Predatory Game
Predatory Game (GhostWalkers #6)(31)
Author: Christine Feehan
“Sure, listen to the water, you were just saying it was peaceful. You tell me something from your past and immediately get nervous and want to run.” He slid down, pillowing his head on a rolled-up blanket. “Come on, mystery lady, get over here where you belong.”
Saber hesitated only a moment, then snuggled close to his side. The feel of his body curved protectively around hers was fast becoming familiar, comfortable, as if this was where she belonged. She was tired and the fresh air and absolute beauty of their surroundings, along with Jess’s presence, made her intensely happy. She cradled her head in the hollow of his shoulder, one slender arm flung across his broad chest, and closed her eyes. “If you hear or see anything suspicious, or anyone else comes near us, promise you’ll wake me up.”
So she felt it too, then, Jess noted. He let his gaze drift around them, quartering the area to make certain no one was near. “I will. Go to sleep.”
Jess held her, caught somewhere between heaven and hell. Having already tasted the honeyed sweetness of her mouth, he craved more. His mind was at peace, holding her in his arms, but his body was crawling with need. Slow, he reminded himself, slow and gentle. Saber was worth every ache, every sleepless night. She needed protection whether she knew it or not, because if Whitney had put her in a hole in the ground and she had escaped, then he would be coming after her.
He didn’t want to think of the other possibility-that Whitney had sent her to spy on him, to report how close to the truth he was in his investigations. God help them both if she was betraying Whitney, yet that didn’t feel right to him. She was too close to bolting. A spy wouldn’t be running, she’d be trying to get closer to him.
Saber didn’t like snow, certainly not to drive in. First a series of bad storms, and the weather would be breaking sooner than usual. Once the snow fell Saber would be less inclined to take off and he would have all winter to tie her securely to him.
The words of his song echoed in his mind, a reality to him.
Oh, but those haunting eyes
They make me realize
The depths of my emotions stirring inside
Haunting eyes, haunting refrain, and all so true. Every time he looked into her violet-blue eyes his heart turned over. This was one woman he would never be over. Every day strengthened his feelings for her, his assurance of how completely he was committed to her.
Saber slept with the innocence of a child. Deeply, quietly, still in her sleep, where awake she was quicksilver. It was dark when she opened her eyes, and he knew the very instant by the way her body tensed, her swift intake of breath.
“You’re all right, baby.” He breathed it softly in her ear, firmly turning her in his arms. “I’ve got you. If you open your eyes you’ll know you’re perfectly safe.”
His hands were possessive, his breath warm against her skin, his husky, sexy voice swirling a fierce heat in the center of her body. Saber moved against him restlessly, an unconscious enticement.
“Am I?” She whispered the words, craving the feel of his mouth feeding on hers, needing him there in the darkness.
There was no hesitation. Jess needed her every bit as much. He caught her head firmly in the crook of his arm, fist beneath her chin, and brought his head down to hers. There was nothing of the sweet gentle persuasion he had coaxed her with before. He was too hungry for her. He took possession of her mouth without his usual self-imposed control. Male domination pure and simple. Hot, heated, demanding, an assault on mind and body, his tongue an invasion, mating wildly. It was a turbulent storm sweeping her into a primitive world of pure feeling.
A rush of damp heat, her br**sts swelling, aching, her skin ultrasensitive. Jess’s hand moved under her shirt, rested on her narrow rib cage, fingertips brushing the underside of her breast, sending a wave of fire darting like tongues across her skin.
Saber wrenched herself away with a little despairing cry, rolling away from him, from his fully aroused male body and hard threatening muscles. “Jesse, we can’t do this.” It was a heartbreaking moan. Hopeless, forlorn, tinged with desperation.
Jess laid perfectly still, staring up at the thousands of stars blanketing the sky, afraid if he moved he would shatter into a million fragments. His body raged for release, his head pounding savagely. He wanted her with every cell, every fiber of his being. Inside, warning bells were shrieking at him. He could not lose her through clumsy handling.
What the hell was wrong with him? He knew she was afraid. The furthest thing from her mind was any sort of commitment.
He struggled for control, forced a note of amusement into his voice. “Sure we can, honey.” He pulled himself into his chair with the ease of long practice. “It’s the perfect night for it. You’re a woman, I’m a man. Those little twinkling things overhead are stars. I believe it’s referred to as romance.”
Saber sat a few feet from him, arms across her chest. She was fighting just to breathe normally and there was Jesse, laughing at her inexperienced reaction. She had an uncharacteristic urge to slap his handsome face. Patsy was right. He was a cad. Her body was crying out for his, uncomfortably not her own, and he was calmly gathering everything up, ignoring her obvious distress. She sure as hell wasn’t perfect Chaleen whom he had perfect sex with.
Jess watched Saber rake an unsteady hand through her hair and bite at her full lower lip. In the moonlight she looked wildly erotic, impossibly sexy. He had to look away, his jeans so tight they hurt, his body actually trembling.
“I think talking about Chaleen darling and her perfect sex put ideas in your head,” Saber grumbled. “Either that or Patsy, with all her talk of bimbos.”
“You hardly qualify,” he said dryly.
Saber tested her legs, standing up to gather the picnic supplies into the basket. Her blue eyes flashed purple sparks at him. “Is that an insult, Jesse? Because if it is, you can take the big slide.”
He laughed softly, the sound inviting. “You have such a way with words. Here, I’ll carry that,” he said as she took the basket from his lap. It looked nearly as large as she was.
“Don’t start with the short jokes,” she cautioned. “I’m not in the mood.”
He followed her, keeping up easily with a single thrust of his powerful arms. “You mean like: Hey! I’m sitting down and I still have a couple of inches on you.”
She stopped so abruptly he ran right into her, catching her waist, laughing at her squeal of outrage as he pulled her down onto his lap. “What’s wrong, Saber, does it hit too close to home for comfort?”