Don't Bite the Bridesmaid

by Allee, Tiffany

  His proximity rendered her slightly breathless, but his strong arms kept a small distance between them as they danced to the music. Somehow, the steps seemed easier to follow with him leading the way, even though for the life of her, she couldn’t keep her focus on counting the steps in her head. The music thrummed through her, booming as if coming from her own heart, and she rocked to it. Her feet glided across the wood floor, and for a few moments she felt almost as graceful and sexy as the Latin music demanded.

  Then she tripped, on absolutely nothing. Noah pulled her a little closer until she got her balance. Heat rushed to her face. “Sorry, I’m not the best dancer,” she mumbled.

  God, he smelled good. Not like cologne, but of something spicy and exotic, with just a touch of sweat. She hadn’t realized vampires sweated. But they did. He’d sweated quite a bit playing volleyball. Olivia had never sweated. But then, Olivia was more of an indoor brainiac, and not much of an athlete.

  “You’re doing fine,” Noah said, but he looked over her shoulder at the other couples, avoiding her gaze. She glanced back to see if something had caught his eye, but the wedding guests all danced obliviously, trying—most of them in vain—to find the beat.

  They danced a little ways from the crowd, avoiding the occasional elbow to the side or stumbling of the couples around them, but the instructor’s voice was still clear over the festive beat.

  The instructor changed the music to a song that sounded almost exactly the same as the one that had played for most of the class, and Noah and Alice fell into silence, listening to the instructor’s words and obeying, but avoiding looking at each other. Annoyance raged through her. He kept her at arm’s length, as if holding her closer was distasteful. Anger replaced her embarrassment. She might not be the best dancer, but she certainly wasn’t that bad.

  “Okay change partners!” the instructor called. He pointed at Noah and her, then at the closest couple to them.

  “Looks like I’m cutting in,” a smooth, familiar voice said. Dammit. She’d almost forgotten Brent was even in the room dancing with Kristen. Everything around them had faded away with the exception of Noah. Kristen stood to Brent’s side, shifting her weight from foot to foot, looking carefully at the floor.

  “I guess,” Alice answered, and Noah narrowed his eyes at her. She gave Noah a meaningful look. A short dance wasn’t worth starting a scene. Brent smiled widely, triumphant. And as Brent tugged her away from Noah, Kristen moved to take her place. Alice fought the flash of jealousy that ran through her at the sight of Kristen in Noah’s arms. Noah was no Brent, and besides, she had no claim on Noah. Who was she to get jealous when other girls danced with Noah?

  The music filled the room again, far too cheerful and sexy for her current mood and her current partner.

  Brent danced like he did everything in life: with great precision and little passion. She danced just as mechanically, or as woodenly as she could with such a spirited type of dance. The smell of his cologne rolled over her, eliciting an odd swirl of emotions. The scent, familiar and almost comforting, also made her nauseous. Her body warred between taking more of it into her lungs and shoving him away so she never had to smell it again.

  “I wanted to apologize to you,” he said as they went through the movements.

  She looked up from his shoulder and met his gaze, startled. The number of times he’d apologized and admitted wrongdoing the entire time they’d been together could be counted on one hand.

  “I acted like an ass the first night on the boat. And I’ve been a jerk ever since. I—”

  “You’re apologizing?” She couldn’t help but gape at him. Brent Strub had just apologized. Someone needed to take a damn picture. Catch it on film. Something.

  He winced. “I owe you a lot of apologies, Alice. I realize that. And I came to this wedding intent on doing just that. But when I saw you—and then I saw him—” Brent shook his head. “Well, that’s neither here nor there, is it?” His eyes met hers, and they carried the bit of fervor that had always made her feel like he really cared for her. It wasn’t passion, exactly—she could tell the difference now, after looking into Noah’s stormy blue eyes before he’d kissed her—but it was powerful. “I’m sorry, Alice.”

  The music stopped and so did they. She stared at him, her mind refusing to offer her any remotely suitable response. He stared back at her, his expression wistful, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a little sad.

