“Is there any chance the woman you gave the phone number to might have given it to the guy who was found dead in your office?” he asked.
Still no kiss? Argh! “I don’t know,” she snapped, revealing her frustration. “I mean, I didn’t see them together. But I was busy. There were so many people.” What did he expect? She’d stood facing a wall of men and women demanding beer for hours before running back to her office for a pen. Got tired of having to borrow one from the waitresses every few seconds. Nobody paid with cash anymore.
Now, would he kiss her, for God’s sake? She blinked her eyes open just in time to catch him grimacing.
“If that’s the case,” he said, backing away from her, “then we need to consider the worst.”
“Which is?”
“Which is… you handed your phone number to a murderer.”
All of a sudden, Sylvie didn’t feel so well. Her stomach lurched and she made a dash for the bathroom. She made it to the toilet a second before the heaving started full force.
A few minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, tears still blurring her vision, her stomach empty. She’d brushed her teeth and washed her face but still felt yucky. And shaky and sick. And bone weary. But a little more clear-headed, for some reason.
“Are you okay?” He looked concerned, and she was extremely grateful he’d decided to risk her calling the cops to come and tell her about the napkin.
God, she might’ve given her phone number to a murderer!
Of course on the bright side, it seemed the murderer had dropped it. That gave her some hope a psycho killer wouldn’t be knocking on her front door tonight.
“No, I don’t think I’m okay,” she answered. “I haven’t dealt with stuff like this in a long… I mean, what should I think? I gave her my phone number, yes. But does that mean she wants to kill me? Or does that mean she wants to buy my car? And she lost the paper. So am I safe? Or does she have a photographic memory?”
“Want to take a chance?”
“No, not really.”
“Okay. Then I think you should pack. You can stay with me for a few days, unless you want me to get you a hotel room somewhere.”
She thought about it for a minute. Hotel room. Alone. Versus a safe and secure home with a guy who looked like he could whoop some serious killer-chick ass?
Did she trust this guy? His story about being a good guy who just wanted to help her was more than a little shady, but she felt deep in her gut that he wasn’t out to harm her.
But to play it safe, she could call Lisa and leave a message, letting her know where she’d be staying. She fished in her purse for Brett’s card. “I’ll be right back. Uh. There is one thing. How do you feel about poodles?”
He looked like a guy who’d just been told he needed to have both testicles removed with some fishing line and a dull butter knife. “Great. I love dogs,” he said weakly.
Chapter Three
Brett’s apartment wasn’t exactly your typical bachelor pad, though it wasn’t nearly as showy as the car he drove. The furnishings boasted simple lines. The colors were muted -- tans, browns. They gave her an instant feeling of calm tranquility. She felt safe.
“This is very nice,” Sylvie said as she followed him through the living room.
“Thank you.” He led her down a narrow hallway, pointed to the right. “This is the bathroom.” Then he stopped at the first door on the left. “And this is the guestroom. I hope you’ll be comfortable here.” He pushed open the door to reveal a gorgeous room decorated in a slightly darker version of the living room’s color scheme. The bed was covered in rich-looking fabrics and piled high with pillows.
Heaven!
She sat, gave it a quick bounce test. Soft. Just the way she liked it. “How could anyone be anything but comfortable in here? It’s nicer than a five-star hotel.”
He looked pleased. His smile made her feel all soft and girly and warm. “Excellent,” he said, his voice like a low purr.
Oh, how she wanted to rub up against that dangerous feline.
Lulu circled a few times then curled up for a nap in her lap. No doubt it was the heat radiating from certain body parts that inspired her dog to settle there. Her face warming, her heart hopping around in her rib cage like a toddler on a sugar buzz, Sylvie ran her hand down Lulu’s back. “Th-thanks.”
He stepped out of the room. “You’re welcome. If you need anything else --”
“Wait!” Before he got too far, she set Lulu down, hopped off the bed, ran to the door and caught his wrist. Their eyes met and she swore someone had cranked up the heat to ninety. “No, I mean thank you. For everything. I haven’t been exactly cooperative tonight. I jumped to all kinds of conclusions and suspected the worst --”
“You were frightened.”
