Therese flexed arms. Flexed legs. Turned her hands over, assessed her elbows. “I’m okay.”

Annnnnnnd that was when a case of the woozies took Trez’s wheel, his body weaving even though he was kneeling. To keep from passing the hell out on the female—because, one, he didn’t want to crush her just after he had tried to save her from being crushed, and two, he’d pulled the fainting routine with her once already, so really, he’d prefer to keep things fresh and interesting by staying fucking conscious—he shifted to one side and sat on his ass. As they both stayed put and panted, he heard the sounds of sirens and the shuffling of feet.

“Do you need to go out there?” she asked him as she focused on the wall of the corridor.

He was momentarily distracted by looking her over himself. Her hair, previously so neat in that bun, had a halo of escaped curls, and there was a high flush on her cheeks, one that made her look especially lovely, in spite of all the drama. She also appeared to be totally not bleeding.

#bonus

Fuck. His heart rate was never going to slow down.

What had she said? Oh, right.

“Xhex is on it.” Which was a good thing as he wasn’t sure whether he could stand up to go out there anyway. “You did really well—getting out of the way, I mean.”

“I was good until I couldn’t get on my feet.” She rubbed her eyes. “I was almost shot.”

“I know.”

As they fell silent, he was very aware that she was replaying the near miss just as he was. The idea that something like that could happen so fast—

“It happened so fast,” she said.

“I was thinking exactly the same thing.”

There was another slice of quiet, and then they looked at each other.

Later, when he replayed the next shock of the night, he would try to remember who reached for who first. Her? Him? He didn’t recall. Couldn’t recall.

Like it mattered?

All he knew for sure was that they were sitting side by side… and then they weren’t. They were in each other’s arms, and their mouths were fused, a desperate passion released, the adrenaline in their bloodstreams fueling a physical expression of the panic and the unexpected relief they both felt.

Therese’s lips moved against his own, and her tongue met his with the same kind of heat he was feeling in his veins. As her hands linked around the back of his neck, she arched up to him, her breasts pressing into his chest, her body weight now in his lap. The kissing was rough, and he told himself he needed to slow down, but that warning meant nothing to him. He didn’t know anything but the taste of her, the feel of her, the sense that what his brain told him was wrong was actually the rightest thing he had had since Selena’s death.

Because it was Selena.

The kissing, the touching, the passion that thickened his blood and his cock… it was his mate. He had been here before, he had done this before—

He had mourned the loss of this very connection. And its return was a benediction that wiped him out.

Well, not completely out. He retained enough presence of mind to lock the door they’d come through. The last thing he needed was for one of his staff to use the hidden passageway as an escape from the CPD, who were no doubt pulling up to the club right this moment.

Spurred on by a driving need, Trez swept his palm down to her hip. Then he brought it back up, under her risen arms, over her parka. He got some sense of the curves through the down padding, but it was not enough. Not nearly enough. Finding the opening between the halves, he plowed his greedy hand underneath and—

As he cupped her breast through the thin blouse of her waitress uniform, she cried out into his mouth, her body rolling against his torso, her legs churning on the concrete.

He needed her naked. Now.

He needed his own body naked. Now—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The two of them jerked apart and he looked toward the trap door.

At least it wasn’t gunshots. And what a standard that was.

He also knew who it was. “Do not open that.”

Xhex’s voice was wry. “Just making sure you’re alive.”

“Affirmative.” Trez knew what the next question was going to be. “I don’t need help. We’re—I’m fine.”

“Okay.” As Xhex spoke, he could picture his chief of security shaking her head. “I’m handling things out here. Police have arrived.”

“Thank you.”

Trez closed his eyes and cursed. Then he focused on Therese—

She was staring up at him with wide, confused eyes, her fingertips resting lightly on her mouth.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”

CHAPTER NINE

Therese couldn’t concentrate on what Trez was saying to her.

She was back to when they’d been kissing, his hands on her body, his mouth on hers, his tongue penetrating her. It had not been like the quick kiss they’d shared before. That one had been a surprise. An impulse. Something that was backed away from quickly on both their parts.

But what had just happened? For one, if they hadn’t been interrupted, it wouldn’t have stopped until it was finished. For another… it was not the first time she had felt him against her. She recognized his lips, his hands, his scent.

Because he had come to her in her dreams.

This Shadow was somehow… her shadow lover. Except how was that possible?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Trez’s eyes were worried, and he brushed a strand of her hair back from her face. “Do we need to get you medical help?”

Reaching up, she stroked his face with wonder. Maybe she was wrong, though. Maybe…

“Kiss me again,” she breathed.

As he hesitated, she was dimly aware that they were hardly in a private place. And this was not a good time, especially as urgent voices warred outside in the club proper. And moreover, she wasn’t sure where her head had gone after all that drama with the gun.

Except she didn’t care about any of that.

She had a hunger to reconnect with his mouth, his body, his… soul. A hunger that was so deep inside of her, she couldn’t understand it or determine its origin. Yes, he was a stunning male. And there was attraction on both sides. And whatever, whatever, whatever.

But this tie between them was something so much stronger than all that.

“I need you,” she said in a voice she had never heard come out of herself before.

Trez’s black eyes flashed peridot, and he asked no questions, made no comment. Instead, he brought his lips down on hers with a punishing passion, the heat re-flaring between them, branding her, branding them.

Groaning into his mouth, she rolled over onto the unforgiving concrete floor and pulled him on top of her. And to make sure she was very clear about where she wanted him, she parted her legs and he fit perfectly between them, his heavy weight crushing her into the hard floor, not that she cared about her spine’s protest.

“Don’t stop,” she begged. “Faster. I need you…”

Her hands were sloppy as she pulled his silk shirt out of his slacks and stroked up his rib cage and then down his lower back. Without her having to ask, he started to ride her through their clothes, his pelvis thrusting, his mammoth erection rubbing her in a place that ached for him.