Gypsy: Sons of Sangue

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Gypsy: Sons of Sangue Page 21

by Patricia A. Rasey

Grayson chuckled. “I’d be the last person Blondy would look up or tell what he was up to. I’m not exactly one of his favorite people at the moment.”

  Tamera took in a deep breath. “I suppose that’s my fault.”

  “Not entirely. But Blondy’s not why you came all the way up the coast, is it?”

  A slight grin crossed her lips. “You wouldn’t take my calls.”

  He wouldn’t bother denying it. “I thought it was better if I didn’t.”

  “For who?” She reached out and ran her palm down his bearded cheek. “After the night we spent, you didn’t even call. I couldn’t help wondering what was going through your mind.”

  Grayson grabbed her wrist and pulled it away. “I didn’t call because it wasn’t appropriate. I shouldn’t have slept with my MC brother’s mate. I can’t even begin to ask Blondy to forgive me for that.”

  “I don’t belong with him, Gypsy.”

  “No.” Grayson tightened his hold on her wrist before hauling her flush against him. “You don’t.”

  Without waiting for a response, he covered her lips with his. Grayson didn’t bother waiting for the invitation. He knew she’d allow him anything he desired. And damn if he didn’t desire it all. He swept his tongue over her lower lip before delving inside, tangling with her tongue. One of her hands lay trapped between them over his racing heart, and the other, still in his grip, he anchored at her lower back. Grayson wasn’t about to let her go. Now or ever. Had there really ever been a choice? He wanted this woman more than he had any woman in his past. Somewhere along the way, she had become as important to him as breathing.

  But love her?

  Damn if he hadn’t fallen. Hook, line, and sinker. He would need to keep his feelings to himself for the time being, though, until he found a way to petition Vlad. If the old ruler allowed her to be his mate again, then he’d open himself up and allow her in. He could no longer imagine a time where he didn’t have her wrapped in his arms. Not just any woman would do. Grayson may have resisted the idea from the beginning, but he was no longer willing to deny himself. He wanted this woman in his life, now and forever.

  Until he made that happen, he planned to take his fill. If Anton wasn’t tapping into what had been his right, then Grayson planned to take his own right back. It was time to claim this beautiful, hard-headed woman as his own.

  His erection lay hot and hard between them, telling Tamera his exact intentions where she was concerned. She certainly didn’t seem to be arguing. As a matter of fact, if her moans were any indication, she seemed to be all in.

  Grayson broke the kiss, leaving her panting as her black mirror-like gaze took his in, no doubt wondering if he’d send her packing. “You don’t have to worry, il mio dolce rossa. I plan to fuck you. But not here.”

  Her gaze turned wicked. He liked her boldness. After having so many women at his beck and call, there was only one who could be his equal. Tamera matched his libido and then some. There would no longer be a need to have more than one woman in his bed. He had a feeling if he tried to bring home a third person to the party, Tamera might just bleed the poor soul dry.

  He gripped her hand, entwined fingers, and led her to the vacant beach. White caps rose and fell across the dark horizon as waves slapped the shore. Tamera smiled, her white fangs contrasting against her skin as she looked into the ocean.

  “I can see why you like to come here. It’s beautiful.” She turned and looked at him. “Will you teach me to surf?”

  Grayson chuckled again. Out of all the things she might ask, he would have never guessed she wanted lessons. “You want to learn to surf?”

  “I can only imagine the rush you get. Just you, the board, and surrounded by nothing but water.” Her eyes turned up in the corners, mirroring her bright smile. “Will you teach me?”

  “Tomorrow.” He tucked one side of her hair behind her ear, resisting the urge to tell her he would give her anything. “Tonight, I have other plans for you.”

  “If it refers to what you were talking about out by the road, I’m not opposed.”

  “Come here.” He gripped her forearm and pulled her forward, nothing but the ocean breeze separating them. “If we do this again, il mio dolce rossa, then you must know I have no intention of sharing. I ask you again, has Blondy touched you?”

  She shook her head, her face illuminated in the moonlight. The truth of her answer shown in her eyes.

