I was such a fucking loser. There I was, six foot five, curled into a five foot six woman, crying like a bloody baby.
“Shh… Just calm down,” she whispered in my ear.
After several minutes of sobbing, I finally started settling down, but only because Quinn was rubbing my back and speaking soft, kind words to me—words no one had ever said to me before.
“I’m sorry. This is very difficult. No one has ever wanted to help me or be kind to me. I’ve done so many terrible things throughout my life. So many unforgivable things.”
“I understand what you are saying, but I cannot help you if you don’t tell me how.” I sat up and she wiped the salty tears off of my face.
“I need blood,” I whispered.
“Okay. How do I give it to you?”
“I can draw a vial. But I absolutely refuse to ask you.”
“You are not asking, I am giving. Take what you need. How often?”
“A vial a day would be best, but…”
“Then that’s what you will get.” I shook my head. “Yes. No arguing. Now, go get what you need to collect a vial.”
“You are fucking amazing. Do you realize how bloody amazing you are?” Before she could move away, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers.
While she was still in shock, I stood up and went to my room to get my pack. As I turned around to head back to the living room, she was standing in my doorway.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey. I thought maybe we should do it in here.”
Uh…blood rush. Oh, wait. She was talking about the draw, not sex. Calm down, J.T. “Right. Yeah, good idea,” I murmured.
I lit a candle and she closed the door, being sure to lock it. Slowly, she made her way to the bed and sat down, looking a little timid. I wanted to be on top of her. I wanted to fuck her brains out, but I wanted it loving. I wanted to give her just a little happiness. I know I could have made her happy…at least in that way.
Quinn looked at all the supplies I was lying out on the bed. Once I pulled off my belt and sat down on the bed next to her. I prepped her arm and pulled a fresh needle out of the package, holding the vial between my lips. She closed her eyes as I promised her that I wouldn’t hurt her.
I tapped on her vein. It was beautiful—perfect and pronounced. My breath hitched as I invaded her vein. I pulled the vial out from between my lips and attached it as gently as I could. “You all right?”
She opened her eyes. “Did you start yet?” Then she looked down. “Oh. I didn’t feel a thing.”
I smiled. “Good. I’ve become quite talented with this.” We stared into each other’s eyes while her blood filled the vial. I looked down and my life was in my hands. “Do you want to watch?” I felt like I was asking her if she wanted to attend a voyeuristic adventure.
“Uh…um…I…,” she stammered.
I unhooked her. “I just drink it, get a little high, and relax. Nothing sketchy. I don’t do a dance. Or go into a trance. Or get in touch with the devil. Or start speaking in tongues. Or grow fangs. Or sparkle…” She smirked at my references.
“Okay,” she murmured.
I failed to mention I get horny as fuck after an ingestion. I would try to keep myself under control, but I couldn’t make any promises.
Sitting back against the headboard, I popped off the vial top, pulled in a deep breath, followed by a sighed exhale. I closed my eyes and tipped the vial back, feeling the warm, salty, metallic fluid flow down my throat. I sagged my head and licked my lips. I took a few deep breaths, then the rush came charging forward.
With a sharp inhale, I laid my head back against the headboard. My breathing slowed, and my spine loosened up. My muscles relaxed and my John Thomas was ready in a snap. When I opened my eyes, Quinn was close to me. I wanted to eat her up, down, and all around until she screamed my name.
“Holy shit,” she whispered. “Your eyes…”
“Green, yes?” My words were breathy.
“Yes.” She sounded amazed and sexy as hell. J.T. was pulsating and looking for a way out of my pants. “I wasn’t sure if you were being truthful, but I guess you were.” I nodded.
Leaning forward, I grabbed her hand and pulled her close. When our lips touched, I swear I felt electricity shoot through us. I greedily held her to me and crammed my tongue in her mouth, possessing her. I groaned as she moaned into my mouth. Her lips were perfection.
