Bound by Flame (16 page)

Silence enveloped the conference room.

Cynda waited.

“Downy’s torturing my brother,” Nick said at last, sounding distant and dangerous. “She’s got half his talisman. I think she’s cutting him, beating him, and he can’t get away. It’s not just him, either. Other Astaroths, and Cursons, too. Like the ones we slaughtered.”

He turned his face away, his jaw working.

Cynda’s breath caught hard in her throat. Tears jumped to her eyes. She hadn’t given much thought to killing the demons who attacked them on City Island, but the weight of it hit her now, and hard.

Cursons like Nick, like Creed.

He had to kill beings just like him—who probably couldn’t even help what they were doing. And even if Jake did set us up—could he stop himself? If Downy has his talisman, he
is
helpless.

No wonder Nick lost it in the gym, and just now, with his captain.

Cynda wanted to burn down the townhouse just hearing about Jake’s condition and situation, and she hadn’t seen the wounds. It wasn’t her brother caught in the trap, and she didn’t have to spend the afternoon shooting demons—
oh, Goddess, people?
—just like herself.

She was amazed Nick hadn’t blasted the roof off the whole place.

When he turned his dark, pained eyes back to her, Cynda wanted to tell him she got it now. She wanted to say something comforting, but ended up shaking her head and hoping the truth showed in her face, that she understood the horror, that she was sharing his pain.

Nick stepped forward and caught her by both arms. Rough. Almost fierce. His palms burned against her skin, and his fingers dug into her as he tried to talk.

No sound came out.

Cynda saw everything in his eyes—his grief, his apology, his desperation.

His need.

This
was Nick talking.

This
was Nick communicating, beyond anything she had expected, or even dreamed.

Her heart shouted in response, and heat surged between them, emotional and physical, golden, glowing, twining like living ropes of fire.

The day’s aches and pains and fatigue vanished.

Cynda’s clothes blazed. She let them burn, helped them burn until they fell completely away, leaving her naked for Nick’s scrutiny.

His eyes raked her face, her neck, her breasts and belly, then traced the red patch of hair between her legs. The competing emotions on his face coalesced into appreciation, then hunger.

Cynda couldn’t stop the smoke rising from every place Nick’s eyes lingered. Dizzy from the fire growing inside her, she moved closer and wrapped her arms around his neck.

As she gazed at his face, she gave herself up to the exquisite sensation of touching him, finally touching him everywhere. Her tight nipples scrubbed against his bare chest. Heat flooded Cynda from face to toes, pooling in her belly and lower, releasing a molten rush of desire.

Nick captured her mouth with his, predatory, insistent, yet soft, so soft. That jolt of wintergreen and tangy liquid flame claimed Cynda’s senses, and she moaned against his lips, welcoming the forceful caress of his tongue against hers. His hands, exploring her, stroking her arms, her sides, her hips, her ass, pulling her closer to him. Forcing her heat against his. Absorbing her fire and giving it right back, a thousand times over.

Cynda couldn’t breathe. Her heart forgot how to beat. Her thoughts turned off completely, leaving nothing but raw sensation. She had never experienced anything like this, like Nick. His touches. His kisses. From hard and fast to long and so slow and deep and wet.

Nick broke away from her mouth and stared at her with a wild intensity Cynda could barely withstand.

A question.

He was making sure
she
was sure.

“Yes,” she murmured, feeling flutters all through her body. “I’m sure.”

Her body shook as his expression turned feral. Her knees betrayed her, and Nick was catching her, sweeping her up, forcing her down, spreading her across the conference table that dominated the front of the room.

“You’re mine now,” he said in that low, stirring bass. “I’ll make you scream.”

“We’ll see,” she challenged, gratified when he started to glow.

The smooth, polished wood felt cold against Cynda’s steaming ass as Nick spread her legs and pushed his thighs between hers. She felt deliciously pinned by his possessive, merciless stare, by his muscled body. When he bent down and crushed his mouth against hers, his nipples chafed hers, and she moaned from the sensation of his iron-hard cock pressed into her swollen folds.

Cynda ached for him. Something new, something she had never known. If he took her now, he could thrust into her and hammer until dawn, and she wouldn’t stop him.

