Bonding and turning Alice—that wasn’t something he was certain he was ready to do. And it damned sure wasn’t something Alice was ready for.
Charles was silent on the other end of the line, but Noah could picture his drawn expression. Charles never lost hope. He was ever the optimist. But a situation had finally hit where all the optimism in the world wouldn’t help.
“Thanks, Charles,” he managed, “I appreciate you trying.” He hit end on the phone, mind reeling.
Why would his father be concerned about him now? After all these years? After the warring between the vampire groups had calmed, not long after Charles was brought over, Kane had disappeared. With the cryptic instruction that his blood sons take care of each other. Alex, Noah, and Charles. Brothers in blood. And Kane, their father in blood, if not in birth.
What the hell was the old man playing at?
Alice unlocked the door to their shared cabin, hands trembling from nerves, two hours after she’d left Noah with the poor excuse of looking for medicine. She carried some ibuprofen with her, although she knew it probably looked weird that she’d waited so long to come back. She didn’t really have a good excuse ready, but hoped he wouldn’t press her for one, anyway.
He’d needed the time alone, no doubt to feed on the blood he’d hidden. And she’d needed to get the hell out of there. Because no matter how safe Noah made her feel, that afternoon on the bench there had been no mistaking his hunger.
And that hunger had scared her.
Not that Noah made her afraid, exactly. But the way he’d smelled her, looked at her. It was as if Noah wasn’t entirely in control of his own body. And it suddenly hit her on a visceral level that he was really a creature that survived on human blood.
Noah sat on the couch, freshly showered and dressed. He looked up as she entered, his face still strained, but he didn’t look hungry. If anything, his frown and flitting gaze suggested guilt.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Despite seeing his darker side, her heart still skipped the way it always had when she saw him. And whatever fear had gripped her on that bench no longer touched her. He was just Noah, and she hated the line between his brows when he was unhappy.
“I’m good now. Thanks for getting me back to the ship.” He took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry if I acted oddly, I—”
“Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but finally he shook his head and turned his gaze to his hands.
She bit the inside of her lip. Something had changed in him. And it felt like a wall was being erected between them. She couldn’t allow that. There might not be a future for her and Noah, but she cared about him. And wanted, so badly, for their time together to be happy. Limited though that time might be.
With confidence she didn’t really feel, she strode to the couch and sat next to him. Her shoulder brushed against his, and she took his hands in hers.
“Everything is going to be okay,” she said, and her voice came out as she’d hoped: confident, clear, and lacking any worry.
His eyes met hers, and the yearning in them stilled her breath. “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
“I am.” She released his hands and then reached up and held his face gently. “We’re fine, right?”
He searched her face for something before he answered. “Of course.”
The words sounded like a lie, but she wasn’t pushing it. Not today. She leaned forward and kissed him soundly on the lips. “Good. We’d better get going.”
“Where are we going?”
Was he even feeling well enough to leave the suite? He looked—well, he looked scrumptious, but that didn’t mean he really felt well. The man was far too good at hiding his discomfort. “I have to cook that lasagna for Cindy. If you feel well enough to help me, you can come assist. But it’s off the ship, in a bungalow we’ve rented for the day. If you don’t—”
“Does this make me your sous chef?”
She laughed. “I guess so. Do you like lasagna?”
“Sounds delicious,” he said, and the low growl in his voice sent shivers running down her spine. She would bet the man didn’t have food on his mind.
They headed back off the ship, to a bungalow Cindy had reserved for the wedding party for the night. The space was large enough for a group five times their size, and came with an attached galley.
They took a cab to the small house on the beach. The bungalow was charming and bright, and sun was cresting toward the horizon. Waves splashed against the beach, soothing. The salty smell of the ocean draped the air.
“So this place belonged to your parents?” Noah said as he checked out the living room.
If ever a home deserved to be called quaint, it was this one.
“They never owned it or anything, but they did spend a lot of time here. It’s special,” she said.
She rushed Noah to the kitchen, which wasn’t a bad size, and more importantly, it appeared to have all the ingredients she’d ordered in the refrigerator and pantry. There wasn’t much time left to do everything, so she was grateful to have Noah along to help with the prep work.
Whatever had bothered him when she entered the room seemed to lift when they started cooking. And as she chirped instructions at him, she was happy to discover Noah knew his way around the kitchen. Did vampires enjoy eating? She’d assumed they ate to maintain their cover in front of humans, but maybe they liked lasagna as much as any non-vampire.
“Could you grab that for me?” she asked, pointing at a can of diced tomatoes.
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I’ll grab anything you want me to, Miss Shepard.”
She laughed and whacked him with the spoon in her hand. “I’ll thank you to keep your mind on the food, Mr. Thorpe.”
He moved in, and she could feel his body close against her back. His hands settled on both sides of her, trapping her between the counter and his body. “Don’t worry, I always think of my appetite when I’m around you.”
