Personal Demon (Otherworld 8)

Karl's voice, but disconnected from the vision, and it pulled me back into the hotel room. I was lying in the bed now, Karl stretched out beside me, his arm under my head, his face inches from mine, eyes as bright as the diamonds.

"More," I said.

He smiled. "Are you sure? You said you didn't want--"

"More. Please."

He took me back under, to the rooftop, diamonds in hand, the distant wail of a siren making my heart trip with exhilaration.

Simple chaos, but my favorite kind--that mix of danger and excitement, devoid of moral quandaries. I was certain he hadn't found the bracelet lying in the trash, but he'd been careful not to show me where it came from, letting me enjoy the aftermath without guilt.

I stepped to the edge, so close my toes rested on air. The wind caught my jacket. It rustled and billowed. A strong gust rocked me, as if tempting me to take that final step. I smiled, and backed up a few inches to crouch on the edge and survey the street below. Lights flashed to the east. Coming from the same direction as the siren? Yes. Coming this way? Hard to tell...

The lights veered around a corner.

Yes, apparently so.

A fresh surge of adrenaline, telling me to move, but I lingered another moment, casually slipping my hand under my jacket, unzipping the inner pocket. I let the bracelet slide inside onto the small pile of others nestled at the bottom.

My pulse raced as the lights came closer, but I drew it out, waiting until the last possible moment--

The memory snapped off.

"Enough?"

Karl's face was inches from mine and I could feel his breath, smell it, and it reminded me of what he tasted like, and I wanted--

"Is that enough?" he repeated, lips twitching.

"No," I said hoarsely.

"You want more?" His hands slid down my shirtfront and started unbuttoning it from the bottom. "Maybe we should get you ready for bed. In case you drift off."

There wasn't a chance in hell of that now, and he knew it, his lips curving as my breath came in short pants. As he spread my shirt, his thumbs brushed my nipples, and I moaned.

"More. Please."

His hands went back to my breasts, cupping them, nipples squeezed between his fingers.

"Oh, you didn't mean that, did you?"

I hadn't, but I wasn't complaining. I writhed, trying to get closer to him, but he locked his elbows, his hands on my breasts holding me back. His fingers plucked at my nipples, hard and rough, sending shock ripples through me.

"More," I said.

"Of what?"

"Damn you."

His lips pressed against mine, his body still held back even as I strained to get closer.

"Don't worry," he murmured. "I won't make you choose."

The room dipped into blackness again as his teeth closed on my nipple and I hesitated, torn between the two worlds, perched on a rooftop, sirens growing ever closer, and lying on a decadently soft bed, feeling his tongue teasing my breast, hand sliding up my thigh. Then, slowly, they merged into one and I was on the roof, feeling what he'd felt, that delicious chaos, while his tongue and fingers and teeth satisfied the ache and stoked the fire ever higher.

The flashing lights stopped in front of the building and I knew there was no question now. Someone had sounded the alarm.

I loped across the rooftops to where I'd left the rope--