The Bite of Winter

by Lauren Smith

  Passion built up inside her like a warm, dark cloud. One that fogged her mind with visions of twining limbs, whispered sighs and sated pleasures. She needed this one kiss too, more than Ian did.

  “Okay.”

  He lifted her chin and put his mouth over hers. It was a spark to tinder, and she went up in flames. A wildfire raged between their lips. More. She had to have more. It was crazy, insane, but she gave in and arched her body into his. His hands moved from her face down to her waist, sliding over slick skin. His palms slid up her back then down to her butt. His thumbs pressed into the flare of the front of her hips, his fingers dug into her lower back, pulling her closer. He feathered his lips, soft and fleeting before she whimpered in frustration. This was no time for teasing. A breathless chuckle escaped Ian as he spun them around to pin her against the marble wall of the shower.

  His mouth assaulted hers, taking everything she gave him and demanding still more. He moaned when his tongue slid between her parted lips, tangling in fierce play. The hot spray of the shower struck Ian’s shoulders, thick droplets formed over his skin and Zoey fought the desire to lean forward and lick them away.

  At some point, her legs were lifted and parted. Ian’s hands grabbed the back of her thighs. He pulled her up until her breasts were level with his mouth. She gasped in shock as his lips settled over one peak, sucking hard on the tender, erect tip. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she clung to him. Zoey’s eyes fell shut as bliss began to pulse and throb between her legs, the almost forgotten rhythm wild and frantic. She rubbed herself against him and the massive erection barely hidden by his boxers.

  She jerked in his arms when Ian’s teeth grazed over her other nipple, pricking the sensitive skin.

  She squeaked when he nipped at the underside of her breast. The zing of pain only made her throb harder and her core filled with her wet arousal.

  Ian growled. His tongue flitted over one nipple before his mouth moved back up her chest to her neck. He nuzzled the side of her throat, teeth scraping over skin. His soft inhalation of breath was an erotic whisper.

  “You smell so good, Zoey, love. I can feel your heat…” His words trailed off into a gruff curse when her stomach rumbled loudly. Ian sighed, resting his cheek against her collarbone.

  Finally, he leaned back and let her slide down his body until her feet hit the floor.

  Her body wanted to scream in frustration at being denied his touch, his kiss. “Why’d you stop?”

  “I’m sorry, Zoey. I took advantage and it was wrong of me.” His hands seemed reluctant to part with her waist, but he turned his face away, eyes roving about the bathroom, as though determined to stay away from her. He was panting, apparently struggling to regain control.

  His apparent desire to put distance between them, to take back what they’d done, hurt her more than countless days of hunger or cold. What he’d given her had been so wonderful. A glimpse of unbridled passion and a sensual exploration she’d never had the chance for until now. And he’d taken it all away with a well-intended apology.

  “Please don’t say that. I…I liked it.” She couldn’t believe she felt comfortable enough admitting it. She followed her brave words with the cowardly action of wrapping her arms around her chest, hiding her breasts. His gaze moved back to her face and she was struck again by the lovely green of his eyes. She’d never seen such a pure color. She’d have happily stared into those eyes forever and never want anything more, except for another kiss. She’d sell her soul and bargain away her heart for a touch of those lips on hers.

  “I know. But it was wrong. You don’t owe me anything. You’re free to stay here until…until we can get you back on your feet. I’ll leave something on the counter for you to wear. Don’t worry if I’m gone when you get out. Settle on the couch and rest up a bit.”

  He cupped her chin and leaned down for a kiss, and it was anything but chaste. How could he pack so much erotic promise in one little kiss?

  When he stepped back, her body screamed in protest, but she didn’t stop him as he slid open the shower door and stepped out. Water pooled around his large feet onto the small bath rug. He reached behind himself and closed the shower door, putting the fogged glass between them as he strode away.

