Kissing Sin

Jack gave me the once-over, though he couldn't really see much thanks to the coat. "Very good." He handed me a bit of paper. "Memorize this. Ring it when you come out of the club, and we'll have a car pick you up."



I took the paper, inscribed the number to memory as ordered, then handed it back. "What next?"



"Next we get you to the car."



"Is it safe for us to be going direct from here to the airport?"



Jack pressed a hand to my spine, guiding me down the hall. "You'll be changing cars. Quinn's limo will actually be taking you to the airport."



I nodded. "Did you happen to find out anything more about that breeding center we were in?"



"Not a lot."



"What about building permits and the like?" Surely someone somewhere had to give approvals. Surely you couldn't build a structure that big without someone noticing.



"None registered. The land itself was bought by a Peter James some three years ago."



"Let me guess, Peter James doesn't exactly exist."



"And he paid in cash, so there's no credit trail to follow."



That raised my eyebrows. Credit cards were the norm these days - cash was something rarely seen, let alone used. "And that didn't trip any alarms?"



Jack grimaced. "No."



"I don't suppose the security cams at the land office caught Peter James's pic, did they?"



"As a matter of fact, they did. We're working on retrieving it at the moment."



"Give me a look when you do." Hell, it might just trigger a much needed memory.



We walked through the center and out the doors. Quinn waited near a pale gray government car, looking like a dark angel in his black suit and burgundy shirt. His gaze slid down my body, then rose to linger on my face and hair. He didn't say anything, but his hunger burned across my skin, leaving a prickle of perspiration in its wake. It wasn't only sexual hunger, but blood thirst. And that thirst was so thick, so strong, it left me breathless. He was pushing his limits, and it was reaching dangerous levels. I had to wonder why.



Or did he plan to slake his thirst on some of the lovely ladies at the function? Perhaps raise a little money for the charity on the side? Hell, I knew women who'd pay a fortune to experience the sexual rapture that went with a vampire's bite. After experiencing it myself, I could understand why.



Quinn opened the door and ushered me inside, his hand pressing into my spine, and sending waves of delight lapping across my skin. But despite this reaction, I couldn't help noticing that his fingers were cold. And vampires only got cold when they weren't taking enough blood.



My gaze went to his. The raw desire briefly evident in his dark eyes made my heart stutter, yet, beneath that, the hunger lurked.



"Take care, both of you," Jack said. "Remember, this is just a scouting expedition, nothing more. Don't do anything other than look."



That last point was aimed at me, and I raised an eyebrow. What in hell did he think I was going to do? Drag the general behind into the toilets and beat the crap out of him? Okay, the idea did have appeal, but even if the general was the man who was abusing me at the breeding center, there wasn't actually much point to hitting him. At least not until we knew if he was the power behind everything - and somehow, I thought not.



"Ring me from the plane on the way home," Jack continued. "And, Riley, we'll have people guarding the exits of the Rocker."



I nodded. Jack slammed the door shut and the car took off. Silence fell. I didn't see any point in breaking it. I'd said all I had to say to Quinn, and the ball now lay in his court. But his hunger continued to lap across my skin, making breathing difficult. It had to stop. He couldn't go into a function full of women emoting the way he was. It was almost as bad as a werewolf's aura - and would create a riot in an instant.



Unfortunately, there was only one way I could ease his hunger, and I had a suspicion I'd have to push him into taking blood from me. But I couldn't do anything here in the car. I didn't mind public displays, but Quinn did. Besides, I wanted the driver to concentrate on what he was doing rather than what I was doing. There tended to be less accidents that way.



Once we reached the city, we drove into the bowels of a public car park and changed cars. Quinn's car had thick dark windows that I rather suspected were bulletproof. It seemed he wasn't taking any chances, and of that, I was glad.



It didn't take us long to get to Essendon airport from there. Quinn's plane - a sleek and silvery Y-shaped craft - was on the tarmac ready to go. We climbed aboard. Beside the pilot and copilot in the cockpit, there was just me and Quinn and the sofalike seats. The perfect place for a much needed seduction. Or, at the very least, a half seduction. I wasn't going to compel him to go the whole way if he didn't want to. Even if my hormones were screaming in horror at the thought.



