Night Sins, Page 7

  It was her turn to cut him off. Kayla kissed him again, inhaling his spicy male scent, so deliciously enticing. “If you know what I need,” she whispered against his lips, “why are we still standing on the stairs?”

  Ethan didn’t argue, lifting her in his arms. She took his cue, wrapping her legs around his waist, letting him carry her up the stairs, eager for what came next.

  At the edge of the living room, he paused, and she answered his silent question. “To the right, down the hall.”

  Inside her bedroom, her curtains were open, moonlight spilling into the room in a silvery gray stream. Ethan set her on her feet beside the bed and their eyes held and locked. Together they undressed, no questions, no resistance. They both knew what they wanted, what they had wanted for far too long.

  When clothes were no longer an obstacle, they faced one another again. Kayla reveled in the perfection of his body. Glorious from head to toe, he was all sinewy muscle, powerful and strong. Her gaze drifted from his broad chest to his flat, rippling abdominals to the hard length of his aroused cock. She would have reached out, would have wrapped her hand around the width, but Ethan took action first.

  The next thing she knew, she was flat on the bed, Ethan on top of her, his shaft settling between her legs with delicious promise of what was to come next. And he was kissing her, kissing her with such passion, such intensity, she thought she would go up in flames. This was what she’d waited for, what she had fantasized about many a time.

  Desperate for more of him, Kayla wrapped one leg around his calf, arching upwards, sliding her aching core along his long, hard length. Her hands went to his face, feeling the stubble of his jaw on her sensitive skin, amazed at how arousing it was, how something so little could be so sensual and sexy with Ethan.

  “I want you inside me, Ethan,” she whispered hoarsely. “Like I’ve wanted that for a lifetime.”

  Ethan responded by lifting himself up on one arm and looking down at her, his lids heavy, eyes dilated with passion. Suddenly his mood seemed to shift, to darken. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, making a frustrated sound. The next thing she knew he was on his back, arm over his face.

  “What is it?” she asked, confused and lost by the sudden change. “Ethan—what is it?”

  He inhaled and let it out before turning to his side to face her, his weight on one elbow. “Your mother was a Watcher. What about your father?”

  She shook her head. “What?” she asked. “My father? Men aren’t Watchers. He was human.”

  “Are you sure?” he questioned. He hesitated, then asked, “Could he have been a vampire?”

  No. Why would he say such a thing? Her throat went dry, her heart beating at double time. The implications of what he suggested could make her an outcast in her world. It would certainly strip her of her post.

  Ethan didn’t say things without reason, which made his question all the more disturbing. “You think he was a vampire?”

  He gave a short nod. “I believe you have vampire in your bloodline, and it makes sense that it was your father.”

  “Because I drank your blood and it made me stronger,” she stated, assuming that was where he’d drawn his conclusion. Surely, her mother would have told her such a thing. Wouldn’t she have? Yes. Of course. “I would know.”

  “It’s more than that.” He ran his hand down her hair, moving closer again. “From the moment we met, we were drawn to each other.”

  “That means nothing,” she said, rejecting that as a reason to claim a vampire in her lineage.

  “Tonight in that club, you were on fire,” he explained. “You know why?” He let the question linger in the air for several seconds, clearly not expecting her to answer. “You were on fire because my mating instincts were on fire as well. There is only one mate for a vampire, little one, and some never find that person. Tonight I confirmed what I’ve suspected a long time now. Tonight everything inside me said that mate for me is you. I know it sounds impossible. I refused to believe it myself. But any doubt I had disappeared when I tasted your blood on my tongue.”

  She shook her head. “That can’t be.” Kayla sat up and moved away from him, back against the headboard, knees to her chest. “I . . . no. This can’t be.” A thought occurred to her and she stiffened. “Oh God. We drank from each other. Does that mean . . . is that . . . are we . . . ?”

  He came to her then, his hands going to her cheeks. “I would never bind you to me without your consent.”

  She knew that. She did. And it comforted her to realize that. “How does a vampire mate?”

