Wicked Flames (Solsti Prophecy) (13 page)

The faint color in her face deepened to scarlet and she sucked in a quick breath. Her eyes flicked to his mouth. Her voice was barely a whisper. “It involved a little of…that.”

“You mean this?” He brushed his lips across her arm again, moving a little higher.

She nodded, green eyes huge.

He dropped his hand from her back to her sexy ass and squeezed. Gods, he’d been dying to do that since she’d opened her apartment door in that shorts-tightening little dress. “And this?”

“Yeah.”

He released her wrist and brought his hand to her nape, sliding it into her silky dark waves. His fingers tightened, grabbing a fistful of her hair, and held it close to her scalp. “This?”

Her fingers flexed into his shirt. Her eyes glazed over. She tried to nod.

He didn’t allow her to move, keeping his hand firmly in place. “I want you to tell me, Gin. You want this?”

A breathy whimper escaped her throat and she swallowed. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He moved his hand around to her throat, lightly tracing the strap of her dress. She tilted her head, exposing the long column of her neck, and Gods above, he wanted to mark her perfect skin.

A shudder shook her slender frame, and he took a measure of satisfaction in seeing goose bumps erupt along her shoulder.
Hell yeah.
Her body was throwing off all kinds of signs and they all screamed
YES!
His cock surged, straining against his zipper.

He dragged a finger across her goose bumps, then brought his hand back to the tops of her breasts. Her cleavage had taunted him through the show. He wanted his hands, his mouth—hell, his cock right there in those soft mounds. Tracing the V of the neckline to its lowest point, he hooked one finger inside the dark satin. Her breasts rose and fell with staccato breaths, soft skin just millimeters from his fingertips, separated only by the thin black fabric.

He lowered his head and dotted kisses along her collarbone. “You like this?”

Her hands curled into his hair, gripping tight. “Yes.”

He looked up, his face inches from hers. “Anything el—”

Her lips were on his before he got the last syllable out. Soft and sweet. And so hungry. She nipped at him and he opened for her, letting her explore his mouth with her eager little tongue. The brief taste of her yesterday had awakened a primal need to make her his. That should’ve set off warning bells, but he wasn’t about to stop and question it. Raw lust took over.

He grabbed behind her knees and swung her legs up onto the seat to lay across his. She shifted her backside onto his thighs, settling on his erection like she was made for him. God, she was perfect. He rocked his hips and she let out a breathy moan.

Her hands dropped to his belt. She traced teasing circles across his abs, then shifted again. Lower. He groaned and flexed into her sweet ass. His shaft was rock hard and aching for her.

She moved her mouth to the lobe of his ear, nipping it as she palmed his cock through the thin fabric of his dress pants. He dropped his head back. Fuck. If her hands felt that good, how would the rest of her feel?

“You like that?” Her voice was low and teasing as she repeated his words.

“Hell yes, I do.” He met her gaze. “Ginger.”

A wide grin lit her face. “Ginger?”

“Yeah. Ginger. Wasn’t there an old TV show with a girl named Ginger, and all the guys back then secretly wanted her?” He’d spent enough time on Earth to know a few things about pop culture.

She giggled. “Oh yeah, they were stranded on an island or something.”

He cupped her face and stroked his thumbs along her cheeks. “I want you, baby. But not here in my car.”
Not the first time, anyway.

“Probably not a good idea.” She bit her lower lip.

So damn sexy.
He pulled her off his lap and set her on the seat next to him. “Front seat. Now.”

Her parted lips and flushed skin told him she was on board. “Okay.” She clambered out, taking her time and giving him a perfect view of her ass. Had to be on purpose.

He slapped her bottom and she squeaked. Taking a second to adjust himself, he then joined her in the front seat. The short drive to her apartment couldn’t go fast enough.

Gin’s phone chimed in her purse and she took it out to check it. “Ria,” she murmured, and put it back. “I’ll call her later.”

Ria’s about to get an earful
. Maybe he could get Gin to leave her phone at the door.

C
HAPTER
13

S
TARS
GLITTERED
IN
THE
DARK
sky as Mathias and Gin pulled into her parking lot, right next to her yellow Bug. She reached for the door handle, but he dropped his hand onto her bare smooth thigh. “Let me.”

