Deadly Encounters (Raina Kirkland Book 4)

by Diana Graves

Another little “wow” escaped my lips when we approached our table. It was littered with shiny red confetti and had a lovely hand-written welcome note from the owner.

  “You come here often?” I asked as I scooted into the booth.

  Alistair sat close beside me, our thighs touching. “No, not often. Just a few times,” he said before he looked back up at our server, a young male dressed in black.

  “What can I start you out on? I highly recommend our Nutrient Infused Darkened Blood. It has a rich, metal flavor and is served in a heated dish with your choice of soup spoon or straw.”

  “That sounds amazing!” I said instantly.

  “It’s pretty good, but I think I’ll have the Red Martini Styled River of Life. Now that is a superb drink.”

  The waiter smiled and bowed his head before turning back to me. “Miss?”

  “Oh, I’ll have that first thing you said. Mmm,” I said, rubbing my tummy in anticipation.

  “Very good, I’ll leave the menus with you and bring your orders right away.”

  “Thank you,” I chimed as the waiter walked away. I turned to my menu. “I never thought blood could come in so many ways.” And we tried almost all of them!

  Fancy blood drinks, such as the Red Orbit, a hearty scoop of frozen blood served in a metal dish floating in a bowl of dry ice and water, so smoke would cascade out of the bowl and down, around our table. I particularly enjoyed the Bloody Espresso, a caffeinated confection in which blood is percolated through coffee grounds instead of water! Funny how blood made food tolerable. Alistair ordered a foamy pink drink that came in a tall glass called The Pink Monster; blood that had been frothed to within an inch of its life. Blood Chips, Hazelnut Drip, Candied Red Drops, Salted Blood Toffee, Blood Americano, and then, Blood on the tap; which meant your server opened up a vein for you. I didn’t feel comfortable with that one just yet, and Alistair respected that.

  “Tell me,” I began as I wiped the blood from my lips onto my black napkin and set it on the table. “When you called everyone tonight, how did they react?”

  “I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.”

  “Priorities,” I said simply. “Family first—then end of the world shit.”

  “Well—I didn’t get much of a reaction at all, really. I couldn’t reach Detective Fillips or Sherriff Mato. I was forced to leave messages for them. All of the master vampires I spoke with said they would put their collectives on lockdown until further notice. No one wants to risk the human population pointing fingers and guns at them. I’ve called my entire collective home, too.” he said.

  “That’s smart, but it’s weird that neither Fillips nor Mato were available tonight, right?”

  “Not really. I have Fillips on speed dial, but she rarely takes my calls. And if Melvern is experiencing trouble, Mato is likely helping him take care of it.” He put his hand in mine, warmed by all the blood we’d consumed.

  He smiled. “People never really know the kind of impact a single person has on their life until they’re forced to go on without them. And by then it’s too late to give them the recognition and love they deserved. People, like your mom, who didn’t seem to care enough for you, they changed when you died. Your dad changed and your oldest brother, Tristan. You left everyone with so many regrets. I was left with regrets, too,” Alistair said before he moved in for a long kiss.

  ♦♦♦

  When we left Nox our veins were pleasantly filled, our lips were stained the brightest red and Alistair’s bank account was a couple hundred dollars lighter.

  “I think I’m blood drunk,” I giggled. “Is that a thing?” I asked him. I was leaning on him, and he was holding onto me tight as we waited for the valet driver to bring the car around.

  “It’s a thing,” he said with a smile. “For young vamps.”

  I bit my lip looking up into his face. His lips were so plump and red and kissable. I got up on my tip-toes to kiss him, but his head moved before our lips could touch. He was looking across the street. I followed his gaze to see a group of five men staring at us and making rude gestures. They were bundled up warm in multiple layers, while Alistair and I stood in the blistering cold of winter wearing nothing but light casual garments.

  “Sick fucking animals!” one of the men yelled before he started coming toward us. One of the other men tried to pull him back by his arm. He yanked it free, but stayed put. “Nah, man, these fuckers are fucking disgusting. Hey!” he yelled our way. “Go back to Transylvania, you piece of shit freaks.”

