After Dark

by Gena Showalter

  Shit. She would not be sticking around for long. Only long enough for him to ensure that she wasn’t chasing vamps anymore, that she was safe.

  He’d already done enough to Tiffany. If she stuck around, things would only end with him ruining her life even more.

  He glanced in her direction. She was staring out the window at the city lights. Her lips had tasted like warm brown sugar when they’d kissed. His gaze lowered to her sweet behind, and the thought of cupping her ass in his hands before he trailed kisses over the porcelain skin of her neck sent a shiver down his spine.

  Damn. He ripped his eyes away from her. He would not think about her no matter how deliciously round her ass was or how perfectly ample her breasts were.

  Dead body. Dead body. Dead body.

  He looked at the corpse lying on his counter. That was enough to act as a cold bucket of water for anyone. Pushing Tiffany from his mind, he stared down at the dead man’s insides. What was it about the latest victims that caused vampires to act like zombies, going for flesh and not just blood? Why were they eating these people? And the way the new vampire in the alley had guarded this man’s body screamed of a predator protecting its prey.

  No. Leeches were leeches.

  Once a human was drained, they moved on. Wham, bam, thank you, human. Aside from Hosts, leeches didn’t stick around and play with their food. As much as he hated the relationship, at least Hosts served a purpose. Better a couple pints low than dead, though most Hosts drove themselves to that, anyway. But in all his years of hunting them, he’d never seen a single vampire interested in anything but blood—until now.

  From the look of the man’s insides, there was nothing unusual about his blood or his organs. Damon pulled latex gloves from one of the kitchen drawers and slipped them over his hands. He reached inside the open cavity of the man’s midsection and moved around several organs, searching for anything even remotely unusual that would cause a vampire to behave uncharacteristically.

  Nothing. No tumors or anything out of the ordinary.

  Damon removed his hands from the chest cavity. He pulled at the edge of his glove, ready to be done with his examination, then paused. Something in his gut told him it was worth checking inside the man’s organs, as well.

  He reached deep into the man’s body and began to palpate the organs. He bit his lip as his hands squished against the soft tissue. How the hell did morticians and coroners manage to do this for a living? Then again, how did he manage to kill for his?

  When he finally reached the man’s kidneys he used the scalpel to extract one. The organ was already cold. Carefully, he slid the scalpel through the spongy tissue.

  A loud hiss filled the room. Something vile poured from the kidney, and heat like liquid fire washed over his hand. He ripped the glove off just in time for the greenish liquid to eat through the latex like acid. A putrid smell hit his nose, and bile burned at the back of his throat. Drawn by the noise and the stink, Tiffany came running over from the window.

  The damn mess was like a sixth grade science fair project gone wrong, one of those spewing volcanoes every kid built at least once. He hardly noticed Tiffany running off and rummaging in the fridge. A second later, white powder clouded the air as she dumped an entire box of baking soda on top of the acid.

  “What the hell was that?” she demanded.

  Coughing from the soda cloud, he tossed his gloves in the kitchen garbage can, chuckling. “Overkill on the baking soda much?”

  She frowned. “For all you know that could have exploded and I saved your sorry ass. Now, what the hell happened?”

  He dusted baking soda from his clothing, not that it did much good with all the blood already there. “There’s something wrong with the kidney fluids.”

  “Ya think?” She stared at the rest of the green acid oozing from the dead man’s kidney.

  A smile crossed his face. He had to give her credit. Even though he knew she was probably fighting not to toss her cookies, she was standing there like a champ.

  He appreciated a strong woman.

  She wrinkled her nose. “That’s just disgusting. What is that? Maybe you should check the other organs, too.”

  Putting on a new pair of gloves, he held the man’s heart carefully, preparing to jab it with the scalpel. Just as he got ready to slice, the corpse lurched.

  Shit!

