Page 6 of Embrace Me Darkly

“Your pulse beats with the passion of a warrior. Is there anything that scares you?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “But not you.”

He pulled away, and she gave a soft moan of protest that changed quickly to a gasp when she saw the intensity of his gaze, full of heat and need and, strangely, gratitude. “Luke?”

She could still taste his name on her lips when he swooped in, finally claiming her mouth with his, the bruising kiss wilder and deeper than she’d anticipated. A kiss she could get lost in. And right then, she desperately wanted to get lost.

At first, his touch had seemed cold. Her own nerves, she assumed, but he was like fire against her now, their combined heat flowing through her as if they were twined together in flames.

He drew away, and she whimpered in protest, silenced only when he took her hand and tugged her though the door to the Ladies Room. He caged her against the door, keeping it firmly closed as his mouth claimed her again and one hand grappled to untuck her silk tank. She used one of her own hands to yank it free, the other to cup the back of his head, silently urging him to kiss her harder. Deeper.

He took her wrists, thrusting them above her head and pinning her against the door so that she was helpless against the onslaught of sensations that crashed over her as he played her like a fine instrument. He used only one large hand to hold her wrists, and with his other, he teased her breast, then slid his fingers slowly down until he was inching up her skirt. She’d abandoned her hose in her office before coming to the bar, and now his fingers on her bare thigh were sending her spiraling into a sweet oblivion. When he reached the elastic of her panties, she was certain she would melt right then.

She wanted this. Oh, please, yes, this was exactly the kind of celebration she’d been craving. But not here. Not pressed up against a public bathroom door. Not when she wanted to feel this man naked and on top of her, his body pressing her against her mattress as her head swam with lust and desire.

“Luke,” she whispered, fighting to get the word out as his fingertip found her slick core. “Not here. My condo’s just a block away.”

His fingers slid inside her, and the desire to grind against him and explode in his arms was so compelling she could barely resist. “Can you truly wait a block?”

“No,” she admitted, her voice raspy. “But anticipation is a potent aphrodisiac.”

“So it is,” he murmured, freeing her. He took a step back and it took all her resolve not to change her mind. To beg him to put his hands on her again. “With me,” he said as she straightened her clothes.

He took her arm, then led her back to the bar, where he tossed a crisp hundred dollar bill on the polished surface. He plucked the rose from the vase, then handed it to her, a red ribbon tied around the stem.

“I just need to say goodbye and grab my jacket.”

He’d turned to glance at the back of the bar, and now she followed his gaze to see the back door that led to the alley swinging shut, and the table he’d been watching was empty. When Luke turned to face her again, he was frowning. “I’m so sorry, Sara. I’m afraid I can’t tonight.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over the curve of her jaw. “You almost made me forget,” he whispered, the words full of wonder.

With any other man, she might have believed it was a brush-off. A lack of nerve. But not with him. He wanted her as desperately as she wanted him; of that much, she was certain. Quickly, she grabbed a napkin and the pen from the tray with the bill, then scribbled her address and phone number. “No pressure,” she whispered, pressing the napkin into his hand. “But I hope to see you at my door.”

His fingers curled around the napkin, and for a moment she thought he was going to give it back. Then he flashed a small, sad smile before sliding the napkin into his pocket. “I want nothing more than to stay with you, but I cannot.” He took a step away, then stopped.

Slowly, he turned to face her again. “Be careful, Sara Constantine. There are things in the world more dangerous than the likes of Xavier Stemmons.”

ChapterThree

Sara watched as the door swung shut behind Luke, fighting the disappointment that swelled within her. She told herself it didn’t matter. That she probably wouldn’t see him again. After all, he’d been watching her for ages, but now that he had a real chance with her, he’d vanished. Despite his pretty words, the odds were good he was done. Saw. Caught. Conquered.

Except he hadn’t conquered. Not really. Not yet. And although she told herself that she was naive to believe he would call her, she truly did believe it. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week.

Hopefully tonight.

“Well?” Petra whispered, meeting Sara halfway as she returned to her friends’ table.

“I’m heading home.”

“Oh?” Petra’s tone rose with her eyebrows.

“Not for that. He had to go. Some sort of appointment.”

“Okay, hold up a sec. I saw you two disappear into the back. Didn’t you—”

“Nosy much?”

“Um, yeah. Details, please. I need my vicarious smoochies, you know.”

She spoke casually, but with Petra’s touch issues, Sara couldn’t help but worry. She knew Petra had dated in the past, but she doubted her friend had ever had sex. And she definitely wasn’t dating anyone now. Not that Sara’s wild child ways were something to be emulated, but she hated the thought of her friend not making that connection.

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