He smirks. “I do believe eating out can be arranged.”
He punches in the code for the door, takes my hand again, and leads me through and into a two-story apartment, I assume his. I have just literally entered in the lair of one of the most feared and powerful vampires in North America. He’s gone for modern simplicity with lots of space, a few pieces of black leather furniture, rich wood tables, a pool table, and tiny kitchenette with bar stools at the counter. For whatever reason—booze—I can’t take my eyes off the billiard table. Oliver taught me to play. He was so patient, always cracking jokes when—
Oh, we’re moving again. Connor must shove me down onto the couch because one second I’m upright and the next I’m on my back with a vamp looming over me about to pounce. Some voice deep, deep down, the only part of me not drunk as a skunk right now, screams in terror. That this is nuts. That—
Connor presses his body against mine, kissing me again, and lowering the voice’s screams to a whisper. God, this man can kiss. Centuries of practice. We break apart so I can remove his shirt. Nice. Thin but toned. Mama like. He—shit. Connor grabs my shirt to take it off, and self-consciousness adds its voice to common sense’s protests. Besides not being model thin my ugly, huge red scars are on full display. At least I wore a lacy bra. Connor’s too busy burying his face in my breasts, kissing and licking across my cleavage, to notice the scars. I forget them too when he pushes up my bra, freeing my left breast and taking my erect nipple into his warm mouth, tongue flicking it in time to the thrusts of his bulge against my equally titillated center. Damn, that’s nice.
His mouth moves up to kiss my lips again as his hand takes over torture duty, rolling and pinching my nipple in his expert ways. After a long, lingering kiss that mouth moves southward, kissing my chin, my neck, between the swell of my breasts. I’m so awash in pleasure I fail to realize he’s removing my pants and underwear until they’re rolling down my thighs. This act cranks up the two voices of reason to rock concert loud and even adds a third, guilt, to the cacophony. What the hell am I doing? I barely know this man and what I do know I don’t particularly like. He’s undead. He threatened me. I’m not this kind of—
Connor buries his face between my legs, tongue playing my clitoris as if we’re in the sexual World Series, and all higher thought proves impossible. Dear God, that’s amazing. He kisses it with tenderness before his tongue takes control again, rolling and pressing, only to exchange kisses for playing every few seconds. I’m not used to oral. It’s so animalistic, even more so than penetration itself. Steven barely did it, but Will loved to. It was his first destination almost every time. He…oh, God. God. Will. No, I—
I burst into tears, jarring both Connor and myself. What the hell am I doing? Connor stops his feast of me, and I barely notice. The waves and waves, fucking tsunamis of guilt and shame pour out in time to my sobs. They won’t stop. I can’t stop them.
“Beatrice?” Connor asks, sitting up. I pull my legs to my chest and hug them to hide my nakedness, even resting my head on my knees so I don’t have to look at him. “Did I hurt you?” I can’t answer. “Beatrice…” Tentatively, he touches my bare knee.
“I’m sorry,” I cry. I gaze up and wipe my tears so I can see. “I’m sorry. I thought I wanted this.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assures me.
“I thought…this would help. That I could forget him and what I did, for just one fucking night. For one fucking night I could forget to hate myself,” I sob.
“Why do you hate yourself?”
“Because I couldn’t save him. Because I killed him. Because he left me alone. We were getting married. We were starting a life together, and I killed him,” I sob. Connor moves closer and drapes his arm over my shoulders, pulling me against him. He hugs me as I literally cry on his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’m doing…” Connor pets my hair and kisses my forehead. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” I cry for another full minute until I finally begin to calm down. When I realize I’m naked in every way conceivable with a veritable stranger, I pull up my bra with a sniffle as I sit up. “Oh, gosh, I’m so embarrassed.”
“There is no reason to be,” he whispers with a sincere smile. “Absolutely none. I understand.”
“Well, that makes one of us,” I say with another sniffle. I stand up and put on my underwear and pants. My head’s swimming. Standing was a mistake. Okay, this whole night was a mistake. I’m never leaving my bedroom again.
