Stars started behind her vision, and he cursed beneath his breath as another orgasm blossomed from where they were joined and rolled through her whole body. Time stopped for her, even as he began to thrust into her harder. Faster. With each plunge, pleasure pinged through her, rolling through her whole body.
A guttural cry flew from his lips, and she opened her eyes, needing to see him. His mouth opened as his body stiffened and jerked. Fangs flashed.
She came again.
…
He woke suddenly, half panicked he’d slept through the night. But a quick glance at the clock revealed that only a half an hour had passed since Rachel fell asleep in his arms. There were things he needed to be doing, leads he should be following up on. Hell, he should at least be peering through Brent’s window to make sure nothing nefarious was going on while he was in Rachel’s comforting arms.
But he couldn’t drag himself away just yet. She smelled too good, fit too perfectly in his arms, and damn it all if he wasn’t as comfortable and relaxed as he had ever been.
It would all be perfect, if it weren’t for the fact that he was here to find a threat. And if he weren’t lying to the woman in his arms.
Maybe I should just tell her the truth.
Could he have something so perfect, longer than a night? Maybe. If he woke her up and told her everything now. He was sure that at the very least she would keep his confidence. Hell, she’d probably offer to help.
The vibration of his cell phone yanked him from his thoughts, and for a few seconds, he considered ignoring it. Curled into a comfortable little ball, Rachel’s naked back was pressed against the front of his body. Her sweet scent was all around him, and she was snoring just a little bit. There was no place he’d rather be.
His phone vibrated again, and she mumbled something indecipherable, still asleep.
It would be Noah, of course. Hell, what had he been thinking? Noah was already fighting tooth and nail to keep his human lover alive and well. Just Alice’s presence in their lives made keeping their secret all the more difficult. Did he really think dragging Rachel into such a life would be anything but selfish? He was done being selfish.
Thankful for his vampire strength and reflexes, he untangled himself and managed to get out of the bed without waking her. He grabbed his cell phone from his coat pocket and slipped into the bathroom.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Noah asked, voice tight with anger.
“Out with Brent, trying to get information.” Not, strictly speaking, a lie. The timing was just slightly fudged.
“There’s been another call,” Noah said.
Shit. “When?” He wasn’t sure what he was hoping Noah would say. What would be better? That it had happened while he was with Brent a couple of hours before, or that it had happened while he was taking pleasure in Rachel’s arms? One would end his time here. The other would make him a bastard for enjoying himself when he should have been monitoring Brent.
“Fifteen minutes ago.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
The unspoken question was clear. “I wasn’t with Brent fifteen minute ago.”
Noah cursed. “We need to get a handle on this. I thought you had things under control.”
“I can’t monitor him every fucking second of every day.” That, at least, was true. “I need more to go on, Noah. A list of times. Some text from the actual threats. I’m sure you’ve been recording them.” Noah was methodical. Smart. So his answer didn’t surprise Charles.
“Of course. And there have been emails. We’ve had no luck tracking them, either. Whoever is making the threats is very smart about covering his tracks.”
“Email everything you have to me.”
“You think it’ll actually help?”
“Can’t hurt. Better than working in the fucking dark.”
“Fine,” Noah said. “But Charles…”
“Yeah?” He got the feeling that Noah was weighing something very rude against something a little more his style—polite. Given that the love of Noah’s very long life was being threatened, Charles gave the replies equal odds.
“Work faster.”
Charles set his phone down on the bathroom counter and took a deep breath. It was too late to spy on Brent for the night. If he was the one making the threats, then he’d already made one, and would likely be sleeping now.
But could the man have had the ability to call and threaten Alice in the condition Charles left him? Not only make the calls, but cover his ass so effectively? His instincts screamed no, but it wasn’t impossible. A couple of hours had passed. Some food and coffee…maybe.
Hell, what if Brent hadn’t been as drunk as he’d appeared? Could he be onto Charles?
Charles ran a hand over his hair. If that was the case, he’d deal with it in due time. For now, he was at a standstill. Maybe the information Noah was emailing would help him sort this out. There might be a hint in the wording. A clue that Noah, being so close to the situation, might have missed.
He pushed away from the bathroom sink and slipped quietly back into the bedroom. Rachel still breathed softly, undisturbed. With care not to wake her, he slid back between the sheets and snuggled close to her.
She made a small noise of protest when he slid his arm under her neck, and when his other hand came around to press against her stomach, she stirred. “You’re cold,” she murmured, sounding only half awake.
“Warm me up,” he said softly in her ear. The tender skin of her abdomen felt so warm against his hand as he moved lazily over her skin. Before she fully awoke, he slid his hand between her legs and caressed her.
She gasped, and her legs parted slightly at his touch. Taking advantage of her movement, he palmed her, then slid a finger inside her body.
Damn. So fucking wet.
Her whole body tensed, but he held her firmly against him, continuing his assault.
“Oh,” she sighed.
“You like that?” He increased his pace, suddenly needing, more than anything, to make her moan for him.
“It’s my new favorite way to wake up.”