  “Three blood exchanges must take place. The third must be done while making love.”

  Kayla digested his words, thankful that nothing could happen she didn’t control. He kissed her forehead, a tender act she felt from head to toe. Then, he moved away, leaving her feeling empty and alone. He said nothing more as he pushed to his feet and reached for his pants.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, unable to stop herself, though, Lord only knew, she tried.

  He glanced over his shoulder before turning to face her. “I can see you need some time to process all of this and I’m going to give it to you.” A muscle in his jaw tensed. “I’m asking nothing of you, Kayla. I simply thought you have the right to know what I believe to be the truth. This is our secret.” He grabbed his shirt and shoved his arms into it, leaving the buttons untouched. “I’m headed out of town anyway. I need to see my king. It would be best to tell him about Rigo in person.”

  Her stomach twisted in knots. She should be glad he was leaving but she wasn’t. She should be glad he wasn’t pushing this mating thing. Yet, again, she wasn’t. “I thought you were staying here to fight the Brothers?”

  “Oh, I’ll be back before the Brothers have time to regroup, you can count on that. I won’t leave you to deal with them alone. A mate protects his woman.”

  The prospect of his return brought relief that lasted all of a second. Her tempter flared at his possessive macho attitude. None of this changed anything about her world or her life. “Damn it, Ethan,” she spat, glaring at him. “I am a Watcher, as much a warrior as you. I don’t need protecting.”

  She crawled across the bed to the edge of the mattress and stood up, facing him, intent on getting dressed. But the instant she was within arm’s reach, Ethan pulled her close, his warm body enclosing hers, creating a rush of red-hot desire.

  “You argue about not needing protection,” he said, “but say nothing of my claim that we are mates.”

  She settled her hands on his chest, the familiar banter of their relationship offering her comfort. “Because it’s a crazy notion not worth arguing about. And stop twisting my words. You’re infuriating.”

  “So you’ve told me often,” he said, his hand sliding over her bare ass, molding her to his hips.

  He was hard again, just as she was wet. There was no question they turned each other on. No amount of ice she tried to create survived the fire.

  “We might be forced to deny our bond, but I will be close by, looking after you. I have since the day you arrived in this city and I don’t plan to stop now.”

  Arguing was no use and she knew it. She also knew it was well past time she took control again. Kayla slid his shirt off his shoulders. “You talk too much,” she said. “If you really want to take care of me, then shut up and fuck me.”

  His lips lingered above hers, teasing and tempting. “I won’t fuck you, little one. But I will make love to you.”

  Hmmm. She liked that. Actually, both options sounded rather enticing. “Would you consider doing both?” she asked, her hand sliding to the front of his pants, tracing the ridge of his erection.

  “Perhaps,” he said. “After I’ve made love to you three or four times we can discuss other diversions.”

  She smiled, shoving his pants down his hips. “Promises, promises.”

  A moment later, she lay on her back, his weight on top of her, his kiss more passionate than any kis
s she’d ever known. And when he slid his hard length inside her, he filled her with more than satisfaction. He filled her with certainty.

  Kayla knew in that moment that whatever the future might hold for her, Ethan would be there. And, as always, he would be her biggest secret.

  Once a delicious temptation, he would be an indulgence she could never turn away.

  Don’t miss Lisa Renee Jones’s sexy shifter romance,

  Amber Fire, available now!

  Broad and all-powerful, a man who knows how to thrive

  in the wild—and bring to the edge of ecstasy the woman

  he claims as his own . . .

  Determined to defend her late father’s work, Amber Green

  heads into the heat of the Nevada canyons to prove the exis-

  tence of the Yaguara, a shape-shifting race of jaguars. There

  she meets the one man more hell-bent on protecting the

  jaguars than she is: Jareth, a force of raw male nature to be

  reckoned with—an animal worth pursuing . . .

  Turn the page for a peek . . .

