Into The Dark (Lords of the Underworld #5.5)(50)
Author: Gena Showalter

He rolled his eyes. “You act like I’m looking for something serious. I’m a perv looking for action, Farr, that’s all. Now show me the box already. Your conversation skills suck.”

Fighting a grin, Farrah dug inside the bag and lifted the black velvet mound. Slowly, gently, she unwound the material layer by soft layer. The intricately carved top came into view, the man’s face somehow more savage than she remembered. Her stomach fluttered deliciously. If only such a powerful man truly existed….

River darted a quick glance at it and whistled. “That’s the coolest one so far. Have you opened it yet? Was it empty like the others?”

“No. And I don’t know.” The buyer had dictated she not open a single box. Of course, she disobeyed every time, her curiosity too great. Now, however…with the voice… She was a little afraid, which was stupid.

“Ah, come on. Open, open, open,” River chanted.

Her hand shook as she reached for the glittery gold ribbon. As if on cue, the voice returned.

Open it, he beseeched. His husky, wine-rich timbre filled her head, invaded her blood, tingling along the surface of her skin. Open it and see what’s inside.

She jerked her hand away. Incredulous, she blinked over at River. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He frowned.

“That…voice.”

“Don’t tell me you actually believe that shit about Pandora and her evil spirits.”

“Of course not. I just, I don’t know. This very deep, very masculine voice keeps telling me to—oh, never mind!” She waved her hand through the air. “There’s no way to explain without sounding crazy.”

River’s face scrunched and he gave her a brief, you-are-so-weird look. “You been puffing the magic dragon again?”

“Be serious!”

He barked out a laugh. “I am. Come on, tell Brother River what the naughty voice is telling you to do.”

One peek. Just take one peek.

Farrah gulped. “You truly don’t hear that?”

“No.”

I’ll give you so much pleasure, you’ll feel me inside of you for days. All you have to do is. Open. The. Box.

Farrah’s cheeks heated with a blush. Now she knew it was her imagination. Hadn’t she just lamented about her desire for a man, for passion and hard, pounding sex? She uttered an embarrassed chuckle. “Never mind. Just forget I said anything.”

“Yeah, right. Is the voice telling you to take off all your clothes and dance in the moonlight?” He wiggled his dark brows. “Is the voice telling you to wait for the mother ship to take you home?”

She flipped him off, and he gave another laugh.

Of its own accord, her gaze returned to the box. She removed a glove and traced a fingertip over the man’s—warrior’s—square jawline, over the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips. Warmth tingled up her arm. Drugging warmth, electric warmth.

An animalistic purr filled her ears. Do not stop. Touch more.

She gasped and snatched her arm away, even tugged her glove back onto her hand. Even knowing she was imagining things, she couldn’t stop her tingling reaction.

Woman, I said touch more, not less!

“What’s wrong?” River demanded. His arms jerked as he faced her, and the car swerved. Someone honked at them. He hurriedly straightened in the proper lane.

“Nothing, nothing,” she assured him. But a wave of need continued to slam into her. Need like she’d never known before, as if she were touching a flesh and blood man and he was touching her in return. That purr… “I’m not going to open it,” she said, more for the voice than for River. “That will mess up the ribbon, and the buyer will know we peeked. He might refuse to pay us.”

I can smell your arousal, woman. Now I want to taste it.

“Let’s just get this thing to its proud new owner,” she said on a shaky breath.

“We’re almost there.” River had lost his teasing air and now hummed with concern. Not that she could blame him. She’d never acted this way before. So…unstable. She was the calm one. She was the one who took everything in stride. She was the one who remained unaffected. Yet here she was, lusting after a voice inside her head.

Time to put the box away.

Farrah began to wrap the velvet around the wood, but the voice stopped her. No. Please, no. It was tortured this time, a desperate plea. Her mouth went dry, and she stilled. Maybe all of her adrenaline rushes had finally caught up to her and fried her brain. Maybe she needed to take a vacation.

River eased the car into the parking lot of a motel close to the designated nightclub. Even from here, she could hear the bump and grind of the music, a wild, frantic beat that aroused, beckoned. People milled in and out, laughing, talking, flirting.

“I hate these clandestine meetings,” River muttered, parking. The meeting place might stay the same, but they parked somewhere new each time.

“We’ve met with this guy eight other times. Nothing’s ever happened.” Farrah gently set the box on the dash and wound a thick silver belt around her waist, trying to make her body suit look more sexy and less burglarish.

River twisted and leaned into the backseat, grabbing the Polaroid camera she’d thrown back there. He snapped a picture of the box. The bright flash of light was almost blinding, and for several seconds she saw orange-gold spots.

“Here,” he said, handing her the photo. “Proof.”

She slid the picture under her belt. “Thanks.”

“You prepared for anything?”

“Always.” She held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers. “I have the powdered sedative in my ring and a knife in my boot. Plus, I’ll have the dart gun under my trench.” Even as she spoke, she was anchoring the gun at her side and tugging her coat around her shoulders.

“Damn it,” he suddenly burst out. “I hate sending you in there alone.”

“I’m still wearing my headgear, so you’ll be able to hear everything that’s said. Besides, it’s best this way, and you know it. We get the money without giving him a chance to steal the merchandise.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have to like it,” he grumbled. He pulled a Glock from his boot and checked the clip. Every time she saw him with a deadly weapon, she experienced a jolt. She had brought him into this dangerous life, but if anything ever happened to him…

She shuddered. “I’ll text you when he’s wired the money. You come back with the box, and we’ll go home and celebrate.”