Bite Me (Blood Chord Book 2) Page 6

  Reaching behind her own back, she slid her hands up and down my sides, pulled my body closer to her own, and skimming the lace edge of my underwear. Heat pooled in my core as she slipped her hand between us and pressed her palm over my hot little mound.

  I trailed kisses up her neck, sucked on her earlobe, snaked my hand around her stomach and let my fingers slide in and out of the waist band of her panties. She trembled beneath my touch, and for at least a little while, feeding was not on my mind. Fucking was.

  She wiggled her hand over my sex and I had to force myself to hold still, to not start grinding against her magic fingers. Instead, I turned the teasing back on her. I pushed my hand down, all the way until my fingers rested over her slit. And then my hand stilled, teasing, taunting. Her hips bucked, willing me to slip a finger in over her wet clit and drag it through before sinking inside of her hot little box.

  I did not move my hand. I wanted her to beg. She might have pleaded with me if she hadn’t come up with a better plan. She played the game right back at me—massaging me through the fabric of my underwear. Soft, then a bit harder, until I could feel my own wetness spreading.

  I twitched my fingers again, letting them graze her hot-button briefly before dragging the wetness up and out. I nipped her neck and squeezed her nipple between my fingertips.

  She rubbed my slit harder in response, the fabric still irritatingly in the way.

  I dipped a finger between her folds again, slowly, deliberately teasing her. Her body tightened under my slight touch and she groaned. I flicked it again and her legs trembled. Then I pushed in, gliding over her clit harder.

  She responded by slipping her fingers under the edge of my panties, finding me ready. Everything I did to her, she did right back to me. I flicked her clit, she strummed mine. I traced her core with a circle, she drove me crazy by coming close to entering me, but not quite there.

  I was on the verge, it had been too damned long.

  The pace built, until I had her up against the wall, fucking her until she was a quivering mess, but she wasn’t the only one. Every time she pushed a finger inside of me, I tightened around it, sending little quakes through my body.

  My breasts rubbed her back, until my nipples felt hard enough to cut glass. I was so fabulously close that I could practically taste it. In fact I planned to, but that was putting the cart before the horse.

  Alicia started a rhythm on me that was to be my undoing.

  She covered me with her whole hand, occasionally dipping her middle finger between my folds, pressing in before withdrawing quickly, only to start all over again. Her other hand grabbed my hip and pulled, essentially impaling me on her fingers. My body quaked, clamping down as one hell of an orgasm ripped through my body.

  Even my freaking toes tapped out an Oh, God in Morse code.

  As I came down from the O-mazing moment, euphoria mixed with a sudden hunger and I made a split decision. It was rather genius if I do say so myself.

  I pulled back, turned Alicia around and kissed her hard. Leaving her mouth, I rained kisses down her chest, over her stomach and finally to the apex of her thighs. She didn’t even notice I’d backed her up to the counter until she bumped into it, the cold tile inciting goose-bumps to raise over her flesh.

  I pushed her back until most of her weight rested on the counter and pried her legs further apart. My wine glass sat nearby on the edge of the counter. Alicia’s eyes were closed and her head tipped back in delight, so I carefully grabbed the glass and set it on the floor beside me. I kissed her thigh, dragging my fingertips slowly over her sex.

  Increasing the pressure and speed, I pulled her quickly to the breaking point, and in that moment where her body began to tighten around my fingers, my fangs descended and I skillfully punctured her femoral artery. She panted and moaned, but otherwise gave no indication that she’d felt anything other than immense pleasure.

  After several long swallows of her intoxicating blood, I grabbed the glass and pulled my mouth from the wound, letting the dark liquid run into my goblet until it was nearing full. Mixed with the wine, no one would be the wiser.

  I licked the errant blood trail clean, bit my own lip and kissed over the puncture on her thigh, until it was little more than a scratch.

  Alicia twitched further and I followed with more kisses, each one bringing about another mini quake. Finally, she cried out and then went limp, melting against the wall like one of Dali’s clocks.

