Steph was already shaking her head, even though Zara couldn't see it. "Nope, that's okay. It was a weird question anyway. Sorry I bothered you."
She should've known her friend wasn't going to let it go quite so easily. "Tell me what's going on, Steph. You're making me nervous. Did something happen?"
Steph weighed her options and eventually opted for some part of the truth. "I have weird lapses of memory of my time there. Even the plane ride is kind of a blur. Like, I remember being on a plane, but when I try to visualize the setting and people around me at the time, there's like these dark empty spaces...you know what, seriously. Forget I even called. It was stupid and--"
"No way," Zara shot back. "You obviously called because it was bothering you so I'm not going to let you just discount it. Keep going."
Steph chewed on her lower lip for a minute and then steeled herself.
Rip it off. Like a Band-Aid.
"I keep having these dreams of a guy and they feel so real. I can hear him talking to me, I can picture his face, right down to the color of his eyes. I feel like he was at the house with us but every time I try to think harder on it and mine that particular memory, it seems to almost physically pull away from me." Her cheeks flushed and she rushed to finish. "I know I sound loony, but it's just super strange and I wanted to check with you and see if any of that might ring a bell to you."
Zara was silent for so long this time, the hairs rose on the back of Steph's neck.
"I'm going to talk to Gabriel whether you want me to or not, Steph. That is all really strange and if it's bothering you I want to make sure we get to the bottom of it, all right?"
"Do you think maybe I could have some milder version of the virus you had? Maybe my immune system was able to deal with it more efficiently or something?"
It was a long shot, but at this point, she couldn't think of any other possible explanation that didn't sound like some sort of tin-foil hat-level conspiracy involving her friend becoming an experimental super-soldier under the watch of the CIA and then erasing her memory in order to keep it covered up.
"I don't know, Steph, but as soon as I do, I'll give you a call back, okay? In the meantime, try not to worry. It might have just been the stress of the situation. You were worried I wasn't going to make it, and we weren't sleeping a lot. It could be that, in time, it will all start to become more clear."
She swallowed back a sigh of disappointment and shoved back the guilty voice that chimed in.
You're not going to tell her about Phineas Fenton or Club Nitris last night, then?
She wasn't. Not yet. That was more of a face-to-face kind of talk, and she'd already intruded on her friend's trip enough. On Monday, if she hadn't figured out how this all tied together, she'd tell her the rest of the story. For now, she was going to hang up, head into the kitchen and dull the misery with a giant bowl of black raspberry ice cream.
"I'll be fine. You just enjoy the rest of your trip."
They said their goodbyes and Steph disconnected, tossing the phone on the nightstand. She rolled to her feet and padded out to the kitchen. Just as she rounded the corner, a knock sounded at the door. She froze, unable to stifle the sizzle of unease that shot through her.
She didn't get a lot of surprise visitors, so the knock only seconds after she talked to Zara had her resisting the urge to fashion a tin-foil hat before answering. Instead, she crept up slowly and peered through the peephole.
Fears of men in suits and sunglasses or, worse, a team of scientists from the CDC dressed in hazmat suits came skidding to a halt as she locked gazes with the FedEx man. He was waiting patiently, holding an innocuous looking brown box.
A relieved chuckle broke past her lips and she swung open the door. Probably the boots she'd ordered from that catalogue the week before.
"Do I need to sign?" she asked as he handed her the package with a smile.
"Nope, all set."
He turned and jogged lightly down the steps and out to his truck. Steph stepped back inside and closed the door behind her, legs weak with relief.
That would teach her for being such a drama queen.
She carried the large package into her bedroom and sat on the edge of the mattress, working at the packing tape to get it open. Inside the box was a second, smaller box. Only this one wasn't brown or cardboard. It was gleaming black with lush, gold lettering on the top.
Sienna's.
It was the most expensive boutique in town, and one she and Zara had only set foot into once after a few margaritas to ooh, ahh and giggle over the price tags.
Her pulse stuttered as she drew the box out and laid it on the bed next to her.
It would make no sense in the world for this to have anything to do with her little mystery or her big mystery man. And yet, she was one hundred percent sure that Phineas Fenton was responsible for the gorgeous box on her bed.
She eyed it like it was a live snake, scared to touch it but at the same time, almost aching with curiosity. She managed to hold off for exactly three seconds before yanking the top off and peering inside. Tucked beneath the gold tissue paper was a pair of black stilettos with red soles and what looked to be a black dress. With a shaking hand she reached inside and lifted the dress out with a gasp.
It seemed like it was made of gossamer and fairy dust, the material was so sublime and light. There was a metallic sparkle woven into it that gleamed as the light hit it. She was just about to stand and bring it to the mirror when she saw the red envelope at the bottom of the box. She reached for it and tore it open like a kid at Christmas.
And as she read the words on the card, her heart hammered.
I can't stop thinking about last night. Come to me. I'll send a car at 8 PM.
-Phin
Chapter 6
Phin glanced down at his watch and felt a strange sensation tugging at his belly. He cocked his head and peered out into the moonlit night thoughtfully.
