by Kiersten Fay
“Should I be worried?” His tone was soft now. Concerned.
She bit her lip. “No.” Probably.
“Why did that sound like a question?”
She tried again with more conviction. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Let me talk to him.”
It was her turn to be silent now. No way in hell was she letting the two of them chat.
“Naia, I want to talk to him.”
“Why?”
Before she received an answer, movement caught her eye. Cortez was suddenly next to her, holding out his palm for the phone. A little stunned that she hadn’t heard his approach, she passed it over before even realizing what she was doing.
Phone to his ear, free hand in his pocket, he was all business. “Hello Cole, this is Cortez.” There was also a level of amusement that seemed to ripple off him.
Cole was saying something on the other end, but she couldn’t make it out.
“I promise to take very good care of her,” Cortez replied, smirking at her.
Naia rolled her eyes.
There was another pause, and then Cortez blinked wide. At her questioning look, he covered the receiver to mouth, “He’s threatening me.”
Humiliation and horror flooded her. “Give me the phone,” she demanded, reaching for it.
Cortez dodged her attempt. “That’s very graphic,” he countered to Cole. “The whole foot? Or just the tip?”
“Cole!” she yelled, still grappling for the phone. “Stop it, right now!”
“Well, you could try,” Cortez said, as though responding to another barrage of threats. To avoid her grasping clutches, he turned away and headed back up to the top deck, the receiver glued to his ear while he commented, “Uh-huh. Oh really?”
She followed close behind, but he continued to elude her desperate reach.
“While that sounds like fun, let me assure you, your sister is in good hands. She is the most precious of treasures. I will let nothing happen to her.”
She abandoned her caper at his touching words. Cole seemed to have been rendered silent as well, giving Cortez the opportunity for a brisk, “Have yourself a good night,” before hanging up and shocking the hell out of her by remarking, “I like him.”
She let out a clipped laughed, still reeling at his words. Precious treasure? Surely he said that for Cole’s benefit.
Grabbing her by the hand, Cortez guided her back to the bench where they had been seated earlier. She stared at their intertwining fingers, the heat of his palm seeping into hers. She was suddenly breathless.
He took a seat, facing her as she stood before him in a daze. Their positions had him looking up at her while she gazed down, but there was a challenge on his end. Like he was daring her to take the lead.
Mentally shaking away her nerves, she eased onto his lap, knees on either side of him. The action caused her dress to inch high up her thighs, but she didn’t care. It put them closer, which at the moment was imperative. Her arms circled his neck; his strong hands folded her waist, the delicious warmth of his palms now penetrating the fabric of her dress.
Emboldened, she dipped her head. Their lips met, soft at first, just a feather touch before turning harder, and then desperate, crushing, the shackles of lust slicing free. Nothing mattered but getting as close to him as possible. Kissing him harder.
His palms slipped over the contours of her sides, trailing a hot path that she could feel through the fabric of her dress. His hands found their way under the hem. He growled when he found her pantyless. She hadn’t been permitted to try any on in the store, so what she’d bought was still packed away. His expression turned carnal as he cupped her sex. Her hips rocked as if to tease his grip, her body already primed. A thick finger penetrated, pulling a gasp from her. Her head fell back as he played her, giving her exactly what she needed. Arms wrapped around him, she held on as her body rolled to ease him in and out of her, the friction building. He added another finger, and she moaned.
“You are breathtaking,” he muttered. “Come for me.”
She was close. Her body undulated against him, on the verge of euphoria. Her brain tapped out as her hips worked feverously, seeking more friction. “Cortez, I...oh, God, so good.”
Sparks dotted her vision as she came. Delirious and panting, she slumped over him.
The sound of a zipper had her coming back into her body, desperate for more. Widening her legs, she eased down on his engorged cock. He pumped his hips, making her moan. He gripped her hips, doing it again.