“I will have someone drive you home,” Connor says as he stands as well.
I put on my shirt. “Thank you,” I whisper. “And I’m sorry—”
Connor presses a finger to my lips and shakes his head. “I meant what I said. There is nothing to apologize for, fairest. I had a wonderful time tonight. One of the best I have had in ages.” He smiles and places a gentle kiss on my lips. “I look forward to our next.” Another sweet kiss. “Now, let me get you home.”
Ever the gentleman, Connor escorts me back to the club and even waits outside until his driver pulls up to the curb. I let him kiss me once more, but a giant weight lifts the moment the car door shuts, and I’m away from him. I want this night over with. I want to be home. I rest my head against the window as the car drives away. What the hell was I thinking? I’m mortified, scared, remorseful, but now I get to add sexually frustrated as well. I can still feel him licking me. I’m still wet and on edge and…excited with no relief in sight. I deserve to be. It was stupid, reckless, and dangerous. So not like me. Of course being me has only gotten me heartache and pain. At least tonight, for a few short hours, there was no Will. No F.R.E.A.K.S. Just me and a gorgeous man dancing and flirting. I felt almost human for the first time in months. And I ruined it. I’ve faced vampires, werewolves, witches, and none have done as much damage as I’ve done to myself. I am without a doubt my own worst enemy.
Perhaps it’s time to vanquish the bitch like I have all the others.
Chapter Three
Scar Tissue
At least I have a legit reason to stay home the next day. Hangovers are the worst. I throw up twice before the sun even rises, and the headache and body aches keep me in my dark bedroom all day. I don’t even have enough brain cells to play video games. Another day avoiding decisions and delaying the inevitable. Almost worth the pain.
Unfortunately I wasn’t drunk enough to black out. I remember everything. Every kiss. Every caress. Every word I said. The fact he saw me naked. The fact I let the vamp literally brainwash my best friend. He could have told her to jump off a roof and she would have. I’m such a shit. I’m more of a shit for caring more about the other stuff than what he did to April. And I’m supposed to go over to her house tonight for Javi’s birthday supper. God I wish I could get out of it but Nana’s made him a cake and she’d never let me miss it. It’ll be my penance for the violation and just being a general bitch last night. Nana loves being around the kids. I’ve barely seen them in all the months I’ve been back. I’m a sucky Godmother. Despite the summer heat, to hide the scars I put on a long-sleeved green and black striped shirt. Don’t want to scare the babies.
As I step out of my bedroom, Nana hurries down the hall. “You have a delivery.”
“What?”
I follow her to the kitchen where an edible fruit arrangement, giant box of Godiva chocolates, and envelope with my name scrawled on it. Inside I find a card, a gift certificate to a spa, and two tickets to the ballet Swan Lake at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion for tomorrow night. “Who is it from?” Nana asks.
I don’t even need to read the card. “My friend Connor.”
Written on the card is just a local phone number with “-C” written on it. How cryptic. At least he’s not angry about my being such a tease. I am intrigued. And I do sort of feel like I owe him after my shameful display last night.
Don’t be stupid, Bea. Don’t—
“I have to make a call. Be right back.”
I take the portable phone to my bedroom and shut the door. This is truly a hellacious idea. Yet here I am. Listening to it ring. “Connor McInnis,” he says with that Irish brogue. Yum.
“Hello Connor McInnis, this is Beatrice Alexander.”
“Well hello,” he practically purrs. “How are you feeling?”
“Hung over. Mortified. Now I can add perplexed.”
“Why perplexed?”
“I was just wondering if you send all the women who burst into tears and run away after almost sleeping together ballet tickets and fruit arrangements.”
“Only about half,” he quips. “The others receive opera tickets and gift baskets.”
I chuckle. “So. I assume you intend for me to go to the spa to ready myself for the ballet? My only question is, why give me two tickets?”
“Why do you think?” he asks.
“Well, one ticket would make sense.”
