they broke free of the congestion and picked up the pace until she was running beside him the last two blocks to her building.
“Not now. Get your key out of your bag. Have it ready.”
“It’s in my pocket,” she grumbled, but she reached for it anyway and drew it out as they turned for the entrance.
“Inside. Quick.”
He shielded her back as she worked the lock on the main door, his eyes scanning for anything odd in the street around them. Everything looked quiet, but then things usually did just before trouble broke out. He heard the snick of the lock and hustled her inside even before the door was fully open. Hearing the thick glass close behind him made him feel only marginally better.
“Okay, upstairs. Which floor?”
“Fifth.”
Luc bundled her into the elevator and took a last glance around the lobby and out the door onto the street. There wasn’t a soul in sight. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to his heartmate just in time to see her jab the button for her floor with such force he could only assume she was imagining it to be his eye. Or another, equally sensitive portion of his anatomy.
“Okay, what the hell just happened?” she demanded, her voice hot and hard with a combination of confusion, fear, and adrenaline. “Who the hell just tried to bring a lead pipe down on your head in the middle of a crowded street? And why did you react to it by treating me like the damned president right after somebody yells that they have a gun? You’re not the goddamned Secret Service.”
“Actually, I am,” he murmured. “I’m the Fae equivalent, anyway. What did you think the Queen’s Guard were for?”
She looked ready to spit nails, all warm and flustered with adrenaline pinking her cheeks and speeding her breath. Actually, she looked like a woman who had been thoroughly aroused, and the sight went straight to Luc’s groin. He needed to taste her.
He reached out, his eyes narrowing in surprise when she slapped his hands away with a sharp snap.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “You think you’re going to get all touchy-feely after someone just tried to kill you? What is wrong with you?”
God, she really was gorgeous when she was angry. Wasn’t that a human cliché? Luc had never thought he would say this, but in this case the humans knew what they were talking about. Her eyes snapped with temper and her skin flushed with heat. He needed to show her how arousal could be converted from anger to sex in the space of a heartbeat. Maybe less.
“I’m not dead,” he purred, stepping forward to crowd her against the elevator wall, “and neither are you. We’re not even hurt, but that doesn’t mean our hearts aren’t pounding and our bodies aren’t humming. That’s the adrenaline. It makes a body feel alive.”
He lifted a hand, stroked fine dark strands of hair away from her cheek, trailed the backs of his fingers across her smooth, warm skin. He felt her tremble and wanted to roar in triumph.
“Don’t you feel alive, Corinne? Don’t you feel…” He leaned in, breath fanning the soft curve just behind her ear. “…excited?”
He’d never be sure if he’d fallen on her like a starving man, or if she’d yanked him down like a lightpost flyer. When it came right down to it, he’d never feel moved to care. The first touch of her lips felt like home and tasted like brandied cream.
Luc growled his pleasure against her mouth and wrapped his arms around her, dragging her body hard against his. She felt small and delicate compared with him, so tiny he could almost wrap his arms around her twice, but she didn’t kiss like a retiring flower; she devoured him. Her mouth bloomed under his, her body stretching and heating, her hands clinging to his shoulders as if she couldn’t imagine a reason to let him go. Lady help him, he didn’t want her to.
Her lips parted eagerly for his tongue and he plunged deep, seeking the unpolluted taste of her, the
“Not now. Get your key out of your bag. Have it ready.”
“It’s in my pocket,” she grumbled, but she reached for it anyway and drew it out as they turned for the entrance.
“Inside. Quick.”
He shielded her back as she worked the lock on the main door, his eyes scanning for anything odd in the street around them. Everything looked quiet, but then things usually did just before trouble broke out. He heard the snick of the lock and hustled her inside even before the door was fully open. Hearing the thick glass close behind him made him feel only marginally better.
“Okay, upstairs. Which floor?”
“Fifth.”
Luc bundled her into the elevator and took a last glance around the lobby and out the door onto the street. There wasn’t a soul in sight. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to his heartmate just in time to see her jab the button for her floor with such force he could only assume she was imagining it to be his eye. Or another, equally sensitive portion of his anatomy.
“Okay, what the hell just happened?” she demanded, her voice hot and hard with a combination of confusion, fear, and adrenaline. “Who the hell just tried to bring a lead pipe down on your head in the middle of a crowded street? And why did you react to it by treating me like the damned president right after somebody yells that they have a gun? You’re not the goddamned Secret Service.”
“Actually, I am,” he murmured. “I’m the Fae equivalent, anyway. What did you think the Queen’s Guard were for?”
She looked ready to spit nails, all warm and flustered with adrenaline pinking her cheeks and speeding her breath. Actually, she looked like a woman who had been thoroughly aroused, and the sight went straight to Luc’s groin. He needed to taste her.
He reached out, his eyes narrowing in surprise when she slapped his hands away with a sharp snap.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “You think you’re going to get all touchy-feely after someone just tried to kill you? What is wrong with you?”
God, she really was gorgeous when she was angry. Wasn’t that a human cliché? Luc had never thought he would say this, but in this case the humans knew what they were talking about. Her eyes snapped with temper and her skin flushed with heat. He needed to show her how arousal could be converted from anger to sex in the space of a heartbeat. Maybe less.
“I’m not dead,” he purred, stepping forward to crowd her against the elevator wall, “and neither are you. We’re not even hurt, but that doesn’t mean our hearts aren’t pounding and our bodies aren’t humming. That’s the adrenaline. It makes a body feel alive.”
He lifted a hand, stroked fine dark strands of hair away from her cheek, trailed the backs of his fingers across her smooth, warm skin. He felt her tremble and wanted to roar in triumph.
“Don’t you feel alive, Corinne? Don’t you feel…” He leaned in, breath fanning the soft curve just behind her ear. “…excited?”
He’d never be sure if he’d fallen on her like a starving man, or if she’d yanked him down like a lightpost flyer. When it came right down to it, he’d never feel moved to care. The first touch of her lips felt like home and tasted like brandied cream.
Luc growled his pleasure against her mouth and wrapped his arms around her, dragging her body hard against his. She felt small and delicate compared with him, so tiny he could almost wrap his arms around her twice, but she didn’t kiss like a retiring flower; she devoured him. Her mouth bloomed under his, her body stretching and heating, her hands clinging to his shoulders as if she couldn’t imagine a reason to let him go. Lady help him, he didn’t want her to.
Her lips parted eagerly for his tongue and he plunged deep, seeking the unpolluted taste of her, the
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