No Fear

by Allie Harrison

  She shivered uncontrollably against him. Without moving away from her, he grabbed a large towel and wrapped it around her naked form. She needed his help. He didn’t need to see her naked or feel her softness pressed against him. He needed to get her calm.

  “I couldn’t get out! The water was almost over my head! The door handle was broken and wouldn’t open! I thought I was going to drown!” Her words didn’t make any sense.

  She’d thought she was drowning?

  Deke had seen into the shower stall. The only water was the spray from the showerhead, quickly running down the drain, but he didn’t tell her this.

  She also cried that the faucet knob was gone and the shower handle was broken. Both of which were plainly in place. Deke reached in and turned off the water.

  Her robe hung from a hook on the back of the bathroom door, and he wrapped that around her over the towel. Then he carried her out of the room. She felt like the most precious gift in his arms. Gently, he touched his chin to her forehead as he easily carried her to the living room, which felt amazingly cold after the bathroom’s heat. Deke deposited her gently on the sofa, then let go of her long enough to blow out all the candles and close and lock the window before covering her with the throw that draped over the back of the couch.

  Only then, did she seem to recognize him.

  “You’re Officer Price.” Her words were broken as her teeth chattered.

  “Yes.”

  “How did you know I needed help?” she asked.

  “I heard you call for help.” He closed the door and because he’d busted the latch and the lock when he kicked it in, he now took one of the kitchen chairs and wedged it under the knob to secure it.

  “If you could hear me, I wonder why Quinn couldn’t.” She glanced around the apartment and frowned. “I wonder where he went.”

  Deke sat down on the sofa beside her, and gazing deeply into her eyes, said, “Tell me about Quinn.”

  She reached out to him, and he took her hand in his. Then she began to talk.

  * * * *

  James’s heart pounded at the idea of making love with Emma, of touching her as he had dreamed of touching her. For five years, after holding her in his arms as he’d carried her to Doc’s, he’d wanted nothing more.

  Now, still beneath the spray of the shower with Emma, he felt as if he walked a tightwire. She didn’t know what she asked of him. She didn’t understand the power of her words, of her invitation. She had just invited a vampire into her soul, into her body. For James, making love with her would be more than a simple act of sex, more than even a sharing of want or desire with her, more than a simple expression of love and feelings, and especially more than a heated exchange of lust and hormones. Once he made love with her, their paths would be tied forever, their destinies joined as one. Like a wolf that mated for life, she would belong to him in a way she’d never before dreamed possible. And she didn’t understand the consequences of this action. James didn’t even understand it.

  He swallowed hard, working to keep down the bitter mixture of anticipation and dread. Then he let her go, needing to put distance between them.

  “No, don’t leave me,” she said reaching for him, holding him to her. Her hands were warm, her touch electrifying, sending his blood racing through his veins.

  James thought touching her was a great deal like touching an electrified fence. And he knew that once he wrapped his hand about it, he wouldn’t be able to let go.

  “You’re in shock,” he told her, his voice gruff. “You’re afraid. You’re being forced to face things you haven’t had to face in five years, and you’re letting all your emotions control you right now. You don’t know what you’re asking,” he added. The last thing she needed was to feel regret afterwards. The last thing he needed was to see that regret in her eyes. She might hate him when she learned the truth. He knew he couldn’t live seeing hate every time she looked in his direction.

  “I know exactly what I’m asking,” she insisted.

  He shook his head. “No, you don’t. If we do this—”

  “I dreamed about us making love last night,” she admitted. “And I’ve wanted nothing but to make that dream a reality ever since. If you want to get right down to it, I think I’ve wanted to make love with you since long before that, like maybe when you came in last year so I could bandage up your first accident. Or maybe even the first time I saw you. Please.” She reached down and unbuttoned the jeans she wore.

  He tried not to watch her movements, tried not to pay attention to the seductive way she moved. He wasn’t certain he believed her words. She was a mere mortal. She might think she knew what she wanted, might even think she understood the consequences, but he knew she didn’t. Still, could the need be as strong within her as it was within him? Had her soul long ago recognized him as her mate, as his had recognized her?

  James knew he should turn and walk away. Making love with her now, when she was cold and afraid and vulnerable, was taking advantage of her. It would make him no better than the enemy who had hurt her five years ago. In fact, it would make him worse, because he knew she was meant to be his. He should wait and let her come to him when this was over and she wasn’t running on terror. He took one step toward the door.

  “I never thought you were a coward, James,” she said softly. Yet her words were filled with enough challenge to stop him.

  He met her gaze through the spray of water. She stood before him, showing more courage than she should, he thought. If she had any inkling of what would follow their lovemaking, she wouldn’t be so bold.

  Slowly, she ran her tongue across her lips. James didn’t need to see that. He clenched his fists tightly and closed his eyes.

  “Wet pants show exactly how you react to me, James,” she said seductively.

  Of that he had no doubt. His need for her had reached the near-painful level. Still he tried to ignore her words. Let her think him a coward. He didn’t care, as long as she was safe and didn’t end up hating him. “Emma, I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he said. Boy, did that sound lame. Maybe he should tell her the truth. That might scare some sense into her. “Besides, making love with me will change you, it will change our relationship,” he added, knowing it was the truth, but it sounded just as lame.

