“Forty-eight hours?” she repeated, voice hushed. “No, no, that’s too long! Leo will find you again!”
Cass laughed. “I don’t think so. Not if I don’t want to be found.” His gaze slowly rose to catch hers.
Hope lit her stare. “You…you can actually hide us from him?”
“I’m not working for Leo. He won’t get you.” That was a promise.
She threw her body against his. “Thank you!”
Cass was so caught off-guard by her move that he froze. Her arms were wrapped around him. She was hugging him, and her breasts pressed to his chest. Her whole body pressed to him, and she felt warm and she smelled good and his dick was hard with desire and he wanted to hold her tight— She looked up at him. “Sorry. But, um, you said you were safe to touch and—”
His control shattered. He’d never had someone embrace him that way. Yes, she’d just been hugging him, he got that. She’d been caught up in her relief. He got that.
Cass just didn’t care.
His arms closed around her, and they tumbled back onto the bed. His gloved hands sank into the thick mass of her hair and his lips crashed down on hers. He knew he should be more careful, he should use more restraint, but…
His control had shattered. All of the needs he’d held in check for so long burst free and he had to kiss her. His mouth locked to hers. Her lips parted beneath his mouth, and her tongue swept out to meet his.
She wasn’t afraid. Wasn’t hesitant. Amber kissed him with a raw need that ignited the dark desires he’d held back for too long. Finally, someone who wasn’t afraid. Finally, someone who wanted him.
He kissed her deeper, harder. Her clothes were between them. His were in the way. He wanted the clothes gone. He wanted them to be flesh to flesh.
He. Wanted. Her.
She gave a little moan and arched up against him. Her hands raked down his back. Her nails bit into his skin. Her lips parted even more as she kissed him and he— Stopped.
Cass slowly lifted his head. His gaze met hers. His breath heaved in his chest. “What kind of game are you playing?”
She licked the lips he’d just tasted. “What?”
“You think if you act like you want me, I’ll let you go?”
Her pink cheeks darkened even more. “You’re the one who said you wanted to kiss me!”
His legs were between her spread thighs. His hands pushed down on either side of her head. He trapped her beneath him. “I’m the one who wants to fuck you.”
Her pupils definitely expanded. The gold was almost swallowed by the darkness.
“And you expect me to believe,” his voice rasped at her, “that you’re the woman who actually wants Death?” He wasn’t stupid, and this wasn’t the first time prey had tried to trick him for freedom.
“I’m the woman who’s staring up at an idiot,” she snapped.
Cass frowned.
“Get the hell off me!” Then she didn’t wait for him to comply. She shoved against him, hard. Not hard enough to move him. Maybe she was human, after all. Because she sure didn’t seem to have any paranormal strength.
But Cass moved off her. It was either move or give in to the dark lust snaking through his body. He stood by the side of the bed.
She glared up at him.
“Kissing me won’t give you freedom,” he warned her.
Her jaw dropped. Then it snapped closed. Then she was on her feet and jabbing her index finger into his chest. “You kissed me, Reaper. Get that fact straight. You. Kissed. Me. You pushed me onto the bed. You put your mouth on mine. And you were giving me a pretty good kiss—”
Wait. Had she just said only “pretty good”? He actually felt his cheeks burn.
“Then you just blew things to hell.” In apparent disgust, she threw her hands up into the air. “Do you just have no tact or no sense? Because when a woman kisses you and you act as if she’s doing it as some kind of payment or bribe…well, that tends to make a woman feel like crap.”
“I…” He was in way over his head.
“I kissed you because—and this will sound crazy, I know, given our circumstances—I wanted to see what it would be like.”
So did I.
Only, apparently, she’d just thought it was just “pretty good.” Hell. A woman like her probably kissed plenty of men. She had dozens of lovers. Men who would jump if she crooked her finger. Men who would— “Why are you growling? And are your hands fisting?”
He was growling because he was angry. No, jealous of the unknown men who’d been lucky enough to be near her. His hands were fisting because he was imagining driving his bare hand into the faces of those jerks. Death punch.
“Cass?”
He tried to get his shit together, but his mind was in chaos. The lust still rode him just as hard and his dick was about to shove right out of his jeans. He was not cooling down. “Come with me.” Then he turned on his heel and headed for the bathroom.
“What? Are you crazy? I—ah!”
He looked back and saw her stumbling forward, her right wrist out as she was pulled after him. “Five feet is the limit. I think you can stand outside of the door.”