In the Dead of Cold Read online

  His hands had actually ached with the need to roam over her body. His dick almost shot off in his jeans and might have done so if she hadn’t used whatever ability she possessed to shove him away. He didn’t like that she could push him away without touching him, but at least she had saved him some embarrassment.

  And now, she was in his arms, as she should be, as he’d needed her to be for two long years.

  Holding her close added to his need to fuck her. He could have draped her across Mr. M.’s desk and done her right there.

  Hell. He couldn’t let her steal his control. He sucked in a breath as he worked to shove the idea aside. Before it became impossible to keep his dick behind his fly and not tucked deep within her.

  Milo ducked out the door to the foyer and the elevator. He bit his lip hard enough to cause pain and give himself something else to think about rather than the woman in his arms. He told himself he didn’t need this shit.

  But his body sure as hell did.

  Jane was like a drug, and he needed her to survive. He hadn’t known until today that she was real, or how good she felt, or how terrific she smelled. He had never believed until now that he could actually make love to her or feel her hot mouth sucking his cock.

  She was real.

  The elevator door opened, and he entered, alone with Jane in his arms. She slept, tucked against him, trusting him. He inhaled the alluring flowery scent of her and buried his nose in the softness of her hair.

  He shouldn’t have.

  His entire body reacted. More. His teeth ached and fought to grow, along with his need to taste her. His cock grew too. Through layers of clothes it touched her back, as if it had developed a mind of its own and reached for her. He tightened his arms to bring her closer.

  Before he could stop himself, he swept his tongue across her throat up to her jaw, relishing in her sweet, salty taste. Perfect.

  What was he thinking?

  He wasn’t. Pure and simple.

  Well, he was thinking. Of her.

  The woman in his arms was the woman who held his heart. She was his world. While he wanted nothing more than to bury his cock deep within her and explore every inch of her body with his tongue, he would also step forward to die for her in order to protect her.

  With her tucked safely against him where he heard her heart beat in unison with his, he made his way to his suite. A few moments later, he placed her on his bed and looked down at her. He wanted to kiss her, run his tongue over her again, slide his aching cock into her warmth, and stand and watch her sleep all at the same time.

  He did none of them, because Jane woke up then and met his gaze in a perfect, time-stopping moment.

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re in my bed for real.” He reached for the covers. “It’s about time,” he muttered under his breath. “I would like to know how you did it, though,” he added loud enough for her to hear.

  She looked up at him. “Did what?”

  “Managed to invade my dreams and got me to want you every time I slept.”

  He liked the way she studied him.

  “Do you know how beautiful you are? I could look at you forever. I’ve looked forward to bedtime every day since you first began filling my dreams,” Jane said.

  Her words were slurred, but deep and throaty and erotic. She closed her eyes.

  “In my dreams, you’re a man, a very passionate man, with no fangs, no threat. You make me scream when I come over and over. And I didn’t do anything. I thought it was something you did, some vampire trick or something.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t do anything. I never even knew I bumped up against you.”

  “I knew I bumped into you, and I felt so much. But that part wasn’t much different from touching anyone else. Well, what I learned about you was different. I thought for a while I might be going crazy or the…”

  She paused. He thought she’d fallen asleep in the middle of her sentence. Then she yawned.

  “Ability might be going haywire or something. But I never did anything. I have no idea how or why the dreams started. I’ve learned about hundreds of people after a simple touch, and I don’t dream about any of them. Don’t cover me up.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not going back to sleep.”

  She sounded drunk.

  “What the hell are you talking about? You can’t stay awake. You probably need an IV too, or something to eat or drink. You’re as pale as death. And you seem to be having a hard time talking in coherent sentences.”

  “I need a shower.”

  “You can’t even stand up.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I have to wash him off. He touched me, and he was so dirty, the evil in him so black.”

  Her loud sigh filled the room, and Milo thought she again fell asleep, but then she muttered, “Why don’t I feel that blackness in you too? You’re a vampire. I’ll have to think about it when I’m more awake.”

  She wasn’t awake enough to know she talked out loud.

  Milo sucked in a breath and fought for some control, but seeing her in his bed conjured up a few too many dream memories. Having her compare him to Bart didn’t cool his need for her in the least. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and considered calling Mr. M. She should stay in someone else’s room.

  The very idea of handing her off to anyone else sliced through his heart like a cold knife. No. No one else could touch her.

  She opened her eyes. “I can’t sleep, knowing his evil is on my skin. I know that’s probably another lie. But I need a shower before I sleep. I’ve got clean clothes too.” She looked around as if expecting to find them. “Damn, my suitcase is still in my SUV.”

  “You don’t need your clothes right now. I can find something for you.” Then he swore under his breath as she tried to sit up again but managed to fall over sideways.

  “But don’t worry about me. I don’t need your help. I can crawl in there myself.”

  To his amazement, she moved to do just that and promptly fell on the floor, catching herself with her hands. She tried to push herself up. He rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated huff.

