I hesitated. “Maybe, but why do you do that?”
He got all serious. “I’m not accustomed to answering to anyone, Henna. Been a big boy for awhile now and I do whatever I want. However, I promise not to disappear on you anymore. Okay?”
It was a half answer, but I liked it. “Thank you. Your turn.”
Brecken looked like he was relieved. “What do you like most about yourself, Henna?”
At last we’re back to the easy ones. “I can take care of myself. I’m smart and can sing. How about you?”
“Heh. The thing I like most is that I can think. I think a lot, about everything. I’m a good thinker.” He dropped forward into a perfect pose of Rodin’s statue 'The Thinker' - one he showed me in his textbook.
He held so still, like a mime at a carnival. I leaned over to look up into his posed face, and he moved his eyes to mine and winked. Butterflies in my stomach.
“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” Still holding his pose.
A gorgeous statue that talked. “No. Have you?”
“Yes, of course. Want to go for a ride?” Now he turned his head and surveyed the cars parked at the curb.
“You have a motorcycle?” I looked for it on the street.
“Um hm, at home. It’s Louie’s, but we both use it. Come riding with me, Henna.”
“I love the idea, but - um - it’s kind of cold, isn’t it?”
“Leather jackets are wonderful things.” He arced his empty cup straight into the trash.
“Show off. I don’t have a leather jacket.”
“But I have several. And helmets. Let's go. Right now.”
A motorcycle ride, my first. With him. “Where to?”
“The mountains.”
That sounded a little scary and a whole lot exciting and stomach butterflies turned to quivery moths. “Uh, lots of curves, aren't there?”
“That's the point, Henna. Besides, you can hang on to me.” His gaze strayed to my lips and he gave me a slow half smile. “Believe me, I never fall off.”
Resist that? Not a chance. “Okay, but I need to go home first.” I was nervous and could always brush my teeth and fix my hair back out of the way. Find a pair of gloves, too.
He stood. “Shall I pick you up at your house?”
No asking where I lived and if it was far, I noticed. Then I thought of my Sonar surprise and Christina still in bed. But she was leaving for San Diego later and staying for two days, so maybe tonight after the Tavern.... “Meet me back here in twenty minutes.”
I raced home picturing myself glued to his back, arms wrapped around him, hanging on for dear life and sheer pleasure. Hugging and him unable to move away. I hoped there were a lot of curves so I could lean hard against him and maybe feel his warmth, even through leather jackets. I pictured my jeans gripped on both sides of his, squeezing him a little. Squeezing him a lot.
One way or another I was going to tease this guy into at least one real kiss. A hundred would work, too.
Chapter 34
After Henna left I went home to gather things, filled with restless energy and hot thoughts of the ride. Motorcycles turned me on, no way around it. Especially with a stunning girl snuggled behind me, arms and legs clinging tight. Keep it together. Seduction through courtship, not through sexy motorcycles rides.
I gave her a few instructions, she settled herself tight behind and we headed straight for the road to Mount Baldy. I didn't pull over, which had the twin effects of helping me maintain my cool while feeding the fire that sweltered in both of us. And hid the fact that I rode the whole distance fangs out.
Afterward, while she was removing her helmet, she made the casual suggestion that if I were around, she might invite me over after the Tavern. I took the helmet, trying to decide how to handle this. Threatening and dangerous, given the fire and fangs. Enticing victory, too.
Advance and retreat. “I'll be out front when you get off work. Good?”
She nodded. “Sure. We can have a glass of wine and talk about future rides.”
“So it wasn't too scary?”
Her eyes widened. “Scary like a roller coaster that makes you scream and get in line again.”
Oh God, I had to stop thinking about her. I stored the motorcycle away and hung up leather jackets. Did some push ups and sucked three lemons and realized I'd grown irritable. No need to wonder why. The inner smoldering from glorious hours of her body pressed against mine had reached flashpoint. I gave in gladly. No more waiting. It’s time for some modern style courting. Starting tonight.
