This Time Tomorrow

by Tessa Bailey

  “Accept it. You’re out.” Rob raked in his chips. “Take your shit and go.”

  “That’s for me to say,” the man of the house said smoothly. He tilted his head at the fae. “Take your shit and go.”

  A ripple of light crossed through the fae’s bulging eyes.

  Was it Roksana’s imagination or did Elias slide his chair closer to hers?

  With her backpack upstairs, her fingers itched to have a stake at the ready. Neither of the men posturing at each other across the poker table was a vampire, but it was her weapon of choice nonetheless.

  A full ten seconds had passed in the basement without sound or movement, until Cosette laughed merrily at the bar—and the fae lunged for the envelope in the center of the table. Rob snarled and leapt onto the green felt, catching the fae by his forearm and—biting down like a dog with a bone.

  Beneath the table, Elias laid a protective hand on her thigh. As if to say, I’ve got you.

  Everything south of her belly button melted and clenched, heat stealing up her front and making her nipples peak. His spiced pine scent wound her up like a clock, each of her pulse points ticking, ticking, ticking. Still, she shook off his touch, confused about his presence there and angry he’d kept his participation in the game from her. Hell, maybe she was simply angry that one touch of his hand could make her forget who she was. What she was fighting for.

  Roksana turned to deliver him a frown for good measure—

  “What…” she whispered, instead, her muscles tensing.

  Elias’s eyes were black—and fixed on her neck.

  His mouth was open just enough to show her the tip of his fangs, his seductive energy pulling her deep into a dense, blurring eddy of need.

  Oh my God. What is happening?

  Her attention was drawn away when the fae bashed the back of Rob’s head with a fist. Still, Rob, his eyes possessed, wouldn’t let go. An arc of dark blue blood splashed across the felt, but still the fae held on to the marriage decree. Over the top of the tussle, Roksana could see Tucker leaning back in his chair and observing the fray, casual as he pleased.

  “Darling,” Cosette called. “This is getting boring.”

  “Couldn’t agree more.” The man of the house pulled a handgun from his previously unspotted ankle holster, aimed, and fired at both men. Elias threw himself in front of Roksana, using his body to back her chair across the room—and in a blur, Tucker was there, too, using his broad body to shield her. But not before she saw both of the fighting men slump in a death pose in the center of the poker table.

  “Zhizn’ ebet meya,” Roksana muttered.

  Life is fucking me.

  “Well now.” The murderous dealer fired a bullet up at the ceiling, raining plaster down onto the dead pair. “We’re off to a fine start.” He treated the remaining guests to a toothy smile. “How does everyone feel about a short break while we get this mess cleaned up?”

  Roksana took a backwards lunge and booked it up the stairs. “Don’t get rattled,” she ordered herself in a winded whisper. “They knew what they were getting into and so did you.”

  At the top of the stairs, another wave of alarm passed through her when she discovered her backpack of weapons was not where she’d left it. Gone. She couldn’t decide which direction to go searching, either. But she needed to get somewhere, be alone, get her shock under control. Since when did she let a little death and blood distract her from reaching a goal?

  Since you went to New York, whispered a voice in the back of her head.

  A better question was, when had she last reached a goal she’d set out to achieve?

  She pressed a hand over her mouth, as if to keep the truth at bay and jogged up the opulent staircase leading to the second floor. Before she could turn the corner and hit the next flight, she heard him coming.

  Elias. His presence was like a stick of dynamite exploding in the marble foyer below. Roksana slowed to a stop and watched him storm after her, his strides long and purposeful. Tucker stepped into his path and put a hand to his chest, saying something to him Roksana couldn’t hear, but Elias easily evaded his friend and began taking the steps two at a time.

  Though it was unlike her, she ran.

  She didn’t know what else to do.

  In this vulnerable state, she wouldn’t be able to cling to her rage. Her sadness. Her betrayal. “Leave me alone,” she called to him over her shoulder.

  “I can’t,” he said, raggedly.

  Once drunk, the concoction determines what it is you want the most in life. It will amplify that desire. Enflame it.

