“Have you read about fae with vampires?” Veronica asked. “By a vamp author?” Was there marked in time between fae and her kin? Not that she personally saw it. From her time, her father only associated with vamps but who knows what else he’d done behind closed doors.
Keeland named a few vamp authors, including Lucien VanWrath’s rendition about founding the island with Okala, but most vamps told tales of the Great Wars that had taken place ten thousand years ago, about the elves’ remarkable appearance to help many different supernaturals in their battles, detailing their calculated, cunning strategies, and unique fighting skills.
Though this was way before Keeland was born, Veronica imagined him in armor, fighting. He certainly looked like a warrior behind his desk, wielding a pen instead of a sword.
Her thoughts drift to her closed box-like upbringing. The history about elf-fae kind is warming. She was stupid to previously think the Ardeleans allied with such noble beings other than themselves. She’s also increasingly embarrassed that she didn’t know this information given by his tone that its availability is widely known...
“Vampires praise highly the elves’ trusted alliance,” Keeland continued, looking proud. “After all: baobhan sith supernaturals share the DNA of the undead and fae and who consume blood. The why to trust being so easily given. Connections made. As well, the Natdrinkere–Night Drinkers–are distant cousins of the Pureblood vampire, like VanWrath.”
“I’m Aristocratic,” she said.
Keeland’s brows raised, intrigued. “You are?”
“Mmmhm.” Old like Purebloods, but one notch below, and whereas both types are of the old ways; human hunting, greedy for self power, seeker of secrets to own benefits, Purebloods are at the top bar of power, and whom first established the “Vampire” persona the human folktales derived from. The Pureblood ways, such as turning humans into vamps, and burning under sunlight. Unlike being birthed from direct darkness, the Aristocrat generation rose upon the conception between a vampiric demon and a black witch. Deluded over time of any true magic, but back then the Aristocratic line fit themselves into the hierarchy because of the lineage. That much Veronica was taught. And all she cared to know.
Damned is damned. No matter the mixture. It’ll guarantee any spot in high class vamp life.
In the future, Veronica envisioned creating her own kin who would only inherit a thirst for obtaining mammal blood, harmlessly, and chocolate donuts.
“I’m curious about the name you mentioned, the Natdrinkere.” She propped a knuckle underneath her chin. “What are they?”
“They’re about this tall.” Keeland separated his index finger and thumb, inches apart. “In better description, they resemble pixies. They await prey on the branches of dense forests, and act like mosquitoes.”
Veronica rolled her eyes in humor. Crazy to think a bigwig like VanWrath had distant relatives the size of a bug.
“What about you?” she wondered. “Do you stem from the Natdrinkere?”
“I can date my line to the very beginning. No Natdrinkere, but I am connected to a couple baobhan siths on my father’s side. The results are why me and my siblings have fangs.”
“And the magic... that’s all from simple fairy blood. Your mother.”
“Precisely.” He grinned. She mirrored it in the passing seconds. Hers eventually went south when she wished she could openly share her lineage but there wasn’t much as noteworthy, extraordinary, or fond as his.
Keeland knitted his brows. His mouth opened then closed abruptly. Instead, of speaking, he shook his head and crooked his finger. She leaned as close as the wide table would allow without having her ass practically in the air. She watched his eyes until he nodded to his cupped hands that lay between.
"Look," he said, softly.
A bluish green orb blossomed in his palms, popping little sparks. They ceased, and the orb morphed into a face.
Her face.
Veronica’s expression lit along with her beautifully hued manifestation which mimicked her looks, the nose twitch she did and tongue stuck out.
Keeland laughed again, and right then Veronica couldn’t hold back her next comment.
“That has to be the hundredth time you’ve laughed. Are you ill?” She only meant it jokily, kinda, but it had an effect. Keeland made the Blue Veronica dissipate, jaw ticking as he did.
“I never disliked you.”
“Okay,” she said with a little smile. Their positions remained close. She analyzed his features. He did the same. Neither broke. Unlike earlier, the air lacked flaring magic.
This was... calmer. Damn near right.
