Mystical Seduction: full-length sensual paranormal romance (The Protectors) (7 page)

“I just want to talk with him. Clear the air about last
night.” Faith rubbed at the sudden pain that struck her temples when she
thought about Horace and last night’s shooting. “I need to find out if he
drugged me and why this happened.”

Kimmi’s grip on the Faith’s jeans tightened as she stared at
the shattered mirrored glass littering the floor. “From the look of things in
this room, I don’t think seeing him again is a good idea.”

“Come on. If you were in my place, you know you’d be running
to confront him, too.”

“But what if he drugged you? He could be dangerous.”

“I’m feeling more than a little dangerous myself right now.
So you’d better give me those jeans before you feel the same wrath that
destroyed this bedroom.”

“Okay, you win.” Kimmi handed over the jeans. “Not because I
think it’s a good idea, or because I’m afraid you might go all Xena Warrior
Princess on me. But because I know you. I know you won’t go to the police
before gathering all the facts yourself. But Faith?”

“Yes?”

Kimmi hugged Faith tightly. “Please, be careful.”

Although running to Horace just a few hours after she’d left
him smacked of desperation, Faith stuffed her legs in a pair of tight jeans and
eyed the piping hot coffee Kimmi had brought with her. The cup sat on a bedside
table that was now all the way across the room and at a crooked angle to the
door. She recognized the logo on the side of the cup. Kimmi had gotten the
coffee from the local shop down the street that sold those tall, gourmet coffees,
the kind with the rich flavors. Faith had picked one devil of a week to give up
caffeine.

Hopping on one leg and then the next as she pulled on a pair
of sandals, she explained to Kimmi that she hadn’t lost her mind—she hoped. She
simply needed to clear the air with Horace.

“I guess he wasn’t seriously hurt by that gunshot wound?” Kimmi
asked.

“No,” Faith said as she grabbed her purse and rushed toward
the door, “I don’t think he could have been.”

Perhaps the bullet had only grazed his chest and had momentarily
stunned him. That would explain the quick recovery. But it didn’t explain her
pounding head. Or her confusion.

She was determined to get some straight answers from him.

Besides, Horace had to be expecting some repercussion after
all that…um…weirdness last night. Odd, it didn’t seem to hurt her head as much
if she didn’t think about it directly.

She’d make sure he’d explain
that
as well.

* * * *

Horace rolled over in his bed and glanced at the clock,
surprised to discover he’d overslept. He rarely slept past six. But after a
sleepless night and a morning of fitful dreams crowded with sensual images of
Faith doing deliciously naughty things to his body with her pierced tongue, he
couldn’t seem to work up the energy to face the day.

His body ached. His arm burned. The burning was what had
finally stirred him from his sleep. His arm had once burned like this before.
But when? His head ached when he tried to remember.

With his eyes still half-closed, he carefully eased into a
sitting position in his bed. Unless it was several degrees below freezing
outside, he slept in the nude, which made it easy to see what was causing that
pain in his arm.

A primitive outline of a lion had been seared into the skin
on his right bicep as if someone had branded him.

He had been. But that had been years ago
.

He’d removed the mark, hadn’t he?

Damn. He couldn’t remember. Wouldn’t remember what had
happened during those two missing years of his. And none of it mattered anyhow,
because the mark of the lion had returned.

He rubbed his hand over the lion-shaped burn. And then
scrubbed at the raw skin, but the mark seemed to be stuck there.

“Damn.”

It was back. It was beginning.

Again
.

Horace found Faith waiting at the door when he arrived at
Club West. From the looks of things, she’d been waiting for him for several
hours. She slumped on the shaded top step to his club with her head cradled in
her hands.

He usually came in before noon, but after sleeping in late
and the shock of the mysterious reappearing tattoo, Horace didn’t have the
energy to face either the bar or his out-of-control feelings for Faith. Not
today. Not after last night.

Faith had pulled her silky blond hair into a ponytail that
looked good enough to run his fingers through. And she wore a pair of tight
jeans with a loose sea green tunic that had slight shimmer to it and dipped low
enough to show the lovely swell of her breasts.

