Rush of Pleasure Page 13

  He jolted, feeling something heavy and sweet roll through him, shaking him apart. He trembled as he lowered his lips to hers, claiming her mouth with an urgent, desperate kiss. “Please,” he gasped against her lips, settling his hips between her legs. He could feel the wet, scalding heat of her sex through his jeans, a violent need roaring through him that made him tremble and curse. “Christ, Will. Please. I need to be in you,” he groaned, rubbing the aching ridge of his cock against those slick, plump folds. “Tell me I can have you. Tell me now.”

  “Sit up,” she told him, pushing at his bunched shoulders. He wanted to howl with frustration, until she said, “Sit up and open your jeans. Hurry. I want to see you.”

  “Whatever you want,” he growled, loving the bite of her nails in his shoulders as he quickly kissed his way down her body again, taking another greedy taste of her, his tongue lapping at her pink, wet sex. Then he braced himself on his knees as he ripped open his fly, shucked the jeans below his hips and showed her his body.

  “Noah.” The longing in her soft voice as she said his name, her dark gaze focused in hard and tight on his hungry cock, made him shudder. Then she sat up and wrapped one of those soft hands around him, and he nearly died.

  “You don’t fit,” she said playfully, unable to close her fingers around his thick width, his cock harder than it’d ever been before. “I mean, I always knew you’d be huge, but…geez. Don’t you think this is a bit extreme?”

  “I’ll fit where it counts,” he rasped, unable to keep from rolling his hips when she added her other hand, stroking him in a hard, tight pull that drew a drop of moisture at the flared tip. “You’ll take every inch of me, Will.”

  She bit her lip, looking as if she wanted to lean down and cover him with her mouth, licking him the way he’d licked her—but there was something in her eyes as she looked up that told him he wasn’t going to like what came next.

  “I want you so badly,” she told him, still gripping him in her hands, “but I meant what I said before. We…we can’t have intercourse.”

  Yep. He definitely didn’t like it.

  “Why?”

  She looked away, and he nearly howled for the second time that night. “Damn it, Will. What is it? You know I would never hurt you. If it’s the fangs, I promise I can control myself. I won’t bite you.”

  “It’s not the fangs,” she said, shaking her head.

  Frustration burst out of him in a violent, graveled string of curses that had her pulling her hands away and scooting out from under him, her back to the headboard as she pulled her legs to the side. He scrubbed his hands over his face, wondering what the hell was going on, when a hard knock suddenly rapped against the door to their room.

  Hanging his head forward, he muttered, “Shit.”

  “It’s Damon,” she whispered.

  He grunted and she moved off the bed. From the corner of his eye, he watched as she pulled on her clothes, and wanted to fucking cry. Or kill something with his bare hands. Like the demon.

  “Well,” she said when she was dressed, her gaze carefully focused on his face, instead of his cock. “Let him in.”

  Noah ground his jaw as he refastened his jeans and rolled off the bed, thinking the situation seemed fitting.

  After all, there was a bloody demon at his door.

  And he’d definitely landed in hell.

  IF THERE WAS one thing Damon knew, it was how to make someone angry. At least, that’s what his ex had said, just before she tried to slit his throat. And judging by the look on Winston’s face as he ripped open the door, the human was picturing something right along those lines.

  He also looked like a man who’d just been interrupted in the middle of something really…important. Poor bastard. Damon almost felt sorry for the guy.

  “Did you get lost?” the human growled. “Because your room is next door.”

  “I’m not here to sleep,” he said in an easy drawl. He was buzzing on so much energy after the hot little redhead that he’d found in the nightclub, he probably wouldn’t sleep for a few days. “I came to look at that spell for you.”

  Noah muttered something creatively foul under his breath, but he did step aside to let Damon through the doorway. “You have shitty timing, MacCaven.”

