* * * * *
The next thing Hope knew was the throbbing pain in her skull and the chill of the concrete against her aching cheek. Warily, she cracked an eyelid.
Mark lay a foot away, thick lashes fanning his cheeks with strands of gilt. His blond hair stood up on his head in agitated tufts, as if he’d been running his hands through it. Most of the blood and filth was gone. He’d had a shower. His cuts and bruises had likewise vanished, including that hellacious shiner.
Apparently vampires healed fast.
He looks so damned beautiful, Hope thought. Even more gorgeous than the eighteen-year-old hunk who’d made love to her with such surprising tenderness. His shoulders were broader now, and his arms more powerful, biceps rising in sculpted curves, tendons standing in hard relief on his wrists. He lay on his side, one brawny thigh bent, his cock lying curled along it.
She remembered how he’d made love to her that warm summer day beside the lake. He’d used his mouth to make sure she was ready for him, licking her clit with delicate devotion as she sprawled on the soft blanket in the grass. The orgasm had been a storm of delight her virgin’s body had never felt before.
He’d ridden her then, stroking slowly with his long, elegant cock, his fingers teasing nipples and clit, driving her higher and higher until she crested in a boiling surge of pleasure.
When the sun sets, Hope thought numbly, Mark’s going to wake up and rip my throat out. He won’t be able to help himself.
And it will destroy him.
She had to get the hell out of here before then.
At least she was no longer handcuffed. Her gun and cell were gone, of course. When she groped for the pocket of her oxford cloth shirt, she discovered the detonator was missing too.
Shit. Not that she particularly wanted to blow the house with both of them inside, but she’d like to have the option.
Hope grabbed one of the bars and used it to drag herself to her feet, moving as quietly as she could. She didn’t know if it was possible to wake a vampire in the daytime, and she didn’t want to find out.
God, she was sore. Every muscle ached from the Taser’s 50,000 volts, and her skull throbbed in time to her pulse. Exploring her head with gingerly fingertips, Hope found a fat knot on the side of her cheek from the butt of Hillman’s gun. It was tender and bruised, but she didn’t think he’d cracked her skull. An inch higher, and he’d have smashed in the thin bone of her temple. Sayonara, baby.
Instead, one of the vampires was going to get to kill her. Most likely the one she was in love with.
Hope scanned the basement, looking for something, anything, she could use to escape. The only furniture was a rough wooden table with straps bolted to the sides, its unvarnished pine splashed with sinister brown stains. Her gun, badge, and smartphone lay on it, her belt coiled around them, along with the scattered contents of her pockets. Including a gold Cross ballpoint pen.
The detonator.
Too damned far away to do me any good. Restlessly, Hope began to pace the cell, examining the welds and door, checking the lock, looking for a weakness. She didn’t find any.
I wish I knew what time it was. I’d like to know when Mark’s going to wake up and start looking for breakfast.
She was longing for a lock pick when he stirred and groaned. “Hope. God, Hope.”
Hope whirled, her heart slamming against her ribs. Her only prayer was to start talking, make sure he knew who she was. And count on the memory of a ten-year-old high school romance to save her ass—and his.
Chapter Four
“It’s me, Mark,” Hope said, working to keep her voice calm. “It’s Hope.”
His eyes opened into green slits, then widened as he saw her face. “Hope.” He squeezed them shut again. “Not real. You’re not real.”
“No, it’s me. I’m here. Unfortunately.” She grimaced. “Stone got control of one of the deputies. He kicked my ass and tossed me in here.”
Mark opened his eyes and looked at her. He breathed in, as if scenting her. And froze. “No. Oh, fuck, no.”
Ravenous hunger flooded his gaze in a glittering tide.
His body hit hers before she even saw him rise, ramming her backward into the bars. They rattled as pain screamed through her body. God, he’s fast. “Mark! Mark, no! It’s Hope!”
His big hand tangled in her hair, dragging her head back. Mark bent and sniffed her throat like a wolf, drinking her scent. His groan rang rough with need and lust as he ground against her, crushing her against the bars. His cock pressed into her belly, hard as one of his pipe bombs. Hope planted her palms against his chest and pushed, but he didn’t budge an inch. “Mark, get off, dammit. You’re hurting me.”