  Damon jumped back as the now newly turned vampire sat upright, hissing and reaching for Damon’s neck. How the hell had the thing changed so quickly? Before he could respond, Tiffany plunged her stake deep into the monster’s exposed heart. One high-pitched screech pierced his ears before the vampire exploded like the blood sack it was.

  Blood splashed onto his face and throughout his kitchen.

  He looked at Tiffany, who smiled despite all the blood she was covered in. “I told you I could hold my own.”

  Damon narrowed his stare. “Sometimes.” He pointed to the stairs. “You can use the shower upstairs. Toss your clothes over the balcony and I’ll throw them in the washer.”

  “You don’t need to ask me twice.”

  Stake still in hand, she trudged up the stairs. A minute later a large pile of bloody clothes flew over the balcony rail and landed on his hardwood floor with a splat. He quickly threw them in the washer, trying not to think about how deliciously naked she was, about the hot shower water running over the curves of her body. He pushed the thoughts aside.

  Down, boy. Focus.

  With any luck, he would at least be able to get most of the blood out of their clothes. He glanced down at his own threads. He was covered in blood and dirt, but there was no point in changing before he finished cleaning up.

  He reached under his kitchen sink and removed a mop and bucket, a sponge and a gallon of bleach. It was times like these when he wished he wasn’t too paranoid to employ a maid.

  Not that your average housecleaner could handle a kitchen resembling a horror movie.

  CHAPTER 6

  An hour later he’d thoroughly scrubbed down the kitchen, returning it to a near sparkling clean. He would give it another going over later. Right now he needed a shower. Using the downstairs bathroom, he scrubbed all the blood, guts and debris from his body. When he finished, he wrapped his hips in a towel, threw his own clothes in the washer and padded up the stairs to his bedroom.

  Water from the shower pummeled the tiled floor, sounding like heavy rain. He didn’t blame Tiffany for the extra-long shower. When you washed the blood off, no matter how clean you got, sometimes you still felt dirty.

  He finished drying off and threw the white towel into the laundry bin. He slipped on a pair of old loose-fitting jeans, zipped and buttoned the fly, then reached into the top of his closet for a black shirt. Tiffany cleared her throat from behind him.

  Still shirtless, he turned around. The breath caught in his throat, and every inch of him stiffened. His erection was immediate. She was standing in the middle of his bedroom, still slightly damp from the shower, one of his towels wrapped around her. It took all the strength in him not to rip the towel from her body and take her on top of his bed. Thinking about what was underneath that towel would be the death of him.

  He watched as Tiffany scanned the length of his body and a look of hunger filled her eyes. She inhaled a deep breath, and he admired the rise and fall of her chest. Her every movement exuded raw sexuality. If she looked at him that way much longer...

  Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I knew you were with the Execution Underground.”

  He nearly swore. Damn. She’d seen the E.U. brand on his shoulders, a variation of the symbol Mark and every other hunter had. It marked them as humans with something more—their incredible strength, their speed, their fighting abilities. Each member was branded with his own unique symbol upon graduating the Execution Underground training.

/>   A sad smile crept across her lips. “I like your design more than the one my brother, Mark, had.” She continued to stare at the floor. “The first time he came home after he got his, he flaunted it as if it were a badge of honor. The purple heart of tattoolike brandings.”

  Damon froze at the sound of his best friend’s name. He let out a long breath through his nose. She couldn’t know he was responsible for her brother’s death—and worse. His jaw clenched. She couldn’t know that he was going to have to kill Mark all over again.

  She shifted from one foot to the other nervously. He admired the sway of her hips and immediately cursed himself. She was Mark’s baby sister. It didn’t matter if she was twenty-two, or that she was her own independent woman, that he’d known her for years—he owed it to her brother’s memory to stay away, to keep his hands off. Not to mention that he needed to stay objective, detached from his mission if he was going to complete it successfully. And how could he be detached while sexing up the sister of the man he was avenging?

