Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)(26)

“I can’t do that.” She sounded miserable.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Then you’re just jerking me around,” he said. “Make up your mind. Have dinner with me or walk out the door.”

“Well, aren’t you the gentleman. Go f*ck yourself.” Her voice was cool.

“Is that a no?” He didn’t miss the brilliant flash of annoyance in her green eyes. Yes, dancing girl. I can read you. And this is a test of whether you can read me.

He couldn’t tell if she got it. There was a tense pause. He waited her out.

“I have a different suggestion,” she said.

“Let’s hear it.”

Her words came out in a nervous rush. “I don’t do bars or restaurants and I don’t want to go to any public spaces.”

“OK.”

“But if you want, I’ll go back to your place and, ah, spend the night with you. On the following condition.”

He braced himself for who the f*ck knew what. “Yeah? Let’s have it.”

“No questions,” she said.

He was taken aback. “Not one? Not even your name?”

“Especially not that. And when I leave, do not try to contact me again.”

“Ah. A one-nighter.”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be.”

“No questions at all?” he asked. “Favorite color? Favorite app? Favorite yoga pants?”

“Don’t push me,” she said. “That’s the only way this could work for me.”

Amazing. The ultimate horndog fantasy. No-strings sex. No consequences. And he actually felt ambivalent about it. “So what will we talk about?”

“Anything you want,” she said. “Except for me.”

He gave her an assessing look. “Could I persuade you to change your mind?”

She shook her head. “We could just, you know. Not talk.”

His heartrate surged. Hers, too. He was getting a baseline vibe. Hot pink intensifying to an erotic shimmer of scorching red. Undoubtedly what her sig looked like when she was urgently fantasizing about sex. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You don’t want me to take you out for dinner. Or let me get to know the real you.”

“Nope. Can’t do that.”

He studied her with narrowed eyes. “You want me to take you home and f*ck you up against a wall in the dark with my mouth shut.”

She recoiled, but her sig didn’t. The colors flared and deepened. “No,” she said.

“OK,” he said slowly. “We’re making progress. I didn’t think you were the no-name, one-timer type.”

“I’m not,” she admitted. “But we do this my way or not at all.”

“Can I agree without saying that I understand? Because I don’t.”

She waved that away. “Forget it. This is a bad idea. I’m sorry I even suggested it. Go home. Heave a sigh of relief and raise a glass of wine to your narrow escape.”

“Why? Are you on a Wanted poster? Armed and dangerous?”

“No questions,” she said.

He snapped his fingers. “Right. Slipped my mind.”

She glared at him, and just waited.

“So . . . are we on?” he asked.

“Yep.” She held her chin up. Elegant and poised, in spite of her shabby, shapeless clothes, but with his mods, he could see that she shimmered with excitement.

Curiosity was already dogging him. He liked gathering data, knowing all there was to be known, but she wasn’t giving anything away

She’d rejected the gallant suitor scenario, so f*ck it. She’d have to deal with the lust-crazed predatory animal that was beneath.

A powerful impulse roared up from the depths. He pulled her into a ravenous kiss.





Chapter 8


A childhood memory flashed through Caro’s mind. Of herself, thirteen years old, diving off a high, smooth granite cliff and into the old quarry. In midair, just before the frightening plunge into the dark, deep water.

The universe had distilled itself to this intersection of space and time, this room, this man. This kiss, charged with worshipful hunger.

Her own hunger roared up to answer it. She clung, melting, craving his heat, his strength. Her nails slid over his shoulders and his suit jacket, frustrated by his starched collar, his thick silk tie. She wanted to rip away all barriers to his hot skin. His lips were soft, seductively insistent. His mouth tasted so good. She drank in the subtle spice of his cologne, his glossy hair, sliding her fingers through it.

She abandoned herself to the sensations. Her body gave her no choice, and it was great not to have a choice. She was exhausted from choice-making. Her body had decided for her that the most important thing on earth was to be kissed as if she were this man’s heart’s desire.

She’d felt nothing but fear for so long, curled up like a seed in a pod. His touch made everything inside explode outward in a wild riot of color, scent, sensation.

Dangerous. Of course. This man was a luxury that she could not afford, and there would be a reckoning. Yes. Yes, she knew that. Fuck it. The knowing was just a shrill yapping in the back of her head. What was happening was all that mattered.

His arms were steely hard. His erection prodded her belly, made her ache and squirm, thighs squeezing around the hot, surprised glow. Shivering waves of tension convulsed and released, each new almost-orgasm blooming from the one before, each new one deeper. Noah Gallagher was a vast, undiscovered realm, and she wanted to discover him, all of him. To lose herself and stay lost. Seeing him and being seen. Tasting him and being tasted.