Blood Song: Refrain (Blood Song Series Book 2)

by Charli B. Rose

  With deliberate steps, he moved to his side of the bed. Before he pulled the covers back, he noticed his folded gray shirt still at the foot of the bed. One eyebrow arched as he looked at me with the covers pulled up to my chin.

  Long fingers closed over the edge of the blanket, lifting the corner, revealing my secret to him.

  He groaned and dropped the comforter back in place without sliding beneath it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he buried his face in his hands.

  “Toven?” I sat up, disregarding the blanket which fell to my lap baring me from the waist up. Moving slowly to keep him from dashing away, I shifted behind him and gingerly pressed a kiss to the top of his spine.

  He shuddered.

  Incrementally, I slid my body closer, eliminating the space between us until my breasts were pressed against his back, making my nipples harden immediately at the friction. My arms snaked around his torso. I trailed kisses from one shoulder blade to the other, then back to center. Inhaling deeply, I drew his spicy, woodsy scent into my nostrils. I wanted that scent to surround me as he hovered above me.

  Everything in me hummed with his proximity. Arousal churned in me. I was ready, but he still wasn’t talking. His breaths panted out with each press of my lips to his skin. A strong but gentle touch grasped my wrists, tugging me tighter to him.

  I rested my chin on his shoulder and studied his profile—soft lips pursed, chiseled jaw clenched, long lashes against skin only a shade paler than mine.

  “Toven, it’s OK. I’m ready. I passed ready while you were in the bathroom.”

  A wry chuckle rumbled from his abdomen. He sucked in a breath through his teeth and held it. “I’m not,” he finally admitted in a tone so low I wouldn’t have even heard him had I not had my face pressed to his.

  “Why?”

  “I’m not really sure. But even if I was, tonight wouldn’t be the night.”

  My face fell at his words, and I tried to pull back from him. He wouldn’t allow that. In a move too quick for me to comprehend, he tugged me around to straddle his lap. His gaze dropped down to take me in, then quickly returned to my face. Resting his forehead against mine, he said, “You’re hell on my resolve though.”

  I smirked at him as I wiggled closer. I wanted him to feel how much my body needed his. How much my heart needed his. A hiss slipped through his lips, caressing mine as his body responded beneath me.

  “Good thing I’ve lived long enough to be pretty good at holding tight to it though,” he growled sounding less confident in his ability than his words seemed to imply. “Tonight can’t be the night.” He cradled my cheek as my heart plummeted, feeling unwanted. “And don’t even think it’s because I don’t want to . . .. Don’t want you. I do. Believe me I do. More than I want my next drink of blood or breath of air.” His pelvis thrusted up against the damp fabric of my underwear, providing evidence to support his claim.

  “Then why are you refusing what we both so obviously want?”

  “For many reasons. The first and most important in this moment is that you’re still under the influence of my venom. It’s lowering your inhibitions. That’s a line I’m not willing to cross,” he said, his voice an odd combination of pain and determination.

  “OK.” I kissed him, fully intending to keep it chaste. But my brain disengaged as soon as his mouth molded to mine.

  His tongue licked the seam of my lips, and all the want that had been simmering below the surface instantly became a rolling boil of desperate need.

  Greedy fingers wound themselves in his hair without my permission in a bid to keep him from allowing any air between our meshed mouths. When I was finally lightheaded from lack of a good breath, I jerked away, tipping my head back to inhale deeply.

  Toven planted warm, open-mouthed kisses along the column of my throat.

  “You’re not helping your case of not tonight,” I panted.

  “Just because we’re not doing that tonight, doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you wanting. I did that once before, and it was torture for me. I’m not strong enough for that.”

  He stared deeply into my eyes. So much emotion was in his unshuttered gaze. I wished I possessed the skill to decipher it. The only thing I recognized for certain was desire. For me.

  “Can I touch you too?” I asked shyly.

  “I think I’ll die if you don’t.”

  My heart soared, which he no doubt detected based on the laugh that barked from him.

  His hands grasped the globes of my butt as he stood. Balancing my weight with one hand, he used the other to pull back the covers. With reverence he leaned down, settling me on the mattress with my head on the pillow. He sat back on his knees, staring down at me like I was his tabernacle and he hadn’t worshipped in years. Lowering himself, he started paying penance for his perceived sin of leaving me wanting in the past.

  Kisses landed all over my skin except where I wanted them. I twisted, trying to place the neediest parts of me beneath his adoring mouth. As he moved farther down my torso, his index fingers slipped beneath the thin elastic holding my panties in place. Goosebumps rose along my legs as he dragged the fabric down.

  He sat up, his gaze riveted on me.

  I resisted the urge to cover myself, and instead reached for his waistband so I could uncover him. As my fingertips ghosted along the sensitive skin just below his navel, he expelled a needy groan.

  “I think you’re half-virgin and half-vixen,” he said when my fingers closed around his shaft.

  “You bring it out in me. Make me want to be bolder. Make me unafraid to want things,” I admitted, stroking him with more confidence now that I’d touched him a few times. I was getting better at determining what he liked the most. The vein on the underside pulsed beneath my fingers when I tightened my hold.