He grinned, crookedly. “Even the insufferable you at times.”
“Good one.” She snorted.
Keeland became serious. Mouth forming a hard line. There went his jaw flexing, accentuating hollow cheekbones.
“Veronica–”
Tiny bells chimed and his phone beside his elbow lit.
Chapter Nine
An hour gone, food containers discarded, Veronica fell silent while Keeland talked on the phone. A client of theirs.
Previous pleasantries expired as they sat further apart.
She went on to finishing lingering tasks on her tablet. Keeland, she suspected, regretted switching back to work mode by the dull tone in his voice and he kept looking over at her.
Seeing what she’d been doing, he handed over a stack of notices and upcoming appointments to log into his calendar for the next few months. She got right on it.
Nearing the end, after he disconnected, and she plugged in the last appointments in his schedule, she faced the tablet in his direction.
“You’re all set. How’s it look?” she asked, waiting for a minor nod of praise, because Keeland Elwood doesn’t hand out cookies or stickers. A nod she damn well deserves, because exceptional is what she’s always after and gets. Is my cocky showing? But then again, she wasn’t asking for an entire day dedicated in honor of her accomplishments, since hello, she’s just typing stuff.
Keeland didn’t stop reading to look up.
No, he stopped reading to get up and walk around the table to stand right behind her chair, leaning over a suddenly tensed shoulder, cheeks an inch apart. His body heat and woodsy scent encasing her senses. Teeth caught her bottom, worried lip. Gods, he’s too close. Too damn close. So close Veronica’s brain gave the wheel to her pussy, letting it take control.
She clamped her thighs shut. Not now, bitch.
Wait, was that...
No, she wasn’t wrong. Indeed, that was Keeland’s thumb softly rubbing its pad along the space below her shoulders. Veronica took pride for following instincts in past situations, inwardly agreeing to whatever her gut ordered.
And presently, she obeyed once again.
Dropping the tense ice block covered shoulders, she sagged, pressing into his touch. That encouraged him to rub harder, sending her spine blazing. The skin under his thumb, a hair’s distance between it and a silky blouse, raved in a storm of tingles.
“Very good.” His cool breath was at her ear.
Very good, regarding the schedule? Or very good, that I’m giving in?
“Thanks.” the response a mere whisper.
He’s not moving. Please, don’t.
Okay, so far she’d be in the midst of four very different things that had charged the air in the presences of Keeland Elwood.
First: irritation.
Second: tasty, delicious smelling magic that sang to her senses, and had come about at Chambers.
Third: Non-magic present, just quiet, pleasant calm like before he had his phone call.
And the fourth: Electrifying sexual need.
It wafted the conference room now.
She looked at him then. His gaze wasn’t on the tablet. Instead he was focused on her chest. Seconds passed, and his gaze finally connected, not at all guilty or apologetic for blatantly staring at her boobs.
Why the hell can’t Elves read minds? Naughty thoughts
sped past her frontal lobe. Like wishing the hand cupping the base of her neck now, kneading the flesh, would just slip past the blouse and press warm fingers into an aching chest.
Veronica grabbed his dangling tie and heat brightened his jade-hued eyes to lime. Both their gazes mirrored sudden desire.
Screw decency.
Screw hesitations.
Just as she was about to hedge into kissing her boss, his phone rang—AGAIN!—thus unplugging the cord to the lust machine she was so happily riding on.
Fuuuuuuuuck.
* * *
Veronica, well aware of Keeland following, still on the phone, towards the elevator, their stuff in hand. She pressed the down button, sparing him a glance. From what she gathered from the one-sided conversation he was answering questions about a property being renovated in Cancun.
Her highly sensitive hearing can easily pick up the caller’s voice and words but didn’t bother. She would play a part and quietly ride down, get in her car, and drive home.
And pretend like they didn’t just have an epic moment. Like they hadn’t just cruised towards the line so close to crossing.
Inside the mechanical box, she hit the first-floor button hard enough that the edge of the circle dented. Pissed, much?
