Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)(105)

“Don’t look at him, little one.” He rose with a fluid grace. The muscles of his thighs flexed, and he turned.

She forgot all about the dead men. His ass was a sculpted work of art, all tight and hard, and she bet she could bounce a quarter off it, but she’d rather bounce on his thighs. Her sex clenched, and a fresh wave of dampness escaped.

The pace of her heart escalated. The man reached for the coverlet on the bed and yanked it off with a swift gesture. It took her a moment to realize he’d done so to wrap it around the body on the floor. Gratitude waded into the fray of her conflicting emotions, and, when he was done with the first body, he turned back and stripped the sheet from the bed.

A little hysterical giggle bubbled up in her throat. She was alone in a hotel room with the hottest naked guy she’d ever seen while he dealt with the bodies of two men he’d killed. Killed.

Reality crashed in around her, and she bolted to her feet. Why the f*ck am I still sitting here? Getting the hell away from the psychopath—granted, exceptionally sexy psychopath—made a f*ck-ton more sense than sticking around to become Body Number Three.

She’d almost made it to the door when those hot arms closed around her and caged her back against his naked body. The warm, tangy, masculine scent of him coated her, and she stopped struggling immediately. Hell, she could feel the weight of his cock pressed right against her ass, and she wanted to rub against him.

“I’m losing my mind,” she moaned.

“Shh.” His voice wrapped her up more snugly than the linens he’d used to shroud the dead men. He stroked a hand over her short, spikey hair, and she wished she’d had time to shower. It wasn’t fair that she was all dirty and sweaty and pressed up against that wall of muscle.

“I’m not going to hurt you, little one. But it’s not safe for you out there.”

His lips were pressed right up to her ear, and every word stoked a fresh shiver of anticipation, so much so that she didn’t quite process the words. “But you killed them.” Oh God, he’d killed them. She was locked in a room with a killer, and she was running from drug dealers. How the hell had she gotten herself in this mess?

“I can hear others out there, and, from their conversation, they are looking for you.” He stroked her hair again, and the tension began to bleed out of her. “How many were there?”

“Four?” She didn’t know, not really, and she didn’t care. “Andropov probably has an entire posse with him. This hotel is his favorite, and word on the street is he keeps a mistress here. I just wanted him to leave my brother alone.” The confession poured out of her.

“I can make that happen,” and it was a sensuous promise. He carried her over to the bed and set her down. “Stay put, I’m going to make a call.”

She wanted to weep when he let her go because he took all that delicious heat with him. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The need to flee had been supplanted by the need to do exactly as he’d said.

Maybe he’d come back and touch her again. Instead of abandoning her, however, he cupped her chin. She tried not to wince. Her face hurt all over again, and her right eyelid twitched in time with her heartbeat.

“You need ice, and I want that looked at. What’s your name, little one?”

Even as she wanted to surrender, survival instinct clamped her jaw shut. Maybe if she didn’t tell him, he wouldn’t kill her. Every minute she lived was a minute closer to the possibility of escape. But I don’t want to escape.

“I’m Fox,” he told her as if following her thoughts’ crazy train. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She wanted to believe him. But she’d seen his face. She could describe him in detail. But I won’t. No way she’d turn him in, even if he was a killer. “Do you promise?”

A smile deepened the creases at the corners of his mouth, and the tension around his almond-shaped eyes relaxed. “I don’t want to hurt you, I promise. Come on, tell me your name, little one.”

No, she shouldn’t do it, but her mouth opened, and she said, “Jubilee.”

“Jubilee.” He wrapped his lips around the syllables of her name, and she wanted to come from the caress of it. He was still naked, and she could, too. It wouldn’t take that long. He stroked his thumb against her lower lip. “Look at me, Jubilee.”

And she couldn’t do anything but stare up at him. “You’re pretty,” she said. Heat scorched her face and made her wounded cheek hurt all the more, but she wanted the pain if it meant she could keep staring at him.

Fox chuckled. She liked his name. “Thank you, Jubilee.”

When he said her name again, another wave of lust crashed over her. Yes, she could be naked in seconds, but she didn’t dare pull away from his touch. Maybe when he let go of her chin, she’d get her too-hot jacket off. Her nipples went tight, and she licked her lips.

“I want you to do exactly as I say, all right?”

“Yes.” She caved immediately to her desire. “Anything. Can I touch you?”

He frowned, and her world crashed. “Not yet. Stay here, close your eyes, and go to sleep. We’ll talk in a little while.”

Sleep? She didn’t want to go to sleep. She wanted to touch him, and, if she couldn’t have that, maybe she should go back to her original plan, which involved running like hell. But her eyelids drooped even as her mind protested, and she rubbed her uninjured cheek against his hand.