  My eyes narrowed on him, my blood boiling with anger, but there was little we could do about it except put up with it until the valet came back with our car. Even if all we did was defend ourselves with our words, we’d be risking our lives. If we pissed them off, they could report us, make up any story they liked, and it’d be their word against ours. And if found guilty of whatever crime these scum bags could think of, there was only one form of punishment handed down to non-humans. The MARK, or mandated right to kill. A MARK basically gives any hunter the authority to kill the marked individual on sight for a sizable reward. It was a highly corrupted and abused bit of law. Even so, America was still one of the most preternatural friendly countries, alongside Canada, England and Japan.

  “I’d give you something to suck, if you weren’t such a fucking whore!” the man yelled at me directly, and his friends erupted with laughter from behind him.

  I rolled my eyes at him. He and his friends were too pathetic for words. There weren’t that many nocturnal restaurants in Seattle, so the fact that they just so happened to be standing there when we came out meant that they were probably waiting for vampires to come out so they could harass them. They seriously had nothing better to do with their lives on a Saturday than behave like complete dick losers in the middle of the night.

  Alistair and I were doing a good job of not reacting to their taunts until the first rock hit Alistair in the arm, then another hit my thigh, his chest, his face. A low growl rumbled through Alistair’s chest and he moved to advance on the men, but I held onto him. He didn’t have to respect that. He could have easily pulled out of my grip, but he didn’t.

  “No, Alistair, he’s not worth it,” I said. It’s not like the rocks hurt all that much.

  Luckily we didn’t have to take their abuse any longer, because his Porsche pulled up in front of us just then. Even those degenerates across the street couldn’t seem to bring themselves to damage such a lovely automobile. We drove away in style while they stood in the cold to wait for other patrons to exit.

  FINALLY!

  ALISTAIR’S BEDROOM WAS luxurious in a darkly modern sort of way; architecturally clever dark woods, thick rich fabrics, mind bending artwork. He sat on his four-post California king sized bed, all too pleased with himself. He was still fully dressed when I grabbed the bottom of my heavy bra and lifted it up and over my head. This was long overdue, yet my heart raced while I undressed in front of him. After everything I’d been through, being naked and vulnerable was the last thing I wanted, so of course I had to be that. I always had to push my own buttons. Sometimes I felt like Marty McFly, but instead of some jerk punk calling me chicken, it was me. I was my own jerk punk.

  I walked to the bed, out of Alistair’s reach, and sat down. I crossed my legs and leaned back. “Your turn,” I said with an incline of my head and a wide smile.

  “You call that a strip tease?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m sure you can teach me better.”

  And there it was, a smile I’d never ever seen on Alistair’s face before. Half devious, half eager, almost scary. It made my heart jump to my throat.

  “It’s all about anticipation,” he said softly, his voice changing from smartly British to a hushed deeper thing. My eyes went sort of lazy as I looked at him.

  He stood up and walked to the light-switch on the far wall. After pushing down on the bit of plastic the room went dark. The only light was coming from the moon outside the open window, a soft co
ol glow. He looked back at me from over his shoulder and the look on his face made me press my legs together and exhale sharply. He was undoubtedly the sexiest man I’d ever seen in my life.

  He advanced on me until he was practically on top of me, forcing me to lay flat on my back. Without touching me, he moved his body over mine, inhaling deeply along my neck. “I can touch you, but you can’t touch me,” he said. “Those are the rules.”

  I swallowed hard. “No fair.”

  He laughed. “That’s why it’s called a tease.” He caressed a hand down my breast, stomach and inner thigh. His eyes followed his hand, but mine never left his face. I watched him take in my body so tenderly. I wanted to kiss him. I rose up just a bit and nudged the side of his face with my nose, a cat-like gesture. He looked at me and I knew my eyes were full of want. “No touching,” he reminded me.

