Touch Me (4 page)

His eyes flared.

Go. Now.
“I have to find my friend. ‘Bye.” As she made her escape, a breeze caressed like eiderdown. All around her, lights flashed. Bodies grinded and whirled. Bottles clinked, people laughed and hugged. Someone lit a clove cigarette nearby.

“
Dressing room hallway is clear—”

“
VIP room is clear—”

“
Estimating thirty minutes to curtain—”

Voices and music tumbled together in a wild kaleidoscope of sound. She tried to separate individual vocal skeins, but Isaak’s
smooth “Lie To Me” croon glossed over everything—

An eerie howl split the air,
and her skeleton vibrated like a tuning fork. Her knees buckled, and she careened into the carpeted wall. She could feel each fiber and filament as it brushed against her cheek and shoulder.

A gentle hand grasped her upper arm, steadying her.

She looked up and saw an androgynous creature with coal black hair, snow-white skin, kohl-rimmed eyes, and silver lips. Wearing combat boots, a kilt over black leggings, and a black coat buttoned to the neck, the otherworldly being looked utterly comfortable despite the club’s rainforest heat.

Are you okay?

Male or female? Vampire, werewolf, faerie, siren? Its lips hadn’t moved, but she heard the voice as clearly as if it had come through a pair of noise-reduction headphones. Three simple words, drenched with empathy. Looking into wise, knowing gray eyes, she saw understanding. Communion.

An invitation to touch.

Slowly raising her hand, she stroked the white cheek with her fingertips. Such soft, soft skin. Unmistakably a woman.

A woman who somehow…understood.

Holding her gaze, the woman tipped her head to the side, nuzzling her cheek into her palm. Bailey’s breath caught as the woman lifted her own hand and returned the touch, skimming black-nailed fingertips over her jaw, cheekbone, and temple. Soft as a butterfly, achingly sweet, the touch reduced the vibration, bringing a stunning sense of relief.

When was the last time
anyone had really touched her?

“
Bailey, what’s your twenty?”

She jolted at
Lukas’s tense voice. She wasn’t anywhere close to where she was supposed to be—at the foot of the stage. “Thank you,” she murmured to the woman, slowly dropping her hand. The words seemed completely inadequate. “I have to go.” 

With a gentle smile, the woman dropped her hand.
I’m glad you feel better.

Nope,
she wasn’t hallucinating. The woman’s lips hadn’t moved. How the hell—

“Bailey?” Lukas repeated impatiently. “Sasha’s looking for you.”

The woman melted into the crowd.

“Damn it.” She fumbled with the receiver in her pocket, turning outgoing audio on. “I’m on the floor, Lukas. On my way to the stage now.”

“
Once you get there, stay put.”

“
Will do,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms as she walked. Her nerve endings still shimmied and danced, but the maddening vibrations were almost gone. The woman’s touch had definitely soothed her, steadied her out.

Being touched helped.
Now, wasn’t
that
an interesting data point. Paradoxical, but interesting.

Flicking audio off, she
waded into the writhing mass.

CHAPTER THREE

“Bailey?”

Whirling around at the
sound of Sasha’s voice, she lost her balance, face-planting into the muscled chest of the world-class flirt she’d found standing at the lip of the stage.

“
Whoa.” He steadied her with a laugh, clamping her to his long, hard body. “You okay?”

“
Yeah.” Damn it, Sasha wasn’t here; her voice was in her head—in the earpiece—swirling around with all the others. “I’m fine.” She rubbed her forehead and cheeks against his sheer excuse for a shirt, smelling the slightest hint of rosemary. Made sense, because he was a chef.

A vampire chef. Who knew
?

A very
hot
vampire chef. Tall, verging on thin, his well-worn leather pants clung like a second skin, and his dark hair, already damp at the temples, fell to wide shoulders. Somehow the gleam of sweat rendered him more attractive rather than less. He’d kept his fangs very politely sheathed during their conversation, even when she’d told him he’d probably have to move before the show started due to security considerations.

The
house lights dimmed slightly, and the house DJ turned up the volume. Tendrils of sound bloomed and twined. His body heat leached into her through the leather.

She swallowed down a moan.
She knew he’d gone through the weapons detector like everyone else, but with a body like his, who needed one—

“
Bailey?”

Not in her head this
time. Not leaving the vamp’s arms, she looked back over her shoulder. Tonight, Sasha wore her short black and fuchsia hair spiked to the heavens, and had paired tight black pants with a black leather bikini top adorned with tiny studs and chains. “Sasha! Hi, Sasha!” When she turned back toward the vamp, her nose grazed…was that a nipple ring? Holy Mother. “This is my friend Sasha.” Craning her neck, she looked up, way up, into his bewitching eyes. “This is...” She blinked. Blanked. “What's your name again?”

