Wounded Soul

by Annabelle Jacobs

  Tipping his head back onto Ian’s shoulder, Jesse whispered. “Took you long enough.” He nipped the side of Ian’s neck, the sharp sting going straight to his groin, and Ian moaned.

  “I was enjoying watching.”

  “Hmm.” Jesse put his hands over Ian’s, urging Ian to hold on tighter. “That so?”

  “Yeah. I’m not really one for dancing, but you looked like you were about to get company.”

  Jesse laughed, the sound low and throaty, and fuck, for a moment Ian wished he could take him home now.

  He chased that thought away before any guilt seeped in. He’d promised Cate.

  A couple of hours dancing with Jesse wouldn’t be a bad way to pass time. He inched his fingers inward, the tips on his right hand meeting the firm bulge where Jesse’s jeans pulled taut over his erection. Jesse hummed and moved Ian’s hand until he was fully palming Jesse’s cock.

  On second thought, two hours of this was going to kill him.

  With a hand around Ian’s neck, Jesse leant back into him, his arse pressing against Ian’s groin as he moved in time to the music with a sinewy grace Ian envied.

  “I’m gonna come in my jeans at this rate,” Ian muttered, words lost to the pulsing beat as soon as they left his mouth.

  Somehow Jesse heard them anyway, and he spun around, plastering himself against Ian’s front this time and looping both arms around his neck. “What a waste that would be,” he whispered, straight into Ian’s ear, once again making him shiver as Jesse’s breath tickled his skin. “I want to taste it when you come, or feel it on my skin. Maybe feel you lose control while you’re inside me.” He nipped at Ian’s ear, teeth sharp, and Ian gasped, both at the filthy words coming out of Jesse mouth and the sharp sting of his bite.

  “You’re not helping.”

  Jesse laughed. “Sorry.” He wound his fingers into Ian’s hair, tugging him into a kiss, and Ian sighed, giving in.

  Their bodies moved as one. Ian had never felt this loose, this relaxed as he let Jesse guide him with his hips and his thighs and sank into a kiss he felt all the way to his toes.

  They could’ve kissed for hours or seconds; Ian had no idea. Time seemed to both last forever and pass in the blink of an eye before Jesse was stepping back and taking his hand. “Come on. Let’s go get a drink.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Though reluctant to leave Jesse’s hot embrace, it was probably a good idea to cool off for a bit.

  They snagged a couple of stools at the end of Cate’s bar, well out of the way of people queuing for drinks. She spotted them, signalled she’d be over in a bit, and went back to serving the couple in front of her.

  “Are you a professional dancer?” Ian blurted out, still a little dazed by their time on the dance floor. “Because you move like you could be. Should be,” he added with a smirk. He expected Jesse to laugh or at least be flattered, but a shadow past over his face. “Did I say something wrong?”

  He seemed to shake himself, the smile reappearing, albeit a muted version. “No, I’m not a dancer.”

  “Figures you’d just be naturally good at it.” Ian gestured to him with a huff of laughter.

  “What?”

  “Well, you’re fit as fuck. Of course you dance like a stripper.”

  Now Jesse laughed, eyes lighting up with amusement. “Thanks. I think.”

  “It’s a compliment.” Imagining Jesse dancing on a pole wasn’t doing anything to dispel Ian’s hard-on. Blowing out a breath, he tried to change the subject. “What do you do then? Job-wise.”

  “I’m actually a chef.” He laughed softly and shook his head.

  “Why’s that funny?” Ian frowned.

  “It’s not, it’s just . . . never mind.” Reaching for Ian’s hand, he twined their fingers. “My house mates tease me, that’s all. They reckon it’s a weird job for someone who eats as little as me.”

  “They sound like wankers.”

  Jesse’s smile widened. “Yeah, a couple of them are, but the rest of them are all right.”

  How many does he have? Ian wondered. But then Jesse started to trace the veins in his wrist, the touch light, yet it felt like fire on Ian’s skin. “So um . . . Where do you work?”

