Page 58 of Lover Forbidden (The Black Dagger Brotherhood #23)

Noodle legs.

Holy fucking shit, as Dev walked along the snow-covered urban sidewalk, he had seriously loose legs, to the point where he was amazed he was not only upright, but throwing out fairly even strides. Beside him, on the other hand, Lyric was having absolutely no problems with the ambulation—

He stole another glance at her.

She was fucking resplendent in the wind, her blond hair loose in the cold gusts, his windbreaker protecting her from the tundra temperature, her cheeks flushed from the chill. Or all that exertion back in the stairwell.

Dear Lord, from her damn exertion.

As they hit the straightaway back to her place at the Commodore, he kept replaying what she’d done to him, and what do you know.

His dumb handle was beyond ready for more of her attention.

Just the memory of her lowering herself onto her knees in front of him was enough to bring back the blood flow—and the fact that she had done it to him in that stairwell?

With all those people in the convention center? She’d surprised the hell out of him.

Between her lips, and that leather top with her breasts almost spilling out—

“Whoops!”

As she grabbed for his arm, he snatched her from a free-fall, swinging her off her totally impractical thigh-high boots.

Not that he didn’t appreciate the boots. Fuck him very much, he wanted her to straddle him, wearing nothing but the frickin’ boots.

Lyric’s laughter was free and light in the winter night, and as he settled her against his chest with an arm behind her knees and another around the small of her back, he knew two things: He didn’t ever want to let her go; and he was going to have to do just that.

“We should have taken an Uber,” he said roughly as he started walking again.

“It’s not that far. Only, what—like eight blocks?”

“On ice. Those boots of yours are deadly.”

Lyric extended one leg out. “You don’t like them, huh.”

“Oh… I like them.” He rather liked the idea of her making him kiss them. While he was on his hands and knees. “Just not outside in January in Caldwell.”

“You can put me down, you know.”

“I’m good. If you are.”

Lyric smoothed some of his hair back. Then she laid her head on his shoulder. As he continued on, he cherished the feel of her against him, the use of his muscles to keep her up off the ground, the way his body inflated with purpose.

His sire really had been part vampire, hadn’t he.

All Dev’s life, he’d taken after his mother’s side of things, no fangs, no drinking blood, no transition, and no night-only shit.

But there was something primal happening, right under his skin, as he carried Lyric to that apartment she didn’t really live in…

something that felt ancient and important.

Not that she could ever take his blood.

“What else were you going to talk to me about,” she asked. “Back at the stairwell.”

“Before or after the incredible blow job.”

Lyric’s laughter vibrated into him, and he would have closed his eyes just so he could track every nuance of it if he could have. But he didn’t need both of them on their asses.

Up ahead, the vertical lettering on the side of the high-rise glowed like a false moon: COMMODORE. Of course she would have an apartment in a place like that—a place where she could take humans if she was going to be with them—

A sudden urge to snarl cut off that line of thinking.

But come on. Like she hadn’t had lovers before? And maybe there were other reasons for her to have a crash pad in the midst of the other species: Like a pretend driver’s license or social security number, it was another level of nothing-to-see-here.

Part of the necessary ruse.

“Dev? What do you need to tell me?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I just…”

“It’s okay.” She cleared her throat. “Look, I know that you’re not going to see me again after tonight—”

“That’s not what I was going to tell you.”

“It isn’t?”

No, his revelation was going to lead to that, though. When she threw him out for being her mortal enemy.

All he could do was shake his head again, and take them across the street—jaywalking, of course, because there was no traffic—so they could go down the last block.

As he surmounted the steps to the glass ring of doors, he felt like something was stabbing him in the chest, and the sensation got so much worse as he lowered her back down onto her own two feet while he leaned forward to get the door for her.

The warmth and light of the lobby should have been a welcome relief, but as they both waved at the security guard behind the front desk and headed for the elevators, the sense that he was sending her off into a world he could never be part of made him long for the darkness and the cold.

When they got to the buttons to summon the lift, he wanted to redirect them both to somewhere, anywhere, just to prolong things. How about another stairwell—

“Oh?” she drawled. “Would you like to walk up fourteen floors?”