  She smiled slowly. “I’m certain it will. And it’s what I want—for our relationship to go to the next level. Just as I want you to take advantage of me. Making love with you will make me more alive, just like in my dream. I want it to change me. You told me in the dream that it’s supposed to feel good. I want to know how good, and I want to feel it with you,” she said as she forced the wet jeans down her legs. “I want that dream to be real. I want more than just a pipe dream that fades away with the morning light.”

  Hell, she wore pink panties, just as she had in that dream. Wet, they clung to her and revealed every aspect of her body.

  James grasped her arms and stopped her as she moved to peel them off. “I assure you, if we do this, it will never fade away with the light. I also think you’ll regret it, and I couldn’t handle it if you did.” He didn’t tell her that her rejection of him might be enough to kill him.

  “If it feels as good as you say, I won’t regret it.”

  He had no doubt it was going feel wonderful. Just as he had no doubt that when she found out he was a vampire, she would regret it. He nearly chuckled at the idea. Regretting it would be an understatement. And just wait until she found out he was as powerful a monster as the one who stalked the island. She would really hate him then. And while he knew the idea that a vampire would die when rejected by his soul mate was really only legend, he actually thought if he lost her now, he couldn’t live without her. “I don’t want you to hate me,” he tried.

  “I could never hate you.”

  “Yes, you could. Believe me.”

  To his amazement, she merely shook her head. And she blinked and smiled at him seductively.

  “Please show me how good it will
feel,” she begged. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

  James groaned and thought he might disintegrate into a million pieces. The truth was he was terrified of how it would feel. Until he’d touched Emma, he hadn’t wanted a woman since his transformation many, many years ago, but he knew instinctively that it would be far different than what he’d experienced as a human man. He also knew that once he had her, he would only want more.

  He thought he could convince her to be patient a while longer. He thought he would have time to explain so many things to her, let her make the decision with a clear mind, without any fear that might be pushing her in his direction.

  But then she peeled away her panties and stood before him, boldly offering herself to him.

  There would be no more waiting—for either of them.

  In less than a second, in less time than the blink of an eye, she was in his arms. All wet and warm and soft, she molded against him as he pressed his lips against hers hungrily. His tongue commingled with and tested and tasted hers. The sweet, now-familiar taste of her sent his senses reeling, as the shower spray beat against them. The way she kissed him, with the same fervor as his own, sent his need for her to unimaginable heights. Everything about her—the softness of her skin, the musky, alluring scent of her, and her warmth that surrounded him—invited him to take her and make her his completely. It took nearly all of his energy to keep his fangs hidden. He fought to keep the monster within him at bay. She had no idea that within less than a second, he could rip her clothes from her and possess her body. To help keep himself in constant control, he held each side of her face in his hands. The softness beneath his palms grounded him, curbed the animal within him, and worked to remind him of how fragile she was and how easily he could hurt her. One kiss blended into another. Her lips met his with equal passion and equal fire. He knew that for all of time, he would never grow tired of her, never get his fill of her.

  Emma felt as if she melted beneath James’s kiss. For this one moment, for the first time in a very long time, she felt completely free. James’s hands on her cheeks were warm. His chest where she pressed her palms was just as warm.

  And just when she thought she might die of need, James moved his hands subtly, expertly, over her wet back, pressing her closer to him until she wasn’t certain where she ended and he began. His touch sent bolts of electricity through her entire body. His kiss left her feeling lightheaded, as if she were under water instead of it merely spraying over her. For the first time since they’d left James’s house, since she’d slept under his roof, she was truly warm inside and out.

  James was aroused. Emma felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against her belly, and the thought she could have that much control over him gave her a heady feeling and left her heart pounding. He had a dusting of hair on his chest, and it tickled her nipples, making them tingle. Sliding her hands around to his back, she relished in the leathery-soft but firm feel of his skin. She wasn’t certain as to what she really wanted or even what she expected from James. But she knew what she didn’t want. She didn’t want him to stop touching her. She didn’t want any distance between her body and his. She didn’t want him to let her go. Ever.

  “This is wrong, Emma,” he whispered harshly. “You don’t understand what could happen if I make love to you.”

  He tried to put space between them. She grasped his arms and held him to her. Then she pressed her lips to his and teased him with her tongue. “I know, you’re worried that I could get pregnant, but I’m not worried. I want this. I want you. And can you honestly say this feels wrong?” she asked.

  “No,” he admitted. “But you don’t understand—”

  “And what about this? Does this feel wrong?” She cut off his words as she pressed her open palms against his backside and pulled her body closer to his. His pelvis fit against hers like a puzzle piece. Nothing had ever felt so wonderfully perfect.

  “No,” he admitted again.

  She cupped her hand against his crotch and felt the hardness of him through his wet pants.

  James sucked in a breath.

  “Then what are you waiting for?” She leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

  Maybe the legend was wrong.

  All James knew was he couldn’t fight his need for her any longer. He kissed her hard, his mouth slanting against hers.

