by Selena Blake
So he wasn't taking no for an answer. Predictable. Dameon honestly thought he could have whatever he wanted, when and however he wanted it. It would serve him right if she strung him along for the week and then cut him loose. That's essentially what he'd done to her all those years ago.
Could she get him to fall for her again? Could she create a deeper emotion, reestablish their bond?
He glanced from her to Selma and then his gaze swept the rest of the group. Did he have to look so good? The black swim trunks clinging to his lean hips left little to her imagination. There'd been a time when she'd kissed and caressed each and every inch of him.
“Have room for one more?” he asked, stopping next to her.
“Sure,” she said, and turned back to where Selma was giving instructions for how to put on their gear.
Dameon shook hands with Maxim and Shade, who greeted him like an old friend. Valencia cut her eyes, not sure she appreciated the men getting chummy with her ex.
“Where’s Latham?”
“Oh,” Rosanna said, “something came up.”
Valencia felt firmly out of the loop, but then, she’d hidden in her cottage since the Masquerade. Dameon obviously hadn’t.
When they were all ready to enter the water, Selma flipped a switch and a second set of lights illuminated a wide swath of the water below. There was a collective gasp, not just because the school was swimming within the arc of light but because it was one of the most beautiful sights she'd ever seen. There was something about the inky darkness all around them and yet the crystal waters were lit, almost as if the water itself was alight with fire. White fire.
Suddenly, Valencia couldn't wait to be in the water. To be enveloped and embraced, to taste the saltiness on her tongue. She'd merely existed for far too long.
Dameon was the second man in. Shade was right behind him. The demon reached for Izzy as she shimmied backwards down the ladder. Once upon a time, Ceara had been quiet and painfully shy. Now talked a mile a minute to her mate and Valencia felt a grin stretch her lips as she descended the ladder. It was nice to see Ceara come out of her shell and feel so at ease, not just with the group and her mate, but also, a demon.
She tried not to imagine the pain Ceara must have suffered after a rogue demon had murdered her parents, but— “Are you getting in or just testing the water?” Dameon's voice sounded from below.
“I would splash you, LeBeau, but I don't want to scare the fish.”
The problem was, she felt like a fish out of water in the flippers and mask. The snorkel dangling next to her face made her feel like a clumsy rhinoceros. There was simply no way to appear elegant and poised while flapping around like a frog.
A cool hand wrapped around her right ankle and gave a swift tug. She lost her grip on the ladder and hurtled toward the water. Dameon caught her against his chest and had the audacity to chuckle.
“You're hair's wet, princess.”
“And whose fault is that?” she asked, disengaging slowly, making sure he felt her body.
Avery was right; the red one piece swimsuit was the perfect tool for this little...excursion.
“Mine,” Dameon admitted in that deep voice of his. His tone was so seductive, so husky that he made the single word sound like he was staking his claim rather than admitting blame. “All mine. They're mammals, by the way,” he murmured as he swam off to join the group.
Valencia tread water as best she could. Despite her inhuman strength, the fins banged together at the end of her feet. Perhaps this would be easier without their assistance. After a moment though, she got the hang of it and managed to keep her head, and her hair, out of the water.
“What are?” she called.
He turned back, just a few yards away. The lights beneath the water lit his face and she saw the smirk gracing his lips. “Dolphins. They're mammals. Not fish.”
Valencia rolled her eyes and swam after Ceara and Maxim. That was three times now he'd gotten the last word. He was giving her a complex.
Selma was right; swimming with fins was very different from swimming in the pool back in her estate. Just when she thought she had the hang of it the extra weight on her ankles would drag her down. And she didn't particularly care for the way they propelled her awkwardly through the water.
It took her twice as long to join the group as it did Dameon, but then, it wouldn’t surprise her if he’d gone on an excursion of the Great Barrier Reef. When she caught up, everyone was face down/snorkels up in the air. The dolphins swam in a circle toward the end of the pier, their silver bodies slashing in the light. They were far more graceful in the water than she was, she mused as she fit her mask down over her eyes.
