The Kindred s-3 Page 3

  Gaby was a tall woman, willowy in build, sleek with muscle. In comparison, he topped her by three inches in height and at least a hundred pounds. As he settled them both, her head fit under his chin, her hand rested over his heart. Holding her felt as right as anything he’d ever done in his life.

  Luther stroked up and down her back, sometimes going over her hip, sometimes her waist. He kissed her shoulder, the side of her neck around the choker he’d bought her, the choker she never removed. Soon he forgot his own motives. He was a man on the make, pure and simple.

  Little by little, Gaby relaxed. She even tipped her head to give him better access to her collarbone.

  With a soft groan, Luther leaned her back and put his mouth over her breast, drawing on her nipple.

  Her fingers knotted in his hair, thrilling him with the sign of life, of response—and of willingness.

  The pulled drapes left the room dark, shadowed only by the flickering light of the television. Luther could still hear the raging wind and rain battering against the window, and he heard Gaby’s breathing as it deepened.

  He lifted back up to take her mouth in a voracious kiss that consumed them both.

  She gave a heavy shudder, then suddenly clutched at him, encouraging him without words.

  “Gaby . . . ” He slid his hand along the inside of her thigh.

  After a fractured moan, she scowled at him. “You’re doing something to me.”

  “Yeah.” He nuzzled her face and smiled. Finally the fear had left her tone. She sounded accusatory, and angry. She sounded like the Gaby he adored. “I’m seducing you.”

  Color flushed her cheeks and turned her mouth rosy. Blue eyes bright, tone once again commanding, she said, “Are you going to have sex with me?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  She opened her mouth to protest that, and Luther pressed one hand between her thighs and found her warmer, softer.

  She went mute, and, slowly, her eyes sank shut.

  “Just relax now, okay?”

  Thunder clattered, and she stiffened. “Luther . . . ”

  He was so horny he hurt. “I’m right here.” He stroked over her, opened her, and pressed one finger deep inside her.

  The storm lingered overhead, jarring the house with flash and rumble; the television went off with a snap, leaving them in utter darkness and a silence broken only by the fury of Mother Nature.

  Gaby barely noticed. After a small flinch, her hips lifted and she squirmed against his hand. “The things you do to me . . . ”

  “I know.” He kissed his way from her throat to her mouth. “Kiss me.”

  She did, without reservation. Though he’d kissed her many times now, he’d be her first, so she was far from experienced. But she showed as much gusto for sexual matters as she did for hunting wicked beings.

  Her fevered enthusiasm soon had them both panting.

  He’d gotten her off like this once before, in an open parking lot where her savage screams had echoed across the concrete. Now he had her alone.

  Now he could finish this as he wanted.

  While Luther found a rhythm she liked, he kissed her everywhere, bit her gently, nibbled on sensitive peaks and licked sensual hollows.

  Gaby clutched his wrist, keeping his hand against her as if refusing to let him stop. But stopping was the last thing on his mind.

  “Luther.” She bit his shoulder without the gentleness he’d shown her. “Luther.”

  “Right here, honey.” He felt her strong muscles tightening and looked at her face. Never one to be timid, her gaze locked on his, magnifying the intimacy, sharing everything she felt. He watched the extraordinary shifting of her features, the sharpening of her expression. Gaby changed in infinitesimal, subtle ways when she embraced the acute pain of her duty—and when she gave herself over to extreme physical pleasure.

  From now on, Luther planned to immerse her in pleasure.

  Just as he saw her eyes darken and go vague, he felt the bite of her fingernails on his flesh and inhaled the scent of her desire.

  She came with the same primitive abandon she’d shown once before.

  As her climax faded, she went limp, and then dropped back onto the couch, sprawled inelegantly, her legs over his lap.

  In breathless wonder, she said, “Holy shit, Luther.” She kept her eyes closed and she didn’t smile. “That rocked.”

  Outside the wind whistled, but inside, warmth generated by their bodies, scented by their lust, filled the room. Need, satisfaction, rose up to glut Luther. Emotion permeated his soul. He stroked Gaby’s calf, over the arch of her foot.

