Edge of Desire

by Rhyannon Byrd

  And the end was coming closer. His hunger was rising…mounting. If he didn’t find the Marker soon, he would have to figure something out. And despite what he’d told Kellan that morning, he still didn’t have any idea of what he would do. Of how he would handle it.

  Her telephone rang, his already heightened sense of hearing allowing him to pick up the shrill sound, and he watched as she set the book aside and reached for the handset that rested in a cradle beside the lamp. She lifted the receiver to her ear, her head turned to the side, the thick fall of her hair making it impossible for him to see her expression. He marked the passage of time in his head, and no more than a minute had gone by before she slammed the phone back in the cradle. Surging to her feet, she quickly checked the lock on the back door, then walked out of the room, through the doorway that he knew led into the kitchen.

  Without any conscious direction from his brain, Riley found himself moving across the damp grass that stretched out from the back of the house to the beginning of the woods, the pebbled path that curved through its center snaking into the trees, leading to the cabins that lay farther within the forest. Taking a deep breath, he climbed the shallow porch steps and lifted his hand to knock. A moment later, Hope peeked through the panes of the bay window to see who was there, her shoulders sagging with a subtle gesture of relief when she saw that it was him.

  “Riley,” she murmured, opening the door, her warm, mouthwatering scent instantly filling his head, making him feel dazed.

  The silence was already stretching out to uncomfortable proportions and he knew he needed to say something, but his throat was too locked up. He just stood there, staring, feeling like a hungry dog caught begging at the back door for a scrap of attention. A bone. A friggin’ scratch behind the ears before he got kicked away.

  Only, Hope didn’t kick him or slam the door in his face. Instead, her head tilted a fraction to the side as she studied him with those big, soulful eyes, her soft gaze lingering on the burning heat in his face. “Do you, um, want to come inside?” she finally asked.

  He nodded, his throat working as he stepped into the warm, inviting room, while she closed the door behind him. As Riley moved farther into the quiet house, the weight of his guilt was staggering, weighing him down, until his legs felt leaden, his shoulders and chest tight with strain. He felt as if he was dragging a trail of slimy, festering destruction in his wake. One that would ruin the clean, beautiful floorboards beneath his feet, rotting the wood until there was nothing but a black, sopping maw opening beneath them, waiting to swallow them whole. And yet he couldn’t make himself leave.

  Standing in the middle of the room, Riley turned to find Hope leaning back against the door, just watching him, waiting to see what he would do, what he wanted. He ran his gaze over her body in a quick, visual feast. With an inner smile, he noted the loose sand-colored pajama pants and long-sleeved baggy T-shirt, knowing it was a wasted effort, the way she tried to hide that beautiful body with the shapeless clothes. As far as he was concerned, the shadowy, fleeting glimpses of her figure that were revealed by the softly draping fabric were as erotic as any skimpy, revealing piece of lingerie. They made you work for the details. Made you long to rip the teasing cover of cotton from her body, piece by piece, until you’d reached the warm, womanly treasures hidden beneath.

  His hands flexed at his sides, as if ready to reach out and grasp hold of her, until he spotted the knife she held in her right hand, the lamplight glinting off its wicked-looking blade. Lifting his gaze, Riley stared into the flickering shadows in her eyes. “Something going on?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” she slowly replied, casting a wry look down at the knife. “I guess I just believe in being prepared.”

  “Did your ex call again? Was it him on the phone?”

  She shook her head, the sharp movement sending her thick, lustrous hair tumbling over her shoulders, making his fingers itch with the need to bury themselves in that warm, burnished silk. “I’m just nervous,” she murmured. “They found a college girl up in Wellsford who’d been murdered over the weekend.”

  “They what?” He went completely still, not even breathing. “When? Where did you hear about it?”

  A shiver ran through her body. “It’s been all over the news tonight. They’re saying that she’d been mutilated, torn to pieces. I guess she was missing some fingers on one hand, and had been clawed up pretty badly. They’d think it was a bear attack, except that there was enough of her left to tell that she’d been raped. It’s crazy, isn’t it? I mean, who would do something like that?”