  “Hmm?” Jesse glanced up from where he’d been watching his fingers move, tongue tracing along his bottom lip. It took him a second to focus on Ian. “Work?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m between jobs at the minute.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  Jesse shook his head. “No, it’s fine. It’s my choice.”

  Fair enough. Ian was curious as to what he did for money, but now wasn’t the time for that conversation. At least he wasn’t in danger of coming in his pants any more.

  “What about you? What do you do?” Jesse asked, gaze dropping back to Ian’s wrist.

  “I’m the HR manager for One-Del.”

  Jesse frowned for a second, then seemed to recognise the name. “Oh, the delivery people?”

  “Yeah.” Ian nodded. “I know it doesn’t sound very glamorous, but—”

  Jesse met his gaze, the intense look in his eye making Ian falter. “Do you enjoy it?” His voice sounded far too seductive for the question he’d asked.

  Ian swallowed. “Um, yeah. Yes, I do. Most days.” He shrugged, trying—and failing—to tear his eyes away from Jesse’s.

  “That’s all that matters, then.”

  “Hey,” Cate interrupted. “What can I get you? Usual?” She glanced between them, eyebrow raised, and Ian wondered what they looked like to garner that reaction.

  “Yeah, please.”

  Jesse nodded and Cate twirled away to get their drinks.

  “Has there been some trouble around here recently?” Jesse asked, shifting on his seat so their thighs brushed.

  Ian frowned. “Not that I’m aware of, why?”

  “Because you offered to walk Cate to her car after her shift, so I just wondered—”

  “How did you know about that?”

  Jesse looked a little sheepish, fingers still stroking up and down the inside of Ian’s arm, following the vein. “Sorry. I overheard you talking when I first got here. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, it’s fine.” Jesus, he must have ears like a bat! Ian scrambled to remember if they’d said anything embarrassing. Thankfully he didn’t think so. “And no trouble as such.” He struggled to think of something plausible that didn’t sound like a lie. “Normally Cate closes up with a couple of the others, so there’s a few of them who walk out together. But she finishes early tonight, so it’ll be just her.” He fought not to grimace. At half twelve on a Friday night, it wouldn’t exactly be deserted on the streets, but he’d panicked trying to think of something. It wasn’t as though he could just say, “Hey, we just found out vampires are a thing, and Cate is a bit skittish at night now.”

  He smiled, hoping it looked more genuine than it felt. “I offered to walk her to her car, and she said yes. We’ll be here till about twelve-thirty, when her shift ends. That okay?” As soon as the words were out, he blushed and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, sorry. Assuming of course you want to do that?” Fuck.

  Jesse’s eyes darkened, his gaze sweeping over Ian from head to toe, and his fingers circled Ian’s wrist in a loose grip. “I do.” As he leant closer, his knee rubbed up the inside of Ian’s thigh. “I came here for you tonight. No one else.”

  Ian’s smile grew. “Well, in that case, when we’ve walked Cate to her car, do you want to come home with me?”

  “I’d love to.”

  “There you go.” Cate plonked their drinks down unceremoniously on the bar in front of them. She glanced between them and rolled her eyes. “No need to rub it in. Some of us’ll be going home alone tonight.”

  Ian shrugged, smile huge by this point. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, you look it.” She pointed a finger between them. “No shagging in the toilets. I don’t want you getting thrown out before I clock off.”

  It was Ian’s tur
n to roll his eyes. “I’m sure we’ll manage to control ourselves.” Although with the way Jesse’s knee move back and forth with just the right amount of pressure, Ian wasn’t so sure.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jesse played with his glass, fingers skimming around the rim as he inwardly struggled to get himself back under control. Too many truths—or as near to the truth as he could get—had slipped out tonight. Ian seemed to bring out a reckless side Jesse had thought long gone.

  He made him feel young again.

  Jesse was no stranger to picking up humans from bars like this, but he never revealed more than a first name, and even that tended to be a lie. Safety lay in anonymity. They didn’t need to know his age, profession, or anything else about him that might stick in their memory and come back to haunt him. You never knew what fate had in store.

