Dark Kisses (Carnal Thirst #1.2)(3)
Author: Sylvia Day

Kim studied him for a long moment, taking a deep breath and then another. Something swept over her delicately beautiful features, something warm that briefly touched the chil in his gut. “I’m not into pain. If that’s what you need, then you’re right, I’m not your girl. But I don’t think that’s what you’re warning me about. You don’t want to hurt me; you just don’t want to hold back. And that’s what I need, Raze—a man who doesn’t hold back. That’s what kind of mood I’m in.”

Now it was his turn to study her. “Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.” Raze dug in his back pocket for his walet and laid out a hundred dolar bil for Sam. “Let’s go.”

“I have to say goodbye to the team. Got a preference for a hotel? I’l meet you there.”

Smart girl, he thought. He wrote his room number on a napkin and slid it over to her. “The Drake.”

“You already had a room? I admire your optimism.”

“I’m just passing through.”

Laughing, she bumped shoulders with him. “I’m just playing with you, rough guy. Besides, twenty minutes in the bar and you’ve already got two women wiling to go to bed with you, I’d say a little optimism is justified.”

Christ. He wanted her. His blood was thrumming through his veins, burning with an excitement he hadn’t felt in… wel, a long-assed time. Impatient expectation wasn’t in his nature. Or so he’d thought.

“Should I bring anything?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

“An overnight bag.”

She slid off the barstool and grabbed his wine to take it back to her table. “See you in an hour, Raze.”

He grabbed her elbow, squeezed gently. “Make it thirty minutes.”

Again, she searched his face. Again, she saw something that settled her. “Forty-five. I’l hurry.”

“Hurry faster.”

* * *

“Are you insane?”

Kim looked at her best friend and shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

“Your dad is a cop,” Delia reminded, twisting her martini glass back and forth. “Your brother is a cop. You know better than to go home with strange men you pick up in a bar. He could be a serial kiler or a sexual sadist or… anything!”

“It’s because I’ve grown up with cops that I know what I’m doing with him.” She’d watched the way he walked into the bar. The confident stride, the cooly observant eyes that took in everything, the way he carried his powerful body with limber agility. A hunter. She’d bet money he was undercover vice. Just as she’d bet money that something about his job was eating at him now and he wanted to put it away for a night, take some solace from someone who wouldn’t be around long enough to remind him he’d lost his edge for a few brief hours.

Looking back over her shoulder, she remembered watching Raze take a seat at the bar, remembered the way he’d looked into his glass as if the answer he was looking for could be found in it. Wasn’t she here for the same reason? To seek oblivion in the company of others. So they’d narrow it down to the two of them, and toss in orgasms and physical exhaustion. There were worse ways to spend the night. Like lying in bed alone, drenched in clammy sweat and shaking with fear.

Delia frowned, her dark eyes filed with worry behind her chic electric blue eyeglass frames. “This sort of reckless behavior isn’t like you. You don’t want to admit it, but you’re stil reeling from what happened to Janele. You’re not in the right frame of mind.”

Janele. God. Kim polished off the last of the shiraz. Even though she’d moved into a different apartment in a different building in a different part of town, she couldn’t get the memory of coming home to her roommate’s murder out of her head. The crazy ex Janele had been running from for years had finaly tracked her down and taken her life, then turned the gun on himself. Kim couldn’t close her eyes without seeing it al over again—blood everywhere, splattered over everything, pooling on the floor in a viscous crimson lake. The sharp metalic smel of fresh death had seared her nostrils, indelibly etching a nightmare on her mind.

“I have to go.” She dug her business card out of her purse and wrote Raze’s name and room number on the back. “If I turn up missing, here’s the last place I was.”

“Ha! That’s not funny, Kim.” Delia looked at the others. “Tel her she’s out of her mind. Stop her.”

Justin looked up as she stood. He shook his head. “Sorry, Dee. She’s not changing her mind. She’s got the devil in her eye.”

