Phoenix Rising I (15 page)

“Gimme a break,” Lorie muttered with a grin. She leaned over and kissed Summer on the forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay. And on that note, it’s time I left you to your fate, or should I say, Lieutenant Fate.”

Humming under her breath, she left the room. Odd words coming from Lorie, but then, everything was starting to seem odd.

Drake entered wearing civvies, a pair of denims that hugged his magnificent legs and cupped his ass just so. Summer sighed when he stood close, his ass out of sight. Of course, that put her within sigh of his massive--

“Michaels?” Drake frowned and leaned closer to look into her eyes.

“Call me Summer.” She laughed.

He frowned, and his concern seemed to vanish under a cloud of hostility. “Seems like you’ve said that before. Now Summer, how do you feel?”

“I feel just fine. Really, really good.”

“Well, that’s great.” He hooked his hands in his pockets, his jeans molding the flesh she wanted to hold in her hands, that is, if she could keep her eyes open. “The doctor says you can be released as early as tomorrow. You just need someone to watch over you for a few days.”

He grinned through his teeth, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. His smile alarmed her, even in her near-sleep. “Lucky for me, I’ve got a ton of vacation time. And just enough to settle you in.” * * * *

Drake watched Summer walk warily through his front door. She held the suitcase her partner had packed for her in a death grip, refusing to let him carry it. For the next two weeks, he and she had nowhere to go. He couldn’t care less that the squad was buzzing with rumors about what had really happened the night Summer had been shot, and why he had taken time off when he was due a commendation.

His people deserved the award, not him. No, what he deserved Detective Summer Michaels was going to give him, whatever and whenever he asked for it. He just needed a few days to make sure she was healing all right and to give her as much anxiety as he’d felt the last week.

He still couldn’t believe what they’d shared, and that she’d made him forget it. The visions of their lovemaking, coupled with his strange energy spikes, had him seeking advice from the one person he knew would be able to help him. While Summer had been recuperating in the hospital, Drake had finished tying up loose ends on the case and begun his well-earned time off early. A visit to Aunt Viv had answered his questions and stirred a range of emotions he was still trying to control.

Aunt Viv had defended Summer, actually defended the woman who’d taken him to heaven, then let him forget all about it. Hell, their last few days together she’d forced him to forget.

“If she’s young, she might not know exactly how to control it,” Viv had said. “I didn’t learn until I hunted down my biological mother, you know. Being able to do what we do isn’t exactly normal, even psychic phenomena seems much more accepted now.”

“Aunt Viv,” he’d growled. He hated when she digressed, going off on one of her academic, life meets reality rants. She was the most powerful psychic he knew, the one whom he supposedly took after. It only stood to reason she’d understand more about Summer than he did.

“Oh, all right, Drake. Being a succubus isn’t easy. Just saying the word makes people think of female demons with big boobs who like to rape men.”

“Succubus?” He’d stared, stunned yet fascinated.

“Well? What did you think Summer was? A horny psychic?” She laughed, loud sweeping gales that had his uncle peeking his head in the study. “Go away, Henry. I’m still schooling Drake.”

“But that’s not possible.”

“Oh? And sharing another’s emotions is? Talking without physically moving your mouth, that’s possible? Hell, teleporting? Do you remember what you do for a living, nephew?”

Drake shook his head and came back to the present, his aunt’s words ringing as he watched Summer walk hesitantly toward the couch. Her ribs had been wrapped tight. The bullet had passed through her flesh, thankfully injuring only surface tissue. But when she’d fallen, she'd slammed not only her head, but her side, as well, bruising two ribs and her skull.

“So Summer,” he said, "welcome to my home.” He walked toward her, aware of the stiffness of her posture when he stopped directly behind her. Reaching for the bag she held tightly, he eased it away and took it to his bedroom. When he returned, she stood where he’d left her, her gaze centered on him alone.

“Why,” she paused to swallow, “why am I here?”

He grew somber and she flushed, looking incredibly seductive while she wallowed in guilt. “Because you’re one of my detectives. I feel responsible for you.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.

