Tempting Gray - Untouchables 02 (12 page)

“She’s off limits,” Grayson said.

For a moment, everyone froze. To claim any
rights over another meant you had to have a stake in that person. Usually it
was because the two people in question were lovers, friends, or
something.
She
and Grayson were nothing more than business partners and surely if she wanted
to flirt with Lucas, she could. Either way, his claim was far too personal and
everyone noticed it.

She thought of something quickly to divert
everyone’s attention. Which is why her response, appropriately, was, “Like hell
I am!”

Very slowly, Grayson faced her with a glare so
potent she swore any second her hair would combust. With only his eyes he told
her to shut up. Her jaw twitched with the need to say something. She was a
grown woman who made mature decisions. She did not need a babysitter or a ‘master’
to tell her what she could or could not do. Even if she didn’t have any
interest in the rock star Lucas.

“You work for me and since I’ve paid well for
your services, I say you are off limits.” He said it so definitely her heart
started racing.

“Never mind the drama,” Dom said. “We need to
get to work on this plan to infiltrate the underground casino. You can begin by
laying out all the information you have on the Donato case.”

Everyone grabbed a seat around the circular
table in the middle of the room. Grayson started them off with a retelling of
all he knew of the Donatos and how he came by hiring her services. He didn’t shy
away from mentioning the Were attack in the catacombs, she noticed. Nor about
how she stupidly—his word, not hers—tracked down the casino alone. Then came
all the questions aimed at her. She had to re-explain how she couldn’t shift
but could still track. She explained her ability as best as she could. When she
finished, the Blackmoores appeared satisfied enough with her explanation and
moved on to planning.

“We’ll start with disguises,” Grayson said. As
he spoke, he was writing out plans and simultaneously drawing a map, which he
made her approve for accuracy.

“What are we going as?” Arabella asked. In her
mind she pictured over-the-top Halloween costumes and figured that wouldn’t
work to make them blend in to the kind of clientele the underground casino catered
to. Also, they’d stick out like a sore thumb if her disguise was of The Bride
of Frankenstein. Although, her hair would be so cool if she did that.

“Ourselves,” he responded shortly.

Groaning, Dom rubbed his eyes like he was
trying to gouge them out. “You know that won’t work. They know your face too
well.”

“Not to mention mine,” Arabella chimed in.
Grayson looked at her. The impact of his gaze made her lips start moving.
Weird, only her father could ever look at her and make her talk without saying
a word. “I could dye my hair, wear a dress and stuff to change my appearance. Girls
have it easier when it comes to this disguise thing. You though…you’re so
recognizable…from your skin color to those eyes…I don’t know how you’ll cover
it up. Even with makeup.”

Grayson still looked at her as Dom and the
others started throwing around suggestions. When he slowly began to lean in
close so he could whisper something in her ear for only her to hear, she surely
thought someone would gasp or shout at them and they’d break apart like a kid
caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Warm breath touched her ear as he spoke, “Only
a fool wouldn’t recognize you in a disguise.”

What was that? What did it mean? Was he…
flirting
with her? He moved away and went back to the discussion as if he hadn’t just
thrown her completely off-kilter.

She wanted to stomp her foot and poke him in
the ribs. Most of all, she wanted to ask
just what the hell did that mean?

Arabella’s costume looked a hundred times
better than she thought it would. And Grayson was wrong. She was
not
easily
recognizable. Not now, after Felicity, Beth, and even Grayson’s step-mother,
Diane, accompanied by her personal celebrity hairstylist, Eduardo, had worked
their magic on her. Eduardo had styled Felicity’s hair for her mating ceremony
to Dominic—the first one, which had failed and was a long story. Arabella didn’t
know all the details to the story, just that it’d caused quite the stir when it
happened.

They’d dyed her hair black—the complete opposite
of her natural blonde hair. The color made her pale skin stand out sharply,
and, strangely, it didn’t look so bad. It made her appear more exotic and
daring, alluring. Or maybe that was because they’d put her in a sleek but sexy
white cocktail dress that cupped her shoulders, bared a portion of her breasts
and back, and did not stop high enough for her comfort. This dress had been
designed to show as much skin as possible. It would match her job description.
Tonight her role was that of a flirty, sexy Were named Raquel Beaumont and
Jeremy Mayors was her vampire lover and date for the night. She had no idea
what Grayson looked like yet, or what he was even dressing as, because when she’d
finally yawned her way out of last night’s war conference they still didn’t
have the details ironed out.