She ran her fingers through his hair, pressed his lips against hers, but he pulled back and murmured, “I
will
make you scream, firebird.”

Shock-fast, before she could react, Nick lowered his head, clamped his teeth over one nipple, and sucked it hard into his hot mouth.

Cynda cried out. Her head banged against the wooden table. Flames shot from her fingers, but Nick’s golden glow absorbed everything she threw as he nipped and sucked, then rubbed her other nipple firmly between his fingers. Each time his teeth scraped the sensitive flesh, electric bolts surged through Cynda’s entire body. When he groaned against her breast, she almost exploded on the spot.

“Nick.” She gulped air. “Please. Nick!”

He answered by sliding his hand one way, his mouth the other. Cynda felt his breath sweep across her chest, then he was licking her other nipple, sucking it, and rubbing the one he abandoned with his rough, demanding fingers.

Cynda groaned. She throbbed all over, ached between her legs so fiercely she thought she’d die. Waves of heat crashed behind her closed eyes. So fast, hurtling toward the edge and almost there
already
.

Was the ceiling on fire?

The walls, burning…

Smoke swirled through the room. Behind Nick, something crackled and popped.

“I can’t take much more,” she whispered. Barely audible. Hardly able to talk at all.

“You can.” Nick slid his free hand down and stroked her once between her legs, teasing, his fingers liquid fire on her swollen center. As Cynda bucked and moaned, he said, “You will.”

His mouth felt like heaven and hell on her skin, and his gentle nibbles made her shiver with shock and delight.

Again and again he bit her, sucked her, teased her. Fire burned through Cynda, licked back at Nick. All around them, flames and sparks danced and shimmered.

“Stop,” Cynda finally pleaded, head spinning from the heat and toe-curling pain and pleasure. “I can’t.” But even as she spoke, she thrust her breast farther into his mouth. Nick captured her nipple in his teeth and flicked the end harder, faster with his tongue.

Cynda groaned and arched forward, pressing the sensitive flesh deeper, ever deeper. She couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t stop even as she pounded her fists against Nick’s shoulders. He gathered her other breast, pressed it into the first, and sucked both nipples at the same time.

“Goddess!” she screamed. The fire built fast and thick in her belly, threatening to burst outward and consume whatever stood in its way. “I’ll burn you to death. I mean it!”

Abruptly, Nick released her breasts, and Cynda screamed all over again.

Flames shot along the conference table, circling her body, shooting higher, higher, and crashing back across her like a waterfall.

Ignoring the fire, Nick slid his lips down her belly, and lower, lower, into the pulsing heat between her legs.

Out of her mind, Cynda thrust her hands into Nick’s hair, grabbed fistfuls, and braced both feet against his shoulders.

Nick parted her lower lips with one deft move of his tongue, circling but never touching that sweet spot. Gentle strokes. Around, around, around.

Any second, he’d give her relief. She just knew it.

But he didn’t.

He held her with his big hands on her hips, her feet pressed into his shoulders, with her whimpering as he took his time, tasting, kissing, exploring every inch. The smell of scorched wood and blistered paint covered the room, and through it all, Cynda could smell her own arousal, and Nick’s, like lava about to burst into blue-hot flames.

She strained to move his mouth where she wanted it. “Bastard. Bastard!”

Nick laughed.

The rumbling sensation between her legs nearly drove Cynda over the edge. She almost ripped Nick’s hair out by the roots, cursing him, writhing against his grip—and at last, at last, he swiped his tongue across her pulsing center.

Her body took over, arching out and up, pressing her flesh into his face, his mouth, that unbelievable teasing tongue.

Nick pulled her forward, sucking her into his mouth, catching her in his lips. Then he used his tongue to stroke, stroke, stroke on the delicate nub. Cynda gulped air, desperate, moving herself against Nick’s tender assault. In and out of his mouth. His tongue tortured her, slower, then faster, relentless, endless.

Perfect.

“Don’t you dare stop.” She tugged at his hair. “I
will
kill you if you stop.”

Pieces of flaming ceiling peppered the conference table.

