Skin Deep (6 page)

Skepticism quickly turned to surprise in both men’s faces.

“I want to purge myself of her after I have her … many times.” Cain relished the thought of all the positions he would take her in. Surely after that, his gut wouldn’t ache at the idea of another touching her.

Cain removed himself from the table. The delay caused by the two men had him nearly panting with desperation.
It’s pathetic how frantic I am to lay eyes on her.

He spotted her with no problem. Even in the dim lighting she stood out, as if a spotlight lit her. She was on the dance floor again, wearing a light blue dress. The soft silk clung to her tight body in the most attractive way. Her dark red hair hung free with curls down her back. Men of all species were clawing against one another to get to her. Two Vampires were physically having it out.

“I saw her first!” the tall one shouted. His fist slammed into the other’s face.

“Like hell you did!” Dark blood poured from the other’s nose and his fangs burst over his bottom lip.

Cain clenched his fists.
Mine.

A group of Gnomes were also making their way toward her, their squatty bodies pushing through the throng of people. None of them tried to conceal the lust in their eyes or the erections in their pants. It took everything he had to not run and snatch her from their greedy eyes, but he knew that this time he’d have to play his cards differently. When he was done with her, she would be begging him to fuck her and he couldn’t wait to hear those sweet words from her perfect pink lips.

The moment Kiera, Maryline, and Darla reached Lucky Zipper, Kiera headed for the dance floor. She was desperate to get lost in the rhythm of the music. She felt wound up, like a top, and didn’t know why.

Bodies packed the club, meshing together in a frenzy. Kiera lost herself in the throng of people and moved her body to the rhythm of the rap music as it vibrated through her chest.

She had prepared her outfit in hopes the handsome stranger from the hallway would be there. Now that she was here, she was starting to reconsider. She didn’t think she could stand it if she saw him and he ignored her. She didn’t know why this thought bothered her so much. She didn’t even know the man, for goodness sake.
I’m off my damn rocker.

The DJ changed the song to
Lemme See
by Usher. God, she loved that song, even if it was a little old. She was vaguely aware of the breathless, writhing bodies that danced around her. Her body found the rhythm on its own, her arms seeming to move on their own accord while her hips pumped to the deep beat of the music. It wasn’t long before a bereft feeling came over her and she realized the crowd had parted.

A thick, muscular body strode toward her. His fluid movement dominated the dance floor. The look on his face was one that could kill. His sharp green eyes were calculating, filled with animalistic menace.

His look terrified her and warmed her all at once. Kiera was overwhelmed with the desire to run in the opposite direction and, at the same time, pounce on him. Even when he looked pissed off, the man was incredibly sexy. He wore dark blue jeans that fit low on his waist. His shirt was white with dark designs covering it, making the golden tan of his skin stand out against the pale material. The black tribal tattoo that snaked up his arm seemed even blacker than before, almost dominating him. Kiera had a distinct impression that this tattoo, or tattoos similar to it, decorated most of his body. Kiera’s mouth went dry.
I want to see
.

The long cut of his white-blond hair had fallen across his eyes and he shook his head gracefully. Each strand of his perfect hair swept into place, revealing his malevolent green eyes again. It was the kind of hair a hairdresser itched to touch, but feared to cut. Hair so perfect that surely hands like her own could never be skilled enough to style it.

He was the predator and she was his prey, or at least she prayed to God she was. His walk was smooth and quick, faster than she expected. His gaze traced all over her and she saw hunger in its depths. Her body trembled.

He growled something Kiera couldn’t understand over the crowd and the pounding music, but it sounded like
mine.
No, that couldn’t be right.
His hand shot out, wrapping around her waist, jerking her toward him. The act shocked her and she stumbled forward. He steadied her. “Miss me?” His words were hot against the side of her neck. Sizzling liquid pooled between her legs.
Hell yes, I did.
But she kept her mouth shut and sucked in a breath, inhaling his sandalwood scent. He moved against her to the deep thrum of the music. The contact charged her like an electric shock. The warmth of him tingled through her and made her wish for more of his skin against her own.

She parted her legs and he slid his in between them. Like a wanton, she writhed on his thigh to the rhythm of the music pounding around them. His hands slid up and down her back in a gentle caress. It was a magical feeling, like the air was full of ecstatic power.

She let her head fall back. Never had dancing felt so good, or so right. Of course, she had never danced with anyone aside from the dark-haired man and Roth, but she supposed she couldn’t really call what her and Roth did dancing. It was always rough pawing, never soothing or even remotely sexual, at least not for her.

