He flew higher. Flicking out his tongue, he took a brief taste of the air, absorbing in a few flakes of snow and savoring the spikes of coolness.
When he looked down, he was nearly blinded by the blanket of white covering everything as far as he could see. Stretching out his senses, he felt for other Talents, using the kind of radar Talents had. They could detect the presence of others by a buzz in the mind. Unless they put up their shields completely.
Either they weren’t listening or there weren’t any nearby, apart from Dalton, who ignored Nathan’s sensing, knowing it wasn’t for him. Dalton had taken the whiskey with him into the great room and was making inroads. Soon he’d sleep, and Nathan knew from long experience that his old friend was hard to wake once he’d had enough drink to numb his clever mind.
Nathan couldn’t see Kristen’s car. Either she didn’t have one or the snow had engulfed it. He guessed he’d better do something about that, try to rescue it when the snow cleared. If it existed. It could be days—weeks, even—before the roads reappeared.
The cool air blasted past his face, but as a cold-blooded creature, it didn’t bother him one bit.
When he banked and turned, ready to return to the house, he noticed a hump in the snow. He swooped down to investigate. He didn’t bother to fuzz his form, using the camouflage that enabled him to fly unnoticed over populated areas. Fuzzing was probably a form of hypnotism, but Nathan had been born with the ability. All it did was persuade people that they saw what reason told them they saw. Dragons appeared to them as shadows, airplanes, even dragon-shaped balloons. Not the real thing because dragons didn’t exist, did they?
Nobody would recognize him. Who was out in this weather? Apart from desperate dancers. At the thought of Kristen, his body stirred. Shit, even when he was a dragon she got to him.
He’d nearly caved when he’d felt her warm body nestled against his as he’d carried her. So easy to ignore the guest rooms and head straight for his own, where he’d have joined her on the bed and made damn sure she didn’t feel cold again tonight.
Something about her appealed to him on a level far more than he was comfortable with. He’d caught his breath at the curtain of shining black hair, the ponytail cascading down her back when he’d pulled that stupid woolen hat off her head. And her eyes were such a deep blue, soft and welcoming.
She had the body of a dancer. He’d spotted that as soon as she’d taken off her coat, before he’d seen her feet and recognized what she was. He’d discerned the graceful form under her thick sweater and her jeans, the easy way she moved. Mouthwatering.
Anger seared him. With himself, for wanting her.
He snorted in disgust. Surely he could control his reactions better at his age.
A glimmer of paint attracted his attention, and he dove low enough to sweep a tranche of fresh snow away with his wing.
That was the top of a car, no doubt about it. He took a few more passes and cleared enough of it to see. Cold and dead and empty. It could be Kristen’s.
When he stretched his senses, he detected her lingering essence in the vehicle. Anger swept through him, heating his cold blood when he took note of the make and age of the vehicle. She could have died. Despite the storm being worse than anybody had expected, there was no excuse for setting out in a piece of crap like this.
What was she thinking?
He arrowed into the sky, shooting up until the wind streaked past him and brought him to his senses. All he had to do was get through tonight. Then he’d send her on her way and never see her again.
Coming to a soft, expert landing on his balcony, he shape-shifted back to mortal. The cold struck him immediately, right to his bones. Shivering, he pushed the door to his bedroom. And pushed it again. The cold must have iced it shut.
Partially shifting, he warmed the edge with his breath, then tried again. Nope, not moving.
Reaching out with his mind, he tried to contact Dalton. The bastard was asleep, profoundly so. He could wake Dalton, but he’d try something else first.
The balcony was a long one, linking all the bedrooms on this side of the house. He’d given Kristen the one at the end, farthest from his. The bedroom light wasn’t on. Only the bathroom.
He walked along the balcony, testing the other bedroom doors, but they were all shut. When he got to hers, he saw a crack of light. It was unlocked. He could get through her room without any trouble if she was bathing, get to his without disturbing anybody. Cora was out hunting, and he didn’t want to bother her. She hadn’t fed for a while. He reached out with his mind for any mortal presence in the bedroom. None.
