Sweat lines his brow, a bead trickles down his cheek, and I lean forward to lick it away. His salty flavor fills my mouth, and I almost can’t control my urge.

  I must control it. I can’t resist the building pleasure, but I can fight what comes next. Every push of him deeper inside me drives me higher. If he were to stop now, my heart would explode. I’m not sure what would happen then.

  “Please don’t stop,” I beg louder, teetering on the edge of orgasm.

  Each hard thrust is punctuated with his growls. “So… Fucking… Good.”

  Every muscle in my body tightens into an irresistible ball low in my stomach. Tighter… tighter… Too much! …It bursts in shuddering pleasure down my thighs. A cry escapes my throat, and I’m flying through the heavens. My hazy eyes open, and I think the moon is singing. Perhaps it’s the stars.

  My orgasms are even more intense now. They radiate in my brain, and I never want them to end. Working my legs, I ride him as the waves of pleasure continue rippling through my insides.

  His forehead is against my shoulder, and I feel him coming. He bucks and holds me tight. A low groan, and the muscles in his hips flex as he throbs again and again deep inside me. My eyes close as I drink in the energy of his release—another new, intensely erotic sensation.

  Two more slower thrusts, and he stills, pressing his face into the side of my hair.

  “Fuck me.” His voice is ragged.

  We stay that way several long moments, riding out the last whispers of pleasure. I don’t want him to pull out. I want more, so much more it’s overwhelming. Only one thing would be better than this. His salty taste is still on my tongue, tempting me with his flavor. With my eyes closed, I visualize doing it, piercing his skin, feeling him slip down my throat as I swallow all his coppery richness.

  Every time he moves, another shimmer of residual pleasure tightens my core. I want to go all the way this time. I want it to be with him, this man between my thighs. His hips move slowly, and I whimper.

  “I love that sound,” he breathes against my neck. “It’s so fucking hot.”

  His words thrill me. I’ve never felt this way with a man. Not even with… the man who changed me. It’s the most I’ve ever wanted to cross that invisible line of no return. Somehow I’m certain going there with Derek would be unforgettable.

  But I can’t go there with him. I can’t give in. I hold his broad shoulders and measure his strength. It’s a striking contrast to how weak I’ve become. Every day I grow weaker. Perhaps that’s why he’s so tempting—his incredible strength.

  He presses another burning kiss against the top of my shoulder, his chest hair teases my nipples one last time. He’s still inside me, holding, until we both seem to have reached temporary satisfaction. Strong arms are around my small waist, and I’m captured in the most secure embrace before he lifts me and slides out.

  Lowered onto shaky legs, he waits as I regain my balance, inside and out.

  “Thank you,” he says quietly, and I’ve almost decided this is a dream.

  Did I doze off at the bar? His steel blue eyes capture mine, and I know it’s no fantasy. Lowering my chin, I touch my lips lightly with the tips of my fingers, making sure it’s safe for me to speak.

  “Thank you,” I say back, turning to the side so I can refasten my bra, slide the straps of my dress over my shoulders.

  He retrieves the thin navy sweater and turns it right side out before slipping it over his head, leaving his dark hair in messy waves. He’s hypnotic.

  Looking down at me with that intense gaze, he smiles. “How long will you be in the city?”

  “Until Sunday.” My voice is soft, and he steps closer.

  “I’ll be tied up with meetings during the day, but tomorrow I’ll be at Mr. B’s at seven. I hope you might stop in.”

  Mr. B’s Bistro is across the street from my hotel. It’s known for having some of the best cuisine in the city. It also has a nice bar. But that’s not what Derek wants. Like me, he’s hungry for more.

  He places a large hand on the wall beside my face, and his enormous bicep is right at my cheek. A thick vein draws my attention. “I’d like to see you again.”

  I’m walking a treacherous line, so close to giving in to my cravings. One minor slip could be the end.

  “I love Mr. B’s,” I say, and a small smile lifts the corner of his mouth.