What in the world was that feeling? Not fear, to be sure. Anticipation, yes. But something else mixed in…something strange and foreign. Something he had to cast back deep into his own memories to recall.
Nerves.
As he stood there on his rooftop widow's walk, he realized with a start that he was actually nervous.
His low chuckle echoed through the night as he contemplated that turn of fate. It was only weeks before that he'd been willing to go head-to-head with the Master in order to right the status quo, knowing that he might pay for his insolence with his life and he'd felt nothing. Despite his strong sense of self-preservation, the thought of disappearing from this earth had moved him very little. But now, the very idea that this tiny woman who had been more of a burr under his blanket for most of the short time he'd known her might not show up at his invitation had him in knots.
Ridiculous.
And still, he took one last glance at his watch. Twenty after eight. The car had been dispatched in plenty of time, so this could only mean one of two things.
She'd either decided not to join him and he would be receiving a call from his driver shortly, informing him of that. Or, she was coming and had decided to make him sweat a little. He had to admit, he highly preferred the latter, even though it was irritating to give her that much power over him.
Once he'd had her...once he'd tasted all that he'd touched and more, this pressure would ease. This clawing, deep need to be inside her would fade as it did with all the rest. Then he could go on as usual.
The thought didn't give him as much pleasure as it once did, but he shoved that uncomfortable truth aside.
So he'd get a hobby. Maybe start painting or find a passion. What he didn't need in his life, no matter how boring it got, was a mate.
The sound of an approaching car in the distance caught his sensitive ears, and he turned, using his night vision to hone in on the car.
The black Bentley cruised down his cul-de-sac, the purr of the engine unmistakable now. His blood sang as he uncorked the bottle of wine he'd had on standb
y. The rich, ruby color of the liquid stirred him further and his gums ached with pressure as he realized he hadn't fed today at all.
So strange, but the thought of bagged blood held no appeal, and the thought of drinking from one of his familiars held even less.
Forget painting. He clearly needed to hire a shrink.
"H-hello?"
He turned to see Steph standing in the open doorway of the rooftop patio, wringing her hands in front of her like a child during show and tell.
But the rest of her was far from childlike. His cock swelled instantly as he took in the vision. Her hair was swept away from her gamine face, showcasing those gorgeous, wide-set eyes. Her shoulders gleamed like mother of pearl against the black dress he'd selected for her. Her cleavage was like a gift, plumped up against the neckline, beckoning him. And the shoes, god the shoes. Trim, muscular legs shown at their best in those stilettos, the blood-red sole peeping out, an almost tongue-in-cheek nod to his own nature.
His throbbing gums split, making room for the very tips of his fangs before he was able to retract them. Luckily, her gaze was pinned on a spot somewhere over his shoulder, so she didn't notice.
"I'm so glad you came," he murmured, stepping toward her.
"I almost didn't," she blurted. "In fact, I don't know why I did. It was like I had no choice. I couldn't seem to stay away."
That was strange, as he hadn't compelled her to come or used any sort of magic to get her here besides the power of a normal human wish. Which told him that she was as taken with him as he was with her. A fact that only banked the fires of his need even higher.
"Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked.
She nodded and accepted the goblet he held out to her with whispered thanks.
She took a long pull from the glass before straightening her shoulders and meeting his gaze head on for the first time since she'd come.
"Look, Phin, I don't know what's happening here between us, but will you at least admit that this isn't normal? I feel like I know you. I came to your house even though, for all I know, you could be a serial killer. I seem too smart for that, don't I? But here I am. Tell me why."
The words were bold, forthright, and he could tell they cost her. He liked that. He appreciated honesty more than just about any other quality, which made having to lie to her again hard to swallow.
So maybe not a lie, then. Maybe just a little well-placed misdirection.
"Do you believe in fate, Stephanie?"
She eyed him suspiciously. "Like some magical hand that moves us all around like some pawns on a chessboard? No thanks."
He couldn't help but laugh and realized, even as they sparred, he was still having more fun with Stephanie than he could remember having in years.
"Me either. So if we have free will, and you decided to come, shall we agree that we're together right now because we want to be? Because we're two adults who are drawn to each other even if we can’t explain it?" He took a gamble and closed the remaining distance between them to pluck the glass from her hand and set it on the table beside them. "Two adults who want one another very badly, and are willing to break some rules to have each other?"
He traced his thumb over her silky lips and she parted them on a gasp. Her eyes shot to his, soft and searching. It took awhile, but she nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly stepping closer until her breasts grazed his chest.
Lord, she was soft, and smelled so sweet. Lust pounded through him hard and he cupped her chin, tipping her head back to give him access to that mouth.
He crushed his lips to hers and something inside him broke loose. Something that had been tethered for so long, he’d forgotten it had existed.
Joy.
Pure, unadulterated joy sang sweetly in his veins even as lust closed over him like a fist.
His.
This woman was his. He knew it at surely as he was standing there. His every defense mechanism had initially risen to fight it. But now, as his tongue tangled with hers and the spell of her scent enchanted him, he had no doubt.
He’d found his mate.
And she doesn’t even know what you are…what you’ve done.
He smashed the thought down even as he crowded closer to Stephanie, lining his hips up with hers to feel her softness against his hardness.