  He’d never really noticed before, but she had narrow feet with a delicate arch. Graceful feet—feet that could deliver a kick deadly in intent.

  “Hey.” She remained still, her chest barely rising with her slow, even breaths. Luther kissed her ankle, just to get her attention. “You’re not going to sleep on me, are you?” He had a boner that demanded immediate attention. He would never rush her, but he hoped Gaby’s natural curiosity would see their relationship finally, fully, consummated.

  “I’m not tired.”

  Of course she wasn’t. Gaby never seemed to show the same weaknesses as others. “Then why so quiet?”

  Her sigh was part repletion, part frustration. “Just thinking.”

  That worried him. “About what?”

  Capable hands rested loosely over her pale belly. Baby-fine, tangled hair fanned out behind her head. She shifted one shoulder and didn’t quite look at him. “About how much I detest cowards.”

  She meant herself, and Luther knew it. As the need to reassure her crowded in, sexual urgency took a backseat.

  For now.

  But it wasn’t easy with her lying there nude, relaxed, soft and feminine. Using one finger, he drew a circle on her inner thigh. “People can’t help the things that scare them, Gaby.”

  “Nothing scares you.”

  His short, sharp laugh corrected her error. “Losing you terrifies me.” He bent and kissed her belly. “Too much.”

  “I don’t know why.” She tangled her fingers in his hair and brought his head up so she could look him in the eyes. “I’m fucking pathetic.”

  “No.”

  “You don’t need me.”

  “But I want you.” He thought about that, before adding, “And I do need you.” He pulled her fingers from his hair and, moving up and over her, pressed her hand above her head. The full-body contact almost stole his thoughts, but this was too important to sidestep. “You, Gabrielle Cody, are intriguing, and frustrating, and sometimes foolhardy. You’re an enigma, and an angel on earth.”

  “An angel?” She made a rude sound—and stared at his mouth. “Sex must fuck with your head if you believe that crap.”

  He hushed her with a quick, soft kiss. “You care more than anyone I’ve ever known. Despite what you do or how you do it—”

  Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t verify the many ways she served her unique brand of justice.

  “—it’s always out of caring. I know that.”

  With her free hand kneading his shoulder, she shifted under him. “There’s a world of difference between what you think you know, and the bloody truth.” Before he could reply to that, she wrapped her legs around him. “We’re naked, Luther.”

  “Believe me, I’m well aware of that.” He caught her other wrist and brought that hand above her head, too. “I want to be inside you, Gaby.”

  “I’m not stopping you.”

  Tacit in her statement was the fact that she could stop him if she wanted to, and they both knew it. Gaby was more capable, more physical, than any person—male or female—that he knew.

  Bypassing that truth, he kissed her again, light and easy and full of hunger. “Knowing it’ll be your first time, that you’ll only be with me, is making me nuts.” He drew in a big breath. “But I need to know that you’re okay now. It’s still storming—”

  “Is it?”

  Her teasing
made him smile. It was so unique for her to show any lightness at all. She never laughed, never joked, and only at the rarest of times had he ever seen her smile.

  That she’d tease now gave Luther hope for progress. “It is. And the way that it affects you breaks my damn heart.”

  “I won’t whimper like a baby, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She pressed her hips up and gave a grudging truth. “Having you close blunts a lot of extraneous influences.”

  Sometimes the things she said boggled his mind. But she’d said it before, crediting him with the power to soften the harshness of her life. “I’d love it if you told me exactly what that means.”

  Her brows scrunched as she pondered her explanation. “It’s a little weird—but then everything about me is, right?” She didn’t give him a chance to correct or reassure her. “Somehow, Luther, you filter the call to duty, and in the process, my neuroses. They’re still there like a live beat inside my bloodstream, but your nearness keeps them tamped down and . . . manageable.”

  Hope, and guilt, stirred in Luther’s heart. If he could give her any relief, he’d be thrilled. But at the same time he knew that what she did—and why—was important. The most important thing, at least to her.