Nick didn’t stop.

Cynda thought she would split down the middle with the force of her orgasm.

Fire blasted through her, into her, out of her in every direction. Her mind expanded and contracted, squeezing in on itself just like her body. Curtains of flames coursed up and down her skin, joining with Nick’s golden glow—and still the man didn’t stop. Cynda thrashed.

She screamed, and screamed some more as the sensations kept coming, kept flowing. So hot. So consuming. Nothing like this. Never before. Her body couldn’t stop moving, trembling, jerking as every part of her spasmed from the pleasure, so much, almost too much.

Cynda forced herself upward, panting, still moaning, and yanked at Nick’s hair until he stood. His hair fell loose around his shoulders. She could barely see his grin through the smoke as she slid her hands down his belly, into those thick, curly short hairs. Not wanting to wait another second, she wrapped her fingers around his cock.

Big. Ooooh, yes. Thick, hard, ready, and she wanted him inside her right now. Five minutes ago.

But he was pulling at her wrists, telling her no, stopping her—why?

Damnit, why?

“Not now, firebird.”

His voice rasped with desire, but he peeled her fingers off his erection.

Just about then, Cynda realized part of the table was disappearing beneath her ass. Burning away to so much ash and nothing.

A smoke alarm blared.

How long had that been going off?

Shit.

She blinked. Noticed the room behind Nick’s gorgeous, naked body.

SHIT!

He caught her and pulled her to her feet before her ass wedged itself into the burning table. Her legs wobbled, didn’t want to support her, but Nick gently held her upright as she threw every bit of energy she still possessed into drawing all the stray fire back into her body.

It was work.

A
lot
of work.

Minutes later, Cynda stood beside Nick, flushed with a totally different kind of heat as she stared at the disaster. “Oooooooh, shit, shit, shit. This has
never
happened before.”

He draped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “It’s not so bad.”

“The walls are scorched, Nick.”

“It’s washable paint.” He kissed the side of her head.

She gave him a little head-butt. “The desks are burned.”

“Yeah, but only that front one’s destroyed. I’ll bag the pieces and pitch it out. We’ve got extras in storage.” He kissed her cheek this time.

“The ceiling…”

He kissed her ear, her neck, sending tingles all along her shoulders and back. “Take a work crew an hour to patch it, tops.”

She pushed him away before she started smoking and burning down rooms again. “You’ll call for one?”

“As soon as I throw out the desk.” His smile made her happy in strange ways. More than anything, she was glad to see him looking relaxed and unburdened, even though the price was her humiliation for the rest of her natural existence.

“Stop laughing, Nick.”

“You screamed.”

She hit him in the chest with both fists. “Shut up. Do you know the level of crap I’ll be taking from my triad?”

“Yeah, but you screamed.” He ran a hand through her hair, still grinning. “We’ll, uh, have to give this a little thought before we go another round. By tomorrow, maybe?”

Cynda pointed her finger at his nose. “You—you—you put some clothes on and take this messed-up conference table to Merilee’s library and hide it. Swap it out for one without burn holes and scorch marks.”

Meanwhile, I’m naked, and downstairs, and who knows how many people are in this house tonight…

“Nick Lowell, you stop laughing right now!”

10

Nick woke later than usual Thursday morning and lay in his king-sized bed for a few quiet minutes, still sore from the battle—and hauling desks, swapping tables, washing scorch marks off walls, and patching the conference room ceiling enough for it to hold until the work crew gave it a real fix.

Damn, that woman is hot.

Smart, sexy, strong, and more willful than anyone he’d ever known.

Worth all the cleanup, and then some. Too bad all the destruction freaked her out too much to spend the night with him last night. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he had brought her here to his space. He didn’t have much in his room save for the bed, a desk, and a couple of bookcases. If she had burned it all to bits, that would have been no big loss, as long as she didn’t feel guilty about it.

Nick could tell Cynda had a big heart. Huge. A lot of love to give the right man, someone who could handle her, tame her just enough to survive kissing her good night. And she tasted like some sweet, exotic spice. The way she moved and moaned and burned when he touched her, he didn’t know how he’d ever get enough of that.