TWO
It had been more than a year since a man had touched Erin with such bold sensuality. Even David had been too much the professional, as aware as she’d been of the rules.
Until it had been too late.
But Reece Champion cared nothing for polite, professional distance, for political correctness. He wanted her. Period.
Temptation surged through Erin on a river of pounding blood. Why not? Yes, sex with him would be well beyond the call of duty, but what better way to win his trust? The Outfit wasn’t the FBI, after all; its agents specialized in breaking the rules. And once she’d become his lover, Erin could gain the leverage to break this case wide open.
God knew she’d been coming up empty so far. She needed a break, and he could give it to her. One small opportunity could be the key to avenging David and finding out just what the hell had happened last year.
Champion’s mouth brushed along the straining cords of her throat, bringing the rapid spin of her thoughts to an abrupt halt. The teasing sensation made her breath catch as he paused to nibble gently. She breathed a soft sound, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper.
The helplessness of that tiny noise jolted her, forced her to wonder if her judgment was entirely sound. She certainly had reason to doubt it; her head was spinning, and spots of light floated in front of her eyes.
Blinking, she realized the lights were stars. She’d tipped her head back as Champion pressed his lips to her banging pulse. His teeth nipped gently.
Erin felt her weakened knees give. He caught her against him, one hand wrapped around the curve of her bottom, the other still cupping her breast. Driven by pure instinct, she lifted one leg and curled it behind his, opening herself to him.
There are a hundred people in the next room, some fragment of self-preservation whispered. “Champion, we can’t do this,” Erin moaned.
“Not here,” he agreed, his voice so rough and dark with anticipation, a ball of need began to heat between her thighs. “Where are you staying?”
“The Ambassador. On”—she broke off with a gasp as he raked his teeth across her pulse—“on Peachtree Street.”
“Not a hotel. Not for this.” He drew back. “I’ll take you home with me.”
Her mouth opened to say, “No, you won’t,” but then she met his hot animal gaze and found the words beyond her willpower.
Champion raised a strong hand and tucked a lock of hair back into her elegant French twist, then scanned her with a single, searing glance. “There.” He smiled crookedly. “You’re presentable.”
She automatically glanced down his big body until her gaze snagged on his zipper. The bulge there made her eyes widen. “You’re not.”
He looked down, then up at her again through the feathered screen of his lashes. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ll just have to walk in front of me.”
A giggle escaped her. Horrified, she clamped her teeth together. She never giggled. It was so damn unprofessional.
But then, looking into those hot green eyes, it was easy to believe professionalism was overrated.
He took her elbow in one big hand and guided her toward the door. His grip was gentle as he escorted her into the brightly lit ballroom, yet something about it made her feel like a pirate’s conquest being borne off into the night.
I shouldn’t be doing this, she thought as she walked just ahead of him through the crowd. I’ve got to tell him to stop. Now, before it goes too far.
It shouldn’t be this difficult to tell him no. Not for her. Over and over again, Erin had proven herself the master of her own emotions. Even with David, the man she’d loved.
Maybe that’s why I’m finding it so tough now. For years her partner’s cautious determination to play by the rules had kept them apart. Erin had gone along with him at first, but toward the end, she’d grown tired of it. She’d wanted David far more than she’d wanted to go by the book.
But David was the book.
In the end his precious rules hadn’t saved them from the nightmare that had destroyed them both. Of course, giving in to their mutual passion probably wouldn’t have saved them, either. One way or another, David would still be dead, and Erin’s FBI career would still be in ruins. On the other hand, she might also have something more to remember than grief, regret, and cold, dead dreams.
She was sick of regret, of yearning uselessly for a passion she’d never tasted. She wanted to feel Reece’s clever mouth on her bare skin, wanted to feel him drive to his full, hard length inside her. Wanted him so badly, she didn’t give a damn about rules, risk, or even common sense.
For once, Erin Grayson was going to get what she wanted.
Poor little Latent.
Reece could sense Erin’s losing battle with the demands of her body. She had no idea of the power of the erotic undertow they’d been caught in.
He did.
He supposed if he was any kind of gentleman at all, he would release her and walk away. He’d probably have done just that a year ago, before he’d spent months locked in a hell of hate and sand, among wary women who wouldn’t even meet his eyes.
