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"Nikki?"
She opened her eyes, studying Michael for a heartbeat. He sat on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes full of compassion and a certain amount of wariness.
"Hold me,” she whispered, pushing the blankets aside and struggling upright. “Please, just hold me." He drew her into his arms. She leaned a cheek against the bare warmth of his chest, allowing the heat of his touch to chase the chill away. Allowed the tender caress of his thoughts to chase the last strands of darkness from her mind.
"You have to fight him, Nikki."
"How?” Her voice cracked slightly, and she bit her lip. But how could she fight Jasper when she'd never been able to fight Tommy? Jasper's evil was far more intense than Tommy's ever had been. But she'd survived Tommy, and she'd survived three nights of Jasper's insanity. She'd survive this—any way she could.
Michael held her silently, the rock to which she clung in the ever-turbulent currents of her life. Gradually, almost unwillingly, she became aware of his scent, musky yet fresh; aware of the slight tension in the arms that held her so gently. She could hear his heart pounding as erratically as her own. She lifted her head and met his gaze. His smile made her heart do an odd little somersault. He gently touched her cheek, then ran his fingers down to her lips. “Not making love to you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do."
Her pulse leapt beneath his touch. She kissed his fingers, then reached up and traced the firm line of his jaw. “I don't want your restraint, Michael. I want you."
Just touch me. Hold me. Love me. She bit her lip and looked away from the understanding in his eyes. What she was doing wasn't fair, but there wasn't any other way to drive Jasper from her thoughts. Was it too much to ask for just an hour, maybe two, of Jasper's darkness not staining her thoughts?
He sighed and closed his eyes. Fighting the needs of his body, she thought. It was a battle she didn't want him to win.
Leaning forward, she captured his lips with her own. He groaned and tightened his arms around her, his lips suddenly harsh against hers.
Then he pulled away. “Don't do this, Nikki.” His voice was ragged, dark eyes troubled.
"Why not?” What was wrong with wanting to kiss him, make love to him, until the darkness ran away and there was nothing but the two of them alone?
Couldn't he see she needed this, needed to keep the darkness and insanity at bay?
"Nikki, it's wrong."
She raised an eyebrow. “Why is it wrong?"
He didn't answer. She moved closer and trailed tiny kisses around his neck, then gently bit his earlobe. He made no move to stop her, no move to encourage her, yet she could feel the tension under her fingers and wondered what he was so afraid of. Vampires might not be able to love, but they could make love, and that was all she was asking of him.
She ran her hand down the warm length of his body until she touched the waistband of his pants. Fingers trembling, she slowly undid his fly.
"Nikki—” he hesitated, his body tensing when she touched him. “The timing is wrong." She closed her eyes and briefly rested her forehead against his shoulder. He was right. This was neither the time nor the place for them to make love. But what other choice did she have? She had to stop the stain of Jasper's darkness growing stronger in her mind.
"Please, Michael. Just love me."
He groaned again and crushed her to him. She kissed him fiercely, savoring the taste of his lips, his mouth. He caressed her breast, her stomach, her buttocks, his hands gentle yet his touch urgent, setting her aflame with need. She reveled in the play of muscles across his shoulders, the feel of his skin, so smooth and warm against hers.
"Lay down with me,” she said softly.
Michael smiled and stretched out beside her. He ran a hand down the gentle curve of her side, watching the desire darken her amber eyes. Yet he could feel the desperation in her thoughts, the urgent need to deny Jasper's growing control over her. He touched her cheek, following the outline of her jaw down to her mouth. Her skin was soft and smelled so good, like honey and cinnamon. She captured his finger in her mouth and sucked on it gently. Heat ran through him, through the link, a smoldering fire threatening to explode.
God, there was no denying his desire for her.
"I cannot offer you anything more than this moment, Nikki.” Not the words he should have said, by any stretch of the imagination. He might have been a three-hundred-year-old vampire, but in some ways, he was still very human. Something he could not deny with her so close. Her dark amber gaze met his, and he knew that she wanted nothing more than this moment, that all she cared about was time without Jasper's intrusion in her thoughts. It hurt somehow, though God knew it shouldn't have. She was only using him in the same manner he'd used a score of other woman during his life.
At least he would have the memory of loving her in the long nights of loneliness left ahead.
"Good.” Though her voice was light, there was an edge that made him wonder if she'd heard his thoughts. “If you had stopped right now, I would've killed you." He touched her lips, then ran his finger lightly down her neck to her breast. “The only thing likely to stop me now is a change of heart from you."
"Then stop talking,” she murmured.
Power shivered between them, a gossamer touch that tugged his jeans slowly from his body. He laughed against her lips, then pulled away slightly. Using his own kinetic abilities, he eased the shirt up and over her head, then tossed it across the room.
"Now I know what the romance books mean when they say he undressed her with his mind." Though her smile was easy, fear flickered deep in her eyes. He kissed her, savoring the sweetness of her lips as he drew her close. Their minds entwined in a gentle dance of fire, sharing each sensation, each emotion.
The chains of the link between them were drawing tighter, but right then, he didn't care. He had this moment, and he had Nikki in his arms. That was a damn sight more than he'd had in a very long time.