“Okay.” She smiled, sultry confidence gleaming in her eyes.

He got out, walked around to her door, and pulled it open. Sliding his hands along her arms, he tugged her up from the leather seat, inhaling the scent of cinnamon mixed with desire. She set one of those fuck-me shoes on the ground, then the other.
Gods above
. His gaze roamed up her legs, her hips, her breasts, and finally her eyes, which were locked on him. Her breath hitched.

He leaned down and covered her mouth with his. Damn, the woman was irresistible. He couldn’t get enough of her lush lips. Her arms wound around his waist and she shivered.
Ah, hell.
As hot as they’d been in his car, it was still twenty degrees outside. “Let’s get inside.”

The walkway had been shoveled, but he held her close just the same. As much to keep her from slipping as to keep her sweet curves pressed against him. He did a quick scan of the area, detecting no supernatural creatures.

Her building had been warded months ago, and an extra spell put on her own apartment, though Gin and the other residents didn’t know that. Any wayward creatures would feel a sense of unease if they ventured too close, and wouldn’t linger. Luckily, this small town hadn’t attracted many others, except for this weekend’s uninvited visitors.

Gin unlocked the outer door and they slipped into the slightly musty smelling hallway. Halfway up the stairs, they were met with a high pitched barking and the thump of small paws.

“Muffy!” a female voice yelled from the upper hallway.

The terrier appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a cone and barking defiantly at Gin and Mathias. Right behind her was Cassie.

“Muffy!” Cassie scooped up her dog and cuddled her like a baby. “Didn’t you have enough excitement yesterday?” She looked at Gin and Mathias. “Sorry. She tried to escape again. She’s such a bitch.”

Gin giggled. “Aw, but she loves you. How’s she doing?”

“Better. Undaunted.” Cassie shook her head and stroked under her dog’s chin. Muffy licked her fingers.

“She looks ready to take on a pit bull,” Mathias said.

“Yeah, she thinks she can.” Cassie backed up, letting Gin and Mathias reach the second floor. “You guys look great. How was
Vôo de Dragão
?”

Gin grimaced. “Well…”

“Oh no, was it bad?” Cassie’s jaw dropped. “It’s supposed to be so good!”

“There was a little accident on stage,” Mathias said. “Everyhing’s fine, no one was hurt.” He summed up the incident with the fire quickly, as Gin looked like she’d rather talk about anything else.

“Wow, a fire? That’s crazy,” Cassie murmured.

“Yep, crazy.” Gin shrugged, but her voice was hollow.

“I miss all the good stuff. Oh well, back to grading essays on Shakespeare. See you guys later.”

“Don’t you have to turn those in? Tomorrow’s the last day to report scores.” Gin asked.

Cassie groaned. “Ugh, yes.” She looked down at Muffy, who was licking her cone. “I lost time yesterday, because of this one.” She gave her dog a squeeze and looked up at Mathias. “Thanks again for having a look around yesterday. Coyotes can be mean, especially when they’re in packs.”

He nodded, deciding to let her believe whatever she wanted about her dog’s attacker. “I can assure you there are no coyotes around.”
Because the hellhound probably ate them all.

“Good luck with your grading. See you tomorrow.” Gin took a step toward her door.

The second Cassie’s door clicked shut, Mathias reached for Gin’s hands. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and flashed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“I gave her the quickest re-telling I could.”

“I know. And it will be all over the newspapers tomorrow anyway. She would’ve asked me at some point.” A small shudder shook her shoulders.

He slid an arm around her waist. “Let’s get inside your apartment. It’s chilly in this hallway.”

Her place was cozy and colorful. A bright red couch dominated the living room, and next to it was a multicolored armchair. A coffee table piled with books and folders sat between them. A corner lamp stood like a tree in the corner, with three long arms extending over the chair. Each one was tipped with a different colored glass shade.

Two bookcases with garland draped across the tops were full to bursting. Textbooks squeezed in next to hardcover novels, with paperbacks laying across the tops. The upper rows had small models of atoms scattered in front of the books. Red and yellow balls connected by little white rods. The bottom row held a collection of romantic comedy DVDs covered in dust. He chuckled. “I take it you don’t watch a lot of movies?”

