With my pulse racing, I rise up on my toes and kiss him as his arms gently close around me, the way he hugged me earlier. I know he could literally crush me if he wanted to, but his hands barely touch me as my lips brush his.
I’ve never kissed a vampire before. His lips feel soft and cool, and there’s that thick, sweet aroma surrounding him.
Yeah, I’ll be firing up my B.O.B. when I get home. My panties are probably soaked, and I’m certain he can smell that. Yet he was a man of his word and didn’t try to make me do more.
He doesn’t move after that kiss, waiting on me.
What the hell? Why not?
I kiss him again.
This one I deepen as I press myself against his body as we kiss. There’s a dusting of scruff on his cheeks and chin, and I like the way it gently rasps against my flesh. He also has a very firm, fit, strong body.
Yep, he’s hard.
Haaarrrrd.
I wiggle my hips against him and feel the rush of air from him as he softly gasps.
I only feel a little bad about that.
His embrace tightens around me, but still gentle, and I reeeally like that he seems to be a man of his word about not rushing me. That’s sexy as hell, because I hope it means I can drop my guard around him at some point.
That’s when something hits me. “Where are your fangs?” I ask, staring into those blue eyes.
He smiles, drawing back his upper lip to show me his teeth.
Normal-looking teeth. No…fangs. “Only when I feed or bite. Like shifters, we can control them.”
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I reach up and touch his left canine. Feels like a normal tooth, maybe a little pointier.
Honestly? I’ve never asked about that before. I’ve also never been this close to a vampire for this long. Not like…this. “I guess I didn’t know that. Learned my new thing for the day, thanks.”
He reaches up and plays with my hair then brushes the backs of his fingers along my jaw. I shiver, but it’s not fear—it’s the good kind of panty-dampening shiver.
“That’s fair, since you’ve taught me a lot in a short few hours.”
I don’t want to let him go, even though I know I need to. “Sorry about the raging case of blue balls I’ve given you.”
#notsorry
He smiles and lightly flicks my hair again, playfully. “Apropos, Blue.” He sighs. “I’ll return to my hotel and think about you while I’m taking care of that.” Heat darkens his eyes again. “Seems like I’m not the only one tonight had an effect on.” His gaze flicks down just long enough I know I was right—he can smell me. “I hope you have enough batteries.”
I snort. He’s got a great sense of humor and a gorgeous smile.
Fuck me, why’s he got to be immortal?
Why’s he got to be a vampire?
I limit myself to one last kiss. “Uncle Lucius and Auntie Selene are very protective of me. Did I mention that?”
“Memo received loud and clear.” This smile, however, is definitely reaching his eyes. God, I love making him smile like that. Like it’s been too damned long since he’s felt like smiling in this way.
I know the feeling.
I mean, sort of. Relatively speaking. “Drive safe,” I say. “Have your guy text me when he’s at my place, and I’ll come down.”
“I’d rather he come up and escort you to the car.”
“Yeah, well, a strange human smelling like a strange vamp, wandering around alone in a building full of shifters…”
“Ah, got it.”
“Exactly. He’s human, so him being there isn’t a territory violation, but I don’t want to push it.” In fact, while we could have this meeting at my apartment, which would solve my traveling at night problem, Garrett likely doesn’t want the vampire in his building, where he lives, where his own mate and packmates and clueless humans live.
Doesn’t want the vampire having permission to enter his “home.”
I can totally respect and understand that.
He also doesn’t want to have to justify to his pack why he allowed a vamp to wander into shifter territory without retribution.
And having the meet in neutral territory, at Fight Club, with lots of pack members around, is a safety factor, too.
After a long, tight hug, I finally release him so he can depart. Once it’s dawn, I race home, shower, and climb into bed with my rabbit vibrator. Of course, Dexter is the star of my fantasies. As I slide the toy inside me, I close my eyes and pretend it’s his cock. Although, from what I felt tonight, I’m reasonably certain his cock is larger than this toy.
Yowza.
Rolling onto my stomach, I hike my hips up and stroke the toy inside me, imagining it’s him fucking me, his lips kissing the back of my shoulder, his voice whispering in my ear as he thrusts. I think about what his body would feel like rubbing against my freshly spanked ass, how it would feel surrendering to him.
Because I wanted to, not because he compelled me.
Dexter’s the first man—immortal or not—who I’ve seriously considered taking that leap of faith with.
I even—fates help me—imagine what it’d feel like if he bit me as I come, and it’s that thought that trips me over the edge and has me moaning into my pillow.
After I flip over and pull the toy out and turn it off, I lie there for a moment, thinking about Dexter. Why him, and why now? Why does he do things to me no one else has?
No offense to Chad the cheetah shifter, but even his decent skills drop to nothing when I think about Dexter, and all I’ve done is kiss the vamp!
Once I clean up the toy—and me—and return to bed, I settle in. Still, it takes me way longer to fall asleep than I thought it would. I can’t stop thinking about Dexter and the things he admitted to me tonight.
I’ve never had a vampire open up to me like that before.
Hell, while I am a keeper of secrets, I’ve never had anyone open up to me like that before, in such a personal way, and about something so…intimate and traumatic.