  “The calling, too?” Was he keeping her from tracking down a bloodthirsty psycho?

  At the moment, did he care?

  She gave a tentative tug on her wrists, and when he didn’t release her, she relaxed again, her expression lazy, cocky as only Gaby could be. “I can get free anytime I want, you know.”

  Rather than acknowledge that claim, he said, “I would let you—if I thought getting free of me was what you really wanted.”

  She considered that, and let it go. “He’s out there, Luther. A monster in our midst. A sickness of humanity. He’ll torture, bleed, and kill innocent people, again and again. He won’t care how they scream or beg. He enjoys that. Catching him won’t be easy.”

  Luther sighed. In his line of work, he’d dealt with the criminally insane, and the just plain evil, many times. “It never is.”

  “It’s easier if you don’t interfere with me doing my duty.”

  Not her job, but her duty. How burdensome it must be to feel that the safety of others relied on how well you performed your duty—a duty that involved heinous, bloody deaths?

  For him, it was different. He was a cop who took great pleasure in seeing justice served. But Gaby’s form of justice would never fly in a court of law.

  She didn’t apprehend evildoers; she eradicated them.

  Using that awesome blade, and miraculous speed, agility, and cunning, she wasted the bogeymen.

  “I don’t want to get in your way, Gaby. I only want to help you.” And protect you, as much from yourself as from a society that would condemn you.

  She tilted her head to study him. “Are you going to fuck me?”

  Though he was used to her coarse language, Luther’s brain almost exploded. It was damned difficult, but he managed to say “No.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes, and she started to pull away in earnest. “Jerk.”

  He fought to hold her still. “I want to make love to you, Gaby.” A soft kiss to her pinched mouth stilled her struggles. “I’m going to show you that there’s a difference.”

  Curiosity lit her eyes. “Yeah?” Her chin jutted. “Tell me, but do it fast. Having you like this makes me achy. Inside, I mean. I feel almost . . . liquid.” Some of the antagonism faded as she admitted, “I’m not used to this stuff yet.”

  No, as a pariah to society, an outcast in her own mind, Gaby wasn’t used to any affection at all. In twenty-one years of life, she’d managed to isolate herself so thoroughly that she was by far the most innocent woman he knew.

  Until very recently, Gaby had never allowed others to touch her: emotionally, mentally, physically.

  Definitely not in sexual exploration.

  But now, with him, her life was changing. Luther remembered when he first saw her, how something about her had struck him hard, laid him low, and drawn him to her irrevocably. After that meeting, he would never be the same.

  And he planned to see to it that she wasn’t either.

  Now he only had to ease Gaby into that reality.

  With her pinned beneath him asking for sex, he was off to a good start.

  It was so novel to see Gaby like this, sexually aroused, disgruntled with physical need. Her normal demeanor was balls-to-the-wall brazen, gutsy beyond common sense, so daring and determined that she risked her life without reserve.

  He liked both aspects.

  He liked her. Too much.

  Luther stared into her eyes as he released her wrists, reached down between their bodies, and positioned himself. Thanks to her recent release, the head of his cock entered slick, moist heat.

  His muscles bunched and his heart expanded painfully in his chest.

  Her breath caught, then released on a low, shuddering moan.

  And a knock sounded on the door.

  Chapter 3

  No fucking way. Gaby glared at Luther and ordered, “Ignore it.”

  Eyes squeezed shut as if in pain, Luther cursed low and long.

  Frantic need encompassed Gaby unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Even her other sexual experiences with Luther didn’t compare. Those times when he’d touched her, he was fully clothed, somehow apart from her.

  But now . . . now she felt his body in places she’d never before had reason to consider.

  He could not leave her like this.

  Her voice sounding like a growl, she said, “Don’t even think it, Luther. Whoever it is will go away.”

  The knock sounded harder, and Luther’s partner, Ann Kennedy, shouted, “Open up, Luther.”