I laid her back and settled on top of her, rubbing my hard J.T. against her hip. Her body surged against mine, matching my movements. Feeling her body rock against mine, I let out a huge exhale into her neck. While I kissed my way down to her collarbone, she felt her way around my upper body, from my face to my shoulders to my pecks. I wanted her and my desperation was hanging over us.
“Fuck,” I barked. J.T. was so hard, it hurt. “You’re so beautiful. You are the only woman that has made me lose control.” I ran my hand down her amazing chest to her hip and she stiffened.
Recoil, recoil. Motherfucking recoil!
“Gunther…” I looked up at her. “I can’t. Please.” She squirmed out from under me and got up off the bed. “I’m sorry. I hope you understand.”
I turned over to face her. “You want this as much as I do, Quinn. I can feel it in your body, and you moaned like you were enjoying it.”
“I just… I can’t. I’m sorry.” She looked at me sadly and turned to leave me and J.T. to our own devices.
Goddamn it. Last thing I wanted to do was give myself a fucking hand job, but that was obviously going to be the bloody outcome tonight.
“Goodnight,” she said, barely audible.
“Quinn… Quinn, wait. Please.” She turned back around and I stood up. I thought maybe if I could kiss her again, she would fall into my arms.
I took two hurried steps up to her and pinned her against the wall next to the door. Our lips met, leaving us both breathless.
“I want you,” I said. Then my voice turned rough. “I need you.”
“You…you can’t always…have everything you want.” I stroked her cheek with the backs of my fingers while staring deep into her sultry brown eyes.
“Jesus Christ, Quinn. Do you have any idea what you are doing to me?” I ran my hands down to her backside and jacked her body up around my hips. She didn’t protest one bit.
I set her down on the dresser. She was panting, her luscious chest pumping against my hard and defined one. I kissed down her neck and pushed my hands up under her shirt, resting them around her waist. Her smooth skin felt so good under my harsh grip.
“Gunther…please.” She struggled against me. “Please, let me go.”
“Let me have you,” I growled.
I kissed and touched her with wild need and desire. Every time our lips met, she melted into me, then she tried to push us apart. “No…please.” Her voice cracked then her head fell into my neck. “Please…,” she said as she cried. “It’s James. I feel like I’m betraying him.”
My heart felt like it was getting stomped on every time it beat. I let her slide off the dresser as I stepped back.
“I’m sorry, but I wish you would let yourself go,” I whispered as I grabbed her face with both of my hands. My thumbs wiped away the heavy tears that were falling down her cheeks. She put her hands on mine and gently pushed me back.
I stepped back further and she opened the door, leaving me standing there alone and in misery…with an aching hard-on.
Quinn dashed out of Gunther’s bedroom and rushed into hers, slamming the door shut and leaning against it. Trying to calm herself, she took several deep breaths, but it was hopeless. She covered her face with her trembling hands and slid down the door, ungracefully falling to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her body and cried until the well went dry.
For weeks, she had unexplainable feelings for Gunther, but she pushed them away. She didn’t know what to do about them because she held out hope for James. When Gunther kissed and touched her with his heavy hands, it felt so go
od. His kisses left a fire burning deep within her core. She dropped her guard for a minute and enjoyed his possession of her body, but as soon as her brain screamed at her, she pushed him away.
Finally, she picked her emotionally-drained body up off of the floor and crawled into bed, fully-clothed. She curled her body into a ball and decided the only way she could control her feelings for him was to shut him out. She would only talk to him if necessary, which wasn’t what she wanted at all. But she felt it was something that she had to do to keep herself from traveling down that road with him. Although, she had thoroughly enjoyed the relationship that developed between the two of them. It just felt right, but she felt irrevocably torn between moving forward with Gunther and allowing her love for James to continue to keep ahold of her heart.
Quinn ended up crying herself to sleep.