Mostly because I’ve never had anyone.
Yes, I’m nearly certain he’s not bullshitting me. It was almost like he felt relieved to be able to be honest with me.
Then, there was the cuddling.
Holy shit. The cuddling.
We…cuddled!
I literally haven’t been able to do that in…ever. Not even with the cheetah shifter that time. We were both horny and not looking for anything other than sex.
At some point, apparently, I drift to sleep. I awaken at my usual time to several texts, from Selene, Amber, and from Dexter’s man, John, who will be picking me up and wants to confirm my address and the time.
First, the bathroom. Hair’s still black, so…yay. I handle business and then return to sit on my bed.
I answer John first, to get that out of the way.
Then I reply to Selene, knowing it’ll be awhile before she responds. Duh, she’s asleep.
I leave Amber for last, because I know what will happen. As soon as I reply, less than thirty seconds later, she’s calling me.
“Well? How’d it go?”
“You know exactly how it went.” I flop back onto my unmade bed. “It went amazing. I didn’t even scare him off when I had to stab a vamp with a pencil.”
“You can trust him, honey. He’s so into you, it’s nearly painful. He’s your future.”
I try not to get my hopes up over that. “Will you be there tonight? I’d like for you to meet him.”
“Unfortunately, no. I’ve got a charity auction I’m running. Otherwise, I would.”
“Is there anything else you see?”
She goes quiet for a moment, and I wait her out. “Mazbushka.”
Feels like my heart stutters. “What?” It comes out a whisper.
“It’s what your father calls you.”
I swallow hard. I’ve seen her make some pretty freaky predictions that were dead-on. “Called,” I sadly correct. “He’s dead.”
r /> “No. Calls. He’s not dead.” Her firm tone brooks no resistance. “He’s not dead. He’s… hiding. Although that doesn’t feel exactly right. He is concealed, somehow.”
I’ve never had an in-depth conversation with her about my parents. “That’s…that’s impossible.”
“I know what I see.”
I’m glad I’m already lying down. “But he’s dead. Mom wouldn’t have lied to me about that!”
Another pause. “She didn’t lie to you. That’s what she suspected. She didn’t know for sure. She assumed he was dead, because he never… returned.”
It takes me a moment to find my voice. “Where the hell is he then?”
“I…” Another pause. “I can’t see that. It’s like it’s fuzzy. Like there’s something in the way. All I know is he is alive, and he misses you and your mom.” She blows out a breath. “That’s all. That’s all I see about him right now.” I hear the exhaustion in her tone. I know the visions sometimes take a lot out of her physically as well as emotionally.
“What about Dexter?”
“Trust him, honey. Seriously. He’s a soul in pain equal to yours. You’re each other’s remedies.”
“He’s a vampire.”
“I know. But he’s still a man. And he’s a damned good man.”
I’m still trying to process everything she just told me. “Please don’t tell anyone else about what you said about my dad. Not even Garrett. Not yet.”
“Maybe we could help you search—”
“No.” I feel…numb. “Mom died loving him. If you’re right, and he is still alive, why didn’t he find us?” Mom never changed her name or used fake names for me. If he is alive, and he’d really wanted to, he could’ve found us.
If Amber’s even right.
Maybe she’s not.
“Okay. I promise I won’t tell Garrett. Yet.”
“Thanks. I-I’ll talk to you later.”
I lie there, staring out my wall of windows looking out over Tucson. I wish I could say it’s Amber’s prediction about Dexter that has me shook, but no.
Not today.
I don’t want to get my hopes up, either. Because if my father is alive…why wouldn’t Dad come find us?
Now I wish I hadn’t agreed to facilitate this meeting tonight. What I want to do is…
What, exactly?
All I have is a sorta-psychic saying he’s alive. Not where he is. Hell, I don’t even have a picture of him.
I realize the ring’s in my hand, but I have no conscious memory of pulling it out from under the T-shirt I slept in last night.
The only three people I would feel reasonably comfortable talking to about this are all, ironically, asleep until sunset.
Now what do I do?
I’ve never felt more alone and adrift than I do at this moment. I should get up and decide what to wear, not that I have a lot of choices.
Then…
Hmm.
Maybe tonight would be a good night to break out the Jimmy Choos. They aren’t called fuck-me pumps without good reason.
Because maybe I would like to see what it feels like to get laid by a vampire. And spanked by one. At least once in my life, I’d like to try it. Especially with one I know I can trust not to overpower me or violate my limits.
A handsome one full of heartbreak.
I damned sure need something to take my mind off the revelation Amber dropped into my lap.
I think Dexter Van Sussex could be the perfect something.
14
Dexter
I hate leaving the club Thursday morning, but it’s not like I can stay there with Eilidh. She has a life outside of me that, for now, I have no access to and no right to demand to be a part of.
Time. It’s something I have in abundance, unfortunately.
It’s the one thing I can freely offer her without restrictions or hesitation because I know it’s the one thing she’ll accept from me without reservation. I’m simply glad I didn’t scare her off with my grand gesture.