If she was willing to unzip his jeans again? He’d go to the top of the fucking building—with a car on his shoulders.

“Sorry, guess I was thinking out loud.” He punched the up button. “Although you’ve turned me on to fire doors. Who knew that was my kink.”

“Safety first.”

“Always—”

Bing!

As the doors opened, he extended his arm to make sure she got in safely, and then followed. He’d had some idea that he was going to leave her off at the glass doors. Then at the elevator. Now it looked like he was going to head all the way up to that apartment—

Lyric took one step and brought their bodies together.

She didn’t say a thing. Her eyes did all the talking.

“I can’t stay,” he said hoarsely. “I… shouldn’t. I know I keep going back and forth, but every time I’m with you, I forget my fucking mind.”

Her disappointment was almost hidden. Almost.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Stroking her hair back, he lingered on her shoulders and imagined what she looked like underneath his windbreaker.

“Lyric, I want to…”

“What,” she prompted.

“I want to be with you tonight, but I have something I need to do first.” When all she did was nod, he felt the distance of everything he wasn’t telling her. “Here’s the thing. I want to take care of you, I want to do the right thing.”

The tension in her eased a little. “You do?”

“I do.”

There was a bump and the doors opened. Extending his arm again to hold things back, he made sure she cleared the threshold before stepping out himself, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to put his arm around her and escort her down the hall.

When they got to her apartment, she took out a copper key and slipped it into the dead bolt. As she unlocked things, he liked that she didn’t beg him to come in or try to seduce him into staying. Not his Lyric. She was above all that.

As she stepped through and turned around, he recognized the shadows in her beautiful eyes, and even though there were so many reasons to keep his mouth shut short of a goodbye, he wanted to ease her. Even though he couldn’t.

“Don’t think so much,” he said quietly. “Bad for the soul.”

“I’m not sure the great philosophers would agree with you.”

“They’re all dead. So what do they know.” He dropped a kiss to her mouth. “Thank you for tonight. And no, I don’t want to end us here. I keep trying to, but… the idea of never seeing you again feels all wrong.”

Her hands drifted up to the pads of his chest. “It’s the same for me.”

His eyes roamed around her face and then he brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “You shouldn’t worry… over what you’re concerned about.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice advice to take.”

As Lyric gave him a rueful look, he kissed her one more time and then eased back. “See you tomorrow night?”

“Yes,” she said.

“It’s a date, then.”

He forced himself to turn away, and as he started to stride off, she called out, “What do you think I’m worried about?”

Dev paused at the elevators. As he looked down the hall at her, he knew in his gut he was going to remember the image of her standing in that doorway, her thigh-high boots all sex-symbol, his windbreaker more this-is-my-boyfriend’s.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Bing! As the doors parted for him, she said, “Wait! Your windbreaker!”

“Keep it,” he tossed back as he got in and punched the L button.

Lyric ran down the hall after Dev, but she didn’t make it in time. The elevator closed and sealed up just as she skidded to a halt. She didn’t even manage to catch one last glimpse of him.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she glanced at the hem of his jacket. Then she walked back to the apartment and shut herself in. As she leaned against the door, she had the eerie sense that he knew what she was, and had been trying to indirectly reassure her.

But she’d been so careful about not flashing her fangs, and it wasn’t like he’d ever suggested they meet up during the day—something she was never going to be able to do. Even that lesser fight had been too distant for him to see anything that might be a tip-off something paranormal was going on.

And most humans had no clue vampires lived in their midst.

“I don’t know,” she muttered.

As she went down to the bedroom, there was a marked disappointment that he wasn’t with her, that there were no naked things happening on the soft mattress—not that they would have made it all the way down here.

God, she wanted him so badly.

In the bathroom, she took her phone out of the back pocket of her tight pants and called up a text screen. When she was done sending the message to her brother, she extricated herself out of the thigh-high boots with care and did the same for the leather top.

It was like peeling a frickin’ grape.

She made sure the shower was long, and very hot.

When she finally stepped out, she checked her phone and saw what Rhamp had sent back.

“Figures,” she muttered. At least he hadn’t bumped her.