It took forever for the pleasure to fade enough to speak. “I love you, Zack.”
He rolled over to his back, pulling her with him. “I love you too. Feels like I’ve loved you forever.”
“Me too.” She dropped her cheek to his chest and closed her eyes, listening to his heart beat strong and fast. “Do you… do you really want me to stay here? I mean, in your apartment?”
“Mmm.” He wove his fingers through her hair. “I understand if you need more time, or your own space. But, sooner or later, I would like it if you’d move in.”
She felt a little guilty about the moment of giddy relief that rose up inside her. The stubborn pride that had kept her alive for so long had kept her from accepting Leofric’s offers of assistance, but the barren, exhausting existence she’d made for herself had started to take its toll. The only happy times she’d had in recent years had been the ones in Zack’s apartment, showing him how to prepare the absurd quantities of food he’d bought with the intention of making sure she didn’t go hungry.
In the end it wasn’t even a question. She turned her face just enough to kiss his chest. “I’m subletting that apartment from Mrs. Carson, and I can give it up whenever I want. If you helped me move my things over here, I’d never go back.”
Zack grinned even as he tugged her up for a kiss. “I’ll take care of you, baby. I’ll make you happy.”
She wrinkled her nose before nuzzling it against his cheek. “If you’ll teach me how to use a computer everyone in my office will love you forever.”
He laughed. “I thought loving me forever was your job.”
“Mmmm. And it’ll be easy.” She kissed his chin before settling back against his chest and closing her eyes again. A sleepy peace crept over her as she relaxed in his embrace. “I’m sorry I lied to you, Zack. I should have trusted you to be strong enough.”
“Me too, Iris.” He flashed her a serious look. “I shouldn’t have stayed away just because I thought you were human. I should have at least tried to make it work.”
She couldn’t even blame him for being wary. If she had been human he never could have let go the way he wanted to, the way he needed to. A human wouldn’t be curled on his chest now in a post-orgasmic haze, not after the rough, primal sex that had called to everything inside her. A human would be broken, damaged.
Her demon nature had been the bane of her existence for decades. Now it was the blessing that had given her the strength to be everything Zack needed.
She lifted her head and stared down at him. “Do you know why I was at Last Call tonight?”
He closed his eyes. “Because Leo’s little girlfriend dragged you there, kicking and screaming?”
“To save me from my dark path.” She traced his lower lip with one finger and almost laughed at the thought that a few short hours ago, salvation had seemed absurd. “I don’t know what she saw. She wouldn’t tell me. She just kept saying someone I would find at that bar would keep me safe. I suppose I owe her an apology for doubting her.”
“Dark path, huh?” Zack nipped at her finger and growled playfully. “We could invite them over for dinner. Leo and I have a lot in common, after all.”
Iris blinked, unable to hide her surprise. “You do?”
“Mmm, we’re both hopeless and very secret romantics,” he told her solemnly. “Have you seen his face when he looks at that girlfriend of his? It’s the same way I look at you.”
She had to close her eyes this time to keep him from seeing the tears that threatened. “I won’t tell anyone that my badass alpha wolf boyfriend is a secret romantic.”
His lips brushed her closed lids gently. “You won’t have to, baby.”
Because he’d love her so completely that no one would ever doubt it. It was more than she’d dared dream of, but as she settled down into his embrace there was no room for doubt. And for the first time in too many years, Iris didn’t drift to sleep with the whispers of regret plaguing her. With even the darkness inside her sated, there was nothing left but hope.
Wondering what other drinks are on the menu? Check out this excerpt from
Last Call #5: Frostbite
Last Call wasn’t her usual scene.
Kelsey snagged a menu from the end of the bar and thumbed the edge as she scanned the offerings. She was used to clubs, all right—the carefully orchestrated dance of the horny, the line between need and desperation growing thinner with each passing drink. But she wasn’t used to places humans couldn’t even enter, places where five grand got you a drink and a room key.
Both very, very special.
She trailed one manicured nail past the initial categories—werewolves, vampires, fae. The usual, she imagined, for a place like Last Call. On the back, at the bottom of the page, printed in smaller letters than the rest, was one last heading.
Other.
She smiled and drained her whiskey. Amusing, if not flattering, that she was an anomaly so rare there wasn’t even a category to include her, just a catchall section at the bottom of a menu, right beside the acknowledgment that parties of six or more would be assessed an automatic gratuity of eighteen percent.
Frostbite: Looking for a partner immune to supernatural seduction.
Kelsey lingered over the words, licking her lips. It shouldn’t be so damn hard to get laid without having to talk, but even an anonymous bar hookup required a modicum of conversation. If she spoke at all, her potential partner was equally likely to follow her home, humping her leg like a dog, or throw himself from a building to get her attention.
