“Dex…” A tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
Dex slowly, carefully, reached out and gathered that tear on the tip of his thumb. He wiped the wetness away, letting his fingertips linger on the column of her neck. A silky, delicious tremor of unadulterated lust shot through her lower belly.
“That’s what you are to me, Syd,” he said in a husky, painful whisper. “When you’re not around, I feel like a drowning man. My heart still beats. My lungs still breathe. But it’s like there’s nothing there. Like I’m fighting for something I can’t even see. But you…”
He stepped closer, cupping his hand around her cheek. “It’s not like you take something away when you leave me behind. It’s more like…more like you bring life back whenever you return. Like I’m no longer fighting just to stay alive.” His eyes turned to molten amber, lit by glowing flecks of emerald. “You make me want to fight so I can keep on living. I love you, Syd. I think I always have.”
And just like that, Sydney melted. Her badass façade lay in tatters at feet. With that simple declaration, he’d broken through her resistance, torn down her walls, and exposed the very heart of her.
And it scared her to death.
She froze. Dex’s gaze never wavered, his whole heart shining through his eyes. The light inside him was breathtaking, overpowering.
A heartbeat.
Two.
Sydney opened her mouth…and nothing came out.
Dex sighed. His eyes dimmed, and he let his hand fall away from her face. “Anyway, I just needed you to know that. I can go. I won’t bother you anymore.” He started to turn away.
“I lied to you.” The words escaped before she could call them back.
Dex startled and whipped back to face her. A small frown crinkled his forehead. “About what?”
She tried to wet her lips, but her tongue was too dry. “About everything. I’m not who you think I am, Dex. That’s why you can’t be in love with me. I’m not…” She trailed off, choking on a dry throat. She tried clearing it. “There are things you don’t know about me. Things I can’t…”
“I don’t care,” Dex whispered. His brow smoothed, and he reached for her again. When she didn’t pull away, he wrapped his big hand around the back of her neck and pulled her a half-step closer. “Syd, I don’t care. I know you’ve got secrets. Hell, every darkling hunter has secrets. That has nothing to do with how I feel.”
“It does,” she replied in a hoarse, almost desperate whisper. “Dex, I promise you it does. And I know…” A harsh laugh escaped. “I know how much you hate liars. I don’t want us to be together with this…secret…hanging over our heads. I can’t…I can’t do this…without letting you know the truth.”
She expected him to get angry, to storm away in disgust. Instead, he cocked his head and took another half-step closer. The ice-cold fabric of his shirt brushed against her thin terry-cloth robe, sending goosebumps up and down her arms. “You said you lied. Secrets aren’t lies.”
“A lie of omission is still a lie,” she replied with a pained grimace.
Dex lifted his other hand, wrapped it around the back of her head, and let his fingers trail along her hair. He was so close now, she could feel the heat coming off him in waves. The delicious contrast between the heat of his body and the icy wetness of his clothing was nearly overpowering. He bent his head, forehead brushing hers, and slowly, slowly, tasted her lips. She let out a whimpery moan.
“Do you want me, Sydney Carpenter?” he whispered against her lips. He kissed one corner, trailing velvety softness along her cheek.
Her heart beat like a terrified hummingbird. Without even realizing it, she’d let go of the robe, allowing it to fall open, and placed her hands on his hips. The tight, wet fabric of his jeans slid against her palms. Sydney was the one trembling now, fighting for calm, fighting the urge to rip the offending garment away so she could revel in the heated skin beneath. He was intoxicating. Addicting. Too damned perfect to be real.
“Answer me,” he said, just a breathless whisper against her mouth.
Sydney panted, desperate for air. She wet her lips, did it again, and groaned when he ran the tip of his tongue where he own tongue had been. Reaching for her last scrap of sanity, she whispered, “What about Sam?”
That made him pull back—but not too far. He studied her face, her eyes, as if the secrets of the universe were contained there. Finally, he asked, “What about him?”
