“No, now you get to hear me talk. I want you, and I get to keep what I want. I’m going to bring Claude Phelans to justice, and then I’m taking you with me. Do you understand me?” Her mouth opened but no sound came out.
His frustration boiling, he rolled his neck and asked again. “I said do you understand me?”
Christine never had a problem with words yet in that moment, they failed her. He stood, waiting for her answer, the tic over his right eye growing more and more agitated.
“But you’re a vampire.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Yes, we’ve established that,” he said slowly.
“But I need to mate with an Alpha. You’ll never be one.” He closed his eyes as if trying for patience. “No, I won’t. I’m better, stronger, wealthier, and I want you. That’s all you need to know.”
Tired of him towering over her, she stood too and glared back at him. “I have a duty to honor my mother and father’s wishes. I’m not going to ignore that for my own selfish reasons.
No matter—” she caught herself before she made the slip.
“No matter what, Christine? No matter what you want?” His point hit too close to home. Christine took a step back then another, when he followed she turned and ran for the door. He caught her before she’d taken three steps.
“No fair, you’re faster,” she said as he turned her to face him.
“We’re finishing this discussion now, Christine.”
But I don’t want to, is what she wanted to say. The topic was too sensitive, too close to home.
“Listen, I’m not changing my mind no matter what. I may not like what my mother wants me to do, but I’m going to do it. She deserves that much.”
“God dammit, Christine. I’m not asking you to mate with me—”
“No, you just want to keep fucking me.” Her crude words surprised them both, and the vehemence with which she said it took them both by surprise.
“This isn’t about your damn...body, Christine. You’re a puzzling woman whom I want to be around.”
Anger surged inside her, white-hot and quick. She embraced it because she understood it.
The anger was easier to accept.
“So let me guess, after you get the ‘puzzle’ figured out you can drop me off to the side like you did with Vera. Oh, wait, no, that was because she told you she loved you.” He stiffened like a board, his face turning into a dark mask. For some reason his response only riled her anger even more.
“So what happens then? What happens if I go with you against my mother’s wishes, and against what is right for me, and then I fall in love with you? Do I keep my mouth shut else you’ll dump me like yesterday’s paper?”
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “It isn’t like that.” She laughed, the sound hollow. “I’ve heard about you and Vera. I know how that went down, and now you want to do it with me. How am I supposed to look you in the eye and not say I love you every time I look at you? How can I ignore that? You know enough about me to know that I don’t hold my words for anybody. I’ll say it. I’ll say it until you maybe even start to feel a little something back.”
Her little speech came to a careening stop when he spoke. “You think you could love me?” he asked in a soft voice. He looked at her strangely, an odd light to his eyes.
A blush crept over her cheeks and she struggled to keep from looking away from his piercing eyes. “I...I, no. Of course not. Besides, what would it matter to you?” He looked away, the piercing connection broken. “Indeed.”
“Listen, I’ve got to go.” She reached behind her for the door handle, curling her fingers around it.
She paused before opening the door as if waiting for something. She was met with silence. She rushed out the door without a word.
Chapter 17
Christine ripped the carrots from the ground like a madwoman tearing out her own hair.
The leaves broke in her hands and the bundle of carrots only came out part way. She growled and grabbed hold of the vegetables one last time before giving a vicious yank. The soil gave way and the carrots burst forth, spewing clumps of soil on her face and clothes.
Christine sat back, panting, and spit a clump of dirt off her lips. Normally with a bright warm day like this she’d love to sit outside and enjoy the sun, but she was in no mood. Not today, not since her fight with Dmetri. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why he’d gotten to her so badly. A fling while he stayed here was one thing, but going to live with him?
Impossible.
Why did the man have to be so...frustrating? She marched down to the row of herbs and began yanking on basil leaves.
“Stupid vampire,” she muttered.
She no longer knew what she was more angry at: that he wouldn’t budge on the matter or that she actually liked the idea of going with him. She had so much fun with him, well, when they weren’t being attacked. She loved how uncomfortable he got when she laughed at him or did something he thought was unexpected. He lived such a controlled life, and she got a huge kick out of knocking down his tough exterior.
“One kick at a time,” she muttered
Plus, he just made her feel good. She stood with her bundle of vegetables and came face to face with her problem.
“Damn, how long have you been creeping on me?”
Today Dmetri wore...casual clothes. She’d never seen him in anything other than a suit.
Even when he’d been helping to clean the bombed houses he’d done it in loafers and a suit.
Today he wore a pair of khakis and a neat button-down shirt. It still looked more expensive than anything she owned, but it was an improvement. And damn if he didn’t look great in it.
“I don’t creep. As I said before, I can’t help it if you can’t hear me.” She glared at him. “Now’s not the time to piss me off, Dmetri.” Genuine surprise flitted over his features. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off. I just wanted to see you.”
“Oh,” she said softly. How did he do that? With a simple word he sent butterflies scurrying in her belly and her heart racing like a bunch of galloping horses.
