“You have a husband?” Aedan asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He didn’t do that.
“You ask now?”
He shrugged. “You’ve made references to Kenzie’s father, but you didn’t really say if you were—”
“A loose woman?” Raising an eyebrow, she hesitated, then pressed the wet paper towel to the cut above his eye, none too gingerly.
He made certain she wouldn’t be able to see into his past. It was easy with her, a lot easier than with nosy vampires.
“Ouch.” He flinched. The coldness and the pressure of her hand stung.
“Big man can get into a fight in a bar, but he can’t take a little warm water?”
“Back to the part about your having a husband,” he said, squinting from the bad eye.
“Kenzie’s father, my husband. Deceased.” She rubbed the cut with the paper towel.
He cursed under his breath. “Ouch. Damn it! That hurts more than getting hit did.” He grabbed her wrist and lowered her hand.
She looked into his eyes.
“You want to tell me about Kenzie’s father?”
“Nope. Not ever. You want to tell me about this fight you got into?”
“I can explain,” he said quietly, still holding on to her wrist. “I don’t usually do things like that.” Which was sort of a lie, wasn’t it? But he couldn’t explain the whole “protecting God’s humans” thing, could he? And the whole stalking, death sentences, and ceremonial killing knives would really muddy the waters.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“You don’t?” He leaned over her, pulling her close until her lips were a breath from his.
“No,” she whispered as his mouth touched hers.
Her eyes were open wide, as if she was scared. But she couldn’t resist him any more than he could resist her.
“Just don’t fuck this up,” she whispered. “You do, and I swear I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” he dared. And then he covered her mouth with his, ending the conversation.
Chapter 11
Dallas felt as if she were falling as Aedan wrapped her in his arms and covered her mouth with his.
But it was a good falling . . . if that was possible. Like closing your eyes and letting yourself go, tumbling onto a soft, down mattress or into a bed of leaves on a fall afternoon.
He was a good kisser . . . just enough pressure with his lips. Teasing with his tongue.
It was so glorious to feel a man’s touch, to taste a man’s lips and not see images of his past in her head. For once, she felt unencumbered by, untethered from another’s emotions. For just a moment, the briefest moment, her life was about her. About the intense feelings he was stirring in her.
When Aedan pushed her down onto the couch cushion, she didn’t resist. She had no intention of resisting. She’d known that, somewhere in the back of her head, since the second time she’d touched him.
Dallas slipped her hands around his neck, her fingers finding the soft fringe of hair at the nape of his neck. He smelled good: woodsy, so male, and not at all artificial. He wore no cologne. He didn’t need it. Not with all the natural pheromones this guy was putting out.
When he slid his mouth from hers, they were both panting. But one breath of air was all she needed. She inhaled his scent and guided his mouth to hers again. Now that this freight train was headed downhill, she fully intended to stay on it. It had been more than two years since she’d felt a man’s touch or been touched by a man, beyond passing a fried shrimp basket.
Kissing the curve of her jawline, Aedan slid his hand up her ribcage and cupped her breast. A soft moan escaped her lips. What had ever made her think she should remain celibate? She liked this, liked it way too much.
She liked this guy too much.
Dallas pushed on his chest with both hands, and he lifted up, looking down at her. “You okay?” he whispered, gazing into her eyes with those big gorgeous blues of his. He stroked her cheek and brushed her hair back. “We can slow down if you want.”
“Slow down?” She reached down, grabbed the hemline of her Brew T-shirt, and shimmied out of it. “I was thinking speed up.”
He looked down at her, a playful half smile on his lips. “It’s okay? Kenzie, I mean.”
“Sleeps like a rock.” She threaded her fingers through his hair and met his mouth hungrily.
His shirt came off next. Then, her black, lacy bra. She’d always been one for nice underclothes . . . even when she knew no one would ever see them.
His chest was broad and rippled with muscles, genuine muscles, not the kind that came from steroids and a needle. With just a sprinkling of red man-hair.
