Raspberry-red lips.
Lips delicately sipping on the edge of a glass. Lips he tasted this morning, still tasted in the hum of their memory on his own.
Her lips.
Tate stood across from Jaelyn, leaning on the tall table, a drink teetering in his fingers while focusing her lips, and how the lights of the night club silhouetted her mass of curls in a luminescent halo.
“Tate?”
He blinked a few times as his eyes broke from her mouth and focused on her fully. “Sorry, what?” With how she squinted at him, it seemed he missed something she said. “Did you say something? Can you repeat that? The music is a little loud.” That was a lie. He had excellent hearing despite the environment. But he didn’t want to face the wrath behind those narrowed eyes.
Nor did he want her to realize… he was caught up in a raspberry-red fantasy.
“I said it looks like Link is doing well with our contact,” Tate was watching her lips again as she spoke, had to rip his eyes away from them again to look at her eyes and nod.
“With the faerie we’ve come to talk to?”
Her scowl let him know he missed something else she had told him. Oops. He really needed to get his head in the game here. But that would mean holding his breath to banish her coconut scent, that would mean gouging out his eyes to keep from looking at her at all.
It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t keep the drool from his chin, especially when she had changed her clothes for the club. He definitely was a fan of the leggings and tight shirt she was wearing earlier, but what she had on now... s**t. It was hot. The flowing red blouse that settled right above her navel, showing off the silver flare of a navel piercing. The tight, black hip-hugging pants laced with a silver-chain belt, drawing his attention to her hips, ass, and everything delicious in-between.
Fuck, he wanted a piece of that.
Jaelyn cleared her throat, breaking into his fantasy once more. s**t. Caught again. Lowering her voice, she leaned across the small table, probably so she could speak more closely to him so he would hear her. But f**k, getting closer to him wasn’t going to help. The blaring scent of coconut sent a lusting pulse through his body and straight to his d**k. “Link is talking to the witch, remember?” She tilted her head to the high table not too far from theirs. “His friend, Gwyneth, from the Laurent Coven. She knows the faeries that frequent the club and can help us find one here.”
“Right, right,” Tate nodded, downing the last of his drink. Looking as inconspicuous as he could, he nonchalantly peeked over to where her brother was standing next to a buxom brunette wearing a hot as hell red dress. “Are all witches so drop dead gorgeous?” he whispered more to himself. But Jaelyn caught it, her eyebrow rising.
“Not all of them are lucky,” she rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “But a quick glamor spell can help make the unlucky ones look appealing.” She added, “People aren’t always what they seem, especially those who use magic.”
He flipped his eyes back to her, noticing the slight pelts of ice in her tone. “How about you?”
“What about me?”
“Is this all you?” Tate was going to simply sweep his eyes over her body, but he couldn’t help it when they flipped to slo-mo. It was like he couldn’t get enough of looking at her. “Or are you trying to bewitch me, too?”
Tate didn’t feel any deceptiveness, but she was a witch. Even if she was his mate, he couldn’t put blinders on to that fact, though his beast challenged any negative idea he check-marked in his mental pros and cons chart. Admittedly, there were so many damn more pros than cons. And this was making it extremely hard to arbitrate.
“Maybe?” Jaelyn shrugged one shoulder, a wicked grin destroying any attempt at innocence. A grin she hadn’t ever shared before; those dark red lips darkening his thoughts and electrifying his chest. Holy s**t. What is this girl doing to me!
Ignoring the bright caution lights flaring inside his brain, the huge billboard warning caveats that blared keep a distance and this isn’t a good idea were shoved aside when he said, “Let’s dance.”
She had been sipping on the glass again, his eyes transfixed on her mouth again, as she spit her drink a little, “D-dance? Wait, what?” Jaelyn grabbed the small white napkin on the table and dabbed at her chin.
“You heard me,” Tate purred in his low predatory tone.
“No. No.” Jaelyn breathed, shaking her head, looking at him as if caught in headlights. “We-we’re here just to get information. Not to- to--” she pointed out to the dance floor, pantomiming the rest of her sentence.