  “Then he’s never to touch you. Do you understand? I’ve never staked my claim before. I don’t do so lightly.”

  “Does that mean we will be mated?”

  “It’s complicated. I made my decision, il mio dolce rossa. I can’t just take that back.” He let go of her and ran his fingers through her hair, palming the sides of her head. “You have no idea how I regret my hasty decision.”

  “I’m still yours, Gypsy.” Tamera wet her lips with the tip of her pink tongue. The sight tugged at his groin. “I always have been.”

  He had already said too much. To keep himself from promising her forever, when he wasn’t sure Vlad would even allow him his petition, he leaned down and covered her lips again. He breathed her in, tangled with her tongue, and ached with want. No more denying himself. He’d take what he desired and worry about the ancient ruler tomorrow. One thing was for sure, he knew without a doubt, Vlad wouldn’t take his actions lightly. He might as well be committing adultery. He hoped to hell the old man took pity, and his penance didn’t cause either of them their lives.

  * * *

  Tamera could hardly breathe. It seemed she had waited forever to hear from Grayson that he desired her. But stake his claim? Lord, his admission had her heart tripping over itself. She didn’t doubt for a minute he had never once said the same words to another female at the Rave, or otherwise. So many had tried to land the elusive vampire, and yet not a one had accomplished the deed. Rumors spread amongst the donors, ranging from fear of relationships to sexual addiction. Grayson Gabor was a player, sleeping with a wide variety of women, but not one could ever lay claim to him for more than a night or two.

  From the moment she had spotted Grayson in her parents small five and dime, she had sensed a connection, a mutual desire. So when Rosalee had first approached her, promising her everything from immortality to landing the playboy vamp, she had been all in with the hopes of landing him as a mate.

  What she hadn’t counted on was how diabolical the vampire bitch truly was. Tamera had been completely naive to believe she’d be handed those promises and more without having to offer Rosalee something in return.

  Rosalee wanted a mole in the club, someone who could help with her plan to rid the earth of the Sons, one biker at a time. If it were as simple as sacrificing herself to the primordial, she’d do so in heartbeat, give her life to Rosalee in hopes to save the Sons from the ramifications of her poor choices. Rosalee hadn’t wanted her life, though. Instead, she had threatened that of baby Stefan’s. Tamera had no choice but to follow Rosalee’s directives … for now.

  She needed to find a way to shake the bitch.

  Her conscience nagged at her to tell Grayson, let him know of her deception and how much she regretted it before things went too far. Maybe instead of hating her, he’d help her find a way out of the mess.

  Like hell. Tell him and become dead to him.

  Tamera knew unequivocally Grayson would not only turn his back on her, but so would the entire club. Not one Son, Anton included, would come to her rescue. She’d be an outcast, a pariah. Tamera would be better off facing Rosalee on her own. First they needed Vlad’s blessing, mating her with Grayson, before Tamera opened her Pandora’s box. She could only hope, in time, he’d find it in his heart to forgive her.

  She had messed up royally.

  Grayson broke the kiss, his breathing labored. His gaze took in the gritty sand at their feet. She could almost read the question in his mind. Just as he glanced to the beach house, Tamera gripped the hair of his beard and forced his gaze back to her.

  �
��Don’t you even think about taking away my chance at hot sex on the beach. That’s what showers are for.”

  Grayson chuckled. “You’re likely to regret that when you find all the crevices sand can get stuck.”

  “The only regret I’ll have, Gypsy, is not making love to you in the moonlight. You let me worry about the discomforts of the sand. Lie down. You’re shorts will keep the sand from getting in your ass. I don’t need them off to get to this.”

  Her hand smoothed over his hard ridge hidden by the boardshorts worn low on his hips. She didn’t have to ask him twice as he lowered himself to the sand. Tamera pushed on his shoulder, urging him to his back. He looked freaking hot in a pair of shorts and nothing else, like he was born for this life by the ocean. Tamera removed her lacey panties from beneath the short, slightly flared, rayon skirt, slowly pulling them down her legs and shimmying out of them. Tossing the white panties to the beach beside Grayson, she straddled his thighs, her knees hugging his ribs. His black gaze traveled her length, but kept his hands to himself as he laced them behind his head.