Looking under the water's surface was like entering a new world. Exotic, colorful, delicate and graceful, she paused, breathless, to admire the sight beneath her.
The dolphins undulated through the water as if they were dancing to a song. It seemed like they were carrying on a conversation as they swam around each other, weaving through the group.
A small one turned toward her, darting to her left. A few more followed suit until the whole pod had changed direction. Selma swam up next to Valencia, took her by the wrist and held out her hand as a massive dolphin swam by.
Valencia's fingertips slid against the slick flesh and she felt the raw power coiled inside the animal. Several more swam by and her heart squeezed when one paused before her. She held her breath and stopped moving her legs. Her feet sank down into the water as the animal stared at her with a dark eye.
According to Ceara, dolphins were incredibly smart. What was it thinking? Did it mind that humans shared its waters?
The dolphin gave a graceful bob of its head and slowly swam away. If she were the fanciful sort she'd swear that it waved goodbye with its tail.
Her next breath was full of salt water. She coughed and sputtered, the back of her throat burning. Strong arms closed around her middle and lifted her upward until she broke the surface. She spat the mouthpiece out and ripped the mask from her face. A steady hand rubbed her back as she caught her breath.
“Better?” Dameon asked.
She nodded.
Izzy's head popped out of the water next to them. “Dat was amazing!”
The sea, which had been much calmer twenty minutes ago gave, Valencia a shove toward the shore. That was enough snorkeling for her.
Shade and Maxim flanked Izzy and propped the masks high on their heads. Cal and Rosanna weren’t far behind.
“Did you see the baby one?” Izzy asked Shade. Her smile was wide.
Valencia turned in the water, looking for the pier and the ladder. Selma and Ceara were swimming toward the group and even over the waves, Ceara was asking question after question.
“Well, that worked up an appetite,” Shade said. “You guys wanna grab dinner with us?”
“Sounds good,” Maxim replied and swam toward Ceara.
Once again, Valencia felt a pang in the region of her heart as she watched Ceara throw her arms around Maxim’s neck and press kisses against his strong jaw. She really did miss that.
And Dameon’s strong hand at her back only drove home everything she’d almost had but was currently missing.
Izzy, Selma and Shade made for the ladder leaving Valencia alone with Dameon. He continued to rub her back as the others made the climb up to the pier and stowed their equipment.
“Come on Dameon,” Maxim called as he followed Ceara. “And bring the dolphin whisperer with you.”
Beside her Dameon chuckled again.
“Dolphin whisperer?” she asked, puzzled.
He laughed harder, his hands leaving her. She started to sink back into the water but gave a swift kick to right herself.
“It feels good to laugh again,” he murmured.
She frowned and then gingerly made her way toward the pier. “What do you mean?” she asked, remembering her plan to make him fall for her again.
He was silent for a long time but just as she reached for the ladder, he spoke.
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“I haven't had a reason to laugh in a long time.” His words were so earnest, so sincere that she didn't doubt he'd told her the truth. He'd revealed a part of himself.
“Me either,” she said before she thought to stop herself.
Flustered by her own admission she climbed the ladder as quickly as she could. Selma helped her dispense with the gear and Valencia reached for her towel. She wanted to flash to her room for a long warm shower but saw the other three couples waiting halfway down the pier. Ceara was pointing off to the water, probably telling everyone to look at the dolphin she'd spotted.
“Thank you for showing us your world,” Valencia said to Selma as she packed away the masks and flippers.
“Yes, thank you. What an extraordinary place,” Dameon added, his hand at the small of Valencia's back.
Her body zeroed in on his touch even though she knew how dangerous it was. He was dangerous. If only she could fake a headache and go directly to the cottage.
But Ceara wasn't having it. She and Izzy waved Valencia forward.
