by K. L. Kreig
But he knew. Mike had made a sport out of keeping people from getting too close to him. Jake always tried and Mike always pushed back. And no one had made it past those roadblocks…until Giselle. She’d changed him in ways she didn’t even realize.
He wanted to be a better man. For her.
He wanted to get his shit together. For her.
And he desperately wanted to unburden himself from this fucking boulder of revenge that had been weighing him down like a permanent set of cement shoes for the last eleven years. For both of them.
He loved being a cop. It was in his blood, but he’d been doing it for all the wrong reasons.
Danger.
Revenge.
Guilt.
Mainly guilt. A feeble attempt to make up for his past transgressions with regard to Jamie. So he wasn’t sure he was ever going back.
“I don’t know, man,” he finally responded.
“What the fuck do you do all day? Eat bonbons and watch soap operas?”
Jake didn’t know anything about vampires. There were days he longed for that ignorance again, but those days were now farther apart, because had it not been for vamps, he never would have met the woman he was now head-over-heels in love with. Even if she didn’t feel the same way.
Not for the first time, he had to wonder if what had happened with Jamie had somehow led him to Giselle. And that guilt tore him apart inside because she’d suffered so much at the hands of the devil himself.
“Pretty much. Young and the Restless is getting pretty good. Billy’s daughter got killed in a hit-and-run by none other than his wife’s brother, Adam. Now Adam’s gone missing, presumed dead, but he’s not. They never recovered the body. It’s some twisted shit, bro.”
Jake gaped at him. “Wow…you’ve really gone and grown a pussy.”
He laughed. “I’ve always had one. I’m just embracing it now.”
“Waitress!” Jake yelled. When she sauntered over to their table in her too-low-cut tiny white tee and almost indecent black skirt, Jake ordered. “Two shots, please. Wild Turkey. This guy’s dick clearly needs regrowin’. And keep ’em comin’ sweetheart.”
He hated this dingy, dirty bar that some stupid fuck with absolutely no creativity had named The Bar, but it was within three blocks of his house, so it was a quick walk home. Old habits die hard. Cop or not, he wasn’t about to get behind the wheel after having even a couple of beers. And definitely not after shooters. Plus, they did have decent live music, which was playing a little too loudly in the background.
He enjoyed his guys’ night with Jake, but he was also here avoiding one pissed-off female. Giselle had called and texted him several times in the last day, but he’d not returned any of them. And he’d kept conveniently away from his house because he had no doubt she would probably stalk him there. And if he ran into her tonight, he hoped to be too drunk to care if she rebutted him again.
A pussy move? Perhaps. But she’d seriously pissed him off when he’d woken up the other day to find her gone. After he’d laid his soul bare, making himself more vulnerable than he’d ever been in his entire life. And he wanted her to suffer a little like she’d made him suffer.
Yes, he was a vindictive asshole. Or a fucking fraidy-cat. Take your pick.
“To our dicks,” Jake toasted, holding up his shot glass.
“May they grow,” he cheerfully replied before throwing the burning whiskey back.
Half an hour and four shots later, all heads turned toward the entrance when a simply stunning, curvy blonde walked in wearing clothes that were a man’s wet dream. And his fuzzy brain was immediately on alert. This beautiful and deadly creature with the arresting green eyes and porcelain skin was clearly vampire.
A sharp slap to his pec by his former partner’s hand had him wincing. “Holy fuck. Who the hell is that, bro?”
Someone who’s looking for a tasty liquid meal.
“How the hell should I know? This isn’t fucking Cheers where everybody knows your name.” Although Charlie, the bartender, and two of the waitresses knew his pretty goddamned well.
“Dude, she’s coming over here,” Jake whispered excitedly.
Great.
She-vamp sat at their table without invitation. Christ, the gall of vampires irritated the fuck out of him. She may come wrapped in pretty packaging, but she was venomous and deadly as a rattlesnake hiding in the brush, waiting to strike and kill its unsuspecting, innocent victim.
“Buy me a drink,” her silken voice purred to Jake. A demand. Not a question.
Before Mike could tell her to pound sand, Jake piped up. Clearly his dick was enjoying the potent whiskey. “What’s your poison, doll?”
Mike could hardly contain the eye roll. There were so many things wrong with that question, he couldn’t even begin to count.
Her gaze flicked to the more than a half-dozen empty small glasses sitting in front of them and back to Jake. “Looks like I need to catch up. I’ll have what you’re having.”
Jake tried flagging down the waitress, but she was clearly enjoying the ass fondling currently being given to her by the tatted, wifebeater-wearing biker dude two tables over, so Jake went to the bar himself to retrieve the shots.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Mike snapped, “You should look elsewhere for dinner, sweetheart.”
He didn’t know what to expect for a response, but a broad, shit-eating grin was not it. She-vamp leaned back in her chair, rhythmically tapping her fingers against the worn, sticky table. “Are you offering instead, human?”
Shit…should he deny his friend the intense pleasure a vampire bite could bring? Just thinking of how hard he’d orgasmed with Giselle’s mouth on him made him uncomfortably hard.