  Her white skirt pooled around him, hiding her from his view. Nothing but the polyester boardshorts kept her from feeling the silkiness of his cock against her heated flesh. Tamera thought she might just die from want.

  Waves tickled their feet as salt water wet the sand before retreating back to the ocean. The night couldn’t be more perfect or electrified as she slowly rode his cloth covered erection. Tamera palmed her breasts, covered by her skin-tight black tank top. Her nipples pebbled beneath her palms. Grayson’s eyes fixed on her hands kneading her breasts as his erection twitched between them.

  A muscle in Grayson’s cheek ticked as he seemed to war with his self-control. Seeing the effect she had on him made her all the more brazen. Releasing her breasts, she slowly ran her hands down her stomach to her thighs, all the while watching as Grayson followed the path with his blackened gaze. She grabbed the black string of his shorts and deftly untied it. Tamera tucked her hand inside his pair of O’Neills and released his cock. Grayson hissed as she wrapped her hand around the velvety flesh, sliding it from base to tip and back.

  “Don’t toy with me, il mio dolce rossa, lest you find yourself flat on your back with sand sticking everywhere.” Grayson’s smile reflected white in the light of the full moon. His razor sharp fangs poked just beneath his upper lip, causing a shiver to run down her spine. His vampire side was a damn hot sight to behold. “I’m becoming short on patience.”

  Tamera laughed. “That’s my Gypsy. Always in a rush. Why not enjoy the beautiful night?”

  “You’re not the one in danger of getting sand in the crack of your ass.”

  “Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it won’t be the first time.”

  Grayson laughed. “Doesn’t make it any more comfortable.”

  She tightened her grip just beneath the head of his penis. “Should we prolong this?”

  “Fuck.” He hissed again. “Put a poor vampire out of his misery already.”

  Grayson yanked the neckline of her tank down, exposing her breasts to the cool night breeze. Her nipples puckered. Grayson rose from his reclining position in the sand, his mouth covering one breast. His fangs sank into the soft flesh surrounding her areola. Tamera sucked in oxygen. Her heart hammered against her rib cage as she teetered on the edge of an orgasm.

  All the while suckling her breast and drawing her blood, his tongue flickered over the taut nub. Desire shot through her. She no longer had the patience to take her time and enjoy the beauty of the night. Grayson’s grip on her kept her from being able to mount him.

  “Please,” she whispered, hoping to hurry him along. Tamera wanted to ride him like the waves at her feet, until her orgasm washed over her. She was damn close to it now.

  Her hands released him and slid up his pecs to his deltoids, where his upper back tattoo snaked over his shoulders. She loved every tattooed inch of him, including the Sons of Sangue vampire skull on his left peck. Tamera tilted her head, her breath stuck in her chest. Her gaze took in the light of the full moon just before she closed her eyes.

  “Gypsy,” spilled from her lips, as her orgasm stole the remainder of her breath, leaving her weak and sated.

  Before she had time to recover, he released her breast, licked the twin holes, then gripped her waist and settled her onto his thick erection. Tamera bit her lower lip to keep from crying out. Grayson watched her as he stayed his position, giving her time to accommodate his size. Needing little time as pleasure began building from within again, Tamera started rocking against him, setting the rhythm. Damn, but she could get quite used to this. Grayson had easily spoiled her for the rest of mankind. No one else could compare.

  Grayson best know she would hold him to the same standard of claim. If he even thought to please another woman, donor or otherwise, she would drain the twit dry. Grayson belonged to her and she wasn’t about to share.

  He dug his fingers into the flesh of her ass, increasing her tempo. Before he had a chance to withdraw, he grit his teeth and hissed, “Shit!” as his seed spilled forth. Her knees gripped his sides as she rode out her own orgasm before collapsing on top of him.

  “Fuck.” His breath labored from him.

  Not sure she wanted the answer, she had to ask. She used her forearm to brush her hair from her face. “Regrets?”

  “The sex? Never.” He lay back and looked to the stars. His thoughts seemed to be as far away. “I didn’t pull.”

