Anya Bast - Witch Blood

She laughed again. “You’re pretty ripped for an elderly person. As for what you’ll get if you win, it will be a surprise.” She quickened her pace, not even out of breath.

He shot after her, keeping right on her tail until they were at the top. By that time they were both panting hard. They jostled their way to the door, elbowing each other out of the way. It was close, but Thomas got there first. Isabelle brushed past him, put her hand to the knob, and started to pull, but Thomas pressed his hand to the door and closed it.

Bracketing her as she faced the door, he dropped his head and murmured, “I won,” in her ear. “I want my surprise.”

Isabelle turned, his body still crowding hers. He liked the proximity, liked the heat her body gave off and the scent of her light perfume. Thomas dropped his gaze to her chest, rising and falling quickly in her exertion, and wondered what color her nipples were. Wondered what they tasted like.

Thomas wanted her stripped and spread on his bed. Wanted to drag his hands over every inch of her skin, kiss the backs of her knees and lick the sensitive skin at the base of her spine. He wanted his cock tunneling in and out of her slick, wet heat, wanted her wrists captured and pressed to the bed while he drove himself into her fast and hard. He wanted to feel the muscles of her sex pulse and ripple along his length as she came. He simply wanted her. Wanted her with a base, male urge that made his cock go rock hard.

She stared up at him with her lips parted in surprise. Isabelle was empathic, she had to understand the lust he felt for her. He lowered his head to hers, knowing damn well this was a bad idea.

Isabelle stilled, even her breath stopped as he brushed his lips across hers. Once. Twice. Her hands grasped his wrists, slid up his arms. He nipped at her lower lip and her breath sighed out of her, warming his mouth.

It was the spark that made a fire roar to life inside him.

He dragged her up against his chest, hungrily pressing his lips to hers and demanding that she open for him. She whimpered somewhere low in her throat and parted her lips. He slid his tongue inside and let it war with hers. She tasted hot and sweet, felt like silky heaven. He knew where else she’d feel like silky heaven and he wanted to stroke her there until she shattered for him.

More . He wanted more of her.

Damn it. He wanted her clothes off, wanted her bare flesh under his hands. He wanted her legs parted, his cock pistoning deep inside her and her moans and sighs echoing in his ears. He wanted to feel the slick, hot clasp of her sex around his cock and her bare breasts filling his hands.

At the moment, that was all he could think about.

Her fingers curled around his shoulders as she pushed back at him, returning his kiss every bit as hungrily.

Beyond rational thought, he found the edge of her shirt and pushed his hand past it, finding smooth, warm skin beneath. Lady, he wanted her so badly he’d take her right here on the stairs if she’d let him. Who cared they were still in Gribben?

Who cared about anything but this ?

Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, and then dropped to the button and zipper of his pants. She undid them and slipped her hand down, searching out the hard, ridge of his cock through the fabric of his boxers. She stroked him as he pressed against her palm, groaning in the back of his throat.

But noises past the closed door of the stairwell intruded. The guards shouted at someone….

Isabelle broke the kiss, her lips red and swollen. “What’s that?”

Damn it all to hell.

He made a frustrated sound, released her, and did his pants back up in a hurry. Then he opened the door to the commotion beyond. As he stepped into the hallway he got a glimpse of a familiar form arguing with the men at the security checkpoint just inside Gribben’s front door.

The men let her through and Mira, his cousin and a powerful air witch, emerged past the checkpoint, flanked by guards. She staggered as she entered the non-magickal zone, put a hand to the area between her breasts and caught herself against a wall. “Goddess, that’s horrible.”

“Mira? What are you doing here?” he asked.

She looked up, peering through the tangle of dark hair that crossed her face. “I heard a whisper.”

A VOICE ON THE WIND, THE ONE MIRA HAD OVERHEARDvia her air magick, had spoken of a man named Simon Alexander. A man that may or may not be a demon in disguise. An air witch could troll the air for certain spoken words, eavesdrop at a distance on conversations. Mira had been on constant alert since the first murder for any murmurings related to the demon and it had finally paid off.

Magick tingled down Thomas’s arms and through his fingertips from the tattoo that also served as a magickal storage source on his back as he murmured words of power to secure a warding. Hours after Mira had heard the whisper, the Coven had secured the empty apartment across from Alexander’s in order to do some surveillance work.

He’d brought Isabelle and Adam with him for the first shift. Theo, one of the Coven hunters, and Jack would take the second shift. Micah was busy sifting through the texts they’d received from the Duskoff.

“I can’t believe Alexander’s been living just a few miles from the Coven for the last ten years,” muttered Adam. He finished with a shake of his blond head. “Fuck me.”

Their investigation had revealed that Alexander was an accountant — or was posing as an accountant — for a chain of motorcycle dealerships and that he’d been living in the Lakeview area of Chicago for the last ten years. The Coven’s sprawling campus lay near the northern portion of the Forest Glen area, only a short drive away.

“That’s Emma’s job,” Isabelle replied with a grin as she adjusted the spelled listening device they’d use to eavesdrop on Alexander’s apartment. Isabelle could have done it through the water running through an unwarded residence, but Thomas had amped up her ability to listen in remotely by spelling a simple surveillance system. It would also allow Adam and himself to monitor Alexander as well, even though they were not water witches.

Whether Mira had caught the communication by chance, by pure dumb luck, or because the demon had deliberately blown it her way was a matter of debate. The fact that they’d been searching so long for a sign of the demon, only to have one pop up now, was ample cause for suspicion. Still, they had to take the chance it was legitimate. Too many lives were at risk.

“It’s not Emma’s job anymore,” Adam answered with a grin. “Now it’s Elizabeth’s.” Despite the fact that Adam smoked too much, drank too much, and the fact that he was less than classically attractive — with a nose that had been broken one too many times and a head full of spiky blond hair — women found him irresistible. Lots of women. And, unlike Micah, Adam knew just what to do with the attention.

“You’re such a slut.” Isabelle shook her head as she fiddled. “You go through so many women I can’t even keep track. One day you’re going to find one who breaks your heart.”

“That sounds like a curse, Isabelle. Or is it a promise? Want to break my heart, baby?” He leered at her. “I’ll let you try.”

“You couldn’t handle me, Adam,” she shot back with a grin.

He narrowed dark blue eyes at her. “Now that I believe.”

Letting them banter, Thomas glanced around the room, sensing the walls, floor, ceiling, and doors to make sure he’d covered every inch with the warding. The physical space was bare, except for some tools the building maintenance crew had left. New caramel-colored carpeting covered the floor and the tang of fresh paint stung his nose.