. Looking into her green eyes, it was as if his Kira were in there, somewhere, lost. She needed him as much as he needed her. He was certain of this fact. More importantly, she wore his amulet, which was something that he could not overlook. She belonged to him, and he had every intention of reclaiming her tonight.
Two hours later, Damon’s eyes followed her as she stood before the room, stammering, obviously aware of his attention to her. He made her nervous, uncomfortable, and he excited her. This he could feel from across the room, as if the amulet around her neck were sending her biorhythms to him, making him painfully aware of her inability to concentrate on anything but him.
Never had he known anyone outside of his family to possess the amulet. None had worn it save for himself and his ancestors. There was no way of knowing what it would do to her, but one thing was certain. The absence of the charm combined with the inability to reach out and touch the woman who now possessed it was going to cause him to lose his sanity if he did not recover it soon.
Dragon's Law: Damon Page 4