After a day filled with silence and glances, I sat on the edge of my bed, my face in my hands. Admittedly, I was sulking. I heard a light rap on the door, so I dragged my arse up off the bed and opened it.
Quinn.
Her presence took my breath away no matter what transpired between us. “Hey,” I said, emotionless.
“Blood?” she asked, her gaze drifting to the floor.
It killed me that she wouldn’t even look at me. All I could think of was how much I fucked everything up with our relationship…if that’s even what we had. “Only if you want to,” I mumbled.
She dodged around me, careful not to touch me, and sat down on the edge of the bed with her arm out directly in front of her. I closed and locked the door. Focusing on the dark shadows on the wall across from the bed, I almost felt like she was offering herself up for slaughter. I just stood there staring at her, feeling sick about our situation.
“I’m tired. I’d like to get to bed.”
“Right. Sorry.”
I went to my pack and pulled out everything I needed, then turned and faced her. She glanced at my abdomen as I lifted my shirt and pulled my belt off. When my cargoes slid down, her lips parted. She wanted me and she knew it. If anyone was afraid of the feelings that were between us, it should have been me. I wanted to experience everything with her, but she was too afraid to act upon what she felt.
I knelt down and put my hands on her thighs. “Quinn, please look at me.” She shook her head and looked off to her right. I placed myself into her field of vision then she looked to the left. “Can I at least apologize?” Her jaw trembled and her eyes filled with tears. She held strong, though, refusing to cry. “Well, I’m going to whether you want to listen or not.” She tried to stand, but I had a grip on her thighs, holding her there. “I’m so fucking sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I’m experiencing things I never have before. You’ve been so kind and generous to me. I don’t even deserve to be in the same room with a woman like you, let alone the same atmosphere. I beg for your forgiveness.” I paused, waiting for a response. Nothing. “Please, say something.”
“Just do the draw so I can go to bed.” Her voice was flat and it made my chest ache.
“Yeah, sure.” I hooked her up.
Minutes later, she was running for the door.
After her door slammed, I plopped my arse back down on the edge of the bed, rolling the vial in my hands. It was a gift of life from her and I didn’t take it lightly.
I popped off the cap and tipped it back, enjoying the feeling of Quinn’s life washing through my body. I set the vial down on the nightstand and crawled into bed. With my hands behind my head, I stared at the ceiling until the rush died down.
The sound of her crying next door kept me awake for hours. My stomach ached like someone had stabbed me in the gut with a dull knife and twisted. I wanted to help her through her sadness, but didn’t know how. Plus, she made it perfectly clear to me that she didn’t want my help. I rolled on my side and wished for the night to suck me in.
Even after a few more days had gone by, she barely looked at me. She would offer herself up for the draw every night. As soon as I had her unhooked, she would run for the door. Knowing I had upset her so much was the worst feeling. I pretty much just stayed in my room, feeling sorry for myself.
I apologized to her every chance I got, but she still wouldn’t speak to me. I hated that she was so furious. I wanted nothing more than for her to accept my apology and, at the very least, say hello to me once a day. Just one hello would give me some hope that our relationship was repairable.
Chapter 20
I woke up from yet another restless sleep and stretched out on the bed. My spine and shoulders cracked and I sighed. It felt good to be limber. I looked to my left and saw it…the scar on my arm where the tracking device was implanted. A shudder went through me.
I decided that I needed to tell Quinn about it right away, whether or not she was willing to listen. I was going to make her listen. After pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, I went to her room.
When I knocked quietly, she opened the door a crack. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.” She just stood there in her tousled state, staring at me. “Please, Quinn…”
“I’m still not speaking with you.”
“Don’t make me get on my knees and beg.” I certainly would have if it meant talking to her for more than a second.
“Can it wait? I’m still sleeping.” She looked and sounded beautiful in her sleepy state.
“It’s kind of important,” I pleaded. She sighed and opened the door.
