Slamming her laptop shut, she lay down on the bed, closed her eyes, and pictured a rack of wine bottles. If she were from a scattered Croatian clan, would the right label leap out at her? Could their ties really be so deep, or was Andre fooling himself?
If such things were possible, she imagined she would feel it in her belly, in the comforting hollow inside her—where she felt safe, and absolutely alone. She fixated on that empty place. In the imaginary wine shop, her glance fell onto a label. It had metallic ruby lettering on ivory paper. Her heart sped up. But what were the words? Then her vision cleared, and she no longer felt hollow.
She gasped, blinking, back in the yellow room at Andre’s.
I want to make that happen for him.
She wanted to make Andre’s clan feel what she had just tasted. Home.
Suddenly hot, she tugged at her collar. Home was something she didn’t need. But it mattered to Andre.
She closed her eyes again to recall him kneeling before her by the spring, his mouth and tongue working on her nipples. Or how he’d been hard underneath her as she sat on his lap playing poker. Her hand went between her legs to soothe her ache. It wasn’t enough. She squirmed on the bed, twisting the quilt between her legs. How long could she maintain her distance in the same house with him?
Her stomach growled. Her vision may have momentarily filled the hollow in her belly, but she still needed dinner. And, God help her, something—no, someone else.
She found Susan in the kitchen, and they shared a light supper. Zoey barely tasted her food, but couldn’t seem to take her eyes off her plate. She scooched the leftover spaghetti from side to side.
“You seem distracted,” Susan said.
That was putting it mildly. “I’m just thinking about the project. It’s quite a challenge.”
“Hmm,” Susan said, sipping her wine and holding Zoey’s gaze.
She bristled, but looked into Susan’s kind eyes and saw an invitation, not a demand. Why not? She set down her fork. “Do you happen to know what happened with Andre and Lena this morning?”
Susan laughed. “Poor girl. Apparently Lena ambushed Andre in his room, practically naked.”
“Really?” How embarrassing. Poor Lena, indeed. Zoey took another bite of pasta. Suddenly, it was delicious.
“He made Kos come get her. I think he finally realized she couldn’t be happy here working for him.”
Zoey took a deep gulp of water.
Susan licked a drop of wine off her lip. “He’s in his office, if you want him.”
Zoey found herself in the cellar before she realized she’d decided. Not that she had actually decided anything. She just accepted that her desire for him was more powerful than her rational arguments to stay away.
The door to his office was ajar, and she slipped in quietly. He had obviously heard her approach, because he watched her come in. At his desk, he held a glass of bourbon. His dark brow was creased, his jaw jutting—his usual scowl. She closed the door and leaned against it. He still wore the white shirt, now with one more button undone at the neck. It revealed a wedge of his chest, olive-skinned and sparsely covered in dark hair. He looked good. Well, he always looked good—now he looked better, younger. It must have been the lighting.
She studied him for a few moments before she said, “You told me you’d fantasized about us together. The quick…way.” For some reason she didn’t want to say fuck now that she was really going to do it.
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“Come here.” He didn’t hesitate; in fact, he sounded relieved.
She had worried he would send her away, but she had made the decision for them, and he seemed grateful. She came to the side of his desk. He lightly gripped her shoulders and steered her to stand facing the desk, where he had been sitting. He stood behind her and stepped closer to her body, fitting his thighs against the curve of her ass. Hard already, his erection pressed into the small of her back.
Movement across the room caught her eye. There was a large mirror on the wall across from the desk. It had a thick gilt frame—another of Andre’s antiques. Even though he was behind her, it afforded her a view of what Andre was doing. She could see his hands reach for her breasts and the top of his head as he bent down to put his face next to her neck.
He gently bit the tendon between her neck and shoulder. Zoey’s eyes opened wide and she gasped, pushing her hips back into him. Having his teeth latched onto her neck was the most erotic thing she had ever felt, and she wanted more.
Andre was keenly aware that Zoey was breathing quickly and her heart beat nearly as fast as his own. He finally had her exactly the way he had imagined. He shuddered—the temptation to sink his fangs all the way into her was far greater than he had imagined. If only he could taste her without consequence. But no, every minute he had spent with her in the last three days had assured him that the moment he tasted her blood, he would belong to her. And then, like Mila, she could cause him unbearable pain. He wanted her desperately, but he would not be bonded, not be vulnerable again.
“Zoey, this has to be quick, like we agreed.”
“I know.”
He lowered her slacks and panties past her hips and pushed her shoulders down onto the desk.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he said, and dropping into his desk chair, drank in the sight of her. Her little round ass was as soft and perfect as he’d pictured it, with a pretty, faint birthmark on the left side that he hadn’t imagined. She was pink and smooth, with just the tiniest patch of dark curls. His tongue slid over the roof of his mouth. In his fantasies, he had not taken the time to look at her—he was just gripping her hips and driving into her. Now that she was in front of him, on display, he wanted to admire every inch of her. Her pulse accelerated, the scent of her arousal reached him.
Did she enjoy being looked at? He grew painfully hard at the thought, unzipping his pants to free himself. She glistened, smelling so sweet—she was clearly ready for him.