As it was, she wasn’t the only one skidding out of control. Now Reece craved the release he’d find in her lush, hot femininity far too much to care about playing fair.
They’d both have to take their chances.
The waiter balanced his tray of canapés as an overweight guest made her selection. His gaze, however, was focused on Reece Champion and Erin Grayson as they slipped out through the ballroom’s double doors.
“Targets are leaving,” he murmured, just loud enough for his body mike to pick up the words.
The woman looked up, her plump fingers hesitating over a quiche. “What?”
He smiled at her. “Nothing, ma’am. Nothing at all.”
Inside a catering truck in the ComTec parking lot, James Avery frowned as he watched the monitor for the elevator security camera. Erin was wrapped in Champion’s arms again as they kissed with the same ravenous hunger the waiter’s button camera had recorded when they’d stepped onto the balcony.
At his elbow Steven Parker snickered. “I thought you said she was a pro.”
Avery frowned. “She is. I’ve known her ten years—hell, I trained her. She’s intelligent, capable, and controlled, and she breaks the rules only when she has to. That’s why I hired her for the Outfit to begin with, despite the mess with her partner. So what the devil is she doing now?”
The blond’s lips curled into a thin smirk. “Looks to me like she’s about to put her assets to good use.”
Which certainly played into their plans. And yet…Avery drummed his long brown fingers on the monitor console. “This is totally out of character. Wonder if Champion’s doing something to her?”
“If he’s not, he certainly intends to.” Parker’s pale eyes were focused hungrily on the monitor. “At least, judging by the way his hand is sliding up her skirt.”
Avery eyed the other agent in distaste. Parker might be the nominal head of this operation, but if he kept up the attitude, Avery was going to bitch to the FBI until they sent in somebody else.
Frowning, he switched his attention to the monitor. Grayson and Champion stepped hastily apart as the elevator neared the lobby. The camera angle didn’t allow a view of her face, but Avery thought she staggered slightly.
But why? He knew good and damn well Erin wasn’t tipsy. She’d had one glass of champagne and a sip or two of another. Not nearly enough to test the tolerance of a woman who’d drunk Avery himself under the table a memorable time or two.
Had Champion done something to her?
“We should have told her what she was getting into,” Avery said aloud, voicing the thought that had been nagging at him since he’d learned the details of Parker’s plan. “I don’t like sending her in blind.”
The agent snorted. “She’d have been terrified, and with Champion’s senses, he’d have known it.”
Avery glowered as he remembered watching a tech tape a body mike to Erin’s flat belly just last week. They’d all known if the cultists of Death’s Sabbat made her for a government agent, they’d kill her on the spot. Yet there’d been nothing in those clear blue eyes but ruthless determination.
Erin was completely dedicated to shutting down the cult she held responsible for her partner’s death, and she was willing to do whatever it took to accomplish that aim. Her hunger for justice was so great, it left no room for fear or self-doubt. “Erin Grayson is no coward,” he growled.
“She’d better not be.” Parker leaned back in his seat and laced his hands behind his head. “But think about it. What if we’d asked you, ‘How’d you like to be a vampire’s dinner date?’ What would you have said?”
“I’d have done my job,” Avery said stiffly. “Just like Erin.”
“And Champion would have known something was off. She wouldn’t have gotten close enough to sniff his aftershave.” Parker jerked his chin at the monitor showing the view from the lobby’s security camera. The vampire was guiding her toward the revolving door with a hand resting on the small of her back. “He’s sure letting her in close now.”
Avery frowned, knowing the Fed was right.
That didn’t mean he had to like it.
Erin watched in admiration as the valet drove Champion’s car up to meet them at the curb. The black Ferrari convertible looked more like a jet fighter than a car, and its engine rumbled like a tiger’s purr.
“I’m not compensating for anything, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Champion grinned as he beat the valet to the passenger door and opened it for her.
She remembered the bulge he’d pressed against her belly. “The thought never even crossed my mind.” He laughed as she sat down and eased her legs inside, careful of her short skirt.
A fire truck roared by, its shrill siren piercing the spell Champion had spun with his big body and raw silk voice. Erin took a calming breath of cool night air as he started around the car.