I waited until the plane leveled out, then unbuckled the seat belt, took off the coat, and rose.



The temperature in the small cabin leapt about ten degrees.



His gaze met mine, the dark depths wary. The hunger I'd felt before was gone, but the strain touching the corners of his eyes suggested it hadn't gone all that far. "Don't, Riley."



"Don't what?" I said, all innocence. "Talk to you about our plans for tonight?"



"We know what we have to do. There's nothing else to discuss."



"No? So you're just going to continue calling me Riley, are you?"



He hesitated, a faint gleam of amusement touching his eyes. "Barbie would be more appropriate - even though you're not blonde."



"So you approve of the boob lifts?" I asked, thrusting out my breasts for inspection.



He made a slightly gargled sound and didn't answer. Men were men, I thought with an inner grin, no matter whether they were twenty years old or well over a thousand. Show them a good set of tits, and their brain went south.



I used that moment to straddle his lap. By the time his brain had reconnected, it was far too late to stop me.



And given the evidence of what I was sitting on, part of him was more than enjoying the sudden closeness.



I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his nose. It was cold. So were his lips when I brushed a kiss across them. He didn't react to either kiss, didn't touch me in return.



"Riley, I can't take just a taste and stop." His voice was flat, and as cold as his body. And yet there was a desperation in his eyes that warmed my soul.



"Chocolate is like that," I murmured, continuing to brush kisses across his cheeks, his neck.



"What?"



I smiled and kissed his lips again. His teeth were beginning to protrude. I ran my tongue across their needle-sharp ends, letting them cut my tongue, letting the taste of blood touch his mouth.



He groaned.



"You may not want to do this, but you need to. Your hunger burns my skin, and I'm not exactly sensitive when it comes to emotions. But I'm betting there'll be empaths and sensitives at that function tonight. You go in like this, emoting hunger all over the place, and what the hell do you think will happen?"



"Nothing will happen, because it'll be under control by then."



"It won't. It can't, because you're too close to the edge." I stared into the beautiful black depths of his eyes. "Dammit, your skin is cold. Why are you pushing yourself like this? It doesn't make any sense."



"I have my reasons." His hands went to my hips, his touch almost bruising. "Move, or I'll make you move."



I gripped tight with my thighs. "Pretend I'm Barbie, fust another seductive brunette you're planning to wine, dine, and bed. Nothing serious will ever come of us, and you'll never see me after tonight. I'm just a quick and easy fuck."



"I can't do that," he said, voice tight with the tension I could see in his eyes, feel humming through his body.



"Why not?"



"Because you're not Barbie, and you'll never be just a quick and easy fuck."



I raised my eyebrows at the edge in his voice. "But that's all I was when we first met. You admitted that yourself."



"That was then."



"Nothing much has changed since then."



"Everything has changed since then."



"For God's sake, we don't even know each other beyond the realms of sex. And being great in bed doesn't mean we'll be great out of it."



"I know, I know." Frustration edged his voice. "Riley, I want you. I need you. I just don't know if I can stand being with you."



"I'm not asking you to become my full-time lover right now. I'm just asking you to take what you need."



He touched a hand to my face. "You don't get it, do you?"



"What?"



"One touch, one taste, is never going to be enough."



I smiled. "It doesn't have to be enough."



"I know. And if you were something other than a werewolf, I would take all you could offer in an instant."



I sighed. "But I am a werewolf, I will always be a werewolf, and asking me to forget all that I am is like asking you to stop taking blood."



"It's not the same - "



"It is," I insisted. "The moon celebration is vital to a wolf. The dance is vital. Sex is a part of what we are, as vital to us as blood is to you."



"You would not die if you didn't have sex."



"Wouldn't I? You know that for sure, do you?"



He didn't answer. I sighed again. "Look, take however much time you need to make a decision about us, but in the meantime, you can't go to the function emoting like you are. An orgy is not what we need to happen tonight."



"I can control it."



"Have you any idea just how strongly you're projecting?"



"I'm not."



"Maybe not at the moment, because you're holding it fiercely in check. But when I walked to the car, you weren't controlling it, and when I took off my coat, you weren't."