  Feeling more sated than I had in months, I leaned back against the wall and sipped my bloody wine while she regained her composure.

  I’d turned wine into blood, I realized and chuckled to myself.

  Damn, I almost felt drunk. How I’d missed that care-free, tingly feeling.

  Chapter Eight

  “Gawd, is there a strip club in this one-horse town?”

  I opened my eyes to see Morgan perched on the side of my bed, staring at me.

  “No girl, we’re in the bible belt.” I sat up and smoothed my hair. “Why would you ask that? You don’t miss... you don’t want to go back to work, do you?”

  “No way, no how,” she said.

  Something unspoken clouded behind her eyes for a heartbeat, but was then quickly replaced by her normal perky glint.

  Morgan punched me in the arm, which to a vamp like me felt more like a little ol’ mosquito bite. “I came in to tell you some juicy gossip and realized I felt like I was back in the club; all I can smell is alcohol, sweat and pussy.”

  I laughed and scooted off the bed, not trusting my little Morgan, who as far as I could tell was still unnaturally attracted to me thanks to our little bonding session in Florida. So, bed-side chat sessions were a no-no for a while.

  Morgan twirled a long strand of hair around her finger, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

  “You have gossip?” Embarrassing topic averted, thank the gods.

  “So, you’ll never guess who I just saw jogging down the road, with his bare chest and muscular legs, and perfectly clutch-able butt.” She bounced a little on the edge of my bed. It was so adorable that I almost missed what she was saying.

  What was wrong with me?

  Maybe I needed to check my shields—right, no need to check them, I realized. I’d left a hole in my shields back at the bar the night before. I was slipping; I needed to be more careful with that. What was a mere annoyance now could turn into something downright dangerous under the right circumstances. Like the paralyzing hatred I’d experienced out on the dock not too long ago.

  Back to Morgan, who was staring at me impatiently, waiting for me to guess and failing miserably.

  I laughed and crossed the room to my vanity. I ran the brush through my hair and pulled it up in a clip. “I’ve got nothing. Whose clutch-able ass did you see jogging?”

  “That guy from Halloween, you know the one that head-butted you and dropped you on your ass?” She spilled it in five seconds flat.

  “You mean Lincoln?” I asked, checking out myself in the mirror. I’d probably never get used to not needing foundation anymore.

  “Who’s Lincoln?” she asked.

  I turned back to face her, my eyes wide. “Crap, I didn’t tell you, did I? Lincoln is his name, that trick-or-treating guy, though I think most people call him Linc. I met him the other night—he’s the new neighbor in that crappy house up the road.”

  Morgan’s jaw dropped. “Shut Up!”

  “I will not.” I teased her. “Not until you have some gossip that I don’t already know.”

  Morgan frowned and picked at her fingernails for several seconds before her head popped back up, “Okay, Miss Smarty Pants... who was our hunky new neighbor jogging with?”

  “I don’t have the foggiest idea,” I replied.

  Morgan squealed, hopped up and grabbed me by the hands. I waited for her to start jumping up and down, but mercifully she didn’t do that.

  “I win! For the record, he was jogging with an equally hot guy, right down from our house. One
for you, one for me. Unless you’ve finally decided to go pink from now on?”

  She wrinkled her nose and dropped my hands like they stunk. She was probably right, I did need a shower. And as soon as my bubbly nanny left me alone I planned to take one hell of a hot soak. But first I had to defend my sexual preference, once again.

  “No, I’m still sitting firmly on the fence. I don’t know that I’ll ever pick a team again. I mean it’s like trying to compare peaches to bananas. On one hand you’ve got soft, sweet and juicy, and on the other you’ve got long, filling and creamy. I like both. I want both, and I don’t see anything wrong with that, do you?”

  Morgan held up her hands in surrender. “Joking! Geesh, you’re feeling awful sensitive today aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, sorry.” I pulled a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt out of my closet and laid them on the hope chest at the foot of my bed. “I’m on edge about my never-ending food deficit. I can’t just run out to the store every time I need food like you can, and it’s not like I can bang-and-fang random girls in a bar bathroom very often either.”

