by RK Close
We stand there panting and staring at one another. I touch my lips where they are still tingling. I’m shocked to see that his shirt is missing a couple of buttons, and hangs open to his navel, barely exposing smooth tight skin over hard muscle. Did I do that? Oh crap.
I know my face is flush, and not only from embarrassment. I can feel his surprise by the intensity of our contact. I feel better knowing we are both caught off guard by this erotic explosion in my kitchen.
This is why I can’t trust my own emotions with his and Adam’s blood in me. Gabe looks rather frazzled as well. I’m guessing he’s never shared his blood with anyone before. New territory for both of us.
I hope Adam can’t smell the pheromones when he gets back this evening.
Chapter 23
I open all the windows and burn several candles throughout the condo before Adam arrives for the night shift. Not that I’m trying to keep secrets—more like trying to avoid a confrontation that I don’t have time for.
Gabe and I kept our distance from one another for the rest of the day and barely spoke. I believe the kitchen situation left us both on edge with unspoken questions hanging in the air—questions that I don’t have time for either.
Adam arrived promptly at five-thirty. If he noticed or suspected my reasons for the open windows and candles, he didn’t say. Gabe couldn’t leave fast enough. He didn’t even say good-bye.
Adam arrives carrying a plain white garment bag and places it over a kitchen chair. He is his usual dark, moody self, but as soon as Gabe leaves he appears to relax a bit.
Adam sits down on the sofa and throws one well-muscled arm over the top. Tonight he’s wearing faded jeans and a cream-colored Henley shirt that hugs his body and leaves little to the imagination. I have to make a conscious effort not to ogle him.
Maybe I’m trying too hard. What would happen if I openly studied him whenever I felt like it? A little reverse psychology may turn the tables with him—giving me the upper hand.
Problem is, whenever I look at him I can’t help but remember that kiss, or other moments when we’ve been glued to one another for various reasons. And just like that I feel guilty, shy, and embarrassed all at once. Admittedly, sometimes he seems to flip a switch in me. He’s either pissing me off or turning me on. It’s always one extreme or the other with him. Never an easy middle ground.
It’s hard to imagine that in the course of a couple of weeks I’ve gone from being content, if not bored, with my life to…oh crap! My life went from zero to a hundred mph, and the brakes are out.
As I sit in the opposite chair with a novel and a cup of hot tea, I try out my new tactic of staring at Adam over the top of my book.
He seems mildly amused and I give up quickly. Staring at him will only get me into more trouble tonight, and I think I’ve had enough of that for one day.
My objective tonight will be to convince Adam to help me kill Zac. I know his personal goal is to kill him, but he can’t do that and protect me at the same time. But together with Gabe’s help we might stand a chance if we plan an offensive move instead of always playing defense.
Before I can bring up my list of reasons why he should help me, he says, “Would you be inclined to accompany me to the opera Friday evening?” I freeze mid-sip, and look at him with my eyebrows raised over my cup.
Did he ask me out on a date? I did not see that coming. I’m both thrilled and worried by the possibility.
I don’t know which feelings to trust and which to ignore. I have to say I’ve enjoyed the extra energy and strength, and the heightened senses, but the emotional aspect has been quite cumbersome.
I’ve come to terms with the realization that I trust Adam with my life. And there is no escaping the physical attraction we seem to share, but I know that neither of those things mean his feelings go any further than a booty-call. I won’t trade hot, steamy moments for my heart.
Once Zac is dead or gone, will Adam even be around? There are so many unknowns where he’s concerned.
“Are you asking me out on a date, because I want to make sure I’m understanding your intentions?” I ask, watching him closely. My stare never seems to make him nervous. If anything it only seems to encourage him to start pushing my buttons.
“If you need to put a label on it, you may call it a date. I thought you might like to do something…normal,” he says, looking at me with a challenge in his blue eyes.
I set my tea down and cross my arms when a wicked idea crosses my mind, and I can’t hide a little smile on my lips. I’m not the sort of woman who uses her feminine wiles to get what she wants, but I see a potential opportunity here, and decide to toss it out there anyway.
“If I go with you, will you help me kill Zac?” I give him my most seductive look. I have no idea if it conveys what I’m trying to, but I’m giving it the old college try.
Something must be working because his eyes have that soft glow about them. Either that or I made him angry again.
“Are you actually using sex to manipulate me into doing your bidding?” he asks, leaning forward and looking intrigued.
Oh crap! Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing. Damn it!
I need him to help me kill Zac or life as I know it is over. I won’t be able to protect the people in my life or myself if Zac lives. There is no other option.
“I never said anything about sex. Let’s take it down a few notches, shall we? I asked a simple question. Would you?”
I’m holding my own in this game of Russian roulette. I’m nervous as hell, but trying hard to keep my poker face on.
“Two can play at that game. And remember that you started the game in the first place. I’ll help you kill Zachariah if you allow me to escort you to the opera and ask me to bite you,” he says, pinning me with his stare.
He did not just go there! My poker face failed.
“What? No! I’m not going to let you tap a vein on me. Do you think I’m crazy?” I sputter with indignation.