"That was a moment of surprise, nothing more."



"It's at dangerous levels."



"No, it's not."



I growled in frustration. "Dammit, do you want to feel exactly what you're projecting?"



"What I want is for you to get off my lap and leave me in peace."



"Answer the damn question."



"Riley - "



"Yes or no."



"If I say yes, will you back off?"



"Yes.



"Then, yes."



I dropped my shields and let him have it. The more a werewolf desires sex, the more intense their aura. I wanted him real bad, and my aura reflected that. It was lust and heat and passion all rolled into one explosive punch. Quinn's eyes widened, and suddenly the air was so thick and hot I couldn't even breathe. I re-shielded fast, and took a deep, quivering breath. "That's what you're projecting."



Then I leaned forward and kissed him fiercely. He didn't react for the barest of seconds, then he was right there with me, his mouth plundering mine almost desperately.



"I need you," I whispered against his lips. "As much as you need me."



He groaned and pulled me closer, squashing my breasts against his chest. The thunder of his heart matched mine, and the heat of his desire warmed every pore. But the hard length of him was still restrained by his pants, and this was bad, because I was aching to feel him deep, deep inside.



I rose onto my knees, reaching between us, freeing him from the restrictions of his clothing, pushing his pants back down his legs. Then I thrust down on him, claiming him in the most basic way possible. He groaned again, his hands sliding down to my hips, his grip bruising as he pressed me down harder. I echoed his groan, loving the way he seemed to complete me. It had nothing to do with his size or his shape or anything physical. It was almost as if when our flesh was joined, our spirits combined and danced as intimately as our bodies.



He began to move, not gently, but fiercely, urgently, and I was right there with him. The deep down ache bloomed, spreading like wildfire across my skin, becoming a kaleidoscope of sensations that washed through every corner of my mind. I gasped, grabbing his shoulders, pushing him deeper still. Pleasure exploded between us, his movements becoming faster, more urgent.



"Look at me," he growled.



My gaze met his, and something deep inside quivered. His eyes burned with desire and passion, but something else, something I couldn't name, seared the ebony depths, stirring me in ways I didn't think possible.



This is why I can't be casual, he said, his mind-voice flowing through every fiber, a rich, sensual song that had my soul soaring, and my heart aching. This is far deeper. Far stronger.



I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. His mouth claimed mine again, his kiss as ardent as his body. Then everything broke, and I was unraveling, groaning with the intensity of the orgasm flowing through me. He came with me, but as his body flowed into mine, he broke our kiss, his teeth grazing my neck. I jerked reflexively when they pierced my skin, but the brief flare of pain quickly became something undeniably exquisite, and I came a second time, the orgasm shuddering on and on as he drank and drank.



When he finally released me, I collapsed against him, body quivering and head spinning. He wrapped his arms around me, and kissed the top of my head.



"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have taken that much."



"You needed it." My voice was harsh with tiredness, and perhaps a little shock at the sudden blood loss.



"Yes." He hesitated. "You were right. I should have taken sustenance far sooner."



I yawned, then asked, "So why didn't you?"



"Because it was the sweetness of your blood I desired. I didn't want other women."



I stirred and looked up at him. "You couldn't get it up?"



He grinned. "Oh, I could. I just didn't want to."



"That's stupid."



"Yes. Particularly seeing I'm old enough to know better." He slipped his hands under my butt, and lifted me off him. At least his touch had lost its cold edge. "You need to eat something, and regain strength."



"I need to sleep."



"That's only because I took so much blood. You must eat something rich in iron."



"You have a handy hamburger lying about this fancy crate?"



"As a matter of fact, yes I do." He did up his pants and rose. "This fancy crate has seen a lot of seductions over the years, and I've learned to cater for my meals." He Hashed me a smile over his shoulder that had my depleted blood stirring. "Hope you don't mind your burger microwaved."



"Not in the least." I forced myself upright, and shuffled to the toilet to clean up. The teeth marks in my neck were little more than pink dots. By the time we arrived at the function, they'd be gone. One good thing about a vampire bite - the evidence of it didn't hang around all that long. Unless, of course, you had multiple bites, which took a little longer to fade.