  “So I’ve been told.” He knew better than to wait for an invitation as he strode past the human and into the room. Willow was standing beside the rumpled bed, looking all rosy and mellow, her mouth kiss-swollen, eyes hazy with satisfaction, which explained the sweet scent of pleasure lingering in the air. Good for her. He loved Low and wanted her to be happy. Not many guys had caught her eye over the years, and he’d never seen her watch a man with as much hunger as she did Winston.

  The human stalked over to the bag he’d left on the sofa, rummaged around inside and then crossed the room again and handed Damon some folded sheets of paper. “This is a copy of the passage in the journal.”

  “Okay, let’s see what we have,” he murmured, taking a seat on the foot of the bed. He recognized the obscure demonic dialect the spell was written in, but only because his mother had forced him to study the ancient demon languages when he was young. She’d been fanatical about history, and though he’d hated the lessons when he’d been a boy, a lot of the things he’d learned from her had served him well as a man.

  Willow and Noah paced as he read, their nervous energy vibrating against his highly sensitive skin. Their restless movements would probably have driven him crazy, if he hadn’t been so absorbed in what he was reading.

  “It’s a helluva spell,” he said twenty minutes later. Rubbing his jaw, he looked at Noah and asked, “Do you know what it does?”

  The human crossed his arms over his bare chest and leaned his back against the door. “Will mentioned to you on the way here that her aunt told us it’s a Death-Spell. One of the most powerful she’d ever seen. She said it could kill anything.”

  Damon nodded. “She was right, to a point. But do you know exactly what it does?”

  “You mean how it works?” Willow asked, perching her bottom on the edge of the sofa. Some of her rosy flush had faded, but her mouth was still red, her golden curls tumbling over the side of her face, making her look like one of those bombshells in an ad for designer jeans. He hoped Winston knew what a lucky guy he was, then thought about the prophecy that had been read at Willow’s birth, as well as the spell he was holding in his hand, and decided that lucky might not be such a great description.

  “Damon?” she said, trying to catch his attention.

  “Sorry,” he rumbled, a crooked smile on his lips. “I was just thinking about how gorgeous you are.”

  Her cheeks turned pink, and he didn’t have to glance at the human to know that Noah was giving him a deadly glare. There was definitely something powerful going on between these two, and he couldn’t help but wonder how this was all going to play out in the end.

  For all the hunger blazing between them, he could also sense an underlying current of tension. One he figured was going to get cranked higher, and higher, as the days wore on. It would be interesting to see if Winston could take the pressure. But one way or another, he had a feeling Willow was finally going to know just what the human’s feelings for her were.

  In Damon’s opinion, it was an answer that’d been a long time coming.

  It was Noah who spoke next. “Christ, MacCaven. Are you going to tell us how the spell works or not?”

  Setting the papers to the side, he hunched forward so that he could brace his elbows on his knees, his fingers threaded together in a loose hold. “It sucks the evil out.”

  “Sucks the evil out?” Willow shook her head and frowned. “What do you mean?”

  He slowly arched an eyebrow. “I mean if you have sins you’re thinking of confessing, it’d be good to do it before performing this spell. Because it feeds on any life force that is inherently evil and consumes it. All that’s left behind is the shell.”

  “So then it’ll work on the Casus,
as well as the Death-Walkers?” Noah asked.

  “It could,” Damon replied, settling his gaze back on the human. “But it isn’t the kind of spell you can pull off at the drop of a hat. It’s going to require some careful planning.” His brows lifted, and he paid close attention to the human’s expression as he said, “Plus, the catalyst isn’t one that’s going to be easy to come by, unless you’re carrying a source around with you.”

  “Was Jessie right about that, as well?” Willow muttered. “About the virgin’s blood?”

  Damon kept his gaze on Winston as he nodded. “The virgin’s blood is the main catalyst, just like Jessie told you. It needs to be placed in a special ritual circle that’s pretty fucking complicated to make, but I can manage it. But the virgin’s blood isn’t the only blood you’ll need. You need the blood of the damned to pull off the first part.”

