Chapter Eight

Lucilla stood on her porch, looking up into Jager’s tense face. “You did the right thing.”

“Then why do I feel like I’ve just let my entire race down?”

She put her hand to his face, cupping his cheek tenderly. “No, Jager. I think you saved it.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“Look, the only people you’ve undermined are Rhea and her underlings. Even Zeus came to you for help. That says something.”

“I did it for you.”

Though his motives might be selfish, his heart was in the right place. Hers, however, had taken flight.

“Aramis will speak to the Council and they’ll take precautions.” She moved closer to him. “You’ve given them time.”

“I suppose there is that. But there’s always the possibility the other Titans will side with her in this.”

“You’ve been in that position before and come out on top.”

He backed her up to the house, pressing her between his hard body and heavy oak door. “Let me come in.” He nuzzled the sensitive place behind her ear. “You smell and feel so good.”

Lucilla knew inviting him in would result in only one outcome—they’d end up in bed. But she’d only agreed to a date, not to an affair.

As Jager continued to kiss a line down her throat, her resistance fled. His large hands rubbed her back, moving low enough to skim over the curve of her bottom. He pulled her closer. The ridge of his erection ground into her, right under her breast. Goddess, but he was a tall cauldron of brew. He thrust his hips slowly forward, moving between her cleavage. He moaned.

This had gone too far for a goodnight kiss.

He pulled back, breath puffing the hair around her face. “Tell me it isn’t serious between you and Blacktalon.”

“I hardly know the man. He’s friends with my Aunt Rebekah.”

He sent a long finger to trace her brow, cheeks and mouth. “You two looked pretty friendly.”

“He’s a nice man. A good man. I think I can match him with someone from my agency.”

Jager gave a throaty laugh. “So you see him as a potential client, not a lover?”

“I see everyone as a potential client. It’s one of the keys to my success.” Lucilla gazed into his eyes. His were full of smoldering desire.

How long had she waited to know the potent pull of a man’s passion?

“Let me come inside.” This time the request came out as a rough plea.

Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted nothing more than to ride him like a broomstick on a full moon.

She turned in the circle of his embrace to unlock the door. Jager’s arms came around her waist. His mouth descended on her shoulder.

Why did it take so long to unlock a door? Her fingers didn’t to want to perform the mundane task. All they wanted to do was turn and begin ripping Jager’s expensive suit from his hard Titan body.

“Having problems?”

“Yes, and you aren’t helping.”

Jager placed his hand on hers. “Allow me.”

They made it into the house, but stalled on the stairs. With arms and legs tangled, it was hard to navigate. Lucilla landed on her bottom. Jager followed her down.

“Are you all right?” It seemed a compulsory question since Jager never slowed in his removal of her clothing to pay attention to her answer.

Lucilla didn’t mind. Her hands were full of his jacket where she’d jerked it down his arms.

He moved off her only long enough to yank it off the rest of the way then gathered her close. His mouth opened on hers. His tongue invaded and retreated, moving against hers in sinuous motion.

Was it possible to have an orgasm from kissing alone? If so, she lay on the very brink. What Jager could do with his lips should have been illegal in all fifty states and most territories.

With their mouths connected, he unzipped her dress, sliding it down until her breasts were exposed to the heat of his body. The soft fabric of his shirt brushed against her distended nipples.

“Beautiful,” he murmured then took one of them into his mouth.

Desire pooled in her belly. Jager used teeth and lips to stoke her higher, until at last she trembled.

With a jerk, he was off her and standing. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her up the stairs.

“Where is your bedroom?”

“End of the hall.”

If his legs weren’t so long, he would have been in an all-out sprint getting her to the bed. Once there, he laid her down and then stepped back, as if to admire the view. A devilish smile played along the corner of his wide sensuous mouth. His gaze drank her in as if he were dying of thirst.

Self-consciously, Lucilla began to tug her dress back up to cover her exposed breasts.

Jager shook his head. “No. Don’t cover yourself.”

She twirled her hand helplessly in front of her. “Then you have to lose your shirt. I’m not lying here topless all by myself.”

“No. We wouldn’t want that.” He unbuttoned his shirt then slowly shed it.

