Читать книгу Death Calls - Caridad Pineiro - Страница 6

She was finally home.

Elation swept through Ryder as he stood on her fire escape. He waited at her window needing to see her. All he could think about was her, about being with her again—in spite of the withdrawal and anger he sensed from her. Those emotions screamed for his acknowledgment. She was angry because he was visiting. Uninvited.

From her bedroom door, she headed straight for the window, as if aware he was there.

Slipping over the edge of the fire escape, he plummeted a few stories before grabbing the railing to break his fall. It jangled loudly as it bore the brunt of his weight. He quickly eased closer to the building and its shadows so he would be hidden. He soon heard the grate of the lock, the slight groan of recalcitrant metal as she opened the window. Then he smelled her. He breathed in deeply, trapping her essence within him. It was food for his senses, instantly bringing his body to painful life.

Not for the first time, he conceded that he liked certain abilities given to him by his vampirism. The ones that let him smell her and see her and, lately, reach into her mind to share his thoughts. She had allowed that new gift, although he knew she was uncomfortable with the invasion. She was, after all, a woman used to being in total control.

Was that why she was running from him?

He climbed onto the railing and, bunching the muscles of his legs, leaped up three stories to her window. He landed nearly silently and smiled to himself, pleased with how his skills were improving.

Now, he intended to make his presence known.

Ryder was here.

Damn him. It was bad enough he haunted her every thought and made her need him in ways she didn’t want to need anyone. It was even worse that he refused to honor her one simple request for a night away from him. A night to try to forget what he made her feel so she could gain some peace of mind, if only for a moment.

You can never forget me, she heard inside her head.

Really? And could you forget me? she questioned angrily.

Never.

Maybe a little mental and physical anguish of his own would drive the point home: their relationship had taken a wrong turn. The reality she had confronted earlier—that she wanted a normal life—was impossible if she continued on this path. Ryder could never give her that kind of existence.

She faced the window and yanked off her suit jacket. Beneath the jacket, her holster securely cradled her Glock. She slipped it off, checked to make sure the safety was on and tucked the holster and gun into the drawer of her bedside table.

A gun would be no protection against Ryder. Especially when she hadn’t loaded it with the special silver bullets she’d had made for when she went out on a vampire-related problem.

Do you really think you need to protect yourself against me?

No, but you might need to protect yourself, querido.

His uneasy chuckle carried through the open window of her bedroom.

Your amusement will stop soon enough.

Silence followed her threat.

Diana began to disrobe, a slow striptease as she slipped free each button of her serviceable white shirt, revealing the lacy white bra beneath. She toed off her ankle-high boots, and kicked aside her pants. Do you like what you see?

A strangled laugh was his answer, coupled with, I haven’t seen enough to make up my mind.

She smiled. There was something…exciting about mentally seducing a vampire who was hidden in shadow.

She had experienced this kind of nasty excitement after her father’s death. The rush of losing all restraint. The surrender to doing whatever you wanted, even though you knew it was wrong. Her reckless nature had embraced the uncivilized, the raw need that had never really surrendered to her control.

As for her earlier decision not to see Ryder…It fled in the wake of her rising desire.

Diana shrugged her shoulders and her blouse dropped to the floor. Reaching up, she undid the front clasp of her bra.

His rough groan caressed her psyche. And then a shadow shifted on the fire escape. Ryder’s shadow.

Staring straight at him, she parted the bra and let it fall. She stood there, expectant. Her pulse racing.

Her earlier thoughts about needing something more normal—more controlled—reared up, telling her that she should ask him to leave. She had proved her point, reminding him that she had power, but her determination failed her.

I want you to touch me, she told him.

But he stayed on the fire escape, exerting a self-control she couldn’t muster.

Closing her eyes to block out the sight of his silhouette, she cupped her breasts and ran her thumbs across her nipples. Her body grew damp and tense with rising need. With want of his hands and mouth and…his bite.

Dios, but she couldn’t forget how the demon made her feel.

Ryder.

A thud forced her eyes open. He stood by the window, dressed in black, breathing roughly, fists balled at his sides. His nearly black hair, long and tousled, hung to his shoulders. The goatee surrounding his mouth…

She imagined how that would feel on her skin and then had little time to wait as he stalked over, dropped to his knees and took one aching nipple into his mouth.

She moaned and dug her hands into the waves of his thick hair.

“I’ll take it that you like that.” Despite his chuckle, a hard edge marked his voice.

As conflicted as she might be about their future, it was impossible to deny that, at least right now, she wanted him, no matter what. No matter that by the wanting, she lost a piece of herself.

The inky locks of his hair were a shock of darkness against the pale creaminess of his skin and her own olive coloring. The contrast made her ache inside as her excitement escalated. Whenever he was near, her senses were on overload, with everything more clear and alive. More demanding.

“I want you.” His brown-eyed gaze was so intense it made her insides quiver.

“As much as I want you—”

“You’ve been doubting the wisdom of this. I know. I felt it…. You didn’t want me here tonight, did you?”

“No.” But she raked her hands through his hair, the silk of the longer strands alive in her hands. He had let it grow since she had first met him.

“I know it scares you—the need. But don’t you think I need you as badly? Or can’t vampires need?” He once again tortured her by running the soft bristle of his beard across her nipples. But that wasn’t her undoing. It was the confusion and pain that laced his words. Confusion much like she was feeling. Pain so deep her heart faltered from it.

“I care for you, only…Foley says that each bite—”

“I won’t bite again,” he said. Not unless you ask me to.

