Lifemate Connections: Eryn Read online

  "Only for a drink." The smile that tugged his lips was so damn sensuous her knees threatened to give way. "And only because I had nothing better to do."

  Oh, she could think of lots of things he could do ... She swallowed another hasty gulp of champagne, and felt the buzz start in her head. Only she wasn't sure whether it was the alcohol or the closeness of the man.

  Somehow, she managed to say, "And you've found something better now?"

  "I believe I might have. If she's willing."

  The wicked gleam in his eyes told her he wasn't just talking about dancing, and her pulse rate soared even higher.

  "She is." Very willing. She finished her drink in another large gulp that made her head spin even more.

  "Good."

  He plucked the glass from her hand, put it on a table in a nearby booth, then led her into the thick of the dance floor, right into the very heart of the crush, until it seemed everyone was pressing and touching everyone else, and the smell of desire was so powerful it was almost liquid. Heat swirled around her, through her, until it was impossible to tell whether the hunger flaming her skin was hers or his or the crowd's.

  But however fiercely she wanted him, she was not so far gone that she lost all sense of danger. She had to be careful. Had to. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, and suddenly the need to be careful was all but lost to the smell of raw virility and thick need. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the aroma, allowing it to wash through her pores and set her body alight even more.

  Until she realized something was missing.

  His scent.

  Which was ridiculous. Everyone had a scent, and it was as individual as a fingerprint. But underneath the sheer male smell, there was nothing. Maybe the heat surrounding her, drowning her, was affecting her senses.

  He began to move in time to the music, and she swayed with him. But it wasn't dancing, as such. With the crowd pressed so close, true dancing had become impossible. Besides, the way their bodies brushed was far too intimate, far too erotic, to come under the label of simple dancing.

  After a while, he raised a hand and brushed the strands of hair from her cheek. Her skin quivered, burned, where he touched. "Do you come here often?"

  I plan to come tonight, and often, she thought, but somehow kept the words inside. "First time. You?"

  "Been here for just over a week."

  And the murders had started just over two weeks ago. But did that put him in the clear? Especially when he might have been visiting other LifeMate bars? Damn it, had anyone bothered checking that the dead women hadn't visited any other bars? It hadn't been mentioned in the reports she'd read.

  "If you've been here that long, I'm surprised you haven't been gobbled up."

  His gray eyes gleamed with amusement. "Oh, a few ladies have tried that. And as much as I enjoyed the experience, they weren't what I was looking for."

  She had sudden visions of taking the thick hardness of his cock in her mouth, teasing him and tasting him as he teased and tasted her. Sweat prickled across her skin and the deep down ache became positively painful. And while it was against protocol to do that sort of thing here on the dance floor, she was sorely tempted to rush him upstairs and grab a room.

  Somehow, she managed to restrain the urge and after thrusting the enticing images from her mind, said, "So, what are you looking for?"

  "I'm not really sure I'm actually looking." His hand slid from her back to her butt, branding her skin through the thin fibers of her dress and sending delicious slivers of anticipation thrumming through her.

  Then he pulled her tighter against him, so close that she was breathing in as he breathed out, and the wild beat of his heart echoed hers. His body was warm and hard, and the thick heat of his erection rubbed erotically against her belly. God, how she wished they were naked. Wished he was inside, not outside.

  She again managed to drag her mind from the sexual mire it was seeping into, and raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you here?"

  He shrugged. "I was curious."

  He was also lying. Why she was so certain, she couldn't really say. She'd always been intuitive, but this went deeper. It was almost as if she tasted the lie in his words, and that was odd indeed.

  But if he hadn't come here to find a mate, what had he come here for? To hunt down his next victim?

  She didn't want to believe that-she really didn't. Yet it was a possibility she had to consider.

  "You're spending a lot of money just to satisfy curiosity."

  He shrugged again. "If you've got it, why not use it?"

  Why not indeed. And did that mean he was so rich that the price this place charged was little more than petty cash? "If you were looking, what would your type be?"

  His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Someone who could get me hot enough to come with just a look."

  He was teasing, and avoiding the question. Obviously, a man who didn't want to be pinned down. So how did he become a member? The bar telepathically screened all applicants to ensure those applying actually wanted kids. That they weren't just using the bar as a free sex service. How did Grey slip through their nets?

  "And have you ever found someone like that?"

  "Up until now, no."

  The heat in his gaze was growing in intensity, sending burning waves of desire lapping across her skin. She licked her lips, saw his gaze drop, felt the hunger sizzling the air leap several more notches. God, she wished she had a drink. Wished she could just throw caution to the wind.

  "So you've never actually dated any of the women here?"

  His gaze jumped back to hers, the gray depths suddenly holding the chill of winter. "No. Why do you ask?"

  "Just curious. A few of the men I talked to earlier said they'd tried it, but it hadn't worked out in the end."

  "Really?"

  He was suspicious. Not that it showed in his voice or his expression. It was just something she felt.

  Why would he be suspicious if he was innocent?