  Talking to Ian was easy.

  Too easy.

  Was it because he saw Callum in him? Did that make him drop his guard a little and revert to the boy he’d been all those years ago?

  Maybe.

  Telling Ian his age was one thing. It was on his driving licence for all to see, though off by a few decades, obviously. Jesse had been a chef when he was human, that much had been sort of true—well, he’d been working his way up to be one.

  Not the most useful profession to bring with you when you were turned, but he’d kept his hand in over the years, working at various low-key establishments that wanted late night cooks. Again, not something he usually shared.

  But the dancing . . .

  Jesse hardly ever danced anymore.

  That had been his and Callum’s thing. Of course in those days, they couldn’t rock up to a bar like this one and just dance the night away. It was harder to find somewhere to relax and be themselves without fear of being arrested, but they managed. Sometimes they’d just dance in silence behind closed doors, locked away in their rooms. Ian might think Jesse was a good dancer, but Callum had been something else.

  “Hey? You all right?” Ian nudged him, and Jesse startled to have been caught so off guard.

  Get a fucking grip, Jesse.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out a bit. Sorry.” He took a deep breath in to keep up appearances, but that turned out to be a mistake. Smells invaded his senses—alcohol, sweat, aftershave of every kind, but underneath it all the familiar tang of blood lingered on the air. A fight nearby, maybe?

  His gaze automatically dropped to Ian’s neck, fixating on the steady beat of his pulse.

  Fuck.

  The urge to feed suddenly gripped him like a vice, teeth aching with the need to drop down and his body on high alert searching for the source.

  He’d fed before coming out tonight, of course he had, but the need was always there, hovering underneath the surface. After so many years of practice, Jesse had learnt to keep a tight rein on his instincts, but tonight . . .

  He’d messed up, let his control slip for a moment too long, and was about to pay the price if he didn’t get out of there.

  “Actually, you know what?” he said standing abruptly. “I’m feeling a little off.” He waved a hand towards the door. “I’m just gonna go and get some fresh air. Be back in a sec.”

  “You want me to come with?” Ian was halfway off his stool, but Jesse stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

  “Nah, it’s fine.” The last thing he needed was Ian out there with him while he was trying to get himself back under control. “I won’t be long.”

  “Okay.” Ian had a slight frown, but he let Jesse go without further protest, thank fuck.

  Head down, refusing to breathe in anymore of his surroundings, Jesse made his way to the front door and escape. Whoever was bleeding, they were in the other direction, making his exit relatively easy.

  Once out in the street, Jesse ducked into the alley next door, far enough down not to be all that noticeable, and leant against the wall. Head back, eyes closed, he worked on pushing the need for blood back down, away from the surface. It’d been so long since it’d taken him by surprise like that, he’d forgotten what it was like. Normally he felt it building, had enough warning to get himself something to eat and never find himself in a position like this—hungry and in the middle of fucking Bristol on a Friday night.

  Movement further down the alley caught his attention, the scratch of claws on concrete. Rat maybe? No, too big. Cat? The thought was fleeting, but he dismissed the idea as soon as it popped into his head. He wasn’t feeding on someone’s fucking pet.

  Especially not a cat.

  The smart thing to do would be to go home, back to the safety of his coven, then feed and send his apologies to Ian.

  It was what he should do.

  What Raph would want him to do.

  But every part of Jesse wanted to go back in there. Wanted to feel Ian’s body against his as they danced some more. Wanted to go home with him and taste every part of him. His fangs dropped down of their own accord as Jesse pictured biting into him. Imagined his fangs sinking into the tender skin of Ian’s wrist as he fucked him with slow measured strokes, drawing out his orgasm as he fed on his blood.

  “Jesus Christ,” he hissed, opening his eyes and trying to shake the image away. He was hard, almost painfully so in the ridiculously tight jeans he had on. Palming his cock did nothing to alleviate it, and Jesse groaned, needing so many things right then, his head swam with it.

  A scent on the air caught his attention and his head snapped around to the front of the alley.

  Lys.

