“Do I need to remind you that several of my agents have been badly injured and one is fighting for his life?”
“And you blame yourself? That occurred down here in Seattle. You were up at the Region offices. How could you possibly be to blame?”
“All Guardians in the region are my responsibility. When something like this happens under my watch, it’s because I didn’t do enough. Didn’t prepare them enough. Didn’t recognize a dangerous situation when I saw it. Hell, I was the one who gave them the intel about the arms shipment. I should’ve seen something like this coming.”
“I’ll bet you anything Dom would be pissed off to hear you say that.”
He didn’t want to look at her face. She was right, of course. Dom would be livid. He could almost hear him now, saying how Santiago didn’t trust him. But he didn’t want to let her know that she was right. Being miserable took effort and he wasn’t quite ready to let go yet. For her to poke holes in his logic wasn’t helping.
“By taking the blame like that, it says you don’t have faith in your own people. That you don’t think they can make their own decisions. You’re the wise, know-it-all father and they’re just a bunch of children who don’t know any better.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“Then what is it that you’re saying by torturing yourself like that? They knew the risks going in. You can’t possibly be in all places, Santiago. You hired good people. You need to let them do their jobs. Being a Guardian is dangerous sometimes. It was Darkbloods who caused it. Not you.”
“But—”
“Bad things happen to good people. It’s not your fault, so you need to stop telling yourself that it is. The world isn’t a perfect place,” she said, her voice getting a little softer, “despite the fact that you’re in it.”
He wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.
“Aren’t you wiped out for days at a time after you do this?”
“Yes, but just like this massage, you have to go through some pain and discomfort to get to your goal.”
“And what is your goal, Santiago? To make yourself sick? To weaken yourself to the point that you’re incapacitated? There’s a reason they tell you to put on your oxygen mask before helping the person next to you. It’s because you’ll be no good to anyone if you don’t think of yourself first.”
When she put it that way, it made sense, but he couldn’t just discard decades of doing this to himself that easily. “I need to find out who’s betraying my people.”
“And you think self-torture is going to help you achieve that?”
“It reminds me what happens to losers, to those who are weak. I don’t want to be weak. It’ll make me stronger in the long run.”
“So it’s a punishment of sorts? As a way you cope with the stress?”
He nodded.
At some point she’d reached out and was stroking his arm. He liked the gentle, nonthreatening way she touched him. It wasn’t demanding or judgmental. It was just…Roxy trying to get through to him.
“Well, I can show you some other, less destructive ways to handle stress. Believe me, I know a thing or two about stress. But first of all, you really need to keep your energy up. If not, you’re giving negativity a foothold. If you’re dragging, you’re more likely to let things affect you in a less than positive manner.”
Still sitting cross-legged, she shifted to face him squarely. He liked that he was the object of her undivided attention. Excitement simmered in her eyes and tone, and she touched him occasionally to emphasize a point. She really believed this mind-over-body stuff and he rather enjoyed how she was drawing him in. He couldn’t help but be affected by her enthusiasm. Okay, so maybe some of this stuff did have merit. That massage certainly was incredible.
“What I’m saying,” she continued, “is that it’s a vicious circle. You feel shitty, so you do this to yourself and then you feel even worse. I would imagine it becomes harder and harder to pull yourself out of it.”
He’d been doing it for so long that he didn’t really have anything else to compare it to. It was a habit. It was part of who he was.
“Unless you have vials of blood in your little refrigerator over there, I want you to drink from me.” She held out her wrist.
Just the mention of her blood had his gums aching. “No, this is my problem. I will not make it yours.”
“Fine.” She made a move to climb off the bed.
“There’s no blood in the refrigerator.”
“No big deal. I’ll go to the kitchen then. Surely, the field office keeps a supply on hand for emergencies.”
Her hair was messy, her face was fresh from her bedtime routine, and her T-shirt was stretched a little too tightly across her breasts. It looked like she was ready for bed or had just climbed out, which she had. And Gibson was just the one to try to take advantage of that if he saw her padding to the field-office kitchen looking like that.
“No, you’re staying here.”
“Well, you don’t look like you’re in any shape to stumble down there right now.”
“I’m not. Usually I just—”
She thrust her wrist under his nose and his fangs stretched from his gums whether he wanted them to or not. So much for mind over body.
“I know it’s not a perfect substitute for human blood, but it’s better than nothing.”
Tiny blue veins crisscrossed just under the surface of her delicate skin. His teeth would easily sink in if he bit her. The visible flicker of her pulse caught his attention—the thump, thump, thump showing exactly where he should place his fangs. How would she taste? Given how good she smelled, he imagined it’d be exquisite. He found himself supporting her forearm in his hands as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
“Yes, that’s it. There you go.”
And because he was too weak to fight it any longer, he held her wrist to his mouth and with as much gentleness a starving man could muster, he let his fangs puncture her skin.