“You never told me your name.” His words were a growl in her ear. His teeth nipped at her sensitive earlobe.

“Kiera.”

“Kiera,” he rumbled, hearing her amongst the crowd and music, and explored her neck with his mouth. His teeth tweaked at her flesh, causing her pulse to quicken. “An exotic name for an exotic woman. Your beauty is startling.” She shivered at his words. Never had she felt so attractive.

“Thank you.” She lifted her head and met his dazzling green eyes. The shawl she’d made could hardly compare to the complexity of his irises. “What’s yours?”

He leaned toward her ear
.
“Cain.”

The name traced through her mind, awakening every feminine sense in her body.

They stayed there, dancing amongst the crowd of sweating bodies, until Kiera lost track of time. It seemed like forever and yet not nearly long enough. She could have spent eternity with her body pressed against Cain’s.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Kiera almost nodded her head in agreement. She wanted to be in a bed, naked, with this man who called her beautiful. Bitter realization flooded her. She had nearly forgotten her purpose—to show him she wasn’t some easy lay.

“No.” It was perhaps the hardest word she’d ever had to utter. The thick erection in his pants pressed against her, radiating heat. The shock on his face was palpable. She distinctly got the impression he wasn’t used to being told no.

“Let me ease the desire inside you. I promise you won’t be sorry.” That was where he was wrong. She would be sorry. One night of passion wasn’t enough to sacrifice the body she’d always dreamed of.

“Sorry,” she said and turned, leaving Cain on the dance floor. She knew if she didn’t, she would be tempted to take him up on his offer.

Kiera didn’t dare think or breathe until she was safely outside the bar. The air outside was crisp and cold. It flooded her nose with the refreshing smell of the balsam firs. Many bordered the parking lot, creating an ominous view.

It was almost winter time, and far too chilly to be out in a tiny dress with no coat. It didn’t matter, though. She felt a fraction better and wished it were colder. Perhaps then her still-sizzling senses would be numbed.

The back door opened, revealing a pretty little brunette waitress wearing a nametag that read
Leslie
. Her uniform—if it could even be called that—consisted of a red see-through top and a thong to match. Leslie’s eyes locked on her the moment she stepped outside. Kiera was floored by the outright hatred in the woman’s dark brown irises.
What the hell?

Leslie lit a cigarette. “Saw you dancing with Cain in there. He’s quite a catch, huh?” The brunette exhaled a puff of smoke. Kiera immediately felt uncomfortable. She didn’t like this woman’s tone.

“You like him?” Leslie asked.

“No.” Kiera turned, deciding it was best that she go back in.
Could this girl be Cain’s girlfriend?
Why did that thought make her feel sick to her stomach?

“You know he’s a player, don’t you? He doesn’t care about you one bit. He loves me. He’s just one of those men who like to play, you know? You just wait; he’ll rope you in, make you feel like you’re everything, and then drop you like you’re nothing. He always comes back to me. Keep that in mind the next time he’s buried between your thighs.” The words burned Kiera with a new kind of vicious heat.

She shouldn’t have been surprised by any of this. She didn’t even know the man, for God’s sake. He’d spoken all of two words to her and she had the nerve to feel angry that he was with another woman.
How ridiculous is that?

“Thanks for the tip.” She wanted to say more, wanted to rip Leslie’s perfect brown locks from her head.
Has to be a weave.
If there was something Kiera knew, it was hair, and hair didn’t look that good unless it was bought at the store. She didn’t say it, though. She planned to go back in, but the waitress beat her to the punch by stomping on her cigarette with more force than necessary and slamming her way back into the building.

Kiera exhaled and leaned against the rough wall. Her eyes roamed over the emptied back parking lot as her mind reeled. Leaves of all colors covered the blacktop. The trees that towered at the edge of the parking lot were gorgeous, probably hundreds of years old. Kittery was really beautiful this time of year. Too bad she was presently feeling too rotten to enjoy it.

She stood there for a few more minutes before deciding she should walk around to the front and see if the man at the door would go get her friends. It may be weak, but she really didn’t want to run into the handsome, apparently taken, Cain.

She hadn’t moved ten feet when her neck prickled with a sense of warning. She ran her hand over her elbow and realized just how vulnerable she was out here by herself. She continued to walk at the same steady pace, but the feeling wouldn’t leave her. She looked around, though she saw nothing except the dark wooded area on the other side of the parking lot and the black wall of the club.