  He made no move to remove his boxers, and I wasn’t about to relinquish my grasp on him, so I continued to touch him beneath the cover of cotton. It almost made it hotter. As my hand moved to the top, I added an experimental twist of my wrist, causing him to lower himself over me.

  Balancing on his arms, he lowered his body enough so that his mouth could crash with mine. The kiss was all heat and need as his tongue stroked against mine, making my caress of him less finessed. He didn’t seem to care. His cock throbbed and twitched in my palm.

  I ran my tongue along his teeth, feeling the sharpness of his fangs, which were now protruding from his gums. It felt different with them out during our kiss.

  He sucked on my tongue, stopping its mission to trace the nuances of his mouth. His arms trembled right before he lowered his body fully onto mine and spilled himself in my hand.

  When he lifted his head from me, his eyes were hazy and a little unfocused. “Definitely half-vixen,” he gasped. His body rested against me, and I happily accepted the weight of him pressing me to the bed. It was warm and safe . . . and turning me on even more. I squeezed his shaft, which was still resting in my palm.

  After a few moments, he rolled off me. He whipped off his soiled boxers. “Sorry about the mess,” he said as he used a dry spot to wipe my hand. Once he was satisfied, he tossed them over near his suitcase. “Now, I’m going to make a mess of you.”

  In a blink, he was on me, licking and sucking his way down the center of my abdomen. My universe shrunk. My ability for coherent thought evaporated.

  A circle licked. Belly button.

  A wet line drawn. Hip bone.

  Scrape of fang. Inner thigh.

  Tickling touch spreading me open.

  Hot sucking kiss. Eight thousand nerve endings firing inside his mouth.

  Sparks ignited along all my surfaces.

  Exploding like a firework with his name on my lips.

  I floated back to myself and found Toven once again gazing at me like I was his shrine. Maybe I was. Maybe that was how love started.

  He reached behind him and snagged his gray T-shirt. Gently, he tugged it over my head then slipped each of my arms through the holes. He lay down next to
me, pulled the blanket over both of us and tucked me safely into the warmth of his embrace.

  “Sweet dreams, my shining star,” he murmured against my forehead.

  All these private moments where it seemed like Toven needed me, wanted me, cared about me were starting to make something dangerous bloom inside me. Something more than the love I was sure I was already in with him. Something like hope.

  25

  Toven

  A chime sounded in the darkness of the bedroom. Moving slowly, so as to not disturb the sleeping angel lying on my chest, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. With a few clumsy taps and swipes, I figured out what the alert was for. Though I still hated trying to do more than the simplest things with this contraption, I didn’t hate it enough to extract myself from Celesta’s sleepy embrace to boot up my laptop.

  An email marked urgent had been forwarded to me from Mrs. Stephenson.

  Dear Mr. Adams,

  I have long been a fan of your musical talents. It has come to my attention that you’re in LA for the premiere Step into Love. I was hoping I could convince you and your lovely girlfriend to have dinner with me and my wife on Friday evening. I’d like to pitch an idea to you. If you’re willing, I’ll make reservations for a private dining table at 71Above for 7.

  I look forward to hearing from you.

  Jim Gibson

  Five Star Film Production

  Taking great care with the tiny keyboard, I tapped out a short response.

  Mr. Gibson,

  I look forward to meeting you tonight at 7.

  Toven

  With the press of a button, I turned off the sound, set my phone aside then snuggled deeper under the covers with Celesta.

  “Mr. Adams,” a distinguished-looking bald man greeted as the hostess led us to a private table overlooking a portion of the city.

  “Please, call me Toven.” I accepted his proffered hand. “And this is my girlfriend, Celesta.”

  “Wonderful to meet you both. Call me Jim and this is my wife, Libby.” The tall woman standing next to him held her hand out to me.

  Once we were seated, a man in a suit stopped by our table to take our drink orders and give his recommendations off the seasonal dinner menu.

  “We’ll both have red wine, and I’ll also have a glass of B-negative,” I told him.

  “And we’ll have the red as well,” Jim added.

  The server left us to peruse the menu while he went to get our beverages.

  “What’s good?” I asked the Gibsons.

  “I adore the champagne-poached oysters and the cavatelli,” Libby offered.

  “I’ve had several of their seafood dishes. They’re all divine,” Jim added.

  Nodding, I continued to read over the listing for each course.

  In no time, our glasses were placed in front of us, and the server was poised with a pen to take our orders.

  “Do you know what you want?” I turned to Celesta.

  “I’ll have the champagne-poached oyster, heirloom carrot and um . . . the ora king salmon.” She passed her menu to the waiter.

  Looking up from the menu, I said, “I’d like the oyster as well, steak tartare and Japanese wagyu, rare please.”

  The Gibsons rattled off their orders.

  Once we were alone again, Jim took a sip of his wine. Leaning forward he said, “I’d like to talk with you about something that I need to stay just between us for now.”

  “I totally understand. You have my word,” I vowed, curious to hear what he had in mind.

