Draven
Page 7
Brea smiled. There was the Draven she had fallen for, though now wouldn’t exactly be the best time for confessions. “Welcome back to the living, barkeep.”
“Please tell me it gets better.”
“Once you feed.”
He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Gross.”
“Your fault.” She scowled. “What the hell were you thinking anyway?”
“Ask me that when the hangover leaves.”
“It isn’t a hangover, Draven.” Brea moved on the mattress so she sat on her knees beside him. “You are in serious need of … sustenance. You’ll feel much better once you feed. Now get your sorry ass out of this bed so we can both get nourishment. I could have died here waiting on you.”
“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” The mention of taking care of her, though, got him moving, which had been her hope. Placing his feet on the wooden flooring, he stood, not bothering with the sheet. He stood gloriously naked, his backside to her. Brea resisted the urge to bite.
“Nice ass, vamp boy.”
Draven shook his head as he stepped into his discarded pants. He pulled them over his lean hips and fastened them before turning around. Desire shot through her. Brea had a feeling she might have to get used to being in a constant state of arousal around him. He looked good enough to eat. As a matter of fact, the sex was about to get a whole lot better. So how did they top fantastic?
“I think I preferred barkeep.”
“Not into being a sexy vampire?”
His nostrils flared. Draven placed his fists on his hips. “If you don’t calm the fuck down, we will never get nourished.”
Brea’s gaze snapped up from the growing bulge in his pants to his darkening eyes. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
She lied. Brea knew exactly what he was referring to. His vampire senses were kicking in and he scented her desire. Brea drew her lower lip between her teeth. Her gaze traveled over the sparse hair on his chest and down to the waistband of his jeans. His bulge had definitely gotten bigger.
Draven growled. “You are one fucking cruel woman.”
“How do you figure?” she asked, arching one of her brows.
“You know damn well I can smell you. Christ, if not for being so hungry, I’d be bending you over that filthy mattress and fucking you until you cried mercy. Instead, my gut wants to gnaw a hole right through the nasty thing.”
She chuckled. Grabbing his shirt from the chair next to the bed, she tossed it to him. “Let’s go get you something to eat. Then I’m going to hold you to that promise. Just so you know, barkeep, I’m a vampire. I won’t cry mercy easily.”
He smiled for the first time since awakening. “I’m counting on it, sweetheart.”
Chapter 14
Draven pulled the motorcycle to a stop in front of a small tavern on the outskirts of Tijuana. In hand-painted letters were the words Casillero del Diablo. Devil Locker … fitting since they were likely in the Devils’ territory. The MC claimed California as their state, but he bet they easily slid into these parts of Mexico as well since they worked side-by-side with the La Paz cartel.
He kicked down the side stand and allowed Brea to step over the seat before he alighted. Taking off the black helmet, he placed it on the seat as he swept his gaze over the area. Very few milled about. A couple of stray dogs nosed for garbage in the adjacent alley, while a couple of kids played ball in the dirt streets. Draven would bet this place catered to the locals. It certainly didn’t have a touristy vibe.
The rough-hewn siding could’ve used a good paint job. The peeling white paint left much of the dark wood beneath exposed. A neon sign flickered, advertising Modelo, in one of the two windows facing the street. Draven could appreciate a good Mexican beer.
Today was not going to be one of those days.
They were in search of something warm, thick, and disgusting. Not something they’d find on tap. Draven didn’t want to think about his new form of nutrition, even if his stomach pained in hunger. The thought of the warm, crimson fluid nearly made him gag. He rubbed a palm down his whiskers, the scratch barely audible above the muted sound of the bass coming from the tavern.
The door opened and AC/DC’s “Back in Black” spilled into the parking lot. A short, black-haired man exited the bar, his width damn near matching his height. Draven didn’t miss the six-shooter holstered at his side as he lumbered by. Most men patronizing the joint likely carried firearms. He turned to Brea, who seemed completely at ease.