“Yes, you sound crazy when you talk about fighting a five-hundred-year-old vampire. I believe we are done with this foolish conversation.” He picks up a book I hadn’t noticed and proceeds to start reading. I sit there fuming that he turned my game around on me.
Picking up my own novel, I shove my face in it so I don’t have to look at him. Unfortunately, I can’t concentrate on the words, and end up re-reading the same paragraph three times before tossing it on the coffee table.
Adam glances down at the one I dropped. His eyebrows rise as he looks from the book to me.
I glare at him. “What?” I say, still annoyed.
“Nothing,” he says, going back to his ancient-looking book and ignoring me, even though I’m sure he knows I’m still throwing daggers with my eyes.
I start to ponder his proposition. What would it mean if I let him bite me? If he’s serious, then we could start making a plan to end Zac. I toss the question out there in case this is a viable option.
“When you say “ask you to bite me,” does that mean I have to actually say the words, like “please bite me, Adam,” or do you mean let you bite me?” I ask, and my words hang there in the air like floating bricks.
Adam raises his eyes ever so slowly. He can’t hide his interest because his tell-tale eyes are glowing that brilliant blue. I can’t help but get a little thrill when this happens. It bugs me because I feel like my body has its own agenda where Adam is concerned.
“Yes, like that,” he says lowering his book and staring at me intently now. No more fun and games—now it gets serious.
“Can’t we agree to do it, and skip the conversation part?” I ask, looking around the condo at anything but him.
“No,” he says.
“And we are only talking about you biting me, not sex, correct?” I ask, raising my eyebrows in question.
“Only if you desire it.” His eyes are bright blue flames now, and I can feel a hot knot in the pit of my abdomen. His desire is a heady rush, so I try to bring the conversation back
to a practical level.
I have the fleeting image of Adam as a wild ferocious animal on a leash that’s ready to snap. Remembering what Gabe told me about Adam’s control over his bloodlust, I start to wonder if this is a bad idea.
“There’s no chance of you getting carried away during that whole process of biting me, is there?” I ask, feeling increasingly nervous.
“You will not be harmed, and I am confident you will enjoy it,” he says, watching me closely.
As usual, I get nervous when he becomes too intent on studying me. I feel like I’m deciding to do something dangerous on a dare. Every fiber in me screams caution, yet…Adam has never hurt me.
“Are there any other side effects I should know about?” I ask.
“None that should concern you,” he says, leaning forward.
I can almost see the wild animal just beneath the surface of his human mask. I can’t believe we are actually discussing him biting me.
“Hmmmmm.” What to do? “So are you saying that you will help me kill Zac in exchange for the date and a taste of my blood?” I say, heading for the kitchen to pour a glass of wine.
I’m not planning to get drunk again. This is simply a glass of wine sort of decision. After all, it’s not every day I agree to let a vampire bite me.
I turn around with glass and bottle in hand and practically walk into Adam. I squeak like a mouse and then glare at him. “I hate when you do shit like that! It’s just creepy,” I say, waiting for him to move out of my way.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, staring intently into my eyes.
He’s searching for something. Fear, maybe. I don’t fear Adam half as much as I fear myself when I’m around him.
Looking up at him defiantly, I say, “It’s a deal, but we have to convince Gabe to help, and we start working out details tonight.” I’m all business.
I’ll file the whole biting thing away until I have to deal with it. That’s my life lately. I keep compartmentalizing all these problems and issues so I can deal with them at a later time. It’s keeping me sane for now.
“Agreed,” he says, and then leans down to my ear. “You’ll enjoy it, Samantha,” he says in my ear, like a caress.
Shivers run the length of my body, and I almost drop the bottle. He gives me a hint of a smile, and almost—but not quite—moves out of my way. I’m forced to brush his body to get by him. This too makes my legs want to buckle. I return to my seat and pour a healthy dose of wine before taking a long, deep, cleansing breath.
What did I agree to?
“You are not to tell Gabe about our agreement, understood? I don’t care if he knows we’re going out on Friday,” I say.
“Are you afraid to tell your Hunter? Are you concerned he’ll reject you if you do this?” he asks with a hint of bitterness, maybe jealousy.
“Gabe is not my Hunter, and he has no claim to me. And neither do you. One date, and one bite does not mean you have any bragging rights, either. Your blood in my veins does not make me yours in any way. I don’t care what that means in vampire. Are we clear on all of that?” I ask, holding my wine and crossing my legs.
“Crystal. Now I have some rules of my own. First, I must approve any plan to destroy Zac, as you like to call him. Secondly, you will follow the plan that we devise without deviation. Are we clear on all of that?” he asks before walking to the table.
“Crystal,” I say, rolling my eyes at him.
Chapter 24
Adam picks up the garment bag he arrived with. “I have something for you.”
He walks over and holds out the bag for me. I’m totally confused, but stand to take it from him.
“What is this?” I ask, not knowing what to do with the bag.
“A dress for the opera.” He returns to the sofa, making himself comfortable.
“You bought me a dress? Why?” I ask, dumbfounded.