  “This is all in the very early stages, so you understand why I can’t have it getting out just yet. Anyway, I’m producing a new superhero movie centered around Quicksilver. Casting has just begun. But I’d like to get you on board to write the soundtrack for it,” he said in hushed tones.

  My eyes widened. Five Star Films had produced the last three superhero box office hits.

  “What exactly do you need?” I asked, forcing my tone to stay neutral, though excitement coursed through me.

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure yet. I know we’ll need several fast tempo numbers for fight and chase scenes. And we’ll need a couple thematic scores. Plus at least two ballads.” He ticked off the compositions on his fingers.

  “Before this goes any further, I have to confess . . . I’ve never written a ballad,” I admitted, hating I was probably talking him out of using me.

  “I’m well aware. But you now have inspiration to write one,” Jim said, tipping his head in Celesta’s direction.

  I glanced over at her, and she dipped her chin in shy embarrassment. “True,” I whispered, considering his words. I did have new inspiration in my life, filling the empty spaces, touching the cold, dead parts of my heart. With clammy hands, I wrapped my fingers around the delicate glass stem then took a hefty swallow of the rich, smooth wine.

  “Just give it a go. You don’t have to decide right this minute. We don’t even need any musical samples for months. Take a few weeks to see if you’re interested and figure out what you might come up with. Then we’ll get together. If it doesn’t work out, that’ll still give me time to reach out to someone else. But I don’t want to have to. I know your creations are perfect for this script. I’ll email you over a synopsis and some rough descriptions of the scenes where we need musical scores,” Jim said with a pleased but excited smile on his face.

  “I’ll set aside some studio time on Monday to start working on something to share with you.” I couldn’t help but return his grin. Ideas and melodies were already flitting through my mind. Something romantic and soft. Not a love song. At least not yet. But the potential was there. I glanced to my right again, catching the slight smile lighting up my star’s face.

  “You’re already composing something in your mind.” Celesta gave me a knowing smirk. She already knew me too well.

  “Maybe,” I answered bashfully. I was saved from further discussion by the arrival of our first course.

  Our ride back to the hotel was quiet. I was lost in thoughts of the angel sitting next to me. Need coursed through me—need to touch her, mark her, make her fall apart. Make her sing an accompaniment to the song already winding its way through my head and wrapping around my heart.

  All too soon, Kent pulled up in front of the hotel’s pink façade. I wasted no time ushering her out of the car and down the stone path through the lush vegetation. When we were far enough away from the bustle of other people, I broke the silence. “Are you sober right now?” I growled.

  “Yes, I only had two drinks. I had a slight buzz, but it’s fading. Why do you ask?” Celesta looked up at me all innocence and light.

  “I need you sober and aware for what comes next.” I opened the door to our bungalow, then closed it with my mind, cocooning us inside.

  “And just what’s coming next?”

  I tugged her to me and murmured huskily into the shell of her ear, “You are. Over and over again.”

  26

  Celesta

  The rest of our weekend passed blissfully, with much of our time spent relaxing in the bungalow’s pool. Sunday dawned bright and clear, which was pretty typical for a California day. But I was sad. I’d enjoyed our time in this bubble of sunshine. Returning to Austin would be a return to reality and all the things I should’ve been focused on besides my growing feelings for Toven.

  “All packed?” Toven asked as he entered the bedroom.

  I nodded as I zipped up my bag.

  He strode over to me in a handful of quick steps. One finger pressed my chin up so he could see my eyes. “If you’re nervous about getting back on a plane, we can drive back.”

  “Thanks for offering. But flying is fine. It really is faster. You’ll just have to keep me distracted.” I grinned up at him flirtatiously.

  He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and leaned down to press his lips to mine. “Oh, that I can definitely do, my star.”

  A knock on the door interrupted the moment.

  “That�
�ll be Kent. I can have him drive us all the way home if you want. Just say the word, baby.”

  That term of endearment did things to my insides. He’d used it several times over the weekend and I liked it. A lot. Probably too much.

  I wrapped my hand around his wrist where it cradled my cheek. “I want to overcome my fear. With you, I feel like I can.”

  The emotion that spread over his features was indescribable. Something more than joy. I loved that I put it on his face.

  He hugged me to him, his heart thumping beneath where my ear pressed to his chest. After all we’d done and shared, this moment was probably one of our most intimate ones. It was different. Not fueled by passion or desire. This was powered by genuine affection. Hope definitely bloomed eternal.

  The front door echoed with another round of knocking. Toven squeezed me gently then grabbed all of our bags and dashed to the living room with them.

  I slid my purse strap up on my shoulder, turned to survey the room one last time, scooped up my stuffed penguin, then went to where Toven waited for me by the door.

  “Kent’s loading the car,” Toven explained when I looked around for our stuff. “Ready?”

  “Back to reality,” I sang with a laugh.

  ♪ Back to Life by Soul II Soul

  “But hopefully a good reality.” His hand landed on the small of my back, urging me from our haven. “I’ll bring you back here again.”

  “I’d like that,” I whispered as the door shut behind us.

  I clenched my hands in my lap, twisting my fingers until the color had been wrung out of them. Toven was up front, talking with the pilot.