Talking to her was fun, interesting. One of his favorite things to do lately. But he wasn’t interested in talking now. He needed…something. Not comfort, certainly. Not to feel like less of a shithead for a few minutes. Not to feel part of something that was just his for a little while.
With sure movements, he pulled her leg up and back over his, spreading her a little farther. Then he slowly eased himself into her, so achingly slow he thought he might just lose the battle and instead rut like an animal. The temptation was fierce. But no. He was taking his time if it killed him.
She moaned, and the tightness of her body almost put him over the edge.
He nipped his way down her neck and his fangs elongated painfully in his mouth. How would it feel to sink them into her neck as his cock sank home? Fucking amazing, he would bet. But that wasn’t something he was going to find out. Sex with her was dangerous enough, but taking her blood into him while he did it? That wasn’t something he’d ever done. It was too intimate.
Gently and deliberately, he slid in and out of her warm, welcoming body. He caressed his hand up her thigh, making his way to one of her small, perfect breasts. She moaned at his touch, and he pinched her nipple before rubbing away the hurt. Her breathing came quickly and his hips moved faster, harder. She met him thrust for thrust, as best as she could in this position. The orgasm built inside him, furious and so fucking perfect.
“Touch yourself,” he said.
Her eyelashes fluttered in the dark, and after a moment’s hesitation, her hand slid down to stroke her sensitive bud.
Fuck.
Small cries escaped her with every thrust of his hips. And she was so tight and wet and needy that he couldn’t hold back anymore.
With one motion he picked her up and put her on her hands and knees. Her body arched toward him, and he drove into her, hard and fast. She cried out and broke around him, her
inner walls squeezing out the last of his control.
Hands gripping her hips to hold her in place even as her body went slack with satisfaction, he fucked her hard. Losing himself in the rhythm, the world around him was gone, and only the pleasure of this moment mattered.
A growl escaped him, and he thrust into her hard as he came. And for one moment, everything was fucking perfect.
Chapter Seven
The smell of coffee permeated the air. Still, the temptation to bury her head farther into her pillow enticed her, but that delicious scent, and an underlying sound her brain refused to identify, forced her to open an eye to check what was happening.
Charles hovered nearby, using the room’s little coffeepot to make a black liquid of questionable quality. His hair was pleasantly mussed, and the noise her sleep-deprived brain had refused to identify was coming from him—he was humming.
“I can tell you’re awake, missy. Maybe you should get up and text your sister before they catch us for real.”
She grinned and stretched, her body pleasantly sore. What a night. She could still feel his hands and mouth on her skin. Feel the way he brought out something in her that she’d never before experienced. She’d let go in a way she never had before. With anything. Before it could bring down her happy morning high, she shoved away the sobering thought.
“Morning,” she murmured, voice slightly rough. The screaming. Wow. What if people in the neighboring rooms had heard?
“What are you thinking about?” He raised an eyebrow at her and set a cup of coffee on the nightstand next to her. “I’m going to guess last night by your unusually red cheeks.” He bent and kissed her lips gently. “You okay?”
“I’m wonderful.” And that was the unadulterated truth. Decades of experience had served him well in the bedroom. A sudden spark of jealousy ignited in her chest at the thought, but she mentally shook off the paranoia. She wasn’t going to poison this—whatever this was—by giving in to silly, unfair emotions. Besides, it would be hypocritical to have enjoyed it so much the night before, only to condemn it in the light of day. Not like she could expect the who-knew-how-old vampire to be a virgin.
“How old are you?” she blurted out before she could think better of it.
He didn’t hesitate. “One hundred and two.”
“You look good for your age.”
“So do you,” he teased.
“How do you remember so easily without thinking about it? My mom takes at least ten seconds to answer that and she’s way younger than you are.” Now that was a disturbing thought. “You know what? Let’s both pretend I never said that.”
Something that sounded suspiciously like a snort escaped him. “Done.”
Bracing on one elbow, she reached for the coffee then took a long, slow drink. Not the worst coffee she’d had in her life. Some of the fuzziness in her mind faded enough so she could think more clearly. What was it he’d said? Oh, yeah—her sister. She set the coffee back down and reached for her cell phone.
“It’s eight already?”
“Yes. Although I don’t think you got more than a few hours of sleep. I think you should text your sister and get some more rest.”
“Sleep is overrated,” she murmured, scrolling through two text messages her sister had already sent. Rachel was only ten minutes late in meeting her, but Kristen was no doubt worried since she thought Charles had dumped her only the day before. Not that Kristen needed to worry about her. She couldn’t remember ever going googly enough for a guy that she’d actually moped when one left, but Kristen was a moper, and no doubt expected Rachel to transform into one as soon as she grew up—or so she put it. “But I could go for a little nap.”
“I’ll say,” he agreed. “I’m going to order room service. What do you feel like?”
More sex, she almost said. But she chickened out and muttered “French toast” instead. It was her favorite vacation food. And after their marathon the night before, it sounded nearly as tempting as another round with the vampire.
