“Something?” he growled.
“Anything.”
“Like what? Help … me.”
With pleasure. She grabbed his hips and pulled. He fell forward as she fell the rest of the way back. He managed to catch himself before their bodies aligned, straddling her waist, glaring down at her. He was harder than before, his erection straining the fly of his pants.
Moisture pooled between her legs, making her desperate for his touch, his tongue. Something, anything. Little aches arced through her bloodstream, razing her cells, making them clamor for contact, too. She drew two fingers down the buttons of his shirt, popping them and causing the material to gape open.
“Noelle,” he rasped, bracing his arms as if he meant to push away. “I remember when you told me that you’d called dibs on Dallas.”
Bothered by the idea? God, she hoped so. “First, I might have called dibs, but I never actually wanted him. Second, I do want to sleep with you.” More than I’ve ever wanted anything. “But you have to give me something, Hector. Please. Info or another kiss. Gentleman’s choice.”
She traced her fingers along the ridges of his stomach, then circled his ni**les. He sucked in a breath—but didn’t tell her to stop.
He leaned down, nipped at her lower lip. God, she loved when he did that.
“To save you,” he said. “There. That’s an answer, a bit of the information you demanded. I stopped kissing you to save you.”
Just a nip, but she tasted him. Sweet, minty, drugging. She let her fingers fall … fall … and cup his erection, rubbing up and down, and sweet merciful heaven. He was the stuff of fantasies. “From?”
Growls began to erupt from his throat. His hips moved with her hand, jerky thrusts that deepened the contact.
“You picked information. You can’t stop there,” she said. “Trust me. I won’t betray you, and I’ll even share a secret about myself.”
He stilled. A moment passed while he caught his breath. “If I don’t?”
“I’ll think you decided to give me a kiss instead. I’ll keep throwing myself at you. I’ll even up my game. And if you think I was shameless before, get ready. Flashing? Old news. Innuendos? Nothing. I’ll show up on your doorstep naked, and that’ll just be the appetizer.”
Bargaining?
Well, she knew how to buy and how to take. With Ava, she knew how to give. Time, affection, anything and everything, because Ava gave so freely to her. But this thing with Hector was uncharted territory. What she wanted couldn’t be bought or taken. And she found that she didn’t want him that way, anyway. She craved his willingness.
“I can’t tell you. Not in a way you’ll believe. I’ll have to show you,” he said, his timbre guttural, gravelly.
Triumphant heat shimmered through her.
Quickly, as if he feared talking himself out of his actions, he removed his shirt the rest of the way, then extended his arms above her. He was still without gloves, and she could see that the strange light glowed from his shoulders to fingertips. Brighter and brighter, until she could no longer see his skin. Or his muscles and bones. Just particles, floating in the air, like a thousand little sparks that conformed to the same shape as his limbs. A morbidly beautiful, hauntingly lovely sight.
She’d known he sometimes glowed, but hadn’t figured out why or how and never would have guessed this. Dazed, she reached out to touch. He jerked both arms higher in the air, preventing contact. The glow faded … disappeared, his skin returning to its natural burnished tan, though some of his tattoos were now gone. Both arms fell to his sides.
Sweat beaded on his brow, and the mix of emotion in his eyes startled her. She saw fear, anger, hope, and grim expectation.
“Don’t ever touch me when I’m like that,” he said hoarsely. “I could burn you, scar you. I could punch through your body and rip out your heart in less than a second.”
“Hector, I—” Didn’t know what to say. She’d never seen anything like that. Never heard of anything like that. Not among humans, and not among the alien races.
The grim expectation won the fight for dominance and now painted each of his features. “Do you understand why I can’t let myself have you? I can force my arms to atomize, yes, but sometimes, most times, they atomize on their own.”
She gulped, experienced a wave of fear. Atomizing unbidden. Like the times they’d kissed, when he’d burned through metal.
At the time, she’d been in tremendous danger, just as he’d said, but she hadn’t even suspected. He had, though. He had known and he had feared, and that’s why he’d left her.
What would have happened if he’d accidentally touched her, even in the slightest way? She wouldn’t have felt the pain, might have even prolonged the contact, and she would have been severely injured. “When does it happen on its own?” she asked softly. “Why?”
“When I’m aroused. When I’m frustrated. When I’m pissed.”
“And you’ve hurt people before?” she asked, gentle now, so gentle. “Unintentionally?”
A hard nod as he leaned his weight into her and carefully, oh, so carefully, braced his hands beside her temples. Close, though not daring to brush against her. “I won’t lie to you. A few times, I did it on purpose.”
She wondered who he’d harmed—killed?—and why, but she wouldn’t ask. Not yet. She didn’t want such lethal memories to intrude on this moment. He was finally opening up, sharing, giving her a chance to prove herself worthy of his trust. So push for too much too soon? No.
Her mind caught on three little words. Prove herself worthy. This time, though, she was glad to do so. This was difficult for him, a huge step. She owed him the best she had to give.
“Why are your arms like that?” she asked. “Do you know?”
Some of the stiffness melted from his shoulders. “I was born that way, I guess. First time I remember hurting someone with them, I was eight.”
Eight. So young. So sweet and innocent. “I’m sorry.” The price tag on such a lethal ability must be unbearable, and yet he soldiered on. The mental and emotional strength he must possess …
She thought back. She’d never seen him touch anyone casually. Sometimes he handled suspects, but never for long. For the most part, he kept to himself. Perhaps he was as lonely as she often was.
He nodded to acknowledge he’d heard her. “I … care about you, Noelle. I don’t like the thought of you in pain.”