They had made a deal.
But he could not bring himself to push inside her just yet. He had to touch and to taste.
He dipped a finger into her, spreading her moisture. She purred and the vibration buzzed in his fingers. He spread her open so that he could slide his tongue inside her. She tasted amazing—salty and sweet. She whimpered. He had forgotten how good it was to please a woman like this. He wanted more whimpers, and cries and shouts too, before he was done with her.
Running his tongue down her core, he found her most sensitive spot. Drawing lazy circles with his tongue, he slipped one and then two fingers inside her. She clenched around him, and he stroked her until he found what she liked.
All this foreplay was the opposite of a quick fuck, but he was learning her body so that he could please her. Even a quick fuck should satisfy a woman.
As Andre teased her with his tongue and slid his fingers in and out of her, he could feel the tension build inside Zoey. She panted and his breaths came faster in response.
“Don’t make me come like this,” she said. “I want you inside me.”
He stopped lapping at her long enough to say, “I don’t want to stop, you taste too good.” It was a childish whine and she laughed at him. He did not mind her laughter, but he wanted all her focus. He slipped another finger inside to stretch her open; he would be a lot to take. She cried out then and rolled her hips, meeting his fingers in a perfect rhythm.
“Andre, quit teasing me. Now.”
What a woman, bent over his desk and begging for him, but still talking like she was in charge. He stood up and finally touched his cock to her. At the first contact, a jolt of electric pleasure went through him. He rubbed up and down her, gathering her moisture. She let out a breathy sigh that made his heart race even faster.
“Oh wait. What about a condom?”
He tensed, then ground out an answer through his clenched jaw. “I’m clean, and no babies
—Bel was a fluke. Can’t happen again.” He gritted his teeth waiting for her reply. When she didn’t say anything, he feared the moment was lost. “Okay?”
“Yes. It’s okay. Now!”
He entered her slowly. She was perfectly still, she even held her breath. He gauged her tightness and went only as far as she was ready. When he stilled, she exhaled and relaxed. Around him, she was wet, hot, and so damn tight.
Had he simply forgotten how good sex was?
He withdrew all the way and speared into her. She cried out and the muscles inside her quivered. No, it wasn’t his long abstinence. It was because it was Zoey, and she fit him like a glove.
She pushed her hips back impatiently. He closed his eyes and imagined her lush pink flesh spreading to take more of him. His breath caught. Her purr became a groan of pleasure, and he opened his eyes to see her arching back beneath him. He thrust in and out of her slowly and strummed her clit. With every thrust, her quiet moans told him he was hitting the right place.
Careful not to lose that sweet spot, he thrust faster and faster. She matched his pace with her hips, and her muscles began to spasm. His cock jumped inside her, but he was not ready to finish. Her cries became more urgent, and he sensed she was ready.
“Come for me, Zoey. Let me feel you.”
Her body responded to his command, going molten around him, hotter and tighter, until she let out one long, low sigh.
Sweaty and soft, she went limp underneath him. Her rib cage expanded with full breaths. Her pulse was fast and heavy, beckoning his hips to thrust in time with it, even though she was still and sated.
She shifted on the balls of her feet, and clenched. He was still filling her, as hard as when they had begun. She looked over her shoulder at him. “Wow.”
He laughed. “We can rest.”
“Hell no. Give me what you’ve got.”
“I like it when you are bossy,” he said as he began thrusting again. Finally, he was buried in her to the hilt. Gripping her hips tightly, he pulled her hard onto him over and over again. She was magnificent. Her shirt inched up her back, revealing gorgeous skin—creamy with a hint of golden honey. She gripped the front of the desk for leverage so that she could push harder against him. Her every move told him she wanted him as badly as he did her.
Her ass slammed into his hips. Eyes closed, he pretended. She knows me, knows what I am, and still she wants me like this. His heart swelled so big he could hardly breathe—it burned like the fatigued muscle it was.
His gums ached in warning. Davo.
Even with that fire in his chest, he could pound into her all night, if he were not hungry for her. But he wanted her completely—to revel in this connection, to make love to her. And all that started with a bite. One little bite with irreversible consequences.
Time to end things, and quickly, before his fangs made an unwelcome appearance.
His eyes were drawn to the tempting little pucker between the soft cheeks of her ass. Would she give him permission? He didn’t give her the chance to say no. He reached down between them, finding some of her wetness to lubricate his thumb. Then, at the same time he thrust, he slipped his thumb in too.
Zoey gasped. She stopped moving against him, but didn’t complain.
“All right?” he asked.
In response, she inhaled deeply and pushed back into him, taking more of his cock and his thumb inside her. “So good,” she said.
Oh, Zoey, would you let me take you like this? The idea nearly sent him over the edge, even before she clenched him tighter. They moved together and he spiraled closer and closer to release, until Zoey let out a frustrated sigh.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I need you to touch me.”
“Not enough hands, sweet. Show me how you touch yourself.”
She hesitated, breaking their rhythm.
“Zoey, love, I want to see. I want you to have everything you need.”