  Cosette’s earlier words blared in Roksana’s head and she tripped to a stop beneath an unlit chandelier, her feet sinking into the thick ruby-red carpet of the large landing. She remembered the way Elias had looked at her at the poker table. How he followed her now, a man missing his usual restraint. Did that mean…she was what Elias wanted most in life?

  “Double dose,” she whispered, turning to face Elias, just as he crested the top of the stairs. Here was not the man she’d met in Vegas, nor was it the complicated creature she’d spent years trying to gather the willpower to kill. This was Elias, the vampire. The predator. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t hurt her.

  This Elias?

  He was a wildcard.

  And yet, she ached to run to him. To cradle his face in her neck and tell him whatever this was would pass. God, he’d saved her from this fate, taking the burden of their amplified desires on himself. Still, even though she wanted to soothe him, she backed away instead. Backed away from the fever he was stirring in her with his raw, open display of hunger. “Elias. What are you doing?”

  “Roksana,” he growled, ripping at his hair. “The pain.”

  “It’s a headache, da? You want to check the medicine cabinet for some aspirin?” She continued backward until she hit a pillar, sidestepped it and kept going, deeper into the dark corridor. Doors lined the landing and she thought about ducking into one, finding a place to hide and catch Elias off-guard after he passed, but the lack of escape routes made her hesitant to enter any of the rooms. “I think we can eliminate heartburn.”

  “Stop running from me. I hate it.”

  Roksana bristled. “I don’t run. I gauge my opponent.”

  “I am not your opponent,” Elias roared.

  The hallway lit up with loud zapping sounds, sconces flickering and shooting off sparkles of light, before everything went black again. “You…are doing that. You manipulated the lights the night you found me, too. It was not a dream?”

  In her awe, Roksana forgot to back away. Or maybe in her bones she never wanted to put distance between them to begin with. Whatever the reason, Elias drew closer, his fingers still sunk into his dark hair, the strands twisting between his fingers. “The pain,” he gritted.

  “You have to tell me what hurts,” she whispered. “If it’s blood you need, I-I can’t—”

  “It’s everything.” Elias fell to his knees in front of Roksana, walking forward and wrapping his huge arms around her middle, pulling her stomach flush to his face. “The pain of not having you as my own is excruciating. Don’t you understand?”

  Her very being seized and shook, her lungs emptying of air.

  She was the thing Elias wanted most in the world?

  How could that be?

  How dare that be true?

  When she thought him an indifferent murderer with whom she shared an attraction, staying away had been easier. Now? Now her own attraction stole through every limb, free of her denial, loose to run amuck. Before Roksana was aware of her own actions, she’d slipped her fingers into his hair, lightly running her nails along his scalp. She trailed them down his neck and traced his earlobes, her eyelids fluttering when he sagged against her, groaning into her stomach.

  “Your beauty eats me alive, Roksana.” He nipped at her belly button through the leather of her dress, turning her nipples to tight, little bullets. “Not having you is hell. I live in hell.” />
  “Stop,” she breathed, her heart missing beats all over the place. Worry for Elias battled with duty and the former was winning. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Give yourself to me.” His arms banded tighter, his mouth traveling up her stomach toward her breasts, those ink-black eyes intent on her cleavage. “I need to take you, Roksana. Hard and fast and completely. But I will drive the stake through my own heart before hurting you. Flesh or soul. So I’m begging you to give me your body. Freely.” He bit into the bodice of her dress and dragged it down, exposing her heaving breasts. “I’m begging for your blood.”

  Roksana’s neck went instantly loose, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip to keep a moan from slipping out. She would deny fantasizing about Elias drinking from her until she breathed her last, but the truth was, sometimes late at night in the dark, she reached down beneath the covers and pet herself while imagining it. To be the woman sacrificing herself so that he might have strength—to calm his hunger—called to a deep, unexplainable part of her. She wanted to experience that piercing of skin, his desperate pulls of her neck. Even the vulnerability and helplessness appealed to her. Use me, savor me, own me.

  Oh God, she couldn’t. She couldn’t give in. “It’s just the drink she gave you,” Roksana pushed through panting lips. “You’ve never been like this. Not since…” A pang stuck her at the reminder of Vegas. “It’s not real.”