Was there something off about that? Nope. Henna said she wants kisses and she'd get them. I intended to heat up that exquisite body and spin her into a world of passion like she has never known. I was so ready for it I could spit.
Speaking of spit….
I didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that thirst had turned my attempts at a banal smile into something considerably more predatory. I seldom let much time pass without taking care of business and with Henna tightening my lower regions, I'd better feed. I make it a solid rule never to dine local. Rules are made to be broken.
The time just after dusk was perfect for prowling. I’ve never hunted Upland, the city just east of Claremont. I have scouted it though. It’s a nice community with thousands of healthy residents, some of whom jog regularly after work. Even on a Sunday evening, it wasn’t hard to find a solitary food source taking himself out for a good run.
Leaving my car on a side street, I followed for a few minutes then surged ahead and took him on a dark stretch, pulling him behind a stand of tall shrubs that border so much of Upland’s property.
Ah hell, I wanted to satiate, wanted to let go and drink it all, but for years I've worked hard to avoid doing so. Unfortunately, being who I am, the temptation never lessens, so my dark side was locked deep. I thrust aside the brutal inclination to conquer totally and subdued the jogger to unconsciousness, using effective and harmless nerve pressure this time. His heart rate was high, so when I dropped my fangs for the quick neck stab, blood welled fast.
The change of pace was pleasant, no need to soothe and comfort, merely take and satisfy. Do no damage and finish quickly. No harm in luxuriating, however. How could I not? The man's unconscious body rolled on the soft grass and I, wrapped like glue around him, imbedded hard in him, rolled too, both hearts pounding with the same rich blood.
Ten minutes later I bit again, precisely entering the two raw holes on his neck. I like to be thorough. Just as my saliva 'disappeared' caffeine, it would erase all evidence of the attack. The skin on his neck might itch, be a little red, but that’s a normal effect of insect bites. Heh.
I left him to puzzle out why he was lying on the grass instead of jogging along the street. I could have twisted his ankle to give him a reasonable cause for his 'fall'. I’ve done that before, but he’s a coordinated and athletic man. I hated to ruin his next week of running just because I got thirsty.
I sprawled on the back seat of my car for a bit, basking in the power of blood. On the short drive back to Claremont, filled with both my adrenaline and his, I caught my image in the car mirror and saw a nice guy. Amazing what a little food will do to a surly vamp.
Just after midnight we stood in the doorway of Henna’s house and I chuckled at her frustration. Her fierce watchdog was crouched, eyes peering up at me, butt wiggling hopefully. It was my second time to see the dog, though - of course - only Sonar and I knew about the first time.
Hard to resist teasing Henna. “Cute little watch pup.” I squatted and took Sonar’s muzzle between my hands. I leaned close and smiled. The dog froze, seeing not a smile, but only sharp alpha teeth. He flipped to expose his belly. I rubbed it a couple of times then closed my lips, releasing him. Rewarding scratch behind the ears and he was up, submissive but happy. A proper welcome, in my eyes.
Henna was scowling. “He barks at the mailman, the neighbors, at everyone and everything. We always have to quiet him. I expected him to growl and be all o
ver you, not grovel like a helpless poodle.”
I shrugged. “Perhaps he likes me.”
“Yeah, but I thought he’d be like the dog at the coffee shop. He always growls when you're around.”
I wasn’t surprised she mentioned that again. Probably should seek the dog out when the owners weren’t home and take care of canine business. On the other hand, why bother.
“Brecken, believe me, Sonar is protective. He’s been well trained, plus it’s his nature. That’s one of the main reasons Christina got him. He lets us know someone is around and fusses about it until we tell him to shush up.”
“He fusses at everyone except me, apparently.” I laughed. And I laughed harder. And Henna scowled harder.
“It’s not funny.” She leaned over to love the dog.
“Yes, it is. Sorry I spoiled your fun.” I couldn’t stop laughing.
And then she joined me. “Okay, you win. I just can’t believe he was so meek. Almost like he knows you….”
Her eyes turned sharp and she looked up at me. I couldn’t keep the glee out of my eyes. Let her think whatever she wanted. “Henna, do we stand in the doorway all evening or do I get to come in?”
