Pleasure.
It took her two tries to start the bike. They almost fell once, and then she got the motorcycle to a weaving acceleration. They didn’t go fast. It wasn’t a smooth ride, but she managed to get them back to the motel.
A fifty on the counter got them room number seven. Lucky seven. She pushed him inside, flipped the lock, and then started to strip him.
The angel studied the chaos at the feeding room. Humans—so pale and listless. Ready for death.
Good. Death was ready for them.
One touch, and a soul was his. Ready for the afterlife and any judgment that would come.
So many souls … so easy to take.
But, no, Death didn’t get to pick and choose. Death took only the ones on the list.
So he walked past the vamp with the bloody chest, the one that seemed to actually see him. He took the humans who were marked and let the others escape.
The taint of the Fallen hung in the air, mixing with the scent of ash that clung to the floor, to the walls.
The Fallen was discovering his power. A dangerous thing … for those around Keenan. He’d be out of control with the initial rush of power.
The first taste was always the most tempting—and therefore the most dangerous.
Keenan would want more, need more.
Demons weren’t the only ones who became addicted too quickly.
His gaze searched the room. Take another.
They all had their addictions.
He was strong enough to fight his. The Fallen wasn’t.
More death would come.
Her hands were on him, soft, cool hands that stroked—and ripped away his clothes.
“Nicole …” Keenan’s tongue felt thick and swollen in his mouth, but, right then, his whole body felt that way. Courtesy of the fire and her stripping hands.
She tossed his shirt onto the floor. “Kick out of your shoes,” she ordered.
He nearly fell, but he managed to get the shoes off.
Then her hands went for the waist of his jeans. The heat inside flared hotter. The air around them crackled with sparks.
She froze. He saw the pulse racing at the base of her throat. “You in control?” She whispered.
Barely. He nodded.
Her hands brushed against his abdomen. Keenan sucked in a sharp breath. The fire seemed to burn his entire body from the inside out, but the need—that was centered in his throbbing cock. Her fingers were so close, and he wanted her hand on his flesh.
No, he wanted his flesh in her.
She pushed down his jeans. Her tongue swiped over her lips as her gaze dipped. “We, ah …” She stepped back, turned, and hurried toward the bathroom. “We need to get you cooled down.”
He stood there, hands clenching, naked. Hungry, hot, wanting her.
The roar of water filled the room.
“Keenan?”
He kicked out of the jeans that had locked around his ankles. He put one foot in front of the other and forced his body to walk into that bathroom. She stood next to the shower, and water pumped down in a hard stream.
“I—it’s ice cold. It should help you.” Her voice was husky, sexy, and her gaze fell to his cock.
Need.
He wasn’t supposed to need her. He’d never wanted another. Never craved. Never wanted to take.
But he wanted to take her more than he wanted another breath.
He stepped into the shower. Like icy needles, the water pelted his body.
But the heat didn’t fade. The lust didn’t ease away. And he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Water poured over his shoulders, slid down his chest, and he found his hand lifting toward her.
Her own eyes had begun to slowly darken and fade to black. In that stare, he saw the same raw need and lust he felt.
“Nicole …” Forbidden. This wasn’t the way for angels.
But he wasn’t an angel anymore. If he’d already paid the price for his lust, then shouldn’t he take the pleasure that waited for him?
She stepped closer to the shower. Water sprayed on her and dampened her T-shirt. Then her hands lifted. Not to reach for him, but to yank off that T-shirt.
The heat consumed him. Burning hot, so hot from within, and he ached.
His gaze raked her. Sweet flesh. Pale. Smooth. The plain black bra hugged her curving br**sts …
In mere moments, the bra hit the floor. So did her boots, her socks, her jeans … the soft cotton panties.
Steam began to rise in the ice-cold shower—the steam rose from his flesh.
“You have to cool down,” she whispered.
The sight of her naked body wasn’t going to cool him off. Right then, he didn’t think anything could.