“Mixing business with pleasure has never been a problem with me.” Tate moved around the table; Jaelyn slowly circled it away from him. This was new. Any woman he flirted with usually wouldn’t try and get away. Just his vampire-lure alone pulled them in for his picking. Her trying to evade him only tempted his beast more. She was becoming prey. The hunt. Adrenaline ticked upward as his eyes locked with hers. “Link is busy. Let’s have some fun while we’re waiting.”
“Pleasure?” The word gulped down her throat. Something changed in her expression; that sadness she had earlier was sliding back into place. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He decided it was his conquest to rub that hurt from those beautiful eyes. Eyes that needed to keep that sparkle of wit and glint of deviousness.
“Stop thinking then,” he grabbed her hand quickly, holding it tight when she tried to pull away, yanking her up against him. The mate-bond sparks flushed through his hand and jolted every nerve of his body, making him catch his breath, “Shut-up and dance with me.” It wasn’t a harsh, angry request. It was a sultry, whispered promise.
Without waiting for another rejection, he pulled her out into the thick of the crowd. The music wasn’t too fast nor too slow, but the beat was all encompassing. Tate stepped in close to her, very close, but not enough to touch. Though the current that hovered within the inches between their bodies mingled in an electrical charge, feeling as if they were touching.
Slowly, Tate moved his hand to the small of her back, helping her move to the rhythm, to his rhythm, falling into the trance of the beat. His eyes remained on her face, begging her eyes to look into his, but she kept looking off to the side or at his shoulder. But f**k, her body obeyed him; hips gyrating to the pulse of the music, to the cadence of the heat.
Why is she being shy? She felt this too, right?
I’ll help her feel it.
Pressing on her back, he guided her into his body. He felt her reservation, felt her body tense. But he didn’t want her to panic, to pull away yet. He wasn’t done; they weren’t done yet. As he continued his slow grind against her abdomen, Tate leaned his head in next to hers, and at first it was just his cheek pressed against hers. But the pull of her scent overpowered him; he, the willing slave, pandering to his obsession. His nose slid down her neck and found the sweet spot, drinking in her smell with a slow inhale, with a feathering of lips. The simple touch sent a delicious wave throughout his body and he had to pause a moment for his body to suck it all in before he could even more, his head swimming.
And Tate spiraled further with her little gasp, her gentle moan, when her head dropped back and hair spilled over her shoulder, giving him more access to her throat. He took the opportunity given. Tate’s lips pressed harder, tasting more. Within seconds, completely drunk with her essence.
I know you might not even feel this since you aren’t a wolf. But to me, when I touch you... my fingers feel like they are on fire.
Completely lost within heady arousal, his mouth began trailing upward, over her chin, until finding her lips. Again, she tensed, but again he persisted, grabbing the back of her neck and holding her against him, pressing his mouth, teasing hers with his tongue to open for him, to let him in, so he could devour her mouth. When she wouldn’t, he ground his lower body harder into her, showing her what she was doing to him, hoping to drive her as insane as he felt. When her lips parted as her breath hitched, he dove in for the kill, his tongue anxious to find hers. When her lips pressed in against his, his lust grew, his kiss became more fevered. She’s kissing me back!
But like she did in the library, Jaelyn suddenly pushed him away. Tate’s chest heaved in rutted rhythm as he stood within the pulsing lights and bumping music, his claret eyes locked on her; Jaelyn’s breathing uneven as she stared, a hand gripping the side of her head for an anxious grab of hair. The vibrations humming between them like electricity.
Then she shook her head as she took a step back. Why not, Jaelyn? Why don’t you want me?
She took another step back, as if the invisible tether between them wouldn’t let her wade too far away.
No. Don’t go. Tate took a step forward, reaching for her, eyes begging for her to return. Heart thumping for her to come.
Jaelyn took another step back, but this time bumping hard into someone. When she spun around, Tate also refocused on who she had run into. It was Link with his friend next to him and some other guy.
“Hey Jae,” Link was going to say something else, but then noticed her looking distraught. With quick assessment, he flared over at Tate. His eyes fired up with a brother’s warning toward a male who clearly had eyes for his sister. A warning that told Tate to back off or he wouldn’t hesitate to beat his ass in. Tate didn’t feel threatened in the least, but the threat was noted. Link refocused, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the male beside his witch friend. “Gwen wants to introduce us to someone.”