“You look amazing!” Felicity complemented, her
smile bright.

“Of course she does. I did her hair and
makeup.” Eduardo was a slender man with a hooked nose and an immaculate
dresser. He looked just how she’d imagine a male celebrity hairstylist would
look.

“Thank you so much. I don’t even know what to
say,” Arabella said.

“I take payment in way of hugs,” he told her
with a sly smile. Laughing, Arabella hugged him, then gave one to Felicity,
Beth, and Diane too.

After everyone departed, Arabella was left
alone so she could finish getting ready. She found herself staring at her
reflection in the mirror; it looked so bizarre. It looked like her without
actually looking like her. It was a strange combination to look like someone
you weren’t. She looked like a sexy, confidant woman, while she felt anything
but. Inside, her stomach rolled in nervous anticipation. Tonight would be
dangerous. They’d gone over the plan repeatedly last night to prepare her. She
was as ready as she would ever be.

Arabella had always preferred jeans to dresses
but she did own a few for special occasions—funerals and date nights. This was
like no date-night dress she owned though. It revealed far more skin than she normally
showed, which wasn’t what had her fidgeting instead of going to meet Grayson
like she was supposed to. No, what had her fidgeting was going into this
dangerous situation in nothing more than a scrap of a dress.

Okay, fine! Maybe it also had a little
something to do with having to pretend to be Grayson’s lover tonight. That was
their ploy to getting in. Hopefully it worked.

“Now or never,” she told her reflection. With
one final glance at her reflection, she snatched her purse and headed
downstairs. She found everyone milling about in the front den. The ladies
renewed praise on her even though she hadn’t made a change since she’d seen
them. Lucas, Vas, and Dom were there—wrapped around his mate as always—but no
Grayson. Her nerves were already taut as piano wire. Just what would it be like
when she actually had to lie under pressure? Arabella bit her lip, then
immediately stopped when she tasted the red lipstick she wore.

When Lucas saw her the corner of his mouth
curled into a wicked grin. “Be still my heart, Arabella. Aren’t you a sight for
sore eyes?”

She started to laugh and say something funny
back, but then Arabella saw the way Beth hunched her shoulders and looked as
hard as she could
away
from Lucas. Arabella recognized the signs of a
quarrel—she was quite familiar with breaking up lovers’ fights—and Beth and
Lucas looked like they were caught in between a doozy of one.

“Excuse me,” Beth said and adjourned from the
room. Lucas watched her go. Not even thirty seconds passed before he made
another excuse and left the room.

No one else seemed to feel the tension in the
room, too caught up in themselves. Felicity and Dom were wrapped around each
other, whispering; Felicity smiled at something he said. Vas once again typed
something on his phone and Diane was caught up in a conversation with her
hairstylist.

That’s when Grayson entered the room quiet as
an assassin. He stopped as soon as he saw her. The only thought that came to
mind when she saw him was—
Lord have mercy.

She was absolutely screwed.

He was the most perfect looking man she’d ever
seen. He always had been, not that you could get her to admit such aloud. The
vampire had also been mated for as long as she could remember.
That long.
Which meant he should be
way
off limits, especially now after his mate’s
passing. Yet, that did nothing to stop her wildly inappropriate thoughts about
the vampire. He walked toward her making her throat squeeze tight until only wisps
of air could pass through.

He wore a sharp, black tuxedo complete with a
matching bowtie. He’d shaved, too. The thick growth across his jawline was gone
and in its place revealed his angular jaw and pronounced straight nose. He wore
a pair of black sunglasses and someone had cut his hair to half its previous
length giving him a clean-cut, businessman appearance.

I likey. I likey a lot.

“Ready to go?”

“As ready as I can be.”

He nodded then turned to the room. “We’re
ready.”

Dom stepped forward and pulled Grayson into a
brotherly embrace. “Stay safe, my brother. Come back to us.” Grayson stiffened
at his brother’s touch but he returned the embrace with his own fierce hug.