There would be time for the truth soon enough. For now, he’d given her a chance to turn away from him. He hadn’t mesmerized her or tricked her. But tonight, she’d returned to him. She was here because she felt it as strongly as he did. Whether she believed in fate or not, they were meant to be.
His fingers tightened on her hips, anchoring her tight to him. Her fingers closed around the fabric of his suit jacket as she pulled away and took a step back.
Gaze locked on his, she lifted a hand to the slim strap of her dress. In a habit that died hard, he instinctively sucked in a breath he didn’t need as she hooked a finger around it and tugged it off one shoulder. He watched, every nerve humming, as she repeated the move on the other side. Time seemed to stand still as the silk concoction slithered to her feet in whispering heap.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, the last of the blood in his body seeming to rush to his cock as he took in the sight of her.
She hadn’t bothered with a strapless bra, and pert, dusky-tipped breasts greeted his hungry eyes. He let his gaze trail lower, down to the scrap of black lace covering her womanhood, and lower still to those sexy legs. They were capped off with the shoes he’d spent nearly an hour selecting, and he gave himself a mental high five. The best hour he’d ever spent.
Until this next one, he vowed silently.
She stood proudly before him, the last of her nerves seeming to sizzle away under the heat they were creating.
Her skin was like alabaster in the moonlight, and his throat flexed in a hunger response even as his fangs threatened again. How he ached to show her the pleasure/pain of his bite. To take her to the climax she’d known in the past and so far beyond, her human mind couldn’t comprehend it.
He put a brake on that thought and focused on the now. If he played his cards right, maybe someday…
Until all that was decided, she was a wish and a dream and a prayer all wrapped in one and he wasn’t going to waste another second.
He reached for her but she held up a hand to his chest, the fierce, snapping light in her eyes one he remembered so well from their verbal tussling in Montana.
How he’d missed that.
“You got to touch me the other night, but I never had the chance to really touch you back,” she said.
She stepped closer and reached for him, unfastening his pants and shimmying them down over his hips, down his thighs.
“I want to taste you,” she murmured, pushing his boxers to his ankles to join his pants. His cock sprang forward in bold relief, hard and aching for attention. She shifted until the backs of her knees pressed against a large chaise lounge tucked under a sun canopy. She lowered herself until she was seated, her face not an inch from his cock. He wanted to close his eyes for a second, make a play for that iron-like control he prided himself on. But her face was like a painting of desire, mouth parted, cheeks flushed as her breath came faster now.
He couldn’t look away.
Her gaze locked with his for a moment and she licked her lips. If she was trying to torment him, it was working. But when her fingers closed around his shaft? That was when the real torture began. She worked him up and down, but she never allowed her mouth to close over him. Instead, she licked the length from his head to base, first slowly, then faster, all the while massaging his thigh with her free hand. His member ached and thickened as he watched in anticipation of her next move.
She stroked faster, working his throbbing cock up and down before releasing his thigh to cup his balls. Then she parted her lips over his swollen head and sucked. His whole body bucked, arching into her as he tried to swallow the groan building in his chest. Her mouth was perfect, molten hot and soft, and it took everything he
had not to flex his hips and slide deeper. She wanted to play, he would let her.
He speared his hands into her hair and massaged her scalp as she corkscrewed her tongue around him until he grew impossibly harder in her mouth.
"God damn it.”
How could this tiny human make him so crazed with a simple blowjob? He’d been with hundreds of women, two and three at a time even, and he’d never wanted someone so badly.
She suckled once more, hard, and then released him to pull back and look up at him. His cock wept at her absence, his balls pulling up tight as a pearly bead of cum welled up from the slit. She didn’t hesitate, flicking out her tongue to lap it up. She held his gaze before continuing downward, sucking him deep like she couldn’t get enough.
Need pounded through him as she worked him until his thighs quaked at the slightest touch. She wanted to keep going, urged him wordlessly to let go…to come in her mouth, but just as his self-discipline had frayed to the point of breaking, he pulled away and pressed her back against the chaise, blood pounding through his veins hot and fast.
He yanked his jacket off and tore at his shirt, sending buttons pinging off the wooden deck. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured.
“No, you are,” she countered, running her fingertips over his back.
He pressed her against the cushion and knelt between her thighs. Her underwear were still on, clinging to her hips, and he wasted no time in sliding them down her legs.
“Shoes on,” he muttered, caressing her trim ankle and lifting her calf to nip at the sensitive spot. The scent of her skin so close made his need rocket into overdrive and bloodlust shook him to his core. He closed his eyes for a long moment as he mastered it.
“Phin?”
Her soft murmur, husky with want, centered him and he opened his eyes again to see her flat on her back, buck-naked.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he said, his throat feeling scratchy, like he’d been sucking on glass. He nudged her thighs further apart and nestled between them, pressing a kiss to each hip before moving lower to press a close-mouthed kiss to her clit. She arched against the cushion, her breath catching.
Taming the Vampire: Over 25 All New Paranormal Alpha Male Tales of Contemporary, Military, Shifters, Billionaires, Werewolves, Magic, Fae, Witches, Dragons, Demons & More Page 95
