She stiffened and spun back around, shooting daggers at McCallister. “Oh. Hell. No. You are not giving my story away, Steve. I don’t need a break and I sure as hell don’t need to be coddled. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” She snapped the phone closed before he could protest again.
“You’re safer here,” McCallister said softly.
“I’m a grown woman, I know how to use a gun and I have a taser. I’m good.”
She was so angry right now completing sentences was a major accomplishment. “This was a mistake, McCallister.” Pain dropped in rivets down her spine. She rubbed at her back. “Don’t get me wrong, the sex was great. Hell, it was awesome. I don’t mind telling you it was the best sex I ever had since I doubt your ego could get much bigger. But it’s done now. Over with. One night, that’s it.”
A loud whistle started in her ears, growing in strength and intensity until the pain forced her to her knees.
Suddenly, McCallister was in front of her. His hands cupped her head and the noise lessened.
“Sheridan, focus on me.”
His voice warbled to her through layers of the cotton in her ears. She stared at his mouth like a lifeline.
“Concentrate on me,” he said. “Think of me. My face. My arms. Holding you.”
She struggled to form the images. When she finally re-created the final scene from the night before, when he held her in his arms and kissed her softly, the noise abated. Ceasing as suddenly as it’d begun.
She squeezed her eyes against the tears that now threatened.
He hauled her into his arms. A fine tremor wracked him.
Sheridan tipped her head back. “What’s wrong? What was that?”
His jaw pulsed and his crisp apple green eyes shone brightly with the eerie internal light. He looked like he was struggling to contain...something.
“We are Joined, Sheridan. A part of one another. Denying it, ignoring it, threatens our bond.”
Brushing away the tears, she sniffled loudly. “You didn’t mention that.”
“Are you sure? It’s kind of important.”
She glared up at him. “Yeah, I’m positive.” But she wasn’t. Not really. Ever since meeting the vampire detective, her mind had been in a whirl of sensation overload. He probably could have told her she’d be queen of Norway at some point and she doubted she’d remember. “I think you need to tell me every single thing of this Joining.”
He looked at his watch again. “Tonight, I’ll tell you everything.”
“But—”
He laid a finger over her lips. “I promise, Sheridan. I’ll tell you everything.”
She sighed, realizing she didn’t have a choice. McCallister was as stubborn as she was. “Are you going to tell me what you just did to stop that noise?”
He wiped away a stray tear. The light in his eyes had lessened but the green glow was still pretty strong. “I didn’t do anything, sweetheart. You did it all. I just gave you something to focus on.” He rubbed her back lightly. “If it happens again, hell if anything like that happens again, do the same thing. Concentrate on us and you should be able to block whatever it is.”
His big palm sweeping up and down her back felt heavenly. She still frowned. “Wait a sec, are you saying that someone is going to try and invade my mind? Someone besides you?”
His expression tightened. “It shouldn’t be possible now that we’re Joined. I’m just telling you as a precaution. You have my protection, Sheridan. You’re not invincible, but you’re stronger than you were.”
“Huh.”
McCallister lightly slapped her butt. “That doesn’t mean you can go out and do something foolish.”
“Wouldn’t think of it,” she assured him.
“Bullshit,” he countered. “You just did.”
She laughed. “Guilty.” Sheridan pulled away from him. “I need to borrow some clothes so I can drive home. Don’t wanna do it naked, you know.”
McCallister remained tense for a moment before she felt him relax. “Naked looks good on you, sweetheart. In fact, I’m going to go ahead and say whenever we’re home alone, you should be naked.” He grinned. “Yeah, starting tonight.”
“Wait a sec, who said I was coming back here tonight? I have a place of my own, you know.”
“I know, but I’m not done exploring you.” His mouth quirked upward. “Please come back tonight, Sheridan.”
It was the please that got to her. She had a feeling he didn’t use the word often. McCallister definitely demanded, expected, and commanded instead of requested.
“Okay,” she said and smiled up at his surprised start.
