Jack’s obnoxious voice interrupted his musings. “You call that a kiss? Come on, really lay one on her.”
Nice. Especially since Jack knew who Sasha really was.
“Do not do it,” Sasha said in a low voice, her eyes flashing.
“Never even crossed my mind,” he told her, which was true. He knew enough about her to know that attempting a make-out session with her because of drunken vampire peer pressure was a huge mistake.
He knew that.
If he was going to plant a serious one on her it was going to be in private where she would be more relaxed, and hopefully receptive. Not in front of a half dozen drunk vampires.
What he didn’t anticipate was that she would lean forward and kiss him in front of a half dozen drunk vampires.
But she did, reaching out and sliding her hand across the back of his hair, her lush lips covering his in a sexy, aggressive kiss. Alistair was so shocked, it took him a full five seconds to get on board with it. Then he kissed her back, knowing somewhere in the back of his brain that this was odd and maybe he should question why she was suddenly the aggressor when she had never trusted him nor particularly liked him. Then he decided her motive was less important than her actions, and he was definitely enjoying that. The kiss was raw compared to the one the night before—less skill and more exuberance.
Alistair gripped her waist tighter, shifting her on his lap so that she was closer, her shoulder pressed into his chest, her breast barely brushing him, her ass coming perilously close to his erection. It was a hot, open-mouthed kiss that had him fighting for control, resisting the urge to grab her and grind and bite the curve of her shoulder just below his mouth. But this was hers, she had started it, and she needed to direct it.
After a nice, long, erection-inducing minute, she broke the kiss off and pulled back.
They stared at each other, breathing hard, as a round of applause came from the room. Alistair turned and tried to glare his friends into silence, but the four guys sitting there just grinned back at him, unapologetic.
“Not bad,” Sam said. “Though if it was me, you can bet your sweet ass she’d have gone for a crotch grab. Women can’t resist me.”
Sam was notoriously incapable of securing any female interest at all, and normally Alistair found it amusing that Sam could laugh at himself. Tonight, he wasn’t interested in the usual round of jokes and comments of questionable taste. He just wanted to be alone with Sasha and ask what the hell that had been all about. She had already turned to face the front so that her expression was no longer visible, and a second later she popped up off of his lap and moved to refill Jack’s drink.
Damn his friend for being such a lush, because Alistair’s lap felt empty without Sasha on it.
As she bent over to grab a bottle of rum, Alistair stared at the curve of her backside in her jeans and wondered why he had thought plunking her down in his bar was such a good idea.
He should have kept her upstairs in his apartment and let her kiss him until they both ran out of spit.
Alistair shifted on his stool. His jeans were too tight.
And it had been far too long since he’d had sex.
He reached under the counter for a bottle of blood. All of his had gone south.
SIX
SASHA PUSHED HER HAIR BACK OFF HER FACE AND tried not to be aware of Alistair staring at her, but it was impossible. The room itself was small, and behind the bar there was barely enough room for the two of them. To get drinks and use the cash register, she was constantly moving around him, brushing against him, and having to stick her behind in his face when she bent to get glasses.
What had possessed her to kiss him?
Maybe it had been the knowledge that he wouldn’t kiss her. It was written all over his face, in his quiet compassion and understanding of who she was, that he would not take such an opportunity and abuse it. He would never push.
And she had been amazed to discover that it actually frustrated her, because while she never wanted to be pushed or dominated by a man again, she did want to kiss Alistair. She was attracted to him. He awakened feelings in her she had never thought she’d experience again. Desire and longing. The need for sexual satisfaction.
So she had wanted to test it, to see what it would feel like to kiss him, to have her body pressed up against his with no pressure, no baggage between them. To just be curious and aroused and see how far she could take that before she shut down emotionally and physically.
Interestingly, the shutdown hadn’t happened. She had gotten excited, into the kiss. She had actually enjoyed herself, and the way it felt to have his fingers pressing against her waist, and his mouth moving with hers. Even when she had shifted and felt the hardness of his erection, it had not alarmed or disturbed her. She had actually felt a completely foreign urge to reach down and stroke it, to see if she could make him moan.
