He’d wanted her warm skin beneath his hands, her legs wrapped around his waist, her mouth soft and open beneath his own. He’d followed her upstairs, and he hadn’t come down for days. He’d ended up staying so long he’d almost been declared AWOL by his commanding officer.
Not that he’d cared.
Everything else—his family, his passion, his duty—had ceased to exist when he’d stared into Viv’s blue eyes. He’d been hooked. Infatuated. Mesmerized.
Because she was a vampire.
He hadn’t known then.
Sure, he’d seen the signs.
Her usually blue eyes had seemed purple at times, green at other times. She’d been stronger than most women, uncorking her own whiskey bottles and dealing with drunken brawlers all by herself. And, of course, her aversion to sunlight. But she’d been a saloon whore, plying her trade all night and sleeping all day, and so he hadn’t thought much about it.
He’d fallen hard and fast, and he hadn’t been able to pick himself back up. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to.
She’d been the first thing he’d thought of when he’d opened his eyes every morning and the last thing when he’d closed them at night.
He’d even imagined her there at the end, leaning over him as he’d sprawled facedown on the ground, his blood seeping out into the dirt. Her scent had filled his head. Her soft, silky hair had brushed his temple. And just like that, he’d been distracted from the pain and suffering of the knife wounds.
A hallucination, of course.
He’d been miles away from the saloon when he’d been attacked by a group of Mexican bandits, robbed and left for dead.
An easy target for the vampire who’d come along to finish the job.
He could still remember the presence looming over his wounded body, the strong hand gripping his hair and yanking his head back, the razor-sharp fangs piercing his throat.
One minute he’d been hanging onto his life by a thread and the next, the line had snapped. Death had taken him, only to spit him back out when the vampire had rolled him over and drip-dropped his own blood into Garret’s mouth.
Garret hadn’t even caught a glimpse of his sire. He’d been too weak to see more than a shadow looming over him.
Seconds later, he’d been alone, sprawled on the ground without a clue as to what had just happened. Until daybreak arrived and the first rays of sunlight topped the horizon.
The past pushed and pulled, snatching him from the here and now and luring him back to the morning of his turning.
He fought against the pain gripping him and forced his eyes open. He felt cold. So cold. His teeth chattered, and his body shook. He stared through blurry eyes. Orange topped the trees, promising warmth and a rush of relief went through him. Now he would warm up.
In…just…a…few…seconds…
A shaft of light fell across his face, and pain sliced clear to his bones. A hiss worked its way up his throat as he jerked his head to the side. The heat slashed across his shoulders, and he scrambled away. He staggered to his feet. Pain beat at his temples as the light cracked at his body like a red hot whip.
He stumbled for the trees, but they weren’t enough to shield him completely. His skin burned and sizzled and he moved deeper into the forest. Light filtered down through the branches, stabbing him at every step. The pungent scent of charred flesh clogged his nostrils and choked him. Smoke burned his eyes, blurring his vision as he glanced around, frantic for a place to hide.
Another shaft of light broke through the trees, and he dodged to the left. His foot came up against a rock and he pitched forward, landing facedown on the ground. Clawing at the ground, he pushed until he managed to lift his head. A black hole loomed in front of him.
He dug his fingers into the dirt and pulled himself forward, over sharp rocks and prickly cactus until he managed to crawl inside. He went deeper, deeper, until the light disappeared and he found himself sheltered in the dark, cool interior.
Heaven.
That’s what Garret had thought. The deep, narrow cave had been his shelter. His salvation.
But over the next several hours as the hunger had taken full control, the small space had turned into his own personal hell, a place where he’d fought a losing battle for his soul.
It was a battle that had lasted several days, as Garret remained hidden away in the cave, resisting the bloodlust and trying to come to terms with what he’d become.
Meanwhile, Viv had been back at the saloon, seducing any and every cowboy who’d walked in. Talking them into drinks. Luring them back to her room. Spreading her legs and opening her arms.
Deceiving them the way she’d deceived him.
The realization had come when he’d finally given in to the hunger and left the cave. He’d gone back to town in search of food. But before he’d sank his fangs into anyone, he’d gone to the saloon first. He’d meant to explain things to her, to beg for her help and her understanding.
But she’d already understood because she was every bit the vampire he’d become.
Even so, he’d thought that she still felt something for him. Something that went beyond the bloodlust and the need for sex.
Love.
He’d been wrong.
“I can’t be with you like this. Not now. Not ever again.”
He could still hear her voice as she’d turned her back and walked away from him.
She’d left him because he’d become a vampire who could see through her lies. A vampire who could no longer give her the sustenance she needed—the sexual energy—because he needed it for himself.
And so she’d abandoned him to find someone else to feed the beast that lived and breathed inside of her.
As for love…She hadn’t loved him, and he hadn’t really loved her. He’d been mesmerized by her, seduced by her vamp magic like any other weak human.
But he wasn’t susceptible to her now.
Even if he did have an aching hard-on.
“What do you say?” The soft voice pushed into his thoughts and pulled him back to the present. To the smoke-filled bar and the horny woman sitting next to him. “Would you, um, like to come back to my place?”
Yes.