  A hard hand gripped her arm above the elbow, not quite painful, but firm. “I’ll be taking my dance partner back now,” Noah said, sounding like he spoke through gritted teeth. He pulled her away before Brent could argue.

  He swung her back into his arms and they resumed their dance, the music picking up with them. Her mind whirred at Brent’s words. She’d stopped listening to the instructor long ago, so she and Noah only danced the basic moves, while others in the class had gone on to learn fancier footwork.

  Noah still held her at a distance, and something in her snapped. She’d had just about enough of this night. Enough of Brent’s weirdness. Enough of Noah’s cool regard. If he didn’t want to dance with her, why on Earth had he come back for more? Propriety? Ugh.

  “Do you think you could make it any more obvious you don’t want to dance with me?” she said, knowing her tone sounded bitchy, but not caring. “I mean, maybe you could stick a chair or something between us so you don’t accidentally touch my repulsive body.”

  His gaze met hers and desire, plain as day, flashed in his eyes. There was nothing cold nor distant in his expression. Her stomach flip-flopped and she momentarily stopped breathing. They both stopped dancing, and anger warred with passion to dominate his expression.

  “You think I don’t want to touch you?” he whispered angrily.

  She glanced around, but they’d salsa-stepped a short distance from the other dancers, who huddled around the instructor so he could easily correct their motions. Brent’s eyes still followed them, even as he swung Kristen around the dance floor, but he was too far away to hear their conversation.

  “It sure doesn’t seem like you do.” She shouldn’t challenge him, something instinctual in her gut told her that was a bad idea, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. “What’s the matter, Noah? Afraid you’ll like it too much?”

  His lip rose in a snarl, but he yanked her roughly against his hard body, frightening her just a tiny bit. Nervously, she glanced away from him, briefly and accidentally catching Brent’s watchful eye. As if nothing had happened, Noah started the dance again, but his body moved so closely against hers that she could feel him. So tempting. So powerful.

  The air left the room, and it was as if they were alone with the thundering beat and Spanish words singing around them. There was nothing but him. His scent draped around her, filling her lungs with spice and a touch of sweat. He smelled like a man should smell. His hand slid down to caress the small of her back. His body directed her every movement.

  Heat slid through her and settled at her core. God, she wanted him. Wanted him to slip off her dress, and slide those strong hands down her body. Touch her and make her call out his name. She could feel it. He’d be as commanding in bed. Showing her what he wanted with his body. Reading hers just as easily.

  Crap. The music had stopped. When had it stopped? Noah held her close, one hand still on the small of her back, while his other arm encircled her waist, wrapping her in his arms. His face was so close to hers, and he moved down to her neck, burying his face in her hair.

  His lips touched her neck, brushing her skin lightly. He tugged her closer, and she could feel his erection pressing against her stomach. His very large erection. Her own immediate reaction surprised her. Her pulse quickened and she could feel color beginning to bloom on her cheeks. She inhaled sharply.

  The instructor cleared his throat, and Noah stilled against her. Slowly, his head rose from her neck, and his dark eyes met hers. Need so strong hit her that she didn’t care they weren’t alone, or what her family might
think. The obvious desire in his eyes made her instantly wet.

  And something was wrong with his mouth. The skin looked stretched around his teeth. Oh, God, his teeth. Were those his fangs? The thought of him sinking those sharp teeth into her skin suddenly didn’t seem frightening at all, and her knees grew weak at the thought. She shuddered softly against him, knowing he could see it in her eyes, see how much she wanted him.

  The class seemed to be emptying around them. People were talking. Saying things. Asking her questions. She couldn’t hear them.

  “Good night,” Noah called over his shoulder, breaking their eye contact. Then they were moving. Walking—somehow she was walking—out of the room.

