Cold Blooded (Page 16)

“I think it’s fitting.” Rourke grinned. “You’re my Reine too.” He strode over and grabbed my hips, bringing us together.

I glanced around, realizing we were suddenly alone and out of the godforsaken car. And there was no imminent threat bearing down on us. He lowered his head slowly and I let his scent wash over me for the gazillionth time. I would never grow tired of it.

When he was this close, I couldn’t focus on anything else.

All my neurons fired at once and my brain became hazy. It didn’t help that my wolf started running in circles yipping, contributing to the chaos.

His tongue entered my mouth, hot against mine.

I opened myself up to him easily, taking him in, my lips parting with a long sigh. Finally. He was soft and hard and perfect. All his strength pushed tightly up against mine, the way it should be.

He growled and pressed us together, deepening the kiss.

Our heads tilted farther and my hands shot to his chest, landing on the ridiculously tight T-shirt he’d borrowed from Tyler, now dirty and torn from the explosion. “We need to get this off of you,” I murmured as I started to pull, immediately hearing a satisfying rip.

At the sound, he broke our embrace, appearing as dazed as I felt. “Jessica.” His irises radiated a beautiful deep green. “Not yet. We can’t do this yet.” He took a small step back and ran the back of his hand over his mouth. “Your taste is like an addiction. It’s so damn hard to quit once I start, but we have to go up to the cabin. Staying here is a mistake.”

He was right.

I pounded my fist against his chest in frustration and then rested my forehead against it. I was one millimeter away from kicking someone’s puppy. I leaned back so I could glance up at him, knowing my irises flashed the same emotion as his. “I hear you. My brain just doesn’t work properly when you’re around, as we learned from our happy fun time in the car. All my wolf wants to do is rip your clothes off in a mindless frenzy. It’s hard not to be resentful of our obligations when all I want is to be with you.”

A snarl ripped from his diaphragm and he tugged me against him, flattening his strong hands against my back, his arms locking around me tightly. He lowered his mouth against my ear and rasped, “I haven’t denied myself anything in a thousand years. Resisting you is taking every ounce of everything I’ve got. My beast is clawing me from the inside out, fighting me to make this official. All I can think about is throwing you down on the grass and taking you from every angle I possibly can. Repeatedly.” A small moan escaped my lips. “But if we do that, we will be lost to it for hours and we can’t afford it right now. Your safety is more important to me.” A low sound from the center of his chest spread outward and made my toes curl. “And you better believe that when I take you, I take you on my terms”—he ended on a whisper—“repeatedly.”

Goose bumps covered my flesh.

I pressed my face into his chest and tried to recover. My brain was mush. I had to take a step back to regroup. Rourke had been around a lot longer and his control was impeccable. I was a newborn and mine was not. “Rourke, how old are you?” I tilted my head up at him.

His expression held a glint of surprise. “I haven’t answered a question like that in a very long time.”

I shrugged. “We’re a couple now, and it’s time for us to be on the level about everything or this won’t work. I don’t know what you are—only that you’re a cat of some kind. I think the basics are in order here. Don’t you agree?”

“Instead of answering, I’d rather show you. Reaching the top of the mountain will be quicker and easier in our animal forms. Once we change back, we can talk.” His voice held an intensity I couldn’t place. Was he really worried what I’d think?

“Listen,” I said, placing my palms on his pecs. “I don’t care what you are, or even how old you are. We’re way past that. None of it matters. You could be a two-thousand-year-old Griffin and it wouldn’t matter to me.”

He laughed. It was a rough, rich sound. “I’m no Griffin, but it’s better if I show you.”

I hesitated, reading his gaze.

He was anxious.

“Okay.” I turned toward the river. “Where do you want to shift? And I hope you have spare clothes at the cabin, because mine aren’t going to magically morph there.”

He took my hand and led me toward the water. “I have extra clothes, but you’ll have to make do with mine until everything is settled up top. I’ll come back down and get yours when we’re done dealing with Ray. Let’s cross the river before we shift. We’re fairly close to the sulfur stream, and it’s straight up from there. Since we’re shifting, it doesn’t make sense to douse ourselves—sulfur won’t mask our animal scents. They are way too strong.”

I followed him into the river. The water wasn’t that deep and we managed to cross to the other side without getting totally soaked. It was dark as night in the forest. He guided me to a small grassy patch. “You change here and I’ll shift over there.” He pointed to bushes twenty paces away. “I haven’t been in front of anyone in my true form in longer than I can remember. I don’t want to scare you, so let’s take it slow.”

I rubbed my arms absentmindedly. “You’re kind of freaking me out,” I admitted. “Should I be scared? And why don’t you have to change very often? I thought shifters needed the release—their bodies had to shift.”

He leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead. “I don’t ever need to shift. Once you’re old enough, you gather power to yourself automatically and I’ve perfected it without shifting. I can’t do what you can do—and achieve a full suspended form—but I can reach my beast without a full change. It gives me more power than the average shifter, but it’s not like yours.” I’d seen him channel his beast when we’d fought the wolves, and then again with Selene. He was incredibly controlled. The only thing that had given him away both times had been the golden fur that had sprouted along his arms.

“How old is old enough?” I pressed, curiously.

He chuckled. “Old.”

Naomi’s words filtered through my mind. When we’d been on the road, she’d informed me there had been rumors Rourke was close to acquiring a godhood, which was the ultimate mix of power and immortality for a supernatural. You had to be old enough, powerful enough, and have a god or goddess as your patron. But it wasn’t something I felt comfortable asking yet. We hadn’t even consummated our relationship. Chatting about possible god-ness sounded too over the top, especially since he was shy about telling me what kind of cat he was.