Her breath hitched and then he stepped away with a chuckle, far too pleased with himself. Suddenly, her breasts ached, and her body thrummed with need. Maybe if they finished dinner early, they could run back to the room. Thoughts of the night before rushed through her mind. His touch. His tongue. His arms holding her so close.
Flushed, she worked on the lasagna with Noah’s help. Halfway through the prep, they moved almost silently, side by side. He started handing her things before she even asked for them, and they fell into a comfortable harmony.
She spread the first layer of sauce in the pan, and he watched her, his chest flush with her back.
“Smells good,” he murmured in her ear.
The noodles went on next, a thin layer. “Hand me the ricotta?”
He reached to the side and then slid the bowl to her. She grabbed a handful of the mixture, while his hand caressed her bare shoulder softly.
She shivered. “That’s not helping, Mister.”
Soft, his lips brushed the back of her neck. “I can’t help it. The lasagna smells so delicious.”
“Then why are you smelling my hair?” Her voice was breathy and weak, but she didn’t care. Not if he’d just keep doing that.
“You smell even more delicious.”
She threw the rest of the layers together in a warm daze, barely noticing if they were in the right order. She pushed the pan into the oven and then went to the sink to rinse off her hands. The clock hanging above the stove revealed that there wasn’t a lot of time before dinner. An hour, which was just long enough for the lasagna to cook. Dammit. No time to run back to the room. It was at least a ten minute round trip, and she really needed to stay by the oven, just in case.
Noah disappeared into the living room. A few moments later, his arms came around her again, and his body pressed even closer than before. His frame lined her body, barely close enough for her to feel him, all of him. He pressed a kiss onto the bare skin of her shoulder.
“We don
’t have time to run back to the room,” she said, her whole body screaming at her to make the time. “I have to take the foil off in twenty-five minutes or so.”
His body pressed closer, and she could feel his erection on the small of her back. “Who said anything about the room? I locked the front door.”
She felt her hair slide off to one side, and then his lips and tongue traced their way up her neck. His touch was so soft, but it sent shocks through her body, and her stomach clenched in need.
“But—”
“I need you. Now.” His teeth nipped the muscle between her shoulder and neck softly and she couldn’t remember what she was going to say. She shuddered against him, and his hands traced her sides. With one quick motion, he spun her around, and then his mouth was on hers.
When he’d kissed her before, there had been a hesitancy, at least at first. But now, all uncertainty was gone. He kissed her with force and passion. His tongue dipped into her mouth and warred with hers. His clever, clever hands roamed over her body, massaging and caressing. Pinching and grasping.
Every thought that tried to form kept slipping from her. This wasn’t right, part of her mind insisted. People make food in here. But somehow, the location, the knowledge that someone with a key could easily interrupt them, stoked the fire within her even more. Brought her to the point of desperation.
One of his hands slipped under her shirt and bra, and he slid his thumb over her nipple roughly. His other hand gripped her ass, pulling her hard against his body. She slid her hands up to his neck, then to back of his head to tug on a handful of his hair. His hunger infected her, and she writhed against him, feeling herself already slick with need.
He set her on the counter, which still held a few ingredients she hadn’t put away. But she ignored them as his hands roved over her again. One slipped between her legs, and she was so glad she’d worn a skirt.
“Noah,” she gasped out when he touched her heat.
He leaned back in and kissed her, softer this time, as his hand stroked her. He slipped under her soaked panties and pushed a finger into her.
“Oh,” she cried out against his lips. It was all almost too much. Too erotic. Their almost public location. His roughness and obvious need. His disregard for anything but being with her, right then and there. Her body cried out with need.
Noah stepped back, taking her underwear with him. He tucked them into a pocket and gave her a wicked grin. Then his hands were on her again. She pressed her hands onto the counter behind her, supporting herself, as he pushed down her shirt and bra with one hand, revealing her right breast. His other hand slipped down to stroke her again, and she felt herself at the brink so quickly it was almost embarrassing.
He watched her as he touched her, and she closed her eyes and threw her head back, unable to meet his intense gaze for too long. It was like he could see her—really see her. Every weakness she tried to hide, every insecurity beneath her surface. And it left her feeling open and raw. Disconcerted, but so needy she almost didn’t care.
He leaned in and nipped her neck again.
“You’re so wet, Alice.” He shuddered against her as his lips brushed the vein in her neck.
Suddenly, she could practically feel it. His teeth sinking in her neck as his cock thrust into her body. She yearned for it so painfully. The words were on the tip of her tongue. Not an insult. A demand.
Bite me.
The urge to sink his fangs into her thrummed in his mind, so powerful he had to pull away from her neck, even as he pushed two fingers into her body and pinched her nipple before rubbing away the sting.
Her mouth was slightly open, and her eyes wide, filled with passion. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. And there was such want in her expression that he could almost fool himself into thinking she knew what he wanted from her neck.
She moved as if to speak, but stopped as his rhythm increased, moaning instead. He needed to see her, needed to make her come. Needed to watch her break apart around him, even more than he needed to taste the sweetness of her blood.
