On the Hunt (Sentinel Wars #3.5)(35)
Author: Gena Showalter

Her slender fingers were laced through his, and even though it made driving harder, he wasn’t about to let go. He’d been pain-free for nearly an hour now, and it was enough to make him euphoric.

"I’m sure he won’t mind, considering this is an emergency."

"I want to tell him about you. He loves these artifacts as much as I do. That’s why I loaned the disks to him."

"Maybe some other time. I’m not sure I could handle another barrage of scholarly questions tonight. I might go hoarse."

Truth was, he hadn’t minded her nonstop questions at all. The fact that she was interested in him and his people was just going to make her transition into his world that much easier.

He knew how hard it had been on Helen to leave behind her human upbringing. He hoped Viviana’s background would make it easier on her.

He really did want things to be easy on her. The thought of her suffering made him want to pound on something with his bare fists. Not good for his carefully held control.

Neal kept her hand in his as he hopped out of the truck. She scooted to the edge and stopped.

Her hazel eyes were dark with worry as she stared at him for a long moment. "What am I doing?"

"Helping a man in need?"

She looked at their joined hands. "I can’t stop touching you. I feel like a kid with a crush, and I don’t even know you. This is not like me at all."

She was getting cold feet, letting all the confusion and questions sink into that clever head of hers. "No? What are you like?"

"Slow. Methodical. I think things through. I don’t jump into trucks with strange men in the middle of the night and hold their hands."

"I’m your first, then?" he teased.

She didn’t smile. "I’m scared, Neal. This whole thing scares me more than those monsters ever could. You’re telling me that my whole life has been a lie. That I’m not even human."

"Nothing about your life is a lie. You just didn’t know your own family tree, that’s all."

"You think I’m going to save your life."

"I won’t pretend it’s not what I want. I don’t want to die. I want to keep fighting. I honestly never thought I’d find you in time, but now that I have . . ."

"You want to keep me."

"We’ll go slow," he promised. "I still have time. I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want."

"My life as I know it is over, isn’t it?"

He trailed a finger over her cheek, reveling in the softness of her skin. She was so pretty. So elegantly unattainable. He had no business with a woman like her, even if his luceria thought otherwise. "I prefer to think of it as the start of a new life for you—one surrounded by the people you’ve been reading about for years. This will be your chance to study us in a way no one else ever has: from the inside."

"You’re pushing all the right buttons to gain my cooperation, aren’t you?"

"Sweetheart, if I’m ever lucky enough to push your buttons, you won’t wonder why I’m doing it.

You’ll know."

That delightful pink flush rose up from the prim collar of her shirt, making Neal wonder just how far down her blush went. He could think of a lot better ways to be passing the night with her than showing up uninvited at some stodgy professor’s house.

He’d strip her out of all those proper clothes and get as much skin-on-skin contact as possible.

The play of sparks between them—the feel of minute traces of his power soaking into her skin—

would be enough to light the sheets on fire. And even though he wasn’t supposed to want a woman like Viviana, the luceria thought they’d be good together.

Who was he to argue with centuries of proof that the system worked? If the luceria wanted him to have her, he was going to enjoy convincing her to play along with tradition.

And part of that convincing was getting her thinking in the right direction.

He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her toward him. She went along for the ride, closing the distance between them. She slid forward on the seat, which shoved her skirt up her thighs.

Neal stepped up, wedging himself between her knees so he could get as close as he needed to be.

Her eyes slid to his mouth and he knew in that moment that he had her. Victory surged through him, making him feel stronger, more powerful. Just the thought of this woman wanting to kiss him was enough to send him into overdrive. Bring on the battle. Let a dozen charging Synestryn bear down on him. He’d take them all out. Not one of them would get close to his lady.

A low sound of warning rose up from his chest and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it.

He felt Viviana stiffen slightly under his hand, but it was too late for second thoughts now.

He pressed his lips to hers, forcing himself to keep things light. No open mouths. No tongue.

Just the contact of her lips on his.

It wasn’t even close to enough.

He wanted more. Desire spread through his body, pooling in his gut, making his limbs vibrate.

His luceria was freaking out, hopping around on his skin as if celebrating the contact.

Against his will, his fingers tightened around her neck, stroking slightly over her bare nape. He wanted to taste her there, to kiss and suck and bite while he took her from behind.

His c**k was throbbing and swollen, and the need to push her legs wide and rub himself against her was swiftly taking over all rational thought. He slid a hand up her thigh, feeling the silkiness of her stockings, then the even softer texture of her bare skin. Thigh-highs. Naughty girl under all that prim-and-proper.

Just the thought made him lose control.

Neal opened his mouth to deepen their kiss, but she was way ahead of him. Her tongue danced across his lips, flicking against his, making his blood heat. She fisted her hands in his shirt, jerking him closer, and all he could think was that he wished he hadn’t put it back on. He’d give anything to feel her palms against his bare chest again—feel his lifemark arcing to connect with her.

She slid to the edge of the seat, widening her thighs to make plenty of room for his body. The bite of her fingernails through his shirt was an exquisite torture, but not nearly as good as the sharp little nips of her teeth on his bottom lip.

A soft, feminine moan filled the space between them. Cold air swirled around them.

He’d have to keep her warm, cover her body with his. Not that he’d mind. He’d be her living blanket any day of the week and count himself a thousand kinds of lucky.

Neal cupped her breast, feeling the slippery silk fabric of her blouse warm between them. Her nipple puckered in his palm, though the damn layers of fabric she wore kept him from feeling it the way he wanted. He wondered if her ni**les would tighten like that for his mouth, too.