“Because I want to cook in this kitchen.”
His right eyebrow rose along with the side of his mouth. With a start, she realized he was as handsome as Caleb in his own way. She’d never thought of any of Caleb’s brothers as men, but the brothers were actually very attractive. “That I figured, but for whom? Vampires have a limited diet.”
She so did not need the reminder. Caleb was out “filling up” right now. Something he normally wouldn’t have to do except for her higher need for blood. She seemed to require feeding on a daily basis.
“Caleb for one. He likes my bear claws.”
“Caleb ate your bear claws?”
Okay. They could question her competency in a lot of areas but not when it came to her cooking. “Back off, Slade.”
He held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not questioning your ability to cook, just Caleb’s ability to eat.”
“The man’s been showing up at my bakery like clockwork for the last month. He had two bear claws and a cup of coffee every morning, which he ate with every appearance of enjoyment.” Enjoyment she wouldn’t believe was faked. “I think he can eat.”
“Not unless he’s been puking it back up as soon as he’s out the door.”
Now that was something she hadn’t considered. “You think Caleb’s bulimic?”
“Bull what?”
“Bulimic. As in throws up whatever he eats, a bad, sometimes fatal habit some women get into rather than gaining weight.”
Slade first looked shocked and then amused. “Bullheaded maybe, but I don’t think he’s overly concerned with poundage.”
“Then why is he throwing up?”
The look he gave her was long and considering before he shrugged and added cryptically, “Probably for the same reason you want to restore this old kitchen. A fondness for the past. And maybe a very strong attraction to the owner.”
“He did mention something about that.” A fact she was still having a tough time accepting.
“I bet he did.” Slade knelt in front of the stove. “You checked the chimney yet?”
“No.”
He looked at the freshly painted exterior. His glance clearly said she’d jumped the gun. “Why not?”
“I’ve been a little nervous about disturbing the inhabitants.”
His head cocked to the side as he listened to the renewed rustling. “You’re afraid of mice?”
“I’m not arguing they have a high ‘ick’ factor, but that wasn’t why I was hesitating. Before I opened the door, I was going to ask . . .”
“What?”
“There’s no such thing as were mice . . . is there?”
Her reward was a chuckle, completely natural and masculine, and sexy. Damn, were the Johnson brothers breast-fed testosterone? Slade opened the door. “No.”
The sounds of a hasty departure echoed out of the interior. The pipe rising out of the back shook, and then all was quiet.
“Well, hell.”
Allie looked down. Slade knelt and reached into the interior. When he pulled his hands out, he held what looked like a pile of debris, but there was no way that was just debris. He was holding it too carefully for that. And as it was moving of its own volition, probably alive. “Mr. and Mrs. Mouse have a family.”
Her first instinct when he held them out to her was to scream bloody murder and demand an instant end to the rodent population explosion, but then Slade parted the top of the debris with his thumbs to reveal eight tiny, pale gray, helpless little babies. “Why in hell do they have to be cute?”
Again he cocked the eyebrow at her. She wondered if he knew how arrogant, and at the same time sexy, the gesture made him. Not as sexy as Caleb, but enough to tug at any woman’s interest.
“You’d prefer them ugly?”
“Uh-huh. Then maybe I wouldn’t find the thought of you smashing their skulls so repulsive.”
He cradled the babies against his chest. “No one’s smashing anyone’s skull.”
Well, she hadn’t really been going to, but he didn’t have to look like she’d just suggested offering up a blood sacrifice. “Then what are you going to do with them?”
“The parents won’t come back, so I guess I’ll just take care of them until it’s time for them to find their way.”
She shook her head. He was a vampire and a scientist. Some things he ought to just get without being told. “You do realize they’re on the bottom of the food chain, and you’re only saving their lives so something else can have a midnight snack later, right?”
He stood. “That doesn’t mean they don’t have worth.”
No it didn’t. “I guess I’m just surprised to hear you say that.”
“Why? Because I’m a vampire?”
“Frankly, yes.”
He shrugged. “That wasn’t my doing.”
“It wasn’t mine either.”
He cut her a knowing glance. “But we all have to learn to live with it.”
Yes. They did. The little pile heaved and emitted high-pitched squeaks. She motioned to the mice. “Will they live?”
“I don’t know, but at least they’ve got a shot.”
“That’s better than nothing.”
“Yes.” He paused. “Whenever the anger at what’s been done to you rides you hard and you feel like lashing out, you might want to remember that you got a chance, too.”
Did everyone know about the fight she’d had with Caleb before he left? She wrapped her arms across her chest. “It’s not the same.”
“The hell it’s not.”
“Okay. Maybe it’s that it’s not that easy then.”
“Lady, nothing ever is.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the stove. “The weres have a woodstove in their compound. I’ll see if they have any piping for that flue.”
“Thank you.”
“You can install it, but don’t light it until we have the chimney checked out.”
Did he think she was a total idiot? “I wasn’t going to.”
“Caleb will be reassured to hear it.”
“He knows I’m working on the stove?”
“The whole place does. That paint stinks to high heaven.”
“Oh.” Duh! “I guess he doesn’t mind.”
“Why should he?”
