Crave The Night (Midnight Breed 12)

Led by the hand, Jordana followed after him. As her bare feet padded softly on the hardwood a pace behind his long-legged strides, she tried not to gape at the lusciousness of his naked body. Six and a half feet of muscle and gorgeous, glyph-adorned skin, all of it moving in catlike fluidity as he prowled across the room with her in tow.

Her blood warmed in her veins, and that molten pool in the center of her began to simmer all over again.

God, she really had it bad for this man.

Nathan brought her into the steam-filled bathroom, his fingers yet clamped around hers. When he opened the tall glass door of the shower, she half expected him to toss her inside and order her to attend herself.

Instead, he led her inside, bringing her under the hot spray with him.

He didn’t speak, didn’t explain. Nor did Jordana need his words. Not when his hands were tender as he began to wash her, handling her with utmost care and gentle attention.

She needed nothing more than this.

This moment.

This man.

Jordana closed her eyes as Nathan’s cleansing touch eventually turned sensual and his mouth found hers through the steam of their surroundings.

Heaven help her, she was on unsteady ground here.

She was stepping off that ledge tonight, falling too fast.

Falling too hard for a lethal, untouchable Breed male who’d promised her nothing.

She knew this, the same way she understood that if reality waited for her at the bottom of this mad leap, it was certain to break her.

17

AS THE NIGHT CREPT PERILOUSLY CLOSE TO DAWN, NATHAN REALIZED he had never been further outside of his element.

When he’d shown up at Jordana’s apartment, he hadn’t intended a full-scale seduction.

Nor had he intended to use their time in the shower together as a prelude to still another round of mind-blowing, incredible sex.

He sure as hell had not intended to find himself seated in a chair in her bedroom sometime afterward, watching over her as she slept curled up like a kitten in a nest of fluffy sheets and coverlets.

When he’d crawled out of her bed to get dressed so he could head back to the command center, he told himself it was only reasonable for him to stay awhile to ensure she was safe for the night. Once she was comfortable and resting, he would go back where he belonged.

That was hours ago now.

Night was ending soon, and if his own free will wouldn’t drag him away from her, the coming daybreak would.

Damn, how had he allowed himself to get so entangled with this woman?

When had she slipped through his defenses to become something more than a sexual itch he needed to scratch?

How did he imagine this whole thing would continue—worse, how would it ultimately end—when he had nothing to offer a woman like Jordana?

It hadn’t been empty flattery when he told her she deserved something more, someone better, than him. It had been a warning. One of many he’d issued that didn’t seem to sway her. His dark look or growled threat had always been enough to cower man and Breed alike, but not her.

Jordana Gates was nowhere near as delicate or conservative as she looked. Nothing like the pampered, fawned-upon Darkhaven female he’d often guessed her to be. Right now, he wished like hell she was.

Instead, he’d found her to be strong, unshakable. There was a roaring warrior inside her, buried deep but clawing to get out. She was unlike any woman he’d ever encountered, with her sharp, curious mind and sensitive artist’s soul. It didn’t help that she also had the face of an angel and the all-too-tempting body of a goddess.

He’d never known a need as consuming as the one he felt for this woman. And if it had been confined to purely physical hunger, that would be bad enough.

No, what Jordana stirred in him was something deeper.