“Leave off, Delia,” Rosalind said, fanning herself. “That guy was seriously hot. I’m rooting her on. Go, Kim, go. Rock his world. Make him beg.”

Delia groaned. “Oh my god, you’re al whacked. I’m caling your brother.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Kim said dryly, bending down to kiss her friend’s cheek. “Go for it. See you guys Monday.”

“If you’re stil alive then!” Delia yeled after her. “You sex-crazy maniac.”

Kim was smiling al the way to her car, but when she slid behind the wheel her humor was gone. Replaced by a hotter, more pressing emotion. There was a gorgeous, dangerously seductive man waiting in a hotel room for her. A man who was aching and lonely, just like she was. For tonight, at least, she wouldn’t have to take a damn pil to fal asleep.

CHAPTER 4

The minute Raze walked into his hotel suite, he felt as if the air had thinned. Being alone was rubbing him the wrong way, which was so opposite from his usual desire for as much solitude as he could wrangle. There was too much stimuli in the world to alow him peace—the pounding of heartbeats, the steady surge of blood in veins, the various scents that betrayed mood and train of thought. He avoided crowds when he could, but now it seemed he was stuck in an odd place where being by himself was more miserable than being around others.

Roling his shoulders back, he puled the box of condoms out of a shopping bag and set it on the end table by the smal loveseat. He left the new bottle of wine on the dinette table and tossed the bag in the trash, wondering what the hel to do with himself.

He ran both hands over his head and down the back of his neck, growling as he struggled with an unusual sense of anxiety. This time lapse from meeting a lover to f**king her was a step he’d been skipping for a few centuries now. He usualy laid ‘em where he found ‘em, and that worked for everyone. If he’d hooked up with the bartender, it likely would have gone down right there at the club, in the back somewhere, quick and dirty. Waiting for Kim was excruciating, because it gave her time to have second thoughts. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she changed her mind. She’d made him want her. Now no one else was going to do.

Raze moved into the bedroom and plugged his iPod into the docking station, his tension easing a little as Hinder drifted out of the speaker. Feeling confined by his clothes, he began puling them off. His shirt went first, folowed by his boots, then his jeans and boxer briefs. He was tossing his clothes over the back of a bedroom chair when he heard the knock out in the living area.

The surge of lust that hit him affected the steadiness of the first step he took. Then it perversely strengthened his stride. His purpose and focus narrowed to his body’s need for the woman on the other side of the door. It was a base and elemental craving, purely physical, but a part of him was distantly aware that it was her bold yet easygoing personality that had tipped the scales enough to tempt him to this madness. She was al wrong for him. So wrong. But he knew when he pushed inside her it was going to feel so damn right.

He puled the door open. His breath hissed on a sharp inhale at the sight of Kim on his doorstep, dressed in a fitted white tank top and worn jeans that hugged her like a lover. She’d let her hair down, freeing the riotous mass of inky curls to tumble around her slender shoulders and halfway down her back. Her feet were bared by jeweled sandals, revealing toenails that were painted black and big toes decorated with white flowers and swirls. Gold hoops hung from her ears, replacing the diamond studs she’d worn before. He was flattered she’d given thought to how she looked for him.

Presently, however, she seemed focused on looking at him.

“Wow,” she breathed. “Part of my mind is saying I should be freaking out that you’re answering the door nak*d. Another part is thinking: Holy shit, did I get lucky or what? Don’t turn out to be crazy, please. I realy need this right now.”

The raging need inside him quieted. The soft plea in Kim’s voice and the momentary shadow of pain in her beautiful eyes altered the dynamic of his approach. He caught her gently by the elbow and tugged her in. When she cleared the door, he released it to shut by itself and he lowered his mouth to hers.

Swalowing her gasp, Raze slipped his arms around her, stroking his hands up her spine and molding her slender body to his. Her duffle bag hit the floor and her hands came up, one holding the back of his head while the other cupped his cheek.

