The female was standing in the shadows at the end of the bar, the pink and blue glow from the backlit liquor bottles barely illuminating her. Tall and built hard as a man, she had supershort dark hair and a don't-fuck-with-me face that announced loud and clear that you screwed with her at your own risk. Her eyes were lethally smart, fighter-serious and… leveled on him.
His body went into instant flip-out, like someone was buffing his skin to a high shine while spanking him with a two-by-four: He was instantly breathless and dizzy and flushed, but at least he forgot about his headache.
Sweet Jesus, she was coming over.
Her walk was one of power and confidence, like she was stalking prey, and men who weighed more than her got out of her way quick as mice. As she approached, John fumbled with his windbreaker, trying to make himself look more masculine. Which was such a joke.
Her voice was deep. "I'm security at this club, and I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."
She took his arm without waiting for a reply and led him into a dark hallway. Before he knew what was happening, she pushed him into what was obviously an interrogation room and nailed him to the wall like a velvet Elvis.
As her forearm pushed into his windpipe and he gasped, she patted him down. Her hand was fast and impersonal as it went over his chest and down to his hips.
John closed his eyes and shuddered. Holy shit, this was a turn-on. If he'd been able to get an erection, he was quite sure he'd be hammer-hard right now.
And then he remembered that Blay's unmarked gun was in the big back pocket of the pants he'd borrowed.
Shit.
In the equipment room at the compound, Jane sat down on the bench that would let her see the guy she'd operated on. She was waiting for V to finish his cigarette, and the faint whiff of his exotic tobacco tingled in her nose.
God, that dream of him. The way his hand moved between her-
As an ache started, she crossed her legs and squeezed them together.
"Jane?"
She cleared her throat. "Yes?"
His voice was low as it drifted through the open door, a sensual, disembodied drawl. "What are you thinking about, Jane?"
Oh, yeah, right, like she was going to tell him that she was fantasizing-
Wait a minute. "You already know, don't you?" When he was silent, she frowned. "Was that a dream? Or did you…"
No reply.
She leaned forward until she could see him through the jamb. He was exhaling while he tucked the butt into a bottle of water.
"What did you do to me?" she demanded.
He screwed the cap on tight, the muscles of his forearms flexing. "Nothing you didn't want me to."
Even though he wasn't looking at her, she pointed her finger at him like it was a gun. "I told you. Stay out of my head."
His eyes flipped to hers. Oh… God… they were burning white as stars, hot as the sun. The instant they hit her face her sex bloomed for him, a mouth opening wide, ready to be fed.
"No," she said, although she didn't know why she bothered. Her body spoke for itself, and he damn well knew it.
V's lips lifted in a hard smile, and he breathed in deeply. "I love your scent right now. Makes me want to do more than just get in your head."
Okaaaaaaay, evidently he liked women in addition to men.
Abruptly his expression faded. "But don't worry. I won't go there."
"Why not?" As the question popped out, Jane cursed herself. If you told a man you didn't want him, and then he said he wouldn't have sex with you, generally the reaction you wanted to lead with was not something that sounded like a protest.
V leaned in through the door and chucked the water bottle across the room. The thing landed in a trash bin with a decisive flare, as if it were returning home from a business trip and damn relieved to be back. "You wouldn't like it with me. Not really."
He was so wrong.
Shut up. "Why?"
Shit! For the love of God, what was she saying?
"You just wouldn't like it with the real me. But I was glad for what happened when you were sleeping. You felt perfect, Jane."
She wished he would stop using her name. Every time it left his lips she felt like he was reeling her in, dragging her through waters she didn't understand into a net she could only thrash about in until she hurt herself.
"Why wouldn't I like it?"
As his chest expanded, she knew he was smelling her arousal. "Because I like control, Jane. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"No, I don't."
He pivoted toward her, filling the doorway, and her eyes went right to his hips, traitors that they were. Holy shit, he was erect. Fully aroused. She could see the thick detail of him pushing against the flannel pajama bottoms he had on.
She swayed even though she was seated.
"Do you know what a Dom is?" he said in a low voice.
"Dom… as in…" Whoa. "Sexual dominant?"
He nodded his head. "That's how sex is with me."
Jane's lips parted and she had to look away. It was either that or she was going to combust. She had no experience with that whole alternative-lifestyle thing. Hell, she didn't have a lot of time for regular sex, much less to dabble in the fringes.
Damn her, but dangerous and wild with him seemed pretty fricking attractive right now. Although maybe that was because, for all intents and purposes, this was not real life, even though she was awake.
"What do you do?" she asked. "I mean do you… tie them up?"
"Yes."
She waited for him to go on. When he didn't, she whispered, "Anything else?"
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"No."
So there was pain involved, she thought. He hurt them before he fucked them. Probably during, too. And yet… she remembered him holding Red Sox in his arms so gently. Maybe with men it was different for him?
Terrific. A bisexual dominant vampire with kidnapping expertise. Man, she shouldn't feel like she did about him for so many reasons.
Jane covered her face with her hands, but unfortunately that only kept her from looking at him. It was no escape from what was going on in her head. She… wanted him.
"Goddamn it," she muttered.
"What's wrong."
"Nothing." God, she was such a liar.
"Liar."
Great, so he knew that, too. "I don't want to feel like I do right now, okay?"
There was a long pause. "And how do you feel, Jane?" When she said nothing, he murmured, "You don't like wanting me, do you. Is it because I'm a pervert?"
"Yes."
The word just shot out of her mouth, although it wasn't really the truth. If she was honest with herself, the problem was more than that… she'd always prided herself on her intelligence. Mind over emotion and logic-driven decision making had been the things that had never let her down. And yet here she was, coveting something that her instincts told her she'd be far, far better off without.
When there was a long silence, she dropped one of her hands and looked to the door. He wasn't standing between the jambs anymore, but she sensed he hadn't gone far. She leaned forward again and caught sight of him. He was up against the wall, staring across the gym's blue mats as if he were looking out over the sea.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Yeah, you did. But it's cool. I am what I am." His gloved hand flexed, and she had a feeling it was unconsciously.
"The truth is…" As she let the sentence go, one of his brows cocked, though he didn't look at her. She cleared her throat. "The truth is, serf-preservation is a good thing and it should dictate my reactions."