Only the smallest of risks, then. Taking a breath, he eased the window open.
* * * *
Kristen took a bath as hot as she dared until she turned lobster-red. Then she rinsed her hair. She might as well, since it had gotten wet when she climbed in the tub. It gave her the excuse to submerge herself in the water and ensure every bit of her, from her toes to her nose, was nicely warmed up. She never wanted to feel that cold ever again.
Besides, the scalding heat might help her forget that other heat, the way she felt every time Nathan came near her.
If this was a guest-room bathroom, she wondered what the one in the master suite was like, because this corner bath was huge. Not that it had taken much effort to fill it once she’d worked out how the buttons in the panel on the wall operated. A faucet hung over the tub and swung aside when she’d had enough.
The bathroom was well provided with toiletries. A choice of soaps and gels awaited her, mostly fruit-scented. Expensive brands. She chose the strawberry soap and washed her hair with apple shampoo. She even located lotion to smooth over her skin afterward. Her every need was catered for.
She could have stayed in in the bath all night, but she wanted to try the bed and see if it was as comfortable as it looked. Bed called to her, along with the promise of warmth.
In a much better frame of mind than when she got in, she climbed out and toweled herself down, using the hairdryer to roughly blow her hair dry without attempting a style.
She’d left the fluffy robe in the bedroom. Since the outer door was closed and she’d turned the key in the lock, strolling into the bedroom naked seemed an okay thing to do.
That is, until a blast of cold air hit her, and she turned around to see her the door to the balcony wide open and a man standing just inside them.
It took her a moment to recognize him because she wasn’t looking at his face. Shame on her, her gaze first landed on his cock. It was erect, the head shiny. Why was he…?
Her brain wasn’t exactly working at warp speed. Her gaze drifted up, past those devastating grooves on the insides of his hips to a taut stomach decorated by a line of dark hair, to the powerful chest, wide shoulders, and finally his face. Then back to a small mark on his thigh. A tattoo?
Nathan was definitely smiling now, but his eyes held more emotion. Heavy-lidded heat burned in their depths. With a muttered, “Fuck!” he strode forward and took her into his arms.
When her breasts collided with his chest, she gasped and her nipples tightened into instant points. He brought his mouth down on hers and thrust his tongue into her mouth in one move.
Desire swamped her in the instant it took her to open wider to take him in. He tasted of heated spice and something different, something she couldn’t remember ever tasting before, but it was exciting. Her pussy dampened, so she tried to rub her thighs together to ease some of the tingling awareness he’d instigated.
He released her mouth but kept his arms clamped around her. “I know the arguments. We shouldn’t, we hardly know each other, we’ll never meet again, we barely tolerate each other.” He moved, rubbing his chest against her nipples. “All that and more. But I want you beyond reason. Forget reason. Say yes.”
She hated him. He was arrogant, and he had the nerve to imagine she’d come here specifically to meet him.
But the arguments faded when she stared into his eyes and saw her
own desire reflected there. He didn’t like her either, but here they were, lust roaring through them and a big comfortable bed behind them.
When this hiatus came to an end, she’d still be Kristen Lowe, still looking for work. Sleeping on her brother’s sofa. Unless she could persuade Stu to give up his bed for her.
Not sleeping in a luxurious bedroom in a millionaire’s house. So why not do this? Her path would never cross Nathan’s again. Even if he was some kind of impresario, he’d hardly look at her, even if she came to him for a job, which, considering her lie, she wasn’t about to do. So she said it. “Yes.”
“One—”
She put her fingers over his mouth. He sucked and nibbled them with a tenderness belied by the brute strength of his body. “You’re going to say this is it, aren’t you, that what happens here is a one-time thing; it means nothing. Do you think I don’t know that? I said yes to sex. Do you have protection?”
