Stroke of Midnight (Nightcreature #1.5)(68)

She opened her eyes and peered at him as he petted her hair while he was still lodged deep within her. "Oh, Rider… this wasn't supposed to happen until—"

"Shush," he said, kissing away her words and banishing them. "This had to happen."

"But—"

"Uh-uh," he murmured, sliding his hand up and down her side and finding her breast. "Don't get nervous on me now. I'm over the top and crazy about you. Whatever happens, happens."

"I'm crazy about you, too. That's the problem. But this happened too fast."

"How is that a problem?" He looked deeply into her eyes, loving the fact that he'd put tears of pleasure in them.

"Because I want to make it last forever."

He kissed the bridge of her nose, her face, and found her earlobe. "Tell me how that's a problem… like I told you in the bathroom, all you had to do was say so."

"I have to get something to eat. Soon."

He stared at her for a second, and then laughed. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I forgot we were supposed to be getting something to eat. It's just that when you came to the door in that towel, wet, and then put that lavender dress up to your pretty skin… then I touched your hair. I lost it."

"You promised you'd pull out." She smiled at him.

He closed his eyes. "Tara… I couldn't… so help me, God."

He felt her cringe and knew that he'd messed up, knew that he should pull himself from her deep, warm valley to let her up, but that was next to impossible at the moment. And the thought of having to sheathe latex between him and that sensation, after knowing how good she felt, was going to be impossible, too.

"Rider, if I don't eat, I'll die."

"Okay," he said, bracing himself for the knife of cold air that would slice him when he pulled away from her. "All right. But when we get back to the room, please tell me you'll still feel the same way."

She touched his face and then kissed his cheek. "Once I eat and the sun goes down… I have this really dark side, sweetheart, that, uh… might make you feel differently. It might shock you."

He closed his eyes and flopped back on the bed, so grateful to be alive. His prayers had been answered. She was beautiful on the inside, gorgeous on the outside, was kind, gentle, funny, sexy, smart, passionate, and she knew how to handle herself on the back of his bike, plus loved music… she was trying to tell him that she had a little bad girl in her? Oh, yeah, he was definitely a blessed man.

"Let's get you something to eat, so we can get back here pronto and then you can shock me all you want."

She just looked at him for a moment, then her gaze went to the window. The sun was low, she could tell by the orange glow at the edge of the drapes. He didn't understand. She brought her hand to the side of her neck where he'd instinctively bitten her, as though he knew just the thing that would send her into a frenzy. But how could that be? No one uninitiated knew the secret. She let her breath out in defeat. A soul-mate would know, would have an instant roadmap to her body, just like he'd stumbled upon an immediate trail to her heart. All of it was working her mind way too hard.

He laughed when she sighed, trying to will his erection away. This woman had him tied to her in a way no other woman ever had and he loved every minute of it. He laughed. She was going to be the death of him yet.



"The lady said she wanted it rare, not medium. If she wants the steak still mooing when you put the plate down, give it to her, so please take this one back."

"Thank you," Tara said quietly, ignoring the indignant look the diner waitress gave her. It was already late afternoon, and she sat in the local diner they had found and studied Rider. She'd bitten the man so hard that the side of his neck had a huge purple blotch on it. She was just thankful there weren't puncture marks. The sunglasses he'd bought her had helped, and every once in a while he would stare at her hard and ask if she was all right. It made her smile. She was flattered that he was so anxious to get back to the room that he was fidgeting with the silverware. She understood all too well, she could barely sit in the vinyl booth herself. His hair was still damp from the shower, and the heat in the diner and drips from his hair made his T-shirt cling to his torso. She watched the muscles in his shoulders work beneath the thin cotton fabric. Just looking at him was making her want to slide out of her seat.

Nobody had ever made her feel this way. At least not a man with a soul. He was a gift she wouldn't squander. She felt his caring all the way down to the bottoms of her feet. He was special. Suddenly she desperately hoped he'd be asleep by the time it got dark. Maybe the blood hunger wouldn't hit her so hard tonight. Maybe she could beat this thing and come out on the other side with a real life with someone who cared. As long as she didn't take his blood, they had a chance.

Lavender suited her. The dark rush of her skin against the pale color just twisted him in knots as he watched her practically inhale her steak. Just when he thought he had her all figured out, he learned something fabulously new about her.

He could almost see her coffee-brown nipples through the sheer fabric of her dress, could remember what every inch of her smooth skin felt like, and that scent, and the way she'd gathered up her hair into one easy-to-make-fall bun. He had to remember to stick his fork in his food and cut it, bring it up to his mouth, then chew it. Where she'd bitten him still burned and the signal resonated in his groin like reverb. It had been damn sexy. Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore. Just watching her made a whole other hunger surface—the one he had for her.