More like ridiculously horny. No, I am pissed that I’ll have to settle for my hand and a vibrator in the shower tonight rather than Keeland dousing the ache on his own.
They stood on opposite ends of the elevator. Passing the forty-fifth floor, he hung up. Acute to every sound he made, yet she refused to look at him directly. The rustle of his pants when he slipped his phone into a pocket. A low throat clearing...
Eerily, nothing after that.
“Veronica.”
Poor shiny heeled shoes took the brunt of a vampire’s glare.
“Damn it, look at me,” he snapped.
She finally did.
Arms folded, leaning against the wall, Keeland’s eyes had not dimmed to jade. Alien lime. Evidence the brief fantasy-come-to-life was real. But was it ever to be touched again?
Veronica readjusted her stance, meeting his intense glare. Slowly, he parted with the wall and stalked forward. Chin aimed upwards as his dominating height towered above. If her heart could beat it would have been racing right then.
He kept his soul-sucking pupils locked onto her and shot his hand out, pressing the emergency stop button. The elevator creaked, halting on the thirtieth level.
The Tower had many elevators available. Hopefully, no one would pay attention to this particular one.
Unlikely...
However, did she care they could get caught? Granted, nothing was happening, but she didn’t.
You can’t be that stupid. Some shit is about to go down. Look at his eyes. Beyond dilated, they consumed every bit of green. Veronica was struck by their raw hunger. What did they see? A woman craving to be ravished inside and out? Her body vibrating with need? Who was ready to release her own beast? You mean your inner slutmuffin?
“Keeland—”
“Don’t. Talk.”
He slammed each hand on either side of her head, caging. She shuddered as his nose drifted along her neck, inhaling.
“Raspberries,” He exhaled. “That’s what I’m smelling. And roses?” Difficult it had become to keep heavy lidded eyes from fluttering shut. The straps of her leather tote and purse slipped away.
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“It’s... intoxicating. And now engraved in me because of you.” Fire erupting lips grazed her earlobe. “Every day since Mona brought you to me... I have been slowly cracking. Callous notions to deem you as a nobody, I’ve tossed that aside—”
“Oh, that’s good, I really appreciate that.” she snorted.
Keeland had the decency to look chagrin. “Instead, I think about...”
“What?” Surely, it couldn't be worse than believing her to be nothing.
“I think about wanting your body any way I please.”
Well, that’s an upgrade.
“How?” she was playing with danger, but damn it, hearing him say that fed a boiling pot of lust. She shared his admittance. Maybe that’s why she never took his shit seriously. Maybe that’s why she acted more dramatic over his attitude than originally really felt, just to convince herself to not venture closer, to never think being pressed against him would ever happen.
His tongue caressed her bloodless cheek. “How?” He chuckled softly. “There’s slamming your body on my desk and fucking you ‘til every being in The Tower hears you scream my name. That imagine came when you first arrived. Then there’s having you on the floor, same outcome, but that sparked when you dropped your pen and bent over to get it, displaying a perfectly round ass that I so wanted to press my face into.”
A whimper escaped. The very images weakened her knees. Gods and Goddesses, I want this man. So. Damn. Much. Veronica gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, until their noses touched. “Touch me,” she hissed in his face. Her cunt throbbed in accelerated pulsing, moisture pooling. Legs parted, knowing her arousal would be apparent to him. On cue, Keeland inhaled and peeled back his lip, thick fangs growing. He growled, long and loud. His palms pressed harder into the wall. No apologizes shall come for the dents he’d no doubt made. She hissed again, letting sharpened canines drop.
They lunged.
Jaws snapping in feral madness, each devoured the other’s lips. Jackets were discarded, piling at their feet. Buttons ripped from sockets. Veronica flipped his tie over his shoulder, desperate for a taste of the skin he had teased her with earlier. She raked dark painted nails down his chest, drawing bright red lines. He roared, sending pearly buttons flying from off her blouse, exposing her breasts clad in a black lacy bra.
