She didn’t think he would answer her, but finally he murmured, “Dillon just came on board about six months ago. He’s a local.”
“A vampire?”
“Now.”
She wanted to ask what that meant, but the dangerous gleam in his gaze warned her off. “What about Jake?”
“We’ve been friends since the eighteen hundreds.”
Which meant he was a vampire, as well.
She wondered if Garret had turned him or if they’d merely banded together as a means of survival. She opened her mouth to ask, but she didn’t get the chance.
“I’ve really got a lot of work to do.” His expression closed. “The others will be in later if you have any questions for them. There are several choppers in the holding room.” He pointed to a nearby door. “That’s where we keep the finished bikes that are waiting to be shipped out. Feel free to set up in there and take as many pictures as you need.”
Before she could protest, he pulled on a welding mask, fired up his unit and went to work on the strips of metal sitting on the opposite table.
So much for small talk.
9
VIV SPENT THE NEXT half hour snapping pictures of the various choppers in the holding room. She made sure to leave the door open so she could get in the occasional sultry smile if Garret should happen to glance her way.
He didn’t.
No hungry glances. No I-want-you-but-I-don’t-want-to-want-you smiles. No I’m-a-sex-starved-vampire-and-I-can’t-control-myself stares.
Nada.
“It’s not working,” she told Winona a few minutes later when she retreated into the ladies room and pulled out her cell phone.
“Who is this?” asked a groggy voice.
“Viv. Viv Darland. The reporter staying at the motel. I sat in on your class tonight.” Winona mumbled a groggy “Oh, yeah,” and Viv rushed on, “I’m sorry to call so late, but I didn’t know what else to do. You said you were available for dating emergencies.”
Bedsprings groaned in the background, followed by a faint click as a light switched on. “Are you on a date?” Winona went from groggy to excited in a nanosecond.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I’m here and he’s here and we’re alone, so I guess that qualifies.”
“I’m in bed with my cat, Pumpkin, but that doesn’t make him my significant other. Scoot, Pumpkin,” the woman ordered. “Can’t you see I’m working?” Sheets rustled, and a frantic meow echoed in the distance. “Does this man even know you like him?” Winona’s attention shifted back to Viv.
She thought of Garret’s knowing expression when he’d first walked in on her. The glimmer in his eyes. The sexy murmur of his voice. “Maybe. I’m not really sure.”
“Does he like you?”
“I’m not sure about that either. I followed the commandments, but they don’t seem to be working. He’s ignoring me.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to come off like he’s ignoring you.”
“You really think so?”
“That depends. What’s he doing right now?”
“Welding.”
“All right, so he’s ignoring you. But that doesn’t mean the commandments aren’t working,” Winona rushed on as if sensing Viv’s disappointment. “It just means you haven’t been using them long enough. Just hang in there, and stick to what I taught you. He’ll come around eventually.”
“The eventually is what I’m afraid of. I don’t exactly have a lot of time.”
“I know. Eldin told me that as soon as you’re finished with your article, you’re moving on. The life of a reporter ain’t really conducive to a relationship, is it?”
“No, ma’am.” Which was exactly why Viv had chosen it. It kept her moving. Running.
Not anymore.
She swallowed back the sudden lump in her throat. “I would really appreciate any advice you could give me to speed things along.”
“Let’s see…” Winona seemed to think. “You might try dropping a few knick-knacks. That always worked with my dear, departed husband.”
“Knick-knacks?”
“You know, anything. Everything. The point is to give him an eyeful when you go to pick up whatever it is you dropped. Either it’s an eyeful of cleavage or your badonk-a-donk. Why, I was bent over cleaning dust bunnies out from under the fridge when my oldest daughter was conceived. Can’t get a better success rate than that.”
“Thanks.”
“Thank you. I charge extra for on-call. I’ll drop a bill by your motel room first thing tomorrow morning.” A loud click punctuated the statement.
Viv dropped her cell back into her purse, splashed some cold water onto her face and summoned her courage. She walked back into the large room where she’d set up her equipment and slid a glance toward the open doorway that led to the fabrication shop.
Garret wore heat-resistant gloves that went clear to his elbows. A welding mask hid his face as he torched the edge of a metal strip before hammering it down.
Torch. Hammer. Torch. Hammer.
She fought down a wave of self-consciousness and reached for a roll of film. After plucking the package from her equipment bag, she half-turned. Her fingers went limp, and the roll hit the concrete with a soft thud.
“Oh, no. Clumsy me,” she said, her voice a few decibals louder than normal. She gathered her determination, bent at the waist and did a slow motion retrieval that would have perpetuated the Adkins gene pool for the next fifty years.
Just as her fingers closed around the film, she stalled for a few seconds to give Garret an eyeful.
He didn’t spare her a glance.
Instead, he bent over the metal, his attention fully focused on his task.
Torch. Hammer. Torch. Hammer.
Her gaze snagged on one bicep and the familiar slave band tattoo that peeked beneath the edge. The sight reminded her of her own markings, and guilt spiraled through her followed by a wave of self-doubt.
Maybe he was really and truly no longer attracted to her. Despite the hunger that lived and breathed inside of him.