  The human was back to scowling. “What’s the first part? How many parts does this spell have?”

  “The first part of the spell will draw the Death-Walkers to the circle and trap them within its power. That only encompasses a certain area, depending on how big you make the circle.”

  Winston’s blue eyes started to glow, and Damon knew the guy liked what he was hearing. He wondered how long that feeling would last, considering he was pretty damn certain that Willow hadn’t fessed up yet. Then the human answered his question for him, saying, “So let me see if I’ve got this right. You’re telling me that once we get our hands on some ‘damned’ blood, we’ll be able to use it to pull those bastards to one location, and then use the virgin’s blood to kill them all at the same time?”

  “Every single one,” Damon rasped, wondering just how badly she was going to hurt him when he spilled her secret. Knowing Low, he might not be able to walk for a week.

  “And seeing as how Damon is a demon,” she murmured, “he’ll be able to provide the blood of the damned.”

  “If you ask sweetly.”

  Willow slid him a wry smile. “I guess it’s a good thing we came after you.”

  He lifted his shoulders in an easy shrug. “Hey, I’m happy to help.”

  “WHY?” NOAH ASKED, unsure of the demon’s motives. “Exactly why are you so eager to help, MacCaven?”

  Damon raised his brows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “For one, it isn’t your war.”

  “Hey, it’s not like I asked to get involved.” The demon slanted him a narrow look, clearly insulted by the line of questioning. “But you’re the one who told me these Death-Walkers are killing innocent people. The way I see it, that makes it everyone’s war.”

  Christ. Noah couldn’t believe it. The demon really did have a conscience.

  Willow quickly steered the conversation in a new direction. “Is there anywhere specific that the spell has to be performed?”

  Damon shook his head. “We can choose the location, so that’s good. If there are as many Death-Walkers running around as you guys think, then we’re going to need someplace in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Kansas,” Willow blurted, and they both looked at her. “I worked a case there a few months ago, near a little town called Sampson. The family that hired me owns several acres practically in the middle of nowhere. There’s some swanky resort in the area, and a few local farms. But nothing else for miles around. It would be perfect for what we need and I can guarantee that no one will be there. I just talked to the family last week and they were leaving for a month-long trip to Australia.”

  “I’m thinking this Sampson place sounds like a good idea,” Damon rumbled, the streak in his hair once again a bright electric blue, as was the symbol at the side of his throat. His dark eyes glittered with humor. “But you’re not getting me in a cowboy hat, Low, no matter how much you beg.”

  She snorted, and Noah felt like he was missing a private joke.

  “And what about the virgin?” he practically growled, feeling stupid for feeling left out. “Do you have any suggestions where we might be able to track one down?”

  “Believe it or not, that won’t be a problem.” A flat smile twisted the corner of the demon’s mouth. “We already have someone who can help with that little issue.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Noah tensed, as if he knew a blow was coming, but didn’t know from which direction. “Who?”

  “A friend of mine,” Damon drawled.

  Noah narrowed his eyes. “Call me crazy, but I find it kind of hard to believe that a sex-eater would hang out with a virgin.”

  “Well, you can believe it, because she’s right here.” Then the idiot jerked his thumb toward Will, who looked ready to take the demon’s head off.

  “You think Will’s a virgin?” Noah shook his head and snorted. “I don’t think so.”

  “Yeah?” The demon’s chest shook with a breathless laugh. “Tell me, Winston, did she or did she not have sex with you tonight?”

  “Damon,” she snarled, “not another bloody word, I swear. Or you are going to seriously pay!”

  All traces of humor fled the guy’s expression as he looked away from Noah, and locked his gaze with Willow’s. “I’m sorry, honey. But you were gonna have to come clean with the guy sooner or later. I mean, you are what’s needed for the ceremony. You think that’s just coincidence?”

  For a breathless span of seconds, all Noah could do was stare, the past forty-eight hours he’d spent with her slamming through his brain in rapid time. When it all crashed together, he nearly fell on his ass. “A virgin?” he croaked, thankful for the door supporting his back. “I don’t believe it.”