Stepping into the shower, I lean against the wall, close my eyes, and take my erection in hand. There won’t be any sleep in my future if I don’t relieve some tension. Whatever special perfection exists within Eilidh, it has an effect on me I didn’t realize I’d been missing so much.
Everything about her speaks to me, weaves a spell around me. I’ve spent so many centuries reinforcing walls around me just to have this sweet, perfect woman walk right through them.
Imagining it’s her mouth around my cock and her violet eyes staring up at me, I stroke myself, not dragging it out this morning. Tipping my head back, a fantasy of gathering her hair in my hands and using it to fuck her mouth takes over. Even as my balls tighten and pleasure snaps, and I spend all over my hand and the shower, I feel a shadow of guilt try to root itself in my soul. She’s no sweetblood. She’s no eager slut willing to let a vampire flog or spank her to chase the high she wants.
And I’m not a good man. I’m not even sure I’m worthy of her. The darkness within me and that I am consigned to taints everything in my existence.
Just like it tainted my love with Robert.
Finally, I finish and dry off. I deal with a couple of minor tasks before stretching out in bed naked just before dawn. I send a few final texts to John and Mark and then close my eyes. As the daily stupor creeps over me, I sense the sun’s presence outside, even though all the windows in my suite have been prepared. John and Mark have taped a heavy tarp inside each window, as well as affixed clips to the blackout curtains, so they cannot drift open, even a little.
The only light in my room comes from the LEDs on the TV and DVD player and the digital clock on the nightstand, but to me, I can see as well as if it were daylight.
I miss my sun like a phantom ache. Robert used to love the sun.
I miss how Robert used to walk outside and lie in the sun, completely warm his body, and then immediately return to me, so I could hold him, bury my face in his hair, and inhale its scent.
He was my sun, and I orbited around him.
In many ways, I still do.
I haven’t allowed myself to love anyone since losing him, although there have been some humans I grew fond of. I always sent them away before I could become too attached, used my powers to make them think they left me.
Made it my fault. Always my fault, and sent them away with plenty of funds, so they could make it on their own.
Always wished them well.
But no one ever dug under my skin and embedded themselves in my soul the way Robert did.
I never loved anyone since losing him.
I didn’t think it was even possible.
I remember how in the mornings after I fed from him, or he’d tried yet another vampiric “cure” on me, he used to pluck a couple of hairs from me and lay them on the windowsill, hoping beyond hope.
His devastation every time to see them turned to ash used to gut me.
How he begged me to turn him, so he wouldn’t lose me. I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to. Terror filled me, though, because I was already afraid he wouldn’t survive the process. Once I felt certain what he was sick with, I was even more convinced he might not survive. Yes, it was selfish on my part, not wanting to speed his departure.
I tried healing him with my blood. Letting him feed from me. If nothing else, I thought certainly the more he fed from me, the better his chances once I did turn him.
He would have done any- and everything I asked of him. He wasn’t just my love, he was my willing submissive, my slave. I met him in a small pub on the outskirts of London and knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that he was mine. I didn’t have to thrall him.
I didn’t have to compel him.
I feel about Eilidh the way I felt about him, and it terrifies me all the more, knowing how that story ended, even though the bacteria that eventually stole him from me had already invaded his body before I met him.
Except this is the twenty-first century. They have drugs now t
hat can kill all but the most tenacious strains of TB. I know more than I did back then. I have more resources.
I have Lucius and others to consult with.
Yet I also have my old fears. Plus, Eilidh’s so young! I haven’t asked that, but she looks barely nineteen, so she can’t be more than twenty-three or -four. Even if she does come to love me, what right do I have to turn her, willing or not? What right do I have to deny her the sun?
What if she wants children? That’s not something I could ever give her. I mean, we could visit a fertility clinic, of course. But then she would need to raise our children. I couldn’t turn her before they were grown and deny them their mother.
Children are the most beautiful, breathtaking heartache. I was present when my two remaining children died, the first in his forties or so, after an injury turned gangrenous. I came to Eochaidh in the night even as the infection ravaged his body. I told him who I was, and that I loved him, and then released him from his pain as I cried. He’d already fathered five children, three of whom survived to adulthood.
My other son, Sealbhach, survived to a rare old age back then, when he finally succumbed to what I suspect now was cancer. He died peacefully and naturally in my arms, slipping away in the middle of the night with me whispering my love.
For centuries, I lingered in that area, keeping watch over my family line, helping when I could, in the ways that I could, without exposing myself. Hiring humans to help me.
Protecting them as best I could.
I finally sleep, my thoughts filled with Eilidh. When was the last time I thought about anything but Robert or work when lying in my daily imprisonment?
Her sweet rounded curves, how her body fit perfectly against mine—when was the last time I was blessed with pure contact like that?
Cuddling.
I’d thought there was no greater thirst to be had than when I’m overdue to feed, but it turns out there is one even worse.
Skin hunger.
It’s tempting to beg her to come work for me. To tell her that her only job is to stay alive, and healthy, and snuggle with me.
That would be enough.
Of course, I would want more, but even if that is all she ever gave me, I would gladly take it, without question.
Her Vampire Obsession Page 13