Love Me to Death (Underveil, #1)(21)

“You scare me.”

His hand had stilled. “I swear to not hurt you. I could never hurt you.”

She was afraid to open her eyes and see his face. He sounded so sincere. “Except when you kill me.”

“No pain. Only pleasure.”

And then, he slid his hand up and gently stroked across her as his lips met hers. She gasped at the effect of his touch. It was as if every nerve ending in her body were exposed. Her body jerked, and he smiled against her lips.

“Easy,” he whispered, trailing his fingers up her abdomen to the swell of her breast. He deepened the kiss, twining his tongue with hers and his fingers into the hair at her nape . “Relax,” he murmured, but nothing in Elena could relax.

More. She needed more of him and his velvet tongue and his talented fingers that moved from one breast to the other, torturing her until she thought she might scream. Relax? Not a chance. This was wrong and dangerous, and honestly, downright stupid, but she’d never wanted anything like she wanted Nikolai. And, God, what he could do with his hands…

“Time’s up,” Stefan called from the other side of the door, jarring them to reality with several hard knocks.

“Shit,” Nikolai growled.

He pulled away, and she whimpered. Panting, she stared at him as he held her at arm’s length. Wide shoulders covered in those strange, and at the moment, painfully sexy markings—everything about him turned her on. But it shouldn’t.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out through his teeth. “I might have to kill a Time Folder.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said, half believing him from the look on his face. He was a killer after all.

He shrugged and then smiled. “I can’t. They can only destroy themselves, which is lucky for him.”

As she came back down to earth and the magic faded, she was grateful for the interruption. This man, Slayer, whatever he was, was dangerous. And even though her body disagreed vehemently, sex with him was a bad idea.

He stood and wrapped himself in a towel, but not before she got an eyeful of what he’d had under those bubbles. What in the world would she have done with all that? There was no way it would have worked out logistically, much less any other way.

She stared down at the cord that bound him to her—the one that held her prisoner. They were enemies. He had said so himself. She would need to keep her horny dying wishes to herself. Some things just weren’t meant to be. She stood and wrapped up in a towel as quickly as possible.

What had she been thinking? This guy was death. Death and sex didn’t mix. She had to keep herself under control and not let this ever happen again.





Chapter Seven


Fucking Time Folder. Nikolai glared at the back of Stefan Darvaak’s head as he introduced Elena to his tailor, a probable rodent shifter of some kind, who looked to be eighty in human years, which meant he was probably five centuries old. He and his assistant, a frail-looking woman in tinted glasses with dark skin and hair, had altered some of Elena’s clothes to accommodate the cord by buttoning on top of the sleeve since she couldn’t put her arm through.

He knew he should be grateful Darvaak was helping them, but still… He had been this close to having her, and he was certain the * had interrupted them on purpose. Shifting in the chair didn’t minimize the resulting ache, but he did it again anyway, keeping the bath towel tight at his waist.

Elena smiled as the Time Folder whispered something in her ear and Nikolai fantasized beating the living shit out of him.

“Perfect,” Darvaak said while she set the newly altered shirt to rights.

The little shiny jewels sewn onto the back pockets of her blue jeans winked in the light. Yeah. As if Nikolai needed something else to draw his attention to her ass. He shifted again.

The Time Folder threw a pair of jeans to him, and he caught them in his fist, wishing they were the guy’s neck.

Smiling, Darvaak sat in a leather chair. “I suppose we should get down to business now that it’s clear your charge is not going to die at any moment, leaving me with two bodies to dispose of.”

Nikolai pulled the new jeans on. Perfect fit. Of course, they were; Darvaak always got details right. One more reason to hate him. He tugged on one of the boots he’d carried in from the bathroom.

“Two?” Elena asked, sitting on the sofa next to Nikolai, who yanked on his second boot.

“Oh.” Darvaak grinned. “Oops. I forgot. The Slayer didn’t tell you. If you die, he dies. If he dies, you die.”

Her face clouded.

Forgot? Time Folders never forgot anything. He was provoking them, the bastard. He loved stirring things up. All of them did. Maybe knowing everything got boring. Well, Nikolai could make his life less tiresome. He could make the Time Folder wish he were dead even if he couldn’t outright kill him.

Her eyes narrowed on Nikolai’s face. “You lied to me.”

“A Slayer lie?” Darvaak gasped, then grinned and leaned back to watch the inevitable show he had just breathed to life.

Nikolai stood, and the tailor scurried from the room. His assistant pushed her glasses up on her nose, but kept her head down, needle weaving in and out the shoulder of a black T-shirt furiously.

“I haven’t lied to you, Elena.”

“You did. You said you’d…” Her eyes flooded with tears.