piercings and if his guess was right, a few tattoos, as well, but she was in no way covered like him.
He’d gotten sleeves done some six years prior, coating both arms in artwork he’d designed himself. His back had a tattoo spanning from one shoulder blade to the other. His legs were free from ink for the most part, with the exception of his right calf. It had a sword through a skull on it, done back when old school was new. Nothing quite like waking up in a tiny, darken place in Honolulu with some guy with an oiled pompadour wearing a white T-shirt, branding you for life. A drawback of immortality.
Marcy pushed her chin-length hair back from her face, her gaze meeting his from across the club. Kit stiffened, his breathing grew shallow and his pulse sped. Only she had this type of power over him.
She’s a witch. An enchantress.
There was no other answer for it.
Marcy wagged a finger and gave him a come-hither look. He obliged, his feet moving of their own accord—not that he’d have tried to stop them. The only thing he could do was run with it. He handed his beer to Torres and didn’t bother fighting the lure better known as Marcy. By the time he reached her, his cock was hard enough to hammer nails.
She smiled, her lips bloodred.
Need slammed through him. No longer would he deny himself the pleasure he knew she’d bring.
Marcy turned, putting her body against his. Kit took hold of her hips and moved along with the music, pressing against her ass and gritting his teeth. She let out a sultry laugh. The sound rushed straight to his groin. He groaned, jerking her against him and narrowly avoiding coming.
Chapter Two
Marcy closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of Kit against her. He haunted her dreams and tempted her waking hours. It hardly seemed fair. Such was life.
His skin was cool to the touch and her body was feverish. The combination was explosive. She whimpered as Kit ran the back of his hand up her side and under the halter top she wore.
Rocking against him, her inner thighs tightened as pleasure built deep inside her. The very sight of him nearly drove her over the edge of sanity. Having him this close was almost too much.
He lifted her skirt with his other hand, dragging his fingers up her thigh. Marcy panted, swaying to the music with him. If her dreams were right, Kit wasn’t a man to toy with or tempt but she couldn’t stop the pull he had over her. She moved against him, her body tense and her breathing off.
“K-Kit,” she whispered as his fingers skated over her nipple.
He bent, his mouth coming to a rest over her ear. “Mmm, yes?”
How could he have heard her over the music? She’d barely heard herself.
She slid an arm up and cupped the back of his head, her fingers trailing through his black hair. It was shorn off in the back but long in the front. So long that it hung past his shoulders. He had streaks of white-blond in the front long portion. The color often changed. She’d only vetoed the green. The rest hadn’t bothered her. The sides of his hair were cut short, as well.
He lowered his head just enough that the silver hoops in his bottom lip brushed against her cheek. Marcy leaned, giving in and nuzzling her mouth to them. She licked between two and fisted his hair as best she could with their height difference.
Kit’s body stiffened and he jerked her to him.
Marcy came to her senses a moment before she would have begged him to fuck her. Pulling free of his grasp, she moved quickly through the crowd. People pushed in all around her, swarming her. The air grew hot and stale. Something made her look back. She did and found Kit’s dark gaze locked on her. It was as if the crowd was a sea and he the man parting it. He moved with a fluid grace that wasn’t natural.
Cautiously, her gaze slid lower. The strobe lights flashed, making her wonder if what she’d seen was real or imagined. Was he even touching the floor? Kit couldn’t levitate. People didn’t do
He’d gotten sleeves done some six years prior, coating both arms in artwork he’d designed himself. His back had a tattoo spanning from one shoulder blade to the other. His legs were free from ink for the most part, with the exception of his right calf. It had a sword through a skull on it, done back when old school was new. Nothing quite like waking up in a tiny, darken place in Honolulu with some guy with an oiled pompadour wearing a white T-shirt, branding you for life. A drawback of immortality.
Marcy pushed her chin-length hair back from her face, her gaze meeting his from across the club. Kit stiffened, his breathing grew shallow and his pulse sped. Only she had this type of power over him.
She’s a witch. An enchantress.
There was no other answer for it.
Marcy wagged a finger and gave him a come-hither look. He obliged, his feet moving of their own accord—not that he’d have tried to stop them. The only thing he could do was run with it. He handed his beer to Torres and didn’t bother fighting the lure better known as Marcy. By the time he reached her, his cock was hard enough to hammer nails.
She smiled, her lips bloodred.
Need slammed through him. No longer would he deny himself the pleasure he knew she’d bring.
Marcy turned, putting her body against his. Kit took hold of her hips and moved along with the music, pressing against her ass and gritting his teeth. She let out a sultry laugh. The sound rushed straight to his groin. He groaned, jerking her against him and narrowly avoiding coming.
Chapter Two
Marcy closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of Kit against her. He haunted her dreams and tempted her waking hours. It hardly seemed fair. Such was life.
His skin was cool to the touch and her body was feverish. The combination was explosive. She whimpered as Kit ran the back of his hand up her side and under the halter top she wore.
Rocking against him, her inner thighs tightened as pleasure built deep inside her. The very sight of him nearly drove her over the edge of sanity. Having him this close was almost too much.
He lifted her skirt with his other hand, dragging his fingers up her thigh. Marcy panted, swaying to the music with him. If her dreams were right, Kit wasn’t a man to toy with or tempt but she couldn’t stop the pull he had over her. She moved against him, her body tense and her breathing off.
“K-Kit,” she whispered as his fingers skated over her nipple.
He bent, his mouth coming to a rest over her ear. “Mmm, yes?”
How could he have heard her over the music? She’d barely heard herself.
She slid an arm up and cupped the back of his head, her fingers trailing through his black hair. It was shorn off in the back but long in the front. So long that it hung past his shoulders. He had streaks of white-blond in the front long portion. The color often changed. She’d only vetoed the green. The rest hadn’t bothered her. The sides of his hair were cut short, as well.
He lowered his head just enough that the silver hoops in his bottom lip brushed against her cheek. Marcy leaned, giving in and nuzzling her mouth to them. She licked between two and fisted his hair as best she could with their height difference.
Kit’s body stiffened and he jerked her to him.
Marcy came to her senses a moment before she would have begged him to fuck her. Pulling free of his grasp, she moved quickly through the crowd. People pushed in all around her, swarming her. The air grew hot and stale. Something made her look back. She did and found Kit’s dark gaze locked on her. It was as if the crowd was a sea and he the man parting it. He moved with a fluid grace that wasn’t natural.
Cautiously, her gaze slid lower. The strobe lights flashed, making her wonder if what she’d seen was real or imagined. Was he even touching the floor? Kit couldn’t levitate. People didn’t do
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