I continued to struggle as he tasted the inside of my mouth with gentle, delicate licks. A moan rose from my throat, and even I could hear the longing in that sound. If I really wanted him to stop, all I had to do was close my mouth. Hell, a tough broad like me should feel no compunction about biting his tongue to give him the message. It wasn’t like his was a real body anyway.
That wasn’t what I did.
When Lugh’s tongue stroked mine, I felt like my body might melt with the pleasure of it. He tasted so damn good I thought I’d never get enough, a bouquet of flavors I’d never get tired of sampling. His lips were soft and moist, his body a reassuring cocoon of warmth surrounding me. I abandoned myself to his kiss, my tongue tangling with his, my teeth nibbling at his lips.
My brain took a vacation. I forgot all the hell that he’d brought into my life. I forgot the childhood trauma he’d just forced me to dredge up. I forgot that he’d driven my body while I was asleep, and seduced me for his own purposes. All I could think of was how my body burned for him. I drowned in the pleasure of his kiss, abandoning a part of myself in the process.
I don’t know how long it was before he broke the kiss. I think it was a long time. Although I couldn’t miss his massive erection with his leg over mine, he hadn’t even tried for second base, much less a home run—though I think I was far enough gone to let him do just about anything.
When he released me, my first reaction was a mew of protest. I was hot and wet and achy, and I wanted more.
He smiled gently at me. “Enough for now,” he murmured. “You would hate me if I took further advantage.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to assure him that I would do no such thing. I was ready to say whatever it would take to keep his lips on mine. But as he gave me space and freedom to move, my brain cells started firing again and I recoiled.
“You bastard!” I said, with more conviction than the last time.
He gave me a knowing look that reminded me how much I’d enjoyed that kiss, whether I’d wanted it or not.
“In the morning,” he said, “I’d like you to arrange to speak with Raphael. Whatever it is he’s hiding, it’s time for it to come out in the open.”
I let him distract me, because in truth I didn’t want to talk about—or think about—how very easily I could lose myself to him.
“For all I know, you could be calling him right this moment,” I muttered sourly.
“That would be difficult, as I don’t know his new host’s phone number. However, Andrew might have it on his cell phone.”
“Oh.”
“If there’s any chance you could let me do the talking…” He took one look at my face, then shrugged. “I know you’re still uncomfortable with the idea of ceding control to me, but—”
“Uncomfortable doesn’t begin to describe it!” I remembered Adam’s description of being dropped into an oubliette when his demon didn’t want to hear from him. Lugh was a nice guy—for a demon—but I knew if he had cause, he wouldn’t hesitate to do the same to me. Just one more reason why I could never again let him take control of me.
Lugh acted as if I hadn’t spoken. “But he’s more likely to talk to me than you.”
I remembered Andy’s description of the brothers’ relationship, and I doubted Lugh was right on that count. From what I knew of Raphael, he wasn’t likely to talk to either one of us.
“I’m not letting you take control,” I said. “You know that already, so don’t waste your breath arguing.”
Lugh shook his head, looking disappointed in me. “Don’t you think it would be better if you could let me take control sometimes? As long as you’re hosting me, you’ll be in danger. If Dougal’s minions attack you, wouldn’t you like to be able to let me take over and protect you?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Nice try, but I’m not buying. We’ve already established that I can find a way to let you in when there’s a dire emergency.” Such as having a mob of fanatics about to burn me at the stake. “That doesn’t mean I have to let you in for a freakin’ conversation.”
“Do you remember how hard it was for me to take over?” he asked. “Do you know how close you came to burning? If Raphael hadn’t goaded us both so much, it might not have happened. The next time you’re in danger, you might not have that long.”
And wasn’t that just a cheery thought!
He had a point, and I knew it. He could protect me in ways I could never do for myself. But the price was just too steep.
“You still don’t trust me,” Lugh said, sounding hurt.
Instinct told me to rush in with reassurances, to soothe the hurt in his voice. But even if he couldn’t read everything I felt, I would have squelched that instinct. He deserved honesty from me. He’d earned that, at least.
I met his gaze and raised my chin. “No, I don’t trust you. Not that much. I’m never going to trust you that much. I’m sorry.”
Something stirred in those dark amber eyes of his, but I couldn’t have said what. Hurt, anger, exasperation, cunning? A combination of all, or maybe none of the above.
“It saddens me to hear that,” he finally said.
I was still fumbling for the proper retort when the room faded to black and dreamless sleep overtook me.
CHAPTER 22
I woke up the next morning feeling exhausted, even though I’d slept till nearly eleven. Lugh had left me alone after our chat, and I’d gotten plenty of sleep. But the emotional baggage was taking its toll. Everything about me felt heavy, from my eyelids to my heart, and I wondered how much more of this I could take.
I spent what little remained of the morning chugging coffee. When I’d drunk more cups than I wanted to count, I felt tired and jittery at the same time. Not an improvement.
Still, if I waited until I felt great to get in touch with Raphael, I doubted I’d get it done in this lifetime. I scarfed down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in hopes that it might absorb some of the caffeine, then called Andy.
He was cool and aloof with me, still angry, but he checked his cell phone and was able to give me the number Raphael had called from. Naturally, I asked if he’d heard from his former demon again. He said no, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. It didn’t matter, because he was obviously anxious to get me off the phone, and I wasn’t up to a round of twenty questions.
The food didn’t seem to be helping the jitters, and I wished I’d shown a little more restraint when slurping cup after cup of coffee. I dialed the number Andy had given me. Of course I didn’t recognize the voice that answered.
“Raphael?” I asked.
“Ah, Morgan,” he said, confirming his identity. “So good to hear from you. Or am I speaking to Lugh, in which case it’s even better?”
“It’s Morgan, and I have some questions for you.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“How did Der Jäger get into Dr. Neely? And who’s hosting you now?”
Raphael hesitated. I figured he was trying to decide what he was willing to tell me—which would be only what he thought I could figure out for myself.
“I made the mistake of admitting to my supposed coconspirators that I was going to meet you as Dr. Neely,” he finally said. “The Powers That Be decided that was the perfect opportunity to get Der Jäger in past your defenses, so I moved into another host so that Der Jäger could have Neely.”
I shuddered. “Dr. Neely was a human being. You’re talking about him like he was a widget invented for your personal use. And why the hell did you let Der Jäger take him? Don’t you outrank these mysterious Powers That Be?”
“If I’d refused, I’d have had to say why. No one would have believed me if I’d claimed to be defending poor Dr. Neely’s rights. I did the best I could under the circumstances, which was to call and warn Andrew as soon as I had the privacy to do so.”
“Yeah, that was really nice of you. You’re a real prince.” I regretted the choice of words—because, of course, he was a real prince.