Night Games Read online

  He’d had enough of that in the military to last a lifetime. War was an ugly, grinding thing.

  Selina touched his hand, dragging him back to the present. He realized she was staring at him, waiting for him to answer her question. “Yeah, my stepdad is a werewolf.”

  “I guess that brings us back to—how did a man in a werewolf family meet a vampire agent?” She gave him a pointed look. “That’s not usually on the vacation to-do list.”

  He grinned at her. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  She bit into her food, unfazed by his observation. “Comes with the territory.”

  “So you ask everyone this many questions about their history? Or do you just want to know more about me, specifically?” Why he wanted to know, he couldn’t say. It shouldn’t matter.

  “A little of both, I guess. I’ve never met a Normal in Magickal law enforcement. Not an agent, anyway. You’re unique, and that makes me want to know why. Also, we’ve had wild and crazy awesome sex, so I’m curious about you. If it were a one-nighter, that would be one thing, but for the moment we seem to have agreed to an affair. I like to know what I’m in for.” She licked the crumbs off of her fingers, and he almost groaned watching that pink tongue swirl around her fingertips. His dick took that moment to remind him that only she had gotten off during their little couch caper earlier.

  He forced himself to look away from her mouth. “You know there are Magickal branches of all public services, right? Hospitals, police, military, etcetera.”

  “Yeah, I was around when that became a common practice.”

  “Right, well. I did a couple of missions with some Magickal units in the marines. Force Recon. I wasn’t special forces, but I’d spent enough time in country that I knew my way around. Every now and then they’d tap me for something because I was a Normal who could play both sides, as it were. One of the guys I worked with—a vampire—introduced me to Luca.”

  “Ah. Okay.” She drummed her fingers on her leg. “What about your dad?”

  He blinked at the abrupt topic change, and realized this was how she kept her suspects off guard when questioning them. He wasn’t sure how to take that—being grilled like he’d committed a crime instead of giving her multiple orgasms. “What about him?”

  “Well, your mom remarried to a werewolf, right?” She propped her bare feet on the coffee table, and he grinned when he saw the fire engine–red toenail polish. Such a great metaphor for her—she kept the fire hidden where no one else could see.

  “Yeah.” He decided if he was going to be treated like a suspect, then he was going to be an uncooperative one. Let her ask what she wanted, but he wasn’t volunteering. It would be interesting to see what she wanted to know about him. How much was personal and how much was professional. So far, it had been pretty even, wanting to know about his career but also wanting to know why he’d made the decisions he’d made. Could go either way.

  She shot him a look, telling him she knew he was being difficult. “Which means your dad wasn’t in her life anymore ... right?”

  “He died when I was a kid. Cancer.” He winced when he said it. Decades later, and that word still stung, that life-stealing diagnosis. “It was totally out of the blue. He was a marine, so he went in for a routine exam, and they found something weird, so they checked it out and ... boom. Cancer. One day he was fine, and within a couple of months, he was gone.”

  Sympathy shone on her face. “It had to be rough to lose him so young. I’m sorry.”

  “It was rough for everyone.” An understatement. He’d spent a long time devastated and more than a little pissed off at the world. It was only a matter of time before everyone left him behind—his wife had more than proved that—but that first lesson in reality had been harsh. “My mom managed to hold things together for me, but I know she took it pretty hard. It took Darren a long time to get her to go out on a date with him. Good thing he’s stubborn, or Mom probably would have stayed single for the rest of her life.”

  “And now she’s a werewolf.”

  It wasn’t a question, but maybe it didn’t need to be. As far as he knew, if a fanged Magickal—the only two races who could turn Normals to Magickals—married a human, they turned them. He’d never heard of a husband or wife turning down the opportunity. No, only one stepson. He almost smiled, remembering the shock in his stepfather’s family when they learned he’d decided to stay human. They loved him, but they didn’t get it. No one did.

  “Yep, for about twenty years now.” And his mother seemed happy with that. He was happy for her. She deserved it after losing his father. “They waited until I was eighteen before my stepfather Changed her. Wolf magic can be unstable, and they didn’t want to leave me an underaged orphan.”

  “Sounds like a good way to handle the situation.” Her gaze turned thoughtful. “Do you like your stepfather?”

  He shrugged. “I love him. He makes my mom happy.”

  “He changed your life forever by making you both aware of magic,” she pointed out. “You don’t ever wish you didn’t know about this flaming hot mess that is the Magickal world?”

  A direct hit. He chuckled. “Our lives will never be the same again, but I think we’re both okay with how that turned out for us. Though I have to admit it’s been a big relief for me since Chloe’s project has had such a breakthrough. When her treatment hits the market, I won’t have to worry about either of them dying at the full moon.”

  The less he had to worry about the people he loved dying on him, the better. He’d had enough of that, and working in the field he did made it even more likely that those he was close to might meet a tragic end. He accepted it for himself and those who chose this life, but his parents were just regular people. He’d be just as happy not having to stress during the moon cycles.

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Are you considering letting your stepdad Change you, now that lycanthropy is becoming stabilized?”

  “No.”

