“I’d rather eat you up.”
Her gaze shot to his gorgeous brown eyes. She could tell that what he said held some significant sexual innuendo, just by the way that he said it. But the meaning escaped her.
“Damn, Gaby, you’ll be the death of me.” He trailed a finger along the curve of her breast, down to her nipple. He circled it once—and his hand dropped away. His eyes closed, his jaw locked, and then he firmed his resolve. “I have to go.”
Of course he did. Now that he had her heart pumping too hard again. Jerk. “So then why are you bothering me? Go.”
He cupped the back of her head and his voice gentled. After several heavy beats of silence, he asked, “You okay?”
“What do you care? You have a job to do—go do it.”
His palpable irritation struck her. “I care, and you know it.”
“Then stay and finish what you started.” She knew he wouldn’t. She knew he couldn’t. But, damn it, she didn’t really care about his problems at the moment.
Pained, he dropped his hands and stepped back from her. “Ann is waiting in her car.”
Some strange emotion that felt too much like jealousy took a bite out of her pride. Gaby shoved him back several feet, using more strength than she meant to. “Then fucking go to Ann! Damn you, Luther. Nobody asked you to hang around anyway!”
“You did.”
“Well I take it back.”
So quickly that she didn’t have time to think about it, Luther jerked her through the doorway and slammed her to the wall. One of his pants-clad legs came between her naked thighs, his chest pinned her. And then his mouth was on hers, kissing her hard and deep, giving her just a small taste of what she so desperately wanted and needed.
Gaby considered leveling him.
It’d be so easy to make him hurt the way she was hurting. But she held back.
That kiss of his . . . it robbed her of spiteful intent, and instead ignited new fires.
Easing up, his mouth still touching hers, Luther whispered, “Please be here when I get home. I promise that I’ll make it up to you.”
Before she could answer, he kissed her again, his tongue in her mouth, his hot breath on her cheek. It was wonderful and scorching, and it melted her temper.
“I swear, Gaby, I’ll be thinking of you every second that I’m gone, and that’s dangerous. So tell me you’ll be here.”
Lying never fazed her. Gaby did what she had to do when she had to do it. But right now, feeling Luther pressed to her, she didn’t have enough wits to consider a more prudent reply. “I don’t know if I’ll be here or not.”
Fury took him two steps from her.
Not that Gaby gave a damn about his anger issues.
“Look, Luther, the truth is I have some stuff that I have to do.” She rolled a bare shoulder, cocked her hip, and crossed her arms. “I don’t know how long it’ll take me. Might be a few minutes, might be all night.”
His gaze burned.
Outside, Ann laid on the horn, causing Luther to curse. He ran a frustrated hand through his brown hair.
“What?” He narrowed his eyes in demand. “What do you have to do that’s so important?”
Gaby enunciated “Stuff” in a way guaranteed to annoy. But how could she clarify more than that when she didn’t yet know herself what had to be done?
His jaw worked, he breathed hard, and then, very slowly, he smiled.
An evil smile.
God help me. But, as usual, God ignored her, leaving her to palpitate over what Luther planned.
Leaning in close to her, he breathed in her ear at the same time that his hand pressed between her legs. “When I say that I want to eat you—that means my mouth on you, Gaby.” His hand pressed against her. “Here.”
A shock of sensation ran over her.
His tongue touched her ear and stole her breath. “Everything I do to your mouth, the way I lick with my tongue, the way I suck on your tongue . . . ”
She swallowed and said, “Yeah?”
“That’s what I’ll do to you here—” His fingers toyed with her, long enough to send her need skyrocketing, too briefly to give her any satisfaction.
He leaned away, removed his hand, and left her wanting.
Deadpan, he said, “But I can’t if you’re not here when I get back.”
Knowing what he’d done to her—and why he’d done it—sent fury erupting to the surface. Blind with rage, Gaby swung at him, but he ducked and the momentum turned her so that he caught her back to his chest.
“Easy now.” His whisper held amusement.
“You miserable fucking jerk!” She considered maiming him. “It wasn’t enough to leave me wanting you. No, you had to go and amp it up.”
“Take what you feel, multiply it by a hundred, and that’s what I’m suffering, too.” His lips teased her ear as he spoke softly to her. “Be here when I return, and we’ll both get some relief.”
“Fuck you.”
His sigh was long and filled with frustration. “If you’re going out, do you need any money?”
Her spine snapped straight so fast that it hurt. Without thinking it through, Gaby stomped his foot, and when his hold loosened, she brought her elbow back hard into his midsection.
He wheezed—and released her so he could fold in on himself.
Breathing hard and nearly blinded by her pride, Gaby spun around to face him. Through her teeth she ground out, “I will never, ever take money from you.”
One hand rubbing his ribs, his expression a mix of pain, anger, and resignation, Luther slumped back against the wall. “You could have just said no.”
Well, yeah . . . she could have. Gaby eyed him, saw she’d truly hurt him, and wilted.
Now feeling guilty, Gaby reiterated, “I don’t need your money.”
“You have your own?”
“Yes.” Oh God, now he was going to ask her how she got money. Gaby waited, her brain churning for possible explanations other than the writing and drawing of a popular underground graphic novel.
But all Luther said was, “Good. But, Gaby, if you ever do need anything, I hope you’ll come to me.”
And with that, he turned and went down the stairs and out the front door. Before closing the door behind him, he said, “Remember to lock up when you leave. You can take a spare key from the basket on top of the refrigerator.”
Gaby stared down the stairs at the closed door.
Why did he have to be that wonderful? So macho but so caring, so capable and still pure of heart.
She didn’t deserve him, but she wanted him. And he wanted her.
Then she thought of that small child she saw in her drawing. The kid was still safe, for now. If the child had been in imminent danger, duty would have sent her for it.
She had to believe that.
Gaby thought of a person vile enough who, for twisted reasons unfathomable to the sane, would want the child. It sickened her, but she feared that the same bloodsucker who had already been at work draining others now wanted the child for nourishment.
Maybe taking a child was easier than capturing an adult. Maybe a kid would be more resilient, quicker to heal if the maniac wanted a reliable blood resource.
Somehow, starting right now, she’d find that kid and protect her.
And then she thought of Luther’s request. A shudder passed through her, filling her with equal parts dread and longing. He had a terrible hold on her.
And God help her, she prayed she’d be home when he returned.
The body, long ago quartered into more manageable hunks and stored in a refrigerator, offered nothing more to him.
After the awful intrusion into his domain, a primitive building used only for the delectation of his prodigious appetite, he’d been able to salvage only a portion of the last sacrifice.
The rest of the body had been stored in an industrial refrigeration system in the basement. Soon it would be discovered by the intruders.