Ellora's Cavemen: Tales from the Temple IV, Page 2

  When he broke the kiss and released her breast, she felt woozy and a melting sensation pulsed between her legs. Heated and wanting more, she arched upward and moaned. His lips trailed over her neck, reaching for the soft throbbing pulse at the base.

  With lingering kisses he discovered erogenous zones on her neck she never realized she had.

  His mouth skimmed hers gently, then retreated. “Come on. I know you’re awake.”

  He moved his strategy to the next level. He located the top of her thigh-high stocking and started rolling it down her leg.

  Bursting into action, she sat up and launched at him with a snarl. “Get your hands off me, you cretin!”

  He grabbed her arms and captured her wrists in one hand. Suddenly she found his large male body sprawled on top of her, pinning her to the couch. As the man looked down on her, she inhaled a startled breath.

  Lord have extreme mercy. Mortification flamed in her face.

  It was Conall Tierney.

  With his tousled hair of burnished gold and a couple days’ growth of beard, he looked rough-and-tumble and capable of anything. The temper shining from his bright, sea-green eyes said she’d pissed him off but good. A flare of yellow light overruled the green, stunning and filled with incredible fire. She gasped in amazement. It couldn’t be.

  He couldn’t have firelight spilling from his eyes.

  Maybe the dim emergency lights made his eyes seem unearthly. Perhaps she’d hit her head and hallucinated.

  The fire in his eyes blinked out, replaced by the beautiful green.

  Okay, so she must have suffered oxygen deficiency to imagine Conall as anything but human. Top that off with a couple of other distracting factors and she wondered 12

  Night Scream

  how she could breathe at all. When she shifted against him, his body felt muscular and oh…oh, so fine against every one of her curves. His movement made her legs part. Her suit skirt, already pushed up past decency, inched higher. His hips nestled between her thighs. For a few seconds his cock pressed right up against her most vulnerable, tender spot. A wild tingle shot through her clit and she gasped at the illicit sensation. And what a cock it was.

  Erect, thick and long.

  A slow, burning ache moved into her center and she blushed. In the middle of being more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her life, she discovered this man could turn her thermostat up to blistering in two seconds flat. Evelyn’s stomach did double flips and her adrenaline pumped. She inhaled deeply to try and get control.

  “Let me up.” Her defiance sounded weak to her own ears. “Please.”

  Conall glared down at her. “If you don’t stop wriggling, you’re going to wish you’d never met me.”

  His voice, a soft growl with husky overtones, made a shiver travel up and down her spine.

  “Believe me, I’m already there.”

  She gave a token wiggle, but he kept his body pressed to hers. Humiliation made her face furnace hot. By attacking Conall with the stapler she’d performed one of the biggest, dumbest faux pas of her life. “Let me up.”

  “Let me up?” Soft and husky, his deep voice started a traitorous and yet delicious shiver coiling deep in her stomach. “That’s all you’ve got to say after almost braining the hell out of me with a…a stapler?”

  She sniffed. “Like I could have done much damage with it.”

  “Huh. You might have stapled me to death.”

  “Well, I could have killed you if I’d hit you in the head. I learned that in self-defense class last week.”

  “Self-defense?” He snorted a laugh. “You need a better instructor. I could teach you some things—no, never mind. It would help against mere humans but—”

  “Mere humans?” She snorted a soft laugh. “What do you think this is, the X-Files?”

  His mesmerizing eyes narrowed, and she noted his dark, obscenely long lashes.

  Nothing about this man spelled hideous in any way, shape, or form. Unless, of course, you counted his personality.

  “Could you get off me?” she asked, determined to quell the beast in him with a reasonable tone of voice.

  He released her wrists, his expression filled with mistrust. “If I do, are you going to try and kick my ass again?”

  “No.”

  13

  Denise A. Agnew

  Involuntarily her palms landed on the warm, hard strength of his wide shoulders.

