A Vampire for Christmas

by Laurie London

  He tried again. “I won’t be able to relax until I see that you’re home safe and sound.”

  If she said no, he could always follow her. Or he could check up on her later, assuming she lived in that same little house east of Lake Washington. Yeah, he could make sure she was safe, but she’d still be freaked-out. The overwhelming urge to comfort her and take away her fear was too much for him to ignore.

  She narrowed her eyes, tilted her head just slightly. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all.” He could’ve sworn he saw a hint of relief in her expression. He quickly paid the bill and ushered her out of the restaurant.

  CHAPTER THREE

  WHAT HAD POSSESSED HER to let this man drive her home? In her car?

  With one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the console between them, he sat comfortably in the driver’s seat of the Volvo, as if he’d been driving strange women home all his life.

  She studied him out of the corner of her eye. He appeared to be in his early to mid-thirties, the lines in his face apparent only when he frowned or smiled. His light brown hair was fairly short, yet long enough to look messy. Bed-head messy. He had large, capable hands, with slender fingers and short, neat nails. She’d always felt you could tell a lot from a man’s hands. His were fairly smooth, but there was a rugged quality to them that suggested they hadn’t always been that way. If those hands were anything to go by, she’d guess he had brains and brawn.

  One of the most attractive men she’d ever seen, he had an intense magnetism about him that was undeniable. If he’d kissed her back in the restaurant, she was pretty certain she wouldn’t have refused him. But letting him drive her home? God, what was she thinking?

  Rather than taking his car, he’d insisted they take hers, then he’d call a cab to bring him back. At first she’d protested. He’d done enough to help her out. But when she remembered her busy day tomorrow, she had second thoughts. The meeting with Mrs. Wilson was first thing in the morning. If she had to come back beforehand to pick up her car, it’d put her way behind schedule. She just couldn’t do that to the woman. Her client was keyed up enough as it was.

  Readjusting the bag of ice on her wrist, she stared out the window at the twinkle lights on the trees lining this city block. It wasn’t like she was pulling a Kari, going home with anyone who suited her fancy. She was simply taking up a Good Samaritan on his offer, that was all.

  She watched, mesmerized, as he tapped his pointer finger on the steering wheel to some unknown beat. Her heart seemed to synchronize itself to the rhythm. One…two…three…four.

  What would it feel like to have that hand sliding over her flesh? Her face heated at the thought. Would he be gentle or commanding? Were his fingers dexterous and skilled, able to find all the right places and know what to do when they got there? She was certain that this man knew his way around a female’s body. He was too gorgeous not to have been with many women.

  Okay, she seriously had to stop thinking this way. She shifted awkwardly in her seat, trying to eliminate the sudden twinge in her lower belly. It was as if she could feel the beat of her heart there. Calling to him. Needing him.

  Char, come on, girl. You’re not Kari.

  Reaching into her handbag, she pulled out a tube of lip balm and smeared some on her lips.

  It wasn’t just his hands that captivated her. His eyes did, as well. Inside the restaurant, she’d found herself staring at them, wondering if they were blue or gray. With just a rim of color around the edges, his pupils were unusually large, like twin tunnels leading straight to his soul. She could totally get lost in those eyes if she weren’t careful, agree to things that she’d normally never consider.

  At this time of night, traffic over the floating bridge was light. Less than a half hour after leaving the diner, they were pulling up to her house. She started to reach for the door handle and winced as pain shot through her wrist.

  “I’ll get it.” In a flash, he was out of the car and opening her door.

  She stared at the long, narrow walkway through the trees and cursed herself for not having replaced a few of the burned-out landscaping lights. The house was set back from the road and these patches of darkness would’ve really freaked her out if Trace hadn’t been with her. She couldn’t imagine walking here on her own after what she’d experienced tonight. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  She glanced at him as they strode toward her front door. She couldn’t help but notice that he carried himself with a casual elegance and didn’t look at all like someone who had just beaten up a couple of hoodlums in a dark Seattle alleyway. “It was nothing.”