  Gaby tipped her head back and yelled toward the door, “Go away, Ann. We’re busy.”

  Luther stared at her in appalled silence. What? Did he expect her to just give him up at such a crucial moment?

  Ann knocked harder.

  “No.” Seeing the inevitable in Luther’s eyes, Gaby shook her head. “No.”

  “I’m sorry, Gaby.” His big hand smoothed along the side of her face, cupped her skull. He put his forehead to hers. “Though I’d conveniently forgotten, I’m still on duty.”

  God knew she understood duty, but that didn’t mean she was appeased. It’d be a long time before she forgave him.

  “This fucking sucks, Luther!” She shoved him aside and left the couch.

  Luther grabbed her hand, and with his gaze flickering over her body, he swallowed hard. “You can’t open the door like that.”

  A sneer formed. “I’m not opening the door at all, but it looks like you are.” Pissed off and frustrated beyond all measure, she marched naked to the stairs. She glanced back once to see Luther standing there, wrapped in the throw, watching her retreat with undivided attention to her backside. “Perv.”

  “Only you would think so, Gaby.”

  His gaze followed her up the steps; she felt the burn of his scrutiny, the near tactile pressure of his interest. Sexual need sucked.

  She’d just reached the top of the stairway when she heard the front door open.

  Ann, in her characteristic way of acceptance, said, “I gather you forgot we have a dead body to contend with.”

  “Dead? So he didn’t make it?”

  “Died on the way to the hospital. I got a call, and they said so far, other than an obvious loss of blood, they’re not sure what killed him.”

  Hiding her nudity, Gaby peeked around the wall to yell down, “He was drained. Try checking between his toes, in the crease of his groin . . . hell, maybe behind his ear. Somewhere on his body, you’ll find a pinprick big enough for an IV.”

  Ann appeared at the bottom of the steps. She looked at Gaby’s disheveled hair, and then her bare shoulder. One slim brow lifted.

  For the very first time in her life, Gaby felt slight embarrassment over her physical appearance. “What?” she asked Ann. “You have something to
say, just say it.”

  Ann’s mouth tilted in a smile. “I’m sorry that I interrupted.”

  For some reason, that infuriated Gaby even more—especially when she saw Ann’s gentle amusement. The woman was a freakin’ saint.

  Ann was not only beautiful on the outside, with golden blonde hair, soft dark eyes, and a slender, womanly build, but she also possessed a gigantic heart and a temperament that reserved judgment against others—even against a freak like Gaby.

  At times like this, Ann’s graciousness grated on Gaby’s nerves. “Fuck off.”

  Gaby heard Ann laugh and Luther apologize seconds before she slammed the door to the spare room that she’d commandeered. Putting both hands in her hair, she stalked to a window to look out.

  Rain continued to fall, but in a peaceful, cleansing way now, rather than with the turbulent rage that had so badly disarmed her.

  She hated weakness of any kind—in herself. In others, she expected it.

  She had superior skills, both mental and physical, that made most seem frail in comparison.

  But not Luther.

  Oh God. Just thinking his name set her body to throbbing with a pulse beat of hot need. Her breasts ached. Down deep inside herself, her belly burned around a churning demand for something. It wasn’t like the vague necessity for food she sometimes felt, or the need to rest. And it didn’t resemble the driving urge to protect others.

  This was different, and twice as gripping.

  She needed to do something to distract herself because she didn’t know how to assuage the need on her own. In this, Luther had her at his mercy.

  Untenable.

  Somehow, someway, she’d have to overcome this awful requirement of him.

  Going to the trunk at the end of the unused bed, she opened the combination lock and removed her current work in progress. Writing graphic novels served as the only outlet for her frustrations. She needed to write and draw now more than ever.

  Because the room didn’t have a desk, she arranged everything on the floor and then sat cross-legged and went to work. Downstairs she could hear Luther and Ann speaking, and then a few minutes later, she recognized Luther’s familiar tread on the stairs. He didn’t come to her room, but instead went to the room she would sleep in with him.