by R. E. Butler
She leaned in and kissed him. “I didn’t know it could be like that,” she whispered against his mouth.
In all his centuries, he didn’t know it either. “Because we’re perfect together.”
“Careful,” she said, planting her hands on his chest and rising above him. “Compliments will get you seconds.”
His cock hardened swiftly, and she wiggled on him with a sexy smile. He wanted to pull her back down and kiss her some more, then tell her that they were beloveds and that neither of them would ever be the same. But he couldn’t resist her siren call. Promising himself that he’d talk to her after they made love this time, he let himself go into the sweet pleasures of his beloved, chasing the night from the sky with their bliss.
Chapter Five
Kelly rolled to her side and stared at Bell. He was asleep after they’d made love a third time. She felt deliciously worn out, from her head to her toes and every part in between. Every time they laid together and just talked, she wanted to tell him the truth, but he always distracted her expertly with his fingers and tongue, and she was lost to the sensations of their bodies joining again and again. She’d never been with anyone like him, and she couldn’t believe how fortunate she was to have found him.
She just hoped she wouldn’t lose him when the truth came out. At this point, she mused, she was more worried about losing him than Selma losing her job. But damn she hated hearing her sister’s name on his lips while they were making love.
A glance at the digital clock on his nightstand told her it was an hour after sunrise.
Her eyes stinging with sudden tears, she shook his shoulder a few times and waited for him to wake.
“Bell? Bell? I need to talk to you.”
He made a snorting sound but didn’t wake.
Letting out a sigh, she shook him a little more firmly. “Bellamin? We need to talk.”
“Hmmm?” he said, stirring a little, his voice groggy.
“Bell! Come on, I have to tell you something.”
He grumbled and turned to his side to face her. “I already know.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What? You already know what?”
“You’re a whore.” He yawned the last world and she wasn’t sure she’d heard it.
He hadn’t just called her a whore, had he? Shaking his shoulder, she said, “I’m a what? A whore?”
“Blood whore,” he added. “You sell your blood to anyone. I hate it.”
Everything inside her went cold and she sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest. “You hate me?”
He didn’t say anything for a few moments and she held her breath. Then he finally said, “I fucking hate it. I never wanted a blood whore for my beloved.”
“Bell, I can’t believe it, I thought you cared for me.”
“I do,” he rubbed his cheek on his pillow and let out a deep sigh. “I just hate it.”
Her heart broke as she stared down at him. The sexiest guy she’d ever met, who knew exactly how to touch her and send her into orbit, didn’t like that she was a blood whore. What did that even mean?
She was aware that he wasn’t fully awake, and she knew she should wake his butt up and tell him she didn’t appreciate what he said and how wrong he was. But she’d just gotten a glimpse of his true feelings, and he didn’t seem to have the guts to talk to her himself about his feelings toward what she was, and she didn’t think much of that. He thought less of her because he believed she sold her blood for cash, calling her a whore like a streetwalking prostitute. He was wrong, of course, because it was Selma who was food, not her.
But he didn’t get to know her truth now.
Instead of waking him, she slipped from the bed with a sniffle and found her clothes, dressing swiftly.
She faced the bed where the sexiest guy she’d ever laid eyes on had rocked her world several times. She felt hollow. “You messed up, Bell,” she said, brushing her tears from her cheeks. “Goodbye.”
Hustling from the apartment, she made her way to the lobby and outside, where the morning sun made her squint. It was a cold and lonely walk to the car, which was still parked at the club. The employee parking lot was mostly empty, and she was glad she didn’t have to worry about running into anyone.
She unlocked it and sat down on the driver’s seat. When the door was closed, she sat in the quiet car and stared at her hands as she gripped the wheel. The red ribbon was still on her wrist. A symbol of what she’d been pretending to be. She turned on the car but couldn’t make herself put it in gear.
She just cried.
* * *
Bellamin woke, reaching for Selma, wanting to snuggle with her some more. He opened his eyes when his hands touched nothing, finding the place where she’d slept empty and cold.
He sat up. “Selma?”
He canted his head and listened intently, but didn’t hear her heartbeat, which had become such an important sound to him. One that was uniquely hers.
Climbing from the bed, he moved swiftly through the apartment, but found no trace of her. No note explaining where she’d gone and why she hadn’t woken him first. There was no phone number with a promise to see him soon.
He’d expected her to be in his arms when he woke. What the hell had happened?
His mind raced as he thought about their time together. It had been astounding. He’d never felt so close to someone in all his years, and he couldn’t even really articulate how much she’d come to mean to him in a short time.
He went back to the bedroom and dressed, then glanced at the clock and realized it was still daylight and there was no way he could leave the building.
Cursing the fact he never got her number—or her damn last name—he called Denny.
“It’s still early, you know, some of us actually sleep during the day,” Denny said with an aggravated tone.
“Sorry. I was wondering if you had the contact information for the female I took home last night?”
There was a pause, and then Denny said, “I don’t think I can do that.”
