Dark Lover

She stood. "I don't know."

"Can we have dinner?" He leaped up. "Lunch? What are you doing tomorrow?"

She had to laugh. "I don't know."

She'd never been pursued before. It was nice.

"Ah, hell," he muttered. "I'm blowing it with this overea-ger sh-stuff, aren't I?" He put his hands on his hips and stared at the carpet as if disgusted with himself.

She stepped forward. His head snapped up.

"I would touch you now," she said softly. "Before I go."

His eyes flared.

"May I? Butch?"

"Anywhere," he breathed.

She lifted her hand, thinking she would just put it on his shoulder. But his lips fascinated her. She'd watched them move while he enunciated his words and wondered what they felt like.

"Your mouth," she said. "It's rather…"

"What?" His voice was hoarse.

"Lovely."

She put her fingertip on his lower lip. His gasp drew air over her skin, and when he exhaled on a shudder, it came back warm and moist.

"You're soft," she said, brushing her forefinger back and forth.

He closed his eyes.

His body was throwing off the most intoxicating scent. She'd caught the heady fragrance the moment he'd first seen her. Now, it saturated the air.

Curious, she slipped her finger into his mouth. His eyes flipped open.

She felt his front teeth, finding the absence of fangs odd. When she went in farther, it was slick, wet, warm.

Slowly, his lips closed around her finger. And then his tongue ran around the tip in a circle.

A surge went through her body. "Oh…"

Her breasts tingled at the tips, and something was happening between her legs. She felt achy. Hungry.

"I want…" She didn't know what to say next.

He covered her hand with his and pulled his head back, sucking the length of her finger until it popped out of his mouth. With his eyes boring into hers, he turned her palm over, licked the center of it with his tongue, and pressed his lips to her skin.

She leaned into him.

"What do you want?" he asked in a low voice. "Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want."

"I… don't know. I've never felt this before."

Her answer seemed to crack the spell. His face grew dark, and he dropped her hand. A curse, soft and vile, floated out of him as he put some space between them.

Marissa's eyes burned at his rejection. "Have I displeased you?"

God knew, it was something she seemed to excel at when it came to males.

"Displeased? No, you're doing just fine. You're a real pro." He pushed a hand through his hair. He seemed to be struggling with himself, as if he were trying to get back to normal from some faraway place. "It's just that the innocent act is freaking me out a little."

"Act?"

"You know, the doe-eyed-virgin routine."

She stepped forward while trying to frame a response, but he held out his hands. "That's close enough right now."

"Why?"

"Please, baby. Give it a rest."

Her face fell. "You make no sense."

"Oh, really," he said. "Look, you can turn me on just standing there. You don't have to pretend you're something you're not. And I… ah, I don't have a problem with what you do. I'm not going to arrest you for it, either."

"Why would you arrest me?"

As he rolled his eyes, she had no clue what he was talking about.

"I will go now," she said abruptly. His aggravation was growing with each passing moment.

"Wait." He reached out and took her arm. The instant he made contact, he dropped his hand. "I still want to see you."

She frowned, eyeing the hand he'd touched her with. He was rubbing the thing like he wanted to get rid of a sensation.

"Why?" she asked. "You obviously don't like the feel of me right now."

"Uh-huh. Yeah, sure." He regarded her cynically. "Look, how much is it going to cost me to get you to play normal?"

She glared back at him. Before she'd had it out with Wrath, she might have just skulked off. But no more.

"I don't understand you," she said.

"Whatever, baby. Tell me, are some guys so hard up to pop cherries that they actually buy this act?"

Marissa didn't understand all the vernacular he used, but the gist of what he was thinking finally got through to her. Appalled, she threw her spine into a straight line.

"I beg your pardon!"

He stared at her, jaw set hard. Then he exhaled.

"Ah, hell. He rubbed his face with his hand. "Look, forget it, okay? Let's just forget we ever met-"

"I have never been taken. My hellren did not favor my company. So I have not once been kissed or touched or even held by a male who felt passion for me. But I am not… I am not unworthy." Her voice quavered at the end. "I've just never been wanted before."

His eyes went wide, like she'd slapped him or something.

She looked away. "And I've never touched a male," she whispered. "I just don't know what to do."

The human let out a long breath, as if all the oxygen in his body were being expelled.

"Holy Mary, mother of God," he murmured. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I'm… I'm a total asshole, and I totally misjudged you."

His horror at what he'd said to her was so palpable, she smiled a little. "You truly mean that."