Ghostly Justice (Seven Deadly Sins, #2.5)(19)

Nearly an hour later, Grant stepped out of the hospital’s emergency room to where Rafe and Moira waited outside, under an awning to keep dry. Rafe had given Moira his trench coat, and now she needed it. But she wasn’t going to leave before they knew if Carter was going to be all right.

Moira said, “How is he?”

“They don’t know,” Grant said. “It would help if we knew what he was poisoned with.”

“No one will believe magic,” Moira said.

“If they pumped his stomach, he should be okay,” Rafe said. “It was either foxglove or bloodroot. Possibly belladonna, but either way, getting it out of his system and monitoring him should do it.”

“I told the doctor food poisoning, and they’re going to shut down the club until they can get the health department in, but dammit! This wasn’t supposed to happen!” Grant glared at them. “What happened? I want the truth.”

“The owner of the club is Rex,” Moira said. “I don’t know his last name. His girlfriend or whoever she was, is in the photograph from the camp. Where is it?”

Grant reached into a thin file and pulled it out.

Moira picked her out immediately. “Her.”

“Tessa Standler? She’s seventeen.”

“No. She’s at least ten years older.”

“Maybe she’s her sister.”

“It was her. I’m certain.”

Grant was skeptical, but said, “I need physical proof.” He turned to Rafe. “You promised this wouldn’t happen—you were supposed to watch out for Carter.”

“I was, but Moira was in trouble.”

Moira didn’t know what exactly had happened. “It was a draw,” she said. “I couldn’t get away, she couldn’t get at me.”

Rafe disagreed. “She was draining you, Moira, and you didn’t see it. She’s a psychic vampire. She doesn’t need your blood, she feeds on your energy.”

Maybe Rafe was right. Whatever had happened, Moira hadn’t experienced it before.

“What now?” she asked.

“I’m taking you both back to your hotel. Do not leave until you hear from me.”





Chapter Eight




As soon as they walked into the hotel room, Moira began checking their protections against black magic and demons. Rafe closed the door and grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him.

“I’m—”

“Nothing’s been disturbed.”

She wanted to ask him how he knew, but there was a dark cloud over Rafe’s face and then he was kissing her. His fingers pressed firmly into her bare shoulders, just short of hurting, and his lips where fierce, devouring her mouth with a desire she didn’t expect.

Who was she kidding? All night, from the minute Grant picked them up at the hotel until they left the hospital several hours later, Rafe had been watching her with his bottomless blue eyes—watching her closer than necessary.

His hands moved down her back, kneading her muscles, bringing her closer to him. His fingers didn’t stop moving, skimming every inch of her skin, burning in their urgency. Lust and love joined in a heated passion Moira couldn’t stop, didn’t want to even try to control.

Rafe’s hands moved down to her corset, unhooking each button one by one down her back. Rushed, unable to get it off fast enough for either of them. When the last hook was released, it fell to the floor, her breasts freed from the restraint. Rafe pushed her back until her thighs hit the bed, then she was on her back and Rafe’s mouth was on first one breast then the other, his hands kneading and rubbing, creating an erotic friction that was just shy of being painful. His hair was still damp from the rain that continued to steadily fall outside. She breathed in his raw smell, sweat and soap and a hint of aftershave so subtle she couldn’t discern what it was.

She pushed at his shoulders, wanting his shirt off, his skin against hers, but he didn’t yield. Rafe’s mouth moved from her breasts, up her throat, his breath coming fast, his hands touching her everywhere he could reach. The sounds from her chest were unfamiliar as he touched places she had no idea were erogenous. His hands held her head firmly, and she thought he was going to kiss her, then he turned her head and kissed her behind her ear, his tongue taunting the sensitive skin, until Moira gasped.

She pulled his shirt out of his pants. His skin was hot, almost burning, but she was used to the heat he generated. She broke into a sweat, the intensity of Rafe’s embrace turning her into a furnace.

“Off,” she commanded, pulling at his shirt. She heard a button pop. Then another.

He sat up and pulled both the button-down and the T-shirt over his head. She stared at his face, his expression a mix of passion and deep need. Then he laid back on top of her, his mouth on hers. She almost couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t want him to stop. Never had Rafe been so demanding of her, giving her his full self, claiming her full self.

Their struggle with his pants and her skirt was short. He unhooked her garters, and her panties fell off. His fingers touched her between the legs and she cried out, a sudden tornado inside her, spinning out of control. She didn’t need to guide Rafe into her, he was already there, replacing his fingers with his penis and sinking into her with one deep stroke.

Rafe held himself in check a moment, on the verge of explosion. But he didn’t want slow and easy. As soon as Moira reached down and grabbed his ass, he gave and took what they both wanted, what they both needed, at that moment.