“Come on, Dolphin Whisperer,” Dameon said. “Let's go hang out with your friends.”
“Since when do you hang out?” she asked, sounding haughtier than she'd intended. But it was a valid question. He didn't “hang out.” He always had an end game in mind; he networked with purpose.
“Times change, Val-dear.
“Do they?” she heard herself ask. But the truth, the sad truth, was that she secretly hoped times did change. Just like the war between the weres and vamps had ended, she wondered if there could ever be peace between the LeBeaus and the Fabelles. Not that any of her family was left. And she stayed far away from all things LeBeau.
Until today.
“Yes.” He stepped closer, crowding her. She stared up into the face that she knew as well as her own. So well, in fact, that she could probably mold him from clay, blindfolded.
She'd studied him up close for so many hours that she knew every contour, every shadow, the angle of his nose, and the chiseled contour of his jaw by heart.
But that was a long time ago. A very long time, in a faraway land, surrounded by people who had died centuries ago.
So much had changed, and yet he was still so very much the same.
Rather than stepping out of the way and following her friends up the beach, he took another step in her direction. Her breathing quickened.
“You're struggling with yourself, sweetheart. I can see it in your eyes. The little flashes of silver.”
He didn't touch her but somehow she felt like he was caressing her. Invisible hands pressed against her back, holding her where she stood, tempting her flesh. It'd be so easy to lean against him again as she had countless times before. But there was so much left unsaid between them. So much pain.
Could she ever get over her past?
Could she change?
Chapter Seven
Valencia's indecision was almost a living thing. Dameon could feel the chaotic thoughts swirling around in her head. She glanced away and then back at him as if unsure if she could trust him, trust herself. Her gorgeous blue eyes flicked with silver, just little pinpoints of molten metallic. Almost like mercury dropping into blue paint.
He admired that she was holding herself in check, thinking things through, but he wanted her passion. He wanted her body. He wanted to possess her soul and feel it click into place with his. It'd been so long since he'd lost himself in that way...
If he was being honest he hadn't felt that way since he'd been with Valencia. Somehow she managed to blot out the chaos of his life and let him just exist. Just be, even if for a brief moment of time. No responsibilities, no bickering, no infighting, no pain, no past, just pleasure. Just her.
And she was doing it again, bewitching him. Making him forget everything but her and those silver flecks in the loveliest pair of baby blues he'd seen in his three centuries on his earth.
She tore her gaze away then and sighed. “I am trying to decide if I should slap you.”
There was a trace of humor in her voice and he clung to it like a lifeline.
Dameon warred with the old feelings, the burn of betrayal, the certainty that the woman he loved more than life, family, money, power had stood him up. She had not come. She would not be marrying him.
He remembered it all because he thought of that night every single day, drudging it to the surface like mire from a river bed.
He’d kept it close to the surface all these years and used it as fuel to succeed. To press on when life got too tough. To remember what he'd had and lost and why he should never trust again.
But it’d all been a lie. His gut twisted and he took a deep breath.
For so long he’d dreamed of asking her why. Why she’d toyed with him, why she’d led him on, made love to him, made him fall for her. Why had she stood him up?
It was the single question that'd burned in his mind for centuries and yet right now, in this moment with the warm breeze lifting her dark hair, he wanted nothing more than to pull her against him and kiss her. To feel those slender arms wind around his neck, to have her run those fingertips through his hair, scratch her nails gently over his scalp.
“Let me give you a reason to,” he said and reached for her.
There was a moment, just a singular moment in time where her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. But rather than looking like a fish, she looked adorable. Desirable. Breathless.
The startled expression was quickly replaced and her lips closed until there was the smallest fraction of space between them. Her lashes fluttered and she leaned into him as if she didn't have the will to stay away.
Her cool fingertips met his hips and he snaked a hand around her back, pressing against her spine. He cupped her jaw with his other hand and gave her one more second to put a stop to the whole thing. But she didn't halt it. She didn't say a single word and she didn't slap him.