She inhaled sharply at first then caressed his shoulder encouragingly as her blood began to flow and fill his mouth.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had another vampire’s blood. Or maybe it was the fact this was so amazing that it drowned out any memories of having had it before. He only allowed himself a few swallows before he released his hold on her and sealed the puncture wounds with a lick.
“You can take more than that.” Her voice was husky and her eyes had darkened.
“No, that’s enough. I’ll feed from a live host tomorrow.”
“No vials?”
“Nah, I prefer to live life on the edge.”
They both laughed.
“Thank you.” Then, without thinking whether it was a good decision or not, he pulled her close and kissed her.
Her lips were hot against his, eager, inviting, demanding. She smelled of eucalyptus oil, which, he decided, was his new favorite scent. Without breaking the kiss, he pulled her on top of him again, only this time he was facing her rather than having his back to her during the massage. She smoothed her strong but elegant hands over him as if she enjoyed feeling the muscles of his chest and shoulders. His erection was painfully hard as it pressed against her bottom, feeling every little movement she made. He held her hips down to increase the incredible friction between their two bodies. And from the way she moved, she was just as interested in feeling him, as well.
“Your clothes,” he managed to say against her lips. “Take them off.”
She pushed away then and sat up, leaving her hands splayed on his chest. A few strands of hair fell haphazardly across her face, her mouth slightly swollen from his kisses. “N-no. This probably isn’t a good idea.”
“But I thought… You don’t want this?”
She wouldn’t make eye contact with him. “I’m just not sure we should take things—us—any further. Maybe things need to remain platonic.”
At first he wondered if she was uncomfortable with him, but given tha
t she was still straddling him and her hands were still touching him, he doubted that was the issue. Could she be worried that this could lead to an us? He searched her face, looking for an answer, but she was so hard to read that he couldn’t be sure of anything. All he knew was that she was uncomfortable.
He thought about reminding her that many of their kind hooked up for casual sex and that it rarely led to anything more personal. But for some reason, he didn’t.
“I want you, Roxy,” he whispered. “I want…this. You…your hands feel so good on me.”
Say yes, he urged her with his thoughts. Let me make love to you.
He held his breath, his erection pressed hard against her, but still, she said nothing.
She absently stroked the tips of her fingers against his skin, her touch so light it left a tingling sensation in its wake. Clearly, she was torn.
“If you don’t want to, I can respect that. It’s just that…” God, this was so awkward. He looked past her, up to the ceiling as he searched for the right words. He wasn’t used to baring his soul like this, but for some reason, he felt compelled to open up to her. “Your nonjudgmental concern about my…problem makes me feel…well, closer. To you. And I want more. Of that.”
Her hands stopped moving, the faraway look in her eyes gone. “Another disadvantage of that UV business,” she said, grabbing the hem of her T-shirt, “is you’re too weak to properly undress a woman you plan to make love to.”
Yes! His heart banged against his rib cage. He was dimly aware that his words—truthful, secret ones, spoken from a place deep inside—not barked demands, were what had swayed her.
In one graceful movement, the shirt was gone. And there, almost within reach of his mouth, were her breasts. God, they were perfect. He wanted to run his tongue over her dusty pink nipples and see if he could get them to peak even more than they already were.
As if reading his mind, she arched her back and with just a slight lift of his head, one was in his mouth. His fangs hadn’t fully retracted yet, so he took great care not to score her tender skin. He brushed his tongue over the tip of one nipple and softly twisted the other one.
She moaned and pressed her bottom harder against him.
While he suckled and licked, she somehow managed to slip out of her yoga pants and strip off his boxer briefs. Cool fingers gripped the base of his erection and stood his shaft up. Her body wriggled above his as she positioned herself just so, and before he knew it, he was plunged straight into heaven.
It was hot in there, so slick and tight. If he weren’t careful, he’d finish inside her before they really got started.
“Oh, God, Santiago,” she gasped. “You feel so amazing.”
Hearing her say his name like that filled him with an incredible amount of masculine pride. He wanted to roll over on top of her, cover her body with his, and get her to scream it the next time as she came. But even with her blood circulating in his veins, he still was fairly weak, so he let her ride him instead.
She shoved his hands above his head and held him there as she slid up and down his length, making tiny adjustments so that he rubbed her just where she needed it. Fortunately for him, everything she did rocked his world, so he could sit back and enjoy it.
Her breasts teased him, just out of reach. He tried to lift his head, to pull a nipple into his mouth again, but the way she held him prevented him from moving much.
“Can you release my hands?” He could pull free, but he decided he’d rather have her do it. It was strangely erotic having her control him like this.
“Only if you tell me why.” Her eyes were dark, heavy with lust. “What will you do if I let you go?”
“I want to rub my hands along your buttocks and thighs, feel your muscles working just under the softness and I can’t do that with you holding me immobile like this.”
A mixture of amusement and satisfaction flitted over her expression. They both knew he could escape her if he tried. “You do?”
“Yes.” He liked that she had some womanly curves, that his fingers would be able to grip her slightly before they encountered the hardness. In his opinion, women needed curves. They didn’t need to be smaller versions of men. Just because they were softer, didn’t mean they weren’t every bit as capable.