His eyes darkened and a languid, lush desire built between her legs. Sheridan inhaled sharply and leaned into him, lifting her head for his kiss.
His mouth met hers in a sweet, soft embrace she felt all the way to her toes. She grabbed at his sport coat and held on with both hands.
Open for me.
She parted her lips and his tongue slipped inside. He stroked her tongue, retreated, then claimed her again before breaking the kiss.
She couldn’t help but feel branded by his taste, the pressure of his mouth, and the slick slide of his tongue.
He invaded every pore.
Left her wanting more.
Called to her soul.
Sheridan rose on tiptoe and kissed him lightly. She feathered tiny, quick kisses to his lips. Just enough to tease but never enough to satisfy either of them.
He growled in his throat. His hand tangled in her hair and pulled her head backward. “You’re a temptation, Sheridan Aames. Do you have any idea how much I want to take you back to bed?”
She ground her hips to his. “Yeah, I have an idea.”
“Minx,” he whispered. His eyes gleamed as he lowered his head. A whisper of a kiss brushed her lips then traced down to her jaw. He tipped her head and softly trailed his mouth along the column of her neck until his lips settled on the tender point where he’d claimed her the night before.
He flicked the tip of his tongue over the spot then clamped his teeth down.
Goose bumps erupted over her arms and down her thighs. He didn’t pierce her but the erotic sensation of his teeth coupled with the soft suction made her knees weak and her desire ratchet even higher. Too damn bad prudence reared its logical head. She pulled back and held her hands up.
“I have to go to work.”
McCallister lifted a brow. “After I make love to you,” he said.
The sensual words clamped around her with the force of a vise grip and she wavered. What’s a few more minutes? Or hours?
“No,” she muttered. Sheridan raked talon stiff fingers through her hair from sheer frustration. She wanted to stay but needed to go. He might be one potent vampire with wicked control over her body but while they weren’t in bed, she steered herself. The niggling fear that he was using sex to keep her home—and safe—refused to leave her mind.
She couldn’t allow that.
“Sorry, McCallister, we’ll have to pick this up later.”
His expression went hooded and a storm brewed in his grass green gaze before distinguishing with a ragged sigh. “I knew you were too clever.”
She inhaled at his unwitting confirmation. Blood beat an angry rhythm against her temples. “You need to learn something about me right now or this thing will never work.”
He crossed his arms.
“I’m not a wilting lily, not a woman waiting to be saved, not the kind of dame who sits on her kazoo and hopes her guy will show up and make the scary go away. I kick ass and take names all on my own. I always have, always will. If this whole submissive thing means I have to become that kind of woman, we’re sunk. It’ll never happen.”
McCallister’s cool, steady regard didn’t waver. Soft whispers fluttered against her mind like butterflies caught in a net. She pushed them away. His lips lifted.
The murmuring grew louder, harsher, more demanding. Sheridan fisted her hands, spread her legs and lifted her c
hin. She would not give in. The wail grew stronger. The image of a tower shield, the kind carried by Templar Knights, sprang to her mind. She clung to it, gathered the noise into a ball and pushed back with the shield as if she were throwing a fastball right down the pike.
McCallister whistled and the noise stopped. He shoved his hands in his pockets and surveyed her with a new appreciative gleam. “That was interesting. How’d you know to do that? I told you to think about us.”
“That was you? What were you trying to do?”
“Distract you. It didn’t work. I’m glad. You can hold your own, Sheridan.” McCallister sauntered forward, tipped her chin up and pressed a soft kiss on her mouth.
She pursed her lips and kept them firm. Her silent form of protest.
He laughed again. “You’re a tough cookie, I get it. And I shouldn’t have tried to trick you into staying all day, in bed, naked and orgasming.”
Well, when you put it that way...
“Is that an apology?” she asked, all the while trying to get her knees to solidify and her pussy to quit clenching.
“It is. I understand your job is important to you, Sheridan. Don’t begrudge my worry for you.”