  The corners of her mouth pulled up in a smile. Ian. She liked him more than she should and she didn’t know him at all. Except that he could kiss like a dream and not just on her mouth. Her cheeks flamed and she stifled a breathless giggle as she remembered the way he’d fit his mouth to her breasts, sucking and tugging on each nipple with hungry insistence. Each pull on her breast sent a trail of fire straight to her clit. The memory had her aching all over again.

  Frustrated, she washed between her legs, but it wasn’t much use; she stayed aroused as she stepped out of the shower. She toweled off and blinked in shock when she noticed the folded white shirt sitting on the counter. Surely, he brought something else to wear. Why hadn’t he brought pants?

  Zoey buried her face in her hands, massaged her cheeks and sucked in a deep breath before blowing it out. She’d practically had sex with Ian in the shower. Maybe her reaction to him gave him the impression she was easy. She was mortified about how her inner moral compass seemed quite happy to ignore all this. Searching the drawers for a comb, she found a black brush instead, and quickly untangled her wet hair.

  Clean. Finally clean. It felt so damn wonderful. This time, when she raised her eyes to the mirror, she saw herself. A plain Jane with chestnut hair and brown eyes. But at least it was her, not some homeless, grimy, smelly creature. No one really understood what it was like to lose themselves to a life on the streets. A person lost their identity when they lost their home, work, money, and family. All of it had vanished in a year and it had changed her forever. Yet now she could glimpse Zoey Blake again, even if her face was a little gaunt, her eyes a little sunken. She was still there somewhere.

  Zoey picked up the white shirt left on the counter and slid her arms into the sleeves. It had to be one of Ian’s. It hung down to her mid-thighs and her hands vanished in the long sleeves. She rolled them up until she could find her wrists. Outside the bathroom, she heard a distant door slam.

  “Ian!” Her heart leapt as she ran to the open the bathroom door. Her smile vanished when she stared up into another man’s face. Just as attractive, yet the opposite of Ian, with golden hair and dark eyes, looking more innocent. Yet Zoey could tell he was far from that. Something kicked her hard, raw animal desire for this complete stranger… It was just like when she’d first watched Ian cross the bedroom and come to her—an irresistible need to kiss him, to curl her arms around his neck and offer herself to him in every wicked way she desired. Vaguely she realized something was wrong with her, if she was reacting so irrationally to these two strangers.

  The man’s lips parted, and he snarled, his canines long and menacing, like fangs.

  “Such a succulent feast for dinner? Ian shouldn’t have…” The man licked his lips and reached for her.

  Chapter Three

  Zoey couldn’t even summon a scream. The man was like some kind of Viking warrior with bronzed gold hair and honey brown eyes that promised wicked sins and wild abandon. His lips peeled back in a feral smile that reminded her of those old Bela Lugosi vampire movies. His massive shoulders blocked any exit from the bathroom and his dilated pupils forced her to step back. An unexpected wave of desire swept through her to run her hands up the length of his chest, digging her nails into him while she kissed a path up to his mouth.

  “You’re not Ian,” managed to come out of her mouth, though barely above a croaked whisper.

  “Sorry to disappoint. He brought you here for me. I promise once we get started you won’t miss him.” The man’s face, while handsome, was somehow cold and frightening. His eyes stilled her in place like a frightened hare coming face to face with a timber wolf. Even though she was afraid, she still had that ridiculous urg
e to jump into his arms and beg for a kiss.

  What is wrong with me?

  “Please don’t…” Zoey wasn’t sure what she was asking, but anything else she might have said was silenced when the man seized her and jerked her into him. She collided with his broad chest, feeling the hard muscles against her breasts through the thin protection of his shirt and hers.

  “Let me kiss you, love. Just say no if you don’t want a taste.” He licked his lips.

  She knew she should deny him, but she wanted that kiss, as stupid and illogical as it was.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  One large palm moved up to hold her by the back of her neck as he dropped his head, taking her mouth with his. His other moved down her back to shape the curve of her ass. He clenched it tight as he bit her bottom lip and invaded her mouth.

