Something Secret This Way Comes

He rolled his eyes before he picked up the phone next to him and pushed a large red button. The name on his tag said Melvin, and I planned to remember it. Just like I knew he’d remember mine after tonight.



“There is a woman here claiming she’s here to see Mr. Rain. She says her name is Secret McQueen, and—” He listened for a beat and then all the color seeped from his face. “Yes, Mr. Alvarez. My sincerest apologies. Yes, I will be certain everyone at the desk is made aware of that.” He hung up the phone and angled his head in my direction in a sort of half bow. “Miss McQueen, I apologize for my rudeness. You must understand a great number of women attempt to visit with Mr. Rain without his invitation.”



“You’re just doing your job, Melvin. I’m sure this will never happen again.”



“No. Absolutely not.” He slid a black card across the desk to me. “This is an elevator-access pass. Mr. Alvarez is on his way down to meet you, and he will help you program a code so you can reach the penthouse directly.”



I wasn’t sure who Mr. Alvarez was, but I took the card from Melvin’s trembling hand. “Thanks.”



The elevator dinged behind me, and I turned to see Desmond exit through the doors. He was wearing a soft gray sweater and some very well-fitting khaki trousers. His dark hair was a tousled mess, and he did not look pleased to be in the hotel lobby at nine in the evening on a Thursday. Especially not with me.



“Secret,” he said with a nod. So we were on a first-name basis, then.



“Desmond.”



“I trust Melvin gave you an access card?”



“He did.”



“And I trust he has made his apologies?” He shot a meaningful look to the man at the counter. Melvin cowered and I couldn’t blame him. Desmond was an intimidating force, even with bedhead.



“Yes, he did.”



“Good. Follow me.”



In the elevator he swiped my card and had me enter a four-digit code of my choice. He explained the card was now mine to keep and would grant me direct access to the penthouse floors. I knew he wasn’t thrilled about this, because he also added that my card and code could be canceled at any time.



In the quiet that followed, there was an unmistakable change in the atmosphere of the elevator. Not to say he became more relaxed, or I less wary, but the sensation of unfamiliar tang bursting in my mouth had returned. At first I thought it was because we were getting closer to Lucas, but then it dawned on me that this flavor was altogether different. Instead of the heady cinnamon taste Lucas left in my mouth, I now experienced something brighter, more citrusy.



Lime. It was the puckering flavor of limes, and the only place it could be coming from was Desmond. I didn’t know what to make of it and didn’t know how to ask him what it meant, so instead I changed the subject. “What kind of were is the desk clerk?”



“Ah, you smelled him.” This seemed to put him in a better mood. “Melvin is a wereferret.”



I let out a loud, short cough of a laugh. “He’s a werret!”



Desmond found this at least passingly funny, because he chuckled, a low, pleasant sound. “Yes, I suppose that would be one way to put it.”



We arrived at the penthouse more relaxed than we’d been on the main floor.



“He’s expecting you.” Desmond nodded to the spiral staircase. He gave me a gentle nudge, and I couldn’t help but notice how his hand lingered on my back a little longer than was necessary. I turned to see if there was any explanation on his face, but he was already walking away.



The subtle burst of lime diminished with his every step.



Was this a werewolf thing, leaving tastes in each other’s mouths? No, that was impossible. I’d been around other weres and never tasted a single one before Lucas passed me on the street last night.



It was more than a little disconcerting. Lucas had told me it was an indication of the soul-bond I shared with him, so why could I taste Desmond? Surely it wasn’t possible to be soul-bonded to two people. And why did I suddenly want a margarita?



It seemed like every moment spent with Lucas and the wolves was going to present me with a dozen new questions.



Chapter Fifteen



I found Lucas in the same place I’d left him the night before. Now, instead of bare feet and jeans, he wore the most exquisitely tailored pair of gray trousers, the same color as the sweater Desmond was wearing. I stopped to admire the way they hugged his bottom. I wanted to shake the hand of the tailor who made pants for the men of this pack. Had I been a were-feline of some variety, I would have purred. As it was I let out a fluttery sigh.



He turned to look at me with a bright, toothy smile. He had on a long-sleeved black shirt with a slight V-neck that gave me a teasing glance of his smooth chest.



“I thought you might not come.”



“Well, I figured I’d see what you’re like when you’re not kidnapping me.” I couldn’t help but smile back. “Um.” I looked over my shoulder, worried Desmond might suddenly appear behind me, which he did not. “Why does Desmond taste like spring break?”