His soft words burrowed into her heart like ants on a Twinkie. She cupped his face, rose on tiptoe, and kissed him.
“I don’t, but don’t begrudge me my independence. I’ve had to work hard to get where I am professionally. You’ve already taken away my choice in the sex matter, McCallister. Let me adjust to one thing at a time.”
He closed his eyes and hauled her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She stayed within the comfort of his arms for a long, satisfying moment before pushing away. “I need some clothes.”
“I’ve got some sweatpants and a T-shirt you can borrow.”
She smiled her thanks.
He moved to the dresser, fished out a pair of navy sweats and a matching shirt. He also tossed her a pair of socks. “Sorry, you’re SOL for shoes unless you wear your heels.” He winked. “You just might start a new fashion trend.”
“Ugh, no thanks. It’s not that far, but it’s too far to drive bare-assed.” She stepped into the pants and pulled the drawstring as tight as it would go. The large sweats hung precariously on her hips. She tugged the shirt on then the socks. “Okay, I’m ready.”
His lips twitched madly and she didn’t need any kind of psychic connection to know she looked like a homeless rodeo clown.
“Can it, McCallister,” she muttered as they headed back to the living room. Scooping up her purse, she fished out her keys. “What time will you be done with work?”
He locked then checked and re-checked the doors as they stepped into the garage. “Probably eight or so.” He pushed the automatic lift button and caught her around the waist as the wide door shuddered upward. “I can come home sooner if I know you’ll be here naked and waiting.”
She winked and shimmied out of his arms. Skirting the Mustang, she pressed the unlock button on Tess’ fob and opened the door. “You never know, Detective.” She sank into the driver’s seat then popped back out and laid her hand on the hood of the car. “Wait! How do I get in the house if you’re not here?”
His grin was what her daddy would have called “shit-kicking” and smug. “Are you going to freak out if I tell you to just ask the door?”
She shuddered.
“Okay, that’s a yes.” McCallister pulled out a brass key and gave it to her. “I’m just messing with you anyway. We’re not that advanced.”
“My bullshit detector is going off left and right,” she said, dropping the key into her cup holder. “I’m not saying I’m all domestic and stuff but I can cook up a mean pot of chili if you’re interested.”
“Sounds good. I’ve never had real Texas chili before.”
“Holy crap, you guys do eat real food?”
McCallister gently pushed her into the car. “Yes. I can see we are really going to have to have that talk tonight. Otherwise, you’re probably going to imagine the worst and craziest in every situation.”
She laughed but her fingers shook as she tried to find the slot for the car key. “Yeah, you know us writers. Always blowing things out of proportion.”
Tess purred to life. The tall vampire shut the door, tapped the hood, and stepped back.
Sheridan reversed down the drive, shifted into first and left a thin coat of rubber as she sped away. She looked into the rearview mirror and her heart clenched. She didn’t see McCallister in the mirror’s reflection. She looked again.
His black Mustang rolled out onto the street and she nearly sagged with relief.
“Get a grip, girl.” But really, who could blame her? She was just a Texas girl living in a Yankee world and thrown into utter chaos by being bitten by a sexy vampire.
“Everything’s normal,” she said in a sing-song voice.
The sound snapped her out of the slightly hysterical mania gripping her.
Am I nuts? Everything is most definitely not normal. She replayed every moment she’d experienced with McCallister from the first meeting when he’d saved her then scared the hell out of her with his magical mystery ride to his house to the last few hours when he’d made love to her on a level she’d never before experienced.
“Except it wasn’t love-making. It was fucking. Pure and simple.” Her nose tingled and she blinked the sudden moisture from her vision. “Pure. A good word for it.”
The self-analysis threatened what little sanity she had left. Concentrating on the road home seemed the much better, safer solution. The topic of McCallister, mind-blowing sex, and saving the world needed to be examined much, much later. Setting aside the turmoil of thoughts, Sheridan flipped on the radio and sang along to every tune that played in the ten minute drive to her house.