She was in a practically see-through white tank top, no bra, and her pink pretties were standing out proudly—and those shorty fucking shorts. J.T. noticed everything.
Sweet Jesus, please have some mercy on me. It was like I was being punished for being a tosser. When she bent over to grab her hoodie… Holy fucking hell. Her arse peeked out from the bottom of her shorts.
Complete hardness.
Then she spoiled my view by yanking the hoodie over the tank top. I had to jostle J.T. around while she wasn’t looking so I didn’t look like a fucking twat with a tent pitched in my jeans. I felt like a thirteen-year-old lad looking at my first Penthouse.
I lowered myself down on the edge of her bed. She sat down at the head of the bed, pulled her hair up into a messy bun, and pushed her legs under the blankets. “What’s so important?” Her voice was rough and gritty, which was sexy as hell. I wanted to be with her desperately.
I shook it off for the time being because I really needed to talk to her about my tracking device. “I failed to tell you something the other night when I was confessing my dirty truth to you.”
“And what would that be?” She looked annoyed and sounded even more annoyed.
Maybe she wasn’t a morning person. Or maybe it was me. I’m pretty sure it was me. She was annoyed with me as much as, if not more than, I was annoyed with myself.
I held up my arm so she could see the heavy, neat scar on the underside of my forearm. “A scar? You woke me for a damn scar?”
I looked at her for a moment. “It’s not a simple scar, Quinn. It’s huge.” I smirked. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. I knew she had to have remembered me rubbing myself on her hip.
“Okay, so what is it then?”
“I have a tracking device implanted in me.”
“And?”
“And?” I was shocked that she failed to grasp the gravity of the situation. “The people who did this to me can track my every move.”
“What does that mean?” Knock, knock. Was there anyone home in that beautiful noggin of hers? Maybe I should have hit up the local Starbucks before having this deep conversation.
“They can hunt me down and kill me…along with anyone else I’m with.”
Her eyes popped open. Well, hullo there. Finally, she was with me. “Soooo…now what?” she said as she sat forward.
“I was thinking we could cut it out and destroy it.”
Her jaw dropped. “Wait… You want to cut open your arm and take it out?”
“Precisely.” I smiled.
“Y
ou’re psychotic.”
“And you’re just figuring this out?” I said with a smile.
She shook her head. “I won’t get infected?”
“No. It has to be a blood/saliva mix to take effect, but I do have a box of surgical gloves with my basic medical supplies if that would put your mind at ease.”
She pondered the situation for several moments before she said, “All right. Let me clean up and dress first.”
She got up off the bed and I watched her while she sifted through her belongings—enjoying the show that the shorty shorts were giving me. She turned around when she realized I hadn’t left yet.
“Oh, right. You want me to leave?” I thumbed toward the door.
“Yes!” She threw a towel at me.
“Gosh darn it.” I playfully tossed the towel back at her. She smiled and shoved me out the door.
So close. I felt like things were getting back to where they were.
At early dawn, Josie was jarred awake by a tortured yell. Silently, she slipped out of bed and grabbed her gun. She checked under the door to see if she could see anything.
Another bellow came from somewhere in the house. Josie decided that she would investigate. She was worried something may have happened to Gunther or Quinn. Quietly, she opened the door and peered into the hall. Quinn’s and Gunther’s doors were open. He always told her to close and lock her door while she was sleeping.
Josie crept down the hall and peeked around the door into the kitchen. “Fuck! Arrrg!” Gunther ground out. His fist slammed down on the table.
“Shhh! You’re going to wake Josie up.”
“I’m sorry. It fucking hurts,” Gunther growled.
“You know, I cannot believe you. All this time and you tell me this now?”
“I was feeling guilty. Shit! And in case you missed it, we haven’t been exactly chatty as of late.” Quinn shushed him again.
In silence, Josie watched, still peeking around the doorway. She examined his shirtless, muscular physique. She couldn’t see what Quinn was doing, but Gunther was obviously in pain.
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