Part 4 (1/2)

He glanced down at his c.o.c.k, a look of disgust twisting his mouth. ”You may not want me the way I want you to, but I won't refuse what you offer.”

Regret tore at her heart. ”I'm sorry, Joe.”

”For f.u.c.k's sake. Don't apologize.” He shook his head. ”I'll really feel pathetic.”

”You don't look pathetic from where I'm lying. And this isn't a pity f.u.c.k. We're friends. I love you.”

”Don't look at me that way. I was just...surprised. When I heard you in there...with him...I thought he'd forced you.”

Darcy drew a calming breath. ”Well, he didn't.”

Joe's eyes closed briefly. ”Why a vampire? We kill them. Was it his c.o.c.k? Did his size fascinate you?”

”It wasn't...just that. I wanted him. He makes me insanely angry, but at the same time, I've never been so...turned on by a man.”

”And now? You want me?”

Darcy blinked. Stated baldly, she sounded like a wh.o.r.e. She stroked his skin. ”Yes.”

”Will you have him again?”

She shook her head. ”I shouldn't. I know that. But I don't know. He pulls me.”

Joe took a deep breath, and his gaze raked over her body, coming to rest on her open legs. ”You've got a gorgeous c.u.n.t, Da.r.s.e. Especially now-pink and wet.” His hands clasped her knees again, but he pushed them closed.

Darcy's mouth fell open. ”What are you doing?”

”Being a good friend. Get some sleep, Darcy.”

Quentin woke to the rumble of male voices outside Darcy's bedroom door. The SU team had arrived. He stretched and turned to his stomach, rolling his face in her flower-sprigged, pink pillowcase. The sweet scent of her shampoo and natural musk filled his nostrils.

Darcy had been quite a surprise. As surprising as the feminine decor of her bedroom, which contrasted with the Spartan iron bed dominating the center.

Darcy Henry had been delectable.

He'd expected tensile strength and endurance to match his. But her lithe, willowy body had been unexpectedly feminine. Nor had he expected her pa.s.sion-his back still bore the marks where her fingernails had scored his skin.

Just this once. She'd said it with her eyes clouding with desire. Quentin hadn't a doubt in the world she'd be back in his bed before morning-unless her partner put a spanner in the works.

He regretted her humiliation. A super-cop caught with the enemy. That wouldn't go down well with a straight arrow like Joe Garcia. And Quentin hadn't missed the hot look the other man had swept over her naked body.

Well, he could look all he wanted. Quentin wasn't sharing this one. Although, he wouldn't mind if Joe watched. He'd rather enjoy rubbing the other man's nose in his jealousy.

Quentin's stomach growled, and he recognized the aroma of steaks frying on a grill. He rolled out of bed, intent on halting the group from cooking the essence out of a perfectly b.l.o.o.d.y steak.

But there was the problem of a lack of clothing. He refused to contemplate donning the rumpled orange uniform he'd tossed in the corner of her closet. And there wasn't any sign of his bags. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom, knotted it around his waist, and headed for the door.

As soon as he swung the door wide, all heads turned to him.

”Now, that's your color,” the large, beefy man named Max said, biting the side of his lip.

Quentin swept the room with a glare and hitched the pink bath towel higher. He spotted his bags next to the door. As he retrieved one, he heard chuckles follow him. Quentin stalked toward the privacy of the bedroom to change when the door to the kitchen swung outward and Darcy strode into the room.

Her gaze raked over him, and her cheeks flushed.

Joe followed her out, with his arm curved around her waist. By the interested stares from the rest of the team, his gesture wasn't a common occurrence. Joe intended to mark her as off-limits.

Quentin smiled and let go of the towel.

Darcy froze, but her gaze dropped to his c.o.c.k.

Quentin took his time unzipping his bag. He pulled out a cotton s.h.i.+rt and blue jeans and took his time putting them on.

Darcy glanced away and folded her arms over her chest. Her mouth drew into a tight line.

If not for the spots of bright color on her cheeks, Quentin would have thought she'd been unmoved by the sight of his naked body.

”We don't hold with vampires flas.h.i.+ng their privates in our homes,” Max said, his rough-hewn features hardening to stone.

”Since, my privates have been a subject of prior scrutiny by this group, I didn't think you'd mind,” Quentin replied to Max, but his gaze didn't leave Darcy.

Max cleared his throat. ”We're having steak and potatoes before we head out for the night. That artist will be over here shortly to get your description of our perp.”

”Yummy,” Quentin replied.

”The steak or the artist?” Darcy asked, her chin lifting.

”Neither.” His gaze swept over her, telling anyone who looked he'd much rather have her.

Every male back in the room stiffened.

Darcy turned to the door and opened it wide. ”Come choose your steak,” she said between gritted teeth.

Quentin moved to follow, but Joe stepped into his path.

”The lady invited me,” Quentin said.

Joe's gaze narrowed. ”I'm in charge of the fire. I'll be right behind you.”

”Going to make sure I fall on a stake?”

Following Darcy's straight back through the kitchen and into the yard, Quentin knew the two had a bone to chew. His hopes for a rollicking night between the sheets with the lady cop were dwindling.

When the outside door closed behind Joe, Darcy rounded on Quentin. ”I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your s.e.xual innuendos to yourself.”