“Why? Do you often attend events alone?”
“No. It’s just…a person would assume you would need the other ticket currently in my possession.”
“I merely thought perhaps you had others in your social circle who you would prefer attend with you. Your surly friend from last night as example. Or your grandmother. Though I will say Swan Lake is my favorite ballet, not that that fact should color your decision on whom deserves that second ticket and the chance to spend the evening with you. The fate of that second ticket is left entirely in your exquisite and surprisingly deft, skilled hands.”
I chuckle again. Well played, Danny Boy. “Your fate is in my hands, you say?”
“At least tomorrow evening’s fate.”
“Okay. Fine. Connor, would you like to go to the ballet with me?”
“I thought you would never ask, fairest. I would enjoy nothing more.”
“You should know there’s only a slight, miniscule chance you’ll actually get laid tomorrow.”
“But there is a chance,” he points out before going radio silence for a few seconds. “I can still taste you, you know. I am literally aching, pulsating to taste you again.”
Thank God he can’t see me because I blush from tip to toes. “I…enjoyed last night as well. I’m just sorry my nervous breakdown spoiled the end.”
“I am nothing if not patient, fairest. I shall have my driver pick you up at six-thirty tomorrow night. Enjoy your day at the spa. Good-bye.”
“See you tomorrow. Bye.” I hang up.
Okay, how long have I been playing with my hair? I let the strand go and bask in the warmth that call brought. A sexy, rich man asked me out. It’s certainly an ego booster. Sure he scares the crap out of me, and I don’t really trust him, but it’s just a date. One date. I’ve never been to the ballet, and he kisses like a demon tempting my soul. Good thing I buried that annoying thing right beside Will.
I know Nana’s dying to know about my mystery benefactor but doesn’t ask on the drive to April’s house. Maybe she’s afraid to. Whatever the reason, I’m glad. She’s worried enough about me without adding the fact I’m dating a Machiavellian vampire with a body count no doubt in the triple digits to the pot. We park in April’s driveway behind her husband Javi’s Stanza. As always the front yard’s littered with balls and other toys. They live in a modern ranch with attached garage like millions of other families, mine included. Wholesome as a nun. I carry Nana’s homemade fudge chocolate cake that she spent hours on inside the house. “Hello?” I call, stepping inside.
“Tia Bea!” Flora squeals before running into the messy yet homey living room from the kitchen.
My Goddaughter is her mother’s mini-me with the same pillowy lips and huge chocolate brown eyes. It appears she’d moved on from her pink phase to purple as she’s dressed head to toe in lilac. Flora latches onto my waist with a big hug. I pet her black hair. “Hi, sweetie.”
Javi steps out of the kitchen next, all smiles. I wouldn’t call him good looking, more striking with a square, Mayan face and squat, strong body, but he’s a good one. He treats April like a queen and is the best damn father I’ve ever encountered. Not that I have much to compare that to. The closest thing I had to a father tried to molest me right before I literally broke his heart. May he burn in hell for all eternity.
“Is that my cake?” Javi asks. “I smelled it from the kitchen.”
“Nana spent all day on it,” I say.
“Is it chocolate?” Flora asks.
“Chocolate fudge,” Nana replies.
“I love you Nana Liz,” Flora says, releasing me to hug my grandmother.
“Love you too, honey.”
Javi kisses my cheek and whispers, “April’s on the warpath about you.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I whisper back.
“Tia Bea, I wanna show you my ponies!” Flora says. “I’ve gotten five since you were here!”
“Five? Wow. Lead the way, sweetie.” Flora takes my hand and drags me down the hall to the bedrooms. One door is open, and I peek in to find Carlos and Manny playing video games in their room. “Hi, guys.”
“Tia Bea!” Manny says with a smile.
“What are you guys playing?”
“Star Wars,” Carlos answers, never taking his eyes off the screen. He’s in the zone. I love the zone.
“See you two later,” I say as Flora pulls on my arm. “Have fun defeating the dark side!”