  Grayson and her life were complicated enough. They didn’t need to add a little true blood into the mix. Not that she didn’t one day want to carry his babies. Just not now. They had far too many issues between them to bring a child into the world.

  “It doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll get pregnant, right?”

  “No,” he confirmed. Thank the good Lord. “But I don’t need more bad karma hanging over my head.”

  Tamera leaned down and briefly kissed his lips. “Why not worry about that if it happens? Right now, I could use a hot shower. You coming?”

  “Are you kidding?” He chuckled. “Even against my best efforts, I still got sand up my ass. I’ll race you.”

  Tamera giggled as she jumped up, grabbed her lace panties, and headed for the house. Grayson’s feet hitting the sand could be heard close behind.

  Chapter 20

  [Placing the binoculars to her eyes, Cara took in the gathering below. Four Devils, partially hidden behind the Blood ‘n’ Rave, circled the barkeep. None of them wore their cuts. Coming into Sons of Sangue territory, they wouldn’t want to draw notice. Draven had best stick to the plan. Anything less could get him killed. By the looks on the OMC’s faces, they hadn’t quite accepted the owner of the Rave at face value, even after nine months of working the deal. The Devils hadn’t blinked an eye when it came to slicing the throat of one of their own, not when they suspected he had turned informant. Draven’s life, to them, would mean even less. He needed to convince them of his hatred for the Sons, using the excuse the MC had cut off his lucrative business of selling ecstasy from his nightclub.

  Placing a wire on Draven hadn’t been an option, so Joe Hernandez wore a set of headphones attached to the bionic ear he held in the air. The wired recorder would tape the conversation. Cara wouldn’t need it, her reason for allowing Hernandez to control the sound as she manned the binoculars. Her amplified hearing would pick up anything said from this distance.

  The Devils had worked closely with the cartel over the past few years, so they were suspicious by nature. Anything less could cost them their own lives. The cartel didn’t mess around. You betray them, they take your life. It was as elemental as that. No taking it back, no second chances. These men weren’t clever gang members, they were a well-organized, criminal organization as well as cold-hearted killers with Type A personalities, bordering on sociopaths. Taking a life meant nothing. All in a day’s work.

  Cara watched as Draven rubbed the back of his neck. Beads of sweat dotted his
upper lip. No doubt his nerves caused the increased perspiration. Cara hoped the Devils believed it to be the elevated temperatures. Three of the Devils leaned against their bikes at his back as the fourth stood a mere foot from Draven’s front. The Devil’s hands were quite animated as he spoke. Cara doubted he’d be able to hold a conversation without them.

  His dirty blond hair whipped in the slight breeze, revealing the sides of his head had been shaved. His beard, a shade darker in color, damn near reached his chest. “Don’t fuck with me, Draven,” Cara heard him say.

  “We should have wired him,” Joe said from beside her. “This is working, but it picks up every other damn sound as well.”

  “Then maybe you should stop talking so we can hear what they’re saying on the playback.” Cara adjusted the binoculars. “You know we couldn’t chance putting a wire on him. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Draven. It’s our doing he’s down there.”

  “It’s his own doing, Cara. He’s the one who was selling X.”

  “But we asked him to take this deal.”

  Falling back into silence, Cara thought about Kane positioning himself within close proximity, along with Wolf, Xander and a couple of their prospects. Should something go down, the four Devils would be gurgling blood before they could call for backup. Should it come to that, it was Cara’s job to distract her partner from seeing the carnage. Once they finished with the stakeout, Cara had to report back to Captain Robbie Melchor upon return. Just lovely. How the hell had she drawn the short straw to have the DEA send his sorry ass back to Lane County? The dumb ass was lucky Kane hadn’t killed him on sight. And probably would have had Cara not stepped between the two.

  Joe stood quietly beside her, watching the scene unfold with avid interest. After all, this had been his case first. Draven took a step back from the blond Devil, putting himself out of arms’ reach and shaking his head. He held his hands out to his sides in a Christ-like post.

  “Look, those son of a bitches cut my profits.” He followed with a few more profanities. “Even so, I can’t kick them out of my club.”

 

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