“Yes,” she heard herself whisper as she stared at his mouth. Those really were the most amazing lips she’d ever seen on a man. She wondered what it would take to convince him to kiss her.
Suddenly, she wasn’t holding his wrist, he was holding hers. He pulled and she fell against him. She gave a shocked squeak when he looped an arm around her waist and turned, stepping forward until her body was sandwiched between the hallway wall and his amazing body.
What a wonderful place to be! Sweet, hot desire pulsed through her center in rhythmic waves.
He lowered his head, and her insides broke into a cha-cha. “I don’t know what it is about you. I can’t… dammit, I can’t resist.” His mouth came down on hers in a crushing kiss. His tongue pushed at the seam of her lips until she parted them. Then it stroked and tasted and took.
Instantly lost in the need his tongue and lips stirred in her, she lifted her arms and looped them around his neck to hold on. An urgent heat shot to her groin and she found herself rocking her hips back and forth in a feeble effort to cool it.
It felt like her blood was on fire. Literally. Her insides were scalding, burning up from the inside out. She kissed him back with all the need and heat she had. She met each thrust of his tongue with one of her own. Still it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
Make love to me. Now!
A stuttering heartbeat later, she staggered forward, dizzy and confused. He broke the kiss? He had released her? Why?
He was staring into her eyes. It was quiet, except for the wild huffing of her breathing and the thump of her racing heartbeat in her ears.
She’d never, ever felt like that from a single kiss.
His eyebrows hanging low over eyes full of confusion, he took another step backward. At the same time he lifted his hands to her shoulders. One index finger traced the neckline of her T-shirt. “What is it?” he asked.
“What’s what?” Still out of breath -- had the oxygen been sucked out of the room? -- she glanced down at the finger running down the deep vee of her shirt. If it kept on its current path, it would land in the cleft between her boobs in about five seconds. Four, three, two, one. Bingo! She held her breath and watched him lick his lips.
“Why do I feel this way? Like I’ll perish if I don’t…”
“Don’t what?” she whispered, taking a step forward. She needed to be closer to him, to touch him. To taste him. The impulse was worse than any craving she’d ever battled before.
He gathered her hair into his fists and lifted them to his nose. His expression was wicked hot as he audibly inhaled then released the tresses, letting them fall over one shoulder.
She tried to watch as he walked a tight circle around her. She lost sight of him when he stopped directly behind her.
He gasped.
Little bursts of heat sizzled up her spine when he traced a circle on the nape of her neck. Goosebumps coated her upper body.
“This?”
“What?” Her neck? Was something wrong? She started to turn around, but he halted her with two strong hands on the back of her shoulders.
“I’ve heard. But I never knew for certain…”
He sounded shocked, like he’d just disco
vered the secret to eternal life or something. On the back of her neck?
She hated to ruin the mood, but what the heck? “Mind sharing what’s so fascinating about my neck? Do I have a mole? Ringworm? What?” She slapped a hand back there and felt around with her fingers, half expecting to feel a bump, a lump, an extra appendage.
He pushed her groping hand aside. “No one I’ve known has found…”
Getting more curious by the second, she jerked away from him and twisted. Big mistake, moving so quickly. Her head whirled, or rather the world spun around her head. She grabbed his arm to steady herself. “Found what?”
He looked at her like she was either Pamela Anderson or a Greek goddess come to life. “You’re an Origo.”
“You mean an original? I like to think so. But I’ve never had anyone react with quite so much… amazement before.”
“Not original. Origo. You are one of the chosen. A human who is mate to not one but two vampires.”
“Oh. Oh!” Did she hear him right? Did he say -- gulp! -- vampire? Oh, man. Brett, Van Helsing, whoever he was, believed in vampires? He was cuckoo. “Sorry to tell you this, but vampires don’t exist. Outside of movies and costume parties, that is.”