Pausing in front of the Ferrari’s nose, he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “Pardon me,” he said, raising his voice to be heard as he dialed with a thumb. “I have to give my housekeeper some instructions.”
As he murmured into his cell, Erin frowned, not entirely comfortable with the idea of going to his house. For one thing, she hated giving up the home-court advantage.
Besides, her hotel would be safer. A place filled with so many people would make him think twice about any criminal intentions he might be harboring.
As Champion slid in next to her, she opened her mouth to tell him she’d changed her mind. Then he looked over at her, one corner of that pirate’s mouth kicking up. Something in that half-smile sent adrenalin and heat surging through her.
It was the same reckless exhilaration she felt going undercover at one of the Sabbat’s dark celebrations—half fear, half pleasure.
What the hell. She really couldn’t afford to pull the plug anyway, not now that they were actually on the way to his house. Her objective, after all, was to get him into a relationship she could use to find out if he was financing the cult. Pissing him off by playing cock tease was not the way to do it.
As Champion pulled out of the parking lot, the wind made its first pass through her hair. Erin tilted her head back, letting the breeze cool her face.
No, she wouldn’t back out. Getting close to Champion might give her the weapon she needed to blow the cult wide open. Which in turn would both restore the shine to her tarnished reputation and avenge David’s death.
That was worth any risk.
“I’m going after them,” Parker said, rising to his feet. “I’ll take my car. This van would stand out like a hooker in church. Want to back me up?”
“Yeah, sure.” Avery rose from his seat as the FBI agent slid open the truck’s door. As the two men strode over to the nondescript blue sedan parked nearby, he frowned. “Shouldn’t we mobilize the rest of the men?”
“No point.” The agent shook his head. “We won’t be taking him tonight. I do want to keep an eye on them, though.”
Avery nodded and got in the passenger side. For once, Parker had said something he agreed with.
Champion’s home was far more impressive than Erin would have expected, given his self-described status as a second cousin in his sprawling clan. As they drove through a wrought-iron security fence, she gazed around in admiration. The house looked more like an English manor than anything else, complete with a turret entry and redbrick walls. Towering windows accentuated the effect with cream brick borders that reminded her of a medieval castle. “Nice house,” she drawled in dry understatement.
He threw her a flashing grin. “It’s not mine. Belongs to the family.”
Erin grinned at him. “You squatting, Champion?”
“Something like that.” He whipped the Ferrari up the curving drive and parked it in front of the door. As he slid out of the car, she stayed put, suspecting he intended to open the car door for her.
She was right. He extended a hand to help her out. She took it and slid from the car. “Thank you.”
Champion tucked her hand into the bend of his brawny arm. “Would you like a tour of the garden?”
“In the dark?”
He shrugged. “It looks best by moonlight.”
“Why, Champion—if I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a romantic streak.” She let him guide her to the brick sidewalk that curved around behind the house.
“Of course.”
“Of course?” She cocked her head at him. “Most men I know would rather be called a barbarian than a romantic.”
Champion smiled slightly. “The most dangerous men are always romantics, Erin. A barbarian will kill for self-interest. A romantic will kill for a dream.”
She opened her mouth only to close it again as she remembered the assorted cops she’d worked with over the years, in the FBI and out of it. “You know, you’re right.” Erin canted him a look as he led her around the well-lit walkway. “So are you saying you’re dangerous?”
“What do you think?”
She eyed his pirate smile. “I think you just may be the most dangerous man I’ve ever met.”
He didn’t answer, but that smile took on a feral cast that made her heart kick in anticipation.
When Erin dragged her fascinated gaze away from his face, she saw the garden. “Now this,” she said, stopping to admire it, “really is a garden made for moonlight.”
White roses nodded in the night breeze, almost glowing in the light of the moon. Magnolias stood sentinel between the bushes, their spreading branches heavy with pale, waxy flowers. Creamy azaleas circled the bases of the great trees like drifts of snow, and lightning bugs flashed among them, putting Erin in mind of nocturnal fairies.
“I’ve got to ask,” she said, gesturing around them as they strolled among the trees. “Why design a garden to be viewed at night?”
“I’m too busy to use it during the day.” He smiled slightly.
