A brief search yielded a comb that made quick work of the tangles.
“Susan?” Stanislav called again.
“I’m coming.” When she opened the door, a figure towered over her, his hands gripping the doorframe overhead. Gasping, Susan jumped back.
“Are you okay?” Stanislav asked, his brow furrowed.
“Yes. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
She waved her hand in a circle in front of him. “Loom. It startled me.”
Alexei laughed, then unsuccessfully tried to turn it into a cough.
Stanislav’s nostrils flared. “I smell blood.”
“I’m not surprised. You’re covered in it.”
“Not mine. Yours.” He looked past her and swore, probably catching sight of the red stains on the white towel. “Let me see your arm.”
“No. It’s fine.”
“It isn’t fine. It’s still bleeding.”
“Only when I move,” she said, ducking under his arm and striding past him.
He swung to face her. “You’re moving now.”
She sighed. “How many bullets did you take, ensuring our safety?”
“I don’t know.”
“But it was a lot, right?”
When he said nothing, Alexei spoke up. “Yeah. It was a lot.”
“So why are you making such a big deal about my arm?” she asked. “It’s just a nick, nothing more.”
Stanislav’s mental barriers suddenly fell, letting her hear his thoughts. Because I care for you and can’t bear your being in pain, especially when I’m responsible for it.
Her heart turned over. This wasn’t your fault.
Yes, it was. You were harmed today by men who were hunting me. They were most likely aiming at me when they shot you. And don’t think I didn’t notice your scraped hands and elbows.
Alexei cleared his throat. “You guys are looking kind of intense. Susan, why don’t I tend your wound while Stan takes a quick shower? Will that end the face-off?”
“It really isn’t necessary,” she assured him.
“At least let me take a look at it and see if you need stitches,” Alexei pressed before Stanislav could speak. “I have an excellent first aid kit and am very good with a needle. The last thing you need is for it to get infected. Sewing it up will not only help prevent that, it will reduce any scarring that may result.”
She didn’t care about it leaving a scar. She already had several from the incident in California. But she didn’t want it to get infected. “Okay.”
“I’m staying,” Stanislav stated.
Alexei scowled. “And have you breathing down my neck the whole time? Hell no.”
When Stanislav looked as though he intended to insist, Susan caught his eye. Remember how much you disliked showing any weakness in front of me?
Yes, he grumbled.
Well, what makes you think it’s any different for me? She narrowed her eyes. And don’t even think about saying it’s different for you because you’re a man, or I will totally kick your ass, bullet wounds and all.
His lips twitched. I would never dare suggest such.
Good answer. She touched his arm. Now go shower. I’ll be fine.
When Alexei turned away and started digging through one of his duffel bags, Stanislav dipped his head and kissed her forehead. I’ll be listening. If he says or does anything that makes you uncomfortable, call me. You can do it telepathically if you don’t wish him to know.
Okay.
Alexei turned around, a large bright orange bag in his hands.
Stanislav cast him a warning look, then disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door.
Alexei motioned to the small kitchen table and shook his head. “I wasn’t exaggerating earlier. His not trusting me really does cut like a knife.”
Susan didn’t know what to say to that, so she remained silent as she seated herself.
“Did you really find him buried in your basement?” he asked as he washed his hands.
Stanislav must have told him as much while she was in the shower. “Yes.”
He joined her at the table as he dried his hands. “Would you lower the robe, please?”
She shrugged the robe off her left shoulder and eased her arm free. The sleeve of the large T-shirt she wore beneath was already damp, the towel she had wrapped around her arm having slipped down to her elbow.
Alexei gently peeled both away and bent to examine the wound. “Yep,” he mumbled, “Looks like they got you pretty good. Assholes. This definitely needs stitches.”
Nervousness struck, speeding her heartbeat. She had never liked needles. “Can’t you just use some of those skin-closure tape thingies?”
“If it were on your forehead, yes. But this area gets a lot of movement, so stitches would be better.”
When he stood and started removing bags of sterilized scissors, needles, thread, gloves, and a small bottle with clear liquid in it, her anxiety multiplied.
Calm abruptly suffused her, eradicating the other and mellowing her out.
Stanislav. I thought you weren’t going to manipulate my emotions anymore, she thought with no real anger or objection.
Silence.
Stanislav?
I don’t want you to be afraid.
She didn’t have to see his face to know how much it upset him. Thank you.
I would take your pain away, too, if I could.
I know. But I wouldn’t want you to. Not if it meant you would feel it yourself. You’ve suffered enough.
Alexei removed the cap from a needle, then partially filled a syringe with clear liquid from a small bottle.
“What’s that?” she asked, glad Stanislav had taken away her unease.
“Lidocaine with epinephrine. You’ll thank me for it once I start stitching.”
It stung a little when he began to inject it into the borders of the wound. Her skin blanched around the edges as he worked.
“If Stanislav heals swiftly,” she said curiously, “why did you learn how to do stuff like this?”
“Because I don’t heal swiftly,” he murmured, concentrating on his task. “Seconds can rack up some ugly wounds while fighting alongside or backing up our immortals. And healers aren’t always available to take care of the damage for us.” After a while, he set the syringe aside and picked up a larger bottle. “That should be feeling pretty numb now.”