  Tension slivered through her. "Yes, really."

  He studied her for a second, gaze steely. "You wouldn't happen to be a security officer testing me out, would you?"

  She blinked. "What?"

  His grip tightened on her rear, becoming almost painful. "You heard. Are you, or are you not, security?"

  "Not. And why would security be checking you out?"

  "Because it's policy to randomly check new applicants to ensure browsers haven't slipped through the net."

  By browsers did he mean those who just wanted an easy lay rather than commitment? And why would he think the club did that? She wasn't aware of it, and she'd been briefed by the manager on not only all the club's rules and regs, but on the clubs layout and security.

  "Well, given that you are browsing, I can see why you'd be a little worried by the thought of me being security."

  His smile was a slow burn of heat, and some of the tension she'd felt in him eased. But not all. He was still wary, and she again wondered why.

  "A security officer is not someone I'd prefer to meet. Not until I find what I'm looking for, anyway."

  And he was looking, just not for a mate or children, but something else entirely different. Entirely darker.

  A chill ran through her. Why was she getting these little intuitive flashes? It was not something she'd been prone to in the past. Not so clearly, anyway.

  "I can play a security officer, if you'd like," she said, keeping her voice light. Teasing. "Want me to haul you away and interrogate you?"

  His head lowered so that his breath caressed her mouth, and his lips brushed hers as he spoke. "Interrogation was not what I had in mind."

  Her mind was shouting Yes! Yes! even as she asked, "What did you have in mind, then?"

  "This."

  His mouth came down on hers. Not gently, not tentatively, but forcefully. He was a man who knew exactly what he wanted, exactly what she wanted, and his kiss reflected that. It was urgent, hungry, his mouth plundering
hers as their tongues tangled, tasted, teased. And while it was everything she wanted, it also made her want a whole lot more. Made her want him more.

  God, the man could kiss.

  After what seemed like hours they came up for air. The rapid pounding of her heart was a cadence that seemed to override the babble of voices and the heavy, erotic music that swirled around them. The scent of desire was so thick, so strong, that all she could think about was how much she needed this man to finish what he'd started. Lord, she literally ached. She needed to touch, and be touched, and she needed it as badly as she needed air.

  It didn't matter that he was a suspect, that he didn't have a scent, that he'd lied to her more than once, and probably wasn't who he said he was. Lust was all consuming, and it was beginning to swamp all common sense.

  "I want to fuck you," he said, his breath whispering heat across her lips. "Right here, right now."

  His coarse words made desire boil over. Oh God ... she so wanted the same. But while desire might be all consuming, she knew right here and right now wasn't exactly the right thing to do. "That's against the rules."

  "Look around us. Others are doing it."

  "Just because others are doing it doesn't make it right. It could get us thrown out." And in truth, that was the only thing stopping her. She was here to do a job, and she couldn't do that job if she was banned.

  "I thought you were here to get down and have wild sex?"

  Her gaze widened a little. She certainly hadn't said that out loud-had he read her thoughts? Or merely her body language? And if he could catch her thoughts, would that explain his sudden suspicion? Had he realized she was here for more than what she was saying?

  "I am here for wild sex."

  "Then what's stopping you?"

  "I can't afford to get thrown out. I don't have the money to reapply somewhere else."

  "We won't get thrown out."

  "You can't guarantee that."

  "Yes, I can."

  There was something in his voice that made her want to believe him. Or was that merely her hormones willing her to listen to any lie in their quest for satisfaction? "How can you be so sure? Are you the owner?"

  He grinned. "I know the owner. Trust me, she won't throw us out."

  The words were barely out of his mouth when he kissed her again, and whatever slivers of control she had were totally and irrevocably smashed by the force of that kiss. By the desire and passion behind it.

  "Let's do it," he said into her mouth, the thick heat of his erection grinding so sensually against her belly.

  "Yes," she said quickly, knowing if she didn't she might well combust.

  She slid her hands to his hips and pulled down his zipper, freeing him from the constraint of his jeans. He lifted her up onto him. And then he was in her, filling her, and it felt so good. So very, very good. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him deeper still, until it felt as if the long length of him was going to spear right through her body. His thick groan of pleasure was a sound she echoed. God, having a man so deep inside was far better than she remembered. And definitely far better than the goddamn vibrators she'd been using as a substitute.

  He began to move, thrusting so deliciously deep, and thought slipped away. All she could do was move with him, savoring and enjoying the sensations flowing through her. But slow and sensuous sex was not what she wanted-or needed-right now. Not after six frustrating months of flying solo. She moved against him, taking control of the rhythm, ramping up the speed. Needing it hard, needing it fast. He matched her movements, thrusting quicker, deeper, until her whole body quivered with the force of it, and she was panting, sweating, aching with the need for completion.

  God, the heat of him, the feel of so much hard flesh pressed against her, inside and out, felt so good, so incredibly good, that she just didn't want it to stop. But it would stop, because the low down trembling was growing, fanning upwards from the hotspot where their bodies met, a wave of heat that seemed to suck the breath from her lungs. The sheer intensity of the sensations swamping her had her grabbing his shoulders, her fingers digging through his sweater, into his flesh.

