Firecracker (Last Call, Book Six) (5 page)

“
But you’re still
you.”

“
On the inside.”

The implication being, of course, that no one
noticed that part. “I get it.”

She shrugged, but a tiny smile curved her
lips. “I suppose this body was a virgin, which makes what you did
to me much more illicit.”

Not nearly as illicit as
what he
could
do.
“That’s your goal, huh? Dirty it up while she still has
time?”

She scrunched up her nose at his teasing
tone. “Perhaps. Isn’t that why people pay so much for one of these
rooms? Deviance and debauchery? And whatever they keep in those
cabinets. I’m both curious and terrified to find out.”

Truthfully, he rarely explored the
accessories provided with the rooms. “I come here because it’s
easier. Everyone understands what’s going on.”

Her expression sobered. “Understands what you
are? Or what this means?”

“
Both, but mostly the first
one.” Something similar must have happened to her at least once
through the ages—meeting someone who couldn’t possibly grasp what
her existence meant, even if she could explain it. “How do you tell
someone you’ve been to Hell? That it’s where you were
born?”

She stroked his brow instead of answering,
her touch feather light. “Is it as terrible as the stories make it?
Hell, I mean.”

“
It’s worse,” he murmured.
“I think it took me a few centuries in this realm to really
understand how bad.”

“
Do you have to go back
there?”

“
I haven’t, not in years.
But I might, I guess. Someday.”

Phoebe leaned in and kissed him softly. “We
were both born of flame. It’s nice to feel less alone, even if only
for a few hours.”

He caught a lock of her hair and twirled the
curl around his finger. “Nicer if it doesn’t have to end quite so
soon.”

“
We have all night, don’t
we?”

For now.
“Yes, we do.”

“
Are you tired?”

Jarrett gave her a smile. “No. Just
thinking.”

She pillowed her cheek on one bent arm and
resumed her slow touches, as if she was mapping the contours of his
face with her fingertips. “What do you do when you’re not
here?”

He hesitated. Would she understand, or be put
off by the hazards of his job? “I’m a stuntman. Driving, mostly.
The crashes?”

“
Truly?” She paused with her
hand on his neck. “Is it scary?”

“
Sometimes,” he admitted.
“I’m not immortal, you know. Not entirely.”

“
Neither am I.” If she was
bothered by the danger of his job, it didn’t show on her face.
Instead she seemed intrigued. “Do you do it because you enjoy it,
or does it pay well?”

“
Both. You’d be surprised
how many non-humans do things like that.” Then he had to laugh at
himself. “Or maybe you wouldn’t be.”

“
Dangerous.” She smiled and
traced her fingertip over his lips. “You like the risk. No wonder
you’re willing to push me over the edge.”

“
You’re harmless,
sweetheart.” He drew her finger between his lips and
sucked.

She moaned softly. “I almost broke through
the wards the first time you put your hands on me. We could burn
this place down if you put your mind to it.”

Then he’d have to be very, very careful. He
released her finger and bent his head to her rib cage, just under
her breasts. “Keep your eyes shut.”

“
All right.” She relaxed on
against the sheets, one knee cocked and angled in to cover her, as
if she felt modest even now.

Delicate. The word had occurred to him
downstairs, and it fit. Every soft curve, every elegant arch of
bone beneath her pale, creamy skin. Jarrett traced his fingertips
down her thigh to her upraised knee, scratching lightly with his
nails.

She shivered. “There’s nothing harmless about
the two of us together.”

He acknowledged the truth of the words with a
chuckle. “Maybe not, but it’s still good.”

“
Only good?” Her fingers
tangled in his hair, and she pulled softly. “It’s as amazing as it
is hazardous. I can’t remember if anyone has ever stripped me of
all control before. It’s something I should make a point of
repeating.”

Jarrett had to bite back the offer to help
her, and for as long as she wanted. “You’re too passionate to stay
locked up, Phoebe.”

“
Oh, I don’t know.” Her tone
turned teasing. “Locking me up might be the quickest way to unleash
a little passion.”

He licked the ridge at the bottom of her rib
cage. “That’s right. You’ve never seen the showers in a room like
this.”

She propped her herself up on her elbow and
eyed him. “What’s in the showers?”

Instead of answering, he tilted his head
toward the head of the bed, where burnished metal rings hung from
the ornately carved headboard. How long would it take her to
understand?

A few seconds, at least. Her gaze followed
his, and she frowned. “Not a bed...” She tilted her head. “Are
those for chains?”

“
For chains,” he
confirmed.

“
In the
shower
?”

His lips twitched, but he refused to give in
to the smile. “Affixed to the tile. You feeling adventurous?”

She laughed. “You want to chain me up in the
shower? How barbaric of you.”

“
Recall, if you will, that
you were the one to suggest both activities.”

Phoebe rolled to her knees and crawled over
him. “I don’t think it would be as much fun if you weren’t a little
barbaric. Are you?”

He teased her nipple with a quick pinch.
“When properly motivated? Hell, yeah.”

“
Good.” She brushed a kiss
over his lips. “Get the chains, and any other barbaric thing you
want. I’ll meet you in the shower.”

Short chains, the kind that would hold her
close to the wall. And he’d leave her feet unbound so he could lift
one leg over his shoulder and lick her to orgasm while water
sluiced over her skin and then turned to steam. “Anything?”

“
Anything,” she echoed, her
teasing smile as she slipped from the bed turning the words into a
promise.