  “Hell. Stop it. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  With his arm around her waist, he helped her to her feet, but he had to hold her against him to keep her in an upright position. Her softness touched him and set off sparks.

  “Let me go.”

  It was the last thing he wanted. Tiny zings of something close to electricity moved from her into his fingertips, all the way up his arms, and into the core of his belly. To say his cock was hard again was a lie. It was even harder, if that were possible.

  “Don’t fight me on this. I don’t care for the idea of you falling on my bathroom floor and knocking out all your teeth. Reconstructive surgery is too time-consuming and expensive.” He half led and half carried her into the bathroom. Her touch was now as familiar to him as his own breath in his lungs.

  “I like how you feel.”

  “I like how you feel too.” Fuck, did he just say that? Why didn’t he continue by telling her she had beautiful eyes? Or that she had nice legs all the way up to her great ass? Damn, even though it was all true and he loved the entire package with heart-stopping intensity, there were not enough words in the English language to describe how much he liked all of it.

  “It makes me forget what you are.”

  He wanted to clarify what he was for her, let her know she was safe with him, but he thought he’d be wasting his time. She was probably too tired to remember.

  “Your bathroom’s nice. And unique for a suite in a resort. It’s almost as large as my bedroom. Is the checkered tile on the floor marble? Do you use both the sink bowls at the same time?”

  “Thank you.” He didn’t bother to answer any of her rambling questions.

  There was a small stool next to the shower, and Milo eased her on to it. “You’re not going to fall over, are you?”

  She leaned against the wall and clo
sed her eyes. “No. At least I hope not.”

  Milo watched her. “Will a dunk in the bathtub suffice, so you don’t have to stand up?”

  “No. I don’t want to soak in how Bart made me feel. Besides, you know we’ve shared dreams in the tub, with candles all around while you’ve caressed my back. We’ve done the same in the whirlpool you have on your balcony. There is a whirlpool on your balcony, isn’t there?”

  “Yes, there is. And yes, I know we’ve done wonderful things in both of them.”

  She opened her eyes and forced a small smile. “Well, I want my first awake experience in either place to be with you, just you. Someone as evil and dirty as Bart can’t be there.”

  What was she saying? That she planned to make the dreams reality? That she planned to do more than take a shower? Milo’s heart picked up pace. His dick stood at hopeful attention. He tried to ignore it and couldn’t.

  Milo closed his eyes for a brief moment and mentally counted to keep from grabbing her and starting those awake things right now. With a loud, frustrated snap, he pulled off his tie.

  Jane reached for the buttons of her shirt, then paused. “What are you doing?”

  At the rate she moved, he thought she’d make it to the shower by next week. “I’m going to shower with you,” Milo said, fighting to keep his frustration at needing to explain out of his voice.

  “No, you’re not.”

  Oh yes, I am. You’re having trouble keeping yourself upright on the stool. And even if you weren’t having trouble standing, I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to turn my own dreams into reality. He wasn’t about to waste time arguing the issue.

  “I’ll be fine. I don’t need your help.”

  He let out an oath. “You can’t hold yourself up. So don’t argue with me on this. You won’t win. Besides, I can’t recall a single argument in any of our dreams.” Milo had all his clothes off before she even finished with her buttons.

  “I don’t want to talk about the dreams anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s hard enough to deal with reality right now. Besides, I can’t think about the passion you bring me night after night when you’re like the monster who attacked me behind the bookstore.”

  Anger boiled through him. The thought of grabbing her arms and shaking some sense into her passed through him. Instead, he stooped down until he was eye level with her. “Don’t ever compare me to him. I’m not him. I don’t kill people for the thrill of it. Understand?” He hoped to hell his words penetrated the fog of fatigue that clouded her brain.

  He wasn’t sure if his words got through to her, especially since she stared at his cock for five long seconds. “You’re naked.”

  No kidding. It took her long enough to notice. “Does it bother you?”

  She looked up at him. “Not really. Well, maybe a little. I mean, I’ve seen you lots of nights. I’ve loved you, touched you, and correct me if I’m wrong, I’ve caressed every inch of you with both my fingers and my tongue. But it’s nothing compared to seeing you in the flesh in the bright bathroom light.”

  Hell, she needed to stop. She needed to shut up. This was hard enough, his cock included. She sounded slaphappy with fatigue.

  “I mean, my heart’s pounding. My mouth feels like a desert. Funny I should think of a desert and the color of sand. It’s the same color as your…hair.”

  Her gaze followed the hair on his chest as it snaked down his belly.

  Chapter Three

  Jane stared at him.

  Bigger, thicker, and shamelessly harder than anything ever in her imagination or in any of the dreams they’d shared.

  She fought the urge to reach out and touch his cock, make sure he was real, but he knelt before her again, moving out of reach. His thigh brushed her leg. His heat sent a tingling wave through her. Soon she’d have to sleep and then eat—as she always did after exerting so much energy. But she was freezing right now and drawn to his warmth.

  “Let me help you.”

