Gypsy: Sons of Sangue

by Patricia A. Rasey

  “You should’ve thought about that before deciding to fuck my mate.” He paused again, his voice thick. Try as he might, Grayson knew Anton cared. “She’s all yours, man. You two have a nice life.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “I have to go,” and the line went silent.

  Grayson hung his head. He had Anton’s blessing, Tamera would soon be his mate once again. But at what cost? Heading for the showers, his heart pained him. He had won the woman, but at what cost? Grayson had fucked everything up and lost his best friend in the process.

  Damn it!

  He had finally found a woman who could captivate him, make him feel things beyond the horizontal, but the cost had been so fucking high.

  Grayson now stood in front of the mirror, hating the man before him. Grabbing a pair of scissors, he began chopping away the beard he had hidden behind. Time to move forward and let the past go. There wasn’t much he could do about losing Anton’s friendship, at least not at the moment. Maybe once things settled down, Anton would find it in his heart to forgive him. His poor decisions had cost him dearly.

  He wasn’t about to lose Tamera.

  Finished with his beard, he took a rubber band from the medicine cabinet and banded his hair at the nape. Grayson picked up the scissors and cut through the ponytail, just above the band. When he was done, his hair brushed his shoulders. He couldn’t help wonder what Tamera would think. No more hiding. After his shower, he’d head for the clubhouse and speak with Kaleb. Once he received the P’s blessing, he’d seek out Vlad for his permission. Only then would he go after Anton.

  Turning on the shower, Grayson stepped beneath the spray of hot water. Too bad his sins wouldn’t wash away as easily as the sand. Maybe once he gained Anton’s forgiveness, he’d work on forgiving himself.

  * * *

  Jesus! He hated himself. His words to Grayson had been overly harsh, and they damn well needed to be. Though it didn’t make them any easier to say. He and Tamera had struck up a deal, make Grayson jealous and get him back. It had worked like a charm. Anton might have chuckled if he hadn’t felt lower than a snake at the moment. Surely, once Grayson spilled the details of their conversation to Tamera, she’ll be completely confounded.

  What the hell is with Anton?

  He had a job to do, one that didn’t involve Grayson, Tamera, or any of the drama that had been his life the past nine months. If he didn’t make a clean break, it could cost him everything. Time to pull up his boot straps and walk away.

  He walked over to the bonfire where several MC brother’s stood in a circle, passing a bottle of whiskey. Grabbing the bottle from the hand of his new found friends, he took a deep pull before holding it in the air. A round of raucous laughter followed.

  Anton passed the bottle to the guy on his left and shrugged out of his cut. He held it up, took one last look at the skull head before spitting on it, then tossing the leather into the flaming pyre. He watched as his past lit into flames and melted away all he had once held dear.

  “Atta, boy.” The man to his right patted his shoulder. “You’re one of us now.”

  Another of his new MC brothers walked around the raging fire, a new cut dangling from his hand. The top rocker displayed the clubs’ name, while the bottom listed his new home. Santa Barbara. Home of the Devils.

  He had traded his fangs for horns. Life was about to get interesting.

  Chapter 22

  Tamera dusted off the seat of her striped bikini bottoms before entering the back door of the beach house, shrugging out of the wetsuit top. Grayson should’ve finished his conversation with Anton by now, yet he had left her to sit alone on the beach. Nausea gripped her stomach as the silent house yawned before her.

  Grayson had known she worried about Anton, feared something might have happened since he wasn’t answering her phone calls or returning them. Why wouldn’t he let her know if he had gotten a hold of him? If Anton spilled the beans about their hatched plan to get Grayson jealous, which had worked like a dream, she’d murder the blond vamp. She headed for the stairs, leading to the second level. The sound of running water told her someone was in the upstairs shower. Tamera worried her lip, wondering why he might head for the showers without so much as giving her a heads up.

  One moment they were having sex in the moonlight, another they bonded over catching waves. So why leave her sitting alone by the ocean?

  Because he opens his heart to no one.

  The ugly truth of that damn near crippled her.