She risked licking her lips again and fought another groan as his eyes darted toward the movement. “You two are partners. Inseparable. How’s he going to feel when you…when we…”
Dex slid his fingertips underneath the collar of her robe and pulled her hair free, so that it spilled down her back. “We can talk about…Sam…another time. Right now, tonight, this is about you and me.”
“Dex…”
“Just answer me,” he pleaded, voice nothing but a low rumble in his throat. “Do you want me, Syd?”
She stared at him.
Closed her eyes.
Opened them again.
Took a deep breath.
And finally whispered, “Yes. Yes, I want you. I love you. I always have.”
His eyes lit up so fast it was like firecrackers went off behind them. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and mashing her to his chest, and practically lifted her off her feet. He kissed her, deep and hard. Sydney wallowed in it, drowned in it, getting lost in the taste, feel, and smell of him. And oh, God, he smelled good. Mountain storm mixed with the virility of man. Intoxicating combination. She could stay like this, be like this, forever if it came to that.
But it wouldn’t come to that. She couldn’t let it.
With a desperate little cry, Sydney pulled her mouth away. She rested her forehead on his chest, uncaring of the cold fabric between them, and took in several giant breaths. When she finally got control of herself, she looked up and him and said, “I need to tell you something. Something important. I can’t let you do this without knowing the truth about me. Dex, I—”
“One week,” he said breathlessly.
“What?”
“Give me one week,” he repeated. She looked up into his eyes and saw a mix of wild determination and desperate lust. “Give me that much time to prove myself to you.”
“Prove yourself?” She blinked, incredulous. “Dex, I’m the one—”
“Let me prove what kind of man I can be,” he said fiercely. “Let me show you what we can be like, together. One week, Syd. Give me one week to prove that whatever your secret is, we can handle it. Together.”
Her heart fluttered. “Dex…I really need—”
“One week.” He rested his forehead against hers, holding her so close their bodies seemed to meld into one cohesive unit. “That’s all I ask. Let me prove myself to you. Let me prove it doesn’t matter what came before. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Just let me show you it doesn’t matter. Not to me. All that matters is here and now, you and me. Please. Let me prove it to you.”
What about Sam? She almost asked the question again, but the words stayed frozen in her throat. Sam was a part of this, whether Dex wanted to admit it or not. Not just for her sake—for his sake, too. But he probably wasn’t ready for that revelation. Not on top of everything else she had to tell him.
And she did need to tell him. This wasn’t some fluttery little confession of previous misdeeds. This would change everything—especially the way he felt about her. She couldn’t let it happen to him. Couldn’t make him think she’d been stringing him along all this time. There were good reasons, damn good reasons, why she kept to herself so much of the time. Why she never let anyone, especially Dex and Sam, get close.
“One week,” Dex whispered again. “Please, Syd. Give me that much.”
She fisted her hands in his shirt, squeezing her eyes shut. Then she wrapped her hands around his neck, went up on her tip-toes, and whispered, “I can give you that much.”
His eyes lit
again, and he swooped in for a kiss—but she blocked it with a finger between their lips. Dex froze, uncertainty dancing in his eyes. She pulled back and gave him a hard, uncompromising look. “I’ll give you one week, Dexter Peterson. One week for us to see…whatever this is. But I need a promise in return.”
“What promise?” The words came out as a lust-soaked groan despite his obvious attempts to remain focused on her words. “Anything you want.”
“Then I want your word as a Marine,” she said in a fierce, no-nonsense voice. “Seven days from now, I’m going to tell you my secrets. And you’re going to listen, whether you want to or not. If you can promise me that, if you can swear on your honor as a Marine, that you will allow me to tell you the truth about myself…” She swallowed hard. “Then…then we can see where the night takes us.”
Open lust vied with uncertainty in his eyes. Sydney well understood that feeling. She’d been fighting it, off and on, since the moment she met Dex and Sam. On the one hand, she wanted them—both of them—with a fierceness that took her breath away. On the other, she knew that if they knew who she truly was, if all their secrets were laid out on the table, their whole world would shatter. But the truth had to come out, for better or worse. At the very least, Dex and Sam could finally come to grips with their unspoken need for each other.