  I made a sound of discontent. I felt my eyebrows lightly quiver. I wanted him. I wanted to run my hands up his naked chest. I wanted to run my fingers through his long blond hair while he was deep inside me. I wanted everything he had to give. He just smiled down at me as though all my frustration was plain on my face and he found it all too amusing.

  “Well, get on with the teasing,” I said with a pout.

  He straddled my hips and leaned forward. He was hard, and his manhood was big enough that it was digging into my stomach through his slacks as he leaned in close to kiss my neck. I pushed my hips up a little so more of him was touching more of me.

  He rose up and looked down at me, still smiling. “Do you really want me to just take you now and be done with it? Like this is just another casual affair between two people.”

  “No,” I said, feeling a little hurt. “I just want to touch you.” He laughed. “Why are you laughing?”

  His face was calm and tender. Mine was confused and still a little hurt. He stroked his hand down my face and then he moved in for a kiss. It was just a touching of lips, but I didn’t want it to end. I grabbed his face with both hands and held him there until I felt him lift from the kiss.

  “Maybe we can hold off on the teasing for now,” he said.

  I nodded vigorously. “More touching, please.”

  I started unbuttoning his shirt and he just watched me do it until I reached the waist band of his pants.

  “Wait,” he said. Then he pulled away from me and stood up. In one fast jerking motion, he pulled his shirt off, popping the last few buttons and ripping fabric, before throwing it to the floor. I gasped a little at all his muscular curves and dips, the luminescent glow his skin had in the moonlight and the look of pure hunger on his face, a face almost hidden completely behind his hair. He didn’t unbuckle his belt, he pulled hard and the metal and leather gave under his strength along with the button and zipper of his slacks. He wore no underwear, so in one violent motion, he was completely nude. My heart was pounding so fast I put my hand over my chest to feel the excited vibration. I couldn’t quite decide if I was afraid or thrilled in that moment.

  I backed up a little when he crawled back onto the bed, straddling me once again. As he moved up my body I became less afraid, and more eager. Shyly, I touched him, just a light caress up his arm and down his back. He was so soft and so strong. He broke through the physical tension between us by pressing his whole body against mine and nuzzling his lips against my parted mouth. I pressed my lips into his, trying to memorize the feel of them, the taste of them.

  We weren’t in the best position for intercourse, but I loved the feel of him against my stomach, long and hard as I kissed him passionately. While he used one hand to keep himself propped up a little, the other explored my body, traveling up and down my stomach, breast, face and hair. I couldn’t keep my lips from his. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted a man more in my life. I couldn’t get enough of him, so when he pulled his mouth away from mine I let out an involuntary whimper. But his lips and tongue were soon clasped around my nipples and the sensation made me arch my back and moan my surprise and pleasure. He licked, nibbled and pulled lightly at each one in turn before crawling backwards down my body. I knew what was coming before I felt his breath hot between my legs, but I didn’t anticipate the explosion of sensation as his tongue slid over me. I screamed with even that little touch. My body bucked and he wrapped his strong arms around my thighs to hold me down.

  “Alistair,” I said as he licked me tenderly. I pulled at the blankets and bit my lips to try and hold back the screams of pleasure that wanted to flow from me. His tongue moved fast and skillfully and I just about lost my mind. I couldn’t hold back the screams anymore. I came and still he ate at me. Only when my legs began to shake violently did he stop.

  “I could do this all night,” he said.

  I looked down the line of my body at him and found him staring up at me. His piercing blue eyes burning with desire. Just the look was enough to make me throw my head back in submission.

  “Please—please don’t,” I breathed, my chest rising and falling madly. My whole body was still shaking with aftershocks.

  He leaned over me, putting himself in my line of sight, and then he kissed me and I could taste myself on his lips. He pulled me up while he kissed me, until we were both kneeling, facing each other. He moved my face to the side so he could scrape his fangs down my neck. My eyes were heavy with carnal euphoria.

