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Tempting Evil (Riley Jenson Guardian #3)(8)

By: Keri Arthur

“They were only dreams, Quinn. It would have been nice to have something with a little more substance.”
“Which is what we now have.”
His hand splayed across the flat of my stomach. Heat pooled under his fingertips, flared across my flesh like a flash fire. Lord, his touch was even more intense than I’d remembered.
His hands slid up to my breasts, pushing them together as he began to tease and pinch my engorged nipples. I squirmed against him, wariness momentarily forgotten as every inch of me vibrated with the hunger now flowing through my veins. 
As if sensing the fall of reluctance, he began to kiss me, caress me, tease me, until tiny beads of perspiration covered my skin. Until every inch of me was trembling, and I was hovering on the edge of a climax, aching for the release he was keeping from me.
When his caress finally moved down, I groaned in relief. His fingers played around my thighs, close but not close enough to where I actually wanted them. Needed them. After a few more torturous moments, he hooked his thumbs under my panties and pushed them down my legs. I stepped free, then toed them to one side. He pushed up my skirt as I widened my stance, then his fingers were slipping through my slickness from behind, caressing and teasing until I was moaning from equal measures of pleasure and frustration. His soft chuckle whispered heat across the back of my neck, then his fingers were in me even as he pressed his thumb against my clit. As he began to stroke, inside and out, I shuddered, writhed, until it felt as if I was going to tear apart from the sheer force of pleasure.
And then he was in me, claiming me for real and in the most basic way possible. I groaned again as he gripped my hips, his fingers bruising as he held me still for too many seconds.
But oh, it was so glorious, just standing there, my body throbbing with need, his body deep inside mine, heavy and hot with the same sort of need. I loved the way he seemed to complete me. It had nothing to do with his size or his shape or anything physical, because I’d certainly been with men who outstripped him in all those areas. This was far more—was almost as if when our flesh was joined, our spirits combined and danced as intimately as our bodies.
He began to move, not gently, but fiercely, urgently, and I was right there with him, wanting everything he could give me. The deep-down ache blossomed, spreading like wildfire across my skin, becoming a kaleidoscope of sensations that washed through every corner of my mind. I gasped, grabbing the bench for support as his movement grew faster, more urgent. Then everything broke, and I was unraveling, groaning with the intensity of the orgasm. He came with me, but it wasn’t just his juices that flowed into me. So, too, did his mind.
And he was raiding my thoughts and my memories as fast as any thief fearing discovery.
Anger unlike anything I’d felt before surged through me, and without even thinking about it, I lowered my shields and let him have it with every ounce of psychic strength I had.
He made a gargled sound, then the force of my psychic punch wrenched his body from mine and he was flying through the door, out into the living room, where he landed with a thump on his back.
I re-shielded fast. Pain hit, but it might as well have been a leaf tossed on the wind, my anger was so strong. I grabbed my knickers and marched into the other room.
“You bastard!” I flung the panties at him, though why I had no real idea. It wasn’t like it was a knife or a stake or anything that useful.
Which is probably just as well, because right then, I would have used either one of them.
He rubbed a hand across his eyes, then slowly raised himself up on his elbows. “How the hell did you do that?”
“What the fuck does it matter, given what you just did?”
“If you’d tell me the truth for a change, I wouldn’t have to resort to such measures!”
His voice was as loud and as angry as mine, but there was a tremor in his tones that suggested I had hurt him. Part of me was fiercely glad. Part of me hated it.
“I have a right to privacy. In my life, and in my thoughts.”
“This is different.”
“Why? Because you’re a twelve-hundred-year-old vampire who no longer has to obey the rules?”
“And yet, for all my age, and for all my psychic skills and knowledge, you just ripped through my shields as if they were paper. And then you sent me flying. You couldn’t have done that a few months ago.”A cold hard knot formed deep in the pit of my stomach. He was right. God help me, he was right. Even though Jack had been training me in the fine art of breaking through psychic shields over the last few months, I’d never managed to break through all his shields, no matter how hard I’d tried. And Quinn was far more powerful than Jack.