At the very worst, they’d run from her in honest terror. It had happened to her before, more times than she could count. Nothing in her life remained constant, especially the affections of a man who knew who she truly was. And this time? This time would be no different.
But she could still have one week. One week to bask in the wonder that was Dex Peterson. And if she played her cards right, perhaps even get a chance to taste both of them—together, and separately. That opportunity, no matter how fleeting, would be worth the heartache afterward.
Or so she hoped.
“One week,” she said out loud. “Then we face the truth.” Her throat closed on her next word. “Agreed?”
Dex stared at her. His frown deepened, then smoothed to a serene, idyllic façade. With one hand, he tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck.
With the other, he pushed the robe off her shoulders.
“One week,” he finally agreed, as if she were the one who’d proposed it. “On my honor as a Marine.” He said it as a promise. A declaration. A certainty.
It might as well have been a death sentence.
But oh, what a glorious way to finally die…
Sydney groaned, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him fiercely.
Chapter 5
She was his. Thank God Almighty and the Heavens above, Sydney Carpenter was finally his. Dex molded himself to her, reveling in the feel of her soft, voluptuous body. She felt so good, tasted so good, smelled so fucking good, he wanted to drown in the perfection of it all. She was his. Finally, finally, his.
But just for one week.
No, Dex thought fiercely, kissing her even harder. He wouldn’t let it come to that. He’d use every trick in the whole damn book—cross-referenced, itemized, annotated, and indexed, goddamn it—to make her see just how perfect they were for each other. By the time these seven days were over, she wouldn’t even remember what it was like to be without him. He’d make sure of it.
“You’re still trembling,” Sydney whispered, pressing herself against him. “Cold?”
Dex tried to chuckle, but it came out somewhat strangled. “No. Trying to convince myself this is real.” He paused for a gulp, looking down into gorgeous ice-blue eyes. He pressed his forehead to hers and tenderly held her waist. “Almost can’t believe you’re still letting me touch you. I’ve wanted you so long, Sydney Carpenter. I’m almost afraid—”
“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” Sydney purred, licking the corner of his mouth before nibbling down the side of his neck. He shivered, and she chuckled as she gathered the hem of his t-shirt between her fingers. “You really are an idiot, you know. Why the hell would you walk here in the freezing rain?”
“I didn’t walk,” Dex grumbled as he held out his arms, letting her slide the wet fabric up his chest. “I double-timed it.”
She laughed. “Oh, well, in that case.” Her eyes twinkled. “Still, it must have been freezing.”
Not that he’d noticed. In all honesty, he was so hot right now, he was surprised his clothes hadn’t steamed dry right on him. But, now that she mentioned it, it was getting a bit nipply in here. That thought got him thinking about other things—like shrinkage.
“On second thought, I could use a warm-up,” he said, smiling as she laughed.
“Then you’ll have to help me, Mr. Giant,” she said, bunching his shirt around his ribcage to emphasize her point. Even stretching on her tip-toes, she wouldn’t be able to get the shirt off his head and arms without his help. “Short girl problems, remember?”
Dex chuckled and slicked the wet t-shirt over his head. Sydney let out a sexy little hum and ran both hands over his abs. “Damn, Dex. Do you have any idea how perfect you are? Guys like you are the reason girls have wet dreams.”
“Says the walking wet dream,” he rumbled. She wore nothing but a thin black camisole and boy shorts that showed off her spectacular ass, and Jesus-fuck-on-a-pogo-stick, she looked good. He rested his hands on her waist, letting his thumbs glide along the exposed skin just below her cami, and guided her backward toward the bed. She got up on the thin mattress, kneeling in front of him, which put her mouth in easy reach. He kissed her hungrily, getting drunk on the sweet taste, wishing he could have it all at once yet never wanting it to end. Sydney let out a little anticipatory hum, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him forward as she lay back.
