Just before she disappeared into her bedroom, Charlotte snuck one last peek at him. Six feet plus of hot Highlander . . . the kilt, leather boots. He may have never worn one of these in his human life, but it looked like it belonged on him.
Charlotte stripped out of the costume she’d totally envisioned Torr taking off her, piece by piece, and turned on the shower. There was no hope for it. She was a mess.
She’d been so nervous about showing up at the bar in that getup, but it had been totally worth it. The look on Torr’s face when he first saw her . . .
Stepping into the hot shower, she moved quickly, not wanting to be away from him for long. Scrubbing away the dirt, she thought of the promise he’d made her and shivered in spite of the warmth of the water running down her—
“Oh!”
The door to the standing shower opened from behind, revealing her Scotsman. He stepped in and pulled her into him, kissing her neck—
“I said I’d be a minute—” she managed.
“I couldn’t wait.”
Spinning her around, Torr lowered his mouth to hers and took all that she was willing to give. Which was, precisely, everything. Slanting his head for better access, he covered her mouth completely, claiming her tongue—
“Mmmm,” he murmured, his hands everywhere. Hot water continued to pour over them, invading their kiss. No, not invading. Intensifying.
These past few days . . . she’d been starved for him, and Charlotte couldn’t get enough.
Fisting a handful of hair, Torr pulled her close and kissed her hard. His erection begged for attention, and she gave it. Reaching down, stroking him—
“Char,” he murmured against her mouth.
She continued, relishing in her power to make him groan, until he broke away and spun her back against the wall, forcing her hand from him. All she could do was grip his powerful shoulders as he bent down and laved her breast, his teeth nipping ever so gently.
No, those were not teeth on her breast. Sharp but gentle, his fangs grazed her nipple, and Charlotte’s hands grasped hold of Torr’s hair. Anything she could get a grip on.
Which was when she finally remembered.
Holy sweet Jesus. Was he going to do it now? She’d said she was ready, but . . .
Releasing her breast, he continued downward. To where exactly? She tried to look down, but the water made it easier to keep her eyes closed. To wait. He lifted her leg, placing it on the footstool she’d installed on the wall for shaving.
His tongue traced up and down the very core of her, joined by the rest of his mouth as he drove her completely mad with taunting, teasing . . . and fangs.
“I can’t.” She grasped his hair more tightly between her hands, pulling it.
He moaned beneath her and she really couldn’t hold it together any longer. If he bit her now . . .
“Torr,” she breathed, the spasms coming too quickly to allow her to finish. And then he lifted his mouth from her. She was about to protest, but another pleasure took its place when he thrust into her. She welcomed every single thrust, as if each one made her belong to him more—and she thrust back, showing him how much she needed him.
“God,” he moaned, “I missed you . . .”
His lips were on hers again, and she drank as if she’d die of thirst. With a roar of pleasure, Torr came inside her, Charlotte continuing to clutch him for dear life.
Charlotte really just wanted to collapse in a heap on the floor of the shower at this moment. And maybe sleep for a few days. Her body felt like it was made of Silly Putty.
Torr turned off the water and ran his hands through his hair. Reaching for hers, he wrung it out as if he weren’t a boy who should have no business knowing how to twist a woman’s hair free of water.
Then he swept her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her from the bathroom in a princess hold.
No towel, mind you.
“I’m dripping wet—”
“I know.” The intense need in his tone was enough to silence her. She no longer cared that she was wet, or that the carpet would be soaked. She only cared about him.
Placing her gently onto the bed, he lowered himself on top of her. Both of them were still wet, but she soon forgot as he promptly began to kiss her, heating her up all over again.
Charlotte was intimately aware of the increased stamina that came with his curse—or blessing—but still, she wasn’t prepared for—
“Oh!” His fingers.
She looked into the green eyes above her as he drove her to the brink with a few simple touches. Droplets of water from his hair snaked down her shoulders.
“Expecting something else?”
She honestly couldn’t keep up. Except that sensation unfurled within her, glorious and strong and undeniable, and she couldn’t do anything but grab the comforter and scream. He’d used his thumb and his fingers that time. It shouldn’t be humanly possible to bring her to back-to-back orgasms so quickly.
Except he wasn’t human.
And then he was gone.
Reappearing a moment later, wrapped in a towel, Torr proceeded to dry her as if she were a child and couldn’t be trusted to complete the job herself.
It felt kind of nice, actually.
“A bit late for the modesty, isn’t it?” she said, referring to the towel wrapped around his waist.
He winked. “I didn’t want you to get any ideas. I know how relentless you can be in—”
He didn’t finish. The pillow she’d thrown at his face prevented it.
Torr lowered the pillow onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her. Appreciating her.
“Don’t even think about it,” she cautioned, not really meaning it.
“Too late.”
She smiled lazily. “Honestly, Torr. We need to talk.”
“About?”
She opened her mouth and pointed.
“Ahh, that. Did you change your mind? Do you want me to tell you—”
“No. I just . . . I wondered if you were going to do it tonight.”
He didn’t answer at first.
“No. I’m not. But I will do it, Charlotte. I promise you that.”