Her walk quickened as she chanced a look behind her. Nothing was there. Before she was able to gaze directly in front of her again, she found herself crashing into the body of another person. She jumped back in fear, just as a meaty hand closed around her arm.

“Oy there, pretty, pretty. Don’t struggle.” The man’s lilt was that of an Australian. He was several inches shorter than her, many years older, and wearing a black toboggan on his head.

“Let go of me!” Kiera tried to pull her arm free.

“Na, don’t be shy there, little sheila, I just want to play. You’re a real looker.” Kiera tried to pull her hand away again, but he refused to release her, holding tightly to her slim arm.

She made a fist and pulled her right arm back, ready to swing at him with everything she had. If there was one thing being with Roth had taught her, it was that she should never just lay there and take it. She would forever go down fighting for her life.

Her fist met only air. There was a blurring of white and black as the man’s hand was ripped from her arm. She had been in mid-swing and spun around from the force before collapsing on the ground in a messy heap. Her gaze found the man, and what she saw took the breath right out of her lungs.

He was sprawled on the concrete some thirty feet away, but he wasn’t alone. A huge white tiger was on top of him, and huge wasn’t exaggerating. This animal was far bigger than any cat she’d ever seen at the zoo. It had to be twice the size of a normal tiger.

“No!” the man cried out. The tiger swiped at his face with one gigantic furred paw. Blood splattered on the ground with a sickening slosh. Bile rose in Kiera’s throat. The last time she’d heard that sound, it had been her own blood splattering against the white paint of a clean wall.

Kiera scrambled backward. She had to get away. Away from the sound, away from the horrors of her past. Before she knew it, she was running. She slammed her way into the back of the bar, tripped, lost a heel in the process, and kicked off the other one, leaving them, forgotten.

It was a beautiful Saturday as Cain walked through the crisp morning air. The sun shone, making it a relatively warm day for the time of year. In his left hand, he held a bouquet of red roses. Man, did he feel like a schmuck. Never in his thousand-some-odd years of life had he purchased flowers for a woman and yet here he was, nervous about delivering them.

He realized last night that he had to have Kiera, first and foremost, because when he wanted something, he got it and that was that. Though he couldn’t deny there was something more to getting her. What it was, he couldn’t be sure. But when he’d seen the man touching her the night before, he snapped. Never had he experienced such a burning anger as he’d felt in that moment. He’d been unable to stay sane enough to remain in his human form.

He’d recognized the aggressor’s species immediately. The man was a Blood Goblin. He would never forget the stench that clung to their flesh. They were known for preying on young men and women and got their rocks off on blood and torture. Anger had burned him to pieces when he’d slammed into the disgusting being, the animal bursting out of him like some sort of newbie. What was worse was that she was gone after he’d beaten the devilish creature almost to the point of oblivion.

He’d searched for her, but she was nowhere to be found. He’d been up all night looking for her, like some sort of obsessive fan boy. Especially after he found a pair of white heels just inside the back door of the bar.
Hers.
He had scooped them up like they were precious jewels.

She proved almost impossible to track. A beautiful aroma, but so very puzzling to his senses. He was an excellent tracker. He could find anyone with just a whiff of their scent … but not her. Eventually, he caught wind of her and was led straight to a hair salon named Dye Hard.

Someone’s a Bruce Willis fan.

Looking through the glass, he spotted a life-size cutout of a young Bruce Willis.
Nailed it.
More importantly, he spotted a framed license along the back wall.
Kiera Lynn McBroom.
Hers!

He was home and in bed in less than five minutes. He knew what to do the next day.

And here he was: flowers in one hand, high heels in the other—a damned idiot trying to woo a woman.

Kiera sighed as she pulled the cheetah-print tarp off her customer and hung it on the hook next to the large mirror at her station. Exhausted was the only word that could describe how she felt at that moment. Sleep hadn’t found her until the early hours of the morning and when it did, she was assailed with bad dreams filled with Roth and crazed white tigers.

“It looks good, Kiera. I’m so glad I started coming to you instead of that Pro Clips place.” Luke admired his new haircut in the mirror. She smiled at him, though she knew he wasn’t really being serious. He came in every week and she buzzed his whole head. Even Pro Clips couldn’t mess that up. “You look great, by the way. I mean, wow. Who knew Weight Less worked so well?”