“
Chadden.”

Thankfully he sounded amused rather than insulted. Her father would
be horrified at her rudeness, disappointed in her once again, but The Reverend wasn’t here and would never be here, in this place where beings whose existence he couldn’t acknowledge caressed in the shadows, danced with glee, and touched without guilt or talk of sin.

Sasha eyed her closely.
“Sorry, Chad. She’s buzzed.”

“
No problem, Sasha.” His arms, looped around her waist, loosened slightly. “Who’s my adorable new pal here?” He grinned down at her, exposing the tips of his fangs. “You'd fit right in my pocket, wouldn't you, tidbit?”

“
No, she wouldn't,” Sasha muttered. “Your pants are too tight.”

Bailey
nudged her hips against the vamp’s.
Nope, just right.

Sasha
covered one of her own ears with her hand. “Lukas? Jack? Problem.”

“
Go.”

Lukas still sounded crabby.

“Bailey's intoxicated, didn't get her meds.”

And she f
elt so light and free, the useless guilt floating up, up and away. “Hi, Lukas!” she sang out.

“
Damn it.”

“
Jack? Is that Jack?” She leaned toward Sasha. “Do you know what the women at work call Lukas and Jack? ‘Beef’ and ‘Cake.’ Beef because Lukas is so big, and cake because Jack is so pretty. Beefcake. Get it? Get it?”

Sasha dodged her
nudging elbow. “Yup, I get it.”

She leaned closer to Sasha, lowering her voice.
“Don't tell them, but a lot of women at work stare at their butts as they walk down the hall.”

“
Jesus,” Lukas muttered.

Sasha grinned.
“Okay, Bailey,” she said loudly. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“
And Jack helped me get this job. Isn't he the nicest?”

“
Sasha?” Lukas barked.

“
Sorry, guys.” Sasha swiped at her head, removing one of the two earpieces she wore. “I've got a missing drummer, and two substitutes, who, while very talented, haven't rehearsed dick. The first floor men's room is already out of condoms. We just had a small grease fire in the kitchen. Three cars are being towed from Reserved Parking at this very minute. Scarlett's about to barf up all that water she just drank, and I don't know when the curtain is going up.” Glancing at Chadden, she mouthed a curse. “Bailey’s out of commission until we get her some meds, and I’m fresh out.”

“
Hey, Sasha.”

God, that
voice
. It rumbled into her body, setting off tiny depth charges. What was Rafe doing on the Sebastiani Security communications band?

“
Meet me back at the soundboard,” he said. “I'll take Bailey up to your office, get her some meds, babysit her until they hit. She'll be back on the floor in a half hour, tops.”

A half hour alone with Rafe Sebastiani
? Oh my God.

There was a long pause.
“Do it,” Lukas finally said.

Do
what
? Lukas’s words were innocent enough, but her mind quickly filled in the blanks with images so hot they scorched.

After promising Chadden she’d stop by his restaurant sometime, she and Sasha said their goodbyes
, wading through the crowd toward the soundboard. Music throbbed, lights pulsed, and time slipped away. Wrapping her arms around Sasha, she nuzzled her cheek against the other woman’s soft leather bikini top. Everywhere Bailey looked, people hugged, danced, laughed, and touched, in duos, trios or groups, regardless of gender or species. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations—the Vulcan credo in action—and she and Jack had been chosen to bring humanity into the mix.

She’d been
chosen
.

“There he is.” Sasha slowed to a stop. “Hey, Ugly.”

She rolled her eyes
. Even his sister had to realize that Rafe Sebastiani was a gorgeous specimen of manhood. She’d lost count of how many orgasms she'd had with his face in her mind, his imaginary hands on her body, his phantom tongue—

“Hello.” Rafe bent down to kiss Sasha’s cheek, and after a slight hesitation, kissed hers, too.

Her eyelids drifted to half-mast
. His body smelled spicy and exotic, like Bedouins striding over desert dunes.

“
So, what kind of trouble are you two getting into tonight?”

His
low voice dragged over her skin like suede. She couldn’t stop her reflexive shiver.

As he and Sasha talked,
she unabashedly stared. Rafe wasn’t built on Lukas-sized lines, but he wasn't a small man by any means. Tall, lean, and perfectly proportioned, one didn’t realize his true size until you stood right next to him. Skimming up his black-clad, narrow-hipped frame, she stared at his hair, at the outrageous, wheat-colored waves tumbling to his broad shoulders. The style should have looked feminine, absurd, but it most emphatically did not. If anything, the soft hair emphasized his sturdy jaw, strong cheekbones, and slashing eyebrows.