“And you’re sure about this? I mean, forever is an awful long time. You aren’t going to get sick of me?”
He reached for the edge of the comforter and pulled it up over her.
“I should be the one asking you that question.”
He took off his towel and joined her under the blanket, pulling her against his chest and kissing the top of her head.
“I’m ready,” she said. “I love you. Besides, I even made peace with my mother—”
“You’ll have to tell me about that. I was surprised you went home, of all places.”
“Yeah,” she said, kissing his chest. “Me too. And I will tell you all about it.” She yawned. “Another time.”
For now, she just wanted to rest.
“I love you too,” he whispered beside her.
Utterly spent, Charlotte closed her eyes.
Still human. For now.
Chapter 26
Three days after the opening, Charlotte was trying to go about her life as normally as possible. But it was difficult to concentrate. Although no one other than the Derricksons and her friends knew it, these would be her final days of teaching. On some level she was sad—she’d fought for her career, after all, and she loved her students—but her heart wasn’t in it anymore. It felt like this stage of her life, the one she’d built for herself after leaving home, was over. Perhaps it wasn’t the most responsible decision, but Charlotte wanted a bigger purpose. She would be helping people like Alessandra, keeping them safe and protecting them against a group of extremists.
Of the vampire-hunting sort.
Should she feel guilty for that? Even a desire to help others was, in a way, self-serving.
She knew what Torr would say. And, for a change, she was ready to adopt his laissez-faire attitude.
Except
he wasn’t acting so carefree at the moment. She wasn’t sure what had him so on edge. If it was the turning, why didn’t he just get it over with already?
She pushed her way into the bar.
“We’re not open yet . . . oh, Charlotte! Come in.”
“How’s it going?”
Toni appeared to be alone behind the bar—just as Charlotte had hoped. She was eager for some advice.
“Going great,” Toni said, sitting down. “Can you believe this place? First Saturday, and then the grand opening. And the reviews—”
“I know! I’m so proud of you.”
The Vault was a certifiable hit. She and Torr had spent the day here Sunday, the night after the soft opening. A steady crowd had kept the staff busy all day.
“I’m sorry I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you much,” Toni said.
“Get out of here. Are you kidding? I know how much you have going on.”
“But still—” Toni lowered her voice as one of the waitresses emerged from the back room. Though The Vault didn’t have a full menu and served only tapas, a full kitchen staff was still needed, which meant someone would almost always be on staff, even if the bar didn’t open for another two hours.
“I’ve been dying to know what’s going on with you and Torr. Clearly you’re back together?”
“And will be, for a long time to come.”
She hadn’t told anyone yet about Torr’s decision, and apparently he hadn’t shared the news either.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Toni splayed her hands on the bar. “O. M. G.,” she said with a grin. “That’s . . . huge!”
“Pretty huge, yeah.” She was grinning too—she felt like she couldn’t stop lately. “I’m not sure when he’s going to do it. I told him I don’t want to know.”
Toni, who had been straightening a couple of glasses, fumbled them. “Are you out of your mind? I would be walking on eggshells—”
“I kinda like surprises.”
“Girl, that is not a surprise. It’s a life-altering . . . oh fuck.” The look in her eyes promised that a whole lot of not good had walked in through the door.
She turned toward the door. Oh fuck was right.
Everyone had barged in at once—Torr, Lawrence, Kenton, Alessandra, and Laria—and they all looked like they wanted to bite someone.
“What the—”
“Get behind the bar,” Torr said to her. “With Toni.”
His tone left no room for misinterpretation—they were in danger—and so she immediately complied. When the door opened again, their more powerful friends stood between them and the visitor.
“Who is that?” she whispered to Toni, squeezing her hand.
“Oh God. I wondered why Lawrence wasn’t returning my calls.”
“Toni?”
“That would be Kenton’s brother.”
She couldn’t get a good look at him from this angle, not with the others crowded around, but Charlotte had no trouble hearing him.
“I’m here for a simple drink—”
“We’re closed.” That was Lawrence.
“Well, you don’t look closed.”
Kenton’s brother stepped around Laria and looked right at her.
Intense.
It was the best word she could think of to describe him.
Though he looked a lot like Kenton, his face was slightly slimmer, his eyebrows thicker. He was handsome, of course, fiercely so, but he seemed neither approachable nor friendly.
“He’s . . . kinda scary looking,” she whispered to Toni.
“Yeah, well, you haven’t met his other brother yet.”
“Have you?”
“No,” Toni admitted. “And I’d rather not.”
He took a step toward them, which was when Torr grabbed his arm. “Not a step closer to the women.”
“Ahh, I see. The blondie is yours?”
Charlotte opened her mouth to explain she didn’t belong to anyone, but Toni grabbed her hand.
“I wouldn’t.”
Kenton stepped between Torr and his brother. “What do you want, Drake? Why are you here?”
The others fell back, except for Torr, who stayed put but didn’t advance on the Morley brother.
“So cozy,” Drake taunted. “Not one Derrickson but two. I suppose you’ve no need for your own brothers now that you’ve got two Scottish lapdogs.”
Charlotte didn’t even see Torr take a swing, but before she knew what was happening, Drake’s head snapped back.
