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fabulous—not overly minty, just fresh and clean . “Nothing.” She swatted at her earpiece. The voices swarmed in her head like pesky mosquitoes. “Too many—”
    “ Where’s your receiver?”
    “ Front pocket.”
    “ Lukas?” Rafe spoke into his own headset. “Bailey and I are going offline for a bit.” After turning off his own receiver, his long, clever fingers dipped into her front pocket, found her receiver, and flicked it off.
    Flicked , too close to her—
    T he orgasm slammed into her like a rogue wave, heaving her up, holding her suspended, and tossing her willy-nilly over the edge. As she tumbled, strong arms reached for her, plucked her from the whitewater froth, holding her steady while time eddied and swirled.
    A nearby howl brought her back to the here and now. Blinking owlishly, she locked her wobbly knees and tried to focus. All she could see was a sea of black—Rafe’s tailored shirt. Oh my God. Utterly mortified, she dropped her forehead to the soft cotton, trying to hide her face. 
    “ Bailey?”
    His soft murmur skittered straight to her core. “I’m…so sorry.” He was a sex demon; there was no way he hadn’t noticed that his painfully platonic touch had triggered the most rocking orgasm she’d had in years. God, she must reek of desperation. Sweeping up the scattered shards of her courage, she gave a wry, self-deprecating chuckle. “Well, that was certainly embarrassing—”
    “ Bailey.”
    His low, rumbly voice made her stomach leap. Lifting her head from his chest, she saw his clenched jaw, carved cheekbones, and the elegant flare of his nostrils as he inhaled. His tawny, gold-flecked eyes glittered as his long fingers flexed against the curve of her hips.
    Subtle as the movement was, she followed its momentum, brushing their hips together. Her breath snagged in her throat. 
    He was rampantly, outrageously erect.
    His fingers spasmed, biting into her ass, pulling her closer. His alluring scent darkened, deepened, drew her in. She couldn’t quite find the muscular will to move.
    A lluring…root word ‘lure.’ She’d discovered at least one answer to the question she’d asked herself earlier in the evening. It made sense that the incubus with the most bewitching scent would have more opportunities to breed, to mate, to spread his genetic material. How clever that the prey would nearly die of pleasure in the process.
    He stepped away, his hands clenching into fists. “Sasha said the meds are in the medicine cabinet in her office bathroom. Let’s go.”
    S he could still feel the imprint of his hot, rigid flesh against her stomach.
    She wanted to feel it—him—again .
    “ Come on.” A muscle ticked in his cheek. Taking her hand, he started blazing a trail across the dance floor. The band hadn’t taken the stage yet, but the floor was packed. “We'll get you fixed up in a minute.”
    Don’t wanna be fixed up. Wrapping her arms around his body, she burrowed closer, to his height, to his heat, to the protection of his long, lean form as he cut through the crowd. His elegant designer duds disguised a surprising amount of muscle, muscle she wanted to stroke, clutch, test with her teeth. She wanted to shove him up against a wall, slam their mouths together. Taste him, touch him, take him. While she’d certainly had lovers—men she’d shared her body with for a few enjoyable hours, but nothing more—with Rafe, she’d be completely out of her league. She had nowhere near enough experience to handle him, much less please him. 
    But wouldn’t it be fun to try? If the rumors were true, he had a reputation for hedonism even among his kind, and—she glanced at the erection ruining the drape of his pants—that big boy wasn’t about to go away on its own. Maybe he’d be up for a no-strings encounter.
    With her .
    Before she knew it, they were clear of the dance floor. Rafe loosened his arm slightly, but didn’t let her go. As they walked past the busy back bar, Flynn,