“I won’t ask again. I can’t lose myself like this. I can’t stay with—”

“Don’t push me away, darlin’. I know you’re scared, but I am, too. In all my life, you’re the only woman I’ve ever…”

Ryder didn’t finish. Instead he buried his head against her midsection and wrapped his arms tight around her like a supplicant embracing his reason for being. Then he shocked her by kissing the scar along her ribs—a product of the drive-by shooting that had killed her father.

Diana closed her eyes against the sudden threat of tears and the constriction that closed her throat. She cradled his head and stroked his hair, trying to ease his pain. Trying to curb her own.

She might tell herself that she was afraid of what was happening with them. Of how he invaded her senses and her mind. She might even delude herself into believing that she could make love to him tonight or any other night and walk away whenever she wanted. But in her heart, she suspected that what she felt for him she would never feel for anyone else.

She wasn’t sure she could live with that, but she couldn’t deny him, either.

She made the next move. She parted the fine black linen to reveal his chest. Nothing marred the pale expanse of his skin. If anything, his muscles were more defined than when they’d first met. His body leaner, more…powerful. The energy seemed to pour off him, calling to her.

She laid her hand above his heart. It beat fast and a little erratic. She wanted to believe its hurried rhythm came from her touch.

“I don’t regret…us,” she whispered. Funny, but it was the truth despite her doubts. He was her damnation and her salvation.

“Let’s not talk about this now. The night is short and…I don’t want to spend it…”

Burying her head against his chest, she wrapped her arms around him. Her embrace shook loose something inside of him.

He needed to make it impossible for her to deny that this was real, no matter how many doubts both of them now seemed to be having.

It was sweet torture, the feel of her breasts skimming his chest. Her warmth slowly worked its way into the cold of his body. The heat of her passion drove the chill from his skin.

She tugged him toward her bed. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

She wore her false bravado face. Funny how he could recognize it so easily. Funny how he wanted to drive the fear from her until she truly welcomed him into her bed. Invited him into her heart.

“Can you deny it’s what you want, as well?” he said.

She couldn’t lie to herself. She needed more of him. She always needed more even if she refused to give a name to that desire. Even as she wondered if it was a result of some vampire head game, much as Foley had suggested.

Ask me to touch you, he said.

Why?

His demanding reply came swiftly. Because I need you to want me as much as I want you.

“Dios, Ryder. I need you.”

Slowly, way too slowly, he lowered his hand until it rested on top of the nest of curls between her legs. She pressed her hips up, urging him on. He breached the edge of her panties and unerringly found her center.

Beneath his fingers, Ryder experienced the pull of her. The scent of her arousal perfumed the air, so strong that the vampire within begged for a taste. He had lost the battle last time. He wouldn’t allow it to happen tonight. If the animal came…she might hate him—or herself—for surrendering to the demon.

He dropped a trail of kisses along her body. She opened her legs, knowing his intent and welcoming it. He slipped between her legs, brought his mouth to her sensitive nub.

Her hips arched in acceptance.

Her wetness—slick against him—and the smell of her…the heat…He groaned and she held his head to her.

He lost the battle.

The change surged over him. It was almost too much. The smell of their sexual musk. Her racing pulse reverberating in his ears. Her nether lips, wet and flush with blood. The demon imagined feeding there, at her most private of places.

He gasped at the roiling passion making his loins ache and looked up at her with his vampire face. Fangs exposed. Eyes glowing. Skin flushed and warm.

Diana stared at him. His arms were braced at her sides, shaking. Shoulders heaving from the force of his breaths. His rough, harsh pants reminded her of a lion at a zoo, caged. The human in him was barely keeping the animal behind bars.

In her mind, suddenly, she saw herself as he did. Her breathing. Sharp little pants. His teeth, sinking into her swollen flesh. Blood, rich with life. Passion. Flowing through both of them. Charging them. Her strangled cry of pain followed by pleasure that would rob her of herself.

She nearly climaxed from the images. The vampire in Ryder wanted her to desire his bite, so he could do as he wished. So he could control her as Foley had warned.

She shook away those thoughts and with years of self-defense skills, reversed their positions. She drove down onto him before he could continue messing with her mind. With her heart. Riding him to slake the burn, to draw out the human, to make him Ryder again and not the beast.

As she locked her gaze with his and moved on him, the demon fled. Ryder’s eyes became their intense dark brown once more, losing their demony glow. Only his fangs remained, as if he couldn’t muster that last little bit of command.

“I won’t bite again,” Ryder promised.

Long minutes passed before she finally answered, “I know.”

Without waiting for more assurance he flexed his hips and shifted upward, bringing her to the edge.

She followed his growl of release with her own cry of completion. After he cradled her in his arms. But earlier conflicts and fears rose up faster than the passion that had overwhelmed them.

When she had first met Ryder, she had sensed that he was a loner. A man who had suffered great loss and somehow endured. She understood such loss and the strength it took to overcome it. Like Ryder, she carried scars within her that hadn’t healed.

Back then she’d thought that two injured people didn’t bode well for a happy ending. And now, after tonight, she realized that continuing her life with Ryder…

“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

A tremor ripped through his body again. He snatched up the clothes strewn across the floor and dressed, his movements stiff. Irate.

“Ryder?” She heard fear and indecision in her own voice. And an indefinable something…caring, possibly love. She was too confused to know anymore.

He didn’t answer. So she provided her own.

“I need some time.”

A barely perceptible nod of his head acknowledged her request before he returned to her open window and fled into the night.