The answer was there on the tip of his tongue despite his self-made vow. He needed her. To ease the pain inside his body, feed the hunger and fill him with a burst of energy.
He felt so tired at that moment.
So damned hungry.
His gaze hooked on the lipstick imprint on her glass again, and his chest tightened. “I’m afraid I’m a little busy right now.” He slid several bills onto the counter and reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels. “But you have a nice night, sugar.” He turned and left her staring longingly after him.
Because even more than Garret Sawyer needed to feed, suddenly he needed to forget.
The dark hair.
The true blue eyes.
The luscious body and fragrant skin.
The damned voice that echoed over and over in his head “I can’t be with you like this.”
And so he sank down at the nearest table, touched the open bottle to his lips and did what he hadn’t done since Viv Darland had walked out on him all those years ago.
He started to drink.
And he didn’t stop.
4
“HOW’S THIS?”
“Move a little to the right,” Viv told the short, balding, forty-six-year-old man who stood behind the counter of Skull Creek’s one and only motel.
It was two hours since she’d left the Iron Horseshoe, and she was desperate for a distraction. Something to pass the time and get her mind off Garret and the anticipation bubbling inside of her.
Enter Eldin Atkins.
He was the owner of the Skull Creek Inn and, more importantly, the oldest bachelor in town. He’d inherited both the motel and his grandmother, Winona, when his parents had retired to a small fishing port on the Gulf Coast. Eldin made all the reservations and looked after Winona while she puttered around, stra
ightening rooms and poking her nose in everyone’s business.
Or so Viv had heard from the waitress over at the diner.
Since Winona did most of her nosing around during the day when Viv had her door barricaded and her shades drawn, she’d yet to run into the old woman.
Eldin was a different story altogether.
The minute Viv had mentioned that she was a photo journalist, he’d gone above and beyond the call of duty to make her stay as memorable as possible.
He’d brought fresh towels every morning and had even upgraded her room for free. She now occupied the one and only deluxe suite with a full-size bathroom and a kitchenette.
Not that she needed the latter, but Eldin didn’t know that. He was just out to attract as much attention as possible because he’d already tried every on-line dating service in the free world, and he still hadn’t had any luck with the opposite sex.
He was hoping like hell that some poor, lonely female read the travel article, saw his picture and realized that, despite his thinning hair, introverted personality and live-in grandmother, he was a halfway decent catch.
He didn’t wear women’s underwear (not since Double Dog Dare Ya night back in the tenth grade) and he didn’t suck his teeth and—and this was the biggee—he had his own business.
Sort of.
Technically, his parents still owned the place, but once they kicked the bucket, the Inn would be Eldin’s free and clear.
Well, his and Winona’s, but his grammy was already older than dirt, so how much longer could she actually last?
Bottom line, he wasn’t such a bad guy. The article would be a prime opportunity to show the single women of the southwest (and a few east coast states where the travel mag had been picked up) all that he had to offer.
Tonight he wore an orange Hawaiian-print shirt, beige walking shorts and a pair of tan boat shoes with tube socks. He had a king-sized Snickers bar in his left shirt pocket and a Slim Jim in the right.
“You’re going to put my e-mail address in the article, right?” he asked. “Just in case somebody is of a mind to reach me? For a room, that is.”
Or, more importantly, a date.
“E-mail and snail mail,” Viv promised. “Say cheese.”
“Wait a second.” Eldin slicked his eyebrows down, threw his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. One hand paused on the wall of room keys and the other gave a little salute. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“So, Eldin,” Viv said as she checked the shutter on her camera, “do you always stand that way when you’re checking someone in?”
He seemed to think before letting out a deep breath. “’Course not.” He switched angles and struck the same pose. “I usually stand like this on account of it’s my good side,” he said, his words tight as he tried to suck in his sizeable beer belly. “Go on,” he gasped. “Shoot.”
Viv snapped a few pictures before pausing to check the shots on her digital screen.
“Where do you want me next?” Eldin asked after gasping for several deep breaths. “Over by the fireplace? I could build a fire. I know how.”
“That’s good to know. And I would take you up on it in a heartbeat…” Viv checked her flash. “…if it wasn’t ninety plus degrees outside.”
“Forget the fire. I’ll just hold a few chunks of wood. Maybe I should take my shirt off to look like I’ve been out chopping all day—”
“No,” she cut in, desperate to ignore the sudden image of Eldin shirtless. “These are supposed to be action shots. A day in the life of stuff.” She stared deep into his eyes to press her point home. “That means natural.”
He looked confused for a split-second before he seemed to relax. “Let me just straighten the magazines here like I do every night on account of my granny and her dad-burned group are always messing things up. Why, it takes days to get this lobby back to normal after one of her danged meetings.”
“Shame on you for talking about an old lady,” said a crackling voice as an ancient-looking woman walked from the back room.
She wore a purple flower-print dress, white orthopedic shoes and knee-high panty hose. She had a shock of white hair curled into tight sausages that covered her head like a football helmet. Bifocals hung from a chain around her neck and sat low on her nose.