  "Oh God." Her voice was little more than a fractured whisper. "Make me come. Please make me..."

  The rest of her plea was lost to a kiss that was savage, urgent, and as glorious as the sex they were sharing. Their already frantic tempo increased, his penis ramming deep, so gloriously deep inside, reaching places she'd swear had never been touched before now. And then suddenly she couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except merely feel as her climax came, sending her spiraling into a place that was sheer, unadulterated bliss. A second later he went rigid against her, the force of his release tearing a long, deep groan from his throat.

  It was yet another sound she echoed. She rested her forehead against his chest, listening to the wild beat of his heart, knowing her own was just as erratic. And in the ashes of that glorious aftermath, she hoped like hell she hadn't just fucked a murderer.

  The stud in her right ear suddenly went hot. Jack, wanting to talk to her. She sighed, and raised her head.

  "Well, that scratched an itch."

  He kissed her nose, then released her, holding her arm until she'd found her land legs again. "Why don't we take this upstairs and ease a few more?"

  The burning in her ear was getting stronger. Jack, getting impatient. She wrinkled her nose and tried for a teasing smile. "It's my first night here, you know. I'd like to try a few offers, rather than settle for the first one."

  His smile held a hint of arrogance. "Ah, but when you test the best first, why try anything else?"

  She raised an eyebrow. "But how do I know the first offer is the best until I try the others?"

  "Try them tomorrow night."

  "I'll go to the restroom and think about it."

  "I'll book a room."

  "No guarantee I'll be there." Though she wanted to be. Oh, how she wanted to be. It just depended on what Jack wanted.

  "I'll chance that."

  "It's your money." She stepped back, even though it was the last thing she really wanted to do. As sated as she was, part of her knew they'd only just scratched the surface when it came to how good they could be together. "How will I find you if I decide to take up the offer?"

  "The security officer will escort you to my room."

  She nodded, but as she turned to go, he tugged her back towards him and kissed her. It was an affirmation of intent that left her shaken and stirred.

  "No promises," she said, and was a little annoyed to hear the breathless edge in her voice. Damn it, she was here to do a job, and however much this man might affect her, she had to remember he was a suspect. She had to be careful around him.

  A thought that hadn't exactly worried her a few moments ago. God, what kind of fool was she?

  The horny kind, that's what. And after six months in isolation, her hormones were reasserting control with a vengeance. But they might just have targeted the wrong man.

  "If you don't find me," he said. "I'll find you."

  There was an edge in his voice that sent a tremor across her skin. But it wasn't caused so much by the passion in his voice but, rather, the almost calculating glint in his eyes.

  This man was definitely after something more than sex. And if that glint was anything to go by, he suspected that she was here for something more than what she was saying, too.

  Maybe fate could be a bitch after all.

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  Eryn fled to the restroom. After checking to ensure no one was there, she leaned against the vanity and let out a long, slow breath. Where had men like Grey been hiding all her life? Suspect or not, the man wasn't only seriously sexy, but he was seriously dangerous when it came to her blood pressure. And he certainly knew how to show a woman a good time-even in a short amount of time.

  Which begged the question-why come here for sex? Surely a man with his prowess and looks only had to crook a fi
nger and he'd have a dozen eager women panting for his every attention-imbalance of the sexes or not.

  It just didn't make any sense, especially when he'd admitted he wasn't here to find a partner with whom he could have children.

  Frowning lightly, she did a quick clean up, then twisted the right ear stud. "What?"

  "Having a good time, are we?" Jack's voice was dry.

  "The question is, are you?" she retorted.

  "Well, actually, the boys and I thought you could be a bit more vocal. Silent panting just doesn't do the job."

  "Tough. I'm not a screamer." Though she had been known to yodel on occasion. It was an unfortunate side effect of being a beagle shifter. "And if you called me away to say that, I'm going to bite you next time I see you."

  "I might enjoy it."

  "I very much doubt it. Being bitten by a hound dog ain't quite the same as being bitten by a woman."

  "I guess not." Amusement touched his voice. "We did a search on his name."

  "And?"

  "Grey Stockard doesn't exist."

  Surprise, surprise. "How many aliases can one man have?"

  "A few, apparently."

  "But he does use Grey on most of them, so maybe that's his real first name."

  "Possibly. But a search on the name Grey revealed thousands and thousands of them. Apparently, it was one of the more popular choices thirty to thirty five years ago."

  Which was about the age Grey looked-though with shifters, you never really could be sure, as we tend to age at a far slower rate than humans. "What about his claim of knowing the owner?"

  "We're checking that right now."

  "What about his claim that security cruise through the bar looking for browsers?"

  "The club never mentioned that sort of security arrangement, but then, they may not have figured it important."

  "Even the smallest tidbit could be important on a case like this, couldn't it?" Especially if the killer turned out to be one of the browsing security officers.

  "Yes. You got anything for us?"