He reached towards her and she froze, breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a week and now being this close to him made her feel like she was back on that first date again. He rubbed his fingers across her cheek, brushing off some soil she’d missed.
He took a breath so deep she heard him release it. His eyes met hers and they locked together. “I think that I missed you.” His lips pulled into a frown as if he wasn’t happy with the thought.
Hearing his honesty, no matter how much he didn’t seem to like the idea fueled her desire. “I did too.” The tension around his mouth eased, and the fingers on her cheek cupped her with his cool hand.
He straightened just as quickly as he’d done it, breaking the connection. “Come, walk with me.” He didn’t wait to see if she’d follow.
Rolling her eyes, Christine caught up to him. “Where are we going?”
“To the forest.”
“What for?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he looked down at her, his eyes wild and dark. “You shouldn’t wear clothes like that.”
Taken aback, Christine looked down at herself. She wore her ‘gardening shorts’ that had long started to fray at the bottom, no shoes, and a baggy shirt.
“Why, because I’m dirty?”
She heard him make a sound that almost resembled a laugh. “No, because I can’t think when you wear that.”
They entered the canopy of trees and instantly the bright sky darkened through the blanket of leaves and branches.
Feeling saucy, she stopped and cocked her hip out to the side. “Dmetri, can’t handle a little pair of shorts?”
He stopped, his eyes leveling on her hips, her legs, and then her mouth. Her mouth watered in response to the heat in his eyes. He took a step, then another step until he was pressed against her from chest to thighs. Her chest rose and fell like waves cr
ashing on the shore. She embraced the feelings he brought forth and curled her hands in his shirt.
“It’s not the shorts, millaya moya. It’s all the skin it reveals.” His hands swept down to cup her bottom and pull her tightly against him.
“Oh.”
His lips swooped down and her breath caught. “You tease me.” She laughed unsteadily, her eyes on his, their lips a breath away. “I haven’t teased you yet.”
Slowly, he shook his head. “When you come home with me, I’ll buy you wardrobes of little shorts. You’ll wear nothing but them and your bare feet for me.” He pulled back to look down her legs. Her toes threatened to curl into the patch of grass she stood on.
“But I thought you preferred dresses, lingerie, and all that fancy stuff.” His eyes brightened and then she heard it—his laughter. The sound was rich, accented, husky. It sent chills down her spine.
“I used to...until I saw those damn shorts on you.” He leaned down to touch her thigh and slowly rub his hand up until his fingers met the frayed fringe. When his fingers began to play underneath the material her body tightened, liquid heat pooling between her legs.
“Dmetri...”
“I want you.” His gruff voice made her breasts feel tight, heavy, and only he could alleviate the ache.
In a move so fast her head spun, he turned her around and pushed her into the nearest tree. She braced her hands on the hard trunk even as her eyes searched the area around them.
“Not here! There are sentries everywhere, Dmetri!”
Either he didn’t hear her or he didn’t care because his hands reached around to cup her breasts through the baggy shirt. He didn’t waste any time before rolling her nipples between his fingers and squeezing the soft flesh. She bit her lip hard to keep from making a sound, but her heavy breaths sounded incredibly loud in the quiet forest.
His hands squeezed her breasts, plumping them, and then trailed down her stomach and under her shirt. His hands were cool yet his touch burned. When he reached for the button of her shorts, she stilled.
“No, we can’t.”
“I’ll hear anyone who nears...and kill them,” he said hoarsely. He opened the button and pulled down the zipper. When his fingers delved inside, it took everything in her not to cry out.
His expert fingers passed under her defenseless panties and darted through her wet folds.
Hot and soft, her cream coated his fingers as he pet her not with aggression but with a surprisingly gentle touch. He spread her lips open then circled her aching bud. Coiling, boiling heat built inside her in a rush. Christine clamped her lips shut to keep from making a sound and dug her nails into the tree bark to try to gain some purchase.
Her hips rocked against his fingers, eager to ride the swift orgasm about to rush over her.
He hadn’t touched her in a week, and now she realized how deprived she felt.
Breaths grew choppy, eyes fluttered closed, and Christine let her head fall back as her body readied to burst at the seams. And then he pulled his hand away.
“What are you—”
She never finished asking the question because her jeans and panties went floating to the ground around her ankles. She heard the whoosh of more clothes dropping and knew it wasn’t hers. His hands were all over her, running over her bare hips to arch her back towards him, trailing up her bare stomach to mold her breasts in his big hands. His touch possessed her, controlled her—and she loved it.
His lips pushed the hair away from her neck and then his lips were there, kissing and licking. She had only a second to prepare herself as his hard, burning hot cock pressed against her wet core. She shook from her ankles to her knees with the intense arousal burning inside her, with the orgasm he left teetering in her body.
The hands on her breasts grabbed hold, his cock nudged her entrance, pushed the barest of inches inside, and then he thrust deep. Full and hot, he stretched her wide and filled her to the brink. She was so wet he slid in gracefully and when he began to move, she felt for the first time, the savagery inside him.