  Tonight he wore a tight navy blue T-shirt that outlined the incredible muscles in his shoulders and arms. He felt stronger than any man she’d touched.

  Conall’s jeans did little to hide the feeling of cock pressing her clit in the most delicious way. Involuntarily she shivered at the luscious sensation. Her nipples beaded at the brush of his hard chest against hers.

  His gaze blazed down at her. “I’d stop doing that if I was you.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’m going to do something extremely unprofessional.”

  “Like you haven’t already? You kissed me. Now I call that inappropriate behavior.”

  Instead of smiling like the conniving, oversexed creature he was, Conall glowered with unnerving concentration, like a man on the hunt. His gaze devoured, so burningly sensual she could hardly get her breath. He didn’t appear one hundred percent under control, as if he could jump her any minute. Maybe she should fear him. Then again, she shouldn’t be afraid of an SIA agent. All of them went through strenuous psychological screening. Unless this guy decided to turn wacko on her for no reason, everything should be copasetic.

  Before she could savor more of his strong body on hers, he moved off her and she sat up.

  “Let me look at your foot.” He reached for her leg and brought it up onto his lap.

  Okay, so he wanted to play mysterious. If he thought he could charm his way into her good graces, he had another think coming. She didn’t succumb to charismatic, good-looking men with conceit coming out the yin-yang. Never.

  His gaze sharpened, and for a moment she thought she saw that extraordinary yellow flame in his eyes returning. “I apologize for frightening you.”

  “How—” She cut off, realizing he couldn’t read her mind, even if it seemed like he did. “I’m sorry I tried to hit you with the stapler.”

  A cynical smile touched his mouth for a few seconds, then disappeared. What would he look like if he smiled in joy? In wicked delight? She’d probably never know.

  “Whatever you did to make me pass out earlier… Could you teach me how to do it?” she asked.

  “Uh…no.”

  “You can’t or you won’t?”

  “Can’t.”

  Evelyn felt like picking up the stapler again and cracking him one, but instead she reined in her frustration. “I’ll make you a deal. Show me how you made me black out, and I won’t report that you tried to feel me up.”

  “Why you—” He scowled. “I wasn’t trying to feel you up. I was trying to take your stocking off to see the damage to your foot. Now let me see if you’re hurt.”

  14

  Night Scream

  Take off her stocking? In front of this sexy man?

  When she hesitated, he reached up and continued where he’d left off. His big hands reached up under her knee-length skirt to draw the nylon down with slow deliberation.

  The heat in his fingers seared her skin.

  She almost slapped his hand away, but then something strange happened. Her belly quivered with yearning desire as he drew the stocking down, down, down. Each brush of his skin against her leg sent warmth pooling deep in her loins. Her nipples tightened against her bra, and she thanked the heavens she wore one of those slightly padded bras so he couldn’t see her reaction. She perused his expression with surprise.

  The man looked enraptured as he watched the stocking slide over her knee, then over her calf, then all the way off her foot. He tossed the stocking across the back of the couch.

  Conall’s breath hissed in. He cupped her foot and she shivered as
his warm fingers held her. “Damn. Look at that. Does it hurt?”

  The already expanding bruise on the top of her foot looked angry and felt tender.

  “Not really.”

  “Rotate your foot and wiggle your toes.”

  She did as asked.

  “Any pain now?” he asked.

  “It aches a little.”

  He carefully lowered her foot. “I don’t think you’ve broken any bones.”

  She grabbed the stocking off the back of the couch, intent on putting the nylon back on as quickly as possible. As she hitched her leg up and slipped the stocking over her toes, he stood. She slid the stocking up over her bruised skin.

  “I could say you sexually harassed me,” she said without hesitation as she drew the sock up over her calf and then thigh.

  “I could say you attacked an agent of the SIA and hampered his ability to function.”

  “What? How did I hamper you?”