The rich smell of meat began to fill the air, and my stomach rumbled as I walked over to the microwave.



"Your burger, madam," he said, handing me the plate.



"Yum." I parked on a sofa and dove in. As far as microwaved burgers went, it was pretty damn good.



Quinn poured himself a bourbon, and sat down on the seat opposite. Maybe he figured it was safer keeping a little distance between us. Though if he thought I'd jump his bones again he was in for a disappointment. I couldn't afford to lose any more blood tonight.



"So," I said, licking the ketchup off my fingers. "Where do we go from here?"



His dark gaze followed my actions almost hungrily.



Obviously, his appetite was nowhere near sated, but given I could no longer sense it, it had dipped below danger point.



"We are in much the same quandary as we were before," he said.



"Why?"



"I don't want to share you, Riley."



Don't, not won't. That was a more-than-hopeful sign. "Then let's throw a few more facts into the mix. I live in Melbourne. You live in Sydney. That means it's not going to be possible for us to see each other every night, if only because you have a business to run."



"True."



"I have no intentions of moving to Sydney. Do you intend to move Evensong Air's headquarters to Melbourne?"



"At the moment, no."



"So, you're telling me you won't share, but you probably won't be able to get down here more than two or three times a week."



"Possibly. But lots of relationships work fine like that."



"Human relationships, yes. As I keep reminding you, I'm a werewolf, with werewolf needs."



He raised an eyebrow. "Even a werewolf doesn't need to have sex every night. I know that for a fact."



Need, no. Liked, yes. We could survive a few weeks' drought, as I had over the last month, but it wasn't ever something we did willingly, or often.



"Except when it comes to the moon dance. Have you ever seen what happens when a wolf cannot satisfy the urges of a moon?" The desire for sex mutated into something for more deadly, and only sex and blood could quench the fire.



"Seen it? Of course I have. I was the one who satisfied the blood urges after Talon kidnapped you, remember?"



I waved away the comment impatiently. "Besides that. I was chained, and therefore not really dangerous to anyone."



He snorted softly. "I have scars up my arm that prove otherwise."



Well, he was the one who put his arm in front of my teeth. What did he expect would happen, given the situation? "Quinn - "



He held up a hand. "Okay. No, I haven't seen a free wolf in full blood lust. But I know you and Rhoan are the result of such an event."



I nodded. "Our mom was headed back to her pack when her car broke down near a small country town. Lucky for the town, she met a newly risen vampire, and took the edge off her desires before she tore him to pieces. Had it not been for that vampire, up to a dozen humans could have died that night." No one knew why a wolf in blood fever went after humans, though the popular theory was the easy-prey one. For a moon-mad wolf, humans were fun to chase, and simple to bring down. "Making the promise you demand is dangerous, Quinn. For me, and for the community at large."



"I can be there for the moon dance," he said flatly.



"Can you guarantee that you'll be there the day of the full moon? For the two nights before it? Each and every month, for as long as we're together?"



He frowned. "No one can guarantee that."



"Another wolf can. He'll be there because he has to be there, for exactly the same reasons as I have to be there."



"You're not fucking another wolf at the moment." He hesitated, and something close to malevolence flickered across his face. "Besides Misha, of course."



"I met that alpha last night. I intend to see him again."



"Why?"



The urge to throw the plate at his thick head was so strong I had to clench my fingers to stop them from grabbing it. "I've told you why a hundred times. Stop thinking with your dick and start listening!"



His expression darkened. "Believe me, I'm not thinking with my dick here."



"You don't know me well enough to be thinking with anything else," I refuted. "For Christ's sake, you don't even like werewolves. Why in hell would you want to go exclusive with me?"



"If I had any choice in the matter, I would not be doing this."



I raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm hardly forcing you into it."



"No?"



"No."



"Then why do you invade my dreams?"



"It wasn't like I was doing it purposely. I was just dreaming."



"Only they weren't just dreams, but erotic dreams."



I frowned, wondering what the hell he was getting at. "So?"



"So, you weren't just dreaming, you were connecting to my mind and sharing those dreams with me."



I blinked. We'd been having real mind sex? How cool was that? And why couldn't we share something like that while waking?



