Briana had turned and twined her arms around his neck, fitting her body snuggly into his. “Dance with me.”
“I need to get you out of here.” He vaguely recalled that was part of the plan. However, leaving would mean sacrificing the feel of her molded so perfectly to him.
Briana smiled, slow and sexy, and shook her head. “We should stay. Dance.” She went up on her tiptoes and her cheek grazed his.
“There’s no music playing.”
Her fingers raked the ends of his hair, and he damn well knew that wasn’t part of the plan.
“We don’t need music for the kind of dancing I have in mind.”
The air around him grew thicker, hotter. If his clothes felt uncomfortable before, now they rubbed his skin like sandpaper.
“This way.” Grinning, she laced her fingers through his, tugging him away from the stripping masses. More than once they had to step over people already on the floor, tearing at each other’s clothes.
Mac?
Lucan watched his friend disappear down the corridor ahead of them and guided Briana in the same direction. With every step the drugging sensation of magic turned his thoughts a little fuzzier.
He glanced down at their linked hands, keenly aware of how soft and small her fingers felt intertwined with his own. He tightened his grip, and felt his chest expand when she squeezed back.
They hadn’t been this close in centuries. Everything since then had changed—except the way he felt about her. The girl she’d been had teased without malice, explored without fear, shared without expecting anything in return.
But the woman…she tested boundaries, laughed without restraint, loved fiercely.
And he couldn’t figure out how he’d made it through the centuries without her.
“Luc?”
Stepping into the pool of florescent light beyond the Employees Only sign, he paused long enough to look at Briana—and stopped in his tracks.
Forget Tristan and Mac. Forget the whole damn club.
Nothing was as important as being with her. Only the certainty they’d find a room along the corridor ahead stopped him from pressing her against the wall and seeing if her mouth tasted like peaches. The sweet scent had been driving him crazy since they’d left Tristan behind—
Fuck.
He closed his eyes. There wouldn’t be any tasting of anything. He’d promised she’d be safe with him. Betraying Tristan’s trust after all they’d been through was unthinkable.
After what he’d done, he’d have to be out of his mind to sabotage the very weak truce with the Callaghan brothers by giving into his attraction to a woman he would only hurt.
He needed to get Briana outside. Now.
In front of the last door before the exit, she stopped him. “Lucan?”
Would the sound of his name on her lips forever be a silken sweep of breath across the back of his neck? Getting space between them seemed the only sensible move, but everything about retreating from her felt…wrong.
She didn’t give him a choice. “Wait.” She hooked a finger in the waistband of his cargo pants and tugged.
His knees bumped hers and he flattened his hand against the door beside her head. It bought him just a couple of inches—not nearly enough with her body so warm and welcoming.
She trailed a hand up his chest, the path of her fingers sinking into the shirt he half wanted her to tear off him.
No, he corrected a second later, there was no half about it.
Alone with her for only two minutes and he’d never been so tempted to go back on his word. He’d sworn to keep her safe, but even he knew that sheltering her with his body didn’t count as keeping his vow.
Sweet Avalon, he was in trouble.
“Touch me.” Briana caught his hand, placing it over her heart, and the strong, steady beat slowed the wild drumming of his. “Now lower.”
His eyes snapped to hers.
“Don’t make me beg, Luc.” She whispered the words against his lips, bringing with it that tantalizing peach scent.
“We can’t.”
“Says who? You want to. You’ve always wanted to.” It was spoken with such confidence he was sure she must have read his mind countless times.
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Like it wasn’t a good idea at the festival?” The innocent question was a million miles from the seductive way she teased her thumb between her breasts, silently urging him to follow the same path.
He thought about lying, or pretending he didn’t remember the night he’d been so blindsided by his attraction and kissed her. And he hadn’t stopped there. Wouldn’t have stopped until she was locked beneath him, her nails raking his back and his cock deep inside her, night after night, if he hadn’t remembered he didn’t have the luxury of pursuing her.
And in all the years since, nothing had changed.
“I could have hated you for abandoning me.” She pressed her lips to his jaw, apparently recalling that night as clearly as he did.
“You should have.” He’d certainly hated himself for it. Maybe if she had, he wouldn’t crave her touch until it was a hunger that gnawed at him relentlessly.
“Tried. Tried for a long time. Didn’t take. Doesn’t matter now.”
“Briana—”
She bit down on his lower lip, letting him know her cat was playing with him. “Kiss me, Luc. I’ll go crazy if I have to spend another moment trying to remember what it feels like.”
His blood turned molten in his veins. He opened his mouth, but whatever half-hearted objection might have been perched on the tip of his tongue disintegrated the second her stunning blue eyes met his.
So beautiful. He cupped her cheek, his thumb gliding across skin so soft he could spend years learning every inch of her.
Kiss me.
Her words ricocheted around his head, slicing clean through the last of his restraint. He could barely remember why he was fighting the urge to take whatever she was willing to give him.
Hadn’t he waited long enough? Denied himself even the most innocent touch when every part of him wanted her exactly where she was—in his arms?
“Please—”
He opened his mouth over hers, and the first touch of her lips—soft and scorching—burned through him hotter and brighter than a flare. The heat seared all the way down to the bone as he dragged her into a kiss much faster and harder than he planned. Slowing down briefly crossed his mind, until she gripped his shirt and moaned.
Silky strands of her hair caressed the back of the hand he hooked around her nape. Every bold sweep of her tongue against his jerked at the chain keeping his darkest hungers staked deep within.
He pressed her harder against the door, skimmed his hands up her sides, then slipped them beneath her shirt. Gods, he needed to touch her. Touch all of her. She shivered, and he broke from her lips to explore the slender curve of her neck.
A couple stumbled into the end of the hallway but never made it any further. Not when the woman was pushed up against the wall, the Fae’s hand between her legs, pushing her skirt up.
Lucan twisted the door knob, wanting to have Briana alone. The door gave way only a couple of feet, and then slammed shut. But not before he got a glimpse of the guy inside.
Mac?
“Get your own damn room,” a woman snapped through the door.
“Nessa?” Briana laughed, then didn’t give either of them a second to contemplate what was happening on the other side of the door. “Come on.”
She shoved the steel exit door open hard enough to slam it against the back alley’s brick wall. The damp night air rushed over his skin, but did nothing to cool the fever raging inside him.
A fever that burned hotter when she threw him a tempting look over her shoulder.