A soft moan left her, her grip tightened on his shirt. He inhaled roughly, drew in the intoxicating scent of her arousal as he found her clit and in absolute fascination, he rolled the tiny nub with his thumb and finger, and watched her face tighten in pleasure. “I need you so damn bad.”
Passion-glazed eyes met his. “I want you, too.”
Ah hell, she was going to kill him. Then all lucid thought fled as she slid her arms around his neck, went on her toes, and fastened those luscious lips back to his. At the sensual heat of her naked breasts pressed against his chest, his fingers stroking her clit, lust rode him, hard—
Yo, Celt—you plan on taking your shift?
At Tyr’s telepathic intrusion, his dick protested brutally at the interruption. Damn the Norse’s timing. Close to telling him to fuck off, Blaéz inhaled deeply and managed to rein in his lust.Yeah. I’ll be there in a few.
He broke off their kiss but couldn’t bear to let her go just yet.
“What is it?” she asked, her eyes a slumberous green searched his.
He stroked her silky, swollen nub, wanted more than anything to taste her between her legs. The urge to ignore his job took hold, but duty was too ingrained.
“I don’t want our first time to be in the entrance to your home,” he lied. Christ, he’d take her anywhere she’d let him. Reluctantly, Blaéz removed his hand from between her thighs. At his fingers gleaming wet from her arousal, he licked them clean. Ah, fuck! Bad mistake. Her musky taste swamped his senses. He struggled not to tackle her to the floor and behave like the horny bastard he was.
“You taste like honey and musk”—color flooded her cheeks—“next time, it will be my mouth here.” He stroked her over her damp panties. Before he lost all common sense, he zipped her pants, pulled up her straps to cover her lush breasts and kissed her on the mouth again. “I have to go. I’m on rift duty.”
A frown marred her smooth brow. “Rift?”
“Just patrolling jargon,” he evaded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He had to get his shit together and get back on the job before Michael yanked him in for another of his little chats.
As he opened the door, he turned back to her. Naturally, his body had other ideas faced with her arousal-flushed face and kiss-swollen lips. Begging was right at the top of the list to let him stay. The miracle of this female who’d entered his life and made it worth facing each day again absolutely floored him. “Tomorrow, then.”
“You said that,” she said with a little smile.
Of course, he did.An emotion he didn’t quite recognize unfurled, as if lit from within, the glow spread.
Is this what happiness felt like?
About to leave, he remembered something he wanted ask her. “Darci, is anyone in your family psychic?”
She frowned. “No, but then it’s just me and my brother. Oh, there is one other with terrifying abilities…” she said, her expression serious. Then her eyes filled with laughter, she reached up and kissed him. “You.”
Yanking her close, he nipped her lower lip. “Behave. I have to go. Tomorrow then—yes, I said it before.” At her widening smile, he shook his head and shut the door quietly behind him.
For a moment, he just stood there on her front porch and stared at the dark skies, rubbing the knot in his chest.
No one had ever done that before; tease him. Not when he was young, and certainly not now. And Týr didn’t count.
Chapter 11
The next morning,Blaéz cut through the rec room heading outside, his mind on his call to Darci. He didn’t understand why she refused to let him take her to work, said something about him being tired after working the night. Tired? Not when it came her. Next time, he’d just do as he wanted.
Týr looked up from a solo game of foosball. “You in?”
Blaéz paused. Putting his scheduled time for a run on hold, he nodded.
“Stakes?”
“You really want to go there?” Blaéz asked as he picked up the small, checkered ball and tossed it back onto the playing fields. “Very well. Two straight goals wins.” Grasping the handle of the black men, he slammed the ball, hard. “No candy for a week.”
“Bastard.” Týr snorted. “You’re on. I win, and the bike’s mine. So, when are you bringing Darci over?” he asked as he whacked the ball back.
And have Michael on his back again? “I’m not. I’m moving in with her.”