He stroked her shoulder, caressed her breast, and then drew his thumb over her hard nipple, sending waves of sweet heat through her entire body.
Dallas knew she didn’t have room for a man in her life right now. She didn’t have the time or the energy. But no matter how hard she tried to reason him off her and out of her apartment, she couldn’t reason away the fact that she was more sexually aroused at this moment than she ever recalled being in her life. She’d always enjoyed sex. Sex had been good with John, but never like this.
Every time Aedan kissed her, touched her, licked her, she felt like she was melting, spinning, hurtling into a forbidden place she hadn’t known existed. Had only fantasized about.
When Dallas tried to kick off her sneakers and couldn’t get one dislodged, Aedan sat up and gazed into her eyes as he grasped her foot and slowly worked off the shoe. He helped her wiggle out of her jeans and then leaned down and kissed her flat belly.
It occurred to Dallas at some point that they might have been more comfortable in her bed. Or at least on the floor. After all, he was several inches taller than the couch was long. But she could barely form a complete thought; a sentence seemed beyond possibility.
The first time she came, he had barely touched her. She laughed out loud, surprised, relieved . . . she wasn’t sure what. He held her for a moment, giving her a chance to catch her breath, and then he began to stroke her again, taking his sweet time, giving her her sweet time.
The second orgasm came on more slowly, but a lot more intensely. This time, tears filled her eyes.
Dallas caught one breath and began to fumble with the top button of his jeans, which were button up, not zipper fly. Why did that not surprise her?
Boxer briefs, of course. No surprise there. But pink elephants? She laughed as he swung his legs over the edge of the couch, stood, and slowly stripped for her. At that point, she could barely keep her eyes open, her lids were so heavy with passion, still unspent.
Clothes discarded, Aedan leaned down, kissed her again, and she scooted up on the couch, and leaned on the padded arm, making room for him over her. She parted her legs . . . and gasped as flesh met flesh.
Dallas was overwhelmed by the feel of him. The fullness of her pleasure that seemed to ebb and flow like the tide on the beach. As they moved together, easily finding a rhythm, he tried to hold on . . . to hold back and prolong the sweet agony of it. But she couldn’t help but move faster beneath him, pulling her heels into his back, sinking her nails into his broad shoulders.
She came again and heard him groan . . . but withhold. A few quick breaths and they were moving again. Her heart was pounding, swelling with the joy of feeling so close to another human again.
As Aedan moved faster, knowing Dallas was close to orgasm again, he tried to think of something else. Anything to keep from crossing the finish line too soon. Or biting her. Bloodletting was a part of healthy vampire sex, which was why he wasn’t supposed to be having sex with a human in the first place. At this point, he didn’t want to commit either sin.
He thought about the fact that he needed to change the oil in his car. He concentrated on Mary Kay’s banana nut bread, at home on Peigi’s counter. This technique usually worked, at least for a couple of seconds.
But not this time.
He pressed his mouth to Dallas’
s one last time, squeezing her breast. One stroke, another, and she was crying out, clawing at his back. He moaned with pleasure and released, still trying to keep his full weight up, off her smaller frame. They both shuddered, and he rested his head against the back of the couch, his eyes closed.
The moment was so intense, so utterly satisfying, that it took Aedan another moment to realize Dallas had stiffened beneath him. That her entire body was suddenly taut and quaking. He opened his eyes to see her staring at him. What was it he saw in her eyes? Fear? Not fear exactly. Something more complicated.
“Get off me,” she whispered, her voice not sounding right.
What the hell? Aedan moved as gently as he could, separating their damp, hot bodies. “Dallas—”
“Don’t say anything.” She sat up. Her hands were shaking as she reached for her T-shirt on the floor. “Just . . . just get dressed and go.”
“D—”
“Aedan! Please.”
