Covet (Fallen Angels 1) - Page 68

Which evidently referred to Adrian's shutting his piehole.

When they got to the warehouse district, Jim put the kibosh on Ad's crap-aoke, and he'd never been so glad to work a volume button. "The building is two streets over."

"There's a parking space," Eddie said, pointing to the left.

After they ditched the F-150, they walked down a block, hung a rightie, and what do you know -  once again, timing was everything. Just as they rounded the corner, a taxi rolled to a stop in front of the door Devina had disappeared into before.

The three ducked for cover and a moment later the taxi rolled past with Devina in the backseat putting lipstick on with a compact mirror in her hand.

"She never does anything without a reason," Adrian said softly. "That's one thing you can take to the bank. Anything that comes out of her mouth is almost always a lie, but her actions...always a reason. We need to get in, find that ring and get out fast."

Moving quickly, they went over to the double doors, pulled them open, and entered a vestibule that had as much architectural nuance as a meat locker: Floor was concrete, walls were whitewashed, and the space was colder than the outside air. The only fixture it had, aside from an industrial-style ceiling light, was a row of five stainless-steel mailboxes and an intercom with a list of five names. Devina Avale was number five.

Unfortunately, the inside set of doors was secured by a dead bolt, but Jim gave it a yank anyway. "We could always wait until someone - "

Adrian walked over, grabbed the handle, and pulled one half wide without missing a beat.

"Or you could just open the f**ker," Jim said wryly.

Ad flashed his glowing palm and grinned. "I'm good with my hands."

"Better than with your vocal cords, clearly."

He hated working.

Hated spending his days taking ungrateful people around Caldwell in a taxi that smelled like whatever the last driver had had to eat. But the practicalities of life had to be met, and besides, at least the object of his affection tended to stay home during daylight hours.

There was also his ignore policy. He didn't look at his customers, refused to help with luggage, and never talked more than was absolutely necessary. It was a good way to go - especially given what his nightly pursuits had been like lately: No reason to risk triggering someone's dim memory. You never knew what people were likely to recall from a crime scene.

Another lesson he'd learned the hard way.

"How's my lipstick."

At the sound of the female voice, his hands tightened on the wheel. He didn't give a shit about what some stupid woman's mouth looked like.

"I asked you...how is my lipstick." The tone was sharper now and made his palms squeeze down even harder on the wheel.

Before she repeated the demand and he got nasty, he glared into the rearview mirror. If whatever bitch was in the back expected him to -

Black eyes grabbed him and held him as sure as if she'd leaned forward and put him in a headlock. And then he sensed her reaching into him and...

"My lipstick," she said, with deliberate, flaring pronunciation.

He did a quick check on the street ahead, which was clear to the traffic light two blocks ahead, and went right back to the rearview. "Ah...it looks good."

With a deliberate stroke of her manicured forefinger, she wiped the line of her lower lip, then pursed her mouth and released.

"You're a religious man, I see," she murmured, closing her compact.

He glanced at the cross that was glued to the dashboard. "Not my cab."

"Oh." She brushed her hair back and kept staring at him.

It didn't take long before he felt like the heater had been turned on high, and he even double-checked to see if the blower was working overtime. No. She was just a beautiful woman who was looking at him like he was something. Which happened about as often as -

"What's your name," she whispered.

Tongue-tied, and abruptly unsure of the answer, he pointed to the cabbie license that had his picture on it. Reading what was written, he said, "Saul. Saul Weaver."

"Nice name."

As they came up to the red light at the intersection, he braked, and the instant the taxi was at a full stop, he was back looking into the rear...view...mirror...

The irises of her eyes expanded until there was no white part to contrast with the dense black -  and though that should have been the kind of thing to leave him screaming, he felt like liquid orgasm had taken the place of the blood in his veins.

Pleasure soared through him, lifting him up even as he remained on the seat of the taxi, invading him even as his skin remained intact, owning him though there was no tangible leash between them.

"Saul," the woman said, her voice morphing into something that was both deep as a man's and breathy as a woman's. "I know what you want."

Saul swallowed hard and heard his voice come from a long distance. "You do?"

"And I know how you can get it."

"You...do?"

"Pull over into that alley, Saul." With that, she opened her coat, flashing a skintight white blouse that showed her ni**les clear as if nothing covered them. "Pull over, Saul, and let me tell you what you need to do."

With a wrench of the wheel, he shot into the shadows between two high buildings and threw the taxi in park. As he turned around to look at her, he was utterly captivated: However arresting her eyes were in the mirror, the rest of her more than lived up to the hype. She was...unreal, and not just because of how beautiful she was. Staring into those black pits, he was fully accepted, fully understood, and he knew without a doubt that he would find what he was seeking with her. She had his answers.

"Please...tell me."

"Come back here, Saul." The woman trolled her manicured fingers down her long neck to her cle**age. "And let me in."

Chapter 32

Not finishing was not going to be easy.

As Marie-Terese worked magic on his arousal, Vin felt like his skin was on fire and his blood was boiling and his bone marrow had turned into lightning. With every sucking draw and grabbing slide, she was sending him right to the edge, his body dangling off a precipice he was dying to fall from - and was completely unwilling to let go of. God...his self-control was killing him in the best way; his head jacked back against the pillow, his thighs rigid, his chest pumping. She was taking him to Heaven and putting him through Hell in equal measures, and he wanted it to go on forever.

But he really wasn't going to last much longer.

Lifting his head took all his strength, and when he looked down his body, he positively spasmed. Marie-Terese's mouth was stretched wide, her beautiful br**sts hanging lush and full, her ni**les brushing against his thighs -

"Oh, f**k." He lunged up and pulled her from his erection, his fingers biting into her upper arms as he struggled not to come.

"Are you - "

Vin cut her off by kissing her hard and rolling her over. Before he could stop himself, he linked his arm under one of her knees and stretched her up. He was growling, he was wild, he was -  "I need you now, Vin!" Her nails sank into his ass as she went boneless beneath him. "Shit...yes - "

Except both of them froze at the same time. Together, they said, "Condom."

Vin grunted and stretched out for the bedside table, the movement driving him even harder into her curves - and she didn't help things in the slightest by moving herself against him in a wave.

As the erotic sensation of flesh on flesh reverberated through his body, Vin lost contact with the Trojan he'd palmed, the little square flipping out of his grip like it had been taking flying lessons. "Goddamn it!"

Leaning down to the floor, his hips shifted and his c**k went along for the ride, brushing right over her hot, sweet core. With a quick jerk, he moved back, because he didn't want to lose control, and...

Man, things didn't go well on the lower level as the square played keep-away from his sloppy hand.

"Let me help," Marie-Terese said, joining the hunt.

She was the one who finally caught the pale blue prize, pushing herself up and laughing as she held it over her head. "Got it!"

Vin started laughing along with her, and in a flash, he pulled her in close, hugging her. He was still fully erect and panting to come, but he was also light and free as he grinned and she giggled and they rolled around together, messing up the duvet. The condom got lost in the process, resurfacing and disappearing by turns like a fish in the water.

Tags: J.R. Ward Fallen Angels Fantasy
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