Now as she took money from Jack for his tab, she could feel the heat on her cheeks. She wanted to have sex with Alistair, and that had the potential to really complicate her need to leave town quickly. But she was so intrigued, so damn relieved, to know that she was still normal. That she was still a woman who could feel desire, that her body understood the difference between normal, healthy sex and what she had endured with Gregor.
At least she thought her body understood that.
But she really wanted to find out, reassure herself perhaps she wasn’t destined to a lifetime alone after all.
At the sound of female laughter she glanced up. Three vampires dressed in jeans and tank tops came into the back room, their faces lit up with smiles, purses over their shoulders, their steps confident and sassy.
Sasha tucked her hair behind her ear and found herself slouching a little. Women didn’t like her. They never had. No matter how hard she had tried to make friends in her teens and early twenties as Gregor started taking her to parties and social events, she had always received blatant belligerence or false fawning for her efforts. So as a defense mechanism, she had gotten into the habit of standing tall and straight, assuming a haughty air in her designer clothes, the untouchable girlfriend, and later wife, of Gregor Chechikov.
And women had left her alone.
But she did not want to play that icy role here, in front of Alistair. She did not have the stomach for it anymore. So she would try to stay innocuous instead.
It didn’t work.
After an initial round of greetings with the guys, the woman with dark hair cut short and angled approached the bar. “Hey, can I get a Jägerbomb?”
Sasha nodded, then glanced over at Alistair. She hadn’t made that drink yet.
“It’s Jägermeister and Red Bull,” he told her, standing up and grabbing a Red Bull out of the cooler.
“Ohmigod, you don’t know what a Jägerbomb is?” the woman asked. “Girl, you don’t know what you’re missing.” She leaned over the bar and smiled. “I’m Janelle. You must be new.”
“Yes, I am . . . Jenny.” Sasha had a hard time identifying herself by a name as carefree as Jenny, but perhaps she should enjoy introducing herself as simply another New Orleans bartender, without all of her burdensome background. There could be something really liberating about that. “It is nice to meet you.”
Alistair made the drink and put it on the counter. “What’s up, Janelle?”
“We’re having a girls’ night out. I haven’t been out in three whole weeks, and we are seriously ready to party. So don’t be boring or we’ll have to leave and find better guys to hang with.”
“I’m always boring,” he said, leaning on the counter. “You should know that by now.”
Janelle laughed. “True. Guess I’ll have to flirt with Jack instead.”
As the girl turned and moved away with her drink, Sasha frowned at Alistair. “Boring? Why would you say that?” He didn’t seem boring at all to her. He was solid, sexy, strong. Sasha reached for the tap. She was thirsty.
Alistair shrugged. “I am pretty boring. I work, I sleep, I feed
, I watch movies, I play my guitar. Not an exciting life for a vampire.”
No politics. No maneuvering. No crime.
Just an honest night’s work and living life with people whose company you enjoyed.
It sounded blissful to Sasha. “An exciting life is overrated. As is wealth.”
Alistair gave her a small smile. “I suppose you’re right.” He put his hand on the small of her back and rubbed it a little. “You’re doing great, by the way. You’re a very fast learner.”
“Thank you.” It felt so odd to have him touching her, yet it was not a bad feeling. It was comforting, and that scared her a little. What did she really know about Alistair Kirk?
Another of the women approached her and asked for a beer. “I’m Kelly, by the way,” she said with a warm smile. “Jack says your Alistair’s girlfriend. I’m married to Harry.”
Sasha had no idea who Harry was, and she was starting to lose track of the people she had met over the last two nights. But Kelly seemed genuinely friendly, so Sasha smiled back. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“You should go out with me and Janelle some night. Tami can’t get out that much because she watches her mortal step-child, but Janelle and I like to hit Bourbon every Saturday night.”