She sounded as if she might burst into tears, and he knew her well enough to know she wasn’t the kind of woman who cried easily.
“Don’t say anything.” She pulled her shirt over her head, over her perfect, small, round breasts. “Just get dressed and let yourself out.” Then she got up and walked out of the living room and down the hall.
Aedan reached for his underwear. He wanted to pretend he had no idea what had just happened. He wanted to pretend she was just embarrassed by the fact that she’d just had a sexual encounter with a man she barely knew. In the same apartment with her sleeping daughter.
But he knew what had happened. He knew all right. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she’d made the conscious decision to have sex with him.
This was his fault.
At that last moment, he’d been so wrapped up in his own pleasure, he’d let down his guard, and she’d seen something in his head. Who knew what? Did it matter?
As he stepped into his boxer briefs, he realized he was still wearing his socks. What kind of man made love to a woman stark naked, but wearing socks?
He pulled on his jeans and buttoned his fly, contemplating what to do next. He knew what he should do. He should go down the hall and enter Dallas’s bedroom on the pretense of wanting to know what had upset her. When he got close enough, he would grab her, throw her onto her bed, sink his fangs into her, and drink her hot blood. It was what he had wanted to do all along anyway, wasn’t it? The nature of the beast and all that?
Just the right amount of blood and she would become unconscious. He would then tuck her into bed, and when she woke in the morning, she would have no memory of the couch. Or of him even coming upstairs with her. If anyone said anything to her later—the babysitter, the bartender—when she realized she couldn’t remember what had happened, she’d be too embarrassed to say so. It was always that way with HFs. They never trusted their own senses.
He fished his shirt out from under the coffee table, spotting the ice bag she’d made. The ice was melting, sweating on her table. He picked it up, along with the blood-tinged paper towel, and carried them to the kitchen. Buttoning his shirt with one hand, he stood in the dark kitchen and poured the ice into the sink. Back in the living room, he sat on the couch that should have been on a deck or a patio and put on his shoes. He shrugged on his leather jacket and went down the hall.
He should have ended his relationship with Dallas then and there. Instead, he went out, locking the door behind him, and wondered what she would say to him if he dared ever show his face in her bar again.
I am bored tonight. I sit in front of the TV in the rented condo and flip through the channels. A few days ago, the TV fascinated me. So bizarre, so mesmerizing. Not only wildlife shows, music videos, and reality venues, but pornography. Channels and channels of pornography.
But pornography does not hold my focus long. My attention strays. I think of the girl with the honey brown hair. How unsuspecting she was. How frightened and big her eyes became when she realized what was happening. When she saw the knife.
I smile.
The thought of the knife makes me smile. It makes my heart pound.
Her heart pounded. I felt it through her clothing.
I told her not to scream, and unlike the first, she did not. She must have had it in her pretty little head that if she did what I said, it would go better for her. That was, of course, not the case.
By the time she did scream, I had already gagged her. Her blood had already begun to trickle . . . then to flow, as I did that which I must do.
The women struggle at first, but it never lasts long. Eventually they become too weak, or they pass out from the pain.
I am always disappointed when they go too soon. This one did not, however. She was strong and brave . . . and in the end, very ugly like all the others.
I hit the OFF button on the TV remote, and the room goes black. I like the velvety darkness. It reminds me of home.
But I will be home soon enough. Soon enough, for it always seems to go too quickly. Like the blink of an eye. So many females to choose from. So little time to choose.
My thoughts turn from the humans to the others. Curious creatures, the vampires. This one in particular. Big and brave and strong, and yet so weak. So malleable in my hands.
I saw him tonight when I took a stroll. Was he looking for me, I wonder, or going somewhere?
Where might he be going?
Aedan walked into the mostly dark house and followed the only light to the den, where the TV flashed. For once, there were no wayward teens there. Just Brian. Without speaking, Aedan plopped down beside him.
Brian glanced at him, then back at the screen. The volume was down low, for once. When bombs exploded and soldiers fell, the walls of the room didn’t vibrate.