“Plan on it,” Grayson said.

Then he grabbed her hand and they left for
Donato’s underground casino. He drove her in a pure white sport’s car that sat
low to the ground, had heated leather seats, and went far faster than her own
little car.

Grayson spared her a glance as he navigated the
dark roads. It was late, half past eleven. The moon sat low on the horizon,
full and bright. It looked so close to earth, like you could reach out and
touch it. Clouds that brought to mind howling wolves and evil spirits ominously
framed the opalescent rock.

“You’re nervous,” he said.

Startled at his observation, she said, “Yeah, I
guess I am. Remember I can’t shift or fight. And this feels a whole lot like I’m
going to a knife fight without a knife.” Her pale legs stuck out in sharp
contrast to the black leather seats. She crossed them and gulped when that only
seemed to make them look more provocative. “I hate this dress,” she finally
said, in lieu of saying any of the other thousand things on her mind.

“Why?”

“Let’s just say I’m a jeans and tee kind of
girl and leave it at that.”

He looked at her and this time, for whatever
stupid reason, she looked back making the connection. It was so hard to look
him in the eyes when she felt scared and vulnerable. How was she supposed to be
tough and strong in a damn short dress and high heels? What was she supposed to
do if she had to run?

“A woman attending an event by the Donatos
doesn’t wear jeans,” he said.

“Hence why I’m not in my jeans,” she said more
sharply than she wanted to.

“I will protect you.”

She noticed he didn’t say something like
everything
will be fine
. Probably because it wouldn’t be. Hell, it couldn’t be. They were
going to the underground casino to find at least one of the Donatos. Her
ability told her that Jericho Donato, The Butcher, was there. Or at least he
spent an awful lot of time there since that’s the location she’d tracked him
to. They couldn’t take backup or weapons since they were sure they’d be frisked.
They were all alone on this mission that also had a high probability of
failing.

“Well, I just can’t wait for all the fun to
start.”

“You remember my new name?” he asked.

She laughed. “How could I forget—Jeremy

“Let’s go.” He spoke between clenched teeth. He
hated the nickname she’d given to his new name. Naturally that only made her
want to use it more.

“Whatever you say—Jeremy”

Why did he have to be here? And looking high as
a kite, too!

Beth Hamilton couldn’t stand to stay in that room
another moment with Lucas Blackmoore. Bitter memories rushed to the surface at
the sight of him. The concert she attended with tickets from him—the night
where he jumped down off the stage and chased after her into the night. Her
heart had never raced so hard in all her life as it had then. The vampire whose
music she had listened to during the worst times of her life while she was
stationed in Iraq had caught up to her easily, and with spellbinding speed, he’d
raced them to his apartment not far from the concert. It was the strangest and
most exciting night of her life. While there with him something had happened.
Something that not even her, the queen of blunt-honesty, could be truthful
about.

Not even to her best friend, Felicity.

Felicity had pushed and pushed to find out what
happened after the concert. When Beth finally gave in and answered—it was a
lie. Probably the biggest lie she’d ever told in her adult life to someone she
loved. Sure she’d snuck out of the house as a teenager and said all sorts of
lies to her mama and dad to cover it up. Some of them stuck, others not so
much. None of those lies were as big as this.

She’d told her friend that they kissed. That
Lucas Blackmoore had kissed her, then she’d left his apartment and that was it.
But that isn’t the truth. The truth…the truth was—

Thoughts shattered as the kitchen door swung
open and vampire from her memories swept inside. His scowl could scare kids
away better than any horror mask. His eyes were so red they almost looked like
fake contacts. His pale skin looked like he didn’t take care of himself. What
had happened? They hadn’t spoken since that last night. When she found him
after the concert he’d invited her to. The night that ruined everything.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped.

Both dark, perfectly curved eyebrows rose. “This
is my family’s house,” he said in way of explanation.

“No shit. I know that. Why did you follow me to
the kitchen, Lucas? Have a sudden craving for tuna?”

He grimaced with disgust at the mention of
human food. “I’d rather cut my own stomach out.”