  Her body went off like a pail full of Black Cat fireworks. She couldn’t contain the moan of pure drugged pleasure and the wild urge to let him do whatever he wished to her. His tongue dueled with hers for dominance, and she quickly, willingly surrendered. When he coaxed her to enter his mouth, her tongue flicked against his fangs.

  The fog that flooded her brain when he’d started to kiss her was temporarily penetrated with a beam of clarity, like sunlight streaking through morning mist. He had fangs… She should be afraid that he was…was…what was he? Zoey fisted her hands now trapped against his chest and tried to push him back. She failed. He growled against her lips and then released her. His chest moved with rapid breaths and for some reason that eased her mind, if only for a second.

  “You want to be scared? I can scare you.” His voice had lost its gruffness. He was all silk and seduction now.

  She leaned one hand against the bathroom counter, trying to steady herself. Her legs insisted on buckling after that mind-numbing kiss. “What?”

  “Run,” he snarled. “Run and hide or I’ll rip your pretty little throat out!”

  Light gleamed against the stark white of his fangs and Zoey didn’t hesitate. She shoved past him and fled the bathroom. Her instincts finally took over and shook off the remnants of that insane arousal he’d spiked her body into moments before. She bolted down the hall toward the front door but he was suddenly there at the far end of the room, arms crossed, blocking the door.

  “That’s not how this game works, pet. You run, I catch you. Then I feed and we fuck.”

  Zoey stared at him from across the room as she tried to process his words.

  “Feed and…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the other word. It was so coarse, so raw, so…primal. She was torn between fear of what his fangs suggested and desire for what he was offering. Sleeping with him would be beyond anything she’d ever experienced. The riotous shivers rippling through her weren’t from terror, but pure lust.

  The man cocked one eyebrow and gestured for her to move. “Run. Now.”

  She didn’t understand what was happening, or why he was doing this to her but she didn’t want to stick around and find out. It was obvious her body was ready to betray her and encourage her to sleep with both this man and Ian. However, that was not what her brain wanted her to do so she had to escape before he got too close again. That sexy mojo he seemed to ooze that made her unable to think past her libido.

  There were other rooms, rooms that had windows. If she could just get to one and get outside, she’d find someone to call for help. Zoey picked the first door she came to and slammed it shut behind her. She flicked the lock into place. She darted over to the window and shoved up against the window sill. It didn’t budge. She hissed in frustration, fists smacking against the glass. There wasn’t time to bust through the window. Zoey whirled around, hastily scanning the room. Hiding under the bed? Not an option. The closet? Also not an option. She stared at the locked door and her heart leapt into her throat, lodging there as the knob jiggled.

  “Come on, pet. Don’t make me break the door. It is my bedroom after all,” the man on the other side teased. He had an Irish accent as well. Was this Ian’s friend Connor? She hoped not. Otherwise she’d have to warn Ian his friend was…was a…

  “Okay, I’m losing it,” she muttered. “He can’t be a vampire. That’s just ridiculous.” Her eyes zeroed in on the still jiggling doorknob.

  The man chuckled low from the other side of the door. “Not as ridiculous as you think.”

  Zoey gasped. The knob suddenly stopped moving, and the lock slowly twisted. She threw herself at the door, hands gripping the lock, fighting to keep it in place. It was a battle she knew she’d lose, even as her fingers screamed against the metal, biting into it as the door pushed inward.

  “No!” She dug in her heels, using her body’s weight to keep the door shut, but the man simply knocked it open. Zoey stumbled backward and fell against the large bed. The man stood in the doorway, the light from the hall turning him into an ominous silhouette of strength and danger.

  “Scared enough?” His question caught her off guard but when he advanced another step, she screamed.