  If there hadn’t been a crowd of Alice’s family members at the salsa dancing lesson, Noah wasn’t entirely certain he could have kept himself from pushing her down onto the dance floor and taking her right there. Dancing had been bad enough, but when she’d doubted him, anger had pulsed through him. Anger that quickly morphed into passion as soon as he’d pulled her close.

  Half-dragging her down the hallway, he was silent all the way to the room. To his surprise, so was she. And when the door clicked shut behind them, her wide eyes met his in a room lit only by the moonlight streaming in from their balcony.

  He stopped and stared at her. She was so beautiful, even now, with an almost grim expression on her face. Slowly, she kicked off her dancing shoes, and her eyes didn’t shy from his. He opened his mouth, not sure what to say, but somehow, he needed to break the silence surrounding them. She stopped him with a finger to his lips and a shake of her head.

  He wanted—needed—to touch her, but she stepped back again and pulled her blouse over her head. A thin bra covered her breasts, and he could see the outline of her beading nipples through the fabric. The swell of her breasts was pale in the moonlight. He hadn’t thought his cock could get any harder, but it did at the sight of her. And he couldn’t just stand and watch anymore.

  He closed the distance between them, and then took her mouth ferociously. The taste of the red wine they’d enjoyed with dinner filled her mouth. He wanted—ached—to sink his fangs into her skin. Vampire bites could give pleasure, and he needed so badly to give her every pleasure he could imagine.

  But he couldn’t bite her. So he forced away the urge and kissed her, expertly avoiding revealing his fangs with his possession of her mouth.

  He slid his hand down and palmed her soft breast. She moaned, his lips capturing the sound, and then he pulled away from the kiss.

  She was just as he’d imagined her to be—far more times than he’d like to admit. Her lips were swollen and her eyes heavily lidded with passion. He slid his thumb over her nipple and could feel it so tantalizingly close under the thin fabric.

  A warning flickered in his mind. This wasn’t the control he’d promised himself. He wasn’t supposed to make love to her. It wasn’t the logical thing to do. Hell, he was pretty damn certain it wasn’t the right thing to do. But he didn’t care. He’d never wanted anything so badly in his life.

  “Noah,” she said, voice weak.

  He closed his mouth over her nipple, the material of her bra still between his lips and her sensitive skin. She gasped, her fingers tangled in his hair. With his tongue, he stroked her through the fabric and was rewarded with breathless words. He sucked and licked at both of her breasts and then stepped back to remove her bra. He needed to see her, all of her.

  The bit of light in the room revealed her bra, now wet and translucent, with her dark nipples stark against her pale skin.

  “So fucking sexy,” he growled.

  He met her eyes, and something behind the passion startled him enough to form real thoughts. Fear. Or uncertainty, at least.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “We don’t have to, I mean—”

  She shook her head and chuckled. “Oh, we’re doing this. We are so doing this.”

  “You just looked—” he started. She unclasped her bra and let it fall, and he lost his train of thought. While he gaped at her, she dropped her skirt as well.

  And there was not one bit of material beneath it.

  Magnificent. That was the only word he could think of as he raked his gaze over her body. Perky breasts and smooth hips, she was the most perfect picture of a woman he could imagine. He met her gaze and quirked an eyebrow at her.

  She shrugged, a hesitant grin on her face. “Didn’t want a panty line.” When he couldn’t seem to move, she closed the gap between them. Slipping her hands inside his shirt, she slid them up and over his chest, exploring his body as he ached to explore hers. She pulled his mouth down against hers and kissed him. Soft, testing.

  Then, quite insistently, she tugged his shirt off. Her soft touches all over his skin were laced in fire. And when her lips nipped down his neck, it was all he could do not to toss her on the bed and take her like an animal.

  “Minx,” he said, instead. He traced his way down her body, caressing her softly, exploring. As he slid his hand down her stomach and teasingly touched her thighs, she gasped.

  And the second he touched her soft wetness, the urge to toss her down and have his way with her surged again. She was so ready. So hot and wet and perfect.