“Thanks. I would like that.” Sasha wondered why she agreed to something she knew she would never do since she was leaving town in a few days, but Kelly looked so sincere, like she actually wanted Sasha to go out with them. It was such an unexpected behavior from a woman, that Sasha found herself desperately wanting to see what it would be like to spend an evening doing nothing but talking and laughing and dancing with friends.
The only friend she’d ever had was Ivan.
She wanted girlfriends. She wanted to belong.
She suddenly wanted to weep for all that she had lost, for all that she would never have.
And whenever she wanted to give in to weakness and cry, she dug in and faced it down. So she added, “How late are you staying out tonight? Maybe I can go out with you after my shift ends.”
“That would be cool. When does your shift end? We’re staying out all night.”
She turned to Alistair. “When does my shift end?”
His eyes were dark and he did not look pleased with her. “Can I speak to you for a minute in private?”
“Uh-oh.” Kelly took the beer Sasha had gotten for her, and said, “Alistair was hoping for sex tonight, I think, not you running off with the girls.”
Janelle leaned over and yelled, “Let her go with us, Al! We’ll bring her home drunk and horny, promise.”
Sasha almost laughed, but the look on Alistair’s face stopped her. He was grimacing.
“Wonderful,” he said. “I knew I could count on you, Janelle.”
“I’ve got your back,” Janelle said, than turned to nudge Jack off his stool so she could sit down.
Alistair took Sasha’s hand and started walking, not tugging or pulling her, but encouraging her to follow. He pushed the back door open with his free hand and turned to face her.
Sasha stood tall, ready to face him down. He was going to be bossy and controlling, telling her what she could and couldn’t do, and she wasn’t going to take it. If she was going to have any sort of relationship with Alistair—not that she wanted one exactly, but they needed to co-exist for a few days—she was going to establish firmly right now that she was not going to be pushed around. So just let him try to tell her what to do.
“Sweetheart, it’s dangerous for you to go out alone with the girls.”
That wasn’t what she had expected him to say, and she just blinked at him for a second. He had called her sweetheart. He looked worried about her safety.
“Because of Cassandra?” she asked, most of her anger dissipating.
“Yes. The whole point of keeping you in the bar is to keep you protected by me and my friends. If you’re out running around on Bourbon with Kelly, Janelle, and Tami, you’re vulnerable. Not that they can’t take care of themselves, because those are some smart women, but the four of you up against Cassandra’s bodyguards isn’t a fair fight.”
“I see.” She did. And she knew he was probably right.
“But I’m not going to forbid you to go because I have no right to do that. If you really want to go, just please be careful, okay?” He touched her cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
It could be a con. It could be a manipulation to get her to stay. It could be anything but what it sounded like, but for whatever reason Sasha believed him. She wanted to believe him, that Alistair was a nice enough guy that it would bother him if she was killed unnecessarily by vampires, or tortured by slayers. It probably didn’t even matter who she was, he would feel the same for anyone under his protection, but it pleased her. Made her stop, consider, understand the truth of what he was saying.
Her survival instinct was too honed to throw caution to the wind just for a few hours of dancing.
So with regret, she just said, “Okay,” and went back into the bar.
Catching Kelly’s eye, she smiled at her ruefully. “I guess I really shouldn’t go. Thank you so much for inviting me though, and I hope we can do it another night.”
There were raised eyebrows all around the room, but none of the men said a word. The women, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to give their opinion.
Kelly looked at Alistair in reprimand. “That’s so mean to do that to your new girlfriend in front of us.”
“Do what?” he asked, sticking his hands out.
“Your jackass thing.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Oh, whatever,” Kelly said in disgusted dismissal. She smiled at Sasha. “We can make definite plans for next weekend.”
Janelle said, “And maybe if you take Alistair upstairs for a quickie right now, you can still go out tonight.”
“Mind your own business,” Alistair said, sounding mildly irritated as he dumped out a full ashtray into the trash.