Aedan watched the TV screen sullenly. He was getting so he could recognize the games. “Modern Warfare 3.” This game was too graphic for him, too. Too much like the real thing. He’d been on a few battlefields over the years: in the Americas, in Europe, in the East. Good guys, bad guys, it didn’t matter. The blood was always the same. The tragedy of the loss of so much human life so deeply overwhelming.
“Victor gone to bed?” Aedan asked, watching Russian soldiers rush across the screen. Russians invading America?
Brian nodded.
Aedan nodded.
After a few minutes the explosions stopped, and Brian turned to Aedan. “Bad night?”
“Something like that,” Aedan said glumly.
The thing was, it had started out so well. Maybe not the guys in the alley part, but all of the Dallas part. Aedan really felt as if they had connected, as if maybe they could have shared something, if only for a few weeks.
And he’d had to blow it by not keeping his sense about him at the big moment. What? Was he seventeen again and having forbidden sex for the very first time?
“Wanna . . . talk about it?” Brian asked.
Aedan glanced at the teen, completely taken by surprise by Brian’s . . . momentary unselfishness. “Nah.” He sighed. He wasn’t even supposed to be seeing an HF; he certainly wasn’t supposed to be knowing her, in the biblical sense. It was his responsibility to be a good role model to Brian, not show him just how many ways a man could screw things up. “Lady trouble,” he explained.
“Ah, got some of that of my own.” Brian set the game controller beside him, on the end table. “You want a Coke or something?”
Still in shock that Brian was behaving so . . . normally, Aedan nodded. “Sure.” He pointed at the TV screen. “I thought you couldn’t pause this thing.”
“I’m outta lives. I have to start a new game.” He shrugged as he got up. “No biggie.”
Brian was back momentarily. He handed Aedan a can of Coke and popped the tab on his own and took a loud slurp. “I guess we can’t do without them.”
Aedan glanced at the teen vampire, not following.
“The ladies.” Brian shook his head and took another slurp of soda.
Aedan had to contain h
is amusement. “I know I can’t. As much as I’d like to.” He paused. “You get into it with Peigi again tonight?”
“Sort of.” Brian sighed. “Peigi said we should do something. You know. Together.” He sounded slightly embarrassed. “So I said okay. Kaleigh said I had to at least be nice to her, you know, because we’re married and all.”
Aedan nodded and sipped his drink.
“So, I was being nice.” Brian burped loudly and then went on. “She wanted to go to a movie.” Again, a shrug. “So we went to Rehoboth. I even let her pick the movie. Some chick flick.”
“The ladies love their chick flicks,” Aedan commiserated.
“So we got popcorn and soda and stuff and went to the dumb movie. About halfway through, I had to take a leak.” He frowned. “On my way back to the theater, I heard all this noise from another theater. You know, cool explosions and flaming fireballs and stuff. So I went in. Just to see. It was this movie where these alien robots come down to earth and try to wipe out mankind,” he explained, getting more animated. “It was really amazing. I didn’t mean to stay. I just sat down for a minute. Next thing I know, the movie’s over.”
Brian was quiet for a minute. Aedan waited.
“So, the movie’s over, and I go out in the lobby, and Peigi’s there, all upset.” He brushed back his shaggy hair. “Like, crying upset.” He rolled his eyes. “She thought I was lost or I left or something. Like I could get lost at the movies.” He crushed his empty soda can against his forehead. “I told her I was sorry. I didn’t mean to like, scare her or anything. I just wanted to see if the robots were going to kill all the humans. They didn’t.” He set the can on the end table where there were several other empties. “She was really mad. She didn’t talk to me all the way home in the car. Then she just went upstairs. And now . . .” He sighed, picking up his game controller. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I should never have agreed to go to the stupid movies with her in the first place.”
Voracious - (Claire Point Vampire 5) Page 13