Rose. He w
as here because of Rose.
She was in the other shower. He could hear the water pounding against her skin as she hummed softly under her breath. He could smell the soap she was lathering over her breasts.
Jesus, she had beautiful breasts. And her legs… Long and strong enough to squeeze around him as he powered inside her, his fangs sunk into those lush, tempting—
Mac swore, turning on the water to drown her out. She was a demon bounty hunter, a member of an elite group of she-devils that had been sent after him to ensure his retrieval. He’d expected to be trussed up and on his way to London or Louisiana by now to face judgment in whatever court they’d assigned him to.
He hadn’t expected this.
Hobie and Jolene were in the suite one floor below, having followed them to Las Vegas, determined to support their team. Mac had forced them to accept the luxurious accommodations in the hotel instead of sleeping in their van. He’d been insistent—for the most part to assuage his own guilt for wishing he’d run out on them instead of agreeing to this ridiculous, blasted joke of a singing competition.
It was a joke, and a bad one at that. There was no way it could end well. He wanted to be able to blame Thomas or Saint, but this dangerous decision was his, just as it had been his choice to accept the movie deal.
Rose had backed him into a corner…but he’d let her.
He stepped under the spray and closed his eyes, seeing her as clearly as if she were standing in front of him. From the moment he’d caught her scent and heard her sweet, sexy voice twining around his, he’d known she was no ordinary demon. When she’d stood beside him on stage, watching him with desire in her eyes—desire he could sense everyone in the room reacting to—he wasn’t unaffected. It had pissed him off almost as much as it turned him on.
She tempted him more than a woman had been able to in more years than he cared to admit. Even now he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to resist, how he’d held back from taking what she’d offered right there, against the wall in the Belly Up Bar when his hand was up her skirt.
As hard as he’d been, if she hadn’t been a hunter, Mac knew he wouldn’t have held back. He would have taken her on stage, right in front of the human patrons of that small dive. Anywhere, as long as he could have her. It should have made him wary, how strong his attraction was to this half succubus gun-for-hire.
Human. Part of her is human.
He could reach out and touch that half of her if he wanted to. Feel what she was feeling. It would be more challenging than it was with an ordinary human—her demon blood offered protection from enchantment and illusion…but not from emotions. He’d known Saint long enough to know that. But then Saint had rejected so many aspects of what he was. He’d chosen to immerse himself in humanity and used his gifts as a technophile instead of his incubus genetics.
Rose, he sensed, didn’t put the same restrictions on herself. She made no apologies for the part of her nature that was strong enough to override her mission to capture him so that she could indulge in her sexual desires.
He’d heard things about the members of The Devil’s Garden. The erotic, carnal and often violent ways they had to insure a prisoner’s obedience and submission. How many vampires had Rose subdued with those thighs and the honey between them? She said that wasn’t her area, but Mac had a hard time believing any of her sisters could hold her unique appeal. For a man like him, her voluptuous body and playful demeanor was irresistible.
Some masochistic part of him needed to know whether or not she truly wanted him. Was she using her gifts to distract him, to get him too hot and bothered to keep his guard up? Or was it something more? In truth he didn’t care. Despite his denial, he wanted her. Ruse or folly, if he was going to do this—sing on stage at one of the most popular hotels in town—he was going to have her before he was found and taken in.
You need to get closer to her. Need to touch her to be sure.
He didn’t, but Mac gave in to the voice in his head and allowed himself to join the steam, to become nothing more than mist as he thought of her. He’d never used this ability to spy on a woman before, but he was beyond caring. He needed to see her.
When he joined her in her shower, it took every bit of restraint he had not to retake his true form and reach for her.
She was a siren. A goddess. Every inch the daughter of a succubus. Every lush curve designed to bring him to his knees. To give and receive pleasure. She ran her hands across her breasts, the soft curve of her stomach and he moved closer, hypnotized. He’d come here to get answers but…he couldn’t remember what the questions were. He couldn’t think of anything but her wet, flushed skin, the scent that was uniquely hers invading his senses.
She sat on the marble bench and leaned back with a contented sigh, arching her back in a feline move that drew his attention to her hard, bitable nipples.
Spread your legs, he begged silently and, as if she heard his request, Rose complied.
Yes.
Mac didn’t allow himself to think about what he was doing or wonder about the ramifications—he was too consumed with lust for coherent thought. He just wanted in.
He heard her startled moan of desire as he filled her, stroking inside her like the fingers of a lover, thrusting slowly in and out of her sex, knowing how tightly she would fit around his cock. He could see himself taking her here, like this. Lifting her legs over his arms and fucking her without restraint. She could take everything he could give. She wasn’t human. She would want more.
The possibilities were driving him crazy.
Oh you poor thing. You have no idea what you’ve been missing.
He wanted to fucking find out.
She spread her legs wider as his mist enveloped her body—curling around her nipples, caressing her skin…fucking her.