  Shit. He had to move slowly. Had to make this as good for her as he knew it would be for him. He nudged her toward the bed and helped her lie down.

  “Not fair,” she muttered, tugging at his pants.

  “All’s fair in war,” he said, then his mouth found her breast again.

  She chuckled, low and sexy. “Is that what this is? War?”

  He didn’t reply with words. Instead, he kissed her, then slipped his hand down to touch her again. She bucked against him, but he touched her slowly, languidly. Exploring her. Learning how she needed to be touched.

  When she moved against him, seeking her pleasure, he palmed her. Only when she relaxed did he continue his exploration.

  She moaned and writhed beneath him. “Fuck, Noah. Please.”

  He nuzzled her neck, enjoying that he’d pulled such a naughty word from the mostly proper Miss Shepard. She smelled so fucking sweet. The urge to bite her overwhelmed him. Her fruity shampoo, the wine on her tongue, the smell of her arousal. He pushed away from her and took a haggard breath. Air. He needed air. Air that didn’t smell so fucking tempting.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he managed. His teeth ached for her. His dick ached for her. One need he had to ignore, but the other—

  He got up from the bed and yanked his pants off. Alice watched him silently from the bed, her expression hidden in the darkness. He reached into the side pocket of his bag. She didn’t know he was a vampire. Didn’t know he couldn’t give her a disease or impregnate her. Thank God he had left that package of condoms in his bag after his last vacation.

  She pulled him to her as soon as he leaned over her on the bed. Her tongue slid against his. Her hand found his cock, and the urge to bite receded, replaced by an urge just as great. She stroked him and kissed him, and all he could think of was burying himself in her heat.

  The desire to thrust into her, take her with abandon, overwhelmed him. But he forced himself to slide in slowly, working to ease himself into her. Giving her body a chance to adjust. But she was so fucking warm and wet and—he rocked forward, pushing most of his length into her.

  Her body wrapped around him, and she thrust her hips forward, pulling even more of him into her body. She cried out his name, and her fingernails dug into his ass.

  He pushed himself the rest of the way into her tightness, and then forced himself to stop moving. She writhed against him. He held her still with his weight. Her scent enveloped him, and the urge to bite her hit again.

  He nuzzled her neck. So close. He sucked on her neck. His teeth slid against her skin.

  No. He yanked his face away from her neck. No. He wasn’t going to bite her. Her hips pushed against him and brought back the other hunger. Yes. That was a hunger he could sate.
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  He moved, thrusting in and out slowly.

  “Oh, Noah,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. She pulled his face back to hers, and she kissed him. Her body welcoming him. So tight, warm, and wet. He thrust harder. Her tongue slipped between his teeth, scraping against his extended canines.

  Blood. The taste filled his mouth as he shoved himself into her harder. Had to be careful. Could hurt her. Why was there blood on his lips?

  And then he couldn’t think. He could only feel her. Smell her. Hear his name calling from her lips. Feel her moaning against his mouth.

  He slipped a hand between them. He was so close. But couldn’t go there. Not without her.

  “Come for me,” he said, voice harsh and low.

  He touched her, stroked her. Pumped in and out of her. So fast. Had to slow down.

  Then she yelled. Something. His name maybe. He couldn’t hear because the blood rushed through his ears as her body contracted around him, shaking with her orgasm. She shuddered and cried out again. Her blood was on his tongue.

  He thrust into her again. Then the world exploded.

  Alice stared into the relative darkness of the room, so warm and comfortable, her back snuggled into Noah’s arms. But she couldn’t sleep. Despite the comfort. Despite the perfection of the moment. Despite the mind-blowing orgasm.

  Her thoughts raced.

  She’d slept with Noah. And it had been terrifyingly wonderful. Despite every logical part of her brain insisting it had been a mistake, she couldn’t regret it.

  It had just been too darn good.

  Not that she hadn’t had good sex before. She had. She’d thought she had. But sex had never been so…mind-blowing. She took a deep breath and Noah’s arms tightened ever so slightly around her.