Yes. Yes, he was cockblocking his friend. He didn’t know this female and while Mike may be more accepting and willing to admit not all vamps had evil intentions, he was far from blindly trusting them.
“Fuck no. There are plenty of unsuspecting humans—and maybe some suspecting ones—you can find. But my friend isn’t one of them.”
Her nose wrinkled a bit when she answered, “He’s a big boy. I think we’ll let him decide for himself.”
“I—”
He was cut short when Jake returned with a tray of amber-filled glasses, precious liquid sloshing over the sides in his haste to return to the dangerous beauty he thought he would bed tonight.
Shit. Now what?
Just then, he felt a charge in the air. It was electric and every hair follicle he had stood on end. His cock hardened painfully and his blood sang. Slowly, he turned his head toward the entrance and standing just inside, sights set firmly on him, was the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. In the flesh. Everything and everyone else faded away.
How did she find him here?
He almost didn’t care. She’d tracked him down and that’s all that really mattered. She was here and she was a fucking glorious sight, looking all pissed and shit. He felt fury radiating from her across the twenty-five feet that separated them. Her gaze flicked to the yet unnamed female sitting at their table and he couldn’t help the slow smile that turned his lips. Green jealousy swirled with the icy blue of her eyes, making them a mesmerizing jade color that he could clearly see from here.
In a blink, she was standing at their table, hands on her luscious, curvy hips. She looked absolutely ravishing in the skintight, barely-there black dress and leopard-print heels she wore. Christ, she was simply amazing. Every cell in his body screamed mine when he looked at her. And the possessive vibe and sharp daggers shooting from her eyes echoed the same feeling in her.
“Who the fuck is this?” she fumed. Every ripple of toned muscle she held in check mesmerized him. His cock strained, aching to get to the woman who owned every part of him.
“She’s nobody.” His eyes never left hers. He was done with this shit. She was coming home with him and she would be his. At the first sight of her standing across the room, his patience snapped. He was done waiting fo
r her to make a decision. It was being made for her.
“Why haven’t you returned my calls or messages?” Her words were filled with venom, but hurt visibly strained her beautiful pixie features. He suddenly felt like a bastard.
Throwing sixty bucks on the table to more than cover his drinks, he stood, grabbed her by the hand, and began dragging her protesting ass to the exit. Screw Jake. He was a big boy and could handle himself just fine. Hopefully, Mike wouldn’t find his body in the sparse trees outside this shithole tomorrow, but he wasn’t about to waste another minute letting Giselle flounder in the wind.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled as they left the shabby building.
Pulling her around the corner, where it was dark and private, he pushed her up against the paint-chipped wood, trapping her in place with his body. Taking her face in his hands, he pushed his throbbing erection against her perfectly aligned core.
“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago.” Feathering kisses along her jaw, he took her mouth in a bruising kiss. “I’m going to take you home and fuck you stupid until you scream for me, Giselle. I’m going to fuck every other man out of your head and replace every single bad memory with nothing but pleasure. With nothing but love. With nothing but me.”
Reaching his hands under her short hem, he pushed aside her panties and found her soaking pussy. Without waiting for invitation, he pushed two fingers in, circling his thumb on her swollen clit. He swallowed her moan with his mouth, whispering against her lips, “And don’t tell me you don’t want this or you’re not ready. Your pussy is weeping for me.” Not stopping the movement of his fingers, he continued, “You’re mine, and tonight I’m going to prove to you that I’m yours. You can trust me with both your body and your heart, Giselle.”
His assault was brutal and the clenching of her walls indicated she was close to tipping. Nipping her earlobe hard, she exploded around his fingers, digging her nails into his shoulders so hard, he was sure she’d leave bloody crescent-shaped marks. But he didn’t care. Bring it, babe. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. She was scared and scarred, but she trusted him or she wouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t have sought him out. She wouldn’t keep coming back.
Feathering kisses along her neck, he pulled back and looked into her heavy, sated eyes, once again laying his heart at her feet for the crushing. “God knows I tried to fight this, but I’m done. I’m a complete and total goner and you own me, Giselle. All of me. You’ve wrecked me for anyone else. I fucking love you. It will ruin me if you walk away from me again.” Pausing, he murmured, “You are mine. Come home with me.” He wanted to say forever but stopped short. He’d already said enough to drink himself into a coma for a month should she turn and abandon him again.
After several tense moments, just when he thought she’d reject him yet again, she grabbed and clung to him instead, and finally whispered the one little word he’d longed to hear for months.
“Okay.”
8
Giselle
She’d agreed to come home with him, but fear bubbled hotter than Hades in her veins with every step they took toward Mike’s house. It was dense and cloying and suffocating, and she hated every fucking second of that useless emotion.
“You’re shaking, baby,” Mike said gently against her cheek before his soft lips landed on her chilly skin. His concern calmed her slightly.
“I am not.”
He chuckled, pulled her closer, but let it go. He quietly ushered her the rest of the three blocks. With each push of her foot off the concrete, the mental sludge she was sinking in became thicker and trickier to shove through.
And by the time they made it up the two steps and he opened the door to lead her inside, she froze. Couldn’t move a muscle.
