At first.

Then she caught his lower lip between her teeth. Tugged gently. Nipped.

He shuddered against her.

The kiss stopped being so easy and light.

His tongue thrust into her mouth. His hands settled on her ass and lifted her right up against his cock. Ah, he was definitely responding to the kiss. So was she. Her ni**les were getting tight and heavy. She’d wanted his mouth on them last night. Maybe now he could—

Cain’s head lifted. “How do you smell so good?”

What? She blinked at him.

“Sweet, light,” he said, eyes narrowing as they swept over. “Like candy.”

Oh. Ahem. She cleared her throat. “That’s the soap I use.” Soap. Shampoo. Body lotion. She’d gotten some big kit last Christmas, and she used it all the time. Eve couldn’t remember the name, something like peppermint dreams or—

“It makes me want to lick you all over.”

That didn’t sound like such a bad plan to her. “Will I get a turn?” Her voice lowered as she asked. Licking him would be pretty damn fantastic.

But he stiffened and pushed her away. Eve’s brows lowered, and she shook her head. In her limited experience, guys didn’t turn down offers like the one she’d just made. Guys jumped on those offers. “Cain?”

He’d spun away from her and was at the window, peeking out through the thin curtains. “Company.”

She didn’t hear anything, but she still hurried to his side. Okay, she didn’t see anything, either. “Are you sure?”

“Two cars. Police. They’re searching the area. I thought we’d have more time . . .” He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the window. “We’re leaving. Now.”

So in addition to being a literal firepower, the guy had super senses, too. She’d known that he’d heard her and Wyatt through that so-called soundproof glass, but now he was just being extra impressive.

Eve hurried over to the laptop. A new screen was up—one that asked for a password. Like a password request would stop her. She knew people—or rather, one very smart guy in particular—who could work around pretty much any tech code out there.

“Hurry, Eve.”

She turned back to him. She was wearing an old shirt that she’d found in his closet, one that she’d belted to make look like a rather unstylish dress. She had on her shoes, and after a shower, she looked semi—

“Eve.”

Right. Screw beauty. She hurried after him. They jumped into the truck and rushed down a dirt road. She looked back behind them as Cain hauled ass, but still didn’t see anyone. “If Genesis is dead, why are we running?”

“Because cops and I damn well don’t mix.” He was flooring the truck, sending it bouncing along the road and hurtling down the mountain.

She yanked on her seat belt. “We’re the innocent ones here. Wyatt was the one who—”

His cold laughter stopped her. “Baby, I’ve never been innocent a day in my life.”

Eve could believe that. Actually, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know about all the things he’d done.

“When you do your big report on Genesis and that prick Wyatt, do me one favor . . .” Cain slanted a fast glance her way even as he punched the gas harder. “Leave my name out of it.”

“But—but what he did to you . . .” She’d seen it with her own eyes. “They killed you. Tortured you.” He deserved justice for that. People should know his story.

“Not like it’s the first time for any of that.” Cain’s voice was growing colder, but the truck was still going just as fast. “So tell your story, but leave me the hell out of it. The last thing I want is any attention from the media—or the humans.”

Her hand tightened around the seat belt strap that crossed her shoulder. “Okay.” She figured he deserved that protection. He’d hauled her butt out of the fire. She’d keep his name out of her story. Subject Thirteen. That was all he’d be to the people who read about the nightmare of Genesis.

Except . . .

“I’d like to know, though,” Eve told him. His profile was so strong. Hard. Had he really burned for her just minutes before? No, she’d burned for him. She was still aroused. Aching. She was very worried Cain might be ruining her for other men. “What are you?”

He didn’t answer at first, and she didn’t think that he would. But after a time, he said, “I’m the devil.”

A chill skated down her spine because he sounded so . . . serious. She shook her head. “No, you’re not. You’re just—” Trying to scare me. But she didn’t say those words.