Night Rogues [Night 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Leah Brooke

  Serena smiled and reached out to accept the drink he offered, her breath catching when he slid onto the arm of the stuffed chair she sat in. Even though he settled an arm across the back of the chair, she noticed that he didn’t let either his arm or his thigh touch her as he surrounded her protectively.

  He smiled teasingly, but his eyes remained alert.

  She smiled back at him, silently thanking him for being there for her. It felt strange to be so connected to someone else, to feel as if she didn’t have to be alone.

  It was an intoxicating sensation, one that left her lighthearted and almost giddy.

  Running her fingers over Ian’s thigh, she sighed, and decided to tell Anthony Carello what Ian had asked her not to, hating the fact that someone so evil knew something so intimate about her. “I’m afraid my cousin’s husband has been the recipient of some misinformation. My aunt told him that I’m psychic.”

  Amused at the shock from her cousin’s husband, Serena hid her smile by taking a sip of her drink, delighted to find that Ian had fixed her another ginger ale.

  Ian laughed softly, bending over her, his eyes narrowed in warning. “Well, that would have been intriguing, but if you had any idea of the things I want to do to you, you would have already run out in a panic.”

  Carello slid an angry glance at Elise. “You told me she was. Your mother said she was. What the hell’s going on?”

  Elise paled and shot to her feet, pointing at Serena.

  “She is! She’s always been psychic. I told you not to bother with her, but you insisted on having her here. I begged you not to borrow trouble.”

  Taking another sip of his drink, Anthony Carello leaned back, apparently trying to appear unconcerned, when Serena knew he was anything but.

  Ian lifted a brow. “Don’t tell me you believe in things like that, Carello? I can imagine how people would talk if they knew you were hunting down people thought to be psychic. Your men would think you were nuts and con artists would be crawling out of the woodwork, trying to convince you to hire them to tell you all about the future.”

  Carello bristled at the implied threat, his eyes glittering with ice. “Don’t you even think about spreading that around.” He took a deep breath and blew it out, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from his dress trousers.

  “I don’t discount anything. I have to admit, I was interested that my wife’s cousin seemed to have the ability to know things.” He turned to Serena, his eyes sharp.

  “Are you telling me that you’re not psychic?”

  More than a little surprised that she not only knew things about them, she could also read their thoughts, and amused that her cousin’s husband had very little knowledge of exactly what she could do, Serena frowned, pretending to consider his question.

  “What exactly do you think I can do?”

  Carello’s arrogant smile and the evil in his eyes chilled her. “Why don’t you tell me what you can do?”

  Serena smiled, patting Ian’s thigh when he stiffened beside her.

  “I can paint.”

  Elise snorted. “Don’t give me that. Your mother always told my mother how you could see things. She said that you saw the future in your dreams—that you knew things about people you couldn’t have known.” Tilting her head, Elise eyed her mockingly. “Are you going to try to tell me that you can’t do all that? Was your mother a liar?”

  Serena stiffened, her smile falling. “My mother never lied about anything.”

  Turning to her cousin’s husband, Serena lifted a brow, thankful for Ian’s strong presence beside her, and the support she could feel pouring from him.

  “What exactly is it that you want to know, Mr. Carello? Do I know you’re evil? Yes, but then so does everyone else. Do I know that you think I’m a threat to you? Again, yes, but that was pretty obvious when you sent your goons after me. You came here because you’re curious—and scared. It doesn’t take a psychic to figure that out.”

  Carello’s face tightened with fury, turning red. “You don’t scare me! You’re an insignificant little painter—a little small-town girl with dreams of becoming an artist. I told you I’d sponsor a show for you because you’re my wife’s cousin.”

  Serena laughed humorlessly. “Thank you, but I don’t need a sponsor. I do very well on my own. So, what do you want from me? If I tell you that I’m not psychic, you won’t believe me. If I tell you that I’m no threat to you, you won’t believe me. Thanks to my aunt and cousin, you’re going to kill me no matter what, so why all the pretense?”