Kiera blushed and averted her eyes, looking down at the little figurines at her station. She’d bought herself a souvenir at the airport when she arrived in Maine four years ago. The ceramic frog smiled at her, holding a little guitar in its green hands. At the bottom little black letters spelled out
Hello from Maine!
It wasn’t the most original thing she’d ever seen, but it was cute. Since landing the job at Dye Hard, Darla and Maryline had given her a slew of other frog figurines, most of them doing something ridiculous. They were starting to take over her workstation, but Kiera didn’t mind. She’d even crocheted a lily pad for them to sit on.

“Kiera?”

She coughed into her hand and met Luke’s gaze in the mirror. “Yeah, who knew?” She smiled. “Your total is—” She was cut off when forty dollars was held out to her. “Oh, Mr. Jennings, this is far too much, you know it only costs twelve—”

“I know, but I think everyone deserves a decent-sized tip every once in a while. And didn’t I tell you to stop calling me Mr. Jennings? You make me sound like an old man.”

Luke was definitely far from old. He couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five. He dressed nicely and had one of those smiles you could never forget. Kiera had thought he was handsome ever since the first time he came in to get his hair cut six months ago. He had always been an extremely good tipper, but never this good.

“Well, thank you, Mister—er, Luke, but I really couldn’t accept such a big tip for just your haircut.” She moved to the front counter and he mirrored her, standing on the opposite side.

“Then let me take you to dinner tonight.”

Kiera opened her mouth, but no words would come out. She’d wanted him to ask her out for months. Not to mention that Maryline and Darla fawned over him like he was God’s gift to women—always talking about how nice he was when he came in and telling Kiera he had a thing for her.

I must look like a deer in headlights
. She took a deep breath, prepared to turn him down. She’d had enough excitement lately when it came to men. The tinkling of the bell averted her gaze. She nearly choked at the sight of Cain ducking in the doorway.

“Kiera?” Her head snapped back to Luke, who was looking less confident now as he leaned over the counter. His brown eyes searched hers.

“I would love to have dinner with you.” The words fled her mouth before she could think them through. Though she didn’t regret them. There was no way in hell she wanted Cain to think she was turning down any dates for him, which was exactly what she had been about to do. She’d been about to turn down Luke, this wonderfully nice and attractive customer she’d known for months, because she had a crush on an involved man she’d met at a bar?

She was seriously off her fucking rocker.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at eight, then? You want me to come by your house?” In the midst of Luke’s sentence, Cain glided up to the front counter, looking sleek and gorgeous as all get out.
What is he doing here
? Surely he didn’t need a haircut. His hair was perfect, shiny, and white-blond all over. There was no way he could be dying it. It was solid platinum perfection right down to the roots.

“Kiera?”

“Hmm?” She snapped her eyes away from Cain.

“Where do you live?” Luke eyed Cain with annoyance as he spoke. Kiera realized that Cain was over a foot taller than Luke, who was rather tall himself.

“Oh, uh, just pick me up from here.”

Discomfort built in the room. Cain eyed Luke as well. Murder glazed his clear green eyes.

“Okay, see you then. Here.” Luke reached into his wallet and pulled out two cards. “Write your number on the back of this.”

Kiera stared at the little square Luke pushed in front of her. “My number?”

“Yeah, like your cell phone number.” Luke gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So
I
can call you.” Even in her befuddled state, Kiera didn’t miss the emphasis.

“Oh, sure.” Without looking at either of the men, she grabbed the closest pen. She hovered the ballpoint over the little square and realized she didn’t know her cell phone number. She’d never given it out to anyone aside from Maryline and Darla, and that had been years ago.

“I, uh, don’t know my number.” She slid the card back to him, finally meeting his gaze.

“What?”

“I so rarely give it out, that I, uh, don’t know it. Give me yours and I’ll call you so you have it.” Heat crept into Kiera’s cheeks.
Of course this would happen, and in front of Cain, of all people.
She couldn’t just be suave and write her number on the back of his card, bat her eyelashes, and blow him a kiss on the way out. Nope. She had to be the weird hermit girl who’d never given her number out before because no one had ever wanted it. The girl who had never been on a date with someone who hadn’t tried to murder her.

Man, I’m a real winner.

“Oh, okay. It’s cool. Here.” He slid the other card across the counter. “Keep this one. It has my cell number on the front.” Kiera bobbed her head up and down. “So, I’ll see you tonight, eight o’clock. Here?”