Both had happened before.
She leaned forward before she could stop herself, sliding the menu toward the bartender with one upraised eyebrow.
He followed her finger toward the line she’d pointed to, then glanced up at her, assessment in his dark eyes. “Siren?”
Kelsey tapped her temple and winked.
He smiled widely. “You know how it works?”
She handed him her credit card and held her breath as she glanced around the club. Half the patrons were staring at the bartender—at her—and she suspected that even if no one was looking for sex, curiosity demanded they watch what happened next.
The bartender tucked her credit card under the counter and handed her a slim key card before reaching up to tap the side of his earpiece. “Last Call for the lady. Frostbite.”
The music resumed with a thumping beat, and Kelsey turned to watch the crowd as the bartender prepared her drink. Some were checking menus, undoubtedly unfamiliar with the drink’s coded meaning, but several men had already drawn free of the crowd, perhaps wondering exactly what her brand of seductive magic was.
And whether they could handle it.
The bartender set down her drink with a murmur of encouragement. She picked it up only long enough to take a sip—she hated cream mixed with her liquor on the best of days, but she had to signal to the gathered revelers that she was ready to go.
In every way.
A suited figure appeared at the bottom of the steps, a stern, unsmiling man who watched her without expression. He stood there, tall and severe, looking for all the world like a stockbroker who’d accidentally wandered into the bar on his way home from a meeting.
Kelsey wondered what he really was, under the twill and the frown.
Only one way to find out. She slid off her stool and walked slowly down the steps before stopping on the last one to study him. They were nearly eye-to-eye because of the height difference and her heels, and this close, he looked even harsher—
Unyielding.
She drew in a breath. It could work, at least for a while...if she could get him upstairs. So she leaned in, licked the corner of his mouth, and shifted her mouth to his ear to administer her final test. A mere whisper. “Take me here.”
“No.” The man pulled back and studied her in inscrutable silence as the crowd behind him watched avidly. Then he held up a hand. “Proof enough?”
The denial alone weakened her knees, and her cheek
s heated as she offered him the card key for the room. “Yes.”
He accepted the key and her blush with the same calm acceptance, as if neither her capitulation nor her arousal particularly surprised him. After pocketing the key, he dropped a hand to the small of her back and coaxed her from the steps. “Let’s go upstairs.”
She let him guide her toward the elevator, and he’d already slid the card to call it by the time she found her voice—and remembered she could use it. “I’m Kelsey.”
“Kelsey.” He had a low, smooth voice with the promise of rough edges. It matched the neatly pressed suit wrapped around his hard body. “I’m Cain.”
Of course he was. A name as hard as the man himself. “It’s nice to meet you, Cain.”
The elevator door slid open, revealing their reflection in the polished back wall of the car. He stepped forward, urging her along with that uncompromising hand at the small of her back. “Do you come to Last Call often?”
“Occasionally. My first time upstairs, though.” The elevator doors whispered shut behind them. “You?”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and it was the most detached smile she’d ever seen. “I’ve been upstairs before.”
“Mmm.” Damn, but she was bad at small talk, probably because she never got the chance.
She leaned against the mirrored wall as the car began its ascent. Cain certainly seemed like the answer, a man unmoved by anything, much less her voice. And even though that was the point, it made her perversely determined to rattle him before the night ended, to get under his skin in a way that didn’t include magic.
He was hot. She was aching.
Five grand—and worth every penny.
The Last Call Series
http://www.moirarogers.com/last-call
KAMIKAZE
Werewolf in heat, looking for a temporary mate.
HURRICANE
Contents under magical pressure. Experience required.
TEQUILA SUNRISE
Werewolf looking for a dominant.
VIRGIN DAIQUIRI
Supernatural looking for a first lover.
TEQUILA SUNSET
Werewolf looking for a submissive.
FROSTBITE
Looking for a partner immune to supernatural seduction.
FIRECRACKER
Too hot to handle--looking for a fireproof lover.
About the Author
How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former forensic science and nursing student obsessed with paranormal romance and add a computer programmer with a passion for gritty urban fantasy. Toss in a dash of whimsy and a lot of caffeine, and enjoy with a side of chocolate by the light of the full moon.
By day, Bree and Donna are mild-mannered ladies who reside in the Deep South. At night, when their husbands and children are asleep, they combine forces to unleash the product of their fevered imaginations upon the page. To learn more about this romance writing, crime fighting duo, visit their webpage at http://www.moirarogers.com. (Disclaimer: crime fighting abilities may appear only in the aforementioned fevered imaginations.)
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Tequila Sunset
Sneak Peek
The Last Call Series
About the Author
Tequila Sunset (Last Call #4.5) Page 4
