Ecstasy in Darkness (Alien Huntress #5)(26)
Author: Gena Showalter

“McKell,” she rasped. “Answer.”

He straightened with a jerk, then stepped away. They hadn’t so much as brushed against each other, but his skin was sizzling again. All over. If he wasn’t careful, he would be on her.

“No, we are not going to share our diary excerpts now. We’re going to leave.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Let’s go.”

Ava followed McKell through the winding hallways of her building, painfully aware of the plain gray walls, the scratches in the metal and brick, the dirt staining the concrete floors, and then outside, into the cooling night air. Garbage bags lined the sidewalks. Pickup was tomorrow. The scents of rotting food wafted, among other indelicate things, and her cheeks heated.

Doesn’t matter. This was home. He could deal.

Where the hell was he going, anyway? He was still shirtless, that bone necklace clanging with his every step, and people were staring. Male, female, didn’t matter. The males recognized a threat, and the females spotted possible prey. Unable to stop herself, Ava hissed at them all.

Finally, in front of a nearby alley, he settled and crooked his finger at a woman across the street. The woman was alone, carrying two grocery bags, but that didn’t dissuade her from crossing the street as if in a trance. Maybe she was. The bastard had powers Ava hadn’t known about. He’d told her to place her hand in his, and she hadn’t been able to prevent herself from doing so.

If he had told her to stab herself, she would have done that, too.

He was far more dangerous than she’d realized. Far sexier, too.

When he’d told her—so superiorly—that he was hungry, she’d wanted to jump up on the table and become his buffet. All you can eat. To have all that power at her fingertips … demanding everything … Oh, yes. Far more dangerous.

Power was an aphrodisiac to Ava. And the thought of people seeing them together, thinking she had been the one female to tame him, to gentle him, God, it was tempting. The pride she would feel … the respect she would gain, she might never know it’s equal.

The shame, too. She wouldn’t have tamed him, gentled him. No one would ever be able to do so. And he was a criminal, she reminded herself. A target of AIR. If she needed the reminder a thousand times, she’d issue the reminder a thousand and one. She didn’t need her coworkers laughing at her, telling her how easy she was. Even though the females would be jealous. No question.

Joking with Noelle about nailing him, fine. But forever being labeled the agent who slept with her targets? No, thank you. She’d told herself that before, but the possibility hadn’t been as … imminent then. He’d stood in front of her, the bed behind her, desire heating her up, and she’d again fought the urge to offer herself to him. However he wanted her.

Only thing that had stopped her then was the thought that he would reduce her to a meal. A walking cup of joe. Nothing more, nothing less. The way he’d sneered about the pizza delivery boy … his disdain for “food” had never been clearer, and it had been pretty clear before. Her hands fisted.

“You better not kill her,” Ava gritted out.

“Believe me. She’ll love what I do.”

“Braggart.” Bastard. And if the bitch tried for anything more than a one-way transfusion, she’d lose her tongue. Tongue necklaces were probably a lot prettier than finger necklaces.

“I spoke only the truth.”

Shouldn’t he demand that Ava feed him? she wondered again.

I thought you wanted to be more than a food source.

She did. That didn’t mean he shouldn’t fight for her capitulation. Not that she’d give it. But if anyone was going to love something McKell did, it should be Ava. He owned her room and board. Well, maybe not board. Now, though, she couldn’t protest what he was about to do. She’d seem weak; he’d realize how close she was—no, had been—to giving in. She was stronger now. Really.

The woman reached him, and he tugged her deep into the alley, his gaze detached. Ava followed, studying. The woman was taller than her by several inches, though dressed just as plainly in jeans and a white T-shirt. She had blond hair, cut to frame her pointed chin. Sharp cheekbones, a blade of a nose. Pretty, in an aristocratic kind of way.

Did McKell favor that kind of look?

“You shouldn’t come when a man summons you,” Ava snapped at her. Just to be helpful, as she often was. It had nothing to do with raging jealousy. “That kind of makes you a dog.”

The woman paid her no attention. “Hi,” she said to McKell, her voice sultry and inviting. “It’s nice to meet you.”

McKell backed her up against the brick wall, and Ava’s jaw clenched. “Bags,” he said.

The woman placed her bags at her feet and straightened. McKell gripped her shoulders and swung her around, so that he faced Ava. His fangs were so long they gapped over his bottom lip. They were so white they practically glittered. Ava gulped as her belly quivered.

“I’m going to drink from you, and you’re going to let me,” he said. His gaze never left Ava. “Afterward, you’ll leave me without looking back and never recall what was done.”

There was that powerful voice, washing over her, causing goose bumps to form on her skin. Her needy, sensitive, aching skin. And somehow, she knew that rubbing all over him was the only way to assuage that ache.

“Yes,” the woman said on a happy sigh. Her head tilted to the side. “Yes.”

Still McKell’s gaze remained on Ava as he descended, as those teeth sank deep, as his lips moved, as he sucked and sucked and sucked. She expected his hands—those big, gorgeous hands—to caress the woman, but his grip on her shoulders never even loosened.

Did the female taste better than Ava? Was McKell enjoying himself? She crossed her arms over her chest, and tapped her foot.

“Sometime today,” she muttered.

He growled like a caged animal.

Moonlight caressed him, and his violet eyes began to glow. So purple, so beautiful. So hypnotic, dragging her down, drowning her in waves of that neediness. The emerald swirled there, too, and became her lifeline, reminding her of where she was, who she was, who he was, and their purpose. Feeding him.

Me, me, me. My turn. He really was too beautiful for his own good, she thought, disgusted with herself. Most likely, no woman had ever resisted him. But all that superiority, all that disdain … no way. Good. Another reminder. Ava couldn’t even make things work with guys who worshipped her. There was no way she’d be able to make things work with McKell. Not that she wanted to make things work with him.