“Damn.” He weakened. “You’re beautiful.” Kissing the tops, he swirled his tongue over peaked nipples, wetting the bra’s material. She cradled his head, releasing a throaty moan. “All of you... so beautiful.”
She hooked a leg on his hip. Pelvis to pelvis, they rocked, gyrating, meshing lower bodies.
“Keeland.” She was wet under her skirt.
“Fuck,” he groaned, removing one hand to tightly grip an exposed thigh that chafed his side, pushing the skirt higher till the tips of his fingers met moist panties. She moaned again, head falling back. Keeland descended on the vulnerable neck, sucking and pulling the skin with his teeth, fangs dangerously close to piercing. The hoarse, animalistic sounds that filled the elevator enticed her to be rougher, to hear how much louder they could be. She hitched the rest of the skirt to become a belt and ground her soaked pussy on his hard cock.
“Want... this.” Keeland grinded hard and fast, movements blurring as they added body-to-wall thuds to our carnal soundtrack. “Be... witched... me,” he panted.
Veronica grabbed his face, pulling forward. “Kiss me.” An order demanded from an assistant to her boss. He fulfilled it, slanting his mouth to capture tender lips. When two lust-aggressive supernaturals kiss, it involves a whole lot of nip and pulls, like a predator tugging the flesh of its prey, leaving nerves zinging and raw. Subconsciously, she must’ve wanted to be this way with him because in this moment it all felt right. Like a puzzle piece finally fit into place.
Like embracing an old friend.
She spasmed against his body, white-hot need boiling to the rim. “Keeland,” another whimper.
“I know, baby.” He shoved her thigh higher. Then outwards. “Keep this here,” he said using his other hand to hold the base of my neck. She nodded, on the verge of screaming. Then she couldn’t fathom what happened next.
A buzz sliced the air and the elevator intercom came on. It projected a shaky voice.
“Excuse me folks? Um, you-you-” the voice intruded. “Uh, you’re on camera. And um, I-I-I have to follow regulation and ask if you need emergency assistance—”
“Fuck Off!” That came from the orgasm-craving vampire.
“All righty then.” The emergency intercom clicked off. Keelan
d chuckled, returning to her swollen lips. “So bad.”
“Gimme,” she growled, narrowing red eyes.
“Impatient woman.” He plunged his tongue deep, doing it simultaneously with the hand that cupped her mound, bypassing panties, and drove a long finger inside. Head snapped back, crying out, Veronica held onto him, screaming again as he plunged in another finger.
“So tight. I do this to you?” His voice like gravel, he pumped his middle and index digits. “You do this to me.” He detached her right hand from his dress shirt to press against his cock. Instinctively, she stroked it through his trousers in time with his finger thrusts. They moaned in unison. “Fuck, Veronica.” He kissed and licked the slope of the precious neck he came to favor. “You’re dripping, baby. I made you this way?” She couldn’t form a single fucking word. “Answer me.” He removed those magical fingers, earning a sharp growl of frustration.
“Yes, damn it.” She latched onto his wrist, urging his hand to return. “Yes, you do. Keeland, please.” White light appeared again when he filled the empty space once more. This time, a third finger squeezed in.
“Veronica.” He hovered close. She knew it but couldn’t see; she was enjoying the colorful light show taking place behind closed lids. “Baby.” That simple word he breathed across her lips caused wet walls to clamp around him.
Close.
Sparks prickled toes, traveling up. Heat surged inside her chest, traveling down.
Close.
“Look at me,” he growled, the heel of his hand rubbed her clit.
Shit, I’m done for. Veronica flashed open ruby eyes, her jaw dropped open and she came. “Keeland!”
And came.
Chapter Ten
Eventually, they had to the leave the elevator. After releasing it from its hold, it cruised to the first floor. During, clothes were readjusted. Her blouse was screwed so she hid the ruined top at its half-assed best underneath the blazer, Keeland doing the same with his suit. While gathering her tote and purse, he stayed practically glued to her side. Damn the sexy, wicked man, he slowly licked each finger that he had used to send her over the edge.
Blood, Cupcakes and Wicked Business (Grimstone Island) Page 6