“You know anyone here?”
Brea smiled, her gaze turning up in humor. “They don’t bite.” She leaned in and whispered into his ear, “We do.”
Skirting him, Brea walked over to the wooden door with a dirt smudged oval window and yanked it open, not bothering to see if he followed. Christ! He best get with the program or wind up dying of hunger. It already felt like he had a hole starting in his stomach about a mile wide. Brea was correct. They were the immortals, therefore they had the advantage.
Draven entered the tavern behind her. Other than Brea and the bartender, only one other man sat on a barstool, nursing a draft beer. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was still early, being only about half past eight. Draven knew all too well the bar life didn’t get lively until after ten. He supposed if they got this over with quickly, they could be in and out… The door opened and two more men strode into the establishment, these two looking none too friendly. As a matter of fact, Draven would prefer to steer clear of them. He was about to suggest just that when Brea left him standing by the bar. She approached the two men, who had taken a booth at the far end of the bar next to another door with a red emergency exit sign hanging above it.
Okay, maybe allowing the little sprite to plan this whole feeding debacle wasn’t the wisest of plans. She was going to get them a bullet right between the eyes. He allowed her a few moments before he walked up behind her and placed his hand possessively on the small of her back. Draven didn’t want there to be any question as to whom she belonged to.
Brea turned, smiled warmly at him, then gave the gentleman her attention again. “So how about it?”
The larger of the two looked from Draven back to Brea. He pointed a light-brown finger in Draven’s direction. “We don’t have to fuck him, right?”
Brea chuckled, the sound deep, though not at all like her normal laugh. “Just me, big boy. That is if you think you can handle me. I take you two into the bathroom. You fuck me while I give him”—she pointed at the smaller of the two, which wasn’t saying much because he was still fairly good in size—“a blow job.”
“What’s he gonna do?” the smaller of the two asked. He patted the sheathed hunting knife at his side. “If the fucker thinks to rob us, we’ll gut you both.”
Brea leaned down and braced her hands on the table, probably giving them a pretty good shot of the brassiere she wore beneath her sweater. “He’s going to watch. We’re kinky that way.”
“Fuck that.” The bigger one shook his head. “I don’t know what kind of shit you’re into, but you can forget it. I’d just as soon put a bullet in his head than have him watch while I fuck you.”
Draven was seconds from fisting her sweater and dragging her ass out of there. Quite frankly, her tactics sucked.
“Whoa, Joe. I’m all about that little señorita wrapping her lips around my cock. I don’t give a fuck if the fresa watches or not.
This was about to take a turn for the ugly. Before he could stop Brea, she headed for the door marked Señoritas. The smaller man slid from the booth and quickly followed, leaving Joe cursing up a blue streak before standing and following his buddy through the door. Draven sighed. Nope, this was not going to end well. By the time he reached the door, not a sound could be heard on the other slide, not even with his enhanced hearing from his newly acquired vampire genetics. Draven eased the door open to find both men, standing side-by-side with a dazed look on their faces.
Fuck! He had missed all the fun.
“It doesn’t take long to hypnotize someone, barkeep. Just get them to look you into the eyes and say the right words.”
Brea grabbed Joe’s arm and held it out to Draven. His damn fangs had a mind of their own, no matter what his thoughts had to say about it, and punched through his gums. The tips scraped his bottom lip, attesting to their razor-sharpness. Brea had already fully transformed, gorgeous in her vampire self. He couldn’t wait to get her back to the cabin. His eyes heated as they transformed into the endless black pools, mirroring Brea’s.
Without thought, Draven brought the forearm to his nose and sniffed, the rich, heady scent pleasing to his palate. He easily sank his fangs into the man’s wrist. Joe’s succulent blood smoothed over his tongue and down his throat, quickly soothing the ache in his stomach. Draven had to fight the urge to gag. It certainly wouldn’t look good in front of Brea if he wound up on his knees, dry-heaving. He supposed the flavor would one day grow on him. Heat blossomed, starting in his stomach and branching out, spreading from the tips of his toes to the top of his skull. He continued to drink, to suck the man’s wrist when Brea’s hand touched his forearm.