  I want to thread my fingers in that glossy dark hair again. I want to taste his mouth one more time. I want that sensual beard roughing my skin. I want more of everything about this moment we just shared, but I know how potentially deadly that would be.

  “Shall I escort you to your room?” he asks.

  I shake my head no, and walk away from him the half-block to Royal Street. He’s still in the alley, leaning against the brick wall, watching me. The streetlight is behind him, and he looks like every fantasy I never knew to have.

  “Goodnight,” is all I say.

  “Goodnight, sweet Melissa,” his deep voice touches me through the darkness, and I’m overwhelmed by despair. It drops like a heavy cloak over my shoulders.

  My life is over.

  He starts to move, and I hasten away, up the block until I’m far from him. A few more steps and I push through the revolving door of the Hotel Monteleone.

  I might have escaped my fate tonight, but my grip on control is rapidly failing.

  2

  Craving

  Derek

  Reckless. My alarm buzzes me to consciousness, and it’s my first thought. Last night was dangerous and unprofessional. Not only did I blow off my mission, I hooked up with a total stranger—alone, with no one knowing where I was.

  In this city, in my line of work, it could’ve been the last mistake I ever made. And shit if I’m not lying here with a hard-on craving her body all over again.

  Turning to the side, an ache pinches my lower back. As much as I work out, I can’t believe I could possibly be sore anywhere, yet when I move again in my king-sized bed, I realize it’s an ache that would only come from holding another person against the ancient brick wall of Pirate’s Alley and fucking her brains out.

  Jesus. I sit up fast, marveling again at my behavior. Scrolling back through the night, it’s almost as if I were hypnotized by her sapphire eyes.

  I shake that shit away. It’s a fucking cop-out, or worse—it’s the product of working too long in the paranormal field. I’m no amateur. What happened last night was simple math. I saw an extremely beautiful, intensely sad woman sitting alone in a bar, and nothing could have kept me from going to her. We had immediate chemistry, and we acted on it.

  Her little moans and breathy cries echo in my ears, and I exhale a growl, remembering how hard I came. Rubbing my large hands over my face, I try to grab the reins.

  I need to remind myself who’s in control here. Melissa is a strong, sexy woman. Of course, I responded that way to fucking her. I haven’t been with anyone since Alison died six years ago. I haven’t wanted to. At first, it had seemed like an insult to her memory, but after a while I was too obsessed with my work to deal with starting a relationship or the needs of another person.

  Until last night.

  Yes, our intensity was off the charts. It was enhanced by my awakened desire. Like flipping a light switch, Melissa revived a need in me long dormant, and damn, if she didn’t seem to need it as much as I did. Add to that the push-pull of knowing what we were doing was dangerous and illegal… That’s all it was. Nothing more.

  Throwing the blankets aside, I walk naked to the bathroom and switch on the shower. My brain might know all of these facts, but my cock sure as hell doesn’t. Images of her sliding up and down me, riding me hard, falling apart in my arms—the raw hunger in her eyes invades my mind. I’ve never been with anyone so… receptive. I crave more of her like a drug.

  I test the water, and just before I step under the spray, I catch a faint whiff of ocean-kissed roses. Her scent is still on me. My eyes close, and I see her pale skin in the blue-shadow of moonlight. Her small breasts and dark nipples, her soft wails as I bit and teased them to stiff peaks. My dick is alert and throbbing, and I lean forward, resting my head against my forearm as I relive the pressure.

  Sliding my hand rapidly up and over my cock in the warm spray, I picture her body. She’s beautiful, delicate but strong, and her dark waves spill all around us, surrounding me in the luscious scent of flowers mingled with sex. My hand moves faster, and I remember pushing inside her wet heat. She was so tight…

  “Fuck,” I growl as my orgasm spills over and my knees get weak. I’m jacking off to her memory like a fucking teenager.

  A few more strokes, and I’m at the end. But I’m not satisfied.

  My hand is no substitute for her beautiful body. The water beats down on my shoulders, and I can’t escape it. I must have her again.

