“Hah, I already do.Every time I’m with you.”
He held his breath as her fingers dipped into the energy of his wings.While combatants tried to cut or damage each other’s wings, Lyra’s touch was gentle.Every feather transmitted her touch right down to his core.She breathed softly, tickling her way across the width of both wings.
She came around to the front again, her fingers working the buttons of her top.It slipped to the floor, followed by her bra, and he had to keep from sucking in a breath at the beauty of her.Beauty he could touch.She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest.“Touch me,” she whispered, as though sensing his thoughts.
His hands trembled as he ran them down her silky hair to her bare shoulders and back.So soft, smooth, so female.
She held tightly to him, her fingers splayed on his lower back, her breasts crushed to his chest.“Take my heat.”
He closed his eyes at her offer and pulled it into his body, her heat and everything about her.He drank in the feel of her skin, the bumps of her spine, and then the beauty of her face as he tilted it back and kissed her.All he could taste was the absinthe, but her mouth was warm and wet and everything her body would be if he buried himself inside her.
Even muffled, he felt enough to know that this would taunt and claw at him for the next hundred years.That he would want more, would want to feel everything in vivid Technicolor.That he would be tempted to do the Essex.He should stop this now.His fingers tangled through her hair as he devoured her.Gods, her tongue, the way it swirled through his mouth and sparred with his, and the purring sound she made…
He picked her up and carried her to the kitchen, setting her on the counter, never breaking the kiss.His body tingled as it came to life.Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him close, and the contact sent a sharp rush through him.
His hands explored her breasts, across her stomach, everywhere he’d wanted to touch earlier when she’d slept.He slid his hands down her back and beneath the waistband of her pants.She groaned and pressed closer, rocking against him, and he had to fight for control as the world narrowed to the two of them.
His wings contracted, pulling in with a pinch.The pain returned, pounding like the beat at the Deuce nightclub.He dropped to his knees, hands on the floor, and had to catch his breath with the suddenness of it.
“What happened?”she asked, breathless herself.
“I couldn’t hold the form any longer.Damn it.”But her heat still swirled in him, even as he got to his feet.
She remained on the counter, gripping the edge, beautifully half naked in the soft light, with the glitter of Miami behind her.Her Dragon tattoo shifted on her skin.Its yellow was even deeper than it had been, its eyes as heavy as Lyra’s.
“I wish it had lasted longer,” she said.
He couldn’t speak, couldn’t say he did, too, or that he was glad it hadn’t because he had enough trouble letting her go even with the pain.
"So was this"—she grinned—“premature transformation?”
“You’re trying to make light of it?”
“It’s better than crying.”
He laughed then.“Too true.”He snatched her shirt from the floor and pushed it at her.When she didn’t cover those beautiful breasts, he settled against the back of the couch, a safe distance away.
She held the shirt in her hands, making no attempt to put it on.“I want more, Archer.More of you.If I give you a little of my?—”
“No, not even a little.It’ll never be enough.I would suck you dry, Dragon Girl.”
She shivered, though he couldn’t tell if she was afraid or aroused.He was far enough away, thankfully.She did, however, pull on her bra and shirt.Everything about her, her heat, her essence, curled through him still and accompanied the thrum of pain at his wanting, at the will it took not to close that distance.
He walked to the wall of windows, pressing his body against the cool glass, arms spread.In the reflection, he saw her watching him.Take the heat away.Take it away, because I can never have it again.
9
“Do you always drive this fast?”Lyra watched the needle rise above one hundred.
“Yes.”
“Ah, back to one-word answers, are we?Sinking into deep silence.That’s not going to change what happened between us, you know.”
“I know.”He flicked her a glance.“There, two words.Happy?”
“Delirious.”
She couldn’t keep her mouth from turning up, though.He hadn’t closed up completely.Watching him pressed against the window, sinking into his misery, had torn her apart.She’d given him space, and eventually they’d succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep on the couch.