  Turning away from her, Riley stared through the window into the ever-thickening shades of twilight. He should have been keeping his eye on the local news, but he’d been so wrapped up in his search for the Marker and worrying about Hope that he hadn’t even turned on a radio or a TV all day.

  Shit, they were so screwed. He knew, just from the little that Hope had told him, that the kill belonged to Gregory. The twisted Casus had a thing for fingers, which they’d discovered when he’d gone after some friends of Saige’s during her awakening. And Riley himself had handled the investigations into the murders committed by Gregory’s brother, Malcolm, back in Colorado. He’d seen exactly what a Casus could do to a body. Knew exactly how evil they could be.

  “Where’s Millie?” he asked, hating the cold, bleak sliver of fear in Hope’s eyes as he turned to catch her gaze. It made him want to hold her, wrap his body around her until he could shelter her from anything and anyone who ever tried to cause her harm.

  “She’s in the café with Hal, a friend of hers. He’s going to do some remodeling to the front counter and she’s showing him the design she wants.”

  “You need to talk to her, tell her to be careful. I can’t stress how important this is, Hope.”

  Her brows drew together in a dainty V of surprised confusion. “You don’t actually think there’s some connection between that girl and the people you said would be coming here? The ones who will be looking for whatever the hell it is you and Kellan are searching for out there in the woods, do you?”

  Locking his jaw, he said, “All I’m saying is that whatever killed that girl is still out there. You and Millie can’t take any chances.”

  Her gaze slid away from his, focused sightlessly on some unknown place on the floor. She swallowed as she wrapped her arms around her middle, the knife still clutched in her right hand.

  “Promise me, Hope.” There was a guttural edge to the words that Riley could easily attribute to the Merrick, which was seething beneath his surface at the idea of another Casus kill. It wanted blood…wanted to make that son-of-a-bitch monster pay.

  Hope finally nodded, straightening her shoulders as she reconnected with his gaze. “I’ll talk to her,” she rasped, “but not right now. I don’t want to interrupt her and Hal’s alone time.”

  He quirked a brow, and there was the faintest shadow of a smile playing at her lips as she said, “I think something could get started between those two, if Millie would just give it a chance. I’m hoping she uses the opportunity tonight to make her move. That’s why I’ve been lying low and was getting ready to head upstairs to watch a movie.”

  “I’ll get out of your hair, then,” he told her, making to move toward the door, until she stopped him with his name.

  She hesitated, then made a nervous gesture toward the kitchen. “They’ll still be a while, if…if you’d like to have a cup of coffee before you go.”

  The look on his face must have been so telling, she actually laughed, the soft, husky sound like something delicious and sweet that he wanted to taste on her lips. “Just coffee, Riley. That’s all,” she teased, her topaz-colored eyes shining with mirth. “You don’t have to look as if I just asked you to strip naked and give me a lap dance.”

  He grunted under his breath, the provocative image invoked by her words hitting him low in the gut. “Damn it, Hope. You didn’t use to be so open with your words.”

  The mischie
vous fire in her eyes deepened as she said, “Am I embarrassing you?”

  He gave her a stern look for asking such a ridiculous question, and she laughed again, saying, “Well, I’m a woman now, not a child. You can’t expect me to be that same girl that you used to know. I grew up, and now you have to deal with it.”

  Riley held up his hands in a sign of surrender. “Hey, I’m not complaining. It just takes some getting used to.”

  “Hmm,” she murmured, heading toward the kitchen. Following behind her, Riley took a seat on one of the sturdy wooden stools positioned along the edge of a massive, beautifully crafted butcher’s block, a bowl of clove-studded oranges sitting in its middle. Despite being a working kitchen, the room still had that warm, homey feeling that blended perfectly with the beautiful house.

  “You must close pretty early for dinner,” he commented, noticing that the kitchen had already been cleaned and shut down for the night.