Because of it.
Because he could satisfy his need with any woman. Every woman. He didn’t need her. Not emotionally or physically. He never had. He’d just been mesmerized.
Her chest tightened at the thought.
Not that it mattered.
All that really mattered was that she needed him.
While he could get what he craved from any female, she could only get what she so desperately wanted—a bona fide orgasm—from one male.
Him.
If she really wanted to orgasm with an actual partner, she couldn’t let herself get discouraged.
She wiggled just a little to emphasize her breasts before she straightened and put the film back into her bag. Her hand brushed the lens cap sitting on the table, and it tumbled over the edge.
“Whoops,” she said again. Louder this time. “I swear I’m all thumbs tonight.”
If at first you don’t succeed…
IF SHE DROPPED ONE more thing—anything—he was going to stake himself with the nearest sharp object.
That is, if he didn’t burst into a ball of flames first.
He hit the Off switch on the welder, and the blue flame died. But it did nothing to ease the fire that burned inside of him.
He was too worked up.
Too turned on.
Too damned intent on retaining his control and keeping the hunger contained.
Lust pushed and pulled inside of him. His nerves buzzed. Electricity sizzled across his skin, and he grew hotter by the second.
He tugged off his T-shirt, but the rush of air against his bare skin did little to help. He reached for a plain sheet of metal. The cool material heated instantly beneath the hot pads of his fingertips. The air seemed to shimmer with the heat radiating from his body.
As if confirming his worst fear, the temperature-sensitive fans near the computer table kicked on with a click and whoosh. They revved, cranking up to full blast
to cool down the rapidly warming equipment.
He heard the glub, glub, glub of bubbles. The sharp scent of boiling gasoline spiraled from the half-full gallon-sized container sitting near the doorway.
And all because of her.
Because he wanted her, and he couldn’t—wouldn’t act on it.
Don’t look.
That’s what he told himself.
But damned if his eyes would cooperate.
When she leaned over just the way she was doing right now, her backside to him, he couldn’t not look.
He caught a glimpse of the dewy pink flesh between her legs. The tender insides of her thighs. The tiny beauty mark that dotted her left ass cheek.
His groin throbbed, and his gut clenched. He felt the sharp graze of his fangs against his tongue. The heat sizzling his fingertips—
Damn it.
His gaze dropped to the smoke spiraling from his grip on the piece of metal. He dropped the material and stared through the shimmering air at his seared black skin.
“Just call me klutz.” Her voice slid into his ears and snagged his attention.
He glanced up in time to see the bright blue of her eyes and the fullness of her lips just before she bent forward—facing him this time—to retrieve her lens cap. Her blouse ballooned, and her breasts quivered. He glimpsed one ripe nipple as she shifted and reached.
Every muscle in his body went tight. He balled his fingers against a wave of white-hot need that drenched him. His vision blurred, and his ears started to ring.
Through a haze he saw her straighten. She tugged at the collar of her blouse, as if she felt the heat as much as he did. Her gaze collided with his. Desire brightened her eyes, along with a glimmer of desperation that reached across the distance separating them and sucker-punched him right in the gut.
She made a big show of dropping another roll of film, and Garret reached his limit.
He was halfway across the room, his fangs extended, his heart pounding, his hunger raging, when the gas can exploded.
10
THE NEXT FEW MOMENTS seemed to go in slow motion as the fire blazed from the container’s spout, shot up the wall and ate up the door frame.
Viv’s expression went from startled to scared as she inched backwards, away from the bright orange waves that now separated them.
The fire alarm sounded, and the overhead sprinklers kicked on.
The cold water hit him, and everything seemed to speed up then. He grabbed a nearby fire extinguisher and rushed forward. White foam spewed, drenching the flames until the last lick of orange fizzled. In a matter of seconds, the wall went from a fiery blaze to a smoldering black mess.
Garret chucked the extinguisher and crossed the threshold. He reached for Viv. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. Fear brightened her eyes, and his chest tightened. He swept his gaze from her head to her toes and back up again. She was soaked from the sprinklers and still a little freaked out from the sudden fire, but otherwise she looked okay.
His gaze collided with hers, and the strange glimmer seemed to fade into the blue depths. Her eyes glittered, the color shifting, morphing, into a brilliant blaze of purple.
And suddenly she looked more hungry than afraid.
Time seemed to stand still for the next few moments as they stood there staring at each other. The sprinkler rained down on them, cooling off the temperature in the room. But it didn’t begin to touch the heat that churned inside of him.
His body tightened and his vision blurred, and he knew his eyes gleamed just as hot, as bright, as wild as hers.
The air sizzled, and steam rose. The water chugged and splattered for several more seconds until the automatic shut-off finally kicked in.
“What just happened?” Her voice, soft and breathless, barely pushed past the frantic beat of his heart.
He licked his lips and gathered his control. “The, um, air conditioner has been acting up.” Like hell. But it was the best he could come up with and a damned sight better than the truth—that he wanted to kiss her.
He wouldn’t.
No matter how much he suddenly wanted to.
“I guess it finally blew,” he added.
