A. Arthur - Passion's Prey

She saw him hit a button on his dashboard and watched as a garage door opened. He drove inside and she was treated to a bright-ass light bouncing off stark white walls. There were six parking spots, each one of them already filled with a car or truck. One was even occupied by a motorcycle. At any rate there weren’t any available spots. No matter, X put the truck in park and hit another button.

Caprise jolted slightly as the truck began a downward descent. They were sinking into the floor. She looked around curiously as they were lowered into a darker space. When they were once again on level ground he drove the truck another few feet then parked in a corner near a wall with an elevator and a door. She wondered which one they’d be using.

When X got out he took his sweet time coming back to open her door. The minute he did, she jumped out, taking in big gulps of air.

“I don’t like confinement,” she told him.

He shrugged. “Most cats don’t.”

It was instinct to reply, “I’m not a cat.”

“You are what you are, Caprise. Words won’t change that.”

He didn’t even look at her as he slapped his palm against the elevator button.

“I’m a human,” she said when they stepped into the elevator.

“And a jaguar.”

She was about to open her mouth to argue but figured it was futile to argue with X. He wasn’t the type to yell at a female but he did step in front of her, grabbing her by the back of her head. He was quick, his lips taking hers swiftly, his tongue stroking hers with a heat that licked and relit the fire inside her. Hungrily he kissed her, his teeth nipping her lips, tongue rubbing greedily over those spots. She would have tried to pull away but there was no mistaking the fierce grip he had on her head. Besides, the duel was enticing. She pulled his bottom lip into her mouth, sucked on it wantonly, and was rewarded by his other hand moving to grab her ass.

Caprise took a step, backing him to the wall this time and pressing her body against his. If X wanted to play the sex game he was going to have to learn that she was a top-notch opponent.

Every bit of lust that had been pent up inside her since she’d returned to DC came pouring out of Caprise tonight. She felt almost desperate for more the moment he touched her. It would have been demoralizing if she thought for one second X was interested in anything more than sex from her. But this was it and it was basic. Basic was safe. Safe, Caprise could definitely handle.

The elevator stopped. In the distance she heard a dinging sound, and the door opened. X grabbed her by the wrists and all but pulled her down the hall. Arousal punctuated his every step, from the way he moved his legs to accommodate the erection she’d felt pressed heavily against his thigh, to the deep rise and fall of his breathing as he tried to keep a lock on things until they were behind closed doors.

Caprise could not deny the characteristics of her own arousal. For instance, she knew for a fact her nipples were hard enough they might actually cut through the fabric of the shirt she wore. She wasn’t even going to think about how instantly her juices had begun to flow upon that succulent elevator kiss—but walking down this hallway so quickly produced a cool breeze that was heaven to the heat between her legs.

He had a keycard to open the door, which she thought was kind of strange since this was clearly an apartment or condo building, not a hotel. Then again, it was even more out of the ordinary to pull into a garage then sink through the floor to another hidden garage.

X was an FBI agent, so who knew what type of gadgets he had. Still, it made her feel like what they were doing or where they were going was some incognito spy nonsense.

X entered the apartment first, then pulled her in behind him. It was dark, but Caprise could see him just fine. She even saw the frown that marred his face when his cell phone rang.

“Is that your girlfriend? Should I leave?” she asked in a teasing tone.

He did not have a girlfriend—at least that’s what Ary had told her. She’d acted as if that was the last bit of information she’d wanted to receive, but truth be told there’d been a small pinch of relief when her sister-in-law had made the announcement.

There was no answer from him, just a frown; then he was clicking off his phone. He reached up an arm and touched an almost imperceptible pad on the wall behind him. The room became illuminated.

Caprise turned around instantly, curiosity overriding her questions about his phone call. This was his home. She didn’t know exactly how she knew this, just had a feeling—a feeling that was weirdly reaching out to her. Walking away from him slowly, her feet slapped against glossy hardwood floors. The walls all around her were white, sickening white like a hospital or insane asylum. There was a sofa, a love seat, a coffee table, a flat-screen television on the center wall above a fireplace that looked as if it had never been lit, and four framed pictures on the wall. That was it.

She shivered involuntarily but resisted folding her arms over her chest. That was her protective stance but here, standing in the center of X’s living room, Caprise doubted she needed protection. The brooding shifter across the room from her would protect her from any harm. He’d feel obligated to, considering it was technically his job. It was useless, however, since Caprise was perfectly capable of protecting herself. She’d been doing so for years. As far as protecting herself from him went, Caprise knew exactly what she was doing.

“You live alone with hardly any furnishings. It’s cold in here.” She was making simple statements, acknowledging the facts as she saw them. X looked at her as if she were giving him the time of day and he’d already checked his watch. “I don’t like the cold.”

“Then I’ll keep you warm,” he replied immediately coming to stand in front of her.

“What if I say no this time?” she asked, wondering what he was thinking. He looked closed off, as if his body was here but his thoughts might actually be someplace else.

“Then you’ll sleep on the couch and continue to be cold.”

He didn’t shrug, but the implication that he didn’t care either way was ripe in the air. So was something else in the air, she thought.

Caprise moved away from X again, exploring his personal space with him not so much as uttering a word. Through an archway was his dining area, a long rectangular space with floor-to-ceiling windows making up one side, more white walls on the other. There was a table about six feet long, marble-topped with thick legs and six chairs to match. There was nothing else.

She peeped into the kitchen and almost smiled at the repetition of design. White walls, stainless-steel appliances, dark granite countertops that matched the dining room table, on the floor large slate-gray tiles instead of glossed wood. His bedroom—that’s what had been reaching out to her, she figured, as there was still a tugging in her gut.

He wasn’t behind her when she turned, which was only a minor surprise. Usually a good host gave a new guest a tour of his home, or at the very least followed the guest while they made her own impromptu tour. X did neither. Caprise was not shocked.

There were two bedrooms, one she knew instinctively was not his because the door was wide open. Inside there was exercise equipment and another large flat-screen television. In one corner was a U-shaped desk with two desktop computers; one laptop was closed on the end of the desk. The bathroom was huge, decorated in the same slate tile from the kitchen, its shower in the center of the room in a circular shape with glass doors and an overhead showerhead. All around was the color gray: towels, walls, the tub, the toilet, like some higher being had deemed this place a perpetually cloudy day.