  “You didn’t!” In her defense, Morgan did try to not laugh right in my face.

  “Oh, but I did.” I shrugged, trying to keep my mind from wandering there; thinking about our bodies reflected in the oversize mirror, about how the flickering light had made our movements pulse in rhythm.

  “So tell me about her! What’s her name?”

  “She was pretty, nice too. The rest is irrelevant. It’s not like I plan on dating her or anything,” I said.

  Sadly, I’d already had this conversation with myself. Under different circumstances, maybe we could have dated, maybe even fallen in love. But with my life as it was, it held no room for her. Alicia was innocent and I had no right to bring my brand of darkness into her life.

  Morgan frowned, “Why not? Are you planning on being single forever?”

  “I have everything I need right here... you, Quinn, a few close friends.” I argued.

  “No you don’t,” she replied. “You need more than that. Love, sex and food—which some would argue are extremely important.”

  She had me there, though I wouldn’t admit it. I pursed my lips and checked the time on my phone. Morgan wasn’t buying it.

  “Think about it: if you played your cards right, you solve two of your problems with one swipe. You’d have someone to scratch that itch occasionally and give up some of their blood every few days.” She brightened, like she’d just solved everything that plagued me.

  Buggers. All she’d really done is sealed my coffin.

  Of course, I didn’t want to bring a new person into my fold—it wasn’t exactly Sunday-School-safe around here—but the real reason I didn’t want to “date” is because my ego was still far too wounded from Pete. I didn’t know if I could ever trust another person enough to give them the chance to hurt me like that again.

  I’d never considered what would happen if I chose to love again, not until Morgan had said the words out loud. I could never willingly make someone my blood slave, and that’s what would happen if I ever got into a serious relationship.

  So that settled that. I was to be alone for all of daylight-damned eternity.

  “I don’t want to think about all that. You want to go shopping?” I said.

  Morgan looked at the time, and back to me. “But it’s going to be light out for another eight hours.”

  “I know. But I have a plan.” I put on my best mischievous look and continued. “Quinn’s Dad is picking her up from school this afternoon, and I happen to know that there’s a mall across the bay that not only has the best shops around, but it has a parking garage attached to it. So I’ll be fine. Now, give me a few minutes to shower and we’ll hit the road.”

  Morgan jigged and high-tailed it out of my room squealing. I took that to mean that she was on board. I cracked a smile, despite my sour mood. I’d hate to think of the raging bitch I’d be if she wasn’t around to balance me out.

  I took a quick shower, dressed in light-weight, easy to get out of clothing and found Morgan pacing in the kitchen. “Let’s go, we’ve got some money to burn.”

  She snatched up her purse and beat me to the car. I smiled and followed her, glad that her mood could be a balm to my own. As we passed the ramshackle house where Linc and his dog lived, I told her the story of how I’d met him. To her credit, she didn’t make fun of me for my idiotic ways, she only studied me keenly. I reminded myself that there was more to meets the eye where Morgan was concerned. She wasn’t just a pretty face with nothing behind it.

  Remembering the way her eyes had clouded over when I’d mentioned the strip club earlier, I made a mental note to try and get to the bottom of that story eventually. I’d had enough deep conversation for one day though, so that particular mystery would have to wait.

  We spent the next half-hour singing along with songs on the radio (horribly) and outlining our plan of attack once we hit the mall. There was the Apple store, Crate and Barrel, Macy’s and so much more. I was glad for my vampire stamina, though I never imagined it would come in handy for a full day of shopping.

  “How much longer?” Morgan said, turning down the radio.

  “Forty-five minutes, maybe, or less.” I slowed the car down as I approached the toll booth. That part was going to hurt, I knew. I checked myself in the rearview mirror. Oversized sunglasses, check. Scarf draped around my neck, check. Sleeves pulled down so only my fingertips were exposed, check.

  I sighed, knowing I’d done all I could and it still wouldn’t be enough. “Once we get through the bridge tunnel, we’ll have just a short drive to the mall, I promise.”