  “So, what do you do for a living?” she asked as she stuck the key in the lock. “You really did seem like a law enforcement officer of some sort back there in the parking lot. Once I got over thinking you were one of the bad guys, that is.”

  One side of his mouth curved up and when he rubbed a hand over his jaw, she heard the faint rasp of his stubble. Her face heated at how intimate it sounded. It was the familiar sound, not of a stranger, but of a lover first thing in the morning before he’d shaved. The heaviness again gathered low in her belly at the thought of waking up next to Trace.

  “As a matter of fact, I am in private security. It’s a family-owned business. So I guess you could say that people’s safety and well-being is a concern of mine.”

  Ah, that explained a lot. She swung the door open and stepped inside. “Can I get you something to drink before the cab gets here?”

  He looked at her again with those fathomless eyes. “A glass of water would be great.”

  She put her things down and entered the kitchen. “I take it you work downtown?” Now that she was back home and feeling a little more centered, she had a million questions for him.

  “The company has offices all over the world,” he called from the other room, “but right now, I’m here.”

  When she returned a moment later with his water, he was thumbing through her design portfolio, which she’d left on the coffee table, and absently petting her cat.

  “Wow, Augustus doesn’t normally like strangers. I’m impressed.”

  A shadow passed over his face, but just as quickly it was gone. “You’re an interior designer.” It was a statement, not a question. “With your own business?” He sounded surprised. Did he not like her work?

  “Yes,” she said, her tone guarded. “I broke out on my own a few months ago.”

  He scratched behind Augustus’s ears, nodding thoughtfully as if he were analyzing a business decision. “And what is the name of your company?”

  “Charlotte Grant Designs. I do a lot of home decorating, also staging homes for sale.”

  He looked confused as he flipped through more pages. “What are these party photos?”

  For some reason, it pleased her that he’d actually looked at the pictures closely enough to notice that. “I’ve done some event planning, too. Small corporate affairs, mostly. Christmas, New Year’s, product launch celebrations, that sort of thing.”

  When she sat down next to him on the sofa, her hand accidentally brushed his. In an instant, a snap of static electricity tickled the tiny hairs on her arms before she jerked it away. She laughed nervously. “That was, um…weird again. It doesn’t usually happen unless I’m walking around the carpet wearing my fuzzy socks.”

  “Not a problem.” His tone, a tad deeper now, sent tiny chills along her arms. “How’s your wrist feeling?”

  “Much better. Thanks.”

  She glanced up to find him staring at her, as if he were looking at her for the first time. Her cheeks heated under his scrutiny.

  “You…ah…sure you’re okay?”

  She was touched by his lingering concern. Most men wouldn’t bother to ask, let alone notice that she might still be shaken up even if she seemed fine on the outside.

  “Yes, I’m much better now.” Because of you, she wanted to add.

  She was suddenly aware that her kne
e was almost touching his thigh. Less than a finger’s width separated them. If she relaxed her leg slightly, it would fall against his. Holding it very still so as not to brush him, she reached for the portfolio and turned the pages. “Here…ah…let me show you the pictures of one of the last events I did.”

  As he examined the three pages she’d devoted to it, a tiny muscle in his jaw flexed and his nostrils flared slightly. Was he pissed off? she wondered, tensing her shoulders. Her dad used to do the same thing prior to one of his tirades, like he was holding back his anger for a moment before it all exploded.

  “Does Xtark regularly employ you?” he asked icily.

  Surprised he recognized the company from the event photos, she was confused by his reaction. “Xtark Software? How did you know? Are you a gamer?” Although they designed other software, Xtark was known mainly for its games, and Trace didn’t strike her as someone who played them.

  “I’m familiar with their corporate logo.” He pointed to a picture. “It’s on this banner.”

