Hearts of Fire
Page 8

Dru’s hand slid slowly down his chest.
“Aren’t you going to tell me to stop?” she asked.
He ought to. He needed to put an end to this before it got out of hand. But whether it was the knowledge that he was leaving or just the impossible temptation of her touch, pushing her away seemed far less urgent than usual.
Finally, he could manage an answer, though just barely. “No.”
Her fingertips skimmed over his stomach. Then she slid her hand beneath the edge of his shirt. He felt his muscles jump at the sensation, quivering where her fingers wandered as she traced them over every ridge, every angle and curve of his torso. He hated—he hated this sort of—no, hellfire, this was incredible. Especially when he felt her shiver.
“You’re so warm,” she whispered.
Her skin was cool but not cold—she felt good against him. Could it really do more harm to get a little closer? It might be his only chance. That possibility had become a lot more real a few hours ago. Dru was one of the only people besides Levi who seemed to give a damn that he might not return…and he didn’t want to kiss Levi.
One small indulgence. He could stop anytime he wanted. Right after he spent just a few more minutes enjoying the fact that this was happening outside his imagination.
Slowly, tentatively, he lifted a hand and let it brush gently over Dru’s hair, skimming over pale silk until it stopped at the small of her back. It was strange to have her so close without her mouth on his. How many times had he replayed that kiss in his head? A million? More, probably. It had been so sudden, such a shock that he’d barely been able to enjoy it before common sense—and anger—had kicked in and he’d torn away. For a while, he’d been convinced it was some sort of bad joke at his expense. But no one had ever laughed, and Dru hadn’t seemed able to forget it any more than he had.
She arched into his touch like a kitten, and he stroked her hair again, marveling at the fact that he could provoke a reaction like this in anyone, much less a beautiful woman. Dru’s eyes slipped shut, and she slid her hand around to his back, pulling him against her. He couldn’t help his short, harsh gasp when she fitted herself against him. She was long and lean, soft and impossibly feminine, her strength thrumming through her like a live wire. He wanted to take her, as her mouth lightly teased the sensitive lobe of his ear. He wanted to drag her to the floor of this church and—
Church. We’re in a church.
“Hellfire,” he growled.
“Mmm,” was all Dru said, her tongue flicking out to trace the curve of his ear. His knees nearly buckled beneath him. It took him a full minute to gather his thoughts again, and only because there was a brief pause before Dru trailed kisses down the side of his neck. Slow. Languorous. Sensual. He tried to focus on the fact that he wasn’t just overly warm now, he was becoming uncomfortably hot.
“Dru, we have to—ah.”
When her mouth fastened on the sensitive skin where neck and shoulder met, his eyes rolled back in his head. He could feel her tongue against his skin as she began to suck lightly, while the hand at his back scraped the tips of nails up toward his shoulders, then down. He tangled his hands in her hair, his body urging her on while his mouth tried to find a way to tell her to stop. He swore he could feel the eyes of those damned statues on him, watching, accusing.
He wished it were enough to make him pull back.
A thin rivulet of sweat trickled down his forehead. So much heat.
“Dru,” he said again, but it came out sounding more like a hiss. Her hand slid down to cup his ass, and he lifted into her instinctively. Immediately, his mind went blank. There was only the wonder of friction as she shifted her hips, the teasing promise of his rigid c*ck pressed against her lower belly. He found himself swamped by the sort of need and want he’d always scoffed at. He faintly heard a harsh breath, then another. Somewhere in the recesses of his dazed mind, he realized it was him.
More. Now.
So this was what his brothers joked about, chased after, fixated on. No wonder, he thought dazedly. No wonder.
