Banshee Seduction (Montgomery's Sin Book 1) (14 page)

Well, his inner dragon was going to have to find some great way to apologize to the half banshee, because not only had she just had the hottest goddamned orgasm in the world, but whether she understood it or not, she had bathed him in fire. Flames had licked over him as she came apart in his arms, almost driving him to his own sweet release.

He rubbed his hand over the spot where she’d burned his heart.

When he eventually mated with her, they were going to make pyrotechnics together. But right now, he guessed he was going to have to leave her to get over her post-orgasmic snit.

He glanced back at her apartment door as he clicked it shut behind him. If she ever got over her snit. Shit, she’d been angry. He’d never seen a woman flounce with quite so much superiority, and the magnificent choir in his head had screamed in fury, howling and spitting, making the dragon fear for his sensitive hearing. He grinned. But she hadn’t made his brain bleed.

Nope, her punishment had been to leave him unsatisfied. Heat still raged in his belly, giving him stomach cramps.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, trying to decide whether to go back up again.

No. He needed to give her time.

He let himself out of the building, ensuring the door closed securely behind him this time. He turned around and almost knocked over a man passing by.

His automatic, “Sorry,” was met with narrow, myopic eyes. Before he could say more, the short man dashed off, disappearing around the corner as though he was being pursued by the devil himself.

With a heavy sigh, Matt turned in the opposite direction, trying not to look too much like a churlish teenager as he dragged his feet. He stopped. Sniffed. He thought he’d caught a sharp whiff of swampland, but when he tested the air, all he could smell was Ginny. She filled his senses. Her taste settled on the back of his tongue. His pulse slowed; his blood thickened. He needed to think of something else.

“Fuck. Wolf, you nearly broke my shoulder. You fucking maniac.”

Matt glared past the visor into the surprised silver eyes of their quarterback and gave him a hard smack to the solar plexus. The guy never moved, never even had the decency to roll with it. Despite the padding, he should have felt the force of Matt’s punch, but the guy was an animal. Matt never even gained the satisfaction of a small puff of breath coming from Wolf’s helmet.

“You’re getting soft in your old age. And since when did you start to use the F-word?”

“Fuck. The word is fuck, and I’ve always used it. You’re mistaking me for Daniel.” He turned to walk away, but the younger man pursued him across the field.

Matt tried to wrench his helmet off, but it had been fitted too tight, and the effort was all too much. With a snort of disgust, he gave up and lengthened his stride toward the sidelines, trying to shake off his stalker.

“Woman trouble?”

“Nope.”

“Yeah, I bet. The curvy one you were with the other night? Looks hot as hell.”

Matt stopped dead in his tracks, and the younger guy plowed into his back. He might not be as tall as Matt, but his solid form almost bowled him over. A feral growl came from Wolf’s drawn-back lips as Matt whirled on him, grabbed him by the shirt, and hauled him up close. “Mine.” He allowed his inner dragon to snarl past the man, at the gray wolf within the helmet.

“Shit, Matt. Chill, man. I was only yanking your chain.”

“Stay. Away. She’s mine.”

“I heard. I heard you the first time.”

Matt glanced at his hand. His fingers had elongated into claws, and small green scales formed on the back of them.

“Get a hold of yourself, Matt.” Wolf lowered his voice to a whisper. His silver eyes gave off an ethereal glow from behind his visor; his fangs glimmered bright white. Matt’s fury left him in a rush.

“You too.” Matt slammed his hand in a faux-friendly pat on Wolf’s helmet, almost pounding the guy into the ground.

“Is there a problem?”

Calmer, Matt turned to face Daniel. There was something about his agent’s demeanor that spoke of more than the mild façade he exposed. The guy should have been a quarterback himself. His suit did little to disguise the width of his shoulders, the breadth of his chest.

“No problem, Daniel.” Matt turned, smashed the side of his fist against the top of Wolf’s helmet again, and thrilled at making the shorter guy’s knees unexpectedly give. He almost laughed behind his grille, but as it might ratchet the whole incident up a notch, he thought better of it. “We’re okay, aren’t we, bud?”

“Sure thing, dude.” The uppercut caught him under the ribs, shooting the breath out of his lungs so Matt almost blew Daniel over with the volley of fire from his lips.

Wolf howled in appreciation as he pounded Matt’s back with his fist. Daniel looked decidedly unimpressed.

“If you kids have finished, I could do with a word, Matt.” The dry tone of his agent’s voice convinced Matt their fun was over. He rubbed his chest and felt the ache there. At least Wolf had distracted him for a short time.

Matt removed his helmet, finding it surprisingly easy when he wasn’t trying to wrench it off his head. He rubbed his hand through his sweat-soaked hair and scratched at his scalp. It had been a good practice, despite the near fistfight he’d gotten into—or maybe because of it.

A flash of white caught his attention as Daniel strode off in the opposite direction toward the sidelines. Strange. Matt leaned over, scooped up the large white feather, and pondered what the hell kind of bird had feathers that big. White. Pure white.

He glanced ahead at his agent and broke into a trot to catch up, slipping the feather under his shirt to tuck it into the waistline of his shorts. The banshee might like it. Girls liked shit like that.

Daniel walked by his side, silent and calm, and when they reached the bench, he handed him a bottle of water as they both sat. Without stopping for breath, Matt downed the entire contents and then wiped the back of his hand over his mouth while he waited for Daniel to tell him why he was there.