  1

  The thrill of discovery danced along Amber Green’s nerve endings and sent a rush of anticipation through her veins, pressing her to work past the last scorching burn of the Nevada sun before it slid behind the nearby mountain peaks, a part of the Grand Canyon gateway. A hum of silent energy radiated among the thirty-plus men and women in her excavation crew, all hurriedly clearing dust from a portion of the mile-long wall etched with ancient Mayan drawings. She could feel the same certainty and nervous energy in them that she felt. This was it. What they’d been looking for. What she’d sought in her father’s place since he’d been brutally murdered by thieves a year before at a Mexico dig site. Exactly why she’d left a three-year tenure at a Houston museum and wrangled his research grant, with his detailed journals as her guide. She was not only going to find proof that the fabled Yaguara, a shape-shifting race of jaguars, truly existed. If her father was right, she would also find evidence left by the shaman who’d created Yaguara; he had fled Mexico and hidden the secrets to Yaguara’s creation, and the way to its destruction, inside this cavern. And Amber yearned for that discovery more than she did her next breath. To honor her father.

  Abruptly, all that anticipation curling inside Amber jackknifed, as a not-so-distant female scream pierced the air, the fear in its depths twisting a knot in Amber’s stomach. Three nights of no sleep, of an unexplainable sense of being hunted, stalked even, rushed back over her, pushed aside before now with the new day’s discovery. Tossing aside the brush in her hand, Amber grabbed the tranquilizer rifle leaning against the wall, and started to run toward the scream, but as quickly as she’d launched into action, she froze as she brought an unexpected, unbelievable source of danger into view.

  “Jaguars,” she whispered, blinking with the impossibility of what was before her. Nevertheless, the correlation between their presence and the fact that she was seeking Yaguara was not lost on her. There hadn’t been a jaguar sighting in Northern America in more than twenty years, and yet they were as real as she was—the piercing golden eyes of the beasts lethally fixed on their new human prey. Another shiver chased a path down Amber’s spine with the realization that their research team had, indeed, become just that—prey.

  Thankfully, Amber’s research partner, Mike Richards, along with several male crew members, were already pointing weapons at the intruders, forming a human barrier to protect the east perimeter of their camp. For several seconds Amber could do nothing but stand there in stunned disbelief at the sight of the big cats.

  Her mind reeled, adrenaline in overdrive; her chest heaved with a hard-earned breath. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought she’d be within a few feet of even one of these sleekly muscled beasts, let alone, from her best count, a good half dozen of them—unrestrained predators, all well over two-hundred pounds and ready to attack.

  The name “Yaguara” played in her head, its meaning—the beast that kills its prey in one bound—tightening her grip on her weapon, her finger hovering over the trigger. In the blink of an eye, any one of those jaguars could attack and kill before a tranq could pierce its beautifully tattooed skin.

  “Amber, damn it,” Mike vehemently muttered from her left. Tall and fit, with blond hair fading into grey, he’d been her father’s best friend, and he was quick to play protector. “You should have stayed back.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” Amber whispered, her rifle weighing heavily in her arms but not as heavily as the fierceness of one of the jaguar stares fixed directly on her. “These people are my responsibility.”

  “Which is why you travel with experienced hunters,” he ground out. “To protect them. Let us do our jobs.”

  “Right now really isn’t the time to debate this.” She breathed in a low ball of tight air. Not when that cat was fixated on her, and she could see the intent deep in the yellow of its eyes—it was going to attack and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do but hold her finger on the trigger and pray for a miracle.

  Tension-laden seconds ticked by. Sweat trickled down her temple, a light breeze lifting strands of her auburn hair that had fallen from the clasp at her neck—the calm before the storm.

  The closest beast lunged forward, and everything spun wildly out of control. Someone grabbed the gun from her hand a moment before she was thrust behind a big, muscular body, her weapon stripped from her grip. She stumbled and fell backwards, catching herself on her palms with a hard jolt to her arms. Instinct sent her scrambling backwards on her hands, certain that the jaguar would be on top of her at any minute.