  Ian came to his feet, setting his drink on the coffee table. “Is this true? Are you trying to kill my woman?”

  Elise gasped. “Your woman?”

  Carello laughed, a cold, brittle sound that made Serena’s skin crawl. “You go through women so fast nobody can keep up. You’ll be done with her soon.” He came to his feet and reached out to grab Serena’s arm, but Ian whipped a hand out and yanked her against him before the other man could touch her.

  “Stay away from her.”

  The cold, deadly tone, laced with icy intent, shocked Serena to the core.

  Turning toward him, she looked down at the hand gripping her arm and could almost hear Ian ordering her to get behind him.

  Since she knew she couldn’t read his mind, she attributed it to instinct—something she’d learned never to ignore.

  She’d learned long ago to trust these things, and knew that Carello mentally weighed his odds of getting away with killing both of them right now. Stepping closer to Ian, she smiled coldly in Carello’s direction.

  “Yes, if you kill us both here, you’ll get caught. Wyn has cameras all over the place, cameras he turned on before you arrived. You’d never be able to get the disks from them because they’re being fed to someone he trusts even now.”

  Ian pulled her behind him. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you.” Shocking Serena, he pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed it at Carello. “Get out of my house before I kill you and your wife and make it look like self-defense.”

  Serena knew Ian could be hard and cold, but she’d never imagined he could sound so deadly.

  Wrapped in his protectiveness, though, she couldn’t read Carello.

  Stepping forward, she gave him a meaningful look and tried to pull her arm from his grip, but he merely glared at her and pulled her behind him again.

  “Now, Carello. Get out, before I kill you.”

  Serena held her breath, knowing that he meant it. Unable to stop herself, she started toward her cousin in an instinctive move to protect her. Raising her gaze to Elise’s, she came to an abrupt stop, shaken by the look of hate in her cousin’s eyes.

  Carello came to his feet, his stance threatening. “You’re dead. You’re both dead.”

  Without even waiting for his wife, he turned and started for the door, leaving Elise to run to catch up with him. Pausing at the doorway, Elise turned, her eyes full of venom.

  “I’ve always hated you.”

  Serena yanked her arm from Ian’s and stepped forward.

  “I know—and I know why. I’ve always seen you for exactly what you are, and you’ve always hated that. You hate that I can see the ugliness underneath that beauty you use like a weapon. Good-bye, Elise. You and your new husband deserve each other.”

  The second the door closed, Ian grabbed her and yanked her against him, burying his face in her hair. “The next time you try to pull away from me like that, I swear to God, I’m turning you over my knee!”

  When Alastair came rushing into the room a few minutes later, Ian still held her. “Our visitors are gone and the gate’s locked again.” He pressed himself against her back, his hands hot on her waist. “You okay, darling? Jesus, you scared the hell out of me.”

  Ian released her and strode away, setting his gun on the bar. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Carello’s really worried. He’ll come after her again soon.”

  “He won’t get to her.”

  The feel of his coc
k pressing into her back sent a wave of longing through her, layering over her desire for Ian to become something even stronger.

  Leaning back against Alastair, she watched Ian’s approach, trying not to get swept away by the hunger in his eyes.

  “I don’t know why the hell you say you want to use my abilities to find out what Carello’s thinking and then you grab me and”—frustrated, she waved a hand in the air, her breath catching at the friction of the soft material over her nipples—“do whatever it is you did.”

  Ian’s eyes hardened, his hands going around her neck. “Did you expect me to let him kill you?”

  Bristling at his tone, Serena lifted her chin. “I thought you needed to know what he was thinking. Stop treating me like a child and let me do what I’m here to do. It’s the only way I can go home.”

  Ian’s eyes narrowed and sharpened. Using his thumbs, he kept her chin up, bending close. “You did it, didn’t you? You read his thoughts. You know something. What is it?”