They rounded a hedge to see a marble fountain in the shape of a wide, round bowl, backlit by stands of candles burning in tall, wrought-iron candlesticks. From the center of the fountain thrust a shape Erin first took for a stone obelisk. As they moved closer, she realized it was a sculpture of a woman’s arm, extending upward from the water, holding a white marble sword. Streams of water rolled down the length of blade and arm, as if they had just thrust from beneath the water.
“The Lady of the Lake?”
He shrugged. “I’ve got a soft spot for Arthurian legend.”
On the other side of the fountain, they found a white comforter spread out on the grass, light from the surrounding candles spilling in golden pools across its padded surface. A bottle of champagne cooled in a silver ice bucket beside it.
“I gather this is the reason for that call to your housekeeper,” Erin said.
He turned to face her. “A woman like you deserves moonlight and the smell of beeswax and roses.”
She cocked her head. “You going for romance or seduction?”
“A little of both.” Champion caught her chin in his hand and tilted it up as he lowered his head. “I didn’t want you in some impersonal hotel room. I wanted you here, like this.”
The moment his lips took hers, she realized he’d held back at the party. Champion kissed her with a starved intensity, using lips and tongue and teeth as if drinking life out of her mouth. He tasted of champagne and heated masculinity in a seductive combination that made her nipples tingle. A beat later his hands were on her, stroking gently at first, here the tip of a breast through her bodice, there the curve of her hip. When she moaned in surrender, he grew rougher by delicious degrees, cupping, squeezing, claiming her. All the while, he feasted at her mouth, his tongue dancing around hers, his teeth tugging gently on her lips.
Erin tore free to gasp in a breath. Her zipper whispered as he tugged it downward, the sound loud in the moonlit stillness. She started to reach for him, but he’d already caught the hem of her dress in both hands. He drew the skirt up until she felt the kiss of a cool breeze on the heated flesh of her butt. Then that same little gust teased her waist and breasts as he slowly bared them. She shuddered in need.
Finally Champion stepped back, her gown in his fist, his eyes drinking her in. She wore only a few bits of red lace and red spike-heeled Pradas, but he was still fully dressed in his elegant black tux. His green eyes looked pale and hungry in the moonlight as they explored every inch of her.
That look from any other man would have made Erin feel vulnerable and uncomfortable. But coming from Champion, it gave a sense of erotic power. She smiled, and suspected the expression had a taunting edge. “Like what you see?”
His mouth curled in that buccaneer smile. “Oh, yes.”
She looked like one of Reece’s more shameless midnight fantasies: miles of creamy leg sheathed in sheer stockings, a tiny triangle of a thong baring most of her lush hips, a red lace bra cupping the soft, full mounds of her breasts. The wind had pulled her hair from its neat French twist on the ride over, and long gold streamers curled around her shoulders. Her blue eyes shimmered at him, mysterious with that primal power women have. Her smiling mouth promised carnal pleasures.
Reece’s cock ached. He wanted to snatch her against his body, sate himself in long greedy swallows and deep lunging thrusts. Instead he put a stranglehold on greed and gave her a practiced smile. He was not, he reminded himself, a barbarian. Even when he felt like one. He would make love to her slowly, giving her all the sweet pleasure she deserved for her unwitting gift of blood.
“You do realize you’re overdressed.” With a roll of her hips, Erin moved toward him, slow and sexy, putting an edge on hunger that was already more than keen enough.
Reece didn’t dare move. He was too close to the edge of his control.
Smiling into his eyes, she reached up with long, slender fingers and plucked at his bow tie. He looked down to watch, but his eyes were caught by the delicate quiver of her pale, full breasts. Her nipples peaked, tempting shadows behind the lace cups of her bra.
Erin slid his jacket off his shoulders. He had to relax his bunched muscles so she could pull it away. His dove-gray vest went next, slowly, after she’d plucked each pearl button free. Reece clenched his fists and let his head fall back, determined to savor the feeling of those long, clever fingers moving over his body through the barrier of his shirt. Such sweet torture.
He managed to cling to his self-control through the removal of his shirt. But then a hot female mouth closed suddenly around his left nipple, and the tether he had on his lust snapped with a mental twang.
He had Erin down on the comforter without quite knowing how he’d gotten her there.