She made a face at me and marched towards the kitchen. I followed, but she was tense and there was no resisting one more tease. “Time for a nervous glass of water?” She glared. I smirked.
Then she stuck out her tongue, wiggling the end, and my body reacted. I was swept with a need to touch her, to press my lips to her hair, to her eyes, to her neck. Gentle but insistent, I eased my arms around her and did all of those things. Her response took my breath. Unafraid, she leaned into me.
“Is your cousin coming home?” My lips tickled her ear and her body quivered. Obvious that she was wanting. And I was wanting. I brushed her lips with my fingers, then her chin and throat. I stroked my hand down her back, settling at her waist, feeling the swell of woman's hips. The rise of her butt. Sensuous. Inviting. But I stopped myself. My eyes bore into hers and she moaned, low, almost not there. My mouth lingered across her eyes, down her nose, and back to her ear. I drew her closer, my arm around her back, pulling her in. “Your cousin?” I whispered, breath at her ear.
“No.”
“No,” I tracing my lips along her hairline as it arched above her ear. “No one here but us, Henna.” Her hair curled against my face and I sucked in the soft scent.
She pulled back slightly, eyes nervously tracking mine, back and forth, pleading silently. My insides were melting and she was even more tense.
I tugged the glossy curls. “Don’t be afraid of me, Henna. Not ever.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she breathed heavily, leaning harder into me. She brushed light kisses across my chin and down my neck, as I had done to her. I trembled, fighting the twin passions inside, then hugged her hard, opening my neck to her soft mouth and her suddenly aggressive lips. And all of her tension melted into me.
I turned my head, wanting to think and finding it impossible. We’d been here a scant ten minutes and in those minutes I had already blown across the safety lines erected so carefully to keep myself sane. With all my careful courtship, all I wanted was Henna. And more Henna. My vampire flared, urging me, and my body began to obey.
I gripped her head, slanting it against my chest, her lips full and waiting. The need surged in waves and I buried my mouth against hers, feeling her arms tighten, her body responding. Soft kisses turned hard with aching drive, my pulse throbbed and melt turned to boiling lava.
Overwhelmed, dropping constraints, I lifted her from the tile floor and shoved her back to the wall, straining myself against her. My hand stroked along her leg, finding the roundness of her behind. I squeezed and rolled the swell of her in my palm, then moved my fingers hard over the inner seam of her jeans. She gasped sharply, her eyes half closed and I licked her mouth, sucked her tongue between my lips and tasted. Under my mouth Henna moaned and her normal barriers slipped, irresistible energy swelling around me, compelling me. I followed the call.
Skin tingled as I molded to her. I sucked at her tongue, pulling it next to mine, dancing around it, then released and plunged my own, in and out, a rhythmical suggestion every bit as obvious as my grinding against her. She made little throat sounds, little mews, and I moved to lick just under her chin. When she breathed out, I sucked in her air, taking her breath, wanting to take more. To give more.
All control stripped away and suddenly my fangs were free, ready for the expected and inevitable next step. Desire whipped and churned, demanding Henna. All of Henna. A raging hunger for her, a devastating hunger, and it came from both sides of me. The danger was here and now and unrelenting. I gave in to the ravenous urge, the thought of it, the idea of it, the craving for her. I throbbed, and my lips slid smoothly to my favorite place, just under her ear.
No!
My mind screamed at my body, and I jerked my mouth from her neck, panting and glaring at nothing, human struggling to assert dominion. This was a feeding, oh yes. But not that kind. Control was impossible yet crucial, when one type of kiss led naturally to the other, when it always had, all of my long life. I railed against that other me and the fangs slowly retracted, slipping back, almost contained and hidden again.
But Henna rejected the backing off. She wrapped fingers in my hair, pulling my face to hers and I crushed her against the wall again, lifting her legs high around my waist, rubbing myself into her and feeling her surrender. My hand under her rear, fingers at that inner seam, easier now, open access, tongue penetrating her mouth, caressing, seeking. The world spun, the world slowed, the world narrowed to this and only this.