He wrapped Dru’s hair around his fist and tugged her head back, catching a brief, wild flash of her eyes and fangs before bringing his mouth down on hers. She tasted like a slice of long-forgotten heaven, of dark chocolate and ripe berry. Dru made a soft, broken sound in the back of her throat as she wrapped herself around him, threading her fingers through his hair while he swept his tongue inside her mouth, savoring, claiming. The control she wore like a cloak deserted her, and the triumph he experienced was primal. One hand stayed in her hair, holding her in place while he ravished her mouth. The other roamed roughly over her back, her waist, and finally, after a split second of hesitation, one small, perfect breast. She arched into his hand with a soft cry, filling his palm, and he cupped it, kneaded it roughly when her gasps told him she liked what he was doing.
Another bead of sweat formed to drip down his face, and another. One dripped into his eye, stinging enough that he noticed. He also noticed that it was now so warm they might have been standing right in front of an open fire. Fire. Church.
He tore his mouth away just as the acrid scent of smoke drifted past his nose.
“Dru. Fire,” he stammered.
“Fire,” she repeated on a sigh, her eyes far-off and hazy as they opened. They sharpened as soon as they saw the panic in his eyes. A tendril of smoke drifted past her face. “Fire?”
“We have to get out of here,” Meresin said. “I’m on fire.”
Chapter Six
He hadn’t run away this time, but as Dru let herself be dragged out of Church of the Angels, she wasn’t really sure that Meresin bursting into flames was a big improvement.
By the time they ran out the door and onto the small patch of grass along the side of the building, his shirt was in flames and smoke was coiling from his hair at an alarming rate. He stopped, but she kept going, plowing into him and knocking him to the ground. She quickly proceeded to hurl herself on top of him.
“Roll or something!” she cried, beating at what was left of his shirt. She smacked him on the top of his head a few times for good measure, too, ignoring it when he let loose with a string of curses and threw his hands up to block her.
“It’s out, Dru, it’s fine, it’s—for the love of—stop hitting me!”
She paused, straddling him with one arm raised for another blow. He stared up at her, eyes wide and glowing, fangs bared. Though the adrenaline was still pumping through her system, she managed to restrain herself and slowly lowered her arm. Once she’d done that, Meresin stopped shielding his head. It gave her a better view of his glare. With his dark, severe beauty and bared fangs, he reminded her of an idealized version of Dracula.
Or a sleek, sensuous, seriously pissed-off cat.
“Don’t look at me that way,” she snapped. “You were on fire! Why were you on fire? Who just spontaneously bursts into flames when they’re—” She stopped short as she realized the implications. “Oh. You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you couldn’t…um…”
She didn’t even want to finish the sentence. Leave it to her to pick the one guy on earth who was physically incapable of intimacy. Why did this not surprise her? And she’d been the aggressor in there, at least at first. No wonder he hid from her! She probably came off as some kind of horny she-beast, and lethal besides. She was about to start apologizing again when she noticed she was shaking. Or rather, the guy underneath her was.
Dru could only stare down at Meresin, stunned as she watched him give in to throes of near-silent laughter, emitting a soft sound every now and then as his whole body vibrated with mirth. With a huge grin and his eyes squeezed shut, he barely looked like himself, she thought, a slow, uncertain smile curving her own lips. He managed to half open his eyes once to peer up at her, but that seemed to be too much for him when another wave of laughter took over. If she hadn’t been parked on top of him, she was pretty sure he would have been rolling around on the ground.
The switch from sultry to adorable was as disconcerting as it was fascinating.
“What?” she finally asked. “How am I funny? You’re the one wearing the used-to-be-a-T-shirt that smells like barbecued cotton.”
He wiped his eyes—which she watched incredulously—before getting a handle on things well enough to answer.
“It’s just…this isn’t exactly how I expected tonight to work out.”
“On fire and avoiding my fists, you mean?” Dru asked. “I don’t know what your problem is. This is everything I dreamed of and more.”
