The Bite of Winter

by Lauren Smith

  The water helped a little, but he was still too aroused over the helpless, little, human female. He needed to stop thinking about her, about the way she felt beneath him, the scent of her skin mixed with the natural scent of her desire. His own skin seemed to glow with a hint of color, a faint hum of warmth despite the icy water sluicing over his skin. Yet another sign of a true mate. Bloody hell.

  Connor shut off the water and stormed out of the shower, frustrated that he couldn’t make his body forget her. He curled a towel around his hips, scowling at the tent that popped up. He stopped in the hall, arrested by the most intriguing aroma. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smelled something that good.

  Curious, he padded toward the kitchen, following the scent like a bloodhound. It led to the take-out bags left on the counter. He opened the nearest sack and peered inside. Several small items were wrapped with wax paper. He reached in and retrieved a…taco? He unwrapped it and lifted it to his nose. The spices and the meat smelled good. Really good. He’d walked by a taco food truck just the other day and yet the scent there had been dull, a fraction of what he was taking in now. Connor cocked one hip against the bar and then took a huge bite. The taste exploded in his mouth, his taste buds set alive by the rich flavors.

  He scarfed down the rest of the tacos and explored the other sacks with growing interest, his stomach still rumbling.

  After fifteen minutes he’d downed half the fried rice, cheeseburgers and spaghetti, washing all of this down with three colas. His stomach was fit to burst, but the fullness was fantastic. It had been ages since he’d felt such need or felt so satisfied. How long had it been since he’d eaten human food? It had to have been before the Second World War…right after Lara died.

  Connor eyed the empty take-out bags.

  The sound of murmurs and sighs from Ian’s room reached him. With a sinking feeling, he was facing the simple truth again.

  Zoey. It had to be. She’d resurrected his appetite and, from the sounds of it, Ian’s sex drive. Connor’s as well, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d been as randy as a stoat when he’d gotten her on her back earlier. A frown tugged at his lips. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be reminded of everything he’d lost. Everything they’d both lost. And what they could lose again.

  No more true mates, no more mortal lovers. I’m done with them.

  Damn that Zoey Blake and her petal soft lips and killer curves. She was going to be the death of both of them.

  Ian’s room grew quiet. No more sweet murmurs or little sounds of lovemaking. Zoey’s light breathing penetrated the silence, but that was all. Connor glanced about the kitchen and the living room, feeling oddly alone. He’d never minded before now how barren their house was, or how not having a woman of his own felt. But now it did. There were no photos except the ones Ian took of places they’d lived, nor items from the old days to remind either him or Ian of the passing years. They’d both thought it best to keep looking forward.

  He and Ian had lived here for three years, and in that time they’d never met the neighbors or even spent time making this place a home. They couldn’t afford to, not when they had to move every fifteen years so people wouldn’t notice they didn’t age. Immortality was a stagnant state of existence, yet they were always moving, leaving life after life behind. Zoey’s presence in the house added something that he’d sorely missed, and it scared the hell out of him. Life was always followed by death, and he was so bloody tired of death, except, perhaps, his own.

  Connor threw out the empty take-out bags. Lizzy bumped against his shin, purring, and he bent down to stroke her. He’d given Ian hell for bringing the cats home at first, but he’d soon learned to tolerate having the animals around. Perhaps he even enjoyed them. It put him into a routine, feeding and caring for them. Although he’d never tell Ian, it was nice to have something alive to touch every now and then. Something that wouldn’t end up being his dinner, that is.

  He would have preferred to seduce a woman and stroke her instead of a cat, but women were too much trouble, and he’d long since abandoned pursuing them. The only females who received his undivided attention now were Lizzy and Cleo. Titus, the male cat, avoided him and the feeling of distrust was mutual.

  The cats were good for Ian too. They seemed to ground him. Give him purpose. Connor hated that he and Ian hadn’t spent much time together in the last twenty years and it was putting a strain on their relationship. Even though they lived under the same roof, he and Ian took turns going out to hunt for their meals, avoiding each other as much as possible. It hadn’t been on purpose, but now he saw that they’d fallen into a comfortable pattern living as near strangers. They’d once been like brothers, but the years had distanced them and he longed to get that brotherly camaraderie back.