“It is,” she confirmed.
He filled a larger syringe, then sprayed what appeared to be water into the ragged cut. “Sterile water. We don’t want any dirt left in there.”
Though Stanislav wasn’t in the same room with them, he might as well have been. Susan could feel him as strongly as if he were leaning over her shoulder while Alexei donned sterile gloves and began to stitch the wound.
She grimaced. Gross. It was kind of cool though, to be able to watch it without feeling any anxiety or discomfort. When that doctor in California had stitched her wounds, she had been flat on her back and unable to see it.
Once Alexei was finished, he topped it all off with a large bandage.
The door to the bathroom opened. Steam spilled out, preceding Stanislav.
Susan’s breath halted. She rose, the robe dropping into the chair behind her.
Stanislav’s strong jaw was smooth and clean-shaven. And he looked utterly gorgeous. His body was bare, save for a white towel wrapped around his hips. His shoulders were as broad as the doorway, his biceps huge. His muscled chest sported dark hair she wanted to curl her fingers into and give a tug. Rippling abs made her breath quicken despite the pink marks that marred his flesh where bullet wounds had sealed themselves and formed scar tissue. His thick thighs and muscled calves also bore a dusting of dark hair. His large feet were bare.
Damn, he looked good. Soft, tanned skin stretched over hard muscle.
She wanted to feel it all against her with an urgency that shocked her.
A ball of wadded-up clothing in one hand, he strolled toward t
hem in a languid stride that made her want him even more. He moved so fluidly. She could imagine him moving fluidly in other ways. Like when his body slid inside hers as it had in their dream.
He stopped short. His eyes flashed bright amber as he looked at her.
“She’s good,” Alexei said as he cleaned up the mess. “Weathered it like a pro. I—” He broke off, his gaze swinging back and forth between them. A quick peek into his thoughts revealed only curiosity over why the two of them were standing there as still as statues, staring at each other.
“Does your arm hurt?” Stanislav asked, his deep, husky voice sending an erotic shiver through her.
“No,” she answered. I would want you even if it did.
His eyes brightened as his hand clenched around the clothing. He looked at Alexei. “I’m not married?”
Alexei’s eyebrows rose. “No, you’re not married.”
His gaze locked with Susan’s once more. “Engaged?”
“No,” Alexei said.
“Seeing someone?”
“No. I told you, you’ve never dated anyone in the twenty-seven years I’ve known you.”
“You’re sure I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Yeah. One hundred percent. Why are you—?” Breaking off, he looked at Susan. “Oh. Ohhhhh.”
Stanislav tossed the wad of dirty clothes at Alexei, hitting him in the chest.
Susan’s heart began to pound when Stanislav prowled toward her. And that was how it seemed: prowling. He moved slowly, deliberately, chin down, his eyes locked on hers and promising pleasure beyond anything she had ever experienced.
As soon as he was within touching distance, he slid his arms around her, bent his head, and captured her lips in a hungry kiss.
Hell yes. This was no tentative trial. No gentle hello. No slow buildup to something deeper. He crushed her to him as if they had just spent the past twenty minutes tormenting each other with ever-bolder touches. His tongue slipped inside to stroke her own. Rising onto her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and met him taste for taste as heat flooded her. She leaned into him, pressing her breasts to his chest, rubbing her hips against the arousal his towel concealed.
Growling, he slid his large hands down to grip her boxer-brief-covered ass. Wrap your legs around me.
The harsh demand coupled with the erotic images she found in his head—everything he wanted to do to her, to do with her—damn near made her orgasm.
Eager to comply, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning when her core settled against his hard shaft beneath the Egyptian cotton.
Holy shit!
She stiffened. That thought had not been Stanislav’s. It had sprung from Alexei, whom she had actually forgotten was in the room the moment Stanislav had touched her.
Heat flooded her cheeks. But Stanislav’s ardor didn’t cool in the least.
Oh. Right. He could only hear thoughts she sent him or inadvertently broadcast.
His lips burned a fiery path down her neck as his arms tightened around her. One hand kneaded her ass. The other slid up to tease the side of her breast.
Alexei cleared his throat. “Um… You guys do know I’m still here, right?”
Stanislav muttered something in Russian, then turned toward the nearest bedroom door.
Susan buried her face in his neck and bit back a moan as their bodies rubbed together with every step.
“Wait!” Alexei called as they passed through the doorway. “Wait, wait, wait.”
Stanislav spat what she assumed was a Russian swear word, which pretty much echoed her sentiments. “What?” he snapped.
Undeterred, Alexei said, “You did hear me say that immortal/human relationships never end well, right? I mean, I know your memory is gone so… I just want to make sure you know it never ends well. Ever.” After all he’s been through, the last thing Stan needs is to fall for a woman he can’t have.
Any lingering distrust Susan felt toward Alexei vanished when she caught that thought. He was definitely in Stanislav’s corner.
Stanislav reached back and grabbed the edge of the door. “She isn’t human. She’s a gifted one.”
Just before he slammed the door, Susan peeked over his shoulder.