  I rolled down my window and did my best to smile at the toll booth cashier while she took my fifteen bucks and told me to turn my headlights on for safety in the tunnels. My fingers felt like I’d dipped them in lava while I thanked her, rolled the window up and started the car moving forward again.

  “Son of a monkey-footed cock-gobbler!” I clamped my mouth shut after that creative bout of swearing and fought through the pain silently. Gripping the steering wheel so hard that my fingers made permanent impressions, I tried to get myself under control.

  Morgan placed her hand on my arm, “You should have let me drive.”

  I nodded, unable to speak without uttering something else equally profane. Or weird.

  We drove the rest of the way in silence. Morgan looked out the window at the ocean rolling underneath the twenty-mile-long bridge and tunnel combination. She was probably looking for dolphins or whales. With any luck, she might actually see some.

  Rude, by Magic! came on the radio and I found myself humming along.

  I concentrated on driving the speed limit (I’d be no good if I was pulled over) and staying within my lane through the pair of two-lane tunnels. Even being undead didn’t keep me from tensing up while driving through those. Unlike the bridge portions, where each bridge held two lanes of traffic going in the same direction, the tunnels narrowed down to only two lanes of traffic, one heading south and one heading north, and the only thing separating the two was a yellow, painted line. It’s not like there was anywhere to go if someone suddenly strayed over onto your side of that line either. No, both lanes were squeezed in by the imposing tunnel walls.

  Thankfully, we survived the damned tunnels and made decent time to the mall. I parked in the lowest level of the parking garage, where any ambient light was tempered by the abundant landscaping and neighboring buildings. In no time at all, we were shopping our hearts out and not thinking a thing about blood supplies, love lives (or lack thereof) or anything else that burdened our minds.

  Who says money can’t buy happiness.

  Chapter Nine

  I was so wrapped up in being normal for a few hours, that I almost missed the extra beats that punctuated the brief silences between our own footsteps as we made our way back to the car with bag-laden arms.

  Click, clack, thud. Click, clack, thud.

  I scanne
d the parking garage quickly, but without turning my head. To the sides and in front of us, I didn’t see anyone. Yet, the extra steps persisted. The part of me that was still human felt the urge to turn around or run, like danger was stalking us, but the monster in me knew a better way.

  I opened up my shields the tiniest amount and found the person following us with ease. His adrenaline and excitement oozed over me, laced with a feeling of sickness. He felt dark, twisted and his intentions could not be misconstrued.

  A vision from him, much like the one I’d accidentally gleaned from Cassidy that night at the Strip Club, played through my mind with disgusting clarity. He was thinking of which of us he’d do first. Morgan flashed into his mind and the perversity of his thoughts made my steps falter.

  “You okay?” Morgan asked.

  “Yeah, fine.” I pulled the car keys from my pocket and clicked the fob. Thirty feet ahead, my car’s lights flickered, signaling it was now unlocked.

  The man drew closer, the images from his mind increasingly more vomit-worthy.

  “Morgan.” I lowered my voice.

  She looked up at me smiling. “Yeah?”

  “When we reach the white car up ahead, drop your bags and run. Don’t look back. Get in the car and lock it.” I gave her my best trust-me look.

  “Huh?” she asked, instinctively turning her head to look behind us.

  I felt arousal leak from our stalker, as he locked eyes with Morgan.

  She let out a yip and stopped, frozen.

  Oh, bloody hell.

  I grabbed Morgan by the shoulders and pushed her towards our car. “Go. Now”

  I didn’t wait to see if she’d done as I asked. I turned to face the man, blocking his path to her, and came face to face with a monster of the human kind.

  He stopped and appraised me, rethinking his earlier plan of attack on Morgan. Instead, he imagined all the sick things the he was going to do to me and my body, which involved a rusty blade and lots of blood and screaming. Trust me when I say, he was pure evil and if I hadn’t been blessed with some serious vampire chops, he would have scared the shit out of me.