  The sound of a car horn down in the street brought him back to reality. He would have to gouge out his eyes and break his eardrums to avoid wanting her. Her looks, the sound of her voice, her scent... She drew him in like a siren.

  She broke the silence. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it awkward, like I was being creepy and sneaking a peek at your emblem. I know your vow to the Execution Underground is kind of a personal thing, so it’s none of my business. Anyway, uh...do you have a blow-dryer?”

  If he hadn’t been too busy raking his eyes over the gorgeous hourglass figure beneath the towel, he would have chuckled. He ran his fingers over his buzz cut. “I don’t have much hair to dry.”

  She met his eyes quickly, then lowered her own gaze to the floor again. “Do you have any more towels, then?”

  He pointed to the bathroom. “Under the sink.”

  She hunched her shoulders, curling in on herself as if she were embarrassed to stand before him, barely covered. “I didn’t see any.”

  Exercising every bit of self-control possible, he walked past her to the bathroom. He reached under the sink, feeling for the stray towels. Finally he found one tucked far in the back corner. He pulled it out, stood and turned, ready to take it to her, only to find her standing directly behind him. Her large amber eyes examined his torso again, lingering on the line of highly defined muscles leading from his chest to his hips.

  He couldn’t resist. “Like what you see?” he said playfully.

  The deep red blush that bloomed across her face sent his heart racing into overdrive, and he knew that if she dropped her gaze she would see his excitement.

  “Sorry,” she said, starting to turn away.

  He held the towel out toward her. “Don’t be.”

  She reached for the towel, and her soft, delicate fingers brushed against his hand. She met his eyes and stared up at him, her expression innocent and perfect. She bit her lower lip. He thought of the perfect taste of her mouth on his own. Being honest with himself, he had to admit that she’d tasted delicious when he’d kissed her, just like he’d always dreamed she would.

  Another blush crossed her cheeks. She glanced toward the floor before she met his gaze again. Her desire was palpable. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t hold back any longer.

  * * *

  The fiery look in Damon’s normally icy-blue eyes sent Tiffany’s heart thumping hard against her chest. He stepped toward her. She didn’t care if she didn’t know him. He was handsome, strong, intelligent—and dangerous. Dangerous to the monsters they hunted. Dangerous to her. Her mind, her heart. And worse, he was hell-bent on protecting her. For a woman who’d been on her own for so long, been alone for so long, here, finally, was a man who knew her secrets. Understood her on a level no one else ever had. No one except B.

  And, boy, did that spark a fire inside her.

  He reached out and toyed with the edge of her towel. She wanted him, and from the look in his eyes, he wanted her, too.

  She balled up her courage and dropped the towel to the floor.

  Within seconds he was pressing her against the tiling of the shower as his lips met hers. The delicious masculine taste of him flooded her mouth as he kissed her deeply. No one else had ever kissed her, but there was no doubt that Damon’s abilities were mind-blowing. His tongue danced with hers in sensual, soft movements.

  Gently, he suckled on her lower lip. She moaned and bucked her hips against him. Heat rushed to her center. Every inch of her body longed for a man’s touch, for Damon’s touch. She ran her hands over his shoulders and onto his strong muscled chest. Her fingers crossed the hard ridges of his abs before her hand slipped into his jeans.

  A growl rumbled in his throat as she stroked the length of him, feeling the power that came from touching him, knowing she was pleasuring him. His lips trailed from her mouth, and he nestled his head beside her neck so he could kiss the sensitive skin of her collarbone. Shivers rolled down her spine.

  His hands slipped behind her back and cupped her ass, then lifted her with ease so her hips were up against him. He pulled back from her neck, taking in the view of her naked form. Supporting her with one arm, he trailed his hand along her skin and down to the juncture of her thighs. A wave of excitement rushed over her. No one had ever touched her there before. Should she tell him?