  * * *

  Melissa

  The sun burns my eyes when I open them. It’s after noon. I’m sleeping later and later as my internal clock becomes more and more nocturnal. The second queen bed in our room is empty, and I hear the shower running.

  My best friend Elaine actually planned this trip. It is not a girls’ weekend. Elaine has been a telepath since we were children. She started communicating with the dead in her teens, and before long, whispered rumors of her powers began filtering through the psychic networks.

  Families from as far away as Seattle would make the pilgrimage to our hometown on the North Carolina coast to get answers or to find peace. She would kindly tell them what she sensed, and they would thank her and try to give her money. She never accepts any.

  Her abilities have only grown stronger as she’s matured. I didn’t even have to tell her when I was taken and forced to become a monster that horrible night. She knew when my mind went silent in her perception.

  In the past Elaine could see where I’d been, what I’d done. Now our connection is gone.

  The night I lost everything, I lay on the floor hundreds of miles away, weeping and thinking as hard as I could, projecting my thoughts across the distance, calling to her. Help me, Lainey!

  Only, the receiver had been cut off. Signals lost.

  She drove all night in a panic to find me, guided only by cell phones and texts. She took me to safety, and a week later, she scheduled this trip to New Orleans.

  We’re here to meet Demeter, one of the strongest Voodoo queens in Algiers, and I need to get moving before we’re late.

  And yet… in the midst of all the horror I’ve found an escape—however fleeting. For one stolen moment, I bask in the tingling warmth of last night’s memory.

  Energy surges between my thighs as scenes of my back slammed against the brick wall, his strong arms lifting me easily, shoving my clothing aside as he ravaged my breasts and body. His enormous cock stretched and plundered my core, and ohh… with a shiver I remember the bead of sweat on his square jaw. It was so raw, he was so delicious, and I want more of him so badly.

  Getting ready for bed last night, I examined my body in the bathroom mirror. Red marks from his beard scuffed my neck and breasts, and large handprints that would normally leave bruises were faint on my ass. His marks would all be gone today. My body can tolerate much harsher treatment now, and actually, I crave the roughness.

  Before the change, I would never have engaged in such risky behavior. Now it doesn’t matter. Now I can easily lure them in, play with them, tease them to erection… Then, in the helpless throes of orgasm, I strike.

  “No!” I actually say the word out loud as I sit up in the bed. I’ve never done such a thing. I can’t or I’ll never escape this.

  Oh, how is it possible I’ve met this man now, at the darkest point in my life? Or is it because I’m at this point I found him? I’m the huntress, seeking the dominant alphas, the ones who radiate power and control, the oversized mountains of sex, with their rich blood pumping strong in their veins. It’s what I should be…

  Yet, for all of Derek’s masculinity and aggression, he was gentle and attentive to my needs. He held me all the way to the end, and then he thanked me. My cheeks flush as I remember our parting words, his steel-blue eyes holding mine.

  He’ll be at Mr. B’s tonight, waiting. Only, I’ll never appear. He won’t understand, but I can’t allow myself to explain, not that it would make sense if I tried.

  Ultimately it’s for the best—even if he never knows it. I’ve been brought so low. I have to stay away from him. I’ve never felt so sad in my life.

  I didn’t ask for this! The cry echoes through my brain again, but I have to shove it aside. Self-pity and wallowing in my tragedy won’t help me. Only action can save me now, and it has to be fast action. Before it’s too late.

  Elaine breaks my musings. “What time did you get in last night?” She’s wrapped in one of the thick, terrycloth robes from the hotel, and her light blonde hair is damp. “I didn’t hear you.”

  I look down at my clasped hands. “It was after two.”

  My clairvoyant friend has always been so sure of everything. Now she watches me like I’m a riddle she can’t solve. “What did you do after I left?”

  “Nothing much,” I lie. “I finished my drink, people-watched for a little while, then I came here.”

  She drops onto the bed beside me, her pretty face lined with worry. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I was just so tired.”

  I manage a smile. “I’m not a child, Lainey. You were exhausted. And… I don’t sleep so well anymore. Not at night anyway.”

