Defeat the Darkness (31 page)

She got right up in his face. “I want to give them a piece of my mind as soon as you can arrange it. Now would even be better.”

Hunter jerked back a step. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that? There was no way he could let her near the Regents, even if he'd been wanting to
have the same discussion with them for years now. But Paladins fought until they could fight no more. That was their fate, no matter how they felt about it. He just wasn't used to someone other than his band of brothers giving a damn about the cost to their souls.

Tate wasn't going to be satisfied with platitudes or bullshit about the secrecy demanded by his employers. He wouldn't put it past her to go on a holy crusade if he didn't head her off at the pass.

“Some things are the way they have to be, Tate, regardless of how they seem to an outsider.” Thanks to his night vision, he saw all too well how that last word hurt her.

He seemed to spend a lot of time trying to apologize to this woman. “Look, I didn't mean it that way. But there are reasons for the way we live. Maybe someday we'll figure out a better way to do things, but for now it's best to maintain the status quo.”

Her silence puzzled him. She tended to shoot from the hip, so he had no idea what was going on in that head of hers. The wisest course of action was to walk her back home and then run like hell before he forgot his promise to leave her alone. Yeah, she'd followed him, but that didn't absolve him of all responsibility, not when he'd given his word.

She turned away from him. “I hate this, Hunter. I can't concentrate on anything, wondering where you are and what you're doing and if you're hurting again. Still. More.”

He eased up behind her, circling her waist with his arms, trying to comfort her. When she slowly leaned
back against him, he bent down to rest his head next to hers, soaking up the seconds before common sense reared its ugly head and he forced himself to walk away.

“I wish I could pull one of those mind melds you mentioned and take this all away from you, but I can't.”

She reached back over her shoulder to rest the palm of her hand against his face. He closed his eyes to better savor the touch. “I wouldn't want that.”

“Not even now? After all you've seen and heard?”

She turned in his arms. “Not even now, especially after all I've seen and heard. I might not be able to understand how you live your life, but I don't regret having
known
you, Hunter Fitzsimon.”

Her eyes were huge in her face when she added, “Not in any sense of the word. Because you know what, no matter what happens from this point on, nothing is going to change the fact that I love you.”

Then she raised up on her toes and kissed him as if her life, and maybe his, depended on it.

H
unter leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “You have to know I never meant for that to happen.”

She managed a small smile. “I know, and I'm not asking for anything in return. I just couldn't stand for you to eventually walk away without knowing how much I care about you.”

He struggled to respond, his own emotions were a fucked-up mess. If words existed that could describe them, they weren't in his vocabulary.

“In a perfect world, I would tell you…” He stopped there, unable to go any further with that particular thought. “But this isn't a perfect world. It's my world, and I won't drag you into it.”

“Too late, big guy. I'm already there. At least for right now.”

He knew he should walk away—or, better yet, run.
But for this one moment, he had Tate in his arms, with her love for him in her eyes, and his heart in his throat.

The last thing he'd expected when he'd set off on his nightly walk was a chance to hold Tate again, much less hear those words from her. Sure, he'd hoped to catch a glimpse of her up there in that window seat, reading a book while she pretended to not be watching for him. They'd both been skating the edges of their promise to stay away, but now they'd blown the whole deal to hell and back.

And, frankly, he didn't give a damn, not with Tate so close. An hour from now, or maybe tomorrow morning, they'd have to rebuild those walls. But not now. Not yet.

His hands sought out the warm silk of her bare skin underneath her soft cotton T-shirt. Could she sense how right it felt to be skin to skin again, even if only that much? God, he hoped so. He didn't want to be the only one on the verge of a total meltdown under the starlit sky.

“Hunter, please…” she murmured as she kissed his jawline and did a little burrowing of her own.

He moaned as she gently raked her nails down the length of his back, pressing her body against his. He eased his hand down across her waist to trace the curve of her bottom, lifting her higher, holding her closer, wishing he could lay her down and love every inch of her the way she deserved.

