We were treading on dangerous territory. I wasn’t really prepared for this conversation about emotions and empty black holes with a man I couldn’t really have. It felt like trouble, and I already had enough of that to begin with. “Look, Declan, let’s just eat. It’s been a long day. Maybe tomorrow Dr. Reynolds will get back to us.”
“He will. I don’t doubt it. He’s a serious dick, but I really think he can help you. Then you won’t have to deal with all of this, deal with me, with horny assholes like Jackson sniffing around you. You can go back to your regular life and normal men who can be with you when they want to be.”
I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. It was currently clenched into a fist. “Normal guys are completely overrated, just so you know.”
His hand relaxed in my grip. “I’m about as abnormal as they get.”
“Feeling sorry for yourself tonight?”
He gave me a humorless smile. “That’s just the problem. I’m not feeling anything. And yet . . .”
“What?”
“The thought of you with Jackson . . . I wouldn’t call it jealousy, exactly. But it bothered me. I didn’t like it.”
That was interesting. Not jealousy, but something that triggered some sort of reaction in the emotion-free dhampyr.
I intertwined my fingers with his. “I’m not having a luxurious fast-food dinner like this with him, am I?”
“No.” He leaned back in his chair, pulling his hand away from mine. I tried not to take it personally. “He was right about one thing.”
“Which is?”
“That you’re a woman of passion. You deserve more than this.”
I glanced around the small room. “More than . . . burgers and fries at a seedy motel?”
“For starters.” He wasn’t smiling anymore. His jaw tightened. “You said something earlier. I think I want to take you up on it.”
“What’s that?”
“What you said about experimenting.”
I remembered exactly what I’d been talking about. “Declan—”
“No. Jill, don’t say anything.”
This was coming totally out of left field. I was ready to question him, but I couldn’t say anything because he stood up, pulled me against him . . . and kissed me.
I’d kissed him a couple of times since he’d been shot full of the permanent serum, searching for a response, and was disappointed when I didn’t get one. This time he’d initiated it; he was kissing me. And I was responding. Earlier I’d decided on a cool shower, but the heat of Declan’s kiss warmed me up immediately.
“Do you think . . . you can . . . ?” I whispered against his lips, not wanting to finish the sentence.
“This isn’t about me, Jill. This is about you. That is . . . if you want this to happen.” He held my face between his hands. “Say yes.”
“Yes,” I said, without thinking twice.
When he kissed me this time, he picked me up and carried me to the bed.
I locked my arms around his neck. “My hair’s wet.”
“Do you care?”
I grinned. “Not really.”
He placed me gently down on the bed and began kissing down my throat, filling his hands with my breasts. I could barely believe this was happening. A potential solution to my Nightshade troubles earlier. An experimental Declan now. This could all be a dream.
It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt real. And I didn’t want to question it a second longer.
Grasping the edge of my tank top, he pulled it up, skimming it over my skin. I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath, which saved some time. I gasped out loud as his mouth closed over my right nipple and he slid his tongue around it in a hot, wet circle.
He looked up at me. “Let me know if I’m doing this right.”
I struggled to breathe normally, but it came out like a needy moan. “So far, so good.”
He moved to the other side, making me shiver, goose bumps breaking out along my skin. I helped him to peel my top off over my head, then squeezed my eyes shut.
Experimenting with Declan was a very good idea. I was so very glad I’d thought of it.
When he kissed me again, sweeping his tongue against mine, I pulled at his black T-shirt, sliding my hands under to feel his skin beneath, down over his hard, rippled abdomen. I started to unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down, but he grasped my wrist to stop me.
“No, Jill.”
I looked up at him with surprise. “Why not?”
“I already told you, this isn’t about me.”
“I want to touch you.”
He pulled my hands away from him and raised them up above my head. “If you can’t play by the rules, then this game will have to end.”
He was easily strong enough to keep me pinned, but his grip on me was loose enough that I could have broken it if I wanted to. “I’m not sure I like those rules.”
He moved his mouth to my ear, and my bare breasts flattened against his T-shirt-covered chest. “I want to make you happy, Jill.”
I believed him. His expression held no fire to match what I was feeling, but rather, endless sincerity. He couldn’t make love to me, not completely—not the way I wanted—but he still wanted me to be happy after what he’d overheard Jackson say to me.
Jackson had offered me no-strings-attached sex.
I’d said no because I wasn’t attracted to him. I didn’t want a quick lay, and I didn’t want Jackson. I wanted more than that, even though I knew that wanting more would only leave me frustrated.
Declan wanted to take away some of that frustration. Here. Now.
Which meant my clothes came off. But his stayed on.
“I can stop.” His deep voice got raspy when he spoke quietly. “Or I can keep going. Your call.”
My throat felt thick. It was a mix of cool disappointment and hot desire. I could have Declan, but not all of him.
“Do you want me?” he asked when I didn’t answer right away.
I nodded wordlessly.
“Do you need me?”
“Yes.”
“Then keep your hands like this.” He pressed them up against the headboard, curling my fingers around the cool metal rails.
I drew in a breath. “So I can’t touch you at all?”
“Those are the rules.”
I gripped the headboard tighter. “Fine. Your move, dhampyr.”
A shadow of a smile played at his lips, and he sat back on his heels, his feet still clad in his heavy-laced boots, and slid the palms of his hands down the front of me between my breasts. His hands were calloused and rough against my skin—it made my nipples tighten and I shivered. I arched my back off the bed unconsciously to meet his touch.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
“So are you.”
He chuckled deep in his throat. “You’re lying. My scars—”
“Are part of you. And that makes them beautiful. I think we’ve had this conversation before.”
“Jill—”
“I wouldn’t be in a situation like this with somebody I found unappealing, Declan. Trust me on that. You make me so hot I can barely sit still.”
He leaned over, his mouth only an inch from mine. “How hot?”
I inhaled sharply as I felt his hand slide under the waistband of my leggings and down between my legs where he’d easily feel the proof of just how much I wanted him. My grip on the headboard tightened.
“You’re right,” he whispered. “Very hot.”
I gasped. “You’re teasing me now.”
“Maybe a little.” He hooked a finger in either side of the elastic waistband of the leggings and slid them down my legs until they were off. I lay naked on the bed, my arms still above my head, while Declan, fully dressed, swept his gaze over me.
I had to admit, me being naked and vulnerable at the moment and him being fully dressed and totally in control was hotter than I thought it would be.