Drake knew it wasn’t fair of him to push her this way, but he was still furious the little liar thought to rob him of his memories, of the delights they’d shared. And it was more than physical. Despite bringing him to orgasm time and time again, she’d released more than his physical needs. She’d captured his heart, as well.

Since visiting her at the hospital several times, he’d made no mention of what he’d seen in her mind at Godzi’s. Instead, he hoarded the memories, determined to relive them when the time was right. The past two nights had been hell, but worth it knowing he’d soon have Summer again. Back in his bed, back in his life.

“So, ah, okay.” She seemed nervous. Good.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I only have one bedroom.” And a study with a fold-out bed he had no intention of using.

“I thought I’d sleep out here.” She gestured to his couch, a sleek yet comfortable resting place where he often fell asleep while watching television.

“That thing?” He shook his head. “Not very comfortable for sleeping. But not a bad place to sit.” He hustled her into a nearby chair, careful of her injuries. Surprisingly, she looked none the worse for wear. The large t-shirt she wore hid her bandaged ribs, and despite the slight crease above her left brow, she looked amazingly in good health.

The energy we take from our partners, especially from one during a Calling, revitalizes both our minds and bodies. Amazing what sex can do for you, eh Drake? his aunt had chuckled.

A Calling. His memories now clear as a bell, he recalled his and Summer’s initial discussion about his touch telepathy, and how excited, and aroused, she’d become when he’d talked about accepting his abilities, which she’d presumed to mean accepting a Calling.

“Calling.”

She flinched and stared at him, almost in horror. “What did you say?” she squeaked.

“I said I need to be calling your partner to let her know you’re okay. Of course, you could always stay with your grandmother since your father’s out of town.”

She grimaced. “No, Aabuela worries too much.”

He nodded, hiding a grin. Summer spoke in Spanish when she talked about her beloved family, or when she was really emotional about something. Amazing how much he had noticed about her in the short time she’d been working for Spec. He knew she liked her coffee with milk and a lot of sugar, that she was someone his people respected, a woman who did what she said and never asked anyone to do what she wasn’t willing to do herself.

Summer didn’t trade on her looks either, which made her almost a rarity in this day and age. She kept her personal life private, her career strictly professional. And the idiots who’d dared ask her out had been rejected nicely and privately.

“Ah, Lieutenant?”

He started, realizing he’d been caught staring. “Don’t you think you can call me Drake? And maybe I can call you Summer?”

She nodded, color rising in her cheeks. Call me Summer, she’d said, before making sultry, sexy love to him. God, he couldn’t believe she’d tried to take that away from him.

His eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you get some rest? I have some grocery shopping to do.”

“But why are you doing this?” she blurted. “It’s your time off.”

He shrugged. “It is. I admit I feel somewhat guilty about what happened to you.” And he did. He should have protected the extraction point. He’d just never thought anyone might escape their trap so quickly, or get that far before being caught. “Don’t worry about it, Summer. And relax. I have no intention of sullying your virtue.” Instead of looking relieved, she seemed depressed. He wanted to laugh out loud. “I’m married to the job, remember?” Twist the knife, why don’t I? “Besides, it wouldn’t look good if anyone thought I was involved with you. Could jeopardize our careers. That’s why Tannon’s saying you’re staying with her.” Careers, hell. He’d already found a way to make things work.

“Great, thanks Drake,” she said flatly, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. “Why don’t I take a nap?” She rose slowly to her feet with his help. “I’ll be out of your hair in a few days.”

He grinned widely and rubbed her shoulder, feeling the heat reach all the way to his groin and wrap around his balls. “That’s the spirit. Just pretend you’re at home and I’m just a friend. You won’t even know I’m around.”

* * * *

Was he out of his freakin’ mind? she wondered as she lay in his bed. She couldn’t breathe without thinking of Drake Nichols. Everything smelled like him, like leather and spice and pure, sexual man.