I licked my lips, and pushed the thoughts away. Now was not the time to think about the implications of his statement, or what it might mean to the future I so desperately wanted.
“Don’t try changing the fucking subject.”
He sighed, climbed a little unsteadily to his feet, and re-dressed himself. “I admitted to you months ago that I was, in part, using you. You were my quickest way of finding information about my missing friend—information that the Directorate, and my friendship with Director Hunter, wasn’t providing. That hasn’t changed—though the reason certainly has.”
“So that’s why you’re back now?”
“Partially. Something changed yesterday afternoon. Something is happening. I can feel it.”
He could feel it? How? We hadn’t shared dreams in any way yesterday, so he couldn’t have leeched information that way. And, usually, he could only catch my thoughts if he was physically near.
But maybe he had been. Maybe he’d been here in Melbourne all along, and just hadn’t contacted me.
Bastard.
“So the real reason you came to my apartment last night was for a little extra information gathering? I bet it sucked having your grand plans foiled by Kellen’s presence.”
“It wasn’t the only reason I was here last night. I did want to see you.”
Yeah. Believing that big time. “How in the hell could you supposedly feel anything when we’re supposedly only sharing erotic dreams and nothing more?”
He didn’t answer. No surprise there. The bastard never answered questions that really mattered.
He walked toward me and held out my panties. I snatched them from his hand and threw them to the floor. And some childish part of me wanted to stomp all over them—or maybe it’s just that I wanted to stomp all over Quinn, and with no hope of achieving that, they were the next best option.
“Was I ever anything more than just a convenient source of information?” I asked bitterly.
He reached out, his fingers briefly caressing my cheek with heat until I jerked away from his touch. His hand dropped back to his side, but the determination in his eyes said he was far from defeated.
“There has always been something more between us.”
“Yeah, great sex.”
“More than that. I care for you, Riley. Deeply.”
I snorted softly. “You keep saying that, and yet you couldn’t even be bothered coming to see me for the last two months. The only reason you’re here now is the fact that you sensed something was happening with the case.” 
He studied me, arms crossed, face impassive. But there was nothing impassive in his eyes. Nothing impassive in the explosive swirl of emotion scorching my skin with heat.
“If it was your brother they’d snatched and killed, would you not do everything in your power to exact revenge? Even if that meant betraying someone you cared for greatly?”
“That’s different—”
“No, it’s fucking not! Henri was my brother in all but blood. I will not let these fools get away with his murder. I will have my revenge, no matter what I have to do!” He paused, then added softly, “Or who I have to hurt.”
I held up my hands, not pushing him away but certainly ready to. “Don’t touch me.”
“This will not end here,” he said flatly. “I won’t let it.”
“Right now, you have no goddamn choice. I want you to leave and I don’t want you to come back and I don’t want to see you again.”
He snorted. “You’ll see me, not only in your dreams, but on the mission. It starts today and I will be involved in it.”
So he’d gotten that much from me. Bastard.
“Go,” I said fiercely, “before you make me do something I might not regret.”
He studied me for a moment, then spun on his heel and walked to the door. But he stopped with his hand on the knob, and looked over his shoulder at me. “I’ll see you at the Directorate. And you had better tell Jack about that increase in power, or I will.”
With that he left. The door slammed after him, the noise reverberating through the sudden silence. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples for a moment, then turned and headed for the shower. And though I could wash the smell of him from my skin, there was no washing away the feel of him in my mind. No getting away from the huge sense of loss and betrayal.
And I hated that, hated that he’d reduced what was between us to that. Because he was right—there was something more, something that had the potential to be magical. Not soul-deep magical, perhaps, but still so very good. His actions might not have destroyed that, but I really didn’t know if I would ever be able to get past them.
I lifted my face to the cooling water, letting it wash away the sting from my eyes. After a while, I got out and re-dressed, then headed into the kitchen to make myself another drink.