  “The majority of our business is breakfast and lunch, so on the weekdays we only do an early dinner service,” she explained, setting the dangerous-looking knife in the sink. “The hours are perfect for me and Millie, since neither one of us has any desire to be a slave to a full-time restaurant. The café pulls in great money and gives us a creative outlet, which we both love, while still allowing us some downtime. The weekend is actually the only time we stay open a little later.”

  She washed her hands, then began setting up the coffeemaker, putting in a new filter…grinding some aromatic beans. Riley sat on the stool, simply watching her move about the kitchen, wishing he could think of something to say, but casual conversation seemed impossible. Completely beyond his scope at the moment. Still, he had to admit that she eased something inside him, as if she were a cool, cleansing balm for his tainted soul. And yet, at the same time, she ignited him to a fever pitch of desire, his cock already thickening with lust just from watching her make coffee, for God’s sake.

  Since she didn’t seem in any hurry to break the silence, either, he used the time to simply enjoy watching her, soaking up the details that were revealed by the recessed lighting spilling from beneath the cupboards, illuminating the room with a warm, golden glow. He could sense, on an instinctual male level, that she honestly had no concept of how beautiful she was…how sexy. So soft and lush and endlessly feminine, it made him crazed, as if he could bruise her tender surface with nothing more than a look. And, Christ, he didn’t even want to think about the damage he could inflict if he lost control and gave in to the visceral pangs of hunger that clawed through him every time he set eyes on her…or so much as thought about her.

  Riley had hoped that he’d be able to hold it together, at least long enough to enjoy a cup of coffee with her before he hightailed his ass back to safer territory—but he’d been wrong. Already, his control was slipping. Pulling in a deep breath, he choked back a groan as her mouthwatering scent filled his head, his body going hot…muscles clenching from the strain of holding himself in check.

  The coffeemaker began to gurgle and hiss, and she pulled down two mugs from a cupboard, sliding him a nervous look as she moved to the fridge, and he knew that she’d finally recognized the animal in the room with them. The wild, primal beast that had risen up, and was now charging the air with a thick, warm spill of desire. One he couldn’t fight. One he didn’t even want to. Not until he’d finally gotten the taste of her in his mouth. Until he had at least that much to hold him over. That much to cling to until it just didn’t matter anymore.

  “Do you take milk or cream in your coffee?” she asked with a husky catch to her voice, looking over her shoulder as she opened the refrigerator door, and her eyes went wide when she saw that he was no longer sitting down. Was, in fact, heading straight for her. There was some kind of argument going on inside his head, but he tuned it out, no longer able to wait. Need was punching against his insides with vicious, destructive force, his skin too tight to contain it. If he didn’t get her mouth under his, and soon, he was going to self-destruct before he’d even had a chance to make a goddamn difference.

  “Riley?” she breathed out, closing the door as he reached her. One second she was staring up at him with wide, startled eyes, and in the next, her back was pressed against the stainless steel door, the damp, delicious heat of her mouth dominated by his. She gasped, and he stroked past her silken lips with his tongue, thrusting inside with a dark, hungry aggression, nearly dying as her taste spilled through him, sinking into his blood…into his veins.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, the breathless words soft against his lips as he lifted his hands, tangling his fingers in the warm silk of her hair, holding her still as he nipped and teased and tasted.

  “Damn it,” he growled, leaning into her, grinding his denim-covered cock into her lower belly, wanting to be inside her more than he wanted to breathe…to live. “Hope, I’m starving,” he groaned, the graveled words scraping against his throat. “For your taste. Your scent. Your heat. I can’t…I can’t stop.”

  She stared…trembled, and then her eyes slid closed as she finally kissed him back. All it took was the first stroke of her tongue against his—that first curious, questing glide—and the kiss turned explosive…savage, the angle changing again and again as they tried to feed the demanding hunger that rose between them.

  “Are you seeing anyone?” he suddenly rasped, pulling his mouth from hers just long enough to scrape out the husky words.

  She blinked, her eyes going round. “Me?”