  Serena bit back a moan at the feel of his strong fingers massaging the back of her neck

  Swallowing heavily, she fisted her hands on his chest. “He’s supposed to buy drugs tonight from a new supplier, who wants to meet the man in charge before he makes a deal. Carello knows it’s a trap. Someone on the police force warned him. He’s not going to be there. Instead, he’s going to be at some kind of fundraiser so he can be seen and alibied when his men kill the undercover policemen.”

  Cursing, Alastair whipped out his cell phone and turned away. “I’ll call Jonathan.”

  Looking away from the intriguing sight of Alastair’s tight butt as he walked away from her, she turned to Ian. “Is that the man who’s your connection to the authorities?”

  Inclining his head, Ian moved to the chair opposite her. “Yes. You’ll probably end up meeting him at some point, and when you do, I don’t want him to know anything about your abilities.”

  Retrieving her drink, she took a sip to relieve her dry throat, dropping back into the chair. Aware of Ian’s scrutiny, she ran a finger around the rim of her glass, wondering how much she should reveal. She looked up again, unsurprised to find him staring at the front of her vest again.

  “Do you really have to keep staring at my breasts?”

  Ian lifted his gaze to hers, his expression thoughtful. “It seemed like a good way to pass the time while I waited for you to decide whether or not you’re going to tell me the rest.”

  Serena stilled, wondering how he could have known she hadn’t told him everything. “The rest?”

  “You have something you want to tell me but either can’t decide whether to tell me or not, or how much of it you’re willing to tell me.”

  Shocked, Serena sat up, setting her drink on the table. “How the hell do you know that? Can you read my mind?”

  “No. That would be a hell of a lot more convenient.” Smiling, he let his gaze rake over her, making her nipples bead even tighter. Her stomach clenched when he got to his feet and moved closer to kneel at hers.

  “I can see it in your eyes.” Using his fingertips to brush her hair back, he clenched his jaw. “Just as I can see your arousal in them. It’s driving me crazy.”

  Serena wanted to move away, but he slid his hand inside her vest again, pushing the material aside.

  She couldn’t hold back a moan at the feel of his hot fingers caressing her breast, and had to swallow before she could speak. “I’m very good at hiding my feelings.”

  Stroking a thumb over her nipple, he leaned forward until their faces nearly touched.

  “Not from me, you aren’t. Now, tell me.”

  Arching into his caress, she answered without thinking.

  “You were scared for me. I felt it when you grabbed my arm. I could almost—ah—hear you tell me to get behind you. You cared more about keeping me safe than you did about finding out what Carello was thinking.”

  Ian stilled, and slowly removed his hand, his eyes hooded and shuttered as he got to his feet, towering over her. “Of course I was nervous that he would shoot you, especially when you taunted him the way you did.”

  Holding the front of her vest closed, Serena jumped to her feet, clumsily sidestepping him.

  “You wanted me to make him nervous.”

  Ian’s expression became closed and distant. “Are you telling me that you knew what I was thinking when I held on to you?”

  Serena blew out a breath in frustration.

  “Not exactly. I don’t know how the hell to explain it. I thought it was just instinct, but now I don’t know. It’s like you screamed at me.” She shrugged, uneasy under his intense scrutiny, and a little shaken at the distance in his eyes.

  “I can’t read your mind and I’m not trying to. I just know things. I don’t know how. Something’s changing and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  She blinked back tears, but couldn’t keep her voice from shaking. “I don’t even understand my own abilities anymore.”

  With a lightning move, Ian grabbed her and yanked her against him, his eyes hard.

  “I want you, Serena, but stay the hell out of my head.”

  Insulted, Serena pushed at his chest. “I’m—”

  She forgot the rest of what she’d been about to say when he covered her mouth with his and lifted her high in his arms. Holding her against his hard chest, he carried her from the room, his stride full of purpose and impatience, his kiss hungry and possessive.