“Oh, yes they do.” In the time it took for her to blink, Brett’s clothes changed. He was back in his sexy black vampire getup. The black cape and white billowy shirt. His hair was untied, falling in silky waves down to his shoulders.
What the heck?
“Didn’t you know?” Eyeballing her like a starving man would a juicy grilled steak, he licked his lips. “Tonight at your club. There were hundreds of vampires. And other fantastic creatures too.”
What the heck?
“Ohhhhh! You mean the costumes?” She laughed humorlessly. “You thought they were real? Uh, they weren’t. It was a costume party. A theme. You know? Kinda like Mardi Gras.” How silly of him to think there’d been real vampires at her bar.
Ridiculous.
Impossible.
Bizarre.
“Perhaps that was what you planned. But I can tell you with a great deal of certainty that the immortals outnumbered mortals by about ten to one.”
“No way. You’re joking.” She did a quick one-eighty and… ran smack dab into him when she took a step forward. How? “How the heck did you do that? You were over there!” She pointed behind her. “What’s going on? Who are you?”
“That’s an easy one to answer.” His gaze swept up and down her body. “I’m Burke Langton.” He smiled, revealing a set of chompers straight out of a vampire film.
There was absolutely no way he could fake those. A friggin’ vampire! This guy was a vampire? Vampires were real? “I’m one of your Masters.”
Sylvie swore her jaw struck the floor it fell so hard. If it wasn’t for Burke… Brett… whoever’s lightning quick vampire reflexes, her butt would’ve been the next thing to hit the floor.
* * *
Burke dragged Sylvie against him and kissed away every protestation that made it past her throat.
He’d known there was something special about her. It had struck him right away, the moment he’d stepped into Carpe Nocturne. Before he’d seen her, smelled her, heard her voice, he’d felt her. Deep inside. Even with the distraction of trying to find the murderer, he hadn’t been able to shake the lust stirring in his loins, heating his blood.
And now. Now that he had her here, in his home. So close. He could barely resist the urge to fuck her. It was more powerful than the fiercest hunger he’d ever experienced, worse than the night of his Awakening.
The need to take her burned. He knew he couldn’t resist. Wouldn’t resist.
She was his. He had only one thing to worry about. He could not feed from her. At this point, to do so would mean certain death.
He swept his arm under her and carried her into his room. Too impatient to bother with the door, he merely kicked it in, regretting his impatience only because of the fear he felt charge through Sylvie like an electric current.
He vowed right then, even if it killed him, he would go slow. For her sake. He would not take her yet. Not as long as she feared him.
When he set her on the bed, she looked up at him with wide, fear-filled eyes. The tang of her terror, mixed with the sweet scent of her arousal, created a bouquet that awakened the hunter within him. Never had he wanted a woman so badly. It was all he could do to cling to the whisper-thin threads of humanity that remained within him.
“What’re you going to do?” she stammered.
He stared into her eyes and reached for her mind. The psychic connection he’d discovered earlier was still there, stronger actually. He sent her reassuring thoughts. “I’ll do nothing you don’t wish me to do.”
Her face flushed.
He waved his hand, and her clothing flared in a blue flame and then disappeared completely, leaving his delightful Sylvie lying unharmed but naked.
She instantly crossed her arms over her chest and scooted back.
He sensed her mind was filled with mixed reactions -- fear and wanting, shock and understanding. It would not be difficult to bring her to full acceptance, to have her burning for him as much as he burned for her. Without magic. Although a little bit might come in handy.
She liked this, craved it. A mixed tonic of fright and arousal. He sensed it. He knew it, even if she wasn’t fully aware of it yet. He could see even the darkest parts of her mind, where she hid her secrets, the ones she didn’t want to know or accept yet.
“Sylvie.” He waved his hand again, magically binding her wrists up over her head.