He rumbled a warning snarl.
Okay, we’re doing this the hard way. Hope hooked a heel behind his ankle and jerked, simultaneously giving his brawny chest a hard shove. By all rights, the Aikido move should have dumped him on his ass, but it was like trying to tip a tree.
Mark promptly wrapped one long arm around her, pinning her arms to her sides. Grimly, she started trying martial arts moves designed to get out of a hold like that, but he didn’t budge no matter how she kicked and fought. All she did was wear herself out against that ruthless vampire strength.
Meanwhile he licked her throbbing pulse. Slowly. His mouth felt hot and surprisingly soft. Almost gentle. If he tore into her jugular, she’d bleed out in minutes. “Mark!” She raised her voice to a shout, trying to get through to him with sheer volume. “It’s me! It’s Hope. We loved each other, remember?”
“My dear, I don’t think he cares.”
Hope jerked her head around to watch the vampire come down the stairs.
None of the crawling evil showed on Patrick Stone’s face. Instead, he looked like old, elegant money. His features were deceptively handsome, with an aristocratic nose, a jutting chin, and lips so thin Hope was reminded of a shark. He wore his graying black hair in a layered style designed to flatter his bony face. That gray pinstriped suit was tailored for his tall, wiry body, and the tie he wore was a precisely knotted splash of power red that matched the square-cut ruby on his left pinky.
Mark jerked Hope away from the bars and shoved her behind him. His warning growl sounded like something out of a werewolf movie. “Mine.”
“Oh, I have no intention of taking her, dear boy.” Stone gave him the smile his flock mistook for kindness. “Consider her my gift.”
Hope glared at him past Mark’s brawny shoulder. “I wondered where you were, bloodsucker. I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done to him. And his sister, and all the other women you butchered. You’re going to pay.”
“Oh, I very much doubt it. The only reason you’ve lived this long is that I gave him just enough blood last night to take the edge off.” Stone strolled over to the cell and folded his arms, rocking back on one black leather loafer as he appraised his prisoners. “I didn’t want it to be over too soon.”
“Why?” Hope ground her teeth and fought to control her terrified rage. Ranting wouldn’t accomplish anything. The idea is to get some information I can use. “What’s the point of this sick little game? Or is it just one more thing for you to jerk off to?”
The vampire gave her a look of aloof distaste. “I do not jerk off.”
“No, you prefer to rape and murder women who trust you, Preacher Stone.”
His arms slid out of their casual clasp as he coiled into a feral crouch. His eyes flashed red, like a dog’s in the headlights of a passing car. “Watch your tone, bitch. At the moment, you are useful to me as a way to break your boyfriend to the saddle. But if you push me, I’ll take you out of that cage and show you just what I do to little whores like you. And you’ll wish Lover boy there had drained you like a beer can.”
“Touch her and die,” Mark growled. He pressed back against her, flattening her against the cement block wall until Hope could feel the rumble deep in his chest. “She’s mine!”
Stone straightened from his crouch an
d laughed. “So she is.” He glanced down at his watch, a flash of gold against the white French cuff of his shirt. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to play. Tonight’s service is in a couple of hours, and I have to practice my sermon. I’ve written a wonderful piece on the sin of lust, but it needs a little tweaking.” He smiled tauntingly at Mark. “And there’s a very pretty young lady I’ve got my eye on. Finish your dinner and I’ll let you watch.”
Turning on his expensive heel, he started up the stairs, only to pause just before he pushed open the door. “You know, all that blood just might give you the strength to escape. Or not.”
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Hope twisted sideways and escaped the pressure of Mark’s body, ignoring the scrape of the block wall against her back.
Growling, he spun and began to stalk her, his narrow gaze fixed, unblinking, on her bounding pulse.
“Mark, listen to me.” She had to work hard to keep fear from shaking her voice. “It’s Hope. I love you. I should never have left ten years ago. I should have said yes when you asked me to marry you.” The truth of those words hit her, acidic with regret. “Maybe if I had, we could have killed him together. None of this would have happened.” She took a step toward him, a knot of pain choking her throat. “I’m sorry, Mark. I’m so sorry.”