“I came to remind you about the event you have tonight.”

His mind went blank. What damned event? He’d planned on stalking the curvaceous one. He heaved a sigh and gave Daniel a disgusted look. Daniel flexed his jaw in an obvious attempt not to grind his teeth.

“It’s been on your calendar for three months. You can’t miss this one; it’s a big charity event.”

Goddammit, he hated charity events. Some slick woman married to a billionaire would demand money from middle-class people, when, if she donated the fucking bracelet on her wrist she’d bought to wear to the event, it would save a third-world country.

He glanced at his watch. “What time do you need me?”

“It starts at seven thirty, but at a push, you don’t need to be there until nine if you don’t want to eat with them. You’re the main event.”

“Nine?”

He could do it. That would give him time to go and grab a handful of the lush one and persuade her he was sorry for whatever misdemeanor she believed him capable of. It wasn’t his fault he’d sent her up in a ball of flames. He grinned. Yeah, it was.

“Yeah. In Washington.”

He whipped his head around in Daniel’s direction. “DC? That’s a fucking four-hour drive.”

“Uh-huh. Washington, DC.” Daniel gave him a firm poke in the shoulder; his normally straight lips quirked. “And your English is deteriorating.”

“It fucking isn’t. Why am I going to DC?”

“Because you agreed to—and it’s in your contract.”

He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. Okay, he would not be seeing Ginny tonight. Maybe tomorrow. If Daniel didn’t have any other ideas.

“So, any plans to sell my soul to the devil tomorrow night?”

Daniel paused, tilted his head to one side as though seriously contemplating the matter, and Matt squinted a sideways look at him. “No. It’s not my area, and I would definitely not consider the selling of souls. It’s a very dangerous thing to do. You simply never get it back.”

Dumbfounded, Matt gaped at his friend. “I was kidding.”

Daniel studied him for a long moment, his topaz stare direct and intense. He lifted his finger and poked Matt again, this time in the chest. “Don’t kid about your soul—and never agree to sell it.” He stood, twisted his head one way and then the other as he scanned the field. “I’ll pick you up at four. Be ready. Black tie.”

Matt sighed and watched Daniel walk away. For a straight-up sort, Daniel sure knew how to act weird on occasion.

He stared out over the field, watched the players go through their routines, and leaned back against the hard seat. He’d phoned the library a few times and was told she wasn’t there, but Pearl had cooed down the line at him, and he wasn’t willing to risk another call.

He glanced at his watch. The face was smashed. Goddammit, he never wore a watch during practice. He must be losing his mind.

He sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees. He needed a plan because the longer he left the banshee to seethe, the worse it was going to be. What the hell did men do when they upset their women? He’d never noticed upsetting anyone before, except Emma, and he hadn’t really cared. Except when she’d tried to lance him with the dagger. What had she said when she launched herself at him? Yeah. He’d never bought her so much as a single flower.

He leaped to his feet. Flowers. That’s what men did. They sent flowers.

With hope in his heart, he headed in the direction of the locker room and his cell phone. Flowers. That would put it right.

•●•

She’d resisted. For two hours she’d resisted.

The book she read didn’t suit her mood, so she flung it onto the sofa, headed for the kitchen, and grabbed a tub of chocolate-chunk fudge ice cream.

The battered heart she thought firmly lodged in her chest shot into her throat and almost killed her as she kicked the freezer door closed and was greeted by the sight of a six-feet-two vampire, dressed in black leather.

“Roni, for God’s sake, will you stop doing that to me?”

Her friend grinned, bright red lipstick making her teeth an unnatural white. “Gimme a steak.”

Ginny yanked open the refrigerator door. “Help yourself.”

Roni leaned in, her long, sleek, red ponytail slid over one shoulder as she contemplated the contents of the fridge, and then reached for a T-bone steak. As she knew exactly what she would select, Ginny already had a plate and silverware ready to hand to her. Unable to muster up much enthusiasm though, she turned her back and wandered through to her living room to slump on the sofa. Hollow inside, it took her a moment to flip the lid off her ice cream and stare with blank numbness into the tub.

“What’s wrong?” Roni folded her long, slender form into the armchair opposite, her dark eyes filled with concern.

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

The vampire paused and then forked a dainty piece of raw steak into her mouth, chewing it before she answered. “The tub of ice cream.” She waggled her fork at her. “The pajamas.” She nodded her head in the direction of the sofa. “The miserable book.”

Ginny huffed out a laugh. Only a good friend would know and understand. She spooned a huge lump of ice cream into her mouth and then had to wait a moment for the brain freeze to clear. The roof of her mouth numbed, and her tongue refused to defrost. Even the voices in her head froze.

Roni smiled, her eyes sly as she ate another piece of meat. “I thought you might have arranged to meet The Dane.”

Ginny contemplated her friend for a moment while she defrosted. “What would make you think that?”

Roni shrugged and grinned some more. “Pearl.”

“Pearl has a big mouth.”

“No. Not really.”

With a gasp, Ginny stared at Roni and then flapped her spoon at her. A small sliver of ice cream flew off and landed on her own knee. “You used your powers.”

“Well…”

“You did. You read her mind.”

“Pearl’s such a pea-brain—it was too easy to see what was inside her head.”

“You shouldn’t do it. It’s not ethical.”

Roni stuck another piece of steak in her mouth, looking decidedly like a sulky kid. “I couldn’t help it. She was like an open book. A preschooler’s open book.”