  Elias stilled, his genuinely confused eyes locking in on her, holding her captive. “I’m always this desperate for you. Every minute, every second, every day. The drink only took away my ability to hide it. Believe me, Roksana.”

  His words stole her breath…and her final reservations began falling one by one.

  What if she said yes?

  Just this once?

  Elias wouldn’t tell anyone. Her secret moment of weakness would be safe.

  And when you kill him? It’ll be really safe then.

  That thought almost spurred her into a panic, but the barest hint of Elias’s lip brushed the tip of Roksana’s nipple and she gasped, clenching her thighs together, her femininity growing weighty, wet. If she truly planned to kill him, didn’t she deserve to create this memory? Her need for fulfilment from Elias had been a constant curse, keeping her body yearning day and night for years, and here was the remedy. Him. No one would know if she took what he gave. Offered what he needed in return. No one would know, but she’d have the echo of this night to call forth in the dark forever. She couldn’t resist it. Couldn’t resist him.

  “You may have me and my blood,” she whispered unevenly.

  When he made a hoarse sound and pulled her down to the carpeted floor, it felt nothing short of inevitable. She stuffed a rag in the mouth of her common sense, crossed her wrists above her head, arched her back and abandoned everything but sensation. Here in the dark, in the middle of this surreal night, she would give in to the fierce attraction she’d lived with so long. She’d pay homage to the girl who never got her night with the man of her dreams. And she would ease his suffering because every fiber of her being called on her to do so.

  Elias rose up over Roksana, studying her face as if to make sure she’d meant yes. Really meant it. Whatever he saw there made him growl. Made his fangs elongate in the gentle moonlight. His tongue curled around one and she whimpered, recognizing the sound as something base, uncontrollable. “I’ve never felt grateful to be immortal until now,” he rasped, dragging a fingertip slowly downward between her breasts. “But losing the memory of this by dying would be unacceptable.”

  Roksana held her breath as Elias lowered his head to the peak of her right breast, groaning through a slow lick, then opening his mouth wide to suckle both nipple and areola, drawing on her until his cheekbones hollowed. Her hands flew to her sides, fingers digging into the carpet. She looked up at the ceiling blindly, her knees jerking up just as Elias settled between them, pinning her lower body to the floor with his substantial weight.

  Without warning, he punched his hips forward roughly, baring his teeth against her ear. “Do you know what your little entrance downstairs did to my cock, Roksana? I almost yanked up this fucking dress, pushed you face down over the poker table and hit your pussy from the back.” He kissed her neck sweetly, his manner at odds with his coarse language. “Now pull it up around your waist and get it out of my goddamn way.”

  Roksana’s hands were shaking as she reached down and gathered the hem. “Tonight is your one free pass to speak to me with that trash mouth, vampire.”

  His impatient hands covered hers, helping her draw up the tight hem of her dress, leaving her naked from the waist down. “Every filthy word makes your pulse go crazy, baby. That fucking pulse. Even when you’re continents away, it haunts me.” He crashed his lips down on top of hers, desperate, seeking her tongue with his own—and she gave it, moaning at the feel of his fangs pressing to her top lip. “Wrap your thighs around me. I’m not waiting. I can’t.”

  “I don’t want you to wait,” she managed, drawing up her legs and squeezing his ribcage. “Just…”

  He paused in the act of licking the side of her neck. “Just what?”

  Roksana’s breath hitched, heat pushing against the backs of her eyelids. “Y-you’re not going to forget this, are you?”

  For the briefest moment in time, utter ruin was a living thing on his face, but it quickly passed, replaced by white hot intensity. “Never, Roksana. Never. That’s a promise.” With his mouth poised on top of hers, Elias reached down and unzipped his pants, making a sound in his throat when he fisted himself. He dragged the head of his sex through her damp folds, his eyes losing focus with every pass, his fangs seeming to sharpen and throb. “I’m going to remember how wet my trash mouth made you between these legs, baby. Going to remember how you’re looking up at me with trust, even though I’m trying…I’m trying so damn hard not to go fast and break you. I’m going to remember your hair spread out behind you, the same color as the moon. I’m going to remember it all. Every goddamn detail. Okay?”

