Crimson Warrior (Onyx Assassins 3)

My leathers came off next, and the struggle would have been comical at any other moment in my life, but once the material hit the floor, my boxer briefs weren’t exactly hiding the extent of my need for her, so I turned, facing the jet on my side of the shower.

Thwack. There went her pants.

Fuck. I slammed my hands into the smooth rock wall and let the water stream down my back, digging my fingers into the small grooves of grout to keep from reaching for her.

She grunted a few times. “Screw this thing.”

My brow puckered in confusion, but I didn’t turn around to see what frustrated her. The last thing my restraint needed was an eyeful of naked Olivia. It was already hanging by a thread.

“I can’t believe the mark wore off like that,” she muttered. The floral scent of her shampoo filled the shower.

My stomach twisted for some reason I couldn’t identify. It had to be because we’d come perilously close to being caught because there was no way I was nauseated over the thought of my mark washing away. She wasn’t mine. The little ruse we were acting out was fucking with my head.

“We weren’t exactly easy on it with all that mud,” I managed to say between gritted teeth. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t see her, my imagination was having a field day picturing her behind me, soaping that soft skin.

I needed to get clean and get out of here. I shampooed my hair and put the little bottle back on the shelf next to hers, then started with the soap.

“I still can’t believe we won!” Her excitement was palpable.

“I can.” I couldn’t help but smile. Her happiness was that contagious. “You and I don’t understand words like second place.” I glanced over my shoulder at her and immediately whipped my face back toward my own jet. She was in her boy-cut underwear and a long-sleeved athletic tee, water running down the back of her bare, clean thighs.

Thighs I could still feel wrapped around my head.

My fangs descended so fast they nearly nicked my lower lip, and hunger seized my stomach. Damn it, I wasn’t thirsty. I didn’t need to feed. I craved the taste of her. The thought was enough to make me whip right back around and scrub my face again.

Craving anyone was dangerous for a vampire. It led to an unquenchable thirst, then blood madness if we didn’t satisfy the urge. Craving a female you weren’t mated to? Disastrous. Our blood was stronger than humans, but unmated vampires didn’t share blood unless it was a matter of life or death. Blood was power. Knowledge.

“I can't get this damned thing…” Olivia’s voice was muffled behind me, and I turned to see her locked in a battle with her shirt as she tried to get it over her head.

The shirt was winning, caught beneath the swell of her breasts and sticking at her elbows as she raised her arms overhead.

“I think that shirt might hand you your first defeat.” I laughed, and she stopped struggling, the sound of her sigh somehow making it through the layer of sopping-wet fabric.

“I’ve lost plenty of sparring matches to you,” she grumbled and tugged again. The shirt wasn’t budging.

“I don’t count. Comparing yourself to me in combat is just as ludicrous as me trying to outrun you. That shirt on the other hand, is giving you a run for your money.” I reached for her, then yanked my hand back. Touching her would only intensify the craving.

“You could help me, you know.”

Well, shit.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” I said in the lightest tone possible, then gripped the edges of her tight-fitted athletic shirt just under her arms—where I wouldn’t accidentally brush against her skin—and tugged.

One pull was all it took, and the shirt gave way, sliding over her bright blue sports bra. The neckline caught briefly on the pointed line of her chin before conceding defeat and sliding upward, revealing her beautiful face.

“Better?” I asked, my voice sandpaper rough.

“Sure, if you were going for handcuffs.” She rolled her eyes, but a playful smile lingered on her lips and she wiggled her hands above her head. The long-sleeved shirt still held her forearms and wrists captive between my hands.

“I've never been against a good session of light bondage.” I couldn't help but grin, even as my body drew impossibly tight. The woman had me wound and coiled like a spring, and my instincts bellowed at me to release the pressure in any way possible.

She sucked in a breath. The soft globes of her breasts rose against the material of her bra, her nipples hard and pointed against the stretchy fabric.

It’s just because she’s cold.

Maybe, but that didn’t keep me from wanting to suck those peaks between my lips and warm them with my mouth. I wanted my mouth all over her, wanted to lick the droplets of water from her skin.