But Sasha could see what the counter hid from the others in the room. Alistair’s erection had reappeared. Which really pleased her. And she knew that she wanted to have sex with him, that she had something to prove to herself, that she needed to know if she could let the past go.
So she said, “That’s a great idea, Janelle. Alistair, let’s go upstairs.”
There was general laughter and a whistle or two from the room, but Alistair’s head just snapped up and he stared at her, hand and ashtray suspended over the waste bin. Sasha slid in alongside of him, her hip touching his. “That is a good idea, yes?”
He stared hard at her. “We can’t leave the bar with no bartender.”
“What time does the bar close?”
“It doesn’t. But at four, the new bartender comes on.”
“It is three already.” She ran her finger down his chest.
His breathing tempo increased. “Yeah, so?”
Sasha smiled, a slow, hopefully seductive smile. “It will still be a good idea at four.”
Then she turned and left him to contemplate that.
ALISTAIR didn’t know what game Sasha was playing, but it was torturing him. Part of him just didn’t believe that she wanted to have sex with him simply for the sake of physical satisfaction, yet he couldn’t figure out how else it would benefit her. If it was meant to be a ploy, a ruse of some kind, he couldn’t determine any motivation for it. He had already told her he wasn’t going to hold her captive. She was free to leave at any time. And he was perfectly willing to protect her without any sexual favors in return. That was not the kind of guy he was.
So why was she suddenly purring like a Russian sex kitten?
But she was, and he was debating if he was strong enough to turn her down. It seemed wrong to sleep with her if he suspected she was conning him, but on the other hand, this was Sasha, and she was hot. He didn’t want to regret passing up an opportunity to touch her naked body, to sink his fangs into her flesh, and to roll her on top of him.
>
Damn it. He wanted everyone in the bar to go away and take their laughter with them. He couldn’t joke around with Sam and Jack when he was this wound up.
Maybe Sasha was just taking her role as Jenny, his girlfriend, seriously. The question was, how far did her role-playing extend?
Because he had the serious need to shag her.
Which made him a sick bastard.
But if she was willing, he was pretty okay with whatever label applied.
Double-damn it. Alistair watched her pulling a beer from the tap. No, he couldn’t take advantage of her. Could he?
The clock on the wall read three fifty-three. Bernie, his mortal bartender, hadn’t shown up yet.
“I’m heading out,” Jack said, standing up and fumbling to stick his cell phone in his pocket.
Great. Just what Alistair wanted. Jack snoring upstairs while Alistair was trying to determine if Sasha was interested in getting naked or not. That sounded completely unsexy. Maybe it was time to get his own apartment. Immediately. In the next ten minutes.
“Alright, good night, man. See you upstairs.” Alistair tried to play it cool, even as Sasha glanced over at him, her dark eyes curious. He suspected she had just remembered Jack was his roommate.
“I’m actually going over to Ashley’s.”
“Who’s Ashley?” Alistair asked, then decided he didn’t care. Jack was going to be out of the apartment, and that was what mattered.
“Shot girl.” And with that Jack was gone with a wave.
Sasha tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled at Alistair, staring up at him from under those long, sexy eyelashes. She knew they were going to be alone.
Alistair’s body was taut with tension and if Bernie didn’t show up in the next two seconds, he was not going to be responsible for his actions.
Bernie came out of the back room. “Hey, what’s up?”
About freakin’ time. “Nothing, we’re out of here. Have a great day.” He took Sasha’s hand and hauled ass out of there. This was going to happen, good idea or not. It had to happen.
Only when Alistair got upstairs did he realize that for the first time in three hundred years, he was nervous about being with a woman. He had seen Sasha chained to a wall. Had seen her lying on the ground, staked, bleeding to death. Had been witness to the ferocity in her eyes as she had fought for her survival. Alistair knew she didn’t entirely trust him, in the same way he wasn’t convinced he understood her motives. It made him hesitate.
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