From his place next to the massive fireplace, Lucas’s brows knit together, but his reaction was slow and the shock seemed forced. Interesting.



“You can taste Desmond? The way you taste me?”



“Yes. Only you taste like Christmas. Cinnamon. Desmond tastes like lime.” I licked the back of my teeth, chasing the lingering flavor.



Lucas furrowed his brow. “How peculiar.”



Something about the way he said it further proved to me he wasn’t all that surprised by my revelation.



“What does it mean?”



His face relaxed and he waved a hand in the air as if swatting my question away.



“It’s irrelevant. Just a quirk, nothing to be concerned about.” He stepped away from the fire and came to stand in front of me. He put his large hands on my waist, and I allowed him to do it. It didn’t escape my attention that he was hiding something, but I also didn’t think the situation with Desmond warranted over-thinking at the moment.



“You look lovely.” He was all smiles once again.



“So do you.” The taste of Desmond was gone, and now I felt as if I’d been sucking on cinnamon hearts. I wondered if being around Lucas would give me fresher breath.



I also wondered, if I kissed him would I find out what I tasted like to him? Could I lap up my own flavor by tracing my tongue over his? Before I finished thinking it, I rose on my tiptoes and closed the gap between us. I hadn’t been consciously aware I’d made the decision to kiss him, but suddenly his lips were against mine.



He must have been surprised by the abruptness of my action, because for a second he hesitated.



I began to pull away, my cheeks flushing red as I muttered, “Sor—”



I didn’t get a chance to say more than the first syllable before he drew me back into a tight embrace, holding me fast. I was literally swept off my feet as he kissed me—he was so tall my toes weren’t even touching the hardwood. If I’d been human, the force of his grip would have threatened to squeeze the air out of my lungs.



But I was not that fragile, so I draped my arms over his shoulders and parted my lips to answer the imploring request of his tongue.



His hands slid lower, cupping my ass and lifting me fully off the ground. I responded with uncharacteristic eagerness by snaking my legs around his torso. The kiss deepened. His mouth slanted over mine and his tongue brushed along my own, the hypersensitivity making my head swim. He moved his hands, squeezing my thighs firmly, and my flurry of demanding kisses pleaded for him to continue. The inside of his mouth tasted sugared, the sweetness of something like cotton candy or toasted marshmallow. That something was me.



A coiled tightness stirred in the pit of my stomach like stiff fingers coming out of a fist. It twisted, unfurled and grew larger. Liquid heat spread through my body, starting in my guts and filling me until it prickled along every inch of my skin and threatened to spill over. I moaned into his open mouth.



Lucas’s skin under my hands and against my body grew equally hot. Everywhere there was skin-to-skin contact I was sure we must be burning each other. He growled, but it had nothing to do with fear.



Where my legs were wrapped around him, even through layers of clothing, I could tell he was prepared to take this much further. It made me wonder what the heat of him would feel like inside me.



Gasping for air, I ripped away from the kiss, my palms pressed against his chest. My legs were locked around his waist, and I was so shaky I let him hold me there. I took deep, ragged breaths, unable to meet his eyes. He hadn’t given up on his pursuit of pleasure, and his mouth was against my neck, kissing, licking… I pulled him closer, and we almost fell back into our heated embrace when his teeth grazed my neck and closed down on the tender skin.



My pulse raced and I could feel a familiar elongating and sharpening of my fangs. My vampire side was wide awake tonight, and we were on the verge of bringing it out into the world. His jaws tightened just a little. I made a small animal noise and abruptly came back to my senses.



“Stop.” There was no hesitation or uncertainty in my voice. My eyes were on his neck, and it wasn’t sex at the forefront of my mind. That is until I saw the big bed and realized that my libido was not as willing to stop as my common sense. My urges were divided between devouring him and letting myself be consumed in other ways.



He responded immediately to the command, releasing my neck and lowering me to the floor, where I staggered.



“Wow,” I said once I’d caught my breath and my fangs had retracted. “Just…wow.”



He licked his lips, and I noticed his eyes were no longer solid blue. The ring of gold around his pupil had doubled in size, and they did not look human. “That was unexpected,” he said, his voice husky.



As the wolf inside me returned to her dormant state, my skin cooled to its normal temperature. The flush in his coloring faded as well. Never before had both of the monsters inside me woken at the same time. The wolf had wanted to mate, the vampire had wanted to feed, and both desires had felt like one and the same.