“Definitely.” Kiera tried to calm her nerves.

“Cool.” Luke started to back out of the store, shooting a dirty look at Cain’s back before his gaze met hers again.

Kiera brought her hand up and puckered her lips.
Good gravy, Kiera. Don’t do it.
Her subconscious prodded her, but it was too late. She smacked her lips against her fingertips. She bent her wrist backward and blew Luke a kiss. He looked surprised, but reached out and grasped the air with his fist as if he’d caught it just as the glass swung closed, leaving her alone with Cain.

“He’s not your type.” Cain gazed at Kiera’s striking form. Gods, she was even more beautiful when lit by the glow of the day. Her cheeks were red from blushing.
Blushing for that bastard. Not to mention blowing him kisses.
The way her lips puckered, like two ripe berries ready for a plucking, had his dick hardening in his pants.
She’s blowing kisses to another man and I’m getting a fucking hard-on?
His fist clenched around the roses he held.

“How would you know?” Menace laced her words. When the human man—Luke, she’d called him—stood there, she seemed shy and perhaps a little overwhelmed. Now her marigold eyes held nothing but ice cold anger.

She turned her back on him and he got his first view of her beautiful backside in skin-tight jeans. It took everything he had to not whistle in awe.
Gods, she sure is something else.
Her dark red hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she wore a black see-through lace shirt, with a black tank top underneath. She looked like heaven. Better than heaven, even.

“I know, because
I’m
your type.”

She had begun sweeping and immediately stopped, spinning around, fixing her gaze on him. “You are
not
my type. You’re just some guy from a bar. That doesn’t make you my type.” Her voice was heated, barking the words at him. Her chest heaved in the most delicious way. Damn, she was beautiful when she was all worked up.

“Plus, he smells weird.”

She scoffed and ran a hand over her hair. “Smells weird, seriously?”

Cain wrinkled his nose. The sweet scent of the man still hung in the air. “Yeah, like he took a bath in grenadine or some nasty shit like that.”

“You’re an asshole.” She jerked the broom across the floor like she was a hockey player instead of a hairdresser.

“I know. And you like it.” He growled the words and leaned over the counter.
Why am I letting her get under my skin like this?
Her movements ceased, but she didn’t turn around.

She took a deep breath. “You need to leave.”

“That’s it? Just going to throw me out?”

What the fuck? She agrees to go on a date with tutti-frutti and I get kicked out?

“I don’t have time for this. Do you want a haircut or not?” The way she snipped those words at him really twisted a knife in his gut. She was going to act all starry-eyed in front of that dweeby asshole, all—
”I don’t know my number, I’ll call you later.”
Fucking please.
She did that shit on purpose so Cain wouldn’t see her phone number and try to hit her up. He’d had to use the same trick himself a few times over the last few decades, though it’d never been used against him.

“Nah, I don’t wanna end up looking like
your type’s
haircut did, but thanks anyways, doll face.” He threw the flowers and shoes on the counter and prowled from the building.

Kiera stared after Cain’s disappearing form in utter shock. He came to her place of work, insulted her, and left a bouquet of flowers and … 
oh my gosh, my shoes!
She stared in disbelief at the beautiful deep red of the dozen roses and felt like someone had punched her in the gut. No man had ever brought her flowers. She always dreamed about the day it would happen. The day a man would think enough of her to buy a gift. Kindness was not something she ever really experienced from Roth. He had only thought of himself and his wants.

She traced her fingers over the smooth red flesh of one petal. Red roses were her favorite. Her mother used to always call Kiera her “little red rose” because of her deep red hair. Of course, Cain didn’t know that. Red roses were the most typical flower. It’s not like he was trying to do anything special for her.

Her heart fluttered in her chest and she pressed her hand over the erratic organ. Her body begged to differ.
Special
was exactly what she was feeling. She had the urge to jump up and down and squeal.

“What are you smiling about?” Darla’s blond head bobbed over a large cardboard box. Kiera never heard the tinkling of the bell.

“Hey, nothing.” She tried to hide the flowers and shoes.

“Oooh, who are those from?” Maryline pranced around Darla, up to the counter. “Don’t try to hide them! Oh, what happened to them?” Kiera looked at the flowers again, noticing that most of them were severed midway down their stem. “It looks like someone squeezed the crap out of them.”

Kiera frowned. But that wasn’t possible. Who was strong enough to squeeze the stems off a dozen thorned flowers?