“Lick the wounds closed, Draven.”
He released his fangs, wiping the back of his hands across his wet lips and staining his flesh red. “But I’m still ravenous.”
“You’ll learn to control it.” When he didn’t do as she instructed, Brea leaned down and did it for him. “You only take what you need. We don’t hurt those who mean us no harm.”
With these two, Draven could seriously debate that issue with her. “Fine. But just so you know, you’re responsible if I’m hungry again in twenty minutes.”
She chuckled and patted his abs. “You’ll survive, big guy.”
“So what do we do with these two?”
“After I take my fill, we leave.”
“What happens to them?” Draven nodded toward the two men.
Brea shrugged. “They’ll snap out of it in about ten minutes and wonder why the hell they are in the ladies’ room by themselves. By then, we’ll be long gone.”
Chapter 15
Brea walked around the cabin, fresh from the shower, sporting a pair of light blue skinny jeans and a silky pink tank she had acquired while they were in Tijuana. They had taken a quick detour from the tavern to a twenty-four hour Walmart to purchase a few changes of clothes. The last ones had to be pretty ripe smelling as hand washing only went so far.
From where he sat on the sofa, he definitely liked the new outfit. The tips of his fangs were already punching through his gums. Draven barely had a leash on his vampire side. Brea had wanted to get on the road and all Draven wanted to do was toss her back on that bed, filthy mattress be damned.
“I can smell you, you know,” Brea said as she tossed clothes into a new backpack.
She was preparing to hit the road, had said as much on their way back to the cabin. No time for dallying.
“I showered.”
“Not that, barkeep.” She shook her head and laughed. He definitely liked the sound of it. “Your desire.”
He shrugged, not feeling the least apologetic. “Can I help it? Christ! I want to jump you. How about we fuck, then hit the road.”
Brea turned and placed her hands on her hips. Her warm smile smoothed over him like a lover’s caress, not helping his situation. “As good as that sounds, we already spent way too much time in one location. It’s only a matter of time before my godfather’s men stumble over this cabin. We’ve already pushed our luck. We needed to be on our way to Ensenada days ago. Your little plan derailed us. Of which, by the way, we still haven’t discussed. Mating is not done without the president of the Sons of Sangue’s consent. You know this.”
Draven stood and closed the distance between them. He placed his hands on her shoulders, looking down on her. His black vampire gaze reflected back at him in her brown gaze. Her words were doing nothing to cool down said desire. Razor-sharp fangs teased his lips. Damn! Hard-ons were hard enough to conceal. How did one conceal fangs?
“Fuck, Hawk,” he said, meaning it. “First of all, the pissy club P doesn’t even know about you, thanks to you and Kinky breaking those rules already. Second, I’m not a member of his precious MC, so he can’t order me around.”
“What do you intend to do then, Draven? About me … us when we get back to the states. If we make it back.”
Draven framed her face in his palms, leaned down, and slanted his lips over hers. Just a gentle meeting of lips. One to show her how he cherished her. He hoped one day she’d come around and care for him, love him even.
“We will get back, sweetheart. I won’t allow anything happen to you. Not while I draw breath.”
One of her dark brows arched. “What’s your reasoning for taking my blood without my permission, Draven? To protect me?”
“You’re pissed.”
“Yes.” She hung her head before he tipped it back up using his crooked forefinger, forcing her to look at him. “Okay, maybe not pissed. More like annoyed. I understand your motives, but what you did wasn’t right. You should’ve asked for my permission.”
“You wouldn’t have given it.”
She stood silent for a long moment. Finally, she admitted, “No, I wouldn’t have. But it would have been for your own good.”
“I get to decide what’s good for me.”