  “Alistair,” I said softly. “I love you.” For some reason I felt I needed to say it, I needed him to hear it and hear the sincerity in my words. He looked up from my neck and the look in his eyes changed from lustful hunger, to something a couple degrees softer.

  He combed both of his hands into my hair and kissed me like no one had ever kissed me before, as if it would be our last. He ate at my lips with such vigor as he pushed me back against the headboard, still kneeling before him, but not for long. With his hands on my hips, he raised me up and sat me down in his lap and on his shaft. My head went back as he slowly pierced me, struggling for every inch, and every inch brought a new level of ecstasy. Once he was as deep as my body would allow, we stayed there a moment just staring into each other’s eyes and taking in the pulsing sensation. I moved first, grinding my hips against him, working him deeper into me until he was completely sheathed. He let out a low gasp.

  I started moving up and down, but he stopped me with a hand on my thigh. I looked at him and he smiled. He placed his other hand against the headboard and leaned into me, pressing my back against the board as he slid in and out of me, his eyes never leaving mine. At first it was rough, but soon enough my body opened up to him and every movement was fluid and completely carnal. I wrapped my arms around him and dug my nails into his back as his pace quickened, thick and fast and deep, and I soon came a second time. My entire body shook and shuddered. My throat hurt from crying out in pleasure. It sounded raspy to me when I said his name softly in his ear. His pace quickened once more, but with a whole new depth found. I cried out again and again until finally he thrust one last time, and released himself inside me, and all but collapsed into my arms, breathing heavily and moaning softly.

  “Raina,” he said with his cheek resting against my heaving chest. I looked down at him with a breathless smirk. Goddess that was well worth the wait. “We should have done this sooner,” he laughed.

  After holding each other and basking in the afterglow of making love for the first time, we needed to clean ourselves, because sex done right isn’t the cleanest of affairs. Alistair’s bedroom was a master bedroom. Meaning it had its own bathroom, and what a bathroom it was. It had wall-to-wall slate tile, an open standing shower and a large raised jetted tub. After Alistair filled the tub with hot water and turned on the jets, I sat myself down in front of one of those jets, and let it blast my muscles into a state of relaxation I rarely got to experience. Still nude and beautiful, he slid into the tub beside me.

  “May I wash you?” he asked me.

  I looked at him with content lazy eyes, and he took that as a yes. He grabbed a yellow sea sponge from a porcelain b
owl on a shelf by the tub, lathered it with sweet scented body wash and began gliding it over my skin, soft yet exfoliating. I moved as he asked, so he could clean every inch of me. He finished at my back and I looked back at him over my shoulder.

  “Your turn,” I said with a sly smile.

  He handed me the sponge and after giving it a fresh lather, I began washing him. I’d never had full unabashed access to a man’s body before and I took full advantage of it. I explored every inch of his body with my fingers as I moved the sponge over his skin. I couldn’t help but take my time, especially when I reached down between his legs. I ran my hand over, around and under him. When he hardened in my hand we looked at each other for only a moment before he brought me in closer for a kiss, with one hand at the back of my head. My hands traveled smoothly up his body until my fingers delved deep into his thick blond hair.

  With his free hand he guided my hips over his lap, so that I would straddle him. He pushed down on my hips, and I clenched with the feel of him filling me once again. But with the hot water washing away my body’s natural lubrication, he seemed bigger, too big. I protested the second thrust, and he picked me up and set me on the edge of the tub, well out of the water. He moved to kneel between my legs.

  “Smart,” I commented before he kissed me again.

  With one hand at my back and another on my leg, he pushed himself inside me again. Sitting on the edge of the tub made me tighter than before, but this time my body was able to compensate for the friction, a bit. He nearly crossed the barrier between pain and pleasure as he pushed in and out of me, not fast, but very deep, splashing water all over the floor. I writhed in his arms, but he did not relent his deep rhythmic thrusts until I screamed my orgasm, my body convulsing around him, and then finally he let himself go.

  He laid against my chest. “I think we need to clean ourselves again, but this time, no flirting,” I said.

  “You started it,” he laughed.

  True.