“I don’t know.”
“He wants you to be happy, Allie.”
“I know.” She just wasn’t sure she could give him that, trapped as she was in a life-form that didn’t agree with her, that didn’t work the way it should. “I’m just not that good at adjusting.”
“Let him help you.”
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as the familiar pain began again. She was going to need blood soon. Again. Instead of spacing farther apart, her need to feed was happening sooner. “That’s another thing I’m not good at.”
“What?”
“Being helpless.”
This time the aura that surrounded him was one of strength and—she checked her inner radar—wisdom? “Sometimes you just have to accept what is, before you can move on.”
ACCEPT what is. Allie lay on the floor in the kitchen, battling the crippling pain. How in hell was she supposed to accept this? Cold seared deeper than the fires of hell could hope to burn. And where the hell was Caleb?
I’m coming.
Faster. The mental retort shot out before she could contain it.
Hold on, baby.
The guilt in his mental path made her feel like an ass. Caleb was downright neurotic about keeping her happy. If he was delayed it wasn’t by choice. I’m sorry, this damned pain is making me into a bitch.
You can apologize to me later.
How sick was it that even with her current level of distress, her body perked at the thought of making it up to Caleb.
Not sick at all.
The laugh shot out of her misery. You would think that.
Another pain slammed her head into her knees. She bit her lip through the spasm, trying to block the knowledge from Caleb of how bad it w
as. It was useless. He was in her head, too far away to take over, but there, sharing as best he could, mentally holding her hand. She clung to his presence, the sense of strength, riding it as the next wave swelled and swelled but never peaked, just sent the world into a realm of terrifying black.
She hated it here, this place created by agony where delusion reigned and she heard voices without faces, without words. Just voices, beckoning her to take the step over the invisible ledge she could sense but not feel, encouraging her to take the plunge. Every instinct said to step away, get back, but she couldn’t. Not this time. She didn’t have the strength. This time she kept falling deeper into the subconscious well, deeper into the cacophony. Deeper into hell.
“Come here, Allie girl.”
The whisper slid between her and disaster. Caleb. The voices screamed a protest. She shook her head against the utter desolation of their plea. She couldn’t help them.
“I’ve got you, baby.” Another whisper, more welcome than the first. She leapt for the reassurance with everything she had, backing away from the ledge, away from that one cultured voice that rose above the rest, almost hypnotic in its rhythm.
Stay . . .
No. She wouldn’t. Allie fought her way out of the void, struggling to get to the light that was Caleb, dragging herself up the trailing edges of his energy, feeling the pull of the void like a massive weight clinging to her legs. She fought harder, desperation lending her additional strength. She didn’t want to be one of them. She didn’t.
“Don’t want to be one of whom?”
Oh God, was that Caleb’s voice or was she imagining it? Was he finally here?
“I’m here.” Firm hands on her shoulders confirmed the words filtering out of the dark. Normal dark. The kind that came from having your eyes closed.
“I’m not dreaming anymore, am I?”
“No.” The broad support of his palm cupping her skull was welcome. “Feed, baby.”
She was moving toward him before he even finished the sentence, awareness flooding her with his scent, the steady comfort of his heartbeat, the whisper of his life-giving blood flowing through his veins. Pressure from his pinky tipped her head to the right angle. Her mouth shaped to the firmness of his pectoral, letting the curve spread her lips as he pressed, taking his flesh into her mouth. She kissed him once. Twice. The third time inching higher, her muscles gathering for the push that would get her what she wanted. His artery. His free hand opened over her shoulder, pressing down.
“No.”
The ravenous hunger moaned a protest, but surrendered to the learned knowledge that she couldn’t win against his strength. She accepted his lead, rubbing her lips across his chest until she found the rhythm of his pulse, biting deep into the flesh above it, wanting it to be part of her.
“There you go. I’ve got what you need.”
He did. Only he did. No other could satisfy the demands of her body. No other was right. The rich, unique taste of his blood spilled across her tongue. She held it there for a moment, not swallowing, letting the rightness of it, the bliss, settle the wildness before she drank.
He continued stroking her hair, adding calm to the hunger. “I’ll always have what you need.”
She waited until she could bear to part from him before asking, “Why?”
His hand rubbed her back as she stroked her tongue over his wound, closing it. “Why is it like this?”
His touch gentled as he pulled her up, ready for the second hunger that took her as hard as the first. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his face lowering to hers, “but we’re handling it, so it’s all right.”
Yes the voice whispered up from her soul. They were. This was right. Caleb’s blood in her veins. Caleb’s mouth joined to hers, this was what she needed. But more. She twisted in his arms, yanking off her shirt, reaching for her pants only to find his hands already there. With a growl, he sliced them from her body. For a split second his hands left her and then his cock was there, as feral and ready as the rest of him as it slapped against her inner thigh.
She dropped her head back and closed her eyes at his heat, his strength. With an equal ferocity, she grabbed his shoulders and straddled his hips. She needed him in her. Needed him to come, to seal the bond between them, needed it with every fiber of her being. His palms caught her hips, preventing her descent. This time the snarl was hers.
“You can bare those pretty little fangs at me all you want, but we’re slowing down.”