Tate quickly refocused as well, eyeing the person Link was indicating. The faerie? With equal curiosity, the guy was checking Tate out too, like two people sizing each other up. Only, the faerie gently smirked, holding a bit of mirth in his eyes as he stared at Tate. He stood at equal height, though his hair was a soft brown and eyes were an icy blue. And like all faerie in the gorgeous as f**k department, he didn’t disappoint. Not that he was into guys. Tate was 100% into women, but he wasn’t blind to the fact of another man’s appeal.
Gwyneth began, “This is –”
“--Marcus,” The faerie interjected, his eyes sweeping over Tate again. Faerie were known to be infatuated with men and women equally, depending on whatever flavor they wanted that day. Tate felt like he was under the glass at a 31 Flavors with this guy Marcus licking his lips. “Pleasure to meet you.” Along with attaining a lot of female attention, getting checked out by interested men was also something he was used to, so seeing Marcus’ blatant interest didn’t bother him. It still was flattering to be admired. Marcus was a nice piece of ass too, but he wasn’t interested.
He nodded, “My name’s Tate,” but didn’t offer his hand, like he would a human when meeting someone new. Nonhumans didn’t greet each other that way; there were too many tricksters, too many magic users or those who could drain a person’s essence with just a touch. He learned quite a bit about faerie while living in Scotland with his father. It was interesting to actually meet one.
Jaelyn cleared her throat after an odd silence seeped between them as they stood there, despite the hammering music drowning the room. She directed to Marcus, “We have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind?”
Marcus responded to, though did not look at, her, “I’ll talk to him,” his eyes remained locked on Tate, “and no one else.”
Tate nodded, “Ok, fine. That works, too.” Whatever it took to get the intel on the Ghillie. He motioned back to their table. “Shall we go and have a drink?”
“No, not there,” Marcus’ smile foretold Tate of the faerie’s intentions. “We’ll talk out there.” His head tilted toward the dance floor.
He wants to dance? This is interesting.
Tate’s eyebrows rose. “Um... ok. Sure.” Although he went clubbing a lot and danced in groups with both men and women, he hadn’t ever danced one on one with a guy before. Tate had been slipped plenty of proposals by men in the past, and he wasn’t sure where Marcus was hoping this little liaison was going, but if the faerie wanted him to dance for the info he needed, then what the hell?
With a jerk of his chin, Marcus made a gesture for Tate to follow him. Before leaving, he eyed Jaelyn, giving her a quick nod to let her know that this was fine, that he’d be back in a sec. But he did a double-take when he noticed her expression before he left. Her brows were pinched, features darkened as she looked at Marcus and then him. Tate took a quick sniff and smiled at the tang of jealousy.
YES! She's in to me!
When she looked fully at him, Tate winked and gave her huge, cocky smile. Her cheeks reddened as she folded her arms over her chest before turning to follow Link and Gwen back to their table.
When Marcus nodded at the DJ, and the music shifted to something a bit sultry, Tate smirked. The faerie was going to play dirty. He didn’t shirk away when Marcus pulled him in, didn’t flinch when he showed Tate exactly how he wanted to dance and what pace he wanted to go. Their closeness was a little awkward for him, but he went with it. After a few minutes of letting Marcus have his fun with him, he decided it was time to mix the business part back into this meeting.
“I am sure Link filled you in about why we’re seeking someone of your kind out,” Tate started. “We need to know how to find Ghillie Dhu.”
“Let’s have fun first, Tate,” Marcus breathed, his heated eyes boring into his as he continued to dance with him, grinding against him like he had Jaelyn. Admittedly, this was sexy, and he moved along with the faerie with equal prowess. But Tate wondered if Jaelyn felt this way, of having someone she wasn’t interested in touching her in ways she didn’t want. She did break away. She did shake her head to stop him.
No, she kissed me back. She’s interested! Tate quickly justified. But is she?
“You wanted to talk out here,” Tate reminded him. “So we talk.”
Marcus pouted, “Fine,” he moved in and pressed his lips against Tate’s neck, but Tate pulled back.