  But the jaguar didn’t attack. It was retreating, as were the other cats, warily backing away, their attention fixed on one thing—the powerful man who’d made a powerful entrance and now stood where Amber had been seconds before. It was as if the many guns pointed at the cats weren’t a threat—but this newcomer was.

  “Jareth,” Amber whispered his name.

  A reclusive novelist, and the only resident for thirty miles, he’d come around often in the month they’d been there in the canyon, always focusing his attention on Amber. The relationship had started out simmering with awareness and turned to damn near animal attraction. A little detail that frustrated the hell out of her because, once they’d done the niceties, the talks about his books and her research, he’d always pressed her to leave the canyon, always warned that the area was notorious for wild animal attacks. A warning that might have meant more if he had not remained here himself, calling this place home, especially since they’d found not one stitch of evidence to support his claim. With irritation, she’d assumed he’d been protecting his privacy. Yet still, she had wanted him, damn him. And now the truth of his words was here, breathing down their throats, ready to attack.

  “Oh, thank God, you’re safe,” said Evelyn Richards, Mike’s wife, appearing by her side and squatting down. “I was so scared for you.”

  “I’m okay,” Amber said, mesmerized by the display of raw, male strength Jareth made as he held the rifle in ready position, biceps flexed beneath the sleeves of a snug black T-shirt. He was tall, the defined muscles of his lower body hugged by soft, faded denim and without one ounce of obvious body fat. Just pure, male power. He was a gorgeous piece of man, no doubt about it, but right now, it wasn’t his beauty that demanded everyone’s attention, but rather, the lethal quality radiating off him.

  “I can’t believe they’re leaving,” Evelyn said softly, her eyes wide at the sight of the jaguars’ slow departure.

  Because of Jareth, Amber added silently, not willing to voice that opinion for reasons that bordered on protectiveness. More like guilt for misjudging him and dismissing his warning, because the notion that Jareth needed protection was a ridiculous one. As often before, she was struck by how he melded with the wilderness, a primal quality about him that reached behind the male sensuality he wore like a second skin. Behind that reserved demeanor of his, there’d been
a lethal quality, evident now. She had no doubt those cats sensed it too, as they disappeared into the woods. Suspicion rose in her about his ability to cause such a thing, but Amber quickly squashed it. The man had just saved her life. He didn’t deserve suspicion.

  Jareth’s broad shoulders relaxed into a straight line a second before he turned away from the woods, his straight dark hair framing determined features, a hard set to his square jaw. Penetrating teal eyes met hers; confidence radiated off of him that said this was over. The other men, Mike included, were far from ready to declare the threat gone. They held their weapons on target, ready for another attack.

  Jareth kneeled by Amber’s side, at ease enough to settle the gun on the ground. One muscular forearm rested on his knee, his shoulder brushing her arm, and that chillingly direct stare of his holding hers. She felt that connection clear to her toes, too. A rush of heat slid through her limbs that had nothing to do with the fading sun, and everything to do with this man. There was something about the way he looked at her that stripped away everything but the raw, needy female, and made the fear of moments before fade into the erotic charge between them.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, his whisky rough voice tingling a path along her nerve endings. A wayward strand of that straight, raven hair of his fell across his brow, begging for her fingers, which she curled into the dirt behind her so they wouldn’t get a mind of their own.

  “Hurt me?” she questioned, her voice gravelly, affected. She was never gravelly and affected. She told herself it was about the big cat that had almost attacked her, not the man she wanted to attack herself. In bed. Or wherever she could have him. “I’m pretty sure you just saved my life.”

  “You saved her from that cat,” Evelyn interjected, her dark brown hair falling from the clasp at her neck. Nearing fifty, and barely over five foot tall, she packed more spunk than most women half her age. “I’m so very thankful.” Her words were etched with motherly concern. Amber’s real mother had died in childbirth, and considering that Evelyn had been around Amber’s entire life, she’d certainly played the maternal role on occasion. Evelyn wrapped an arm around Amber and hugged her. “I was sure she was dead.”