  With an effort, she swallowed, some of the tension leaving her chest. “Okay.” A muscle jumped in his cheek and he seemed to be fighting a battle against saying more, but in the end he kissed her thoroughly, his fist still moving the blunt tip of his shaft from her entrance to her clit, again and again and again, until her hips turned agitated on the floor and she was panting, her fingers twisting in the back of his shirt. “Elias.”

  “Roksana,” he said thickly against her lips, finally pushing the first, wide inch of his erection inside of her, then spearing deep with a hard twist of his hips. “Roksana.”

  Overhead, bulbs shattered, setting off crackling fireworks in the dark hallway, outlining Elias’s strong shoulders and head with a light show.

  Explosions went off inside Roksana as well. Thrilling ones, victorious ones.

  I’m full of him. So full. So complete.

  There was discomfort, as well, but it made her feel like a woman, a warrior and a sexpot all rolled into one. Her ache was full of his ache. They ached together.

  “You’re a virgin,” he choked out into her neck. “Goddammit, Roks, am I hurting you?”

  “A little.” She shifted her hips experimentally and he made a guttural, open-mouthed sound into the crook of her neck. “But I am used to pain, vampire.”

  “Not from me.” His tone was vehement. “Not physically.”

  If she found his statement odd, she was too wrapped up in the rush of endorphins to examine it too closely. “It is a good pain.” She squeezed him with her inner walls, whimpering when he swelled thicker inside of her, his abs jolting and flexing. “It’s the kind that l-leads to reward, is it not?”

  “Yes.” He pressed his forehead down on hers, enthralling her with eyes that were slowly turning from black to gold, a glow increasing in their depths. “You’re going to get a reward all right. Just keep your thighs open and that pussy tight.”

  His bad language made her flesh sp
asm around his shaft and they both groaned, Elias starting to rock his hips, lips peeling back to reveal the full, dangerous size of his fangs. “After all the taunting.” He thrust roughly and she cried out. “Flaunting ex-boyfriends.” Another merciless pump that rattled her teeth. “And threatening to date…” Pound pound pound. “You’re just an innocent, little tease. Aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, exhilaration tickling her nerves endings. Who knew she would like being chastised so much? Lord, she did, though. She loved him calling her on the head games she’d played. Loved being sensually punished for them, one plunder of her body at a time. Loved the hard smack of his muscle, the quiver of her feminine flesh in response, the way her body stretched to acclimate to him. “Big,” she babbled, head tossing side to side. “You’re so big.”

  The pace of his drives sped up, their eyes locked on one another. “I’m the right size for Roksana. That’s all I care about.” He reached down and squeezed her hip with blatant ownership, before walking his fingers to the place where their bodies joined, finding her clit with the pad of his middle finger and rubbing it in circles. “God help me, that pulse of yours is driving me insane. I don’t know how I’ve existed at all without tasting you.”

  Knowing the moment drew close, Roksana’s sex constricted and she lost her ability to breathe. All she could do was turn her head to one side and beg incoherently for the act she didn’t understand, had no experience with, but somehow was essential. “Need it, need it.”

  Elias flattened his tongue on her pulse, his body never ceasing in its deliberate invasion of hers, his hips pumping madly as his fangs settled over her neck, pressing tight, but holding back from breaking the skin. “My hunger for you goes so far beyond blood, Roksana. But it flows in the same endless way. You hear me?” Eyes a bright, burnished gold, he kissed her pulse reverently. “Mine.”

  His fangs sank deep and paralysis locked her limbs, but somehow, she’d never felt more. A rush of dizziness fogged her mind, pleasure dug silken claws into her loins. She burned to wrap her body around Elias and hold him fast, but she was immobile, save the thundering of her heart. How could it not beat out of control when he feasted on her neck as if he’d just discovered his favorite flavor, moaning loud enough to make her ears ring. One of his hands cradled her cheek, the other balanced him on the ground, and pull, after pull, after pull of her blood made him wild, made him take her roughly, their bodies straining on the floor of the hallway—