  Once again his mind strayed back to Zoey. No doubt she’d be a strain on their relationship too. Ian would want to keep her, like every stray he came across. And Connor would protest. But Zoey was human, not a cat. If she stayed, he’d end up bedding her. It was only natural; she was an attractive woman and he had only the wickedest thoughts of what he’d like to do to her. He was man enough to admit it. If Zoey stayed under his roof, he’d have her on her back, screaming in pleasure before long.

  But Ian wanted her too…hence the complication.

  They’d been able to share Lara with no jealousy. She’d loved them both and they’d cared only for her happiness. They had feared it would be hard to be with a woman and share her since neither man was attracted to the other, but she had made it easy. She’d been one of a kind.

  Connor doubted Zoey would be willing to share a bed with two men, even if their sole intent was to fuck her mindless with pleasure.

  A wave of sudden fatigue rushed through his limbs, and Connor knew he’d delayed too long in getting back to his room. Dawn must be minutes away. The exhaustion was numbing. Fighting it off, he stripped his towel and dropped it halfway down the hall. He stumbled into his room just as the heavy metal blinds installed in his windows dropped down, settling him in darkness. Though the daylight would not kill him, it would put him into a heavy sleep and if left too long, it would eventually burn his skin severely. He collapsed onto his bed, letting exhaustion chase him into darkness.

  Damn, he wanted to be holding the mysterious sensual Zoey. But she was with Ian…

  * * *

  The thin layer of ice on the black asphalt was more treacherous than Zoey realized, until it was too late. She tightened her mitten-covered hands over the steering wheel but her grasp slipped. Tires squealed and the light from her headlights spun out over the cliff’s edge.

  Zoey screamed, but it was cut short as the car skidded past the end of the thin metal railing. There was one moment where the world seemed frozen, and then it all dropped away. The pit of her stomach collapsed and seconds later, the screech of metal and the horrible crashing of her world began.

  The car rolled over and over. Snow, ice and rocks exploded through the empty space where the windshield had shattered. When the car came to a final stop, Zoey was trapped, her seat belt strangling the life out of her. She couldn’t breathe. Her mittens dug into the belt but she couldn’t get hold of it to jerk it off. Black dots spotted her vision and white pain seared her body. Even hanging upside down, the vision in her cracked rear view mirror was all too clear.

  Her parents were in the back seat. Blood across their faces, their eyes wide and sightless as they looked out past her, seeing only what the dead could see.

  “No…please, God, no…”

  Zoey woke with a desperate wail of deepest agony. Cold tears dried down her cheeks and wet the pillow below her. Cold arms were wrapped around her body and she felt the shape of a masculine body curled up behind her. For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was or who she was with. The icy cold body startled her, as though she’d woken up with a corpse, and she frantically scrambled out of bed. The bo
dy in the sheets didn’t move and she could barely make out the man’s features in the near pitch darkness.

  The awful memory of that horrible night was submerged beneath the tide of memories from the last several hours—the sharp sting of the stabbing in the alley, the surprise of Ian’s sudden rescue, the burn of his kiss, the ache of her body beneath Connor’s. Ian. It was Ian in the bed. Her heart started to beat again at a frantic pace, as though desperate to catch up with itself after being still for several seconds.

  Ian’s bedroom was so dark that Zoey was hesitant to move at first. She didn’t want to stub her toe on a bedpost. Her eyes sought the only source of light, a sliver of gold that crept in from beneath the door to the hallway. She tugged the edge of Ian’s shirt down and shivered. It would be so easy to crawl back into bed with him, but he was so cold. His heart didn’t beat. It was not the most comforting or natural thing when she started to think about it.