  A long moment later, he grasped her arms and pulled himself away from her. Looking deeply into her eyes through the steam that surrounded them, he said, “Tell me you won’t regret this. Promise me.”

  “I promise,” she said without hesitation.

  He kissed her again. Emma didn’t remember him moving. Just as she never noticed him ever breaking their kiss. All she knew was that he was suddenly as naked as she. The heat of him touched her everywhere, and he was hotter than the water that cascaded down them. His legs pressed against her thighs, and she felt the strength in them, the defined, perfect muscles. His toes touched hers. Her skin nearly burned where his palms slipped across her back, her hips, and her body. When he reached down behind her and grasped her buttocks, holding her and pressing her against him, she groaned and thought she might melt right into him.

  When he finally broke the kiss and simply held her, Emma felt her breaths entering her lungs one after another, sounding ragged. She licked her lips, bringing some moisture to her mouth.

  James reached behind her and turned off the shower.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, alarmed that he’d changed his mind.

  “Taking you over here.” He took her hand and led her out of the shower and toward the pool.

  Normally, she would be cold again, stepping out into the room air after being under the shower’s hot spray, but oddly, James’s hand in hers was enough to warm her.

  He led her to the end of the pool where there was only the gentle sloping that led into the water. The pool water was only slightly cooler than the shower’s, but James’s warmth continued to spread through her.

  “I’d take you to bed, but there’s so much more energy here close to the water,” James said. His intense gaze met hers. “Can you feel it?”

  Emma thought his eyes shined with silver flecks, and she thought she could drown in his gaze. “I feel it,” she agreed, yet she thought the energy came more from James than from the water. Still, at that moment, she would agree with whatever he said, do whatever he wanted, go wherever he wanted. Besides, she loved the feel of the water, always had. And this was her pool, her special place. The rest of the house belonged to Doc, so this seemed like the most logical place to make love with James.

  In the next moment, she was lying down, the smooth slope of the pool warm against her back. The warmth of the water covered her legs and went nearly to the middle of her back. James lay down beside her, and his heat meshed against hers. The feel of water had always cleansed her, always refreshed her. Now it was mixed with the warmth of James. At the combination, Emma moaned. Perhaps he was right; perhaps there was energy in the water.

  He lay on his side and faced her, his head resting on his hand, his other hand on her abdomen, moving in a slow circular motion, spreading water about her skin and mixing with the warmth of his touch, making her feel slightly dizzy.

  “I’d—like to look at you,” Emma said hesitantly.

  “Please do,” he invited, as he moved his hand up her body and kneaded her breast gently, but possessively. “I plan to look at you, too.”

  She let her gaze roam over him. He was all muscle, lean and perfect and sculpted, his legs seeming longer without pants. The dusting of body hair matched that on his head. His hips and thighs were trim. Slowly, she moved her gaze downward, taking in the rest of his body. At his pelvis, she gave pause. He was thick and aroused, his need unmistakable. Hesitantly, she reached out to touch him. Her hand shook slightly.

  “Emma?” Despite her bravado, James felt Emma’s fear, understood it and her hesitation. It was as evident as the desire he felt flowing within her, like a hot
river beneath his fingertips. “Do you like my touch?” he asked as he moved his hand to her other breast.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I like to feel your touch, too, sweetheart. Please put both of your hands on me. Don’t be afraid to touch me. Don’t ever be afraid of me.”

  Emma couldn’t deny his request. She put both hands on his chest. His skin was leather-soft beneath her palms, with the hardness of muscle beneath. She felt his ribs. She felt the contour of his muscles. His nipples were hard and erect, matching hers. Beneath her palm, she felt his heart pounding in his chest, also matching the beat of hers.

  Then he gently grasped one of her wrists and guided her hand to touch him as no woman had touched him since he’d been turned. He moaned under the hesitant warmth of her hand.

  “Do you like that?” she whispered, liking the power her touch had over him. Yet, at the same time, she was hesitant to wield that power.

  “Is that a trick question?” he asked, his voice sounding both tight and amused.

  “No.”

  “I love it.” He moved his hand down the length of her and touched her intimately, sliding beyond her folds to caress the core of her.

  Emma gasped and stiffened slightly at the sudden invasion.

  “Does this feel as good as it did in your dream?” he asked, his soft words echoing off the walls and the water.

  “Better,” she admitted, arching against his hand. “It feels better.”

  James leaned over and claimed Emma’s lips once again. Then he moved his kiss down her body. At her throat, he paused, tasting the salty-sweetness of her skin, feeling her life’s blood pulse beneath his lips. It would be so easy—quick and simple—to taste her. Knowing how simple it had been for him to slip into her dream the night before, he knew he could take a taste and he could control her so she would not even know.

  The thought was enough to change his teeth in an instant. One effortless bite, and he would taste her blood. Because she was his soul mate, her blood would taste sweeter than any other, like perfect honey to a bear. She would be a feast. He could drink of her. Then he could slip into her and make love to her. She would be powerless to stop him. She would be like clay beneath his hands, and he could mold her into any shape he wanted. And she would want everything he did to her. Then he could fill her with his venom, and she would belong to him forever.