"Because neither of us are physically ready for that sort of experience."



Annoyance swept through me. "Will you keep out of my damn thoughts?"



"You shield if you want me out."



I threw up full shields and gave him a glare. It was water off a duck's back. "What do you mean, neither of us are ready to share that sort of experience?"



"Just that. Merging minds during sex is as intimate as you can get, an experience that can forever effect you."



I raised an eyebrow. "You've done it?"



He hesitated. "Once."



"With whom?"



"The whom isn't important - "



"See," I cut in, throwing up my hands. "You want me to go exclusive, and yet you're not willing to tell me a damn thing about you or your past."



"The past is not important."



Maybe it wasn't, but the mere fact he didn't trust me enough to tell me was. But if he wasn't smart enough to realize that, then what was the point of even mentioning it?



"Just leave it casual," I said softly. "And take it from there."



"I can't."



"Why not?" I asked, perplexed. "I mean, we were casual a month ago, and you did that just fine."



He finished his drink then placed it in the small holder near the chair and stood. "As I told you before." he said, turning to look out the window. "A vampire is very territorial. You've invaded my being - and that being now considers you mine. Do you know how hard it is for me to sit back and watch you with other men? I couldn't do that for weeks on end. I'd kill them, Riley. I wouldn't be able to help it."



There was no emotion in his voice, but the flicker of pain that seared my mind told me this had happened before. And that that death was at the base of him hating weres. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What about a compromise?"



He didn't even bother looking at me. "What?"



"When you're in Melbourne to see me, I won't see anyone else. But when you're in Sydney, I'm free to see whom I wish. And the days leading up to the full moon are mine."



"What about Misha?"



"Misha is part of this mission, and until the mission is over, this agreement will not come into force. Besides, we both know Misha is not the only sinner I might have to kiss before this case is solved."



"If it was just kissing I wouldn't mind so much." He muttered, then turned around. "A deal, then."



My hormones let out a collective cheer. "And you'll accept the fact that there will be other lovers besides you?"



His dark eyes gleamed with displeasure. "As long as you stick to your promise once this mission is over, then yes."



Finally, we had an agreement we could both live with. "Want to celebrate the deal by cooking me another burger?"



A small smile touched his lips. "That I can do." And he did.









The function was being held on the eighth floor of The Haborside, a brand-new hotel complex that boasted views over the old Sydney Harbor Bridge and the Opera House. The ballroom itself was decked out in cream - walls, ceiling, and tables - as if not to compete with the magnificence of the views so visible through the windows that enclosed two sides of the room. The only glint of color to the scheme was the gold in the frames of the chandeliers., and the spray of rainbow hues across the ceiling as the light hit the heavy crystal pendants.



Of course, no one had told the guests that competing with the view wasn't an option, and the ballroom was a blaze of human color - at least when it came to the women. And I was pleased to note that most of the dresses were as short as mine. Liander had been right, as usual.



Quinn pressed a hand against my back as we followed the waiter down the stairs. Though the touch was light, it seared right down to my spine, and had need humming through my body. While I knew I couldn't afford to lose any more blood tonight, that didn't stop me from wanting him. By the same token, I didn't actually want to go to Misha feeling this way. The bastard didn't deserve it.



People glanced our way as we passed them by, some of them nodding in greeting at Quinn. He didn't even bother looking at them, much less responding. His gaze was strictly front and center, and I frowned, searching the crowd ahead of us, wondering what had caught his attention. Not that I could see much beyond the glitter of all the diamonds on show around us. It was just as well the room had lots of discreetly placed guards, because the truck-load of jewels on display would call to a thief as surely as nectar to a bee.



"What's wrong?" I asked, after a few seconds.



He glanced at me, dark eyes flat. "Thought I saw someone I knew."



"Male someone, or female someone?"



"Male. The son of a business rival."



"Anyone I'd know?"



"Unlikely, though you've undoubtedly heard of the company - Sirius Airlines."



"They just won the contract for daily flights to the European Collective's Space Station, didn't they?"



"Yes."



The dark way he said that had me glancing at him. "Beating you out of the contract, I'm gathering?"



"Yes."