“What else?”
“I want to reach around and feel where we are joined together, where I fit into you. To get a little of your silkiness on my fingers since I didn’t get a chance to do that before we started.”
“Are you saying you feel deprived that there was no foreplay?”
“I do enjoy it, yes. I would’ve loved seeing if I could pleasure you that way, but I don’t feel deprived.”
He was pretty sure her inner muscles tightened around him just then. And things definitely felt slicker as the friction between them changed ever so slightly. Was she turned on by the sex talk? One thing was certain, he definitely was—the pressure in his balls was almost to the breaking point now.
She released his hands then and kissed him hard, her mouth fervent and demanding. He did what he told her he was going to do. His fingers found the union of their bodies, where she was stretched tightly around him.
“Ah, that’s what I’m talking about.” She was slick and hot. “I like that. Very much.” She’d better be about ready, for if she wasn’t, at this rate, he wouldn’t last much longer.
Again, the tightness increased around him. Was she—
“I’m coming, Santiago,” she said breathlessly against his lips. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
That was just what he needed to hear. All the nerve endings along his shaft became hypersensitive as she shattered around him. Holding her hips down to keep himself seated as deeply into her heat as he could, the last thread of his control snapped. One powerful thrust was all it took and he released himself into her body.
And in those few glorious seconds, when everything faded into the background while their pleasure intertwined, his world came unglued and sharply into focus, all at the same time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN THE MAN walked through the front door of Big Daddy’s Brew Pub and weaved his way around the crowded tables, everyone looked up and glanced in his direction. With broad shoulders, a rugged face and ass-hugging jeans that fit tightly around his thick thighs, his commanding presence filled the entire space. Someone dropped a glass, a guy at one of the pool tables missed his shot, and three women in a nearby booth stopped their conversation to stare. Instinctively, they sensed there was something different about him. Maybe even dangerous.
Cosette was the only human in the place who knew why.
“That’s him?” she said, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat. Although he appeared to be a normal human male—albeit a tall, very powerful-looking one—he was a Guardian, whatever that was. If they were even half as evil as Darkbloods, she was in a lot of trouble. Not that she had much of a choice.
“Yes, Cosette, it is.” The sound of that deceptively sweet female voice saying her name sent shivers down her spine.
She wasn’t sure whether to be more nervous about the vampire in front of her or the one behind her. Either way, she was caught between a rock and a very hard, unforgiving place. But family came first, which was why she agreed to do this.
“He’s the target you’re to contact.”
Target? Contact? It sounded so James Bond-ish. So clinical. The woman should’ve just said, “Yes, that’s the man you need to seduce in order to save your sister.” That would’ve been more appropriate.
“Okay, then. Here goes.” She grabbed her order pad and made a move toward him, but the woman stopped her.
“Hold on.” She reached for Cosette, quickly unbuttoning the top two buttons of her shirt and untucking it from her jeans.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she said, trying to pull away from her. It gave her the willies for this woman to touch any part of her even though she wore latex gloves. Cosette had wanted to know why she had them on, but she was
afraid she wouldn’t like the answer.
A few patrons glanced over at them. The woman sank deeper into the shadows, pulling Cosette with her and pinning her against the wall. Cosette turned her head away so she wouldn’t have to look at her.
“You are not to draw attention to me or this little plan of ours, do you understand? Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Cosette reluctantly complied, noticing immediately that the woman’s eyes were even darker than before and the tips of her fangs were now indenting her lower lip.
“You’d better pray he didn’t hear your outburst just now. If he even suspects that your seduction is a setup, your sister dies. In fact, I’ll see to it that she becomes my next meal. Have I mentioned how utterly famished I am?”
Although the woman had a benign, totally unremarkable appearance, Cosette had a feeling it was carefully orchestrated. She wanted to blend into the background and not stand out for someone to remember later. Even Cosette, who’d seen her a few times now, would be hard-pressed to single out anything distinctive about her. Shoulder-length blond hair, average height, jeans, sneakers and a plain navy sweatshirt. Except for the freaky grayed-out whites of her eyes, half the women in Seattle matched that description.
But those eyes—
They were the eyes of a shark. Unemotional and deadly.
“I’m…I’m sorry.”
The tension in the woman’s face relaxed. “That’s a good girl. I’m simply making you more appealing to him, which increases the odds he’ll take you up on your offer. Males, whether human or vampire, are goal-oriented, lazy creatures. The slutty look tells them they’ll get what they want without expending too much effort to get it.” She tied the ends of the shirttails above Cosette’s midriff, exposing some skin. “You need some lipstick. Your face is too pale.”
Yeah, because you took some of my blood.
She shivered. Even her fingers and toes had gone cold.
The woman gave her a hard appraising look from heat to toe, appearing not to miss a single detail. Flyaway hair? A stain on her shirt? Lint on her shoulder? Shoes on the wrong feet? She acted like a stage mom, an evil one…or a madam.
Seduced by Blood Page 11