“No.” She opened her eyes. His features were so clear to her in the night, chiseled in planes of white, hollowed in valleys of black, the swirling glow of his eyes an incandescent statement of power. And she wanted it. Now. “Make love to me, Caleb.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Now.”
“You’re too soft for fast.” He began a slow entry, one that teased her with the agonizing, promised stretch. She bent her knees, trying to force a faster union. He shook his head, his gaze holding hers as he steadily gave her what she craved. “I don’t want you to tear.”
She struggled with his restraint. “I don’t care. I’m a vampire, I’ll heal.”
His “I care” was as resolute as his expression as he set the pace for the joining. “Damn, you feel so good, Allie girl.”
He was in her, the broad head snuggling just inside the opening. A bit of the crazy wildness subsided with the knowledge, but not the need. “I need you to come.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Now.” Oh God, why did she feel like this?
He lowered her as if she were the most fragile of treasures, as if she were breakable rather than immortal, letting her have more of what she wanted, answering her mental question. “I don’t know, but I like it.”
“I’m really beginning to hate that expression.” And she was beginning to think the Johnson brothers didn’t know a lot of things they should about being vampires.
The tension in his face spread to his drawl, roughening it. “I wish I had better answers. I’m asking Slade to look into it.”
Another inch. Her body fluttered around his. His curse was music to her ears. As she looked up, she saw something primitive flash through his eyes
“You feel it, too.”
He didn’t answer directly, just dug his fingers into her buttocks and held her still while he teased her with sharp pulses of his hips, driving her wild.
“Caleb!”
“I’ve got you.”
She knew that. “Damn it, I won’t break.”
“You feel damn fragile to me.” This time he gave her more— harder, a little deeper bringing an ecstatic gasp to her lips. Oh yes, that’s what she wanted.
“Fragile and hot and wet.”
She dug her nails into his shoulders, rubbing her breasts against his hair-rough chest, the sharp stab of pleasure making her clench around him. “You forgot eager.”
The next clench was deliberate. His moan was not. She flexed her internal muscles again, coaxing him to the pace she wanted. Leaning in, she raised herself up until he barely breached her, teasing them both with the implication of what could come next, should come next. She whispered in his ear, “Very, very eager and if you don’t come for me soon, I’ll scream.”
Against her, his big body shuddered. “Careful with that tempting, Allie girl. You have no idea how close I am to giving you what you’re begging for.”
Actually, she did. Streams of energy were pouring from him, leaking past his control, and along with them came random images of his desire. The one she liked best was where he had her on her back, her ankles over his shoulders, helpless before his desire, taking her as he wanted because she had no choice. Oh yeah, that had real possibilities.
She caught the image, focused it, and sent it back, knowing she succeeded by his harshly indrawn breath and the sudden stillness of his body. Beneath her fingers his muscles knotted. “Give me that, Caleb. That’s what I want.”
As if her whisper were what his demon was wait
ing for, he went animalistic. With a curse that sounded more like a plea, he flipped her. She braced herself for the impact with the floor, but his hand was there, cushioning her while he moved up between her thighs. His shaft prodded her intimately while his grip shifted. She lifted her rear, facilitating his efforts. Her reward was another of those curses that went through her in a shiver, and the erotic stretching of the tendons in the back of her knees as he hooked her ankles over his broad shoulders. He braced his hands on either side of her chest. His expression was a mix of desperation and lust as his gaze met hers. “Stop me.”
She shook her head. “Not a chance. I want you like this.” Bracing her hand over his, she held on. “Wild and mine.”
“Then take me.” He drove into her with merciless force, spearing deep, riding her shock and bliss to the core of her being where the rejoicing howl swelled, “Yes!”
His lips drew back from his teeth as he pulled back. “Son of a bitch.” He lunged forward, filling her to the max, but not enough. Not completely. The unbearable pressure that bordered on pain grew. “All of me.”
And she did. Opening more and more with each thrust, her desire ricocheting off his to that spot inside that wanted more. Needed more. Her nails raked the back of his hands as she shoved her hips into his, her need no less savage, no less consuming than his. Her cries of “yes” wrapped around his grunts of “mine,” creating a pulsing, primitive rhythm that accelerated toward an ending she couldn’t avoid but didn’t know if she’d survive. “Caleb!”
“Right here.”
She shook her head, the energy too consuming to bear. “I can’t—”
His hand anchored in her hair, yanking her gaze up to his narrowed one. Nothing about his face or voice was soft. He was pure driven primitive male, staking his claim. “You will.”
She almost didn’t recognize his face as his body pounded into hers, his features distorted by vampire lust and determination, but the fire in his eyes, that she recognized. She clung to it as his body pounded into hers, demanding the response she feared. His energy worked deeper, forcing another opening. “Mine.”
His grip on her hair tightened, drew her head back, the little stings joining in the conflagration consuming her. The tendons in her legs protested as her spine arched, lifting her breasts in an equally primitive offering. His head lowered. His “Always mine” was a feral prelude to the white-hot anticipation of his bite. Oh God, his bite. She shivered and held her breath, needing it.
Caleb Page 13