Reece heard her hot purring laugh of approval as he dragged down the scarlet cups that kept him from her breasts. Her nipples jutted for him, hard and flushed rose. With a soft growl, he pounced, sucking the peak into his mouth.
Distantly he felt the sting of her crimson nails digging into his biceps, the sharp heel of one of her Pradas riding his backside. He didn’t care, too swamped by the taste of her skin, the smell of her sexual cream, the pounding drum of her blood.
She was so damn ripe.
Erin gasped as Reece suckled the aching tip of one breast, his tongue rolling the little peak against the edge of his teeth, then drawing it hard into his mouth. A cataract of glittering sensation poured down her nerves with each silken pull. She writhed under him, but he held her effortlessly still in the brawny cage of his arms.
“God, Reece!” she groaned. He rumbled a hungry sound back at her, but didn’t release his drugging hold on her breast. One big hand moved up her body to claim her other breast, squeezing and stroking until she whimpered.
As if he’d been waiting for that soft signal, he wrapped his free hand in the fabric of her thong and ripped it away. She sucked in a breath, then released it in a strangled scream as his hand slid between her thighs.
Strong fingers probed her, slipping between her slick inner lips. Instinctively she grabbed the thick curve of his shoulders and held on tight. He delved into her slowly while he caressed and suckled, driving her into a fine erotic madness. She rolled her hips against his hand, tangling her fingers into his thick, curly hair and holding him close as he suckled her taut nipples.
Delicious as it was, though, it wasn’t enough. She craved his thrusts, hungered to feel him drive into her. The pressure of that need built and built until she moaned, “God, Reece—now!”
He lifted his head and looked down at her, his eyes burning. “Not yet,” he said hoarsely. “I want you hotter than this.”
She gasped out a strangled laugh. “I’m not sure I’d survive being hotter than this!”
“Let’s find out.” He pushed up onto his hands and knees and moved down her body to settle between her thighs. Catching her behind her knees, he lifted her legs and spread her wide.
Licking her dry lips, Erin propped herself up on her elbows to watch as Champion parted her lips with two fingers. He tilted his head, studying her wet flesh. “You’re so pretty here,” he said softly. He inhaled, his eyes closing slowly. She saw him swallow. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve had a woman like you.”
She laughed uncomfortably, instinctively rejecting the idea. It had far too much power. “That’s kind, Champion, but you’ve probably got women throwing themselves at you everywhere you go.”
His eyes opened as he looked up at her over the length of her naked body, his gaze going fierce and narrow. She realized he didn’t like having his word questioned. “Not like you.”
Eyes fixed on hers, he lowered his head. Erin found herself holding her breath.
The first pass of his tongue brought her arching off the comforter with a gasp. Over it, she could hear his groan of pleasure. As if the taste had snapped some fragile hold he’d had on control, he began devouring her, tonguing her creaming flesh, suckling her clit until she writhed. Desperate to give him everything, she lifted her legs, catching them behind the knee and spreading them wide. He growled a rough sound of approval and reached up around her body to find her breasts. As he licked, he squeezed and rolled her hard nipples, spurring her pleasure into a plunging gallop.
The climax took her by surprise. She gasped at the first explosion of searing delight, but it kept right on pulsing, consuming her entire nervous system with fire. Mindless, frenzied, she let go of her legs and threaded her fingers through his silken hair, holding on for dear life.
Reece savored Erin’s cry of pleasure as he lapped her cream like a greedy cat. The salty taste seemed to bypass his brain and wrap around his cock. The roots of his fangs throbbed.
When she finally went limp and stunned in the aftermath of orgasm, he rose to his knees and reached into his jacket, lying discarded by the quilt. He pulled out one of his condoms, tore the packet open with his teeth, and jerked the button of his fly open.
Freeing himself, he sheathed his aching erection with hands that shook. Magekind neither carried disease nor caught it, but he was damned if he’d expose her to his sperm. Though it never took less than three unprotected encounters to turn a Latent, it was always possible another vampire had left her Gift primed for somebody else’s climax. And having the little Latent go Maja under him was one surprise he really didn’t need.
She stirred, her eyes sliding reluctantly open. They widened deliciously at the sight of his condom-covered shaft jutting at her, hard and eager.
With a dark smile of anticipation, he mantled her soft, dazed body with his own.