“My line is drawn there, sorry,” Tate informed him. Marcus smirked, shrugging, but continuing in their lusty, gyrating sways. “Ghillie Dhu. Where can I find him?”
“He’s a hard faerie to find,” Marcus blew into Tate's ears as he did it. Again, sexy. Too bad Marcus wasn’t his type. “He moves a lot. Too paranoid to be found.”
“I understand why,” Tate nodded. Marcus moved to spoon Tate from behind, the faerie’s hard erection pressing into his ass. “Do you know where he is right now?”
“No,” Marcus grabbed Tate’s hips, holding him firmly against him, his breath becoming shallow as he rubbed himself harder against him.
“No?” Tate frowned, disappointment eating at his stomach. He asked, “Do you know anyone who would know? This is very important.”
“I do,” Marcus strained in his ear, “if she’s still on the earth realm. She may have gone back to Faerie before the gateways were sealed.” So the faerie are locked out of their home realms too. Made sense. “Even so, why would I tell you?”
Tate turned around, facing Marcus. At first the faerie was disappointed in their disconnect, but he swooped in quick, pulling Tate back against him.
Tate contemplated being allusive, but f**k it. There wasn’t any time to beat around the bush. “Because I need to get into the Underworld, reopen the portals, and beat the Dèanadair’s ass as I do it.”
Marcus’ dance slowed, but he didn’t break away from Tate. He looked at him, really looked at him, his eyes widening as something clicked inside his brain. “I knew there was something about you. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.”
“So you decided to put your hands all over it?” He smirked down at Marcus’ arms that were wrapped around him.
Marcus shrugged innocently. “I like exciting men, what can I say?” His eyes sparkled, “You’re the Qui dat Pacem, aren’t you?” Tate nodded. “Now I may never let you go,” he purred.
Tate smiled at Marcus’ comment, but then shook it off as the gravity of the situation dampened the banter. “Time is short,” Tate pressed. “The Dèanadair already has the moon blade. I need to get to him before it’s too late. So if you can help me find the Ghille, or that woman who knows where he is, I’d be grateful for your help.”
“I’ll tell you,” The glint in Marcus’ eye told Tate to hold his breath. The Faerie wanted something in return. “For a kiss.”
The proposition grated against Tate since Marcus already knew his hard lines, but again, f**k it. He needed the intel. If the faerie wanted a piece of him, he could give him that. But other than dirty dancing with him, he wasn’t going to move the goal posts any further than that.
Tate leaned in and kissed Marcus, hoping for more of a chaste kiss, but he knew better. The faerie went in for the kill, urging Tate to open his mouth with his eager tongue. Tate indulged him for a little bit, even tried to imagine this was Jaelyn he was frenching, but the sparks were not there, nor were Marcus’ lips as plump and delicious as his mate’s.
Pulling away, or the faerie would have pushed for full on tonsil hockey, Tate took a step back and cleared his throat. An eyebrow rose as he waited for Marcus to live up to his end of the deal.
Marcus smiled, “You’ll find the one who knows where Ghille is living up north in the faerie territory near Uig if she’s still in this realm.”
“How confident are you that she knows where Ghille is?” There was no time for goose chasing. If this lead didn’t pan out, they were f****d.
Marcus said confidently, “She’s his mate. Although her mother has made it impossible for them to be together, she always knows where he is. You’ll be looking for the faerie Princess Tyleigha.” Tate nodded, and turned to leave, but Marcus grabbed his arm. “Remember this, when you find Ghille, be careful. I wouldn’t want him messing up that beautiful body of yours,” he purred. “Ghille is highly territorial and can get a little nasty.”
Tate nodded, “Thanks Marcus.”
“Believe me, anytime.” His eyes raked up Tate’s body again, licking and biting his lower lip. “She’s one lucky girl,” he nodded out toward Jaelyn.
Tate shrugged before he left the faerie. He didn’t know what this thing with Jaelyn meant or was going yet. For now, she was tempting, but also confusing. Even as he neared the table, she was glaring daggers at him. Yeah, maybe he was wrong about Jaelyn.
She isn’t into me.
Why was that burning a hole in his gut?