Immortal Distraction by Elizabeth Finn Page B

show of his powers at the precinct to go unnoticed, least of all by her. It wasn’t for Michael Emerson’s benefit. He’d only met the man once, and he knew from plenty of past experience that the man would eventually chalk it up to nothing more than a fluke, an off day. But he’d let Brit see him. And Brit knew him well enough, whether she wanted to admit it or not, to not fall into that trap easily.
    He had no business doing it, and he knew the only way to erase it was to erase every last memory of himself from her mind. Their lives were entangled, and even without the search for Driscoll pushing them along together, there was no denying their connection. And it was too painful to even consider removing himself from her mind. He didn’t want to start over with her, and yet … he knew he couldn’t stay away from her. He was starting to feel more like Truman by the minute, and it was intoxicating and infuriating all at the same time. He didn’t want to fight his way back to this place with her, and frankly, this place was a far distance from where he’d like to be with her. She was, after all, still holding him at arm’s length, and every encounter was a fight, and he damn well knew it. But he wanted her to see him, and part of him didn’t care how reckless it was. He’d always intended to wipe Michael’s mind from the get-go, but he hadn’t intended to flaunt it in front of Brit.
    “I don’t know what you are … but you’re not … normal. Not human.” She was accusing him as though what she was saying could somehow offend him. In a way, it did.
    “Then what, pray tell, am I?” He continued to study her reaction calmly and coolly. He watched as her eyelids fluttered. It was a mentally exhausted reaction. She didn’t know what to think, and he understood that. She was rigid in her fury, in her absolute confusion. This woman couldn’t stand not being in control, and right now, she was lost, and control was nowhere near her grasp.
    When he grabbed her body and pushed her swiftly up to the wall beside her, it was with a speed that left little time for her to react; it was exactly the intention. He listened to her heart race. His hand was holding her waist in place, and his eyes were staring in smoldering need. He had to have her. She had to know him, and he couldn’t stand to be pushed away by her when she wanted him so damn much—not for even one more moment.
    But he waited.
    She was gasping as his mouth lowered to her neck. She was in shock, and he intended to wake her body up. If she thought her control was being challenged before, he was going to make sure she understood just how pleasurable it could be to hand over her power to him. He started just below her ear, grazing his teeth, which had already started to protract, carefully and slowly down the side of her neck. He was gentle enough not to break the skin, but the sharp points of his protracted canines were leaving red streaks of slightly raised and inflamed skin in their path as he moved. Her heartbeat instantly sped at the feel. When he hit the spot just where her neck met her clavicle, he licked. Her V-neck shirt was helpful, but not helpful enough, and as he reached to the neckline, he pulled the fabric toward her shoulder, opening up the rest of her collarbone. He licked lightly across the protruding bone, listening to her heart pound, and he waited some more.
    And then it was there.
    Her arousal hit his senses like an aphrodisiac he’d become addicted to, and he was done waiting any longer. He pushed his rigid length hard against her groin as she moaned, and then leaning to her ear, he spoke through gritted teeth. “If I’m not a man, what the fuck am I?” His tone was as harsh as his words, and she shivered in his arms at the intense sound of his voice. “Don’t tell me I’m not a man.” He was damn near growling at her.
    She didn’t resist when he lifted her hips to straddle his and pushed his groin harshly into hers, pinning her