She shrieked, looked up at her bound wrists, pulled and twisted, arched her back as she tested the restraints. As she struggled, her hard nipples jutted into the air. He longed to taste them. “What are you doing?”
“I’m giving you what you want. What you’ve always wanted.”
She stilled, but only long enough to send him a glare. “How could you possibly know what I want? You don’t know me at all. We met only a few hours ago.”
“I know you better than you know yourself, my darling.” He kneeled on the bed beside her, gently brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen over her face. She smelled so good. Sweet like ripe apples and spicy like curry. His balls were tight. His cock hard. All he could think about was the slick heat between her legs.
“You’re freaking me out here. I’m not your darling. What’s going on?”
“Like I said, I am your mate. Your Master. One of two, actually. I do not know who the other one is. But if he comes near you, we will both know.” He held up his forearm for her to see. There, the sign, a mark identical to the one he had found on her neck, had appeared. Like a tattoo. An intricate circle with a symbol in its center he had never seen before. That symbol would be the mark that would identify Sylvie’s other Master.
He was eager to discover who it was. Only when their triad was complete could he feed from her and conclude the Binding.
Only then would he be able to say she was truly his.
“I don’t understand. What does a tattoo have to do with anything?”
“You have one too. It’s identical to this and marks you as mine.”
She tipped her chin up and gave him a fierce glare. “That’s silly. I don’t have a tattoo. I know that for a fact. I don’t like tattoos, not that yours is ugly.”
He waved his hand and one of her arms sprung free. Two mirrors appeared in his hands. He handed one to her. “Look.” He positioned the mirror he was holding behind her so that she could see the reflection of her neck.
She gasped, dropped the mirror, and pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “How? What’s going on? I don’t understand.”
“If what I’ve read about an Origo is true, it was only a matter of time. We would have found each other eventually. We would have been driven to search until we did.” This time he used no magic to fasten her wrist back in the restraint. It was far too pleasurable to do it the natural way -- with his hands. Her skin wa
s warm to the touch. Smooth and sweetly scented.
He leaned over her, dragged in a deep breath to pull in as much of her essence as he could. It was as if he had never smelled in his life, as if he’d lived in a colorless, tasteless, scentless world before and now it was all new to him.
She was so beautiful. So perfect. From the gold that glittered in her wavy locks to the flecks of grey in her pale blue eyes.
His.
“You have been searching, haven’t you?” he asked, as he ran a finger down the side of her neck. He could hear her pulse beating there. It beckoned him, but he knew he had to resist. Sweet torture.
She shuddered and closed her eyes. “Searching?” she whispered.
Leaning closer, he whispered in her ear, “You sensed I was out there. Somewhere. Waiting for you. Searching for you.” He dipped his tongue into her ear and received a quiver as a reward. Encouraged, he kissed a trail down her neck. “You ached to find me. To find your dark lover. The one who would set loose all your fantasies.” He could smell her passion building. Could taste it on the tip of his tongue as it stroked her skin.
“Oh…”
“Legend says there is no greater passion than that between the Origo and her Masters. Do you wish to find out the truth?” He knew the answer before she spoke the word.
“Y-yesss.”
He reached between her legs and, finding her slit hot and wet and ready for him, pushed two fingers inside. She screamed and thrust her hips forward, forcing them inside. Her silky canal tightened around his fingers.
“Yes, oh yes!” She opened her legs for him. “More. Please, more.” Her chest was rising and falling quickly. Lifting her tits high into the air with each inhalation. He had to taste them first, before he moved down to her pussy. She was like the most decadent dessert. Every bit of her more delicious than the last. He hungered to sample every inch of her skin. To explore every part of her. He knew the hunger would not ease until he did.
His fingers gliding in and out of her pussy in a slow but steady rhythm, he took her right nipple into his mouth and suckled. She arched her back, pressing her full breast into his face. Eager to increase her pleasure, he nipped at the hard tip. Hot juices spilled from her pussy, coating his fingers.
The Alpha's Touch Boxed Set (14 Book Bundle) Page 4