He picked up the room phone to order and she sent Kristen a hurried text message, explaining that she didn’t feel up to breakfast or their planned outing later this morning, but that she’d see her later. Kristen would no doubt think she was moping, but maybe that was for the best.
Maybe this whole situation was for the best. She bit her lip, struggling to find the courage to utter her idea aloud.
Charles hung up the phone. “Breakfast will be here in fifteen.”
“Charles?”
“Yeah?” He sat down on the foot of the bed and tugged playfully at one of her comforter-covered toes.
“What if we…” She kicked at him, laughing. “Stop that. I’m ticklish.”
“I know you are.” He grinned but released her foot. “What if we what?”
She had to force the words out around the sudden nervous lump in her throat. “What if we just left here? Went back to California and…I don’t know. Spent some time together? When Brent and Kristen get back in a few days, we can try again. It’s not like they’re getting married next week. In a place that he’s more comfortable, he might be more likely to let his guard down. You could—”
“No.” His expression closed off, and none of his normal casual happiness remained. And he made no move to offer any information other than his clipped answer.
“I…” She hadn’t expected him to refuse her so soundly, so quickly. “Okay,” she said. Just making the small suggestion was like revealing a weakness to the world, and despite all logic against it, she couldn’t help feeling a little stung at his quick and certain response.
Why had she thought he’d agree, anyway? He’d told her that he had business with Brent—important business. And he hadn’t even confided in her what it was. Had she really thought he’d drop something so important just because they’d slept together? She knew better.
A knock sounded and Charles shot her a small smile. She’d only known him a few days, but even she could see that it was forced. “Breakfast,” he said, far too cheerfully.
She nodded, then waiting until he was out of view, got out of bed. She grabbed her robe off the armchair and pulled it on. Cinching it tightly, she took a deep breath.
They’d had a wonderful night together, but she couldn’t reasonably expect him to alter his plans because of it. She wasn’t going to try to force this somewhere it wasn’t destined to go. Sure, she liked him—maybe too much considering how long they’d known each other. But that didn’t mean she should suddenly expect him to be Prince Charming and sweep her off her feet. That was the kind of thinking that got Kristen in trouble. The same line of thinking that had made their mother’s life so painfully difficult after their father left.
This was fun. She was going to enjoy the moment if it killed her. Trying to pinpoint where it was going or assign meaning to his every little action wasn’t healthy, and she wasn’t going to do it. Live in the moment. That was her new motto, for this week, anyway. After she got home, her motto would return to avoiding commitment and, even better, avoiding men altogether.
They’d said it was only for the night, after all. She was the one who said it, and he’d agreed. Why the hell had she given in to the urge to ask him to spend more time with her—to go back to California with her? God, she could only blame the lack of sleep and her sex-addled brain. The idea was ridiculous.
An outraged noise and the sound of her name being called about two decibels higher than strictly necessary yanked her from her thoughts. Before she could do anything other than check to make sure her robe covered everything that needed to be covered, her sister appeared, framed in the hallway.
“Hi!” The falseness in Kristen’s voice was painful to the ears. Dressed in a cute outfit that she had obviously picked specifically for a day of shopping, face splotchy and red and arms tightly crossed, Kristen looked positively ready to explode. Her fake cheerfulness only seemed to add a dangerous edge to her poorly hidden anger.
“I’m so sorry. I—”
What? Forgot we were supposed to go shopping today? No, she’d just texted Kristen that she didn’t feel well. There was no way out of the lie. “Did you get my text?” she finished, lamely.
Kristen grimaced. “I got it. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t expect you to have company.”
She swallowed. Their plans had changed the night before because Kristen, worried about her sister, had insisted they spend the day together. It had been obvious that she was doing it to keep Charles from so publicly ignoring Rachel again, and now it must look to her like Rachel had jumped right back into the shark’s jaws. Worse, she looked like a hypocrite, considering the amount of time she’d devoted to trying to get Kristen away from a man she didn’t approve of. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you earlier.”
“It’s no problem.” As Kristen’s anger faded, she looked more and more guilty. The low voices coming from the door made Rachel realize why.
“Nice robe, Rachel.” Brent peeked around the corner, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.
Heat crawled up her neck, and the urge to run swept over her. This wasn’t fake like the day before, and that made it feel so much worse. The slight bond between her and Charles was so new, so fresh, that it felt like Brent’s very presence could somehow taint it.
“Brent! Shoo. She’s barely decent.” Kristen turned back to Rachel, and started in on their plans for the day, obviously trying to cover up for her sister’s embarrassment. But behind her, Brent offered Charles an almost but not quite hidden low five.
Charles smirked, the expression so close to Brent’s it hit Rachel like a brick to the chest. Then slowly, as if her brain put everything into stop-motion so she could properly process it all and gain the full impact, he slapped Brent’s hand. The silent gesture turned into a slick handshake, and then Charles was walking with Brent toward the hallway with his arm loosely around the other man’s shoulders.
“So, you want to meet me in a half an hour?” Kristen asked, touching her in an attempt to pull her attention away from the two men walking away.
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