His hips pumped hard and fast, the breaths at her neck growing heavy and labored. She had no clue whether it was her body that was so tight or if he was that thick, but her muscles grabbed hold of him like they didn’t want to let him go. He thrust faster, hips slapping against her bare cheeks.
She rocked forward on her toes and his hands moved to capture her hips, holding her in his possessive grasp.
“Dmetri,” she moaned.
His hands tightened in reflex and then he growled. “So perfect.” She agreed but couldn’t voice the words, so instead she bent over further, offering herself freely to him, trusting him at his word that no one would catch them. The loud slapping sounds made her blush, and at the new angle the pleasure was even sharper. No longer could she hold back her cries. She tried to stay quiet, to keep her panting moans low, but to her own ears she only sounded like she was yelling.
His hand delved between her thighs to circle her swollen bud once again. The pleasure was acute and instantaneous. His cock slid in, pounding her into oblivion, and she flew apart in a beautiful explosion of fiery pleasure and brilliant light. Liquid fire exploded inside her. Her core gushed with release, trembling around his cock. He groaned like he was dying before he thrust deep one last time and jetted long and hard inside of her. The wet mess spilled out from around him, touching her thighs.
Neither of them could move for long minutes. Eventually they pulled apart, righting their clothes, giving each other kisses every other second as if they were unable to stay apart. When they finished, she went into his arms and he held her.
He felt so good, so right. It was almost perfect. Almost. If only a few things were different he could be her mate, could be hers forever. The thought made her heart pound even as it made her sad.
His arms wrapped around her as he kissed her again. A long, sweet kiss that made her heart melt and her knees tremble. When he pulled away, he looked at her with the same odd look in his eyes that she’d seen before. She just wished she knew what it meant.
“You’re my woman now, Christine. No matter what you say that won’t change.” Words failed her. All she could do was swallow hard over the lump in her throat and follow him back towards the garden, hand-in-hand.
Chapter 18
Christine finished washing the soil out of her hair and shut off the shower. She sprinted across the cold tile floor and into the bedroom.
“What to wear, what to wear.” She threw open her closet, searching through her abundance of shirts and shorts for the right items. At the back of the closet, she spotted a dark blue-jean skirt. “Aha!” she said and snatched it. Picking out a white, v-cut satin shirt to go with the skirt, she threw that on the bed then began scooping up the clothes on her floor.
Dmetri said he was coming over tonight. Nerves still fluttered through her at the thought.
Something must be wrong with her. How could he make her so anxious when she’d just been with him?
But this just felt different. She wasn’t going to the guest cabin, and they weren’t going out. He was coming to her home. He’d see her things, including the mess of clothes on her bedroom floor.
What would he think if he knew she was part-slob? It still baffled her that he was so interested in her, but she didn’t doubt his sincerity. She was smart enough to know when a man was into her, and Dmetri was waist-deep. Ah, her ego soared in her chest until she grinned foolishly while tossing the clothes littering her floor into the closet.
“Good as new.”
She went around the house inspecting it for anything out of place, and then grimaced when most of it was. The pillows on the couch were either sideways or on the floor, dishes were in the sink, and her kitchen table looked as if every bill she’d ever owned was on it.
“Time to get to work.”
She rarely let anyone sway her own habits on anything, well, okay, maybe her mother, but there was no way she was going to let Dmetri see her place like this. She
made quick work of the mess and finished the chores in under an hour. That left her just thirty minutes until he’d arrive.
Christine parted the curtain at the front window and peered outside. The night sky settled in blanketing the horizon in dark shadows. Against her better judgment, she looked down the street to her mother’s house. The lights were on and she knew right about now her mother would be settling in her for evening tea and a book. Dostoyevsky, Aristotle, or something equally intelligent but boring. Christine grunted. She’d spent most of her childhood listening to her mother critique famous dead authors on how their books could be better; and of course, she wanted her to read them, too. Christine preferred her books action-packed and mysterious, not hundreds of years old. But they were great sleep aids.
She shoved the curtain closed and whirled away from the window. That was enough of that. She changed into the outfit she’d picked out, but debated over wearing a bra. Then she remembered how much he’d liked it in the woods earlier when she wasn’t wearing one.
“Whoops!” she said and chucked the bra to the corner of the room. Next, she eyeballed her black panties. She’d picked them because she thought he’d like them. After all, they reminded her of him. Slick, black, and expensive...okay, expensive looking. A grin curled over her mouth as she chucked them to the corner of the room.
She pulled the skirt on and simply stood there feeling the denim against her bare butt. It felt strange, naughty...but good. She wouldn’t prefer it for every-day wear but for a night with Dmetri, oh yeah. She tugged her shirt over her free breasts and checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror. When all angles looked good, she went into the living room and stopped to wait.
The clock on the wall beckoned her until she was staring at it while gnawing on her lip like a piece of meat. She wrung her hands together, and when the knock finally came, she jumped.
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