Eyes widening, she nodded with false
enthusiasm. “That sounds like a great idea. Go do that!” She spun around to
collect herself. God dammit. She was too mad.
Rein it in, girl. Don’t let
him see that he can still affect you.

As if it she could easily ignore the one man
she’d obsessed over for years.
Years
of her life.

“How’s that man you’ve been seeing? What was
his name again…Michael?” he asked. When she didn’t answer he tried another one.
“Are you still with him?”

What does it matter to you
, she wanted to snap.
But she held her tongue like a smart woman. He didn’t deserve or require
anything from her. He’d had a chance and that had been ruined in one night—making
her the fool. And she wouldn’t play the part of the fool again, not even for
him.

“Fine, you don’t want to talk to me. I’ll
leave.” The kitchen door banged as it slammed shut.

Beth spun around to watch him leave and cursed.
He hadn’t left. He still stood there. Though now wearing a self-deprecating
smile. He slapped his chest then held his arms out. “Still here, baby. You
gonna pretend I’m not here now or are you gonna talk to me?”

“I have nothing to say to you.” How far from
the truth that was. She had lots she’d like to say to him. Like calling him an
asshole, a piece of shit, a womanizer—just to name a few.

“I guess you’re still pissed then,” he said
dryly.

He almost got her to laugh. His sarcastic
remark nearly made her forget her anger for a moment, but at the last second
she kept control. “You could say that.”

Those golden-brown eyes trailed down her body
and back up slowly, giving her body time to warm to his gaze. How she wished it
wouldn’t, but her body betrayed her for him. It always did.

Then he stalked toward her. She backed up
quickly, the war injury on her bad knee flaring in pain as she jerked it the
wrong way. Wincing, she didn’t stop moving until the counters stopped her
retreat. He stood close enough for their legs to touch. For her to feel the
heat from his body.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her strong
voice reduced to a quiver.

“I need to explain to you what happened.”

Like that, instantaneously, her mind pulled a
one-eighty and the quiver in her voice was forgotten. “Oooh, nooo, sweetie pie.
I don’t think so. Maybe you’re under the wrong impression but what I saw you
doing with those two,” she paused searching for the right word, “sluts, doesn’t
need any explaining.” Her chest rose and fell in hard waves as she formed a
fist with her left hand—her throwing hand.

He grabbed her hand and before she could yank
it away, placed a swift kiss to her knuckles, stunning her. “Now why would you
call Caitlyn and Amber sluts?”

In a cartoon, steam would shoot from her ears. “Maybe
’cause they were both sucking your cock. At the same time,” she shot back. She
cocked her hip and leaned forward with her angry comeback, which inadvertently
made her nipples touch his chest. “At the concert you personally invited me to.”

“I—” he looked away, that hard jaw sliding side-to-side,
“I know there’s no excuse, but if you’ll listen to me for one minute I might be
able to shed a little light on the situation.”

“Nah! You know, you keep that explanation in
your pocket where it keeps you from feeling guilty. You need it more than I do.”
She tried to move past him, but he only stepped into her, leaning her further
back against the cabinets. Now they really were touching each other. Her breath
hitched in her throat as sensations bombarded her that she hadn’t felt with
anyone but him.

“You’re tough, Beth. It’s something I like
about you, but it’s also irritating as hell. You don’t make it easy, that’s for
damn sure.”

“Don’t make what easy?” she asked, slightly
breathless. Only because he stole all the air in the room. Bastard.

“Apologizing, explaining. Hell, just trying to
talk you.”

Achingly aware of him, Beth looked away. “You
shouldn’t care anyway. It’s not like we were ever a couple.”

No sooner had she said the words did his eyes
begin to glow. Beth remembered that look. His eyes had done it right before he
chased her in the middle of of of his concert and after he’d—even now, she
hesitated to
think
about what he did to her that night in his apartment.

His head came down closer, sensual intent
written in his eyes.

“Lucas,” she gasped. His gaze dropped to her
mouth and then slowly slid down to the side of her neck where her jugular
pounded a furious tempo.

“I can still remember your taste. It haunts me.”
He cupped her cheek and the memory came. No matter how hard she tried to
suppress it, to go along with the lie she’d concocted for Felicity and for
herself, she couldn’t do it. He’d shoved past her barriers with brutal force.