"Publicly thumping him is not going to get that contract back, you know."



He gave me his vampire face. "Beating him up wouldn't do any good, because it is not the son that runs the company. I merely wish to give him a warning."



The waiter stopped at an empty table near the corner of the room. I glanced at the window, not sure I liked being so close to it. I might be disguised, but Quinn wasn't, and we still hadn't figured out who or what was behind the recent attempts on his life.



"So, what is his name and what are you warning him about?" I took the seat opposite the window. We might be only eight floors up, but if I got too close and saw the drop, my stomach would react. And I doubt that would endear me to my tablemates.



"That's not your concern," Quinn said.



His reply was almost absent, and annoyance rose. Dammit, I was getting more than a little tired of our relationship - whatever the hell that actually was - being a one-way information street. And being old and set in his ways wasn't excuse enough.



I thrust to my feet, needing to get out of there before I said something daft or we got back to the same old argument, but he grabbed me, his fingers like iron around my wrist.



"I'm sorry, Riley."



"No, you're not." I glanced down at his fingers. "Take your hand off my arm."



"Only if you sit down so we can talk."



"Right now, I have work to do. And I'm over talking to you."



"Please."



"No."



"What if I said the man I was looking for was Kellen Sinclair?"



"Telling me his name now means little." And I had to hope his Kellen wasn't my Kellen - though given the curveballs fate was throwing, I wasn't about to bet on it. "I want to be able to ask a question and have it answered civilly."



"I said I'll try, Riley, but you can't expect - "



He stopped abruptly.



"Yeah," I said softly. "But apparently it's okay for you to expect me to change overnight."



I peeled his fingers off my arm and stepped back, out of his reach. "I'm going to scout the room. I'll let you know if I scent or see anyone familiar."



He almost looked relieved at the prospect. "You shouldn't be doing that alone."



"Liander has masked my spoor and my looks. I'm safe enough here tonight."



"Even so, we're here to get a line on General Hunt, nothing more."



"We're here to uncover the trail to whoever is behind the gene manipulation business. I happen to think Hunt is just another rung in the ladder, which is why I want to scout the room first. There may be other players here."



Besides, I needed the time away from him. Needed to regroup my thoughts before I was tempted to tell him where to shove it. Hell, given fate's twisted line of thinking, it'd be my luck that the one man I walked away from would be the man who was my destiny.



"You find Hunt," I continued. "I'll join you once I look around."



I didn't give him the chance to argue, and quickly faded into the crowd milling on the dance floor. I was three-quarters of the way around the room - and feeling more than a little nauseous from the overwhelming wall of scent coming off every woman in the room, all of whom seemed to have bathed in the stuff - when I smelled it. Pine and springtime. Two of the scents I'd smelled in that breeding center.



I stopped abruptly and studied the people standing immediately in front of me. Just a bunch of gray-haired old ladies done up to the nines. No men. I frowned, and carefully sniffed the air, wondering if the press of aromas was confusing my senses.



The scent was there, as strong as before, and it was definitely coming from the group of women just ahead. Maybe there was a man in there somewhere, and I just couldn't see him.



I edged around a woman whose scent was so thick and orangy it made my already troublesome stomach threaten to rise, then moved closer to the group of elderly women. Still no men. Yet the scent was closer than before.



"So where is the delicious Martin?" one woman asked. "He owes me a champagne over that little wager we had."



Martin? Did she mean Martin Hunt? Did that mean his wife was in this group somewhere? I sidestepped around another couple, and finally saw her. In real life, she was just as broad set and nondescript as she'd been in the picture, and looked totally ill at ease in the blood red, calf-length evening gown.



She looked my way at that moment, and our gazes locked. Shock hit, freezing me in place. Her eyes were a muddy brown, but the irises were ringed by two separate colors - blue, and a pale amber. I knew those eyes. They were the eyes of the man from my past. The eyes of the man who'd visited me in the breeding center.



Only this wasn't a man, it was a woman.



The memories were faulty. Had to be. This wasn't possible.



Then the familiar scent swam around me, confirming the impossible was indeed possible.



It was Martin Hunt's wife, not Martin Hunt himself, who had used me in that breeding center.