  She skimmed her fingers over the lace top of her stocking to make sure it lay flat.

  Conall’s eyes held pure male interest as his gaze caressed her leg from ankle to thigh.

  Evidently he had no intention of answering her question.

  When she slipped on her shoe, she winced as dull pain wormed into her foot.

  She glanced at the outrageous agent in front of her. “Where is your identification badge?”

  “Left it in my desk drawer. I hate wearing the damn thing.”

  “That’ll get you into trouble with security sooner or later. I take it you wore it to work tonight?”

  His gaze held definite defiance. “I wouldn’t have gotten in the complex without it.

  You one of those people who sticks to all the rules no matter what?”

  15

  Denise A. Agnew

  She swallowed. “Rules are made up for a reason.”

  He scratched his stubbled jaw. “Made up is right.”

  More thunder rattled the complex. Rain pounded at the windows with an enraged beat.

  He walked toward the window and looked out. Lightning flashed and more angry rumbles echoed. Water splattered from drains, running down the street and into the storm drains at a flashflood rate.

  She sighed in irritation. “I don’t think I’ll be leaving here for a while.”

  Conall turned back to her, his eyes warming in a man-totally-interested-in-woman way. Emergency lights made strange shadows over his high cheekbones. He had an aura of strength and complete confidence, a boldness and control she’d only viewed in Mac Tudor. While she’d been attracted to Mac, her sudden, chaotic feelings for this agent far surpassed any momentary hormone reaction she’d experienced around her boss.

  Stalking back toward her, Conall moved with the grace of a coiled beast, big and invincible. A thrill of anticipation, of not knowing what he would do, filled her. That and the fact his cock stayed hard and erect under those jeans.

  To get her mind off his erection, she decided to think of something to say.

  “Did you hear those uncanny noises?” she asked.

  “I’ve heard them every night I’ve worked here.”

  She shrugged. “It certainly isn’t ghosts, like some people say. It doesn’t seem likely something would start haunting this building out of nowhere, now does it? I mean, it’s been quiet all these years.”

  He crossed his arms, and those well-defined muscles bunched in the most interesting way. “Mac and I think someone called up the creature. That’s why I’m here,” he said. “My controller, Quinton Maybrick, assigned me to determine what the hell is going on around here.”

  “For your first assignment?”

  “This isn’t my first assignment. I worked in Europe for about three years.”

  “That sounds fantastic.”

  “You sound a little envious.”

  Startled by his accuracy gauging her emotions, she looked at him closely. He didn’t appear to be mocking her. “I am. But I plan to be equally as kick-butt when I join the special agent ranks. Give me time.”

  His mouth popped open, and his look of startled disbelief challenged her. “You?”

  She frowned and walked toward the door, intent on going back to her desk. “Me.

  I’m in self-defense training. Then I’ll be ready to apply for the SIA agency academy.”

  He followed, and when she slipped behind her desk, he stood in front of it like a sentinel. Authority emanated from the man in waves, potent and disturbing.

  16

  Night Scream

  Conall couldn’t believe this fine-boned, delicate-looking woman could be an agent for SIA. No way. In fact, she appeared nothing short of feminine with her shiny cognac wavy hair tumbling out of the chignon, and her startling blue eyes pinning him to the spot. Her oval face, small nose, well-carved lips and large eyes made her so damned cute. Her skin, pale and smooth, looked flawless. Fixated on her slim, long neck, he wanted to taste the pulse that beat so strong and hot beneath her skin.

  Whenever he came near her, he sensed arousal building within Evelyn. In all their encounters, he’d felt undeniable off-the-charts attraction. He’d barely been able to keep his hands off her the day he’d wanted to see Mac and Evelyn had refused. He wanted to feed on that excitement, drown in her subtle, feminine scent and the suppressed passion locked in that trim, fragile-looking frame. Defiance sparkled in her eyes. She attempted to push a stray tendril of hair back into her chignon and failed.