  Zoey didn’t want to go back to sleep, not just yet. The dream still lurked in the corners of her mind. The guilt that ate away at her threatened to resurface. Her mouth was dry. A glass of water would be good. There had been too many nights where she hadn’t slept well due to dehydration. She eased the door open and slipped into the hall, looking for the kitchen.

  The clock on the sleek black oven read 3:45 PM. She’d slept through most of the day? It was such a relief to realize she’d gotten more than a few hours of sleep in one sitting.

  After finishing two glasses of water, she set it in the dishwasher. Everything in the cupboards was brand new and seemed to be unused. Zoey wondered if Ian and Connor even owned dishwashing detergent. Probably not.

  “Couldn’t sleep?”

  The husky murmur behind her ear was so soft and unexpected that she let out a squeak of surprise.

  She turned and came face to face with Connor’s bare chest. He was so tall she had to tip her head back to look him in the eye. She swallowed hard. His face was inscrutable, but the curve of his mouth had distracted her from whatever she’d been about to say. Warm brown eyes, like hot cocoa.

  His answering laugh shook her as he pressed close. Something hard dug into her stomach and she jolted in shock.

  “Easy, pet. ’Tis just my body making its desires known.” He curled one hand around the back of her neck, possessive and dominating yet not harmful. The message was clear. She wasn’t to move, to escape until he allowed it.

  “You’re naked!” Her voice was too shrill and breathless as she took in in the length of his lean, muscled…gloriously bare body. The blush that burst on her cheeks was hot enough that she broke out into a sweat. Rope after rope of corded muscle formed a six-pack of abs; she could feel every smooth hard contour as her breasts pressed against it. Damn, he was too tall, how could they ever…

  Zoey shook her head, failing to clear the fog of lust that swamped her. Never in her life had she been so close to losing all sense of control. This had to be what Ian told her about, the glamour, the vampire mojo as she liked to call it. There didn’t seem to be a world outside those perfect pectorals and biceps. There was just him. Connor. One hundred percent male. And she was a tiny delicate female by comparison. Knowing that he desired her sent bursts of electricity through her, both weakening her body and strengthening her own desires.

  Connor’s fingertips stroked her throat, the cool press of his fingers a balm to her fiery, sweat-covered skin. His gaze seemed slumberous as he looked down at her. She was a goner. He’d have his teeth in her neck, and she didn’t stand a chance.

  “Shall we get you naked too?” The suggestion flowed from his sensual lips with such lazy confidence that Zoey’s knees turned to jelly. She would have collapsed onto the floor at his feet, but she stayed upright because his hips jerked forward, digging into hers, keeping her pinned.

  “What do you think? Lose the shirt and show me that pretty skin, Zoey…” Her name, so often sounding childish when anyone else said it, sounded positively erotic the way the syllables rolled off his tongue. Her head felt light as she sucked in a harsh, much needed breath.

  “Umm…” Nope, there would be no more articulate words from her today. Cavewoman meet Caveman, her inner voice giggled wildly.

  Her mind blanked as he cupped her ass and lifted her into the air, then set her down onto the counter, bringing her face level to his. His hands cupped her cheeks, keeping her still. There was the barest hint of hesitation in his eyes, and then he took her mouth hard. She had no choice but to open up as he thrust his tongue inside. He seemed determined to devour her, consume her with his frantic play. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, digging her nails into him.

  Connor’s hands molded around her shoulders, squeezed, then slid down inch by inch along her back, tracing the curve of her spine until he found her hips and tugged hard, dragging her to the edge of the counter. His cock rubbed against her open folds, and she whimpered at the violent need she felt to have him inside her. He rocked, teasing mercilessly, but never giving her what her body screamed for.

  “Oh, God, please!” she rasped between deep, drugging kisses.

  His hands kneaded her ass, the movement along with his gyrating hips was going to end her… He seemed to sense that she was fraying at the edges and drew his head back, gazing directly at her. His eyes, once brown, were almost black now and wreathed with just a hint of crimson around the pupil that would have scared her if she hadn’t been driven insane with sexual need.