Gazing into her eyes, he nodded and then slowly released her damp fingers.
She slid them across his cheek and thrust her hands into his hair. It was just long enough for her to comb her fingers through. “Then there’s nothing stopping us.”
Before she could say any more, he swept her into his arms like some kind of caveman and walked over to the bed. She loved it. Just like before, he perched her on the edge, but unlike before, he pushed her knees apart roughly and looked his fill. Her pussy rapidly grew wetter under his avid scrutiny.
Her senses returned a little. “What are you doing here? Naked?” He’d come into her bedroom naked? What was she thinking?
He glanced up, and he almost smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. “I went out on the balcony to check the snow, and the door slammed shut behind me. I saw yours open and heard you in the bathroom. I thought I could make it through your room before you got out of the tub.”
Did she believe him? Or was he lurking around, waiting for her to leave the bathroom? No, she couldn’t believe this man was ever short of sex partners or needed to stoop to such tricks. And the state of his dick told her how much he wanted her. It reared up, insistent and strong.
And big.
That wouldn’t stop her for a minute. She couldn’t wait to feel it inside her, as deep as it would go.
He made a sound in his throat that sounded like a growl. “Gorgeous. Luscious, open, pink.”
Reaching down, she spread her labia, blatantly displaying her pussy. “Better?”
“Oh yes. And I love the nude look.”
She was a dancer, often required to wear skimpy costumes. She shaved—or waxed when she had the cash to get it done. Sliding a finger down her inner crease, she paused at her entrance.
With a swiftness that made her gasp, he snared her wrist, his hold firm enough to stop her, not enough to mark. A flicker of wildness entered his gaze and then left.
“I’ll do that,” he said, his voice so low and rough it made her shudder. He leaned forward with a grace she associated with her profession, making her wonder anew what it was actually that he did, but only for a moment before his tongue touched her clit.
The slight connection made her cry out. Then she instinctively clutched his hair. Holding on, she rode the first waves of her arousal—not yet orgasm but so close that the only way she told the difference was the hunger that remained inside her.
He licked, twined his tongue around her clit, and sucked. He must be using his fingers. But no, he was supporting his position, one hand on her thigh, another palm down on the bed next to her. Just a very talented man.
He devoured her as if he needed her juices to survive, thrust his tongue deep inside her cunt. So deep her eyes rolled back in her head. “Fuck, you’re good at this!”
He drew away, studied the result of his tonguing. Then lifted his hand off the bed and traced her pussy, slowly, from opening to clit, around and down the other side. He pushed barely in, just the tip of his forefinger. “So they tell me.”
“Fuck me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
But he heard. Taking a small detour to the bedside table, he opened the top drawer and retrieved a condom. “Everything’s catered for.”
“What if you have children stay over?” Wouldn’t they object to condoms in the drawers?
“I never do.”
That sounded sad. Did he have no relatives with children, no siblings? She shouldn’t ask or get curious about him. He was a man, no more—a man here just to indulge in a little mutual pleasure. Not someone she expected to have any kind of relationship with, now or in the future.
He was the best specimen of mankind she’d come across in a long time, and she wanted him for herself, at least for the next half hour. Longer, maybe.
There it was again, a flash of blue on his thigh. She’d get to see that tattoo up close soon. She’d make sure of it.
He grinned as he planted his hands on either side of her and eased her back onto the soft, deep-pink coverlet on the bed. “I knew this color would suit you.” He touched her hair, still damp. “Like I knew your hair would slip like silk between my fingers.”
Shit, she was right. That smile devastated her. It took every other smile she’d ever seen and added perfection.
“Enough with the compliments.” She wasn’t sure she was comfortable with his praise. She just wanted the solace of another body. “Come on. Remind me I’m still alive.”
“Oh, I’ll do better than that.”
When he slid against her, he briefly bit her nipple, then licked it as if in apology. “Luscious.”