  His warm hand nestled between her legs, and he rubbed his fingers in slow circles over her most sensitive flesh. She moaned, and a fresh wave of heat flooded her. His fingers were covered with her sweetness. She was so wet. Should she be embarrassed? He met her eyes and slipped his fingers into his mouth, licking off her nectar. A deep moan escaped his lips. She nearly moaned herself, to know he liked that....

  He lowered his hand between her legs again and massaged her. Fire coursed through her body, warming her in a way she hadn’t known was possible. The last of the water drops from her shower dripped onto her skin. The coolness sizzled against her in an amazing sensation.

  He placed his cheek against hers, his mouth trailing sweet kisses up to her ear. The heat of his breath sent waves of electricity rolling through her body.

  He gently nipped at her earlobe. “You taste so sweet.”

  Still supporting her with one arm, he captured her hand in his and led her fingers down to the button of his jeans. She knew what he wanted. She inhaled a deep breath. She wanted him more than anything imaginable. She was ready for this. Leaning forward, she undid his jeans and his pants fell to his ankles, revealing the hard strong length of him.

  She fought back a gasp. He was enormous, and the thought of him plunging deep inside her sent both chills and fear racing through her body. Kissing her deeply again, he placed himself just outside the entrance to her body. Adrenaline and excitement overwhelmed her as the pressure increased.

  She pulled back from his kiss. “Damon, wait,” she whispered.

  He stopped immediately and met her eyes.

  “I...I...” she stammered. As tough as she was, she was no tigress in the bedroom—not yet.

  “It’s all right, Tiffany, we can stop. I don’t want to pressure you if you don’t want—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “I want to.” Her eyes trailed over the length of his body again. Her desire for him surged and built the courage inside her. She inhaled a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. “I’m a virgin.”

  Damon’s eyes widened.

  She bit back a groan. Did he not want her now that he knew she was so inexperienced? She could tell from his raw sexuality and strong confidence that he’d known his fair share of women. A large lump rose in her throat, and her eyes welled with tears.

  With his thumb he wiped away the tears from her eyes. Then he stroked his knuckles over her jawline, and a slight purr sounded from his throat. His sweet smile told her that he was sincere. “I’ll be gentle with you.”<
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  Before she could respond, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom. He laid her out on the bed. The soft mattress engulfed her in a sea of black sheets. His eyes drank her in. She marveled at the sight of him kneeling over her.

  He ran his fingers over her thighs, and she shivered. “So, you’ve never been with anyone before?”

  She shook her head.

  For a brief moment, she worried what he thought of her. Twenty-two wasn’t too old to still be a virgin, was it? But all her nerves subsided and were replaced with excitement when she saw the ravenous hunger in his eyes.

  “I promise you, I’ll be gentle, and I’ll make certain it won’t hurt.” He slid off her and knelt near her feet. He pushed her legs open, and his lips trailed kisses and soft caresses up the insides of her thighs. Her heart quickened.

  Before she could prepare herself, he ran the length of his tongue over her lower lips. He massaged and sucked the sensitive flesh.

  Tiffany threw her head back and moaned. Electricity radiated from her center, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. She bucked against him. Her spine arched as heat pulsed through her core.

  He teased her with his mouth until she reached the brink of ecstasy, faster than she’d ever expected. With one more hard pull from his lips, sweet release hit her hard and fast. She clasped her hands around his head, riding his face as he tasted her.

  She gasped for air when he released her. He smiled from between her legs and licked his lips. The look in his eyes was enough to make any woman want him between her bedsheets.

  White hot need crashed over her. She wanted more. She moaned. Oh, she wanted so much more.

  “Damon, can you do that a—”

  A grin crossed his face, and he chuckled. “You don’t need to ask me twice.”

  * * *

  Damon latched his mouth onto her and savored the moment. He could drown in the taste of her, the scent of her. She was divine. He hardened with need as he pleasured her with his mouth. He wanted to be inside her, losing himself in the softness of her.