“Yes,” she cried. The pleasure was sharp, agonizing, addictive. As he fed his cock into her, she lowered herself, drawing him deeper. The pressure was exquisite. They settled on a slow, but delirious rhythm. She met his gaze as their bodies toiled.
With a hand at the back of her neck, he lowered her forehead to his, their breaths mingling as he drove into her. She felt him swell within her, and arched her back to ride him harder. Hands still on her hips, he helped guide her up and down, both of them groaning with each thrash of her hips.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “I can’t hold out. Ugn!” As his seed spilled, she cried out to the sky, pure heaven ripping through her.
After a few more drinks, he declared he hadn’t had enough and took her with his mouth, driving her once more to orgasm. Then they stared at the stars in companionable silence before he led her to their stateroom and she returned the favor.
In her mind, this night was magical, a fantasy made real.
Then she woke up to a heartbreaking sight.
Chapter 17
Cortez wasn’t next to her in the bed where he’d been when she’d fallen asleep, though it was still dark out. She checked the clock. It was well past midnight. She called out for him, a bit disoriented. There was no reply. At first she thought she’d had too much Champagne, then realized it was the boat rocking, not her brain.
Easing out of bed, she found one of his shirts and slipped it on. It covered her adequately. Then she peeked into the small, but softly-lit hallway. No sign of the crew. Most of them must be asleep but for those needed to guide the ship.
She padded toward the stairs that led to the salon, which was lit only by the moon, as was the figure on the deck she spied through the panoramic windows. She squinted to see better. A shirtless Cortez with his arms around Emily, the stewardess. His fangs were in her neck and she was moaning as though she was loving every second.
The unexpected sight made Naia gasp out loud.
Cortez lifted his whiskey eyes, meeting her gaze. Unable to look away, she watched as he nuzzled the woman’s flesh, his fangs seated. Her stomach and heart took turns flipping around, making her nauseous and dizzy and desperate for an escape.
Pushing past the shock, she turned and raced back down the stairs to their compartment. There she paced, anxiety and adrenaline going to war.
He needed to feed, she reasoned. He’s a vampire. That’s what they did. He wasn’t getting nourishment from her. She’d taken that off the table, so of course he had to go elsewhere. It didn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t mean anything.
So why was she so staggered?
Moments later, he entered the room, eyeing her warily as if expecting her wrath. She wanted to give him so much wrath.
Not my place. Not my right.
Breathe in. Breathe out. “Good snack?” she inquired, her tone light but with an underlying bitchy quality that she hadn’t meant to weave in.
“Did it bother you to see? I’d hoped to do it while you slept.”
“It’s fine.” She said. “Totally fine. I didn’t mean to intrude.” What was the correct response here? Was she supposed to be angry? Hurt? Or glad that he’d fed so that he didn’t inadvertently bite her when they made love. Her feelings were mixed. And she was battling a primal urge to go back up there and throw Emily overboard.
“Tell me what’s going through your mind,” he said. “I need to know.”
“It’s fine. Totally fine.”
&nb
sp; “You said that. Somehow I don’t believe it.”
She plopped down on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not sure what I’m feeling. I never expected to...I mean, I’ve never seen that happening before. It’s always been done behind closed doors at Dante’s. But then there it was. Right in my face. And it was you. And we’ve only known each other a couple days, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. But I...well...I’m rambling.” She took in a heavy breath, let it out slowly. “I should have realized you’d be feeding while we’re together. I have no right to be upset.”
“So it did upset you?”
She shrugged.
He sat next to her. “Out of respect for your wishes, I must feed from others while we’re together. But I would much rather take from you, should you allow it.”
“I...” Could she let him feed from her? Somehow she knew him taking her blood would be outrageously intimate, more so than sex alone, and could even spur a connection that she might not be able to fathom. Already she could see herself falling for him without that arcane link. Even if she’d only be with him for a week, she’d need to actively shield her heart, which had no business getting involved in this caper. After he was through with her and they separated, she’d need to be able to walk away intact. A clean break. Giving him her blood could only bring them closer....
