“Don’t make me rack you. I’m a lot closer to your balls right now, buddy.”
“Well, if that’s what it takes to get you to touch them…”
She gaped at him. “You did not just go there while we’re arguing.”
“I’m a man. Of course I went there. And it’s not my fault, anyway. You’re the one who brought my balls into it first.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Yeah.” His voice dropped an octave. Not that it was his fault. Unlike him, she could eat real food and take transfusions for her blood cravings.
Since they’d started seeing each other, he’d stopped feeding from anyone other than Phoebe. And since he couldn’t see her every day, it meant that when he did get to see her, he was starving.
Like now.
Phoebe bit her lip. “I have bad news, by the way.”
“What?”
“I have to share a room with my sister in the new apartment. It’s tiny.”
That was bad news.
“But…” She jerked her chin down the street in the direction she’d been headed. “I found a hotel nearby.”
“So you did have a destination.”
“Of course. I’m not completely stupid. I am a Peters, you know? Armed with a credit card and ready to charge like a demon.” She winked. “Checked in earlier today.” She pulled the key out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Room 1452.”
“All right. I still worry about you.”
“Good, ’cause I worry about you.”
When he went to drape his arm around her shoulders, she gasped. “Is that blood?”
Too late, Urian realized he’d left a little Dark-Hunter DNA on his sleeve. “Um … maybe.”
“Yours?”
He started to lie, but she was the one person he didn’t want to lie to. “No.”
Her eyes flared with fury. “Who was she? Huh?” She shoved him back.
Now there was a place he hadn’t expected her mind to go. Stunned, he gaped at her accusation that reminded him a lot of one of Xanthia’s irrational rants. “She was a he, and he tried to kill me on my way over.” He pulled the ID out of his pocket to show it to her. Now he was twice as grateful he’d gone to the trouble of getting it. “A huge Dark-Hunter bastard.”
“Was he really six foot nine? Three hundred pounds?”
“Sounds about right. Though that was muscle weight. He had arms like tree trunks.”
“He could have crushed you!”
“Trust me, I know. I had a brother about his size. Ophie used to sit on me for hours just to piss me off when we were kids. Him and Archie both would take turns slinging me around the yard like a rag doll.”
Reaching up, she pulled his lips to hers. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get so angry. I just can’t stand the thought of you with another woman.”
“I would never do that to you.”
With a smile, she nibbled his lips. “Take me to the room.”
Urian was tempted to use his powers, but since he’d never been in the hotel before, that was a bad idea. His luck, he’d land them inside a wall or something a lot worse.
So he had to pretend he was “human.” Gah, the horror of that!
But at least she’d chosen an elegant hotel. Victorian in style, it was quaint and lush.
Urian expected Phoebe to lead him to a regular room. Instead, she’d booked the penthouse suite. While it was true that he’d grown up in a palace and a temple, they were rather cold and austere.
He’d never seen anything like the luxuries in this place. Nor lights so bright. He held his hand up to shield his eyes as they watered in protest of the giant crystal chandelier.
“Sorry!” Phoebe immediately began turning lights down or off. “I forgot how sensitive your eyes are.”
Urian rubbed his eyes as he walked around. “What is that?”
She scowled at him. “The couch?”
“Yeah. Is it a bed?”
Phoebe was stunned until she realized something. “You don’t ever stay out in my world, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. You visit here to nab a soul and then immediately leave, don’t you? You’ve never watched TV or really taken time to experience any real part of it.”
He shook his head.
Her heart broke for him. All the history he’d lived through but not experienced. Heartbroken, she reached for the remote and turned the television on.
To that, he gave her an irritated glare. “I know about TV, Pheebs. Not an idiot. They have those everywhere. Even bars.”
“Oh.” Yeah, that would be the one place he’d have spent a lot of time. Der. She should have thought of that. She felt like a fool now.
Until she thought of one thing she knew they didn’t have in a bar …
“Bet you’ve never had a Jacuzzi bath.”
“A what?”
“Yeah … a what!” Crooking her finger, she motioned for him to follow her.
She also watched the way his gorgeous blues darted around the moldings and art, as well as the wall decorations. He ran his finger down the gold flocked wallpaper to the marble bathroom, where he gasped. “Yeah, indoor plumbing.”
He cast her another droll stare.
“Okay, so you’ve probably visited a men’s room, too.”
“A few times, yeah.”
“But not this!” She plugged the tub and began to run water from the ornate faucet shaped like a swan. While it ran, she turned on music through the intercom and began to slowly peel her clothes off.
If she lived to be a thousand years old, she’d never forget the look on his face as he stood in the doorway, completely catatonic. Laughing, she approached him and hooked her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans. “Charonte got your tongue?”
Urian had no response as she slowly unzipped his pants. Her pace was excruciating. And when she dipped her hand down low to cup him, he thought he’d die on the spot. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had touched him so intimately—decades? Centuries? He knew this was all kinds of wrong. But one look in those innocent eyes and he was lost.
Laughing, she rose up to kiss him.
He cupped her face and then trailed his hands down her shoulders and over her soft skin, to her back and buttocks to press her closer to him so that he could feel her curves meld to his body. He leaned his head back as she peeled his coat off, then pulled his shirt off over his head.
Phoebe hesitated as she saw the scars that marred the perfection of Urian’s chest. She’d never seen him unclothed before. Because he’d always visited her in her room, they hadn’t dared.
But damn. While she’d known he was battle hardened, seeing it was a different story. There were fresh and healing bruises as well as scratches, all over him. Her heart wrenched at the sight. Biting her lip, she traced them with her fingertips, until she got to the Daimon mark at the center of his chest, over his heart. “Does it hurt?”
“No.”
It looked like a big bruise. One that was larger than her hand. No wonder it was so easy for a Dark-Hunter to kill them. “Do they have to pierce it in the center or just nick it anywhere?”
He tilted his head to look down at her hand. “You know, I’ve never really thought about that. Thanks, Phee, for giving me something else to worry about in a fight.”
She laughed. “Well, you do have to think about it, you know?”
“Hmmm.”
Kissing his mark, she tongued her way across his chest to his peculiar phoenix-dragon tattoo. “What’s this for?”
“My Spathi unit that I lead. The Stygian Thánati.”
“Ooo, that sounds so impressive.”
“Glad you think so.” He glanced past her to the tub. “Is it supposed to do that?”
“Do wha—” She gasped as she realized it was spilling over the edge. “Ah, crap! You distracted me!” She ran to turn the water off and grab towels to mop up the overflow.
Urian took a moment to admire the view of her bare bottom as she bent over to clean the mess. Damn, that woman had the one of the nicest asses …
Trying not to think about it, he went to help her mop up some of the water. But that was as useless as trying to resist her. The moment he was near her and his hand accidentally brushed hers, he was lost and he knew it.