  She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Then she stood, pulled her shoulders back and looked right at him. “I hate to say it, but you can. Believe it, that is.”

  “Jesus, Will. That doesn’t make any goddamn sense!”

  “Yeah, well, that’s one of the great things about life, Noah. Things don’t always make sense. And I don’t have to explain a single thing to you. Wonderful, isn’t it?”

  He could feel his frustration being shaped into something ugly and raw, but there was no stopping it. He crossed the room before he even realized what he was doing, and found himself towering over her. “You can drop the damn sarcasm, Will. I want to know why.”

  “We all want lots of things, Noah.” The quiet words rang with a kind of eerie finality that chilled him. “But most of us never get them.”

  His pulse raced as he stared down into her pale face, his heart pounding like a bitch. He wanted so badly to argue and shout until she’d given him the explanation he wanted, but he knew she was too stubborn to bend. If she didn’t want to tell him, she wouldn’t. And nothing he said was going to change that.

  Clenching his jaw so tightly it hurt, he turned away from her and went to his bag, took out a shirt and pulled it over his head. Then he shoved his feet into his boots, grabbed his cell phone and the fresh pack of cigarettes he’d bought and stalked toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, just before he slammed out of the room.

  He didn’t bother to turn around as he said, “I need to let the others know about the spell.”

  “And then what? Are you going to just leave me here?”

  Noah gripped the handle so hard, he was surprised it didn’t break. “It’d be better if I did.”

  “Why?”

  He could feel the pain beneath her anger, and hated that she was hurting, even when he was pissed enough to turn her over his knee for keeping something like this from him.

  “Because now you know you’re not getting laid?”

  “You saw what happened tonight.” He cut her a dark look over his shoulder. “This is getting too dangerous.”

  “For who? A virgin?” She pulled in a deep breath, looking like an enraged little goddess, her dark eyes glowing with fury. “I’m still me, Noah. I don’t need you or any man to take care of me. I can take care of myself!”

  “And not to butt in or anything,” Damon drawled, “but you’re kinda gonna need her for th
e spell. Remember?”

  Noah scowled, not even bothering to give the smart-ass a reply.

  Willow crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “You can’t ditch me now, Noah. Even if you want to. We had a deal. I helped you find Damon. Now you’re going to help me with my sister.”

  IT WASN’T LIKE they had anything in writing, but that was the way Willow was choosing to interpret their agreement.

  “We’ll talk about this later.” His rigid expression said that he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of the room…and away from her. “Right now, I have to make this call.”

  The second the door closed behind him, Damon looked at Willow and raised his brows. “You sure you know what you’re doing with this guy, Low?”

  “Don’t I always?” she muttered.

  Damon laughed as he rubbed two fingers over his stubbled jaw. “Then I guess this should be fun to watch.”

  “I wouldn’t look so thrilled if I were you,” she said softly, flicking him a deadly glare from beneath her lashes. “Or did you forget that you’re the one with the blabbermouth?”

  “You can’t hold that against me,” he argued, though he at least had the grace to look guilty. “You never would have fessed up, and the man needed to know.”

  “Why?” she asked, wondering why he couldn’t have just stayed the hell out of her business.

  Damon rolled his eyes. “Because I don’t believe in accidents, that’s why. Everything that happens, happens for a reason.”

  It was impossible to sound anything but snide as she said, “So my virginity is going to be the answer to everybody’s prayers? Wow, lucky me.”

  “Think about it, Low. This is more than just coincidence. It has to be. Winston walks back into your life after all this time, and he just so happens to need help with a spell that requires a warrior’s virgin blood? What are the odds?”

  She’d purposefully avoided thinking about the odds…or the spell…or what it all meant. And she didn’t like thinking about it now. She knew how fate worked. It would catch up with her whether she wanted it to or not. There was no sense in trying to run from it.