  Yes, please.

  She didn’t say a word as he finished with her buttons.

  He studied her as he removed each garment.

  Her skirt was already a lost cause, but he treated it as if it were something precious. He stared at her tiny aqua panties.

  “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about our dream where you told me you loved aqua panties on me. Then you peeled them off me with your teeth.”

  What came out of him sounded like a growl as he pulled her to her feet and slid her panties down her legs. She leaned against him and swayed like a thin tree branch in a strong wind.

  With his closeness and his very intense study as he finished undressing her, Jane found she needed to swallow and discovered she couldn’t.

  “You’re as beautiful as in my dreams.” His voice was rough as if he spoke through a tight throat. He straightened, then reached and touched her hair. “Your hair is so golden. And your eyes are a lovely color blue.”

  Saying nothing, she clenched her teeth together. If she hadn’t been covered with gooseflesh and bruised all over, she would have thought she was living another dream with Milo.

  His hands were still in her hair. He moved so that he cupped his hands on either side of her face. He touched his lips to hers. It was a simple touch, nothing more than an exploration, a quick taste. And yet, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to get lost in his kiss.

  “Mmm, I love how you taste.”

  He tasted familiar and exciting and masculine, with a hint of mint. She was forced to let out her breath. And for a long moment, she didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t want to wake from this dream.

  He kissed her again, and his kiss deepened. It jumped on the intensity scale by about fifty points. His tongue touched hers, and she couldn’t breathe. Even if she’d had the energy to pull away, she couldn’t. His kiss was like oxygen, and Jane was like a newborn, breathing in her first lungful. Now she needed it.

  Their tongues danced in the same ancient dance they’d shared together many nights. Jane had no idea how many mornings she’d awoken to find her mouth tingling with need that only his kiss could satisfy.

  His mouth grew urgent. The heat of his entire body pressed against her, his toes touching hers, his thighs against her thighs, the softness of the hair on his chest tickling her nipples. His hard cock pressed against her belly and left her wanting more. She moaned into his kiss.

  He let go of her face and slid his hands down her shoulders to her arms.

  In his touch, his need, his want, and his heat rolled into her, bringing her back to reality.

  ”I need to wash off the dirty feel of Bart.”

  “Let me.”

  In those two words, she heard the seductive lover who filled her dreams every night.

  Without another word, he led her into the shower. Holding her against him, he turned on the spray. His plumbing was designed to spray water at all angles, showering Jane with its warmth from every direction, not just from above.

  The heat of the water relaxed her even more. She leaned against him and discovered he was little more than hard, lean planes that fit to her like a puzzle piece. Being close to him warmed her more than the water did.

  “I thought you would be cold.”

  His hands moved across her body as if he played a fine, delicate instrument. He paused in scrubbing her with soap. “What?”

  “I thought vampires were cold. Bart was.”

  “No doubt. Am I cold in our dreams?”

  “No. But vampires are in the movies.”

  “And you believe everything you see in the movies?” He continued with his cleansing massage.

  “No.” She tried to get even closer to his heat.

  “Good, because vampires are more human than the movies ever give us credit for.”

  Despite the kiss, he seemed oblivious to her being naked and covered with bubbles as he scrubbed her, except for the fact that his dick was wonderfully hard and pressed against her at every o
pportunity.

  “Do you feel better now that I’ve cleaned you off?”

  Oh, did she! “Yes.” The cold, dirty feel of Bart had slithered down the drain, leaving nothing but Milo’s mesmerizing touch that was better than any dream and hotter than the steam filling the small room. His hands on her breasts, swirling soap suds in circles, caused her insides to melt and stream warm liquid to her pussy.

  Heat, need, want, and desire rolled into her with each touch of his hands and fingers. She sighed and held on to his arms in an effort to allow the energy she felt in him to flow into her.

  The abrasions from her scuffle with Bart burned, but it was easy to ignore the pain while Milo caressed her nipples with his thumbs, leaving them hard and wanting, seeming to reach for him.

  She looked up through the steam and saw raw hunger in his gaze. “Milo?” His hands were in her hair, and it was hard to keep her eyes open under his cleansing massage of her scalp.

  “What?” he asked without looking at her.

  Well, he was looking at her, just not with his eyes. He studied her body as he smeared bubbles around on her as if he’d never seen her before.

  ”Did you come to me in my sleep and bite me and drink my blood? Is that why I’ve dreamed about you all this time?” She wasn’t certain she believed him when he said he hadn’t known she existed.

  He paused in the process of washing her hair and stared at her as if she’d asked him to swallow a live snake.

  “I told you I didn’t think you were real. At first I did, but without a name or a fingerprint or an address, I didn’t have a starting point when it came to finding you.”

  She felt his anger again.

  “But you knew I was real. You could have contacted me in some way.”

  “I was afraid to, knowing what you are,” she admitted. “Besides, I didn’t know until now that we actually shared the dreams together.” It sounded like a lame excuse, but it was the best she could give him just then.