Damn, he wanted her.

She needed to leave. He’d have to think of something to send
her away before he did something stupid, like have sex with her again.

Just seeing her again made his mind go down all the wrong
paths. He wanted to nibble on her lips and down the graceful arch of her neck.
He’d peel off her loose shirt and give his lips permission to go even lower,
tasting and tempting her with his kisses.

He could imagine how she’d mewl softly as he suckled her
breasts, not letting up until her nipples hardened and resembled ripe
strawberries. And she’d be panting and encouraging him to touch her lower…lower…until
he found the center of her tantalizing heat. She’d scream his name then.

If that was what she wanted…if that was why she’d shown up
at the club so early, how could he deny her?

He violently shook that last thought away.

He didn’t have time for those kinds of dangerous fantasies.
He still needed to talk to Stone. Hopefully Stone would have some idea what the
painful tattoo that had re-appeared on his arm this morning might mean.

Horace had snatches of memories, some involving the tattoo.
But whenever he tried to focus on them, the memories would start to burn holes
straight through his skull. And Horace had too many holes in his memories
already, too many questions about the missing two years from his life that
begged to be answered. He couldn’t risk losing the few memories of that time
that he had left. Perhaps Stone could help him with that, too.

But he had to get rid of Faith first.

That shouldn’t be too hard. Stone had blasted through her
memories, wiping away last night. Including the sex. For her, nothing had changed
between them. For her, he was just the club owner, and she was still nothing
more than his employee.

“I thought you had classes all day today,” he said to her,
making an effort to sound cheery.

Faith glanced up at him. Dark shadows circled her eyes. And
the worry clouding her blue irises looked anything but normal.

“We need to talk,” she said in a low voice that made the
hair on the back of his neck take notice.

“Of course,” Horace said and faked a careless smile. He
reached out his hand and helped her to her feet.

After unlocking the door and swinging it open, Horace
gestured for Faith to precede him inside. He couldn’t help but watch how
tightly her jeans hugged her body, or the graceful way her hips swayed as she
walked.

He battled a sudden urge to kick the door closed, press
Faith up against the closest wall, and tear off those painted-on jeans. He’d
put her legs over his shoulders and lap at the honey between her thighs. He
could already taste her sweet scent and feel how she would squirm against his
raspy tongue. He’d give her no mercy. He’d…he’d…

Whoa there
. Horace shook his head. As impossible as
it might seem, thanks to Stone, that amazing sexual encounter with Faith in the
alleyway would be no more real to her than a long-forgotten dream. She certainly
wouldn’t understand why he was fighting an damn powerful urge to pull her into
his arms and make love to her right here and now.

He switched on the interior lights and forced another smile.
“What brings you out to the club so early in the afternoon, Ms. Summers? Tim
doesn’t usually show up until sometime after five.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she bit her plump bottom lip.
It made his mouth water. She regarded him for several heart-stopping seconds.
“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I don’t believe we know each other well enough to…” he
started to say. What a lie. He knew her inside and out. Had felt her pulse with
pleasure against his arousal as he came inside her.

“Even after what happened last night?” Her voice grew
strained. The knowing way she’d said
last night
had him tripping over
his feet.

“What about last night?” he asked carefully.

She tossed her hands in the air. They had crossed the room
and stood in the middle of the empty dance floor. “That’s what I came to talk
about! Something…odd…happened. And I’m not talking about the sex. That was
great, mind-blowing. But afterwards—” She rubbed her temples. “—it’s foggy. And
I can’t figure out why. But I clearly remember someone shot you.”

She reached out and carefully pressed her hand against his chest.
“You were shot, but you don’t seem the least bit hurt. Why?”

“You must have had one helluva a dream.” He spun around for
her. “As you can see, there’s nothing wrong with me. You and I had mind-blowing
sex, you say?”

Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink, and she made the
most adorable little frustrated growl. “You and I both know last night wasn’t a
dream, Horace. I don’t know why you would try to convince me last night didn’t
happen. I know you don’t want to touch me again, but that’s no reason to deny
that—”

“You…you
remember
last night?”
Impossible
.
Stone had wiped her memories clean. And Stone was good at what he did. Scary
good. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, slowly.

“All of it?”

“As I said before, parts are foggy. It hurts my head to
think too hard about what happened after we—” She smiled shyly. A bright blush
stained her cheeks. “After we…
you know
.”

Horace put his hand on her lower back. Without realizing
why, he eased her a little closer and then closer still. Before he could stop
himself his lips closed over hers.

He kissed her, a slow, careful exploration of her mouth.
Faith tasted of fresh flowers and happiness. Horace’s hands brushed up and down
her back, wanting to do more.

“
I know
,” he whispered as he peeled his lips away and
leaned his forehead against hers.

He didn’t want to break the contact between them. He’d
hungered after this closeness, this comfortable intimacy, yet had kept himself
from seeking it out for far too many years. Could this be love? Hell, he didn’t
know. All he knew was he liked being close to Faith.

That for the first time he felt complete.

Now that he’d found this little slice of Heaven, he didn’t
want to let it go that easily.

He didn’t want to let her go.

“The question is,” he said, “what do we do now?”

* * * *

He needed to ask?

Faith’s body burned for Horace. So much so she couldn’t seem
to remember why she had needed rush over to the club and talk to him so
desperately. Feelings of desperation bounced around in her mind, no doubt about
that, but they had nothing to do with talking and everything to do with action.
Her body felt needy. She needed Horace. She needed him to touch her. To fill
her.

Forever.

Keeping her gaze connected with his, Faith slipped the green
tunic off over her head. Since she’d dressed in a hurry, she wore nothing
underneath. Her nipples tightened in the cool air of the club.

“The mark is still there,” she said, touching herself.

Horace looked uncommonly pleased with his handiwork as he
slowly raked his gaze from the top of her head to the tips of her toes,
caressing her with nothing more than a look. Faith took his hand and pressed
his open palm against the mark.

Horace teased her nipple, and then gave it a pinch. “I’d
like to make another mark. But not on your breast this time.”

She squeezed her legs together guessing where he might want
to sink his teeth. Her panties grew damp from anticipation.

“Will you get naked for me?” he asked. He sounded serious,
too serious. The somber look in his eyes made her feel like a virgin being led
to sacrifice.

She swallowed over a lump in her throat. “Yes,” she managed.

He grabbed the waistband of her jeans and tugged her close
to him. His arousal pressed against her belly through his khaki pants. He
kissed her while his nimble fingers unbuttoned her jeans. Together they
stripped her.

He reverently kissed the bite mark he’d made on her left
breast, and then suckled her right nipple with more force.

She reached for his belt and started to unhook his buckle,
but he pushed her hands away. “No,” he murmured, “only you.”

He guided her down onto the glassy smooth dance floor. He
took hold of her ankles and pushed her legs apart until they spread wide. As
she held her breath, waiting and wondering what he would do next, he knelt
between her legs and sighed with pleasure.

“You are the most beautiful woman in the world,” he
whispered. His voice felt hot and tingly against the sensitive skin on her
upper thighs. And the awe in his voice made her believe it. No matter what
she’d thought about her body before, at that moment she truly became the most
beautiful woman in the world. She glowed and felt uncommonly sexy because of
the reverent, loving way he was gazing at her.

Touching her.

Loving her.

He trailed kisses up her thigh and then gently licked her
moist center. His tongue felt warm and rough against her petal soft folds.
Faith felt an urgency in the way he caressed her with his raspy tongue. In
response, her hips rose off the floor.

“Hmmm…” His voice vibrated against her flesh, pushing a wave
of pleasure through her entire body. Faith arched her back and groaned. Horace
seemed pleased by her response. As a reward, he flicked his tongue in and out
of her, mimicking the motions of lovemaking, heating her until she feared she
might be singed by his wet, hot tongue.