He stopped. Recognition flickered in his gaze, and he straightened, as if he was really seeing her, instead of just a source of the blood he craved. “Hope?”
“Yes, baby, it’s Hope.” She forced a bright smile, her mind working furiously. Given his strength, fighting him was an exercise in futility that would probably do nothing but piss him off. She had to try something else and pray she survived.
Seduction.
Maybe she could use sex to reach through his bloodlust to the man inside. Make him remember her as the woman he’d loved. If she failed, he’d rip out her throat. But it might work, and just now she was fresh out of other ideas.
Hope gave him a slow smile. “Yes, Mark. It’s me.” She started toward him, swaying her hips as she started unbuttoning her shirt. Her hands shook so badly it seemed to take forever. Sweat rolled down her spine, but she smiled like a porn star and kept unbuttoning. Mark’s green stare started to remind her of a cat contemplating a wounded canary.
Finally the last button slipped through its buttonhole, and she let the shirt slide down her arms. His gaze locked on the pale mounds of her breasts in the lacy white bra. She let the heat bloom in her smile and twisted her arms behind her to unhook the clasp. The bra joined the shirt.
It was cold in the cell. Her nipples rose into tight, dark rose points. Mark stared at her bare, swaying breasts as she moved toward him. “Beautiful,” Mark whispered. “You’re so beautiful. You always were.”
He was actually talking to her, and he sounded relatively sane. Maybe it was working.
“So are you.” Hope toed off her shoes and unsnapped her jeans. Her heart hammered frantically as she stripped, and she had to force herself to move more slowly. Seduction, Hope. This is a seduction. She had to get this right, or neither of them would survive.
Hope slid the jeans down her legs, stepped out of them, and straightened, posing with one knee bent. Judging her moment by the gathering heat in Mark’s eyes, she reached for the waistband of her panties. As she slid them down her thighs, she gave her hips a teasing little roll. The feral glitter softened.
When Hope was finally naked, she stood surrounded by her puddled clothing, chin lifted, shoulders back, breasts boldly outthrust. Take a long look, baby.
Mark’s cock lengthened, sprang upward to its full, impressive length, flushing as it grew.
Watching Mark Wilder get an erection sent a tingling rush of heat and power flooding through her. She became aware of his sheer size, of how he towered over her, his chest so broad and brawny under its dusting of golden hair, his legs braced wide, big feet planted on the concrete floor.
He stared at her through the blond tangle of his bangs, eyes bright and green. And aware, thank God, as they hadn’t been a few minutes ago. It’s working!
He wanted her. As a woman, not as prey.
So Hope dared to walk over to him and touch the warm muscled plates of his pectorals, running her fingers through the soft golden hair that grew on his chest.
“I remember making love to you.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She swallowed, licked her lips and tried again. “Nobody has ever touched me the way you did. So tenderly, so sweetly. You were barely more than a boy, but there was such magic when you kissed me. I was so dazzled by you. The star quarterback, my best friend’s big brother. I’d had a crush on you for years.”
His pupils expanded, darkening the jungle cat green with human passion. “I remember.”
“And this.” Boldly Hope reached down to dance her fingers along his thick shaft, stroking the thick, warm vein running along its top. “You entered me as if I might break. I was a virgin, but you made sure I was aroused and ready, so there was no pain at all. Just sweetness.”
She looked up at him through her lashes, watching his expression carefully. “Remember that day on the lake? The wind sighing in the grass, the water lapping the dock. The sun, so bright and warm.”
“Oh, yeah.” He bent his head and kissed her. His lips brushed over hers, a slow silken slide. She rested one hand against his chest and sighed. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, a suggestive pumping thrust. His cock jerked in her hand. When he drew away, he was breathing hard. “I’ve never forgotten you, Hope. And God knows I tried.”
“I did too.” Hope slipped a hand beneath his bobbing shaft to take the warm, furry weight of his balls in her palm. “I looked for somebody to love, to give me what you had. But I never found anyone who fit me the way you do.” And now I never will.
