On the Hunt (Sentinel Wars #3.5)(73)
Author: Gena Showalter

He hadn’t expected her innocence to seduce him. Now he wanted to give her everything he’d just promised . . . and much, much more. If he learned her true nature in the process, that would be an extra bonus, but it was no longer his main desire or concern.

Shay turned to Sunny, saying something, and he held his breath, wondering if Sunny would confess all. Well, it wasn’t like Shay or Kate should be surprised. He was Jamie Angel, after all, and if they expected him to avoid Sunny Renfroe, then his little sis shouldn’t have suggested he might find the woman appealing.

He turned, not wanting to see whether Sunny blabbed about his proposition . . . or his failed seduction attempt. With a heavy groan, he leaned against the side of the porch and closed his eyes. His entire body was on fire, absolutely burning for Sunny. Tonight was supposed to be about subterfuge, about unlocking all her clever mysteries. Instead? He was fully f**king smitten with the female. Not good.

Beyond that, he was harder than stone inside his jeans, which meant the next hour would be painfully slow—if she even showed at the gazebo. Reaching between his legs, he rubbed scraping denim against his erection, aching for Sunny with downright frenzied intensity. No woman in years had affected him so strongly and instantly.

Wait! That was it. He opened his eyes with a start, hand still poised against his groin. No other woman had ever brought such heat into his body. Ever. She’d clearly placed some kind of erotic spell over him, proving her supernatural nature; otherwise he wouldn’t be wound so tight.

He would go to the gazebo, wait for her, and seduce her. Then, when he had her beneath him, he would pry the truth out of her.

Sunny hadn’t dared ask Shay or Kate what a glass gazebo was, and sneaking away from the party had taken some clever maneuvering. In the end, she’d said she wanted to walk down to the creek to get away from all the noise, and from the way Shay’s eyes had gleamed, her friend had clearly guessed what was really going on.

Shay had smiled broadly and warned her to be careful, which Sunny took to be more than a passing caution about her brother and his scoundrel’s ways.

Sunny had to be losing her mind to court the kind of danger that Jamie Angel was offering, and yet? She hadn’t found the strength inside herself to stay away. Despite the fact that she was violating every rule of her job description, even knowing that she might be seriously reprimanded, or even possibly lose her position, she couldn’t stop herself from following the gorgeous, seductive man.

He wasn’t wicked; there was no guile in him. Yet he attracted her with his frighteningly powerful magnetism. All her years and she’d kept herself pure. What would her supervisors say? They answered to God, and none of her kind was supposed to mingle sexually with humans. Ever.

So here she stood at the end of the dark, tree-lined path, staring at the distant shape of what had to be the glass gazebo. She’d used her own radiance to find the way in the dark, but that wouldn’t do now that Jamie might see, so she lifted her cell phone and used it to illuminate her path. The moon was overhead, too, but it was only a sliver, so while it definitely set the atmosphere, it didn’t provide much brightness.

Stepping carefully, she neared the structure; it appeared almost Japanese in design, which seemed at odds with the antebellum style of the home. She’d seen something like it before, but couldn’t think where. She was about to search for a door, when Jamie opened one for her, peering out at her. In shadowy relief, he seemed much larger, like a massive, solid sculpture, and she hesitated.

He answered by seizing hold of her wrist and tugging her inside the gazebo with him, closing the door tight behind them both. They fell against the glass panes, instantly in each other’s arms.

"You came to me," he breathed in the darkness.

"Well, you asked so nicely." She laughed, and he pulled her much closer. She could hear his heart’s fast, aroused tempo beneath her ear.

"You make me want to be nice."

"Which is so much better than naughty."

"Now, that, my darling, depends entirely on what kind of naughty you’re talking about." He traced the length of her nose with his fingertip, studying it intently. "Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got an adorable nose?"

She burst out laughing. "Okay, I’m thinking you aren’t nearly so smooth as you think you are!

Talking about my nose, Jamie Angel." She giggled some more, especially when he looked genuinely offended for a moment.

"Cutting down my moves now, are you?"

"I have a silly nose, so you were really reaching." She’d always thought it turned up just a little bit too much.

He bent down and very sweetly kissed her there. "It’s got an attitude. It says, ‘I’ve got pluck and determination.’ "

"My nose tells you that?"

"Uh-huh. And it tells me to do this, too." Without asking permission, without a word or a sound beyond a low groan, he covered her mouth with his own. It was an un-apologetic kiss, a commanding one, and he pressed her tighter against his chest.

Before she could stop herself, before she could consider the potential reprimands—or trouble with heaven itself—she opened her mouth eagerly to him. He slipped his tongue between her lips, creating a circular, slow pressure, until she dared to reciprocate the motion. Something changed right then, a next level of heat and fire passing between their bodies.

This kiss . . . was more than a kiss—it had to be. It was a kind of claiming, with Jamie moving his hands into her hair, twining his fingers all in it, even as he pressed her up against the glass door. He used his hips to pin her there, and she gasped when she felt his very hard erection push into her belly.

He broke the kiss, moving his mouth to her neck. "What’s wrong?" he murmured, lowering his head until his lips were against her throat. He began suckling and nibbling there, then, with a laugh, released a husky meow.

She dragged at the air, trying to find her balance. I felt your manhood, and it scared me . . . made me want you even more.

"I’m afraid," she admitted quietly, aware that she’d begun shaking slightly.

He kissed the column of her throat, trailing wildfire across her skin. He stilled, his mouth poised against her collarbone. "Won’t hurt you," he rumbled. "Trust me."

"I don’t know what to do."

"Baby. Baby. You are doing everything I want or need," he said, then flicked his tongue against her throat, licking her there.

With a trembling hand, she reached up and stroked his hair, leaning against the door to steady herself. He moaned slightly at her gentle gesture, nuzzling her, then turned his cheek until it rested in her palm. In that moment she realized he really wasn’t a threat, or anywhere near as tough as he wanted the rest of the world to believe. It was just as she’d sensed on the veranda earlier: He possessed a very tender, gentle streak that he did his best to hide from everyone around him.