Alexei’s face lit with a broad grin. “Hot damn!”
Chapter Twelve
Once more settling his hands on Susan’s tempting ass, Stanislav strode toward the king-sized bed. “Your arm really isn’t hurting?”
“Can’t feel a thing,” she proclaimed breathlessly. “What about you?”
He knelt on the edge of the mattress. “All I feel right now is a burning need to be inside you.”
She nodded. “I can go with that.”
He took her lips in another hungry kiss, loving the taste of her, the feel of her small hands roaming his back and urging him closer. “Kneel.”
She unlocked her ankles and lowered her legs until her knees hit the mattress.
Stanislav gave her lovely ass another stroke, then slid his hands under the hem of the shirt she wore, dragging it upward as he smoothed his hands over her soft-as-silk skin, brushing the sides of her breasts.
She raised her arms, encouraging him to tug the soft cotton over her head.
His breath left him in a rush as the T-shirt hit the ground beside the bed.
She wore no bra, so her beautiful breasts were bare to his gaze.
“Perfect,” he declared hoarsely, cupping them in his palms. When he teased her hard pink nipples with his thumbs, she moaned and let her head fall back. Her hips arched into his as she dug her fingers into the towel still anchored around his hips and tugged him closer.
“Lie back,” he whispered against her lips, stealing another kiss.
Her eyes holding his, she did so, easing back to lie on the bed with her head on the pillows.
Leaning over her, Stanislav tucked his fingers in the waistband of the boxer briefs and drew them down slender, shapely legs he wanted to wrap around him again. His gaze went to the triangle of dark curls at the juncture of her thighs. He couldn’t wait to taste her, to pleasure her the way he had in the erotic dream they’d shared.
She nodded at his towel. “Now you.”
He yanked the towel from his hips and let it fall to the floor with a thump.
Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked her fill, her bold gaze smoothing over him like hands. Her heart beat as swiftly as his. Desire poured off her and swept through him, ratcheting up his own. He was so damned relieved that it wasn’t accompanied by nervousness or uneasiness or any emotion that would indicate she wasn’t sure she wanted this.
“Wow.” Her pink tongue slid across her lower lip as her eyes devoured him. “You’re big everywhere, aren’t you?”
He laughed. And wondered if he had ever laughed before when seized by such desire.
Her legs shifted restlessly on the covers, beckoning him to come between them.
Curling his fingers around each ankle, he eased her feet farther apart, loving the leap in her pulse. He moved forward, his own heart pounding as he smoothed his hands up her calves. He paused when his fingers encountered the raised pink ridge of a scar on her knee.
“It’s from the car accident in California,” she murmured.
He nodded to the longer one on her hip. “That one, too?”
She nodded.
Forcing back the anger that rose within him, he pressed a kiss to her knee, then smoothed his hand up her thighs, barely grazing the hair at her center before he lowered his body to hers.
She hissed in a breath. “You feel so good.”
Claiming her lips once more, he kept the bulk of his weight propped on his forearms. When she slid her hands around him and gripped his ass, he groaned his approval.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered.
And he wanted to be there. But he wanted to taste her first.
Stanislav kissed a path down her neck and over her collarbone, loving her scent and the feel of her soft, sof
t skin. He closed his lips around a tight pink nipple.
Gasping, she buried her fingers in his hair as he stroked her with his tongue and nipped her with his teeth, careful not to pierce her skin when his fangs descended.
He loved being able to feel what she felt. Every sharp increase in her arousal told him exactly what she wanted. How she liked to be touched. Stroked. Teased. What she wanted more of. What made her buck beneath him and clutch him tighter.
He continued a path down her stomach, dipped his tongue in her navel, then eased lower. She was so ready for him, moaning at just the feel of his warm breath on her clit. She jerked at the first brush of his lips. Writhed beneath him. So hot and wet and eager for every stroke of his tongue. Every lick and flick and undulation. And he devoured her. Intoxicated by her taste. Lust burning through his veins as she arched against him, her cries affecting him as much as her small fingers burrowing through his hair. So fucking good. He wanted more. Needed more.
He slid a hand up her side to clasp her breast, kneading and pinching the hard pink tip as he moved his tongue so swiftly it seemed to vibrate against her clit.
She cried out, every muscle tightening as an orgasm tore through her. And the rush of her ecstasy damned near made Stanislav come, too.
Susan’s breath emerged in gasps as the orgasm seized her and little ripples of pleasure continued long after they usually did. She’d never felt anything like it. So intense and all-consuming.
She stared at Stanislav with no little awe as he kissed his way up her body and settled his hips between her thighs. “Damn, you’re good.”
She moaned as he teased her center with his hard cock.
His eyes blazed with amber light, his features intense and beautiful. “Are you up for more?”
She felt no fear when she caught a glimpse of sharp fangs. “Hell yes,” she declared.
His lips claimed hers.
Susan wrapped her arms around him, clutching him tight, and smoothed her hands over his broad, muscled back. She felt a moment’s qualm when her fingers found the scars the bullet wounds had left there. Dragging her lips from his, she met his blazing eyes. “Do they hurt?”
Awaken the Darkness Page 22