Roaring Midnight (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 6)

Was this to be her life, then? Forever, until she herself was shredded into a bloody mess?

Did she truly have the strength to live like that? To fight this evil, night after night, as Chas had so bluntly described?

It's a damned lonely life being a Venator.

Her heart thudded hard, like a bell tolling a sober announcement. Realization-unpleasant and yet calming-settled over her. She closed her eyes, rested her temple against his chest, inhaled him.

She might be lonely tomorrow, next week, in a year. But she wasn't lonely now. She could think about the future later. And she would.

But for now. . .

Macey smoothed her hands over Grady's torso, up and over his shoulders. He tensed, sensing the difference in her touch, and pulled back to look down at her.

Her hand cupped the back of his neck, fingers touching the short, crisp hair there. She pulled his head down, covering his mouth with hers. His lips parted slightly in surprise, then he responded hesitantly with a tentative brush against her mouth. After a moment of reserve, he made a soft sound in the back of his throat then, as if freed from some bondage, began to devour her, pulling her up close along the length of his body. His tongue plunged deep, strong and sleek, delving and stroking. Macey sagged against him with her own low moan and kissed him back just as fiercely.

Oh yes. She wanted this. . . wanted not to think. Wanted him.

Abruptly Grady pulled away, setting her back from him. He shoved a hand through his impossibly thick, rich hair. "I don't think this is a good idea. " But his eyes told a completely different story. His breathing was rough and unsteady, and his gaze was hot and brilliantly blue. His lips were parted-not soft and puffy but chiseled and sensual.

Macey stepped closer, her hands returning to his warm chest. She could feel the outline of muscle beneath her palms, the thundering of his heart, the heat of his skin. "Why not?"

"I wasn't about bringing you here for this sort of thing. " The brogue came out so thick and lilting, Macey's knees trembled. It was a beautiful cadence, deep and musical and rough with desire.

"I know. " savior who carries the deepest taintre along

"And you're upset. You're not thinking so clearly. I'm not about to be taking advantage of that, lass. It's not my way. "

"You're not taking advantage, Grady. I kissed you, remember?" She smiled up at him, her heart swelling large and warm, certainty flooding her. His hesitance was only making her want him more, making her want to experience this with him. And no one else.

"And Macey. " He stepped back, breaking all contact with her. His gaze changed from avid to icy blue. "I'm not the sort of bloke who's fond of followin' in another's steps. That's not my way either. "

It took her a moment to pull out of her haze of desire to realize what he meant. "Chas? Oh, no. Not him. Not. . . not anyone, Grady. I'm. . . I haven't done this before. " She felt a prickle of hurt that he'd think that of her, but immediately discarded it. After all, she had been wearing an overcoat-and nothing else-this morning.

"No?" He still appeared wary, still kept space between them. "Then I'm sure as hell it's not a good idea. "

"Is that so?" A sudden, wild combination of boldness and affection for him coursed through her, and she swiftly unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. She felt his attention settle at the widening vee of her shirt, and he stilled. The second button came undone beneath her nimble fingers, then a third. Now a good portion of her Simington's corset showed, along with a hint of cleavage.

"Macey. " Grady sounded strangled.

She merely slanted a hot, meaningful look up at him. Holding his gaze, she slipped out of her shoes. Then bent slowly and carefully to roll the flesh-colored stocking down over her left leg, then tossed it away.

"Wait. " His voice lashed out. She looked up at him in surprise. But his eyes were a glittering midnight blue again. "Let me do the other. "

Heart pounding, Macey rested her right foot on the seat of a chair, her knee bent. Grady's elegant fingers were steady and sure as they slid up along the length of transparent silk. Then, curving his hands around her thigh, just beneath the hem of her skirt, he flipped loose the garter and began to ease the stocking over her knee.

Macey's breathing was unsteady, and her whole body had been shocked alive. His touch was warm and erotic in the simplicity of sliding the whispery silk down her calf. She couldn't control a shiver that started in her belly and made its way down her limbs, mirroring his touch.

When he reached her foot, Grady looked up and caught her eyes as he stripped off the stocking and tossed it aside. "I've been about wanting to do that ever since you climbed into my Ford. " His voice was deep and husky.

She smiled and he curved his hand over her lifted thigh, sliding his fingers beneath the silk of her sk savior who carries the deepest taintre alongirt, and pulled her into another kiss. This one had neither tentativeness nor wild lust. But it was very thorough and filled with promise, leaving her breathless and hot.

Without warning, he lifted her into his arms and carried her effortlessly up the stairs to the second floor. Macey vaguely noticed wood paneling on the flight up, but she was more interested in unfastening as many buttons of his shirt as she could get to, and tasting the warm skin of his neck and jaw. His hair smelled as good as the rest of him, and it was silky and soft against her cheek and beneath her fingers. The opening of his shirt revealed smooth skin several shades darker than her own, and the hint of dark hair and sleek muscles.

In the bedroom, Grady released her, and she slid down his long body then stepped back. The bed was just behind him, sunshine spilling over the wrinkled but pulled-up bedclothes.

He looked down at her, question in his eyes. Macey's response was to reach for his vest and begin unfastening the three buttons there. He sank obligingly onto the edge of the bed, settling his hands over her hips. She wasted no time and flung the vest away, then his shirt. Beneath was that sleeveless white undershirt which fit like a second skin, showing smooth biceps, square shoulders, and the outline of his solid, flat pectorals.

Macey swallowed h