Love? He shouldn’t have said it. Though, if there ever were a woman he could love again…
After one long second, her hand slid down to where they were joined and his thoughts gave way to primal sensation as her muscles clenched around him like a vise.
He let himself come with her, throwing his head back and shouting out just as she screamed her orgasm. As the climax relaxed his control, hunger assaulted him, and before he could stop them, his fangs descended. Quickly, he closed his lips over them and collapsed on top of her, placing a chaste kiss on her shoulder.
“You’re incredible.” He took in her sex-drenched scent. “I’ll never forget that,” he said in her ear.
“Andre?”
She sounded strange.
“Yes?”
“Stand up.”
He did, and she followed. She quickly pulled up her pants and stood, turning to face him. “Open your mouth.”
His mouth? Davo.
His eyes darted to the mirror across from his desk. She’d been watching him all along. How could he have forgotten it was there?
She would not be fooled, not his Zoey, even if his fangs had all but disappeared into his gums. He met her eye and opened his mouth, allowing them to extend again.
She touched one of his fangs with her right hand. Her fingers still carried the sweet, tangy smell of her sex. He wanted to draw that finger into his mouth and suck her juices off of it.
“Okay,” she said. “Not what I expected, but it does explain some things. The night walking, the age thing. But you have a reflection?”
She sounded so normal and level-headed—too much so.
“Yes.”
She took a long, deliberate breath, and exhaled slowly, as if she were annoyed that he had troubled her with such an inconvenient revelation. He wished like hell that he had not.
Then she put her hand on his chest, where his heart pounded forcefully. “Are you alive?”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, completely alive.” Would that reassure her?
“So…” Her voice was laced with irony, and she shrugged. “Vampires are real?”
No, she was not reassured. What could he say? “Yes. We’re real. We’re just…” It was very difficult to explain. “Different. I suppose you would say we are a different species.” She dropped her hand from his sternum, and he missed the touch.
She brought the same hand to her neck. “Were you going to bite me?”
“No, I wouldn’t allow myself to bite you.”
She looked like she believed him but her pupils were large, her heart racing loud in his ears. “How old are you?”
“Very old.”
“This is too much.” Confusion and alarm broke into her voice, her composure slipping. She shook her head. “Too much. I have to go.”
He reached out to comfort her. “Zoey—”
She sidestepped his embrace. “Andre, I need to wrap my head around this. I’m not going to call the police or anything. I just need to go.”
She eyed him warily until he realized she was waiting for him to agree. He nodded and watched her rush out. He should feel relief, but a weight settled on his shoulders instead. He’d scared her to death, but he still needed her help.
Chapter 20
ZOEY PUT THE PUZZLE PIECES TOGETHER QUICKLY as she walked through the dark cellar back to her room. He was biting his household staff, drinking or eating their blood or whatever. Shit—she’d just had sex with a vampire and she was pondering semantics.
She hastily tossed her belongings into her suitcase and headed straight for her car, afraid Andre, or even Susan, would try to stop her. Susan! She could have given her a little warning. To say Andre had a medical condition was the understatement of the year.
It was nine o’clock when Zoey pulled out of the Kaštel Estate driveway. Once she was on the highway, she noticed the feeling of pins and needles in her fingers, then her toes. Her throat began to close up, she gasped for air. She wanted to put more distance behind her, but had to act fast. She pulled off the road and began to f
orcefully slow her breathing.
It had been years since she’d felt those symptoms. The first time had been at San Francisco General Hospital with Michael, when the soft-spoken doctor had leaned over her industrial grade metal desk and said he had schizophrenia. She felt all her dreams and plans for a future slipping through her fingers, along with the man she loved. He was the sick one, but her heart exploded in her chest. She truly believed she was dying when they rushed her downstairs into the ER and told her the humiliating news that she was having a panic attack.
She’d suffered half a dozen episodes that severe before she taught herself to breathe through the panic, avoiding full-blown attacks. The skills she developed had gotten her through Michael’s illness and death, and they continued to serve her well. She kept a level head with difficult clients and a cool detachment with men. Perhaps to find refuge, she had gone too far. But she felt safest when she didn’t feel much at all.
Andre was a vampire—difficult not to feel something about that little revelation. Her practices came back to her quickly. She allowed her thoughts and feelings to pass right through her as her breath and heart rate slowed.
When she was certain she would not pass out, she called Ethan.
“Ethan, he’s a vampire.” Saying the words made her Zen fly right out the window. “Holy shit, Ethan, he’s a vampire.”
“Calm down, Zoey.”
Oh that was helpful, she was trying to calm down. “Did you hear me? Andre Maras is a vampire!”
“Take a deep breath. Relax.”
“Relax? Are you kidding me?” Why was he being so calm? That was wrong. “You knew. You knew he was a vampire and you sent me to stay at his house. What episode of the X-Files have I walked into?” As she ranted at Ethan, Zoey was surprised to notice she felt calmer. Things were still weird, but she wasn’t losing her mind.
Ethan let out a long breath. “Zoey, I think it’s time I tell you the whole story. Meet me in Forestville? There’s a drive-through that’s open late. A burger place right on the main street.”
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