But the thought of him drinking from Emily again, or any of the other crew, cut something dark and possessive through her. Could she give him a taste of her essence while remaining detached? “I...I have to think about it.”
He nodded. “If it’s not something you can condone, I completely understand. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
He meant it, she realized. Feeding for him was a way of life. A non-issue. Equated to her own dependence on food.
Only, her food didn’t moan in ecstasy when she took a bite.
Chapter 18
In a brief instant she knew she was dreaming, then the notion slipped away like a puff of steam cooling in the air. She was a misty rain on a warm summer’s day, lethargically riding the wind, basking in the ebb and flow of an air current and letting it rock her like a mother to her child.
A mountain came into view several hundred yards below.
The moment her logical mind registered her unnatural flight, she began to descend. She fought the Earth’s pull, but it was as if an invisible tether took hold, yanking and tugging with jerky effort. It was like a strange, ghostly tug of war. One moment she thought she gained altitude, only to slip lower in the sky.
She gave up and prepared for a rough landing. Instead, the tether eased up, drawing her in slowly as if her acquiescence cooled its fervor.
Soon she hovered just feet above a rough gravelly road. A good distance ahead, the surface of the road transformed to a smooth inky black, as though pavers had given up halfway through and left the job incomplete.
Movement ahead drew her attention. On the glittering asphalt, she spotted the dark figure of a man walking away. She recognized the breadth of those shoulders, the confidence in that gait.
She called his name, but Cortez kept going, his pace leisurely. She started down the path at a brisk pace, hurrying to catch him, but somehow he seemed to gain distance. She increased her speed. The space between them stretched and for a moment her task seemed impossible. She called for him again, but an ornery gust drew her words away.
She doubled her efforts. Closing the distance was taking all her concentration, but inch by inch, she gained ground. Why would he not stop? Could he not hear her? It was imperative that she reach him soon, for if she didn’t...well, something terrible was about to happen, she could feel it in her bones. And there was something she needed to tell him before it was too late, though she couldn’t quite remember what that was.
Like a rubber band snapping, the distance between them evaporated. As she was ready to plant her hand on his shoulder, he whirled around to face her so fast, it startled her. Then she got her first good look at him and stepped back in terror. Gazing up at a face twisted with rage, she realized she’d been chasing Dante, not Cortez.
But that couldn’t be. She’d been so sure it had been Cortez.
Abruptly Dante’s features rippled and morphed, and Cortez was staring down at her, mouth curled at the edges, tight and unkind.
Yet Dante wasn’t gone. Like a shadowed apparition, he stepped out from behind Cortez, that same cold smirk in place.
She glanced at the man she’d put her trust in. “Cortez?” Her muttered plea echoed as though off the jagged face of a cavern wall before growing heavy and falling to the ground.
Cortez didn’t respond, only broadened that hated smile, displaying his sharp fangs.
Icy betrayal chilled her heart, freezing it in her chest. She knew without knowing that they meant her harm. If she didn’t get away, they’d—
With a slathering roar, Dante grabbed her by the throat. She struggled to scream, but her voice was sucked back into her lungs as if by a black hole opening up in the pit of her stomach.
Somehow she managed to turn away from the two men. They clamored and clawed at her, trying to trap her. The ground beneath her softened and muddied, grit turning slick and watery. She began to sink, first to her ankles, then her knees, and finally past her waist and up to her neck. She couldn’t breathe. Her vision dimmed. Black sludge inched its way up her straining chin, over her lips, stealing her vision and cresting her forehead. Was she about to die? Black emptiness all around. She was stuck, unable to move, losing air. Suffocating.
With all her might she thrashed, but a thousand tentacles leashed her limbs, staying her struggles, dragging her down, down, down to a dark bottomless pit.
Suddenly the world tilted on its axis.