He leaned down and licked her, sucking on her sex even as he fucked her with his fingers. She yelled out and he reached up with his free hand to cover her mouth automatically. No matter how much he wanted her here, in this very nearly public place, he didn’t actually want anyone to walk in on them.
The orgasm shook her body, and she bit his hand, hard. He glanced up, and seeing her teeth sunk into his skin almost pushed him over the edge.
He yanked the condom out of his pocket and then pushed her back onto the counter, knocking off a container of ricotta and a mostly empty can of tomato juice. Her hands moved over his body and gripped him through his pants. Fire shot through him and he groaned against her lips.
He wanted so badly to sink his fangs into her. Could almost taste her blood, so sweet on his tongue, mixing with the taste of her arousal. Her blood rushing into his mouth as he fucked her.
Damn.
He’d nuzzled her neck again, but pulled away as she tried to tug him closer. With her help, he shoved his pants down, just far enough to put the condom on. Then he crawled onto the counter with her. She pushed his pants down farther so she could grip his ass.
“Fuck,” he muttered, trying to get his cock into place.
“A little more challenging than a bed.” She chuckled and kissed him.
She wrapped her legs around him and he pushed into her. Two thrusts, and he could feel her tightness wrapped around him. So warm. So wet. So tight. Fucking paradise.
He stopped there, taking a moment for the sensation to sink in. Reveling in how perfectly they fit together. He’d been so fucked up after that phone call. After he’d decided there was no way out of the wedding. And that not telling Alice the truth of it all would be leading her on. Lying to her. But when she looked at him with her face so full of concern and caring, he came to a realization.
He needed her.
Not just for the short term—during this cruise—but as a real part of his life. Her smile filled the dark corners of his heart in a way he’d never experienced, not once in his very long life. And if you couldn’t take a chance on someone like that, what the hell could you take a chance on?
It was all too soon, he knew that. Too soon to talk about forever. Too soon to make promises. Too soon to spout his feelings like a lovelorn teenager.
But part of him wanted to.
And he knew, no matter what else happened, he wasn’t going to lose her. He would get out of the wedding. Somehow.
She moaned beneath him and urged him on, her hands gripping his ass and her body writhing against him. He moved, thrusting and touching and coaxing more from her. And with her abandon, she pushed him to the edge.
“Come for me, beautiful,” he gasped out, his thumb moving on her most sensitive place while he drove himself into her, barely able to hold on enough to remember she was human. That he could hurt her if he wasn’t at least a little careful. His mouth closed over her breast, and he bit her nipple. Not hard. Not nearly as hard as he wanted to.
She broke apart, crying out his name while her body convulsed around his. The orgasm hit him violently, and he drove himself into her hard, reeling from the power of it. Then he collapsed onto her, his body spasming. Her scent surrounded him, and he found his face in her hair, his mouth open against her, and his fangs a millimeter away from her skin. One little movement was all it would take. So fucking close.
He took a shuddering breath, and pulled away.
Chapter Nine
The heavenly smell of lasagna in the air roused her from the half-trance kitchen sex with Noah had put her in. They’d both put back on the bit of clothing they’d lost in the heat of passion, and then Noah held her against him for a few minutes. Silence hung over them, so heavy she feared breaking it.
But finally, she couldn’t resist the urge. He still held her on the counter—an oddly comfortable position.
“This probably broke at least five laws.”
“Laws?” he said.
“Kitchen cleanliness laws. Or food handling ones. Or something.”
He laughed into her hair and stroked her cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. “Well, I don’t remember handling any food while we were—”
“Yes, but food is definitely handled here.” She snickered. “I’ve never—”
“Me either.”
She forced herself onto an elbow and looked up at him. “Really? No crazy locales for you?”
“Nope. Well, none so publicly kitchen-oriented. I can’t say that lasagna’s ever had this effect on me before.” He smiled and kissed her softly. “Guess it must be the chef.”
“I am an excellent chef,” she lied. Lasagna was her only real forte when it came to cooking. But now that she’d found the kitchen so versatile, she could imagine spending a lot more time in it.
“You’re thinking evil thoughts.”
“Am not.” She rolled off the counter and then shot him a wicked grin. “You can’t prove a thing.”
He chuckled and followed her, grabbing her before she could go far. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“The lasagna—”
“Can wait.”
He kissed her then, so tenderly that she couldn’t help but melt against him. They were both breathing hard when she finally pulled away, and her whole body was hot and achy. How could she want him so much only moments after she’d felt so satisfied?
“Crap!” She stepped away from Noah, regretting the loss of his heat. She avoided his eyes, which were still dark with passion. Maybe if she didn’t look directly at him, she’d be able to resist. Concentrate. It was worth a shot. “Do you smell that? God, is it burning?”
She didn’t wait for a response, instead, she ran for the oven. “Oh no. I forgot about the foil.” She pulled the lasagna out of the oven and set it on the stove. Hands still in the oven mitts, she tugged off the aluminum foil and stared at the lasagna in disgust.
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