But the little girl in me is dying to see what it looks like. I don’t remember the last time someone, especially a man, bought me a gift. Part of me wants to cry, and the other part doesn’t know what to think about this.
“I didn’t see an appropriate gown in your closet. Why don’t you try it on? See if you like it. You can exchange it if you don’t,” he says matter-of-factly, but there is that challenge in his eyes again.
I look at him blankly, and then for reasons I may never understand, turn and walk into my room to try on the dress.
***
The dress is a beautiful strapless satin dream. It fits me like another skin, and accents my curves perfectly. The bodice is tight, and fitted down to the swell of my hips where multiple gathers cascade down to the ground in soft waves. The dress is exquisite, and I look fabulous wearing it. I’ve never seen a more stunning gown. There is no price tag to be found but it must have cost a small fortune. Pushing that thought aside, I pile my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, and add some black strappy heels before walking back into the living room.
Adam actually stands as I enter the room. The look on his face is unguarded and raw. He stares at me with what looks like wonder in his eyes. He recovers quickly as his serious mask falls back in place, but I saw what he is now hiding. I’m suddenly reminded of the gentle look between he and Katherine from my dream.
That was the type of look he gave me.
I turn in a circle, unable to hide my pleasure. “Well, how do I look?” I ask, grinning.
If I could forget about agreeing to let him bite me, I could get excited about the opera.
He continues to stare at me, now with an unreadable look on his face.
“Beautiful, and fragile,” he says softly.
I look at him for a moment, then walk over and turn my back to him, asking, “Can you start the zipper? I barely got it up on my own. Way too much flexibility required for me to try that again in one night,” I say, holding a few loose strands of my hair up and out of his way.
There is no response at first, but then after a moment I feel his hand on the zipper. He brings it down slowly, and I can feel his warm breath on my neck. I stifle a shiver, and turn to look at him. He’s closer than I expected. I look up into his face and see desire so raw that my breath catches. I back up quickly, not wanting to be in this position with my dress ready to drop off if I wasn’t holding it up.
I turn and hurry into my room, shutting the door.
***
I call Russell and invite him over for Thanksgiving this Thursday. He happily agrees to come. I let him know I might have a few other friends over, and he says, “the more the merrier.” If he only knew.
Next, I call Dayna and ask if she has plans for Thanksgiving.
“Not really. Do you mind if I bring Jacob? We’ve been spending a lot of time together. I like him, Sam. He’s incredibly sexy, sweet, and he thinks I’m funny, intelligent, and beautiful,” she gushes.
I can tell she’s smitten, and I start to worry about her getting hurt when this blows over and Jacob leaves. He should have kept his distance and watched her from afar.
“You know; Adam tells me Jacob moves around a lot. How are you going to feel when he has to leave? Have you both discussed that?” I ask cautiously, trying not to sound like too much of downer.
“We have, and he says he has no plans to leave anytime soon. I know it’s unsure, and kind of wild and crazy, but I feel like there’s something here, you know? I want to see where it goes. Do you think I’m being foolish?” she asks, sounding hesitant.
Who am I to rain on her parade? She’s a big girl, and she sounds so happy. I never heard her this happy with Robert. They’ve always…been together. I assumed that it was a good match, but they have always had issues come up that put them on the outs or on hold, so obviously they weren’t a good match and she’s only now realizing that she deserves to be happy.
“No, you’re smart, beautiful, and the funniest person I know. You deserve to be happy. Just make sure you keep the communication going so that you’re both on the same page, okay?” I ask
, sounding more like a therapist than her best friend.
“I will. He’s unbelievably easy to talk to. So, it’s okay to bring him?”
“Of course. Want to bring some bread?” I ask.
“You got it. Anything else that I can help with?”
“No, just bring you and Jacob. I’ll see you Thursday,” I say.
I hear her say good-bye as I hang up. Now to ask Adam if he will join us. I’ll feel bad if we all get together and he’s absent.
I walk back into the living room and find Adam is standing on the patio looking out over the city lights. Sounds of light traffic drift on the air but it’s a quiet evening. I stand at the patio doors and he looks back at me.
“Would you like to join Dayna, Jacob, and myself for Thanksgiving this Thursday? I don’t have any food that I’m willing to give you, but it could be fun, and you know Jacob,” I say.
“I would enjoy that. I don’t remember ever celebrating Thanksgiving before. This will be a first,” he says.
I look at him like he’s sprouted another head, but then I remember that he isn’t an American native. Also, the holiday is centered on food that he doesn’t eat. Makes sense now that I put it in perspective.
I’m starting to look forward to having new and old friends over for a holiday.
Now, back to planning a murder.
“Are we ready to start our planning?” I ask, rubbing my hands together.
“You are a strange creature, Samantha. Yes, by all means, lead the way to the war council.” He motions for me to move into the dining area.
I sit at the table, where I lay out a tablet and a couple of pens. Picking one up, I get ready to start writing notes if the need arises. Adam stands at the bar to the kitchen and leans his elbow on the counter watching me.
“So, like I said, I think we can use me as the bait. That’s the most obvious way to draw Zac out. Do you think you and Gabe working together can bring him down? Is that feasible?” I ask, getting right to it.