His conscience might not let him strip off her clothes and take her right there in the woods, but he could at least pleasure her. It was amazing how easy it was to ignore the vow he'd made to protect Tate, even from himself, no matter the cost.

The elastic waistband of her pajamas proved no barrier
at all as he sought out the center of her desire. She jerked with surprise, then murmured her approval as he touched and teased her with the same sweet, syncopated rhythm that marked the dance of their kiss.

He smiled against Tate's lips, sensing how close she was to coming apart at the seams. Oh, yeah, this was going to be incredible for her, and he would be happy with that. He'd have to be. But then headlights flickered through the woods as a car drove past out on the road. The sudden illumination startled Tate, and she immediately pushed herself free from his touch.

She stood there, just out of reach, breathing hard and looking adorably rumpled. Slowly she shook her head, as if to clear away the passion-induced cobwebs. Finally, she tugged at her flannels, pulling them back up firmly around her waist and holding his jacket closed over her chest.

“What are we doing here, Hunter?”

“I would think the answer to that would be obvious.” He kept his voice calm and level, but inside he was screaming with the need to finish what they'd started.

She shot him a disgruntled look. “That's not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Then tell me where we go from here, Tate, because tonight could be all we have.”

“Yes, I know, but I've also never asked you for more than you could offer.”

No, she hadn't. She'd given him so much, making him realize what a selfish bastard he'd become. He knew full well how he felt about her. The least he could do was tell her.

He reached out to her with his hand and his truth and threw the dice. “I've never said this to anyone else, and saying it now won't change anything, but I do love you, Tate. Let me show you how much.”

Then he held his breath and waited for her answer.

She had to be out of her mind. When she headed to the sanctuary of her bedroom, she wasn't going alone. She took Hunter's hand in hers, her throat tight with the need for his touch. “Let's find someplace more private to continue this discussion.”

His smile heated her through and through.

As they walked back toward the house, they took their time and enjoyed the journey. She'd never thought of the simple act of holding hands as foreplay, but the solid feel of his fingers entwined with hers was revving her engine like crazy. Small tingles of warmth glided up her arm and spread through her body.

In the shadows cast by the streetlights, Hunter stopped to pull Tate into his arms. His soft lips contrasted sharply with the slight roughness of his skin against hers as he kissed her and his tongue danced with hers. God, he tasted like male heat and temptation.

She liked that he wasn't rushing to finish what they'd started, instead taking his time to relish each moment. He made her feel cherished and loved, and that was enough. It was all they had, but she wasn't going to dwell on that. Not now.

He seemed content to simply hold her, but she wanted more. “Let's go upstairs.”

They walked into the house through the back door and straight up the steps. The last time Hunter had been in her bedroom was when she'd woken up to the shock of him alive and well after being stabbed through the heart. She shoved those memories out of her head. Despite the differences in his DNA, she knew he was a good man. That's all that mattered.

That and the fact that he loved her.

She left his side long enough to turn down the bed and to fetch a box she'd picked up at the pharmacy on her last trip into town.

“We'll need these.”

Hunter smiled his approval when she handed it to him. “Good thinking. I'd hate to have to make a run into the city right now.”

He set the box on the bedside table and reached for the bottom of his T-shirt. Tate caught his hands in hers. “Let me.”

Then she proceeded to strip him of all the trappings of civilization. His shirt, his pants, everything. Finally, using all of the tools at hand—tongue, touch, and taste—she stripped him of all control.

“Woman, you're killing me here,” he groaned. “Enough of that.”

Then he pulled her back up to her feet and turned the tables. Her clothes disappeared, carelessly tossed about while he murmured his approval of each patch of soft skin he uncovered. She knew herself to be ordinary, but Hunter made her beautiful with the worshipful way he touched her, his eyes burning bright and greedy.