Knowing your way around a room came in handy
when you wanted to grab a handful of enchanted silver chain and
haul ass to the bathroom as fast as possible. Jarrett hovered in
the doorway, watching as Phoebe fiddled with the knobs just inside
the vast tiled shower. Water spilled from the neatly concealed
fixture in the ceiling, spritzing the tiled wall where the iron
rings glistened.

Phoebe glanced over her shoulder at him as
water plastered her long hair to her shoulders. “This is
decadent.”

He swallowed hard as a rivulet of water
cascaded off the stiff peak of one of her breasts. “Decadent.”

She chased that drop with her finger, as if
the sensation had awoken a deeper need. Her fingertip hovered over
her nipple as her eyelids drooped. “You like watching me.”

The chains in his hand jingled as he took a
step closer to the open shower. “You look like you’re discovering
what feels good. That’s damn sexy.”

“
I’ve been touching myself
for a century,” she replied in a dreamy voice. “The discovery is
that I enjoy being watched.”

“
Then show me.”

“
Will those chains hold
you?”

That stopped him short. “Me?”

She stepped through the
spray to stand in front of him and traced the silver the same way
she’d touched her own skin, with pleasure and reverence. “I don’t
think they’d hold you for long, but it’s the fair thing to do,
don’t you think? Give me a chance to make
you
crazy?”

Fair, maybe. But advisable?
Not even close. “With the water still
on
, right?”

“
Of course.” Her fingertips
stroked his cheek. “What are you worried about? The fire? Or what
you’ll do to me if you get free?”

Neither. Both. But he handed her the chains.
“I trust you, Phoebe.”

Her sudden smile was brilliant. “I trust you,
too. Whatever happens.”

He knew, and that was what frightened
him.

She had a hellhound chained to the shower
wall.

Silver clinked against tile as Phoebe stepped
back and admired the view. Jarrett was taller, so the chains that
would have stretched her arms over her head were slack for him,
with enough give that he could arch away from the wall and move
forward a pace.

A little freedom. Not enough to reach where
she stood now, her shoulders under the lukewarm water that rained
from the ceiling like a summer shower. She’d adjusted the
temperature to something comfortable but cool, knowing things would
heat up soon enough.

From the fire in his eyes as
he tested the chains, she thought
soon
might become
now
before she knew it.

A sudden command escaped him on a rasp.
“Touch your tits.”

Her hands were halfway to her breasts before
she realized she’d obeyed, and then she couldn’t stop, not when she
cupped their heavy weight and Jarrett jerked against the chains,
licking the corner of his mouth.

No wonder people relished
control, a thing as forbidden to her as its lack, since no lover in
her long life could have uttered the words
I trust you, Phoebe
and meant them.
Not truly, not when their power was the only thing that held hers
at bay.

Jarrett trusted her. Wanted her. She ached as
his eyes tracked her movement, and when she pinched her nipples,
her breath caught along with his. “What else do you want to
see?”

He rumbled. “I want to see you come.”

She tilted her head under
the water. Drops splashed in all directions, landed on his skin and
sizzled before evaporating. He was lush and beautiful, every line
of his body whispering of power and danger, and he was
steaming
.

Judging the give on the chains, Phoebe moved
just close enough to trace one of the tattoos winding its way
around his arm with her tongue. That sizzled, too, his skin so hot
it would have burned a mortal woman. Maybe even some immortal
ones.

But not her. She rocked closer, picking the
next swath of ink and following it with the tip of her tongue as
his cock jutted against her belly. “You want to see me come?
How?”

The chains rattled. “Show me your pussy.”

Thrilled by her own power, she ignored the
command and licked his nipple as her fingers mapped every flexed
muscle. “I should paint you like this. Do you know what I’d call
it?”

He trembled under her hands. “Tell me.”

His eyes were wild, inhuman. She was playing
a perilous game, stripping control from a hellhound to reveal the
beast within, but some games were only worth playing because the
stakes were as high as the reward.

Stepping back, she took a moment to admire
how he looked, straining against the chains, his erection standing
strong and proud.

“
The
Promise
,” she whispered, distantly aware
that the water pounding on her shoulders had begun to steam.
Holding his gaze, she slipped her fingers between her legs and
stroked her clit with a shiver. “No woman would wonder
why.”

Jarrett’s eyes glowed red, and the water
pooling at their feet roiled up in a boil. “When I’m out of these
chains, I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t sit down. There’s
your promise, sweetheart.”

She couldn’t think of a more alluring one. It
was hard not to speed her caress, but she was too close to the edge
already, and Jarrett didn’t look patient enough to coax her to that
plateau again. When the chains snapped, he’d be on her, in her,
possessing her body as they both burned.

Slow. Teasing. She edged her legs wider so
he’d have a better view and smiled. “Is that all? I need to try
harder.”

“
Do you?” He growled and
tugged against the chains again. This time, the metal cuffs
stretched like they were made of putty.

Melting.

Instinct whispered for her
to run, but something even more intrinsic and ancient laughed at
the very notion. She wasn’t a frail, fragile mortal who needed to
fear a minion of hell. Hell
was
fire—and so was she.

Tilting her head back, she thrust two fingers
deep and cried out as her body lurched toward release.

She didn’t hear the cuffs snap, only the
chains rebounding on the tile as Jarrett hauled her hand free of
her body and pressed her against the shower wall. Phoebe had only
half a heartbeat to miss her own touch before he filled her, hot
and hard, thrusting deep.