  Still, that was very perceptive. “It was the first time I worked with them.” She chewed on her lower lip, wondering whether to leave it at that. But she had to know what was bothering him. “Why?”

  He hesitated as if he were considering his words carefully. “Let’s just say that I’ve heard about some less than positive things they may or may not have been involved in.”

  Talk about a qualifying statement. He sounded like someone who didn’t want to commit one way or another. Aware that their knees were now touching, she didn’t want to move for fear she’d only draw attention to the fact that she’d noticed. “They seemed fine to me. Very supportive of my ideas. They paid well and they paid on time. I’d gladly do more work for them.”

  He grabbed her hands, startling her, his expression ice-cold. “Promise me you won’t work with them again.”

  “Um…” It was the biggest check she’d received all year. How could she say no if the job came up again? “I don’t understand. Why does it matter?”

  “Because…I don’t trust them and…” He stared at her mouth. Her lips felt hot, almost swollen, under his gaze. Sparks of excitement shot down her spine. Was he going to kiss her? Her breathing grew shallow and she saw just the tip of his tongue before he spoke again, though this time it was more of a whisper. “And you matter to me.” He leaned in close and captured her mouth with his, stealing whatever it was she was going to say.

  SHE WAS MUCH TOO VULNERABLE. He couldn’t believe she’d done work for Xtark. Guardians had become suspicious that it was a front for Darkblood activities and were planning an investigation. No matter how much they paid her, it wasn’t a place for a human—particularly not a beautiful woman like Charlotte.

  Her lips were soft, her breath minty from the gum she’d chewed earlier. She leaned into him and he pushed his tongue inside before he could think about where that action would lead them. With a tiny moan that made him ache, she wrapped her arms around his neck, opened her mouth to his.

  He leaned into her, pushing her back onto the sofa, and slid a hand roughly up her shirt. His residual anger about Xtark morphed into a driving need to care for and protect Charlotte.

  Did she still wear the bras with the closure in the front?

  He reached up, caressed the soft flesh spilling out the top of the lacy cup. Yes, she did. His fingers easily unfastened the clasp and her breasts sprang free.

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered against his lips, as his thumb brushed over her nipple. Her fingernails scraped across his scalp, grabbing a handful of his hair possessively. “Yes.”

  That was all the invitation he needed. With one hand, he unfastened his jeans, eager to feel her from the inside for the first time in almost a year.

  Although he’d slept with other women since they’d been apart, it had been mindless, meaningless sex, meant only to keep his aggressive tendencies in check. Most vampires were very sexually active because of this, Trace included. But with Charlotte, things had always been different. Sex with her hadn’t been to simply satisfy a need. Sure, that was how it started, but they had connected on so many other levels, as well.

  “The bed,” she mumbled against his lips. It was a command.

  Not one to ignore an order like that, he pulled her from the sofa and led her down the hallway. He didn’t bother to ask directions; he knew the way.

  By the time they reached the bed, his erection was straining painfully behind his zipper. Without a word, he pulled off her boots and tossed them behind him. When he reached under her skirt to pull off her tights, she gasped, her eyes widening.

  Had he somehow read her wrong? Was this too much? Had he gone too far? Too fast? He hesitated, his fingers curled under the waistband of the tights, not moving. After all, he was a stranger to her and he was acting as if he’d done this with her before. Which he had. Only she didn’t know it. “You don’t want this?”

  A laugh bubbled from her lips. “Um, quite the opposite. It’s just that I don’t normally do this sort of thing with men I’ve just met.”

  Relieved, he flashed her a smile. The last thing he wanted to do was freak her out in any way.

  Without looking, he opened her nightstand drawer, found the condoms she kept there—he resisted the urge to count how many in the box were gone from the last time he was here or see if it was a new box entirely—and he quickly sheathed himself. Although a vampire couldn’t get a human woman pregnant, he needed to keep up the illusion that he was human. A twinge of guilt nagged at him, but he shrugged it away.

