Elemental Assassin 01 - Spider's Bite

could look out into the nightclub. I propped my chin on my elbow and studied him. Black hair, golden eyes, lean body. Not a particularly handsome man, in the classical sense, but it all added up to a rough, rugged package I found exceptionally appealing.
    Donovan Caine might hate me, hate what I did, hate the ease with which I could kill. But the detective was attracted to me too. Wanted me like I wanted him. I’d seen it in his eyes that first night on the balcony at the opera house. Again in the Cake Walk. Earlier this evening when I’d been eating my yogurt. I glanced at my watch. Not even ten. We probably had a while to wait before Charles Carlyle made an appearance. And I had lots of ideas of how we could pass the time.
    The bartender set our drinks in front of us. I slid a fifty across the icy bar to him. Caine tossed back his Scotch. I did the same to my gin. The cold liquor burned going down my throat, somehow transforming itself into sweet, comforting warmth when it hit my stomach.
    I pushed my empty glass back across the bar and turned my attention to the detective. My gray eyes drank in the crook in his nose, the curve of his chin, the steady twitch of his pulse in his throat. Donovan felt my gaze, saw the hunger shimmering there. An answering heat sparked in his golden gaze, even as he tried to smother it.
    “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
    I tilted my head and smiled. “I think you know.”
    “No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”
    My smile widened. “Why don’t I show you instead?”
    I leaned over, caught his face in my hands, and pressed my lips to his.
    Not the sweetest or most romantic of kisses, but I enjoyed the sensation of the detective’s lips on mine, even if he didn’t. He tasted of the Scotch he’d just downed—hot, spicy, sweet, and salty all at the same time. His aroma filled my nose. Clean, like soap. It clung to him, as though embedded in his skin. Mmm.
    I flicked my tongue against his lips. Caine stiffened. He didn’t pull away, but he kept his mouth closed and his tongue inside. A shame, really.
    “Come on, detective,” I murmured against his tight lips. “Everybody else here is doing it. Why shouldn’t we?”
    “Do I really have to list the reasons?” he growled.
    “No,” I replied. “But I have just as many why we should. This is one of them.”
    I slid over onto his lap. Even though I’d given him no warning and very little to turn him on, Donovan’s erection pressed into my ass, solid and straining. I kissed him again, lightly pressing my lips to his, then shifted my legs so I was straddling him. I rocked forward, then retreated, rubbing against his body, pressing my breasts to his chest, exploring this attraction that simmered between us. Mmm.
    Donovan’s hands clenched into fists on either side of me. All he could do to keep from touching me.
    “Come on, detective,” I murmured. “You want me, too. I’m sitting on ample proof of that. After this is over, we’ll go our separate ways. I’ve almost been killed too many times to count this week. So have you. Why shouldn’t we work off some of that stress and have a little fun in the meantime?”
    Donovan stared at me. Desire warmed his eyes, making them shine like twin suns. Still, he hesitated. I shifted my hips again, urging him on. The slight friction pushed him over the edge. The detective let out a low growl, wound his hand in my hair, and pulled my lips down to his.
    There were no closed mouths this time. No light touches or hesitation. Our tongues thrashed against each other, driving deeper and deeper into each other’s mouth. I splayed my hands on his chest, kneading his lean muscles, marveling at his coiled strength. He pulled me closer. His hands moved up to my breasts. I scraped my nails down his stomach. We both rocked, teasing the other with what we each had to offer.
    After ten seconds, I was wet. After thirty, I ached for him. By the minute mark, I was ready to rip his jeans off and pull him down under the bar with me. But I wanted to be alone with Donovan Caine, wanted to forget about everything but him and how he made me feel.
    “They have rooms upstairs,” I whispered against his mouth.
    More emotions flashed in his eyes. Desire. Guilt. Hesitation. Need.
    Slowly, he nodded.
    I grinned and leaned forward to kiss him again when I felt an odd, pulsing buzz on my leg. It took me a few seconds to figure out what it was.
    My cell phone vibrating. 

20
    Finn was