Like many dancers, Kristen had small breasts. Early training turned everything to muscle, including breast tissue. But he seemed to like them, and she did have large nipples. She’d always considered them lacking, but with his appreciation, she changed her mind.
She was turning into some kind of fangirl here. She couldn’t afford to do that, to give him a scintilla of power over her, or she was lost. If he found out she had lied, and he did have something to do with her world, he could destroy her. If she let him.
No, this was something else. A night that didn’t happen, one she’d fantasize about.
When his hot cock met her wet pussy, she shuddered. How could she ever have imagined she was cold? Shit, this was too much. Not enough.
Then he slid inside but paused. “Open your eyes. I want to see what this does to you.” He sounded almost desperate.
Raising her legs, she wrapped them around his waist, feeling his hips jutting into the undersides of her thighs. She hooked him and pulled him in. Except he resisted until she forced her eyes open and stared into his.
She preferred to keep her eyes closed during sex. “Keeping them shut intensifies the feeling.”
“Let me take care of intensifying. Keep them open,” he murmured, his lips next to hers. He kissed her and gave a hard thrust. In one stroke, he lodged deep inside her. Exactly where she wanted him.
“Wow.” He filled her up. Nobody had done that before. His gaze fixed on hers, he withdrew and thrust again slowly. She felt every inch. When he returned, his thrust felt never-ending. The fear that he wouldn’t stop, that he’d drive through her body and invade every part of her, added to the arousal fast ratcheting up inside her.
Every part of her body tingled with awareness, feeding off his possession. He was completely in control, something she rarely enjoyed, but she felt that for this time he owned her. And she loved it.
Everything she’d sworn not to be, not to do, she was doing here and now. But this was a night out of time. This experience would never happen to her again. But here, now, she was somebody else.
“Lie back. Enjoy.” The light in his eyes glowed bright when he turned his head, and the lighter parts of his irises caught the reflection of the bedside light. “Next time you can do the work. Say my name.”
“Nathan.” It rolled off her tongue, and she got a kiss for it.
“Kristen, Kristi, Kriss… Which do you like?”
“You don’t li
ke Nate?”
He thrust hard for that and rammed into her, his pubic bone grinding against hers to the point of pain. “No. Kristen it is, then.”
She preferred that. After her family calling her “Krissie” for most of her life, her full name had been part of growing up. Besides, she loved the way he caressed the word, made a meal of it.
Three shallow jabs shocked her into arching her back, only to have him press her down again. She gasped.
His low chuckle should be banned, it was so sinful. It spoke of things he’d known and done that she couldn’t hope to experience. Except, that sound made her want to give him everything.
He thrust, then ground, then jabbed. She couldn’t tell what he would do next. With every movement, he drove her higher, sent her head spinning and her thoughts whirling. And still she hadn’t come.
He knew it. “Ready to beg yet?”
“No way in hell.” Sliding her hand between them, she pushed against his chest until he stopped her moving by the simple expedient of pressing his body hard against hers.
“Oh no you don’t. I’m in control here. Don’t go thinking you’re not doing your fair share tonight. But I want this.” With every other word, he thrust with the precision of a musician timing his movements, impressing his identity deep within her.
Warmth touched her mind and with it, a tingle, an awareness that drove her crazy, tempting her to reach for it. Before she could, she came. Nothing gentle or feminine about the violent pulses that rocketed through her, sending her to a place she’d never visited before. Clinging to him as if her life depended on it, she had no choice. She gave herself up to his care just as he muttered her name. He pressed his lips against her neck as he came in hard spurts.
* * * *
Naked, Kristen was pure temptation. Her lithe form appealed to Nathan on a basic level, one that was past thinking, akin to instinct. Something in her called to him. Always he’d been restless, wondering what was next, what was over the horizon. For once, at the moment of culmination when he jetted into her body, he felt at peace, as if he’d finally reached his goal.
The Thorndyke Trilogy 2: Dancing at Midnight Page 3