Hell, h
e made her hormones do the tango even without an assist from the second-hand pheromones flooding the room. He was really too attractive for his own good—or for hers. The sex demon and the preacher's kid? Yeah, right. It would make an excellent pitch for a wacky TV comedy, but in real life? Yeah, right—

“
Bailey?”

She jumped at the
unexpected sound of his voice.

“
Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

She slapped her hands to her burning cheeks
, remembering what Jack had revealed about their abilities. He could probably smell her feeble, pitiful yearning. “Sasha, can you—”

“
She’s gone.”

S
he glanced to the place where Sasha had just been standing. “Damn it.” Sasha had disappeared, leaving her alone with her delicious sex demon brother.

Bending down, he brought
his mouth closer to her ear. When his hair swished over her bare arm, she almost swooned. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you,” he said. “What did you say?”

Even his breath smelled fabulous—not overly minty, just fresh and clean
. “Nothing.” She swatted at her earpiece. The voices swarmed in her head like pesky mosquitoes. “Too many—”

“
Where’s your receiver?”

“
Front pocket.”

“
Lukas?” Rafe spoke into his own headset. “Bailey and I are going offline for a bit.” After turning off his own receiver, his long, clever fingers dipped into her front pocket, found her receiver, and flicked it off.

Flicked
, too close to her—

T
he orgasm slammed into her like a rogue wave, heaving her up, holding her suspended, and tossing her willy-nilly over the edge. As she tumbled, strong arms reached for her, plucked her from the whitewater froth, holding her steady while time eddied and swirled.

A
nearby howl brought her back to the here and now. Blinking owlishly, she locked her wobbly knees and tried to focus. All she could see was a sea of black—Rafe’s tailored shirt.
Oh my God.
Utterly mortified, she dropped her forehead to the soft cotton, trying to hide her face. 

“
Bailey?”

His
soft murmur skittered straight to her core. “I’m…so sorry.” He was a sex demon; there was no way he hadn’t noticed that his painfully platonic touch had triggered the most rocking orgasm she’d had in years. God, she must reek of desperation. Sweeping up the scattered shards of her courage, she gave a wry, self-deprecating chuckle. “Well,
that
was certainly embarrassing—”

“
Bailey.”

His
low, rumbly voice made her stomach leap. Lifting her head from his chest, she saw his clenched jaw, carved cheekbones, and the elegant flare of his nostrils as he inhaled. His tawny, gold-flecked eyes glittered as his long fingers flexed against the curve of her hips.

Subtle as the movement was,
she followed its momentum, brushing their hips together. Her breath snagged in her throat. 

He was
rampantly, outrageously erect.

His
fingers spasmed, biting into her ass, pulling her closer. His alluring scent darkened, deepened, drew her in. She couldn’t quite find the muscular will to move.

A
lluring…root word ‘lure.’
She’d discovered at least one answer to the question she’d asked herself earlier in the evening. It made sense that the incubus with the most bewitching scent would have more opportunities to breed, to mate, to spread his genetic material. How clever that the prey would nearly die of pleasure in the process.

He stepped away, his hands
clenching into fists. “Sasha said the meds are in the medicine cabinet in her office bathroom. Let’s go.”

S
he could still feel the imprint of his hot, rigid flesh against her stomach.

She wanted to feel it—him—again
.

“
Come on.” A muscle ticked in his cheek. Taking her hand, he started blazing a trail across the dance floor. The band hadn’t taken the stage yet, but the floor was packed. “We'll get you fixed up in a minute.”

Don’t wanna be fixed up.
Wrapping her arms around his body, she burrowed closer, to his height, to his heat, to the protection of his long, lean form as he cut through the crowd. His elegant designer duds disguised a surprising amount of muscle, muscle she wanted to stroke, clutch, test with her teeth. She wanted to shove him up against a wall, slam their mouths together. Taste him, touch him, take him. While she’d certainly had lovers—men she’d shared her body with for a few enjoyable hours, but nothing more—with Rafe, she’d be completely out of her league. She had nowhere near enough experience to handle him, much less please him. 

But
wouldn’t it be fun to try? If the rumors were true, he had a reputation for hedonism even among his kind, and—she glanced at the erection ruining the drape of his pants—that big boy wasn’t about to go away on its own. Maybe he’d be up for a no-strings encounter.

With her
.

Before she knew it, they were
clear of the dance floor. Rafe loosened his arm slightly, but didn’t let her go. As they walked past the busy back bar, Flynn, the vampire bartender, smiled at them but didn’t pause as he poured someone a perfect Guinness. Suddenly they were standing in front of the private elevator the Sebastiani family used to reach the building’s business and residential floors. There were no call buttons, but Rafe produced a key card and waved it in front of the matte black pad mounted beside the door. When the doors swished open, he ushered her inside with a light touch to the small of her back.