  And she came bearing gifts.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” his voice barely carried, it was so quiet, but loud enough for her to hear. Without thinking, he widened his stance, ready.

  “Hey,” she raised her hands. “Calm the fuck down.” As she got closer, the second scent accompanying her grew stronger, thicker in the air, and Jesse moaned softly, licking over his fangs. “I was on a MacDonald’s run for the nurses, and I caught your scent.”

  Jesse scoffed. “And you just happened to carry a pack of blood around with you?”

  She grinned. “Fine. I knew you were coming here, and on the off chance you might need a little something extra, I came prepared.” She slipped her hand inside her coat and drew out a familiar-looking package. Jesse almost drooled at the sight of it. “I was going to text you as I got near, but then I scented you out here.” She threw him the bag, and Jesse plucked it out of the air, wasting no time in tearing into it.

  Even colder than he liked, it tasted like heaven on his tongue, and Jesse didn’t stop until he’d empty the bag of every last drop.

  “Better?” Lys asked, eyeing him from a few feet away.

  Control returned, Jesse cringed at the state he’d let himself lapse into. “Yeah. Thanks.” He licked his lips, trying to remove every trace of blood. “And I’m sorry for . . .”

  “For behaving like an arse?” She took the blood bag off him, wrapped it in another plastic bag, and tucked it back in her coat. “I’ll take this home with me tonight, along with the receipt. We can add it to the files tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Jesse slumped back against the wall, embarrassed that he’d let things slip so spectacularly out of his grasp.

  “This isn’t like you, Jesse,” she said, voice soft. “What happened?”

  “It was too easy.”

  “What was?”

  “Everything. The bar, Ian . . . All of it. I almost felt human again.”

  She closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, wrapping her arms around him. “Oh Jesse. It’s because of Callum, isn’t it?”

  He wanted to deny it, but this was Lys. “I think so.”

  They lapsed into silence, but Jesse knew they were thinking the same thing. She was just waiting for him to say it. When he didn’t . . . couldn’t, she let go of him and stepped back.

  “You can’t see him again. It won’t end well.”

  He covered his face, the scent of Ian lingering on his fingers. “I know.�
�

  “Better to stop it now, before you get anymore invested. You know how easy it is to get fixated.” She was only speaking the truth, but her words still pissed him off. Irrational or not.

  Swallowing back his temper, Jesse ran a hand through his hair. “I know. Tonight will be the last time.”

  She hesitated, then, “You could walk away now. End it via text—”

  “No.” Ending things with Ian was bad enough—even if it was the only thing to do—but the thought of doing it without having one last taste, touch . . . No. He wasn’t that strong. “I’m going back in there, and I’m going home with him later. Then I’ll end it.”

  “Jess—”

  “Lys. I’m beyond grateful that you came here tonight, but please . . . please let me do this my way.”

  She stared at him, eyes narrowed as though gauging whether he could be trusted to handle himself. It got under his skin, but he let her have her moment of scrutiny. “Fine. But for fuck’s sake, be more careful, and whatever you do, don’t bite him. Peter and his cronies don’t need any more ammunition that the old ways are the best ways. Having you get in trouble with the VLCD would be a fucking disaster.”

  “I’m not gonna bite him.” Even as he said it, that image returned, and it was all Jesse could do to ignore it. “Probably.”

  “Jesse!”

  “I’m kidding.” Mostly.

  “Well don’t.” Her head tilted, eyes unfocused for a second. “Lover boy’s coming.” She was gone before Jesse had a chance to reply, the sudden breeze the only indicator she’d even been there.

  “Jesse?” Ian shouted from the mouth of the alleyway. “That you?”

  Bollocks.

  Picking his way through the litter spilling out of the huge bins on either side, Jesse made his way towards him. “Yeah,” he shouted back.

  He caught Ian’s confused look. “What were you doing all the way down there?” He sounded wary, and Jesse hurried to reassure him.

  “For a minute there I thought I was gonna throw up.” He shrugged a shoulder and tried to look sheepish. “Didn’t really want an audience for it.”