She wanted this. Wanted him more than anything she’d ever wanted in her long life. She was tired of feeling lost and adrift. Tired of being lonely. Tired of being scared. Plain tired.
But walking through that entrance meant more than just letting a male inside her body again. It meant letting him inside her mind, her heart. It meant revealing things about herself she didn’t want anyone to know, let alone her Fated.
One more footfall meant no going back. Then he would discover how filthy dirty she was. Horribly used and discarded. Scarred. He’d reject her.
She couldn’t handle his disgust and disdain.
She couldn’t do this.
Next thing she knew, she was spinning through the air and her back landed with a thud against the steel grey siding. Mike’s determined face was just inches from hers, her cheeks squeezed between his manly hands. She loved his domination. He was controlling and caring in the same breath. He pulled her back to him each and every time these fucking insecurities made her drift away.
“Whatever excuses you have for running again, fucking leave them at the door, Giselle. I want you. I’m in love with you. Every tough-as-nails and every brittle piece of you. No matter what happened in your past that doesn’t change. You got it?”
“Get off me.” She fought, but it was halfhearted at best. Still, he held steadfast, knowing she was bluffing. Knowing she just needed a little more coaxing. More time. More convincing. Just more.
Stepping into her, he pinned her body between his and the house. “No. Not this time.”
She let her eyes and voice harden, but stopped her fruitless struggle. “You’re a fucking asshole. Anyone ever tell you that?”
The corner of his mouth kicked up which made hers tug. “Maybe once or twice. But I’m your fucking asshole.”
“You’re not mine.”
When his nose dipped and ran erotically down her cheek and up her jawline, her pussy wept in anticipation. The orgasm back at the bar wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. It was a taste. An appetizer of pleasure she’d lived without her entire life. Now she wanted the whole damn smorgasbord, including a big ol’ slice of dessert.
In that moment, an epiphany hit her hard and fast.
She’d visited hell every time a male violated her. She’d thought pieces of her remained there, scattered forevermore. She couldn’t be more wrong. Over these past few months, Mike Thatcher had picked through the thousand broken shards of lost dreams and unending hopelessness and put her back together, excruciating piece by excruciating piece. The edges didn’t line up perfectly yet, but he subtly shifted around the slivers so they would eventually.
All this time, he’d been fixing her and she hadn’t realized it.
“I’m yours whether you want me or not, baby. I’ll be yours ’til the day I die and no one else’s. Not ever.” His whispers rained over her like healing mist, each one washing away more remnants of shame. “Tell me I’m yours, Giselle. Fuck, I need to hear it so damn bad.”
His eyes desperately searched hers. As she was vampire, she had him beat in sheer physicality, but he was far and above a soldier in all other respects. Mentally, spiritually, emotionally.
He was strength enough for them both. She knew that now. Able to carry her when she couldn’t carry herself. She needed to let him. It didn’t make her pathetic or vulnerable. It didn’t make her powerless. It made her powerful. It meant her past didn’t win.
Their souls aligned. Fit perfectly. His darkness matched hers, but his goodness brought warmth and radiant light she’d never experienced before. He was the anchor when she floated. He was the solace when she freaked. He was hope illuminating the bleakest parts of her soul.
“You’re mine,” she whispered so softly she didn’t think he’d hear.
His lids dropped in what she could only say was sheer relief, but when they opened, he was all fire and lust. “Say, I want you, Mike. Say my name when you tell me that. You never fucking say my name and I want to hear it.”
Vibrations of fear and anticipation skittered across her skin when she uttered words she’d never uttered before to a male. “I want you, Mike.”
“Giselle.” He dropped his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. “I wa
nt inside you so fucking bad.”
“I’m…”
Her anxiety swung heavy between them, but he knew.
He knew.
“I know, baby. It’s okay. Let me take care of you. I want to drown them, Giselle. Your ghosts, your demons, your memories, your fears, so you know nothing but my touch. My scent. My voice. My safety. My love. Me. No one else. Let me obliterate each and every last beast that’s holding that beautiful mind captive.”
“Mike…” She wanted everything he just promised. The tang of his vow made her taste buds water in hope, but fear—that sadistic fucker—left its bitter and fiery hint behind.
“Trust. Me,” Mike demanded between kisses that were becoming more urgent. “You are safe with me, Giselle. I won’t hurt you. You. Are. Safe.”
When his eyes connected with hers again, she swallowed hard.
Who wins?
Past or future?
Us or them?
Panic momentarily bit at her, the unwanted sensation threatening to slice apart a future she desperately wanted, but then his next softly spoken plea made her decision easy. “Don’t let them win, baby. Don’t let them take you from me. Fight for me, for us.”
He was right. Of course, he was. He may not have known specifics, but he would. She would eventually tell him and she had to believe he would still accept her, love her. Trusting someone completely with every part of you, including the impurities of your past, was a scary proposition, but she had to. Her only other choice was to walk away again. And she was just plain tired of walking away from him as though he didn’t matter when he was all that did.
He saw the second she caved because his mouth was bruising hers. This time, she didn’t push him away. Instead, she dragged him closer, needing him fused to her so nothing could tear them apart.
“We good?” he asked even as he was picking her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and carrying her inside his house.