  She scrambled backward over the comforter, sinking deep into the downy softness, giving him all the time he needed to pounce. He gripped her ankles and tugged. She fell onto her back as he dragged her toward him. Ian’s large white shirt rode up to her hips and she thrashed, fighting for her life. She expected him to force her legs apart and mount her.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, he drew her legs together, his touch tender but firm, winding one arm around her calves and holding her still as he climbed onto the bed next to her. Zoey pushed up on her elbows, breathing hard as he leaned over her. She wasn’t sure how long they stared at each other. The room was dark but his eyes seemed to channel what little light there was. The burnt sienna depths ensnared her, held her prisoner. His palm tightened on her calves and then after a moment loosened.

  He slid his hand up her outer left thigh under the dress shirt. “I don’t like it when you’re afraid of me,” he whispered. “Ian said to scare you, but…I don’t care for it.” He seemed to be talking to himself more than her. “The last thing I want is to frighten you or take you against your will.” His words cut through the rising fear and instead brought back that insane arousal she didn’t understand.

  “Tell me now, little one, do you not want me to touch you?”

  The hand beneath her shirt moved in slow circles over her hip, then her belly, his fingers drifting closer to her mound. Her entire body surrendered to the violent shaking that rippled through her. The gentle sensuality of his touch thrilled her, and the fear that had mounted in her seemed to ebb away. He didn’t want to scare her. Maybe he didn’t want to hurt her either.

  “I…I don’t not want you to touch me,” she admitted, unable to actually say she wanted him. It was close enough, and the way his eyes glittered, she knew he understood what she meant. She remembered something he’d said earlier. “Scare me? Why would Ian want to scare me?” Where she’d found the strength to speak, she didn’t know.

  He chuckled, his breath teasing her hair as he brushed his lips over her ear lobe. “Some women like a bit of fear.” His teeth grazed her neck. “Heightens their pleasure.” His tongue flicked against her skin. “But I don’t want you scared, I want you hot.”

  The word came out a soft growl and she was ready to surrender everything to him in that moment. It was wild and insane and she wanted him, was tempted by him. No man had ever made her feel this crazy, except Ian. Ian! She’d lusted after him before and now she was craving this other man’s touch. It was madness and she knew it, but she didn’t want to fight it any longer.

  The man’s hand drifted between her thighs, one finger finding her clit and pressing. She arched off the bed right into him.

  “There now, see? We don’t need fear,” the man whispered a second before he licked the shell of her ear. Sharp tingles of violent pleasure electrified her spine and she whimpered.

  �
��You…you’re not going to hurt me?” She eased onto her back and he followed her down, his mouth doing wicked things below her ear. His hand between her thighs began to play. His fingers parted the slick folds of her sex and stroked lazy patterns into her burning center. It was so hard to think, to speak, she just wanted him to take her, now, to bring her to a burning explosion so she could forget about everything but him.

  “No, pet. I won’t hurt you, but you may feel a sting.”

  His fangs sank into her neck. The pain was unexpected, but the pleasure that followed was even more of a surprise. Her hands found his biceps, and she curled her fingers into his skin as she held on for dear life, riding the building waves of pleasure from the bite and his touch. His mouth worked at her neck, sucking as he drank, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. He’d said he wouldn’t hurt her. As foolish as it was, she trusted him. Just like she’d trusted Ian.

  The man parted her core with two fingers and thrust them inside in a slow rhythm that gradually built in speed. She circled her hips against his hand, urging him deeper. She needed more.

  “Please…” she gasped and wound one hand through his long, dark blond hair.

  When he didn’t respond, she tugged sharply. He lifted his head. Blood stained his lips a deep red and his tongue flicked out, swiping the blood away. His warm eyes were wreathed in crimson, and his fangs now gleamed lean and dangerous from behind the curve of his sensual lips.

  Clarity cleared his gaze and he started moving his hand faster, his fingers pumping harder, deeper. He added a third finger and she screamed. Something detonated inside her, lighting her up like the stars in the winter sky. She imploded, all sense of self vanishing. She was in ecstasy.

  A distant crash invaded her cloud of hazy delight and the man leapt off her. Zoey blinked, trying to focus her blurry vision on another, someone standing in the doorway.

  “Zoey! Zoey, love, are you hurt?”