Man of Her Dreams by Debra Webb (best smutty novels txt) 📗

an even more haunting glow. The smell of her skin…the softness of it tempted him beyond reason.

He hadn’t made his presence known earlier because he hadn’t wanted to be distracted the way he was now. He’d needed to be on guard while the crowd surrounded her. But now, it was only the two of them. He could relax. Relax and enjoy being near her. There was something so sensual about her innocence, her utter humanness. He’d spent his entire life with those genetically superior—she was genetically superior—and yet she emoted a vulnerability, fragility, a neediness he had never known.

She drew the gauzy black scarf from her hair, allowing it to fall loose. “My disguise,” she said with a laugh and tucked the scarf into her pocket.

The cool breeze stirred her long hair, lifting it, playing with it momentarily and then allowing it to drape over her shoulders and down her back like a cape of shiny silk. Her eyes captured the sparse light from the moon and glowed softly with it. No one else at Center had eyes like hers.

He forced himself to focus on the musical sound of her voice as she related the history behind each headstone. He did so enjoy listening to her talk. It made him feel as if he’d come home…reached some place that he was meant to be. This bond they’d shared as children was damn strong. Stronger than even he’d realized until this moment.

“They’ve filmed movies here,” she was saying. “You’ve probably seen at least one.”

“Probably,” he agreed, smiling to himself.

She glanced up at him and returned his smile. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

He looked past the glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes and read the genuine curiosity. She wanted to understand this connection as well. She felt it, not quite so strongly as him, however.

“It’s difficult not to look at one so beautiful,” he said in all honesty. “I’ll try to resist the temptation.”

She laughed that pleasant sound that made him want to taste her lips to see if they tasted as good as they looked and sounded. Unexpected—everything about her was unexpected.

“If you’re trying to seduce me, Aidan, it’s working a little too well.” She stopped and looked into his eyes. “We just met,” she said carefully. “This is moving a little too fast for me.”

“Then we’ll slow things down.” His gaze dropped to her mouth and it took all the willpower he possessed not to kiss her. Her mouth looked full and soft, the bottom lip heavier, poutier. “You set the pace, Darby Shepard.”

She nodded, her gaze now focused on his lips. She wanted to kiss him as well. He could feel her desire, could feel her heated blood coursing through her veins. She wanted more than just to kiss him.

A new kind of tension quickened inside him. A warning. His head came up and his gaze narrowed as he surveyed the ancient cemetery. He felt another’s presence…felt him watching. He was not so close, but close enough.

“Maybe we can finish this tour another time. It’s late.” He infused the offer with a smile. “I’ll walk you home.”

She nodded, the confusion in her eyes telling him that she’d felt the shift in the atmosphere as well. Felt the presence of the enemy without comprehending the full implications.

She might not have honed her skills as he had over the past sixteen years, but she was undeniably a seer.

When the gates were closed once more, Darby pushed her bike as she walked alongside Aidan. For the third time tonight, she felt someone watching her. Funny she hadn’t sensed Aidan’s presence until he was only a few feet away. Though she supposed it could have been him she felt watching her as she closed up after the tour, she didn’t think so. Some part of her recognized him on a very basic level. The other presence had been unfamiliar…unsettling…like the one she was picking up on right now.

With Aidan at her side, she wasn’t actually afraid. She felt secure with him. Still, she didn’t like this feeling of being watched. She wondered somewhere in the back of her mind if the police had someone watching her. Maybe she would call Detective Willis and ask that very question.

As they left the cemetery behind, the din of Friday night revelers in the distance grew louder. Jazz moaned woefully from a club just one street over. A few blocks away, strip bars and clubs hosting costume parties would be in full swing. The crowd on the sidewalk and in the streets grew thicker and rowdier. This was part of what she loved about New Orleans. It was a city full of life. Even the dead seemed to generate some sort of energy.

She suddenly realized that she hadn’t even thought of Lester. The images she’d kept seeing were gone. Maybe it was over. Though she felt terrible for the parents of those children whose bodies were still missing, at least their killer was behind bars and would be punished for his terrible sins.

His reign of terror was over. She’d helped to end it. The price had been high, but she would do it again if only to save a single child.

When they reached the gate to the courtyard of the place she currently called home, Aidan used his keycard and opened it for her. He’d offered to push her bike but she preferred to do it herself. It gave her something to do with her hands, rather than the carnal thoughts her mind had conjured. She kept wondering what it would be like to run her fingers through his hair or to touch his chest. Or those mile wide shoulders.

She sighed. The man was simply every woman’s fantasy wrapped in sleek black.

The sensation of being watched had melted blocks ago, or maybe the heat he emanated had distracted her. Whatever the case, she was glad she no longer had that icky feeling. She parked her bike in an out-of-the-way corner of the lobby and