  Fragile, hell.

  He wouldn’t have used his knockout powers to put her under if she’d been more docile. Damned if she wasn’t the most defiant, fucking cute woman he’d discovered in all his years.

  “So you’re planning on being an agent?” he asked, understanding he repeated the obvious.

  Her bold look said it all. “It’s my goal.”

  She challenged him, yet he sensed her vulnerability, her disbelief at what she’d already experienced tonight. Too bad he couldn’t tell her everything. Damn it, sometimes he hated having to cover up his abilities.

  She picked up a pencil on her desk and started to twirl it in her fingers, the action just this short of nervous.

  “So you like working for Mac?” he asked.

  “I love working for him. He’s a fantastic boss.”

  Jealousy, something that Conall couldn’t remember experiencing in a long time, ran through him with a jolt.

  “Even though you’re working a fifteen-hour day? That seems a little over-the-top devoted on your part.”

  “My work schedule isn’t any of your business, Agent Tierney.”

  Unfazed by her tone, he said, “Conall, please.”

  She stood abruptly. “Conall, I suppose you’ve never worked long hours out in the field?”

  “Of course I have.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “There you have it. What’s different about what I’m doing?”

  She has a point. Damn it. “I think there’s a little more to it than that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  17

  Denise A. Agnew

  “You’ve got a crush on Mac, right?”

  She gasped, the sound scandalized. “Mac is a devoted husband and I’d never think of having an affair with a married man.”

  He put one hand up. “Whoa, take it easy. I didn’t say you would.”

  Intrigued by the fire and spice lurking inside this prim-looking female, he couldn’t help reacting to her. Primitive needs resurfaced. He felt like a jungle man in pursuit of his mate, a woman who could match him fire for fire. He took a deep breath, but the beast refused to be withheld. His attention trailed from the startled doe look in her eyes, to the way her wide, full mouth parted.

  Hell, yes. He wanted inside that mouth. What would it feel like to slide his cock into her mouth and experience that pretty mouth sucking and licking? His groin tightened without warning, a sharp feeling he couldn’t control.

  He stepped around the desk until he stood close to her. All his senses pi
npointed to the moment, to the high temperature that rocketed between them. This woman needed good loving. Long, hard, deep. Slow and fast.

  “I know what you desire,” he said.

  “Oh?” The pique in her face almost made him smile.

  “Yeah. Something to get your mind off your boss. You need a little adventure.”

  Elemental fire welled inside Evelyn. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath as he gazed down at her with those sexy, mysterious eyes. He blinked, slow and with a heavy-lidded expression.

  “Adventure?” she asked, her voice coming out too high-pitched.

  He winked, the smile that accompanied it adding to her difficulty breathing. She thought she saw that fire in his eyes again.

  Thunder roared and she jumped, instinctively reaching for him. His arms came about her, warm, strong and comforting. Her hands landed on his chest and touched that solid wall of muscle. Her pulse tripped into overdrive.

  Blazing with hunger, his gaze said he wanted her. “This wasn’t supposed to happen tonight.”

  Bewildered she asked, “What?”

  “You. Me. This damned storm.” His voice deepened, the husky sound delicious music to her ears. “What I want to do with you and to you.”

  His touch slipped down until it landed just above her ass. The exquisite feeling made her shiver. “I don’t believe in hiding when I feel something for a woman.”

  His heat and presence overwhelmed and did funny things to her heart. Whatever she felt at this moment went beyond common sense and reason.

  “Every time we’ve met,” he said, “I’ve noticed something hot between us. I’m so damned attracted to you I can’t see straight.”

  “Oh?” she said breathlessly.

  18

  Night Scream

  “Evelyn, I care about you. Now there’s some crazy creature haunting these halls and I don’t want to let you out of my sight.”

  Stunned by his declaration that he cared, she hardly managed to say, “If I become an agent I’ll be put in dangerous situations.”