  Now her dark brows rose. “You haven’t even considered it?”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “It wasn’t the danger that made me turn it down in the first place, so no, I haven’t considered it since the first time I said no.”

  “What was it that made you turn it down, then? Most Normals I’ve met over the centuries either fear or crave the powers of Magickals once they know they exist.” She tilted her head, scrutinizing him. “You don’t seem to fall into either category.”

  A smile that he knew was just a little bit mocking crossed his face. “And that bothers you, that you can’t fit me into some neat category?”

  “It makes me curious.” She waved a dismissive hand. “After this many years, I’ve found that the only thing you can expect from people—Magickal or Normal—is that they’ll surprise the shit out of you. So you’d better expect the unexpected or you’ll get caught with your pants down.”

  He flashed a grin. “I like you with your pants down.”

  She pursed her lips. “You’re a pain in the ass. Are you going to answer my question or not?”

  “I’m sorry.” He shook his head, exaggerating a baffled expression. “I’m still stuck on the mental image of you with no pants. What was the question?”

  “Why did you decide you didn’t want to be a Magickal?”

  “Because I’m not a Magickal.”

  “Is it really that simple?” The incisive look she gave him didn’t waver for a moment, and he was damn glad he wasn’t a criminal. He’d hate to face her in an interrogation, though he’d be glad to use her when they found a suspect for this murder.

  “Not everyone wants to live forever, Selina.”

  “Five hundred years isn’t forever.” A wry expression molded her features. “Especially when you’re in that final century.”

  “It might as well be forever to me. I’m looking at a hundred years, max.” He sighed, as unsure how to explain it as he’d ever been. “I was born Normal, that’s what I am. Everyone always asks ‘why not?’ But my question is
‘why?’ Why do I have to want to be something other than what I am?” He spread his arms and gestured down at himself. “There’s nothing wrong with what I am. If I’m okay with it, why can’t everyone else be? Magickals may see mortals as inferior, but ... this is who I am, and I’m good with that. I don’t want to be anything else.”

  “Most wouldn’t resist the offer of power, no matter what its form.” She tapped a nail against her knee, still watching his face for any breaks.

  “I don’t crave power, never have.” Not even as a teenager, when he’d first been given the offer. At first, staying human had been a small tie to his father, something to connect him to the life he’d had before he’d known about magic. But now? His stepfather’s offer still stood, he knew that. Now he was just... fine the way he was.

  “Huh,” she said.

  “What?” He used his chopsticks to spear a snow pea pod out of one of the cartons on the table. She was still staring at him when he sat back. His eyebrows arched. “What, Selina?”

  She licked her lower lip, and his gaze zeroed in on that unconsciously sensual movement. That tongue had slid over his body the night before, and he wanted that again. He wanted more from her. A lot more. For whatever reason, she’d decided to give him just that, even though they were working together day and night. His blood heated at the thought of the nights they’d have, and he reached out to run the tip of his finger from the top of her foot to her bent knee.

  A shiver went through her, and her gaze darkened in rising awareness. “I’ve never met a Normal like you. At least not one so young.”

  “What am I like?” He didn’t really care. His cock had gone hard in his pants, and he leaned closer to her to kiss her shoulder. Her perfume filled his nose, something sweet and edged in exotic spice. Perfect for her, and a heady aphrodisiac when mixed with the scent of her musky desire.

  “Confident. No bullshit.” Her voice was just a little breathless, and he liked that. She swallowed audibly. “Comfortable in your own skin.”

  He’d thought the same thing about her, but he wouldn’t argue with the assessment. Dodging live fire in a battle, and having life drop-kick him more than once meant he’d learned what he was made of a long time ago. He knew himself, and his chosen careers hadn’t left a lot of room for illusions, innocence, or any kind of bullshit. “And most Normals aren’t like that?”

  “No.” Her breath caught as he eased his hand under the edge of her pants and between her legs to tease the lips of her sex. She was wet, ready. “Especially not Normal men. Fragile little male egos that annoy the shit out of me. Toddlers have more maturity.”

  He snorted and leaned back, withdrawing his hand. “Wow. Okay. Tell me how you really feel.”

  “You’re wearing too many clothes.” Her gaze roamed over his body. “That’s how I really feel.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He chuckled, liking the way she looked at him, the way she talked about him, probably more than he should.

  “I can take care of that for you.” That little pink tongue darted out to lick her lips again, and his cock jerked in response.

  “Feel free.”

  A wicked grin formed on her face, and she snapped her fingers. Goose bumps rose on his flesh—one of the few indicators humans had when magic was in use around them. A rush of warm air swirled around his legs, and when he looked down, his clothes were neatly folded and sitting beside his bare feet. “Huh. There’s a trick I haven’t seen before.”

  “You like?” She purred, running one nail up his naked thigh. Her pajamas had also magically disappeared.

  “Uh-huh. I like.” He reached over with his chopsticks and pinched her nipple.

  “Hey!” She laughed and jerked back, smacking his hand away, but she shivered and both her nipples beaded tight. “Those things are greasy with Chinese food.”