With a jarring gasp, she awoke, clutching the mattress as if to keep herself from tumbling off. The nightmare drifting at the edge of her subconscious and the slow rocking of the ship registered.
She drew in a long breath and let it out slowly, the dream-induced adrenaline gradually evaporating.
Once again she found herself alone in bed. Shrugging off the last clinging unease of her nightmare, she swung her feet over the edge of the mattress and padded to the bathroom, contemplating the dream. It wasn’t all that difficult to decipher. She was under a lot of pressure, was projecting her fears onto Cortez. Who she really feared was Dante—and the twins; Dante, because she had no idea of his true intentions in sending her to spy on Cortez, or what he’ll do if she comes back empty-handed. The twins, for obvious reasons. Cole was her life. Her blood. They had a couple weeks to pay up, or they’d have to jet.
At this point full payment seemed unlikely. That seven grand wouldn’t be enough, though it might buy them time. That is, if she ever got it. Not only did Cortez appear to be a nice enough fellow—a sexy, drop-dead-gorgeous fellow—but even if he was up to something nefarious at his club, it would be a miracle for her to discover what it was here on this boat. Dante probably hadn’t expected him to take such a liking to her. To spirit her away from the club, inadvertently keeping her from doing her job. Dante would expect her to be at Ever Nights even now, snooping for clues like a trained bloodhound.
Would Dante understand her restrictions? Give her more time? Or send another in her place? Goodbye seven grand.
Or maybe not. She had the attention of the most important man at Ever Nights. If she was charming enough, maybe he would let down his guard and confide in her.
Her stomach twisted painfully at her conniving thoughts. She wasn’t made for this kind of devious work. But for Cole, she would do what she must.
In the bathroom, a small package rested on the counter, topped by a folded note that read this is all you should need to wear today. ~Cortez.
In the box was an olive green woven bikini and black sheer wrap. The bikini bottoms were little more than a patch of fabric and some string. She smiled. He was going to lose his shit when he saw her in this. After a quick shower, she put it on and examined herself in the mirror. The wrap was
small, but managed to give her a semblance of modesty. Still, the outfit was sexy as hell. Quickly she ran her fingers through her hair and let it fall to one side, damp with a slight curl.
Satisfied with her appearance, she exited the room. On her way through the ship, she passed Emily, who was all smiles and bright greetings, as though she hadn’t practically been wrapped around Cortez like creeping vine the night before.
At Naia’s scowl, the woman frowned, seemingly confused, but said nothing.
Putting the woman from her mind, Naia sauntered out to the lower deck where a table was set for breakfast. At its center there was a coffee thermos, milk on ice, and orange juice, along with some delicious looking pastries.
Several yards away from where the boat was docked there was a sandy beach sandwiched between a crystalline surf and a jungle-like forest that crept up a low sloping mountain. Farther down the coastline, she saw what looked like a bungalow on stilts over the ocean attached to a boardwalk that stretched like a long leash as though to keep the building from drifting away. With the morning light glinting off the ocean, the scene was picturesque.
Cortez stood at the end of the deck facing away from her, arms braced on the ship’s railing as he peered out over calm waves that licked the pearly sand. He wore only tropical grey and black board shorts, his naked back packed with tight muscles that moved with feline grace.
Her body instantly reacted, her skin tightening with want, but she stood motionless. Awkward. After what she’d witnessed last night, she wasn’t sure how to act now. After she’d fallen back to sleep, had he returned to Emily for another bite to eat?
As if finally sensing her, he turned and then stunned her by flashing a movie-star smile. “So odd...I’m not used to how quiet you are. It’s refreshing.”
“Huh?”
“And my god, you look...” As he slowly took in her appearance, his eyes darkened with desire. “...gorgeous.”
Every nerve ending in her body fired as though he’d caressed each one in turn. Emboldened by his hungry gaze, she pivoted for him, untying and tossing away her wrap as she did.