His hearing perked and through the sound of dripping water he could hear the steady drone of the central cooling unit.
Judging from the “yeah, right” look on her face, so could she.
“Temporarily,” he rushed on. “It must be one of those things that comes and goes. You know, one minute the problem is here, the next it clears itself up.”
“Probably.” That’s what she said, but he could see the doubt in her gaze. He could also see a hell of a lot more thanks to the sprinklers.
Her clothes were soaked. Her silky red shirt plastered to her breasts and outlined her hard, ripe nipples. Water ran in tiny rivulets down her face, her smooth, curved neck, to disappear in the deep V between her luscious breasts. She was soaked, her skin slick and gleaming, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was just as wet between her legs.
He could easily find out. All he had to do was reach out. Hitch up her skirt. Trail his palms over her soft, smooth ass. Plunge his hand between her silky thighs. Dip his fingers into the hot, sweltering folds. Stroke her swollen, throbbing clit.
As if she read the decadent thoughts wreaking havoc on his control, her nostrils flared and her chest hitched. Urgency gleamed in her gaze, and he knew she wanted him to touch her and find out.
If only. But she didn’t want him. He could have been any man. He was nothing but a meal ticket to her.
Nothing.
That’s what he told himself, but he didn’t quite believe it. Not with the two of them standing so close, the air so steamy and hot as they gazed at each other, into each other. While he couldn’t read her the way he did a human, he could see the uncertainty in the way she caught her bottom lip and gripped her hands together.
The sight chipped away at his control because Viv Darland didn’t feel such things. She was a vampire, for Christ’s sake.
Commanding. Determined. Self-assured.
She looked anything but at the moment, and it tied his damned self-control into knots.
That, and he couldn’t forget the fear in her eyes. The real, raw fear caused by the fire.
“You should really get that fixed,” she told him, as if eager to ease the tension that crackled around them. “The air conditioner, I mean. I would imagine it gets pretty hot in here what with all the equipment.”
“Yep, it’s definitely an equipment problem.”
Her gaze slid past him to the welding unit, the sheet cutter, the shaper. “What with all the stuff in here, the place could go up in flames if you’re not careful.” She glanced at the ceiling. “But then I guess that’s what the sprinklers are for.”
“Yes.” His gaze dropped to her nipples pressing provocatively against the drenched fabric before shifting back to her face, and suddenly he couldn’t help himself.
He reached out.
His fingertip circled one hard tip outlined beneath the wet fabric of her shirt. She hissed and went perfectly still.
“There’s nothing like a good sprinkler system to calm things down,” he murmured. A few more strokes, and she clamped down on her bottom lip. “Or liven things up.”
“I…” She seemed to be fighting hard for her own control. As hard as he’d fought just a few moments ago. But the battle was futile. The pull between them was too fierce. Too compelling. And suddenly it was all he could think of.
His gaze collided with hers. “You look good wet,” he murmured, and then he pulled her into his arms.
GARRET SAWYER had lived and breathed in Viv’s memory for so long. The feel of his hard, hot body pressed against hers, his arms locked tight, his lips eating at hers. But the memories were nothing compared to the real thing.
Electricity skimmed her skin and heat firebombed the pit of her stomach as he drew her close.
Closer.
H
is hands spanned her waist, slid over her ass and cupped the round fullness. He pulled her flush against him and lifted her. Her legs came around him, and he hoisted her, sliding her up the hard ridge of his erection until he was eye-level with her chest. His tongue flicked out, and she barely caught the moan that worked its way up her throat.
Heat licked the tip of her nipple, and a burst of pleasure zapped her brain. She bowed toward him.
He touched her with his tongue again and licked her longer, more leisurely, savoring the ripeness of her. She gasped and clung to him.
His lips closed over her nipple. The wet material of her shirt provided little protection against the searing inferno of his mouth. Heat surrounded her areola as he drew on her, sucking long and hard.
She threaded her fingers through his hair, tilted her head back and gave herself up to sensation.
The pressure of his mouth increased. His tongue stroked. His lips suckled. Each pull on her nipple sent an echoing tug between her legs. She clutched at his bare shoulders, desperate to relieve the pressure building inside of her.
It was coming. She could feel it.
His hands held her steady, scorching her as he nestled her crotch against the ripped hardness of his abdomen.
Then he moved her, a frantic brush of her sex up and down the muscled ridges, and the pressure neared maximum intensity. She was so close.
Too close.
As wonderful as it was, it wasn’t what she wanted.
She wanted him inside of her when she went over the edge. She needed it.
Stop!
The command echoed through her head, and her fingers tightened in his hair. But instead of pushing him away, she couldn’t help herself. She pulled him closer and rubbed herself against him and…there. And there. And, oh, yes, there.
She felt the waistband of his jeans rasp her slit, the metal of his button a cold shock against her ultra-sensitive clitoris, and a lightning bolt went through her. Her nerves tingled, and the sharp edge of her fangs pressed against her tongue.
Desperation rushed through her, and she lifted herself for another slide and shimmy. He stopped her cold, his arms tightening in a grip that rendered her immobile.
Love at First Bite Bundle Page 46