The tender, encompassing nature of the embrace startled him even as it soothed the ragged edges of his volatile mood. He lifted her feet from the floor, tilting his head to get a deeper seal. His tongue stroked into her mouth, finding the taste of cinnamon and her own natural sweetness. He groaned, ravenous for her, but unwiling to devour. He’d thought he needed hard and fast. She’d thought she needed that, too. They’d both been wrong.

She caught his lower lip between her teeth and tugged, her lips soft and wet, her tongue a velvet lash. He wanted those lips and tongue al over his body. Her hands, too. They were strong and sure, confident. Her moan vibrated against him, luring his fangs to descend.

Not ready for that, Raze set her down reluctantly, his gaze locked with hers. She was flushed and beautiful, her eyes clear and open, yet tinged with sadness. As he watched, tears weled and slipped off her bottom lashes.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered, releasing him to swipe at her cheeks. “I asked you not to be crazy and then I get weepy over a kiss. I swear I’m not mental.”

“It’s okay.”

“You like picking up teary, emotional women?”

“You picked me up,” he corrected with a smile. “And there’s usualy only one reason a woman like you picks up a guy like me. I’m not sorry to find out differently.”

“You thought I objectified you.” She ran a sheepish hand through her black-as-midnight hair. “I can’t say you’re entirely wrong about that.”

“I thought that’s what I wanted.” Impersonal, with expectations that were easy to meet. But it turned out she was right—what he’d needed was her. Giving her the oblivion she wanted was going to keep him busy in ways a quick and dirty f**k would never have done. There was a connection between them, and he realized he needed that far more than he needed an orgasm.

Obviously, Baron’s taunts had dug deeper than Raze had given the man credit for. Women didn’t connect with him beyond the physical, he didn’t give them enough of himself to get that close. It wasn’t deliberate on his part; he just didn’t work that way. He’d dealt with infatuation and even sexual obsession that women mistook as love, but it was always fleeting. Quickly come and gone. But Kim… she needed what he was capable of giving. It moved him that for once he could fil a need that was more than skin deep.

Her hand on his face slid upward, her fingers tracing the arch of his brow. “I’m glad I found you.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead, wondering what she saw in him that put warmth in her eyes. “Let me put your bag in the bedroom. There’s some wine on the table. Are you hungry? Want some room service?”

“You don’t have to wine and dine me.” She smiled. “I’m a sure thing.”

Stepping back, he picked up her duffle. “I’m stil going to seduce you.”

“I won’t complain. I’m just letting you off the hook.”

With a sweep of his hand, he gestured her deeper into the room and headed into the bedroom. He was about to pul on a pair of sweats when he glanced into the living area and saw Kim undressing. He moved to the threshold, fascinated by the confident, efficient way she took her clothes off. It was no striptease she was doing, no narcissistic display of her assets.

Raze leaned into the doorframe and crossed his arms. “I was going to put some pants on.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Why? I think we’ve both seen each other at our most nak*d just a minute ago.”

“Okay, then.” Her open honesty was as arousing as her body. “Come here.”

She approached him in the same no-nonsense way she’d undressed, bringing the box of condoms with her. He took her in, admiring the sleek lines of her lithe body and the unaffected sway of her trim hips. The contrast between her dark hair and pale skin was a stunning one, framing a figure that had seemed modest while clothed but was perfectly, lushly proportional in the flesh.

“Why am I not nervous?” she asked when she came to a halt in front of him. “What is it about you that makes me so comfortable? I’ve never even walked around my own house nak*d.”

Raze tilted his head to the side, contemplating that. Most mortals who met him sensed the predator he was. It kept them on edge, which is what so many of his lovers found attractive about him—the hint of danger he exuded by his nature. He was a hunter, they were his prey, and they felt it on a subconscious level. That he put Kim at ease in a way she was with no one else, not even herself, was inexplicable. “I don’t know. But I like it.”

Her mouth curved. “Me, too.”

Uncrossing his arms, he reached out to her, lifting a glossy curl and rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. “You’re very beautiful, Kim. You’re not the only one who got lucky tonight.”