“Why the hell not? She’s my mate!” Bell wanted to roar his frustration.
“Don’t shoot the messenger. Cella’s in charge of the food, and I can’t go around handing out private information without her permission. If you need that female’s information, you have to talk to the food boss.”
Bell ground his teeth until his fangs cut his tongue, breathing deeply until he felt some measure of calm. “Sorry for snapping. You’re right, I’ll check in with Cella.”
“No problem. See you after sunset, you know, when normal vampires are out and about.”
Bell said goodbye. He was tempted to dial Cella, but he didn’t want to piss off her beloved, Cyrus, so he’d have to wait until he could leave after sunset. He looked at the clock on his phone, cursed a few times, and plopped down on the couch to wait.
By the time the sun had set fully, Bell had been pacing in the lobby for an hour. He was out the door and across the street toward the club the moment he could leave. He’d hated every second of being trapped inside and unable to talk to Selma. His worry had led him to imagine a hundred different scenarios for her leaving without a trace, and none of them were good. If he’d done something that hurt or offended her, he wanted a chance to make it right. Not that he could fathom what happened.
He made his way to the offices and knocked on Cella’s door. Her head was tilted, holding her phone to her shoulder as she typed on the computer. She motioned him into the office and pointed to one of the chairs in front of the desk, but he was too keyed up to sit. Instead, he paced.
Cella cleared her throat. “Hey, Bellamin. What can I do for you?”
He turned and faced her. She was smiling curiously, her brows raised.
“I met one of your food employees last night. Her name is Selma.”
Cella’s brow furrowed and then she nodded. “Okay. What about her? Did she do something wrong?”
“No, not at all. I actually believe...” He paused, feeling li
ke an asshole even though he wasn’t sure why she split.
“You believe what?”
“That she’s my mate. My beloved.”
Cella’s brows winged up. “No kidding? Well, that’s great. But why do you look so distressed?”
Bell explained how she’d disappeared while he’d slept. He finally sank into the dainty armchair with the colorfully embroidered seat that creaked with his weight. “I have no idea what happened. She didn’t give me any clue that she was going to leave. I went to sleep expecting her to be there when I woke, and she wasn’t. No note. Nothing.”
Cella was silent, her blue gaze intent on him. Then she leaned back in her chair and twisted back and forth a few times. “Why did you come to me?”
“I need her phone number. Or her address.”
“You know I can’t give that to you.”
“Why the hell not?”
When she narrowed her eyes at his outburst, he put his hands up. “Sorry. I mean, she’s my beloved. Why can’t you tell me how to get in touch with her?”
“Because we don’t give out personal information on our employees, no matter the situation. I’m honestly sorry if this frustrates you, but why didn’t you get her number in the first place?”
He shrugged, helplessness settling on him. “I didn’t think I’d need to get her number until after we were up tonight.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you asked for, even if she is your beloved. But she knows where you work and live, so you’ll just have to hope that she comes looking for you. If you’re really beloveds, I believe it’ll happen. Even for a human, I’d think it would be hard for her to stay away from you for too long.”
He fucking hoped so. “Can you at least tell me when she’s working next?”
“If she doesn’t want anything to do with you, I need to know that you’re not going to make a scene.”
“I promise.”
She turned to the computer and after a few moments, said, “She’s working on Tuesday. If she shows up, that is.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s on thin ice. Lots of missed shifts and lame excuses. Denny said she was late last night by several hours but had called and said she had car trouble so I’m giving her a pass. But if it happens again, she’s gone. Did you feed from her?”
He shook his head. “I planned to once we were awake tonight. I wanted to be certain she fully understood about us being beloveds before I marked and mated her fully. It wouldn’t be fair to change her like that without making sure she got what it all meant. Thanks, Cella.”
“Good luck.”
He turned to leave but paused and looked at Cella. “If she happens to call you and ask for my number or address, please give it to her.”
Cella nodded. “Of course.”
He left her office and headed to reception, nodding at Dylan who was at his post outside the door.
“Damn, you look like hell,” he said as Bell took up the other post.
“Thanks,” he said, dryly.
“Sorry, it’s true, though. What’s up?”
Bell opened his mouth to tell him about the events of the previous night but decided he just didn’t want to rehash what happened again. He was distraught all the way to the center of his being, and he didn’t think he’d feel right until he saw Selma again and figured out why she split. The scenario in his mind he wanted to be right was that she’d gotten an emergency call from a family member and left in such a hurry she didn’t realize she hadn’t left a note for him. But that seemed a little farfetched, even though he very much hoped it was true.
He looked over at Dylan. “It was just a long day.”
Dylan nodded. “You want me to get someone to cover for you?”
Bell really didn’t want to work because he was consumed with Selma, but he knew the best place for him to be was the club in case she came looking for him. “Nah, I’m fine.”
Angie, a wolf shifter and beloved mate to Vex and Rage, opened the door and greeted them. “Cella has people coming in to interview for the food manager position. They should start arriving soon.”