“Get everyone out of here,” Kenton yelled. Alessandra didn’t need to be asked twice. She and Laria hustled the waitresses out of the bar, leaving Charlotte and Toni the only two humans present.
A good thing, because the speed at which Torr and Drake went at each other was mind-blowing.
Charlotte had never witnessed a fight this close up, and it was awful. The sound of Drake’s fist connecting with Torr’s face was nearly as bad as the sight of it. Torr struck back, while Kenton stood to the side, arms crossed, as if he were bored. Lawrence didn’t look bored, exactly, but neither did he seem concerned for his brother.
“They’re going to kill each other,” Charlotte cried out.
“They can’t hurt each other,” Toni said. “Not really. I mean, temporarily, but—”
“Right,” she said, wincing as Drake knocked Torr to the ground. He responded by pulling Drake down with him and the two started wrestling. “But in the meantime—”
“In the meantime, they’ll do what Derricksons and Morleys have been doing for centuries. Beating the crap out of each other.”
“OK, that’s enough,” Kenton said finally.
No one listened.
“Drake!” he shouted. Surprisingly, his brother shoved away from Torr and sprang up. He hadn’t seemed inclined to listen to Kenton earlier. What had changed?
“Are you two quite finished?” Kenton did not look happy.
“Thankfully, my employees were taken out of here before your little display,” Lawrence added. “You would have revealed us to everyone.”
“Oh my God.” Charlotte had just gotten a look at Torr’s beaten face. It looked like mincemeat. She was going to be sick.
“Don’t worry,” Toni whispered. “It’ll heal.”
“You never answered my question,” Kenton pressed. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to save your ass, big brother,” Drake spat. “Or hers.” He nodded to Alessandra, who’d just walked back into the room. “To be precise.”
“Stay back,” Kenton shouted to Alessandra. It was clear he didn’t want her anywhere near his brother, both from his words and the desperation on his face, but she ignored his warnings and approached the group.
“If I wanted her dead, brother, the Cheld would be—”
“Careful with your words,” Lawrence cut in.
“The waitresses are in the kitchen with Laria,” Alessandra said. “You may have some explaining to do, Lawrence, but they didn’t see much.” She then glanced behind the bar and smiled, as if to reassure Charlotte and Toni all would be well.
Fat chance.
“I came to warn you,” Drake said, his words and tone at odds. “Rowan means to kill her—and her brother.”
Kenton flinched. “I seem to recall you made the same threat against her the last time you were in Stone Haven. I’ve called you and texted you dozens of times, Drake, more, and now you show up out of nowhere and say you’re here to help?”
“I never said I wanted her dead.”
“You never said you didn’t. I remember the conversation quite well, little brother.”
“I was pissed.” Drake shot a contemptuous glance at the Derrickson brothers. “And still am. How you could align yourself with this family—”
“Don’t start this now.” Lawrence took a step toward him.
“I’ll start whatever I—”
“Excuse me. Pardon.” Alessandra stepped in front of Kenton and positioned
herself between the Morley brothers on one side and the Derricksons on the other. “If you’ve all finished marking your respective territories—”
“Alessandra . . .” Kenton tried to edge out in front of her.
She moved—only not the way he’d probably intended.
“Holy shit!” Toni said as Alessandra literally tackled Drake to the ground. One minute she was prettily interrupting the conversation. The next, she knelt on Drake’s chest, pinning his arms on both sides. Perhaps he’d let her do it; perhaps she really was strong enough to restrain one of the first vampires. Either way, the effect was the same—Drake didn’t move.
She and Toni strained to hear.
“Are you here to kill me?”
“No.”
“I’ll have you know, I’m quite happy with my head on its shoulders, thank you very much. And would like to keep it there. Next time, call your brother back.”
With that, Alessandra stood up, reached a hand out to Drake, and helped him to his feet.
Charlotte suspected he didn’t need the help, but the fact that he took her hand after she’d knocked him onto his ass spoke volumes.
Unless he was playing a ridiculously long game, it would seem he really had come in peace.
Alessandra whispered something to Kenton, whose shoulders immediately relaxed.
“He’s not a danger,” Toni muttered, which was when Charlotte remembered Alessandra’s special Cheld ability.
The group approached the bar just as Laria emerged from the kitchen.
“Nice of you to let me know it’s safe to come out,” she said, watching as they all sat around the bar. “The waitresses are scared out of their minds. They think we’re being robbed.”
“I’ll talk to them,” Lawrence said, leaving for the kitchen.
Charlotte noticed the look exchanged between Laria and Drake. Interesting. The tension between them felt different than the outright enmity between him and her brothers.
“I’ll stand,” Drake insisted, lingering a few feet from the bar.
“Sit,” Kenton ordered.
At first Drake simply glared at his elder brother, but then Kenton reached out a hand to him. He took it as the two embraced.
Men. Five minutes ago, she’d suspected they would go at it, and now they were hugging. She shook her head and glanced at Torr. His face already partially healed, he took the drink Toni passed to him as Lawrence walked back into the room.
The Hunter's Affection (Bloodwite Book 3) Page 19