  Taking my hands, she studies them. “Has he tried to contact you?”

  I decide not to tell her about the message waiting on my phone last night. His voice was so cold and calm, telling me to return to him.

  I can still hear his words when I told him I was leaving: Go ahead and have your fun, your final moments of humanity. You’ll be back. You’re mine now.

  My stomach cramps the harder I fight him. The distance helps some, but burning pain drags through my insides the more I resist.

  I won’t go back. I will break his power over me. These words have become my mantra, yet, at the same time, fear chills my insides. What if he’s right? What if I can never escape his power?

  My eyes heat with unshed tears at the thought. His voice echoes in my mind as surely as his blood mixes in my veins, and I shiver at the idea he can see me.

  I don’t know how to say any of these things out loud, so I don’t.

  “I left messages with everyone,” I deflect. “We’re having a girls’ weekend in New Orleans. That should satisfy them.”

  “This silence between us is killing me.” Her green eyes mist as she squeezes my hand. “I’ve always known you were safe. Now I’m afraid whenever we’re apart.”

  We move together in a hug, and her body stiffens. She pulls back quickly, lifting a lock of my hair and inhaling deeply.

  “What’s this?” Her eyes narrow as my cheeks heat. “That’s a very sexy man scent!”

  I hop off the bed moving quickly around the room. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do! Tell me more about your people watching.”

  “I only danced with someone, that’s all.” I grab fresh panties and the other robe from the closet before dashing into the bathroom. She’s right behind me.

  “Must’ve been dirty dancing if he left his scent all over you. You had sex!”

  Flashing her a glance, I press my lips together before turning to the shower. “It’s really nobody’s business what I did.”

  She dances around me, pulling my arm, forcing me to look at her. “You had sex, and from the way you’re responding, it was damn good sex. Did you…?”

  She leans forward peering into my eyes. I want to pull away, but I know what she’s looking for. Her expression brightens, and her voice drops to a whisper.

  “It was fucking great sex, and you were able to control it.” Her eyes sparkle as she bounces in place. “I think that’s incredibly significant!”

  I test the shower water without answering. She has no idea how close I came to losing control. “Will we have to discuss it with Demeter?”

  “Yes.” She answers so fast, I glance over my shoulder to meet her eyes. Her expression is serious. “I’ve never dealt with anything like this. I don’t even know if we have a chance, but I know we have to tell her everything.”

  “I have to shower.”

  My best friend nods and goes to the door. “As soon as you’re ready, we’ll get lunch then head across the river.”

  I nod before stepping into the steamy box. Lifting my hair one last time, I inhale the sensual, woodsy smell of him. Again, intense sadness floods my core. I hate to lose him, yet I know it’s for the best. My body might crave him, but I can’t give in to my cravings anymore. It’s the worst thing I could possibly do.

  Elaine and I are here to find answers, not distractions. I have to stay in control. Stepping under the warm water, I pick up the shampoo. In a few moments, he’ll be gone. It will be over, and next time I’ll be more careful.

  3

  Groundwork

  Melissa

  My red sundress is almost identical to Elaine’s green one. Both are swishy rayon with thin spaghetti straps and stop just above our knees. New Orleans is hot as hell, and the fewer clothes we can decently get away with wearing, the better.

  A blast of cool air greets us as we step through the white arched doorway of the Original Pierre Maspero’s restaurant. It’s been our favorite lunch dive since college, when we used to take occasional girls’ trips to the Big Easy.

  Nothing says party like sweating your ass off and drinking cheap beer from a plastic cup while walking through the French Quarter. Too bad that’s not the reason for our visit this time. Shaking my head, I try to figure out how it’s possible my life could have taken such a turn.

  The restaurant is only two blocks west of our hotel, and we wait to be seated at one of the small, dark-wood tables inside the circa-1788 building. The grey stucco outside hides the beauty of the weathered brick interior. It’s so gorgeous and historic, I’m overwhelmed with sadness.