  His hands moved back up to her shirt at the collar and in one swift move, tore the shirt apart. Buttons went flying as he tossed the clothing away. He growled low as he held her away from him to stare at her exposed breasts. They felt swollen and heavy, the tips peaked and begging for his attention. She was too shy to ask, so she arched her back, offering them to him without words. Conner dropped his head to her neck, nibbling her collarbone with frustrating tenderness, then moving lower.

  Zoey hissed as he took the nipple in his mouth. He suckled hard, pulling on the tip, his tongue laving and his teeth scraping over it until she whimpered and moaned. Waves of heat assailed her and she fisted her hands in his dark blond hair. Her eyes clamped shut as cold air teased her breasts. He lifted his mouth away and straightened.

  He grabbed her by the waist and carried her over to the couch in the living room, stretching her out beneath him. Before she could react he’d flipped her onto her stomach and covered her body with his. She felt his cock slide between the cleft of her ass as he slid against her from above. His mouth was on her neck, kissing, licking, nibbling. One forearm rested by her shoulder, propping him up enough to prevent him from crushing her. His other hand cupped her breast, squeezed, pinched her nipple and smoothed its way down her waist to the fiery wet heat between her thighs.

  She raised her hips up, encouraging him to enter from behind, to take what she freely offered. His next growl sent skittering tingles along her spine as he cupped her between her legs, pressing the heel of his palm on her clit. She pushed against his hand, trying to rub against him, anything to satisfy the need clawing at the insides of her body.

  She cried out Connor’s name as he slid his thigh between hers, pressing against her bottom, the added pressure sending her over the cliff of self-control. She turned her head over her shoulder, needing his mouth on hers. He complied, briefly dueling with her tongue, feeding her thirst for more of everything, more of him.

  “I need…need…” Before she could get out the rest he sunk three fingers deep into her, pushing her open, stretching her to accommodate him. This was beyond anything she’d ever dreamed of, all muscle and strength, passion and sex in one tall, exciting package. He’d fuck her into a coma if she let him, and she wanted to let him. Sleeping with Connor would strip her of her soul. She’d become a mindless wanton creature craving him and only him and the idea was so appealing.

  Connor didn’t waste time as he worked her body to a frenzied climax. He rocked himsel
f against her bottom, mimicking the harried patterns of a wild mating.

  Her head flew back, pressing against his shoulder as she came. He continued to work his fingers, refusing to give her time to breathe as he brought ripple after ripple of ecstasy to the surface. Her body quaked, her limbs spasming beneath his body.

  Something warm splashed on her lower back and Connor shouted a curse, muffling it somewhat by lightly sinking his teeth into her shoulder, enough so that the sting sent a second smaller orgasm through her already weakened and sated body. The only thing that stung her in that moment was knowing he hadn’t been inside her. Was he concerned about pregnancy? Was that even possible with vampires?

  Finally, he released her neck, kissing the bruised skin before he sighed and rested his cheek against her.

  Connor held her for a long moment, neither of them thinking or speaking, just his body above hers, keeping her pinned to the couch as they both recovered. She didn’t want to move, couldn’t move. She wanted to stay here forever. Nothing else had to exist outside this moment. One wondrous moment followed by soft breathing and the gentle journey of coming down from heights of pleasure.

  The haze of desire was gone, but in its place was something more, something concrete she could cling to. Not glamour. Whatever had just happened between them, and what she was feeling now, that wasn’t because of that. Her thoughts were lucid now, even as tired as she was, and she still wanted him, wanted to be in his arms, even just to be held.

  Zoey’s eyes had almost drifted closed when she felt Connor shift above her and get up. She protested with a lazy “No…”

  He returned with a damp dishtowel. Smoothing the towel over her lower back and between her thighs, he wiped her clean. She ought to have been embarrassed, but she was too exhausted to care. He got up again, disappeared through a door just off the kitchen, probably the laundry room. Turning on her side, she watched him as he walked back. He was so beautiful and…still aroused. She dropped her eyes and blushed, all too aware of him and his… She shut her eyes and feigned a yawn.