She shook and twisted her head, lips open, her tongue moving into me, no hesitation. Sweetness flooded my senses. The feel of her, the taste. A slick glide and the fangs were out. I almost pricked. Almost, wanting that other taste. Knowing it was mine for the taking. I closed my lips and her tongue bathed them, wet, tasty. I licked, savoring the sweet moisture and, fangs sealed again, my lips opened to her. Her tongue roamed my mouth and I surged, lost control and grabbed her hair, pulling her chin up to expose the hot tenderness of her throat.
Helpless, I nipped at her skin, not breaking, but marking the spot. The sweet spot. The hot, pulsing spot. She gasped, thrashing her head against the wall. Too late. Hungrily I licked the spot I had chosen - the warm, luscious target. I dropped my head against her, hand gripping the back of her neck, her body braced on me and the wall, open and scorching and all mine.
My vampire exulted and my human agreed. This! Yes! Both of me wanted this and more. First this, then the rest, here in the kitchen, on the floor, the table, against the roughness of this wall. I would have all of Henna. I writhed against her and she tugged at my back, her desire heaving like my own.
Some human speck of me roared. Henna is not food! I had to stop. I couldn’t stop. I needed to stop. There could be no stopping!
Desperately, in the last seconds, as my fangs poised close, as she called my name, as the need soared through my being, clouded my vision, razed the last restraints - desperately I cast out for any line, any help. Anything at all that would keep my teeth from her throat.
Something heaved against my leg and, distantly, I heard Sonar’s claws scrabbling on the floor, heard her rumble and whine. And ahh, I understood. Conflict for the dog. It wasn’t fair. How was a good watchdog to protect his mistress from his alpha? How was I to protect Henna from myself? I couldn’t. I had to. She had to be safe. I promised her. No reason to be afraid of me. I had promised myself.
I clamped my lips, my breath blowing across the dampness where I had targeted and licked and teased myself before giving sway to the penetration of fangs.
Could I stop at this late stage, so close. Could I swerve, release her, let her feet drop to the floor, let her body fall away from me? Could I stand back and leave both of me shaking? Needing? Yes, I could. I could refuse to go on, even as she urged and agreed to go on, not understanding what she actually agreed to. I cou
ld deny us both. I could do this. But it had to be now, or it would be never.
Fierce with anguish, I twisted her off me, gasping and struggling with myself - and finally winning. She staggered against me, arms tight around my neck. Gritting my teeth, I tugged and thrust her away, shaking my head at her, glued to her eyes, her face. I slammed my vampire down and moved back from Henna, determining to make the proper excuses and leave.
She stepped towards me, confusion in her eyes. Passion swept across her face. She stopped, a scant two feet away. And suddenly she blazed. She dropped the last vestige of her vital, protective blocks and reached out for me, the tentacle waves of energy coursing over and through me. The intensity was overwhelming. Her power reached inside, pulling at me. Wanting something from me. Wanting me. I stood frozen, statued like that first night in the Tavern and under her window on campus. I had almost forgotten.
My chest heaved as I bore into the depths of her startled eyes. This was like then, I thought in some rational corner of my mind. But, it wasn’t just that. There was more. Much, much more. I felt the hook in my flesh, in my heart, in every fiber. I felt the suck of energy pour between us.
In shock, I realized this was a new aspect of Henna. This was connected to the energy I send her. It was incredible, a newer, more intense surging from her and it was beautiful.
I turned my head and forced myself to step back, half dazed, my body hard and hungry, not knowing what to do. I struggled to contain, but my dark self turned traitor and the fangs floated free again. Lips tight, I glanced at her, fearful she had seen.
And every part of Henna was glowing Silver.
Mon Dieu, could she see what I see? Did she know what she was doing?
But, yes, she had noticed. Her eyes strayed down, saw what I saw between us. Her mouth dropped as she traced the flow of her own energy reaching out, blending into mine, connecting with me, attracting and holding me. It was fast, only an instant, then her eyes widened and her powerful walls crashed into place.
Silver Page 20