It’s definitely purpler in Flora’s room than before but not much else has changed. It’s like a Disney Princesses, Dora the Explorer, and My Little Pony showroom in here. “Here’s their castle!” Flora says. She plops down on the carpet in front of a sparkly purple castle where pastel ponies lie in a heap in front of it. I sit beside her. “This is Sparkle Face! She’s my favorite!” Flora hands me a pink pony and tiny brush. “Brush her hair!”
I know better than to disobey. I start brushing her mane. “These are pretty ponies. You’re taking very good care of them.”
“I love them so much. More than I love Cinderella and Dora.”
“My goodness! That’s an awful lot.”
As I continue brushing, Flora begins arranging the ponies in their castle. “Are you still sad?” she asks nonchalantly.
“I’m sorry?”
She keeps setting up the toys. “Mommy said you were really, really sad because your friend died. That’s why you haven’t come to see me. Are you still sad?”
“Yeah, sweetie, I’m still sad. I loved my…friend very, very much.”
“I’m sorry, Tia Bea. You can keep Sparkle Face until you’re not sad anymore. She’ll make you feel better.”
My heart feels as if it literally swells. I kiss the top of her head. “Thank you, sweetie. I’d like that.”
Flora nods and begins feeding the green one from the trough. “You can’t keep her forever though. You can’t leave with her when you go back to Kansas. I’ll miss her too much.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t know if I’m ever going back to Kansas, sweetie.”
“Because of your friend?”
“In part. Yeah.”
“Will the nice man still visit? He’s handsome like Prince Charming.”
“The nice man?”
“He said it was okay to call him Oliver. Mommy says its not umpolite if he says it’s okay.”
Oh. “Impolite,” I correct. “Not umpolite. That’s not a word.”
“Oh. Sorry.” She feeds the blue pony. “I want to show him all the paper snowflakes I made. He showed us how to make them at Christmas. They’re fun!”
“I don’t think he’s coming back here, sweetie. But you can make him your snowflakes if you want and I’ll send them to him. I know he’d love them.”
“Or you could call him,” April says behind me. I spin around and find her standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest and scowl affixed. “Like you should have done months ago. Maybe he could knock some sense into you.”
Great. Lecture time.
“Be right back, sweetie. I think your mommy wants to talk to me.”
I stand up and sigh. Let’s get this over with.
I follow April to her bedroom. At least she waits until I’ve shut the door to begin her tirade. “Wasn’t sure you’d show up tonight.”
“The hangover wasn’t too bad.”
“That’s not why I thought you’d chicken out.”
“What? You’re the one who wanted me to get out.”
“Get out. Not get shitfaced, abandon us, and screw a monster who threatened your, mine, and your grandmother’s life not even a year ago.”
“I told you. We’re past that.”
“Why? Because you didn’t have to physically fight him back then? Because Will got him to back down? What if Will couldn’t? Do you think your new boyfriend would have let his psychotic scheme go?”
I don’t know. “Yes,” I lie.
“Liar,” she spews back. “What if this is another play of his? Bea, you cannot trust this guy.”
“April, I can handle myself. And it’s not like I plan to marry the guy. I just want to have fun.”
“Then find someone who isn’t a literal blood thirsty, homicidal, supervillain without a damn pulse! He’s a fucking vampire for God’s sake! I thought the undead thing skeeved you out. It’s the only conceivable reason I could come up with for why you didn’t gain some goddamn sense and—” For whatever reason, she stops her train of thought and shakes her head. “You know, yesterday I was concerned about you but right now I’m shit scared for you. I’m more scared now than when I thought about you out there fighting trolls and ogres. You’re so vulnerable right now a newborn could take you in a fight. Maybe you should go back to the F.R.E.A.K.S. At least with them you had an anchor. You’re adrift here. You’re drowning and instead of paddling to shore or grabbing the life preservers people keep throwing you, you’re swimming toward the sharks.
The Sin Eater (A F.R.E.A.K.S. Squad Investigation Book 5) Page 3