She laughed. “Oops. No, I don’t. I had nothing to do with those. My sisters brought them over. And you’re not supposed to look at the bottom row of people’s bookcases! I’m not responsible for any dust you see down there.”

“Right,” he drawled. “We can blame the dust fairies.” He studied her face for any kind of reaction. She had to have heard of fairies.

A mix of emotions crossed her face and she shook her head. “Dust fairies. Yes, I’m certain those exist. They’re thriving here in my apartment.” Her lighthearted tone managed to drip with sarcasm, and he decided to abandon the supernatural references. Hell, after that makeout session in the car, he was ready to ignore all thoughts that didn’t involve her bewitching body.

Gin walked over to the stereo, flipped open a Christmas CD, and pushed a few buttons. A second later, the throaty croons of U2’s “Baby Please Come Home” filled the room. She turned to stare at him, green eyes piercing, mixed emotions gone. Remaining in her heated gaze was a blatant sensual craving that sent blood rushing to his groin.

She tilted her head and twirled a lock of hair around one finger. “I owe you hot chocolate.”

And then some.
“Need help?”

“Not yet.” Moving with lithe grace, she sauntered into the kitchen. “Bet you’ve never had hot chocolate this good,” she called over her shoulder.

“Impress me.” He walked to the corner table next to the couch. Beneath a deep cobalt lamp sat two framed photos and a collection of tiny silver reindeer. He picked up the one with the red nose, surprised by its heaviness. Holding it in his outstretched palm, an idea formed in his mind. This little guy could come in handy.

His eyes fell to the pictures.
Sisters
. One of the three girls as children, and a more recent one of the trio in front of a Christmas tree. Nicole and Brooke had told him Gin avoided fire at all times. Glancing around, he didn’t see a single candle, though she did have a microscope sitting on a desk in the corner. Next to it was a small tabletop Christmas tree.

The delicate aroma of milk being heated wafted from the kitchen and he prowled into the room, which was dark save for the light over the stove. The
electric
stove. She lifted a pan from a burner and poured the warm milk into two mugs on the counter.

The distinct buttery smell of pecan instantly hit his nose. Gin stirred the hot chocolate with cinnamon sticks, further intensifying the olfactory barrage.

“This smells way better than the Coffeehouse,” He walked up behind her, admiring the view of her perfect ass in that tight little dress. Her hair hung long and loose down her back, and he threaded his hands into it, wanting to touch every inch of her.

She sucked in a breath and turned to face him, eyes huge. Cradling one mug in her hands, she offered it to him. “Taste.” Her voice was a strained whisper, a question and an offer combined.

He toyed with the ends of her hair. “Not first on my tasting list, Ginger.”

Her pulse ticked frantically at the base of her throat, and her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. “Not…first…?”

He took the mug from her and set it on the counter. “No.” Fuck, she was so gorgeous, standing here all dressed up for him. Dim light or sunlight, silk or jeans, she glowed with a fiery sensuality. He planned to explore every nuance of her heat, starting when he was buried inside her.

Holding her hair to the side, he kissed her shoulder. Her arms slid up his shoulders to clutch his biceps and a breathy moan escaped her.

Nipping, he moved to her collarbone. Her neck. Anywhere but her parted lips, where he knew she wanted him. He wanted her pliant, defenseless, and begging.

She gave a full-body shudder and tilted her head.

Pliant, defenseless, begging.
He gripped her hips and traced circles with his thumbs. “Can you guess what’s at the top of that list?”

“Um…” She blinked, but couldn’t hide the hunger in her eyes. “List?” Her hands dropped to grip the edge of the counter behind her.

He brushed his lips across her ear. “We’re gonna play a game.”

Her eyebrows raised. “What kind?”

“A guessing game.”

“Hmm.” She bit her lip. “Like twenty questions?”

“Only two questions.”

“What am I guessing?”

“I have something of yours.” He swept his hands up and down in the air in front of him. “On me.”

Her mouth dropped. “What? When did you—? Where?” her eyes darted over his chest and arms, and down to his open hands.

“You get two guesses. For each wrong guess, I kiss you.”

She folded her arms, pushing her breasts up and giving him a cock-hardening view of her cleavage. “That doesn’t sound so bad. How do you know I won’t guess wrong on pur—”

“After two guesses, you have to find it. Without talking. And you have to keep your eyes closed until you do.”