“If I was a few years younger,” she continued as she deposited a cardboard box on the counter and wagged a finger at Eldin, “I’d take a skillet to your hind end. Just pay him no nevermind,” she turned to Viv. “He hates my meetings because he has to give up the TV and bide his time until we’re finished.”
“You took three hours last time,” Eldin whined. “I missed Grey’s Anatomy and So You Think You Can Dance.”
“You watch too much TV. You ought to be doing other things with your time.”
“Like what?”
“The front walkway needs power washing.”
“But that’ll take hours.”
“That’s the idea.”
“But I been standing all day. My feet hurt.”
“That’s ’cause you’re putting on too much weight.” She snatched the Snickers bar out of his pocket. “Steer clear of the snack machine, and you won’t have such a big gut puttin’ so much pressure on your tootsies. Why, I been standing over eighty years, and my feet don’t hurt a bit.”
“But that’s my dessert.” Eldin eyed the candy bar in her hand. “Dessert is one of the four basic food groups.”
“Is not.”
“Is too. There’s fruit, potatoes, steak and dessert. A man needs all of ’em if he wants to keep up his stamina.”
The old woman seemed to soften as she eyed him. “I s’pose you’ll need your energy to handle that power washer.” She handed the candy bar back to him. “Take it and skedaddle.” She waved a hand and motioned him out. “My students will be here in less than fifteen minutes. I’m Winona Atkins,” she added, turning to Viv. “Are you the one who called yesterday about joining my group?”
“I’m afraid not. I’m a guest. Room 12.”
“You’re the one from California? The one with the flashy sports car?”
“Guilty.”
She seemed to think. “Had me a little Pinto once. It wasn’t much too look at, but my husband—rest his soul—souped up the engine for me. It was the fastest ride in town. Faster than that old Mustang Merle Shanks used to hot rod around in, I’ll tell you that much.” She opened the edges of the cardboard box. One shriveled hand dove into the box, and she pulled out an enormous purple vibrator—
Oh, no, she didn’t.
Viv blinked, but sure enough it was purple, it was a vibrator and it was enormous. A neon blue version followed. Then an orange. A yellow. Pink. Aqua.
“What exactly does your group do?” Viv asked as she watched the old woman unpack the box as nonchalantly as if she were setting out crochet needles instead of sex toys.
“A little of this. A little of that.” Winona shrugged. “Tonight we’re learning how to give a blowjob without biting. We’re also going to talk about how to respond when your partner approaches you about a blow job, or vice versa. You’d be surprised how many gals just ain’t that good when it comes to tellin’ their men what they want.”
Tell me about it.
“So it’s like a self help class to overcome shyness?”
“It’s a class to pull the stick out of your ass.”
Viv couldn’t help but smile. While the old woman had plenty of snow on the roof, she was all fire and spunk inside.
“I teach women how to loosen up and relax,” Winona continued, “so’s that they can enrich their relationships with their fellas. It’s all about using what you got to spice things up and keep your man screaming for more. I’m a carnal coach. Coach Winona.” She pulled a penis-shaped name tag out of her pocket and pinned it to the front of her dress.
“We also have refreshments,” she added. “Mary Lou’s bringing her famous pigs-in-a-blanket and Jennie Sue’s making a coffee cake. I’m even baking a few batche
s of pleasure bites to get everyone feeling frisky. They’re small, round little tastes of heaven made primarily of the one thing no sexually repressed woman can resist.”
Viv arched an eyebrow. “Chocolate?”
“Alcohol.” Winona adjusted her glasses. “See, I’ve got a lot of introverts in my class, like poor, timid Ellen Jenkins—she’s the local librarian. That woman won’t even send her hamburger back when they load it with ketchup instead of mustard. She sure as shootin’ can’t work up the nerve to tell Oren—that’s her husband—that he’s just not satisfying her in the sack. So instead of calling him out, she joined my class. She figured if she got better at doin’ it, then she could make up for what he lacked. I had my doubts about that. Oren wasn’t the best-looking catfish in the pond, and so the girls never paid him no nevermind growing up. He’s definitely a plate short of a place setting when it comes to physical relations. But Ellen paid her registration in full, and I wasn’t one to argue with cold hard cash. Anyhow, sober she could barely sit through a lecture without blushing. A few pleasure bites, and she all but fought me for the pole when I did my strip-your-way-into-his-heart seminar.”
“They sound very effective.”
“And pretty darned tasty. You really ought to sit in tonight and try a few for yourself. You might even pick up some pointers on how to be more sexy.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m going to reveal my ten Do-Me-Baby Commandments after we finish blow jobs. It’s a special list I put together over the past few months based on my own experience as a vibrant, sexually active woman.” When Viv looked doubtful, she added, “Back in the day, that is. I’m not nearly as sexually active as I should be right now on account of I’m still pining for my late husband.”
That and she was still waiting on Morty Donovan to haul his carcass out of his rocking chair and ask her for a date. Morty was in charge of Bingo over at the senior center. He also had the whitest dentures in town because his grandson was a cosmetic dentist, and Morty got free bleaching with every visit.
“If you can manage to learn all ten of them,” Winona said, “there ain’t a man alive who’ll be able to resist you.”
Love at First Bite Bundle Page 42