Goddess, how she wished she’d turned on the central stereo system before coming up here. Somehow she’d gotten a vision into her head of Jager stripping for her to Santana’s “Black Magic Woman”. Not that she knew anyone who practiced the dark side of the craft. The song just stuck in her head.

Even without the music, Jager’s naked chest was an event worthy of applause. Her palms tickled in anticipation of touching that bronze expanse of muscular flesh.

He let the cotton slide off his shoulders. The man was a huge tease. And judging from the way he was working it, he was enjoying putting on the show immensely. His eyes sparkled with mischief.

Who’d have thought Jager Cronus was playful in bed? He’d always seemed so damned serious to her.

His shirt dropped to the floor with a final flourish. “Now it’s your turn. Shimmy out of that dress.”

Oh, hell, she should have known it was going to be tit for tat.

The hard part was struggling the rest of the way out of a sheath dress that fit like a second skin. Sexy was the last word that came to mind. She’d probably look like a fish trying to scale itself.

She took in a deep breath, holding in her stomach, and leaned against the ornate headboard. Tilting her pelvis up, she slipped the dress over her hips. Jager leaned over and tugged the fabric down her legs. She lay there in nothing more than a scrap of black lace and seed pearls.

“Those are some kind of panties, Lucilla.”

“I thought I’d dress for the occasion.”

He started onto the bed with his knee. Lucilla raised a finger and waved it at him. “This is a no pants zone.”

“Well, in that case.”

The dropping of trou was done with less finesse than the shirt. The evidence as to why shone through the silky fabric of his boxers.

Lucilla heard herself gulp audibly.

What had she gotten herself into with this man? Sure he was a Titan, and by definition he had to be big. But saying Jager was well-endowed was like saying the Golden Gate was a footbridge or Niagara Falls had a little water problem.

“Is that fear I see in your eyes?” The concern in his voice touched her. So did the hand he ran up her leg, right to the inside of her thigh.

“Apprehension. Fear is not in my vocabulary.”

“Glad to hear it.” He stretched out beside her, his hand making lazy swirls over the front of her decorative panties.

Her breath caught as his fingers moved lower and lower toward that achy place deep inside her.

It occurred to her that she lay on the bed with her arms at her sides, letting him feel her up, when she had all that gorgeous maleness within reach that she hadn’t even begun to explore yet. By rights she should be taking advantage of the opportunity before her and drive Jager right out of his ever-loving mind. It wasn’t as if she were an untried virgin. She’d had lovers.

Well, a few. Some. Not many. All right, she didn’t have that much experience, but she had enough and she had a very fertile imagination.

She rolled onto her side, facing him. How would he react if she did the same thing to his boxers as he’d done to her panties? Probably come unglued at the seams.

Lucilla started at the top of his chest, feeling the ripple of muscles and bone across his front. He was smooth, but tough. It was an odd combination she had a hard time defining. But oh, so masculine.

He had no hair on his chest. She’d always loved a hairy chest, but for some reason, on Jager she didn’t miss it. He was perfection. Like a statue she’d once seen in a museum. All smooth, defined and perfect. His skin felt hot to the touch. Burning.

She ran her hand down his pecs, grazing her nails over his nipples.

He sucked in a breath, releasing it on a pleasured sound.

She flattened her hand and moved it down his stomach, heading for the gold.

Just as her hand reached its goal, she looked up into his face. His eyes were dark pools of desire. His jaw clamped tightly as if he held back strong emotion.

When she wrapped her hand around his silk-clad erection, he lost control.

Lucilla ended up underneath him, her panties hanging off the bedside lamp, his big body on and in her.

She’d been wrong to be apprehensive. It was amazing.

He touched her everywhere at once. There wasn’t a part of her sensitized flesh neglected as he thrust into her. She lifted her legs to rest high on his hips. His big hand held her in place. Their mouths collided in a kiss so deep and tender, her back arched in response.

How was she ever going to get close enough to him? If she lived inside his skin, it wouldn’t be close enough for her.

“Look at me, Lucilla,” he murmured, tearing his mouth from hers.

Her lashes fluttered open to gaze into his eyes.

“Yes, like that, my love.” He thrust deeper, harder, hitting that special place that shattered her on impact.

“Jager.” The sound of her voice surprised her. It was raw, desperate. Hot. It was a cry for mercy and a plea for more.

“I’m here. Always.” And he followed her down into the most carnal orgasm ever.