Shut up, Hope.
“You’ve been part of me all these years. My personal ghost.” She sank slowly to her knees. “My midnight regret. If I’d married you. . . . ” Hope licked away the drop of pre-cum that glistened like dew on the head of his cock. “I wouldn’t have been left so empty and aching. Instead I went to school in New York. But the city was big and cold, and you weren’t there. God, I missed you.” Angling up his cock, she licked it again. The taste of him burst on her tongue, hot with Mark’s unique masculine spice. She’d never forgotten it. “I was so fucking stupid.”
“I dreamed of you,” Mark told her roughly. “Sometimes when I walked the streets searching for IEDs, I’d see your face in the blowing sand. I’d have to jerk my attention back to the job. I’m lucky I didn’t get my ass blown off.”
Ahhh, now that sounds like my Mark. She smiled a little and sucked him into her mouth. Welcome back, baby.
Mark watched Hope’s wet tongue dance over the head of his cock before she leaned in and started suckling him so hard he felt his toes curl. Her fingers caressed his balls, and the double sensation sizzled along his nerves, distracting him from the clawing hunger in his belly.
He couldn’t remember how she got here. It was as if she’d just appeared in his cell, summoned by sheer, hungry desperation. When he tried to recall the last hour, all he got were disconnected impressions that flashed through his mind like delusions. He wasn’t even sure if they were real.
Stone’s hated face, mocking him, threatening to take her away. The smell of blood with its maddening offer of relief. Holding a woman. Hope? Feeling the softness of her body in the desperate grip of his arms as she’d writhed against him. He wasn’t sure if she’d been fighting him or trying to seduce him.
He just hoped to hell he hadn’t hurt her.
Dangerous, Mark thought. This is so dangerous. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, but Hope only tightened her delicate grip on his cock.
Every time she stroked him, licked him, suckled him with such elegant ruthlessness, another jolt of sensation danced through his body.
At least the pleasure seemed to calm his prowling vampire hunger. He could think for the first time since l
ast night, when Stone ran a knife across his own hairy wrist and stuck it through the bars. Mark had wanted to rip the bastard’s arm open and watch him bleed to death, but Stone’s relentless grip on his mind wouldn’t allow it.
Unable to resist the raking pain of the Thirst, Mark drank the fucker’s blood and lost himself again.
Now somehow Hope was sucking his cock. He fought to hold on against the waves of surging delight that rolled over him with every tongue flick and clinging, wet pull. He didn’t dare lose control again. He might kill the woman he’d loved.
Still loved. Always would love.
Chapter Five
“God, that feels so good.” Mark combed Hope’s gleaming hair back so he could watch her suck and stroke him. He’d never seen anything as erotic as the sight of her lips tight around his cock, the slow rock of her head, the slide of one graceful hand on his shaft. After the torture and anguish of the last week, the pleasure seemed to sear his senses with a delight so pure, it was almost painful.
“Enough!” he rasped, and pulled from her grip at last. Much more of that, and he’d spill into her mouth.
“Let me. . . . ” She reached for him again, but he stepped away.
“I want to touch you now,” he told her hoarsely, drinking in the sight of her slim nudity, so pale and perfect against the gray concrete floor. He dropped to his knees. “Let me touch you.”
Hope blinked those honey amber eyes, and he glimpsed a flash of fear before she hid it behind a thick screen of sable lashes. “All right.”
The pink tip of her tongue stole out to wet her lips, and Mark just had to kiss her. Looping an arm around her shoulders, he drew her into his lap, rocking back on his haunches. The warm weight of her silken body came down on him, pinning his cock deliciously against his thighs. Her sex felt so soft against his shaft, the delicate lips parting, gently teasing. “Hope,” he groaned. “God, I’ve missed you.”
She wrapped her long legs around his waist and looked down at him from her perch on his lap, searching his face. She must have found what she was looking for. Her lovely mouth covered his, and her tongue slipped between his lips. It retreated demurely, and he chased it with his own, licking and suckling, loving the heady taste of her after so many empty years.
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