Finally, he settled her on the bed, his weight pressing
down on her as he took her deep and hard. She cried out, loving the give-and-take and the way their bodies fit together.

He paused, pushing himself up to arm's length from her, his stormy eyes looking a bit rueful. “I want to go slow, but I can't. Not this time.”

Even as he spoke, he was moving over her, in her. She wasn't about to complain and told him so while digging her fingertips into the bunched muscles of his world-class backside.

“Give me all you've got, Hunter. I can take it. I want it.” Then she locked her heels around his hips, angling her body up to better meet his thrusts.

He braced himself and then cut loose, relentlessly driving them both to the brink. The skin on his face was pulled taut as he strained for both control and completion. Having that effect on such a strong man was heady stuff, as Tate fought to push him over the edge.

It didn't take long, and he dragged her screaming over the precipice with him. The warm cocoon of her bed shattered into a billion little pieces, and she wasn't sure they would ever fit back together again. Hunter's powerful body shuddered and shook as he poured out his passion deep inside her. Tate held on for dear life and rode out the storm.

And then, for the first time in days, she knew peace.

Hunter was pretty sure he'd died—again. His heart had certainly stuttered to a stop and his lungs had surely burst as he and Tate had crossed the finish line. But
even a dead man should have better manners than to crush his lover—at least until he was ready for round two.

He mustered up enough energy to roll to the side, taking Tate with him and tucking her in close beside him.

“That was amazing.” She sighed and snuggled closer. “Think we woke the neighbors?”

Had he ever laughed with a lover? He didn't think so. “I'm surprised that D.J. and company haven't come charging in with their swords drawn to make sure we weren't under attack.”

Her soft laughter warmed his soul as her hand wandered down his body. “I'll be glad to tell them this particular sword is more than capable of handling any situation that should arise in here.”

Oh, yeah, when she touched him like that, he felt invincible.

He lifted her up onto his chest, shifting so that she straddled his hips. “In that case, let me show you some of my favorite moves.”

Her eyes lit up. “Okay, let's see what you've got.”

“Hold on, then, because it's going to be one heck of a ride.” He grasped her hips and held her still until their bodies were once again joined.

Tate sighed, her fingers flexing on his chest like a contented cat's. With a siren's smile, she leaned down close for a long, deep kiss that only served to fan the flames higher as their passion burned. Once again, he wasn't sure he'd survive the experience, but at least he'd die a happy man.

• • •

Morning came way too soon. Normally Tate enjoyed waking up to a bright sunny day. But not this time, not knowing if this was not only the first time she'd wake up in Hunter's arms but the last as well.

“Don't think about it so hard,” he said groggily. “We don't have to get up yet, do we?”

She reached up to touch his face, liking the roughness of his morning beard. “No, not yet.”

“Good.” Then he touched his lips to hers.

God, the man sure knew how to kiss. He nibbled at her lower lip before slipping his tongue inside her mouth, inviting her to join in and play. She wrapped her arms around his neck as the passion once again flared white hot between them. Hunter thrust his knee between her legs, the pressure easing her ache a little, but not nearly enough.

His hands explored every inch of her body, even places she'd never known were so erotic, all the while murmuring hushed descriptions of exactly what he planned to do to her. Some of his ideas shocked her, but she still couldn't wait for him to follow through.

Hunter's stormy eyes met hers, his smile wicked as he began a long journey down her body, following the trail his hands had blazed only moments before. He kissed his way down her throat, paying special attention to the pulse point at the base of her neck. Once again, he nuzzled her breasts, whispering his praise as he suckled one and then the other.

She giggled when his breath tickled her belly button
and the slight curve of her stomach. But then he settled between her legs, sliding his arms under her thighs, tilting her hips up at a higher angle. Was he going to… oh, yes, he was. He kissed her most private place, his breath warm and moist. Her head kicked back on the pillow as myriad sensations flashed through her.