Beyond the Moon. Michele HaufЧитать онлайн книгу.
the neckline of her shirt. A dip of her head, and she looked up through her lashes at him. The hunger in Rook’s eyes brightened. He followed her as she backed across the room, nearing the Buddha statue. Only when the windowsill behind her stopped her progress did he smirk. Triumph. She was now trapped by the hunter, unless she dodged to the side.
Verity planted her feet. She preferred the capture.
Rook did not disappoint.
He swept a palm along her thigh and hooked her leg with a hand, coaxing it up along his hip. Pressing her back against the window frame, he placed a hand over her head as he leaned in and captured her mouth with another of his devastating kisses.
Verity tugged him closer with the leg she had wrapped behind his hip, and he nudged his erection against her Hard and ready. Goddess, but she could unzip him and take him in hand if she could get beyond the fact that this was happening so quickly. They’d shared a drink at a café and then supper, and now…
The devouring. Which she didn’t mind at all if she didn’t think about all the reasons to mind it. Reasons that included the fact that she knew nothing about this man and generally she was a bit more prudent when it came to intimacy.
His kisses tickled along her jaw and up her cheek, where he nuzzled into her hair and his breath hushed across her ear. The touch sent shivers up and down her skin. Verity coiled against him, wanting to pull him into her and become one with his powerful distraction of masculinity.
“You were right,” he said at her ear. “You are as hot as the flame but infinitely more interesting to play with.”
He slid a hand over her chest and she gasped, tilting back her shoulder to fit her breast against his palm. A squeeze of her nipple stirred up a moan, and in response he bent and mouthed her roughly through the fabric.
“Rook,” she gasped. “This is…”
“Fast?” he guessed, nudging his nose along the neckline of her shirt. A finger dragged the stretchy fabric aside. A dash of his tongue traced the rise of her breast. So sensitive there. “You want me to stop?”
“Uh…” Did she?
Hell no, and blessed be, yes.
She grasped behind her, and her fingers landed on the carved woodwork coasting a windowsill. Leaning away from him only thrust up her breasts and offered him more of what he wanted.
Yes, this is too fast, her conscience finally blurted at her. She and the hunter should take it slowly. Couldn’t give him everything he wanted so quickly. Bad things happened when she gave in—like stalking.
Verity shoved at his chest.
Rook stepped back, putting up his palms. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said quickly and offered him a sheepish smile. Swishing a curl of hair over her shoulder, she took a much-needed breath of air. “I didn’t want to stop you, yet I needed you to. It is a bit fast. Not that anything is wrong with fast. I just think—”
“I got it.” He dashed a hand across his lips and flicked a wink at her. “You’re right. I tend to take things that I want when a little prolonged desire is best employed. We should savor this.”
She nodded eagerly. “Savoring is good.”
At the same time she wished she wasn’t so prudent to hold him off, and instead, could grab him by the shirt and pull him back for more.
“Any way I can convince you to go along with me to headquarters tomorrow to look at mug shots?”
“Still don’t want to take sides.”
“The victim chooses her own side. Very well. I won’t push you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable.”
Being labeled a victim did not sit well with her. She had merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yet the idea of missing out on his coercive sensual skills made Verity drop her shoulders. Should she reconsider helping him? What if she refused to help unless he kissed her?
“Come. It’s time we called it a night.”
He tugged her hand into his and led her through the living room and into the kitchen, where he promptly helped her on with her sweater. Gathering her long hair into his hands, he pulled it from the sweater and let it fall across her shoulders. He nuzzled his face into her hair and wrapped a hand around and across her stomach from behind.
“You have gotten inside me, Verity.”
“And yet you claim an inability to read me.”
“Frustrating, but the mystery of you is as sweet as a vanilla macaron.”
He’d guessed it right. She had always considered herself a vanilla macaron.
“Mmm…your hair. I want to lose myself in this.” He bunched up her tresses against his face. “You’d better leave now before I decide to keep you here against your will.”
Sounded rather adventurous, actually.
But Verity declined her lusty imagination. With a nod, she turned to give him a quick kiss. “Thanks for a lovely evening.”
He stroked her neck over the vampire bite. “This should be gone by tomorrow, yes?”
“We witches take a little longer than most paranormals to heal. Give it a few more days.”
“Sure. That’ll give me an excuse to see you again. To make sure you’re looking as good as new. Bonsoir.”
Closing the door behind her, she exhaled and shook her head. Damned vampire bite. Did it bother him? Surely, as a hunter, he wouldn’t like to look at anything left behind by a vampire. She’d have to practice her cover-up skills with makeup before she next saw him.
Date number two couldn’t arrive fast enough.
* * *
Rook caught his hands on the back of the kitchen chair and listened until he could no longer hear Verity’s heels tapping away down the outer hall. They’d been so close to stripping away clothing. He certainly wouldn’t have stopped it. When the hell had he been such an animal around a woman?
Besides always? He did have a tendency to take and then push them aside, never to see them again. Easier that way. When a man lived this long he couldn’t dream to have real, lasting relationships. Such a connection would only result in heartbreak. He’d been there and done that enough times to have learned his lesson.
Verity had bewitched him; that was it. Because he couldn’t imagine not touching or kissing her. He wanted to put his hands on her. Constantly.
Are you forgetting why you need her?
“No,” he muttered to Oz.
She can help you find your soul. End of story.
“Why can’t it be the beginning? I like her, Oz.”
She will muddle everything if you do not treat this as a business arrangement.
Could be true. Oz was the wiser of the two of them. If Rook became further involved with Verity, his brain would certainly not be en pointe and he could not expect to have the focus required to hunt Slater and find the bald vamp who might have his soul.
It was all tied together in some way. Zmaj, Slater and the vampire who had stolen his soul from Verity.
Ah, but he hadn’t felt this way about a woman in a long time. A little muddling was all right, wasn’t it?
Rook, you are not thinking straight.
“No, I’m not,” he whispered. And the smile that followed spread up to his eyes and into his heart.
Verity slipped her feet into thigh-high black suede