She just stared at him until her eyes were completely silver with emotion.
Would she taste sweet like she used to? Or like the cocktails she loved to drink on the island? Or perhaps like the salt of the ocean?
He closed the distance between them and slanted his lips across hers. Her skin was cool, but as always, she ignited a fire in him in an instant. Heat swept through him, over his skin, down his spine and settled in his groin. She didn't move, didn't make a sound.
His lips coaxed hers wider and he saw the instant she gave in. Inside he roared with pride; he was winning this round. Her eyelashes fluttered and she closed her eyes. Tongue sweeping into the wetness of her mouth he tasted the salt from the ocean. There was that hint of Valencia, a sweetness, a tint of minty freshness.
So she'd brushed her teeth before she'd gone to a dolphin excursion. Because she anticipated seeing him again?
He pulled her hips closer and made no attempt to hide the erection tenting the front of his swim trunks. She'd caused the problem; let her feel how badly he ached. And oh, how he ached.
The pressure building inside him stole his breath, but he couldn't blame his breathlessness entirely on that. Part of it was kissing this woman again. Feeling her nails flex into his skin ever so slightly as if she was trying to pull him closer. And again, she was at war, the conflict holding her firmly to the pier below their feet and yet she wanted him.
He felt it in the way she touched her tongue to his. Tentative at first but then quickly, bolder, aggressive. They were both winning this battle and losing the battle with themselves.
He'd have it no other way.
If he was going to sink, to drown, he wanted her right there with him.
And she was.
Her hands coasted up his chest and he puffed up beneath her palms, eager for her touch, happily reminding her what he felt like. Slender fingers slid north into the wet strands of his hair. She sucked on his tongue and raked her nails over his scalp at the same time.
A single thought sent them spiraling through space and time. Their feet planted on soft carpet an
d the sounds of the ocean faded. To his surprise and pleasure, she didn't lift her head to see where he'd flashed them to.
Her hips rotated against his and she thrust her tongue into his mouth. The cool air from the air conditioner chilled his skin and hers too. But he hoped that the pebbled points grazing his chest were because of him, not because she was cold.
He backed them up a step, wanting to tell her how he'd missed this. But now wasn't the time. No matter how much he'd missed her touch, her kiss, the feel of her body bearing down on his cock, he didn't want to throw ice water over them. Words were not the answer.
Climax...that was what they needed.
He needed to shave the edge off of a point that had been filed all those years ago. She'd left him, kept herself from him and it hadn’t been her fault.
It was past time to remind her how good they'd been together.
She bumped into the bed and he followed her down. He left her lips to trail kisses down her chin, then her throat. She tipped her head back giving him complete access; it was a submissive gesture for a vampire.
He lifted his head and gazed down at her for a full second. A minuscule amount of time to be sure, but long enough for him to memorize the look of her. Lips plump from his kisses, eyes shuttered with anticipation, chest heaving with the ecstasy of it all.
Memory made, he kissed his way down to the V between her breasts. The brilliant red swimsuit had snagged his attention immediately and he'd been unable to take his eyes off her lithe frame. She'd always been willowy, so graceful he sometimes felt like a blundering fool in her presence.
But right now his mouth was watering to taste her again, to see her completely, unencumbered. And his hands trembled as he hooked his thumbs beneath the straps and exposed her to his gaze. He pulled the wet material to her waist and quickly covered her pert breasts with his hands.
It was good to be a vampire. The incredible healing ability meant she didn't look a day over twenty five and she'd defied gravity just as she'd defied him.
No. Not him. His family.
Unable to resist, he closed his lips over a pretty peach nipple, and flicked it with his tongue until she moaned. To his delight, she was always a vocal lover and he never had to guess as to her mood. Back then anyway. He was glad to see that some things hadn't changed.