For two days now he’d been the soul of courtesy while she fought every urge in her body not to jump him and ride him through the coming dawn. It didn’t help she’d walked in on him dressing, twice, or that he’d left the door open a crack in his bathroom while taking a shower. She’d caught a glimpse of his long, lean legs and that luscious, broad chest before he’d quietly closed the door, and immediately she’d recalled the first time she’d seen him in the shower ….

She closed her eyes and cursed.

“Damn, sorry I woke you.”

She opened her eyes and stared at Drake clad in nothing but a pair of boxer/briefs. God, please just kill me now.

“I wanted to grab my clothes for tomorrow, so when I wake early for a run I won’t disturb you.”

His muscles gleamed in the moonlight streaming through his window. Dark curly hair like silk covered his chest, tapering over a taut abdomen and down, further down, into a nest surrounding that long, thick penis that even his underwear couldn’t stop her from imagining.

Her mouth watered and she tried to glance up, but the longer she looked, the longer he grew. She licked her lips, aware she couldn’t leap on him or he’d know how fine she really felt. The energy he’d given her previously had strengthened her to the point her ribs barely ached, and the gash on her forehead might never have been there at all.

His penis twitched, tempting her to walk over there and wrap her hands around him, ever so slowly. She’d drop to her knees and suck the crown, lovingly licking at his slit that was wet, moist with his need.

“Ah, Summer?”

She blinked and focused on his face, on the eyes shining like silver.

“I hate to say this, but I’m an empath.” He shifted his weight, thrusting his erection further toward her. “And the waves you’re emitting are what’s causing, ah, my reaction here.” He paused. “Sorry if I’ve offended you.”

She bit her lip in utter mortification. Damn, her hormones were seriously making her look like a horny, desperate woman. How much plainer could Drake be that he was only hard because she was hungry?

Sighing, she turned away toward the wall. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It’s just hard … I mean, it’s difficult to be here at your place and not want,” she paused, knowing she was making the situation worse.

“What’s wrong, Summer?” He walked around the bed so that he faced her, putting his crotch at a level with her eyes.

Oh, God, he was wet. She could see a patch of dampness on his boxer/briefs, his penis straining against the confining fabric. Her womb flooded with want, and she had to curl her hands by her sides not to grab at him.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. To twenty. Then he leaned closer, squatting down so that his wide, sensual mouth was just a breath away. He put his hand on her bare thigh and stroked.

“I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you,” he said quietly. “I just wanted to sneak in and out, so you wouldn’t know a thing.”

His voice sounded odd, flat, and she glanced up, only to see his mesmerizing gaze so full of concern.

She licked her lips and unconsciously leaned closer, knowing she could tempt him into making the first move. Oh, it was so wrong. But she loved him so much, and he’d never remember later …

He whipped his head back and stood up before she could say anything more. “I, ah, think I should leave. I shouldn’t be in here. Sorry.”

He jumped, actually teleported from his room rather than stay near her a minute more than he had to, and she wondered, was any of it real? Had he ever hungered for me, or has it all been in my sick little mind, in the tormented thoughts of a demon?

Chapter Eight

Drake literally shook, so close to coming he was surprised his underwear wasn’t covered in cum. He leaned against the wall outside his bedroom and breathed deeply, trying to will his cock into submission. But he was so far gone. He reached into his underwear and then drew his hand back as if slapped.

Why the hell was he out here suffering, when the deceitful witch, oh sorry, succubus, he loved was in there, resting peacefully?

Gritting his teeth, he decided this foolishness had come to an end. He’d made her pay, he knew. For the past two days, she’d been wallowing in misery, mooning at him with those large doe eyes whenever she’d happen to catch him half-naked. And it hadn’t been easy coming up with so many excuses for missing his clothes.

The past two nights he’d brought himself a small measure of relief with his hand, but it just wasn’t enough. And now that he knew the faker was better-hello, she’d rolled to her side without a twitch--he planned on taking what should have been his from day one.

Striding back into the bedroom, uncaring of his obvious erection, he walked to the side of the room she faced and whipped off his underwear.

Her breath hissed as he lowered himself to the bed, but before he could demand his rights, Summer rolled him to his back and kissed him so deeply he saw stars.