  “Yeah, you,” he growled, wondering why she seemed to be so completely unaware of just how incredible she was. How beautiful and tempting and sexy. “Do you have a boyfriend?” he rasped, holding her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin beneath her eyes…the wild bloom of heat in her cheeks. “Some jackass I should know about, who’s going to come after me for putting my filthy hands on you?”

  She shook her head within the hold of his hands, the glazed look in her glowing eyes one of nerves and fear and excitement. If he’d thought she was afraid of him, he’d have forced himself away from her…but the fear wasn’t of him. At least not yet. And hopefully not ever, if he could just get this one taste of her without losing that last tenuous hold he had on the dark, predatory side of his nature. The one that wanted to tilt her head to the side, exposing that tender curve of flesh, and bury his fangs deep in her throat, at the same time he ripped her clothes from her body, spread her legs and drove himself into her with a hard, hammering thrust that would force the memories of every other lover she’d ever known right out of her beautiful little head.

  Fighting against the violent demands of the Merrick to do just that, Riley kissed his way back into her mouth, losing himself in the petal-soft texture of her lips. They were so smooth and tender, luscious and sweet and impossibly warm. And her taste. God, it nearly killed him. He touched his tongue to hers, sliding it inside her mouth…stroking…devouring, intoxicated by the mouthwatering flavor that made him tremble. His hands shook, his cock so hard and aching that he could feel each pulse of his heartbeat through the taut, swollen flesh that wanted so badly to become a part of her.

  Too soon, his gums began to sting, feeling heavy…hot, and he tore himself away from the wildly erotic kiss, too afraid that he wouldn’t be able to hold back the release of the Merrick’s fangs. Hope panted as she leaned against the door, swiping her tongue against the shiny swell of her lower lip, and he growled a deep, rumbling animal kind of sound that made her shiver. Her heavy-lidded gaze focused on the hard, savage intensity of his expression…seeing too much, too deeply, and he took his hands from her hair, curling them over her shoulders as he quickly turned her around, so that she faced away from him. She gave a questioning murmur under her breath, but he was already pressing her forward, trapping her against the chilly metallic surface of the fridge as he pulled her hair to the side.

  “Lift your arms and brace them against the door,” he whispered in her ear, before scraping his teeth along the sens
itive cord that connected her throat to her shoulder, the dangerous caress prompting the Merrick to claw at his insides, furious that he wouldn’t give it what it wanted. What it needed.

  She whispered his name, lifting her arms exactly as he’d told her to do, and Riley ground his jaw, desperate for just a few more stolen moments with her. Moments that would no doubt torment him every waking hour of every day as he played them through his mind again and again, but he didn’t give a damn. He had to have them. Had to at least have this much of her.

  Unable to wait any longer, he slid his left hand inside the loose neckline of her shirt, beneath the stretchy camisole she was wearing, until he cupped the naked heat of her right breast in his hand. Her heartbeat pounded against the inside of his wrist as he memorized the lush, perfect shape of her, stroking the soft, swollen nipple with his thumb. She choked back a startled cry of pleasure, resting her forehead against the cool surface of the metal door, her breath hitching as he quickly slid his right hand down the front of her pants, inside the cotton panties, and burrowed possessively between the damp, velvety folds of her sex. She was already swollen there as well, drenched with hot, slippery juices, warm and soft like silk. Fighting the Merrick into submission, Riley swirled his fingers through that hot, rich cream, learning her, burning the feel of her into his brain. Her folds were exquisitely tender and smooth, her clit a knotted little kernel of flesh that he wanted to taste with his tongue…tease with the gentle scrape of his teeth. God, he wanted to bury his face in her delicate little sex and take every part of it into his mouth. Wanted to penetrate her with his tongue. Lick and suck and swallow until he lost count of how many times she came. Until she was boneless and drifting in a perfect state of bliss, slippery and soft enough that he could work himself inside, sinking deep, until she’d taken every thick, demanding inch of him.

  Unable to wait any longer, Riley thrust two fingers into the tight, tender opening of her body, and pushed deep inside, gasping at the feel of her strong, cushiony muscles clutching onto him, sweet and hot and slick to the touch.