“Like you decided for me? Had you for once considered I might not have wanted to mate with you? For crying out loud, Draven, it’s for all eternity. It’s not something you decide upon lightly, or because you want to protect someone.”
Her comment stung, a low blow, though he supposed it was nothing less than he deserved. Brea’s gaze darted away, but not before he detected the moisture there. It cut him straight to the heart. No, he hadn’t considered her feelings. His actions might have been noble, but never had he thought about what would happen once they put Ensenada behind them.
Draven took a deep breath. He had been a damn selfish bastard.
“I’m sorry, Brea.” And he was. When this was over, he’d find a way to fix it. “I only meant to help, not saddle you with an unwanted mate. You deserve better after Kinky—”
“Leave Kinky out of this.” Her gaze snapped back, the sorrow replaced with anger. “He didn’t deserve me.”
“You’re right.” He ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “And you deserve better than me. I took advantage of you. Now, because of my selfish desire, you’re stuck with me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Draven.” Her gaze shifted black and her voice grew thick with her fangs. “I don’t deserve you. You took me in when you didn’t have to. You followed me to Mexico on a witch hunt. You were shot at. And now … now, you’ve become the thing you despise. All out of some mixed-up notion that I need saving.”
“Brea…”
“Let me finish, barkeep. I may be a vampire, which makes me physically stronger. But inside … emotionally? I’m a wreck. My scars you can’t see. My godfather? He wants to fuck me. How messed up is that? It’s not that I don’t want you in my world, Draven.” Brea reached up and ran a palm down his whiskered cheek. “I don’t want to screw up your world by having me in it.”
Was she for real? Before her, he’d fucked his way through endless women. Most of them, he couldn’t remember their names, let alone their faces once dawn hit. He couldn’t get in and out of their beds fast enough, and rarely had he slept with one more than once. With Brea? He couldn’t wait to get her into his bed again. Christ! He never wanted her out of it. This woman had turned his world upside down.
They may not have met under the best of circumstances, but he was damn sure glad they did. He’d never regret the day she walked into his bar, looking for Joseph. Not that he would’ve ever wished the biker dead. But because he met an untimely death, Draven had been the one to profit. And damn him, he co
uldn’t say he regretted it. He never would, regardless how damaged she thought herself to be.
Draven scented her desire, just as she had his earlier. Knowing he was the cause of that desire hardened his cock and stiffened his resolve to take her … now. Fuck the cartel. They had lasted this long without being found, they could damn well wait another hour. Draven wasn’t about to be denied.
Backing Brea to the wall behind her, he reached for the hem of her tank and yanked it over her head. Her breath caught, but she didn’t stop him. Instead, she reached for the button on his jeans, slid it from the hole and pulled down his zipper. She slipped her hand inside and wrapped her long fingers around him. Draven hissed. His balls tightened.
He leaned his forehead against hers, deftly flicking the front closure of her bra with his fingers and exposing her perky breasts. His mouth salivated. He had to taste one. Hell, his fangs ached to taste her. Lowering his head, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, toying with the tight bud with his tongue. Not able to control the urge, he sank his fangs into the soft flesh of her breasts. Brea groan, her grip on his erection tightened.
“Please, Draven.” She gasped. “Oh my…”
Her words died out as he sucked her flesh, taking his fill before he licked close the twin holes. “I need to fuck you, sweetheart. We aren’t leaving until that happens.”
“God… Please.”
Draven disentangled her grip, picked her up, and headed for the lone bedroom. He smiled down at her. “This won’t take long.”
Brea laughed. “That excited to be inside of me, barkeep?”
He winked at her. “You have no idea.”
Chapter 16
“Draven!” Brea shoved his shoulder.
Sometime after their third bout of lovemaking, they’d both fallen into an exhausted sleep. So much for getting on the road. God forbid if they dallied overlong. He rolled over and threw his arm around her waist, cocooning her into his embrace. Instead of staying where she desired, Brea slipped from his arms and slid off the bed.