  “You know, you’re right. I think I got something on you. Here, let me take care of that.” He dropped the chopsticks on the table, bent forward, and sucked the tip of her breast into his mouth.

  She moaned, her fingers threading through his hair. He liked her hands on him, but he wanted her silky skin rubbing against his. He wanted inside her. Tugging on her legs, he shifted their position until she stretched out beneath him on the couch.

  Ah, yeah. That was what he’d craved. Every inch of her slender body pressed to his. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, circled it, bit it lightly, and loved her sounds of pleasure kissing his ears.

  He touched her everywhere he could reach, the outsides of her thighs, up her ribs, the undersides of her arms. Sliding his hands until he held her wrists, he pulled them over her head to pin them to the couch cushion.

  Humming in her throat, she tugged at her wrists, but he held them there and sucked her earlobe into his mouth to distract her from the fact that he had her pinned. She could escape using magic, but she’d have to focus enough to put together a defensive spell. He’d found in his work that having a diversion ready to go at all times could save him from getting fried by even the most powerful Magickals.

  Now he used that to his advantage. He liked the way Selina’s stretched position arched her into him, pressed her breasts firmly against his chest. Sucking on her earlobe, he scraped it with the edges of his teeth. Her moan, and the shock of a hot pleasure spell streaking down his skin, told him the last thing on her mind was escaping his hold.

  Her legs wrapped tight around his waist, lifting her hips to rub her soaking pussy against the head of his cock. His teeth sank into her lobe and a groan ripped out of him. She squealed and tilted her head to shove her ear into his mouth. Jesus, she was so responsive, especially with those cute little elf ears. Something else he’d be taking shameless advantage of for as long as he had her in his bed. Or on her couch. The floor. Wherever, whenever he could get inside her.

  “Gods, Laramie.” She tugged at his grip on her hands in sharp, insistent jerks. “Will you fuck me already?”

  Hell, yes, he would. He shackled her wrists together in one hand, and used the other to reach between them to grasp his cock. He rubbed the head over her slippery folds and her hard clit while she arched herself higher and tried to force him into her pussy. He was tempted to make her wait, to tease her until she went crazy for him, but he didn’t have the restraint left.

  He wanted her too much to wait.

  Guiding himself to her opening, he eased in the first inch of his cock. He had to grit his teeth against the staggering sensation of her tight, slick heat closing around his dick. The sound of need that exploded from her did nothing to help his control. She snapped her hips up to take more.

  “Jack, Jack, Jack,” she chanted his name, and he couldn’t take the temptation.

  He thrust deep, hilting his cock in one swift movement. She screamed, tried to escape his hold on her again, and ground her pelvis upward. A groan dragged out of his throat at the explosion of sensations. Her body moving against him fed a need he’d never known he had, something that went deeper than he wanted to even consider. Dark, sizzling magic poured from her, sent fire arcing over his skin. Not a real burn, but it sank within him and fanned the flames inside. It was consuming, demanding he give everything to the experience.

  He bucked his hips, driving deeper into her, then withdrew and did it again. Jesus, it was perfect. He buried his face in her throat, sucking and biting the tendon that connected neck to shoulder. The intensity of the spell she cast raised every hair on his body and sent a shudder running through him. That wrenching dual perception of her desires and his melded in his consciousness. How she loved the way he pierced her, filled her, tangled with how it felt to thrust into her wet pussy.

  They both groaned in pleasure when he bit her throat, sighed when her legs tightened around his waist, rocking her body into his. Through it all, his rhythm didn’t falter. He plunged his cock into her, over and over, needing that connection.

  “You feel so fucking good, Selina. Tight. Wet.”

  She twisted in his arms, jerking at his restraining
grip, but he held tighter and moved to kiss her mouth. A diversion was definitely in order. Her lips parted under the pressure of his, her tongue thrusting out to tangle with his. The kiss went wild in moments, each of them biting, sucking, tasting, and taking. He slid his free hand between them again, rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts. She moaned into his mouth, and he felt her sex fist around his cock. A few more strokes, another flick of fingers over her clitoris, and she went over into orgasm, her explosive ecstasy bursting within his consciousness.

  It was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced, knowing—not just guessing—exactly how much pleasure he gave her, knowing how much she enjoyed his touch, how he turned her on, turned her inside out and made her scream. Nothing had ever even come close to this. Magic or chemistry, he didn’t know. He just knew it was phenomenal.

  Every plunge of his cock into her wet pussy caused another wave of climax to crash through her, sent another shock of a spell roaring over him, until he could do nothing more than give in to the orgasm that beckoned. The magic, the sheer physicality of being on her and in her, her soft skin on his, her slender wrists trapped in his hand. It was too much to resist, and his hips hammered against her, the slap of their skin echoing in the room as come burst from his cock to fill her.

  He groaned, shuddering. Burying his face in her throat, he sighed and relaxed against her. He should get up. Magickal or not, he was bigger than she was and he had to be crushing her. In a moment, he would move. Right now, he let himself enjoy the sensation of her pliant and soft body under him, of their hearts pounding, their breathing ragged gasps.