Dangerous Games (Riley Jenson Guardian 4)

His eyes gleamed with heat, and desire swirled around me - a teasing, lusty aroma that had my blood racing even harder through my veins. If it was anything to go by, he would not be playing hard to get tonight.

"I heard you liked surprises," he said, a smile teasing his lush lips as he lightly touched my shoulders and leaned forward to kiss my forehead.

Not exactly the type of kiss I was hoping for.

I pulled away from his light touch, undid my bra and tossed it toward my discarded shirt. As tosses went, it was pretty lame, but at that point, I wasn't really caring.

"So is the surprise you appearing uninvited in my apartment, or have you something more interesting in mind?"

He smiled, his finger warm against my skin as he skimmed my cheek and lightly outlined my lips. I opened my mouth slightly, drawing in his fingertip, sucking on it briefly. Heat flared brighter in his dark eyes, and the sweet aroma of lust sharpened, until it felt like I was being crushed under the weight of it. But oh, what a way to go.

"I thought you might like to go out for dinner," he said, the Irish lilt in his rich voice suddenly more pronounced.

"Me eating food and you eating me?" I raised an eyebrow, a smile teasing my lips. "We could do that now, if you'd like."

Even as I said it, I skimmed my hands down the muscled planes of his chest and stomach, wishing he was naked so I could actually feel skin. When I reached the button of his jeans, I played with it lightly, one finger skimming underneath, brushing the top of the erection straining against the denim. All it would take was one quick tug of the zip, and he would be free and mine.

But before I could put thought into action, he caught my hands and brought then back up to his lips. The kiss he dropped on the top of my fingers was light, almost impersonal, and yet there was nothing impersonal about the way his gaze met mine. This vampire wanted me as much as I wanted him, and I'd be damned if I knew why he was resisting. It wasn't like either of us were new to the game of lovemaking.

And it certainly wasn't as if we were new to each other. We'd been making like rabbits for months. Well, at least up until the last few weeks, when this whole "let's frustrate Riley" mode of operation had come in.

"You're wet and cold," he said, matter-of-factly.

"My skin may be cold and I may be wet, but trust me, I'm warm where it counts." I closed the gap between us and pressed my breasts lightly against him. The silk felt so good against my nipples that I rubbed them back and forth across his shirt, enjoying the smooth coolness of the material. "Would you like to feel just how warm and wet?"

"What I would like," he said, and leaned forward to drop a quick kiss on my lips, "is for you to have a shower and get dressed so we can make our dinner reservation."

"Meaning no fun beforehand?"

"No."

"Damn."

He smiled, and my heart did another weird twist in. my chest. I'd known lots of good-looking men over the years, and many or them had great smiles, but Quinn's was in a league of its own.

"What if I promise it will be worth it? " he said.

"Dinner will only be worth it if you come as dessert."

"Maybe I will. Maybe I'm not taking you to dinner at all, but somewhere where there is no chance of interruption so I can ravish you senseless. But if you do not get ready, you will never know."

I admitted momentary defeat and stepped back. "Then I'm guessing you don't want to share the shower with me?"

"I'd love to share a shower, but I suspect it would end up being an extremely long shower."

"And there's something wrong with that?"

"Absolutely nothing." He gave me another killer smile. "Go get ready, woman."

I went. And while I usually lingered in the shower, enjoying the sting of the water jets against my skin, there was nothing leisurely about this shower. I was out and dried in record time. I waltzed naked from the bathroom and headed for the bedroom. Quinn had his back to me, staring out over the myriad of city lights so visible from our windows. But, like moths drawn to a flickering flame, our gazes met in the glass.

I stopped, and for several seconds did nothing more than stare at him. It was rare for me, that. Werewolves seldom held still for any amount of time - the energy of the beast, barely contained, was Rhoan's theory. But in this instance the urge to move had fled, consumed by the force of the vampire in front of me, lost in the emotive swirl of want and desire and something else - something that ventured close to determination and yet was a whole lot more powerful.

Then his gaze left mine and slid down my body, becoming a sensual and yet excruciatingly slow exploration that had pinpricks of sweat breaking out across my skin. And suddenly it was all I could do not to run across the room and jump into his arms. Take or be takers.

He smiled at that moment, and I knew he'd read the emotion behind the thought, if not the thought itself. Quinn was both a strong empath and telepath, and while I had mind-shields strong enough to keep most vampires out, there was something about this vampire that left my senses reeling and my defenses down.

And it wasn't just the link we'd formed to allow communication between us in psi-shielded areas. It was more - had always been more, even before we'd shared blood.