  Entering his room, he lifted his head with a groan, kicking the door closed behind him.

  “I’ve never met a woman I wanted more than I want you. You’re not only beautiful, but there’s a vulnerability about you that ties me up in knots.”

  He moved across the bedroom, and laid her on the bed, following her down. “I don’t like having you in my head, though. Just by being, you take more than I’m willing to give.”

  Parting her vest, he touched his lips to her right nipple, stiffening when she moaned, his face tightening with need and self-anger.

  “But no matter how hard I try, I can’t fucking resist you.”

  Chapter Eight

  His words shouldn’t have hurt her, especially since she felt the same way, but she couldn’t deny that they did.

  She knew as well as he apparently did that a relationship between them would never last, but she couldn’t resist him either.

  Knowing that their time together was limited made every moment even more special.

  With her head spinning and her body screaming for relief, Serena couldn’t hold back her cries and moans as Ian stripped her clothes from her and crushed her beneath him. Every touch seemed more potent. Every breath, every word, every slide of his skin over hers strummed over her emotions, her desires, until nothing existed but them.

  Nothing was more important than being in the arms of her lover, where she could be herself.

  And more.

  Running her hands over him, she marveled at the solid muscle she encountered, his skin hot beneath her hands.

  At this moment, she belonged.

  The sensation of being naked while he was still fully dressed gave her an erotic thrill, adding a vulnerability that spiked her excitement.

  She didn’t fear it as she probably should have. Instead, she reveled in the chance to experience her femininity to the fullest.

  Every brush of his clothing against her bare skin intensified her vulnerability and excitement, a woman overpowered by the passion of her man.

  A woman who demanded more.

  His touch held an anger that Alastair’s hadn’t, a desperation that increased the sexual tension between them even more, so much that it left her shaking. It also held a tenderness she hadn’t expected, the tension in his body telling her how desperately he fought for control.

  She found herself trying to soothe him—to push her own sharp emotions aside to ease his.

  The tension emanating from him thrilled her on many levels, his need for her apparent in every caress, every gro
an.

  He wanted her badly, and yet he remained conscious of his strength.

  The combination proved irresistible.

  His firm strokes seemed designed to elicit the most pleasure. His mouth, hands, and fingers moved with erotic purpose over every inch of her body, making her skin tingle with a hunger that had her writhing beneath him.

  She burned everywhere, her body sizzling with each caress, each firm touch. Her pussy ached with the need to be filled, her clit throbbing incessantly. Gripping his shoulders, she dug her fingers into hard muscle, needing something solid to steady her.

  The firm strokes of his hands over her seemed designed to drive her mad, delivering caresses and light pinches over her body just long enough to sensitize her before moving to tease her somewhere else.

  Cupping her breast, he closed his fingers over her nipple, squeezing gently until she cried out, her cry of shocked delight becoming a whimper when he bent to take it into his hot mouth.

  Using his tongue and teeth, he teased her tender flesh, the friction on her over-sensitized nipples driving her wild. The pleasure spread, like little strands of electricity that travelled throughout her body and all seemed to settle on her clit.

  Hoarse cries poured from her, one after the other, becoming weaker and more desperate as his fingertips trailed seductively up her arm, sending more delicious currents racing through her.

  He laced his fingers with hers, pressing the backs of her hands to the pillow on either side of her head, a dominant move that both excited and alarmed her. “I love that look of helpless abandon on your face. You don’t look so calm and cool now, babe.”

  Squeezing his hands, she smiled and cried out again with an abandon she couldn’t hide when he shifted his attention to her other nipple. “Neither do you.”

  His present mood added an edginess to their lovemaking, a darkness to her need, his wicked play making her even hotter.

  He lifted his head, his eyes narrowed and filled with a hunger that made her clit swell and throb, but he held her thighs wide with his own, making it impossible for her to get the friction she needed.