Once inside, Sheridan dashed into her bedroom and tugged off McCallister’s clothes. She left them in a pile on the floor and dug in her closet for something clean.
Laundry hadn’t been at the top of her to-do list for a couple of weeks.
“Crap,” she muttered. “I hope I have some clean underwear.”
She plucked a pair of black slacks from a hanger, paired them with a sleek turquoise vee-neck pullover that sported only a tiny bit of bling and grabbed her favorite black sling backs. Digging through her dresser yielded a canary yellow bra with awesome lift and separation and,—thankfully—a pair of clean undies. Who cared if they were her giant, comfy, period panties? She’d just have to remember to take them off before McCallister got home to see them.
Sheridan dressed with as much haste as possible then ran into the bathroom and brushed her hair. She was debating taking five minutes to do her makeup when she noticed the small bruising on her neck.
Gripping the sink, she leaned closer to the mirror. “Shit!”
Peeling back the edge of her shirt, she stared closer at the two blue pinpricks dotting her neck. She ran her finger over the spots, grimacing at the tenderness and rough scabbing. “Damn it, McCallister.”
She grabbed her tin of mineral make-up and brushed some over the bite mark. Still visible. Adding more just made the area look oddly discolored. With an irritated growl, she washed the make-up off then returned to her closet. The Metro’s offices were usually one of two temperatures—sweltering or frigid, but no one ever knew which it would be. Showing up in a turtleneck wouldn’t raise that many questions. Probably. But what if it were one of those hotter than hell days?
Sheridan riffled through a hanging bag filled with shawls, hats and scarfs. “Aha! Come to mama, you pretty thing.” The long, satin scarf was a mixture of yellow and blue flowers. She could add dangling sunflower earrings and matching bangles and no one would be the wiser.
After donning her accessories, she revisited her image and was relieved to find she looked absolutely normal. Even if I feel anything but normal now.
The clock on the bathroom wall showed nine thirty. Steve was going to have her butt on a platter. “I’ll
be lucky if he doesn’t bump me to classifieds.”
Tossing her red clutch into her larger black-and-white tote, she slammed her door, locked the house up tight and hauled ass through Boston traffic, arriving at the Metro in a record-tying twenty-eight minutes.
No sooner had she stashed her tote in the bottom drawer of her desk than Steve’s salt-and-pepper head poked out from his office and he bellowed her name.
“Coming,” she yelled back. She scooped up her lined steno pad—she preferred pen and paper to computers or tablets when writing—and casually walked down the long hall to his office. The usual jaunt seemed to take mere seconds.
“Hey boss,” she said as she walked in.
“That was fast. What the hell are you doing here?”
She blinked and sank into the chair in front of his desk. “I’m fine, thanks for asking. Good to see you, too.”
“Cut the crap, Aames. Detective McCallister was pretty clear he didn’t want you out and about being a target.”
She fisted her hands, crinkling the cover of her pad. She smoothed the cardboard out as she tried to form a response. “I’m surprised, Steve.”
He glared at her and paced the small area between the wall, his desk and the office door. His hands flailed at his sides as he walked. “By what? That you’re still alive? Me, too.”
“No, that you just took his word for everything without even talking to me.”
Steve stopped walking and turned slowly to look at her. His brown eyes were absolutely huge and shock covered every inch of his face. “He was lying?” The editor’s gaze narrowed as he shook his head. “No, he’s a cop. I checked him out. He’s totally legit.”
Sheridan swallowed a snort and looked away from her boss. She wasn’t about to touch that ridiculous statement. She knew if Steve had a freaking clue just what kind of cop McCallister was, the presses would be stopped and tomorrow’s headline would read something sensational like Vampire Invasion or They Walk Among Us.
Yeah, Steve liked his drama.
“He’s a cop all right,” she finally said. “But I’m not in imminent danger, no matter what he said.”
“Right. ’Cause those bullets aimed at your head were made of bubble gum.”
Bound By His Blood Page 14