Dex went willingly, stretching out on top of her. He kept his weight balanced on his elbows and knees—two-hundred pounds was a lot to lay on a woman her size, and he didn’t want to crush her. Sydney fisted the back of his hair, kissing him hard as she wrapped her legs around his waist. When he still held himself aloof, she let out a frustrated little snarl, did some sinuous little twist with her hips, and mashed her lower body tight against his, pulling his full weight down on top of her.
She gasped. He immediately tried to shift upward, afraid of hurting her. But she shook her head, legs still trapping him hard against her, and tugged at the waistband of his jeans. “Jeans. Wet. Take them off.”
He couldn’t help a chuckle. “Sorry. I was trying not to get you wet.”
“Complete mission failure,” she said in a husky whisper. “I was wet the moment you walked in. Jeans. Off. Now.”
“So pushy,” he chuckled, kissing her thoroughly before balancing on one elbow and sliding a hand between them. But her fingers were already there, working the button and zipper like a consummate pro. He let out a hard, desire-soaked gasp as her fingers cupped him through his boxer shorts. “Fuck, Syd. Do that too many times, and this is going to be over before it starts.”
“Then let’s make sure we finish with a bang,” she said, squeezing him hard enough to make him grunt.
Dex nodded, too breathless to speak, and wiggled backward down off the edge of the bed. Never in his life had wanted to get clothes off so fast, but the damn jeans were sticking to his skin. Peeling them off felt like peeling off a wetsuit, but he finally managed it, kicking off his boots at the same time. He left his boxers on, for now, and looked back at Sydney—and just stared.
She looked like an angel. Her black hair had formed a halo around her head, the contrast of her pale arms against the dark color of her camisole making it look like she had wings. She was propped on her elbows, knees closed demurely as she looked him up and down. She licked her lips, and the fire in those ice-blue eyes was hot enough to burn.
“Come here,” she said in dark, husky whisper.
He didn’t need to be told twice. Dex crawled onto the bed, sliding his hands up the curves of her long, sexy legs. She let out a needy little moan, arching her back, so her tits strained the fabri
c of her shirt. Dex hummed approvingly, then bent his head to run his tongue along the inside of her thigh. She parted her knees for him, so willing and eager it made him want to shout a victory cry. The firm, succulent muscle of her thigh was too hard to resist—he bit down, hard. The sound she made sent shivers right down to his cock.
He took his time, marveling at the feel of her beneath his lips. Velvety soft and oh, so luscious, yet still firm from the play of muscle underneath. He nibbled both thighs, alternating back and forth, loving every twitch and whimper. When his explorations led him closer to the tantalizing mound between her legs, the scent of her arousal made him almost giddy. He ran his tongue along her panty line while purposefully avoiding the temptation of her pussy. Sydney gasped, then groaned—then took a fistful of hair at the back of his head and forced him to put his mouth right over her mons.
Dex growled and started teasing her clit through the fabric of her panties. Salt and honey and sweet-hot sassafras—that’s what this woman’s arousal tasted like. She’d soaked the front panel with her juices, proving that his wet jeans weren’t the source of the damp. Dex hummed with pleasure, using a combination of the vibration and the tip of his tongue to manipulate the top of her mound. Sydney cried out, holding him down while lifting her hips upward, grinding herself against his face. Dex shoved his hands beneath her buttocks, helping her lift up, and went to town on her.
After several minutes, she started fumbling with the waistband of her boy shorts, trying to pull them down while keeping his tongue in contact with her clit. Dex teased her, holding the fabric in place with his thumbs and refusing to let her push them out of the way, until she let out a demanding snarl. Chuckling, he finally slipped his fingertips beneath the elastic and yanked the fabric downward. He buried his mouth in her clean-shaven, perfect little pussy and tasted the glory that was Sydney Carpenter straight from the source.
She came in his mouth, a sudden gush of white-hot desire, arching her back and gasping his name. Dex held her down, working her clit harder, faster, as she thrashed and moaned above him. A few seconds later, she came again, this time clamping her thighs around his head and grinding her pussy lips against his chin. Dex growled his approval, lapping up every drop, and didn’t stop until she collapsed with a gasping, sated huff.
The Darkling Hunters_Fox Company Alpha Page 6