He chuckled, and there was a softness in the way he looked at her that she’d never seen before. She wished it would last, though she knew how unlikely that was. It had taken pretty extenuating circumstances to bring it out in the first place. All she could do was try to enjoy it while it lasted. It occurred to her that their position, with her straddling his chest, might not be the best way to avoid another incident. The heat where their bodies pressed against one another was tough to ignore. As was Meresin’s continuing interest.
“I’ll just let you get up,” she said, “before you turn into a fireball.” She shifted to one side, but he grabbed her h*ps with surprising force, stopping her. She had to brace her hands on his chest to keep from flopping awkwardly to one side. Instead, she got another reminder of just how hard the body beneath hers was. Everywhere. Beneath her fingers, she could feel the steady rhythm of his heart. Meresin was still a mystery to her, but right now, he seemed so much more reachable. Touchable. She wanted so badly to stroke the pale, smooth skin that the charred holes in his shirt had exposed. “You’re tempting fate,” she told him. And fire wasn’t the only thing he was risking by keeping her here.
“Dru, if touching you was the problem, this would have happened the first time.” Meresin wasn’t laughing anymore, but the bemusement in his voice remained. When his words sank in, the relief nearly had her melting into him all over again. She didn’t want to be responsible for incinerating him…and she could admit, at least to herself, that she didn’t want touching him to be off-limits. It mattered. A lot.
“Okay,” she finally said when he didn’t offer any further explanation. Actually, he seemed perfectly content just laying there with her looming over him. She wasn’t exactly content hanging out like this, but she didn’t want to be anywhere else. “What just happened, then?”
His look turned sheepish, which she found strangely endearing. She’d discovered more about him tonight than she had in the past two years, pleased and irritated all at the same time.
I should have set him on fire a long time ago.
“Breaking ancient rules in the house of the one who made them isn’t the best idea,” Meresin said. “I haven’t been in a church in so long that I just…forgot.”
Dru stared at him. “The rule is that you don’t hook up in church or God smites you, and you forgot?”
“It isn’t something that’s ever come up,” he replied. He watched her steadily, every trace of humor now gone. She was sorry to see it vanish, though the anger he usually carried with him was also nowhere to be seen. Instead he seemed…watchful, she decided. Solemn. Something fundamental had shifted between them tonight.
And though she wasn’t sure he was aware of it, he was also rubbing distracting little circles around her hipbone with his thumb. The casual intimacy of the gesture made it difficult to focus on anything but this moment and the desire that threatened to push every ounce of her control and better judgment out of the way.
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and peered down at him. He was so damned beautiful. It was as though he’d been created to her exact specifications, a walking, talking fantasy. There had been a time when she’d felt that way about Caius, too, she reminded herself. But he’d been fair, a golden prince of a vampire, his outer light concealing an inner darkness that nothing could penetrate. Meresin looked just like what he was: walking, talking sin.
There was something to be said for truth in advertising.
I know what he is, at least. I can’t get hurt if I’m being realistic about this.
Justin was right. She was so full of shit.
“You sobered up awfully quickly,” Meresin said, his violet gaze never leaving her face. The comment caught her off guard. He couldn’t know what she was thinking about, could he? She hoped not. The Fallen were frustrating enough without some kind of secret hidden mind-reading abilities.
“Why do you say that?” He was right, she realized. Her drunken haze had cleared without so much as a lingering headache. It surprised her, even knowing that vampires metabolized alcohol far more quickly than mortals did. Then again, the adrenaline rush had probably gone a long way toward speeding up the process. She ought to be glad…except she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be thinking clearly right now. Or maybe she was just sorry to be robbed of any excuses for staying right where she was.
“You brood,” he said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Like your brother.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I do not!”
“Yes you do. You’re just louder about it,” Meresin replied. He sighed, a wistful ghost of a smile on his lips, and then slowly slid his hands from her hips. She saw the regret in his eyes before he glanced away from her. “I think…it’s time I go. Entertaining though this has been.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Dru said, pushing him back down when he started to rise. He fell back and then lay there, looking up at her with an almost comically puzzled expression on his face.