If he wanted to snipe, she could snipe right back. 'Given your pinched-up look and the way Mort dodged the topic, it's pretty obvious that if I don't watch the hookers on occasion, I'm not going to learn much.'

He turned coldly austere. 'Anything you need to know, you can't learn from them.'

'Can't learn it from you either, apparently.' She sat up and brushed dried grass and dirt from her hair. Luther hadn't moved that far away, but she now felt a definite distance between them that hadn't been there a few moments ago. 'I'm so dangerous, you're suddenly afraid of me?'

Luther pulled up one knee and crossed his arms over it. 'Truth is, Gaby, I'm more afraid for you than of you. You're the strangest girl I've ever met. At times, there's this awful vulnerability about you that makes me damn near want to cry. Then you make me so hot that I can't breathe. Then you calmly tell me, a detective, that you played vigilante and stabbed someone.'

Hurt, Gaby pushed to her feet. 'I guess you would rather I hadn't helped her.' Why had she hoped that, like Mort, he'd be impressed?

Stupid.

Mort was sad and lonely. Luther Cross was a shining advocate who likely had an abundance of close friends and family backing him.

He stood too, and though he was only three inches taller, he seemed much bigger in every way. One shaky hand reached out to cup her face. 'I'd rather you didn't put yourself in danger.'

Yeah, she'd rather that, too. But more often than not, she had no choice. 'Sorry.'

His mouth lifted. 'Now that sounded sincere.' His thumb brushed her cheek. He dropped his hand from her face to lace his fingers with hers. 'Come here.'

'Where are we going?'

'Someplace more private.' He started walking, his pace urgent, towing her along. 'Someplace where I can explain a few things to you.'

'Like?'

'Oral sex. The difference between what hookers do and what I'd like to do with you.'

'Me? And you?' Her heart started that odd staccato thumping again. 'Forget about it. I already told you that I can't—'

'I know. One of these days, you'll tell me why. But I would never force you, Gaby.'

Obnoxious jerk. 'I wouldn't let you.'

'I'd never even try.'

He towed her into a smelly alley and backed her up against a damp brick wall. Her thin T-shirt did nothing to protect her shoulders from the rough face of the broken bricks.

But Gaby didn't care.

'Hookers do what they do for money, without emotion and without experiencing a single pleasure. Not because they want to, but because they have a habit to feed, or an empty stomach, or an insistent pimp.'

As if he'd been running, Luther breathed hard and fast. His fingers caught her wrists and raised her hands to his shoulders. 'Because they consent, it's different from actual rape, and from what you say you saw last night. But in my view, not by a whole lot. Any man who uses a woman, who takes advantage of her desperation, isn't much of a man.'

'It looked ugly,' Gaby agreed, glad to have some real light shed on it all. 'Like evil.'

'And to you, evil, like cancer, is a live entity?'

She hated to tell him, but… 'It is, Luther. Very alive.'

He didn't laugh at her, didn't argue or try to dissuade her. 'Rape is both ugly and evil.' He looked at her mouth. 'But when two people are willing, anything goes, and what might look unpleasant otherwise becomes… very nice.'

'You'll understand if I have my doubts.' But that wasn't entirely true. With Luther, she could imagine most things would be nice. Even being pinned against a dirty brick wall.

'Now, Gaby, I'm going to kiss you, and I want you to open your mouth for me.'

'Why?'

'Consider it an exercise in oral sex, why it's pleasurable and why men and women do it.'

Her skin went all tingly. And deeper down, inside herself. 'Yeah, okay.'

'Wait.' He touched her lips. 'Promise you won't bite me.'

Bite him?

'Just promise me, Gaby. Your reactions are not all that trustworthy and I don't want to lose my tongue.'

His tongue. The tingling turned to a warm energy filling her whole body. 'I won't bite you.'

The second the words left her, his mouth covered hers. When his tongue touched her lips, Gaby remembered to part them. He dipped in, just a little, and the slick feel of his tongue, the taste of him, did crazy things to her.

She liked it. A lot.

Her hands clenched on his shoulders.

Continuing to tease her, he licked his tongue over her lips, her tongue, her teeth.

Deeper.

They were both breathing hard when he drew back and whispered, 'Now, when I put my tongue in your mouth, I want you to suck on it.'

Wow. Gaby nodded, and gladly accepted his tongue back. As instructed, she sucked—and it was wildly exciting. For both of them.

Who knew?

The kissing grew hotter, deeper. Both of Luther's hands held her face. He pulled back yet again. Eyes dark and hot, he stared at her, studied her.

Oh no. Did she look different again? Had she changed, as both he and Mort claimed she did?

The panic had just started when, voice rough, Luther instructed, 'Don't think, Gaby. Give me your tongue. I'm going to suck on it so you can see how it feels.'

At his instruction, worrisome thoughts scattered.

She didn't need any more encouragement than that. Gaby plastered herself to him and mimicked what he'd done to her.

Luther moved closer so that his whole body pressed hers. But, oddly, he didn't touch her with his hands. He kept them flattened on the brick wall at either side of her head.

He freed his mouth with a groan. 'Gaby?' He kissed her chin, her jaw. 'I'm sorry, but we have to stop or I'm going to lose it.'

For one of the few times in her life, she couldn't think of a single smart retort.

'Here's the thing.' Putting his cheek to hers, he whispered directly into her ear. 'As good as that feels to us both, it's so much better when it's not just a tongue you're sucking on.'

Oral sex. Images worked through her mind, vivid and sensual, making her acutely aware of Luther's body against hers. 'You're hard.'

'I keep imagining your mouth on me, and hell yeah, I'm hard.'

She could see why. The idea excited her, too. 'As long as you're being so talkative and honest, I have another question.'

'God help me.'

Because she had to know. Gaby asked with tentative uncertainty, 'Do I look different right now?'

Luther kissed the bridge of her nose, her forehead, her chin. 'You look sexy. Turned on. But also a little afraid.' His warm smile took the insult from the words. 'All reasonable reactions from a virgin.'

'But I don't look… weird?'

He smoothed back her hair—and measured his words. 'I'll admit that you change so much, I can't keep up. And yes, you look different from how you normally look.' The smile evaporated, replaced by concern and reassurance. 'But never would I use the word weird. Just different, Gaby.'

Shit. Ashamed, she turned her face away, and Luther brought it back around.

'Your features are sharper, more defined. Stronger. But you're still you, Gaby. No doubt about it. And I like you. A lot. So whatever affliction alters your appearance, please don't let it add to your sadness.'

Вы читаете The Awakening
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