The memory came. Pressed flush against the wall
of his apartment much as they were. He’d kissed her, only she wouldn’t really
call it a kiss. More of a brushing of lips. For that was only the appetizer to
what he really wanted. To what he really did. As he’d pulled her into his arms,
paralyzing her with his touch, his lips had found her neck. How mastered he’d
made her feel, owned. When two sharp teeth scraped the skin of her neck
accompanied by the lash of his wet tongue, she knew he was going to bite her—that
he needed to. She’d sensed then much as she did right now standing in this
kitchen, that he was going to bite her.

And he had.

“Sweet, sweet, Beth. If only you knew my dreams…my
nightmares… If only you knew.” He looked about to say more but instead he
cupped her cheek and grinned ruefully.

See, that’s what he could do
, she thought bitterly,
pushing him away. He could make her forget things that couldn’t be forgotten—like
the blowjob she caught him getting by two girls.

Spinning past him, she whisked by. “I’m done
with this conversation. Goodbye, Lucas.”

Lucas grabbed her arm pulling her to a stop. “Where
are you going?”

“Away from you,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” he shot back. He checked
his attitude and tried for a patient tone. “Please, let’s talk about this once
and for all.”

Growling, she shoved him away. Surprisingly he
actually moved back. She laughed bitterly. “This conversation is over. Just
leave me alone.”

She turned and started walking the other
direction. Again, he reached her but this time he wrapped her in his arms,
crushing their bodies together. Her breath hitched and the memory came back.
One she’d tried so hard to forget but couldn’t. That one moment that had
completely changed her life. When Lucas Blackmoore had bitten her. They’d very
much been in a position just like this one.

“Don’t,” she said, pushing against his chest.

His hard chest pushed against her hands with
his ragged breathing. “Don’t what? Don’t kiss you like we both want?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t want that. I
want you to let me go.” Even as she said it she knew her body wanted that kiss
very much. Wanted to know if it would be just as electric as the first time,
just as soul searing, just as mind blowing.

One arm wrapped tight around her waist, giving
her no room to escape as he cupped the back of her head. “Little liar, you
missed it just as much as I did.”

Her eyes shut as a pain bloo3med where her heart
was. He missed it. “Then you shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t say it,” he warned.

“How can I not? I can’t forget it.”

“God dammit! It was a mistake!”

His eyes burned bright, glowing with his
vampire strength. And that was all that warning she got before his mouth
crashed down on hers. Their lips met, soft flesh to soft flesh. His tongue sparked
between her lips and pushed inside to thrust in her mouth.

A moan escaped her, muffled by their fused
mouths. She’d forgotten. Oh lord, how had she forgotten his taste…the texture
of his lips and tongue? The raspy glide of his tongue stroking hers, the soft
wet feathery touch of his lips. Groaning, he pulled her even closer, one hand
curling around her bottom and arching her into his erection. She clung to him,
fighting his kiss with her own—determined to win.

He tore his mouth away to rein hot kisses down
her neck. His fangs were sharp points, threatening her sanity as they pressed
teasingly into her skin and reminding her of that first incredible bite. She
wanted it so badly she shook with need. Yet, she struggled to find sanity.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Stop this, please.”

Another groan as he flexed his hips against
hers, rubbing that wicked erection against her.

“No, no. I said no!”

She shoved him and stepped back. They were both
breathing hard. His head faced down, glowing eyes on her. Lips parted to reveal
white sharp fangs. He glowered at her. Arousal mixed with anger flaring in his
eyes.

“You want me,” he said in that silken voice of
his. A musician’s voice.

“My body may want you but I don’t.”

His eyes narrowed, anger filling them. “Then
give me your body.”

“Fuck you!”

“That’s exactly what I want.”

Beth snapped her mouth shut. “I
hate
you.”

And then his expression changed into one of
indolence. He shrugged looking arrogant and confident. “You can hate me and
still fuck me, Beth. I’ve experience with that kind of thing and believe me it
makes for the best sex.”

Laughing didn’t ease the pain from his words,
but slapping him did. She left without another word.