  She’d found out about the existence of vampires once and he’d suffered the consequences of losing her to a memory wipe. He wasn’t about to arouse any suspicions that he was anything but a normal human male. A man she’d never seen before. He was simply a one-night stand.

  “Oh, my God, you’re…you’re… It’s really big.” Her eyes widened as she stared at him.

  Masculine pride surged in his chest. Having her think that this was the first time they’d made love definitely had its advantages. He pushed open her legs and settled above her. Her inner thighs were warm and smooth, just the right amount of softness under his fingers.

  “Will it fit? I mean, well, of course it will, but…” Her nails dug into his forearms, her hair splaying out on the pillow beneath her like a dark, wild halo.

  “I’ll go slow, Char. I promise.” He kissed her mouth, her neck, the tender spot right behind her ear where her pulse beat frantically beneath his lips. All the while, he kept his fangs carefully in check.

  He reached between them, slipping a finger inside her. She was warm and silky soft. She moved against him, encouraging him to continue. Easing in a second one, he pressed his thumb against the little ball of flesh at her opening. She moaned against his lips and his fingers slipped in deeper.

  He chuckled. “It’ll fit now.”

  Her heart was pounding so loudly that he heard it in his head, like a drumbeat calling a warrior to battle. Thank God he’d taken blood not long ago and it was only desire that called to him now.

  Her fingertips were cool as they tracked up and down his back. He knew from experience that he’d be feeling her nails in a minute. “Good, because I really want you.”

  He grabbed the base of his erection and positioned himself carefully. As he slipped the tip between her folds, he stared at her heart-shaped face to gauge her reaction. Her lashes were thick against her cheek, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she waited for him to continue. Slowly, he pushed into her warmth.

  Holy mother of God. His fingers curled around the sheets beneath her and balled into fists. Her body was tight—so damned tight around him. Every fiber of his being urged him on, demanding he claim this woman as his own. Deeper, harder, all the way to the hilt.

  But he couldn’t. He needed to go slow.

  She hissed in a breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, hesitating.

  “Oh, my God. Yes.” Her short nails dug into his back, urging him
to continue.

  Inch by inch, he continued to ease himself in, pausing several times to give her a chance to adjust to his girth. It was a lesson in patience, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Finally, when she arched her hips a little more, he slid the rest of the way in. Out of habit, he reached for the small decorative pillow beside her head and tucked it beneath her bottom to keep her hips tilted up. She giggled.

  “What?” he asked, but then he remembered. She’s always found it funny that he used her pink polka dot pillow this way.

  “Nothing,” she answered. “It’s…this is…incredible.”

  Yes, yes it was. “Char,” he managed to say into her hair. “You feel amazing. I’d forgotten—” Man, he needed to seriously slap some sense into himself. He’d almost screwed up and told her this wasn’t the first time he’d made love to her.

  When they’d been together, they could hardly keep their hands off each other. It was as if their bodies were calling to each other on a totally different plane, demanding more than each of them expected. Then, in the car tonight, he’d tuned in to the beating of her heart.

  Want me. Take me. Love me, it seemed to be saying.

  And he couldn’t get that rhythm out of his head.

  Oh, God, how he’d missed this. Forgotten how it felt to have this woman beneath him. He kissed her and slid his fingers into her hair. There was that tiny moan again, vibrating against his lips. Rocking his hips back, he began to move inside her. A voice in his head said maybe it had been foolish to take her home, because it would be harder to stay away now, but he told it to shut up. He’d worry about that tomorrow.

  “So…so do you,” she said.

  He had to have her this one last time. The Fates had put him on the street tonight when she needed him the most. Yes, he’d indulge himself in her sweetness, then he’d never be back again.

  He pushed himself up and glanced down. He was now completely hidden within the walls of her body, liquid heat surrounding him. Like this, they were one entity with one goal, joined intimately for each other’s pleasure. He sensed the rapid beat of her heart as if it were his own.