“No problem,” Dylan said.
Bell nodded at Angie and smiled, even though he didn’t really feel like it.
Where the hell was Selma?
Chapter Six
Kelly cried the entire way home, her heart in a million pieces. Half of her wanted to go back to the apartment and wake Bellamin to tell him what an asshole he was for thinking humans who sold their blood to vampires were whores. She wanted to rail at him, explain how wrong he was about her but also that she wouldn’t be with a guy who thought her sister was a prostitute for trying to make a living. It was utterly ridiculous that a vampire—who depended on humans for blood—would think less of the person who gave them what they needed.
The infuriating part was that she just wanted to see him, to be with him, to get some more kisses from him. Amazing, addictive kisses.
She’d shoved that needy part of her away, focusing on the furious woman who wouldn’t tolerate anyone picking on her little sister. She’d firmly refused to turn the car around and go back to him. No matter how much her heart ached, she couldn’t be with someone who thought so little of her. It didn’t matter that he was wrong because she wasn’t really food. It mattered that he didn’t tell her what he thought in the first place and had instead let her believe he cared for her.
Turning off the engine, she sighed and opened the car door. She trudged to the apartment and unlocked the front door. The two-bedroom townhouse had a cute front porch that Kelly liked to decorate for the holidays and was spacious enough inside to give her and Selma space. Once she was inside, she dropped her purse on the stool at the counter and walked into the kitchen. She was starving. She hadn’t been able to eat anything before she went to the club because her nerves had been so bad. And then she’d been fully distracted by Bellamin. It wasn’t until she was on the way to her apartment that the hunger pangs set in.
She picked a strawberry banana smoothie from the shelf and cracked the lid, taking a few swallows of the overly sweet drink. Toeing off her heels, she wiggled her aching toes and apologized to her tootsies for putting them through a night of being pinched. Once she’d finished the drink and her hunger was assuaged enough for now, she took a shower and scrubbed the makeup off her face. She had only a few hours before she needed to be at the bookstore. It was tempting to call Margot and ask for the day off to sleep, but Kelly knew she wouldn’t sleep much. Her mind was spinning over the events of the night, and her heart was aching.
As she made her way from the bathroom to the bed, she heard a knock on her bedroom door.
“You’re home late,” Selma said as she opened the door.
“Yeah.”
Kelly climbed into bed and opened the nightstand, rummaging inside until she found a sleep mask to help block out the morning light through the blinds.
“Everything okay? You look like you’ve been crying. Did someone hurt you?”
Kelly really didn’t want to tell her sister what happened. She didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. It would be easier if she could just forget the sexy vampire who stole her heart and then broke it all in the same night.
“No one hurt me, and no one asked me to feed them. I was just wondering...”
“Wondering what?” Selma prompted.
“Do vampires look down on you for being food?”
Selma straightened from where she was leaning against the doorjamb. “Not usually. I mean, vampires must drink human blood to live. They can only use synthetic blood for a week before it stops satisfying their needs. Some of the older vampires think of themselves as being superior to humans, so they’ll look down on us. But no matter how old they are or what their opinion is of the profession of blood selling, it doesn’t change that they need us.”
“Has anyone ever said to you that they think of food as being prostitutes?” Kelly toyed with the edge of the blanket as she thought about Bel
lamin’s sleepy words.
“Wow, no. That’s kind of harsh. But I guess true in a sense.”
“You’re not a whore for selling your blood,” Kelly said.
“No, I don’t think I am. But I’m saying that a vampire might think of food like that. I’ve never heard anyone say that, though, but then again a vampire wouldn’t want to alienate themselves from their source of nourishment, so if they feel that way, they would keep it to themselves.”
Kelly sighed. “Your job is still intact, so you’re safe from being fired. But don’t ask me to fill in for you again.”
“I won’t, I promise.” Selma looked at her for a quiet moment. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Positive. I’m just exhausted and I don’t have a lot of time to rest before I have to go to work.”
“You should call off.”
“I don’t want to. I like being at the bookstore.”
“All right. I’ll let you get some sleep. Thanks again for taking my place.”
“You’re welcome.”
Slipping the sleep mask over her eyes, Kelly set an alarm, and then turned on a white noise app on her phone. She set the phone on the mattress next to the pillow and settled under the covers, firmly instructing her subconscious to devote no more time at all to the subject of vampires, food, or sexy men named Bellamin.
She hoped her brain listened to her.
* * *
“You look like hell, dear,” Margot said when Kelly walked into the bookstore at ten.
“Thanks,” Kelly said, dryly. She took a drink of coffee—her third cup of the morning. No amount of concealer under her eyes had disguised the dark circles that her lack of sleep had left her with. Despite her best intentions, she’d been unable to turn off her mind and had spent the hours she was supposed to be resting thinking about a certain sexy dark-haired vampire.
“Are the dark circles from a fun night or crying?” Margot folded her arms over her chest and watched Kelly stow her bag under the counter and hang her coat from the rack by the door.