  He had to have known she would want to hear what Anton had been up to. If their conversation hadn’t included her, then why the sudden brush off? Tamera had taken a leap of faith in following him to the beach, hoping the night they had spent at the clubhouse meant something to him. Anything. Up until now it had worked like a dream, then guilt no doubt set in as well as his curiosity where Anton might have gone.

  Hitting the landing and heading for the bathroom, she nearly ran into Ryder, who had finally rose among the living. He wore a pair of faded jeans low on his hips, a T-shirt fisted at his side. Those crazy little muscles at his hips, prominent just above the band of his jeans, arrowed from his hips to his groin. A light sprinkling of black hair dusted his non-tattooed chest and arms. The man would certainly turn plenty of heads at the Rave.

  “Looking for Grayson?” he asked, drawing her attention up.

  Her face heated. Not that she desired Ryder, but damn, he did have a body worth viewing. She nodded, suppressing her giggle.

  Ryder thankfully ignore her faux pas. “Shower. I heard him in there clinking around awhile ago. Tell him I’m heading for town. If he needs me … call.”

  “Sure,” Tamera said as he already started down the stairs. His back, to her surprise, was not free of tattoos. As a matter of fact, there wasn’t much skin left that wasn’t covered from shorts to shoulders in ink, including the Devils’ MC tattoo still there in the center.

  The back door slammed as Ryder exited, leaving her alone once again with Grayson. Good, she didn’t need another set of supersonic ears, privy to her troubles. Tamera entered the bathroom through the wide open door. His form was silhouetted through the semi-transparent shower curtain as he rinsed his hair. Finished, he turned off the faucets. That’s when she noted the long tail of newly shorn hair in the trash receptacle beside the toilet.

  “Gypsy?”

  Grayson pulled back the curtain and grabbed a white towel from the rack, wrapping his lean waist with it. Her mouth dropped as her gaze took him in from head to… Hell, she was stuck on his head.

  “You sh—shaved.” Tamera hadn’t meant to stutter. “And your hair?”

  “Not completely.” Grayson rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I’d look like a teenager freshly shaven. The hair was long overdue, though. You don’t approve?”

  She stepped forward, smoothed a hand down his razor stubble cheek. “You know it doesn’t matter.”

  Grayson raised a brow. “Does that mean you like it? If not, I can always grow it back.”

  Her hands left his cheeks and threaded through his wet hair, which now barely brushed his collarbone instead of hanging well past his shoulders. “I forgot how handsome you were beneath all that hair.”

  “Thank you … I think. That was a compliment, right?” He chuckled, then leaned down and gave her lips a quick peck. “We need to head back to the club. You see Ryder?”

  “I passed him on my way up. He said to tell you he was going into Florence.”

  Grayson looked out the window. The sun has nearly set. “The cad probably wants to get laid, fed, or both. I’ll call him later and let him know we headed back.”

  “Is it Blondy? Is everything okay?”

  His expression masked. “I talked to him. He’s fine.”

  “Did he tell you where he’s been?”

  Grayson shook his head. “He didn’t say and I didn’t ask.”

  “Why?”

  He wet his lips, looking none-too-pleas
ed about whatever the two conversed about. “Let’s just say I’m not one of his favorite people yet.”

  “You told him?”

  “How about we drop this for now and we’ll talk later?”

  “Gypsy, if this is about me…”

  He stepped back from her touch. Tamera could see in his gaze he wasn’t telling her everything. She’d be damned if she’d wait until they arrived back at the clubhouse.

  Tamera closed the space, not allowing him to retreat. “I care about Anton, too. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “He’s not exactly happy with either of us.”

  “You told him?” Tamera crinkled her brow, unsure why Anton would be mad. “He knows—”

  “He is fully aware that I fucked you, il mio dolce rossa.”

  “You make is sound tawdry.”

  Grayson watched her, no doubt gauging her reaction. “If what we were doing wasn’t fucking, then what was it?”

  Tamera wasn’t about to allow him to cheapen it. “I thought I was making love to you.”

  “Making love?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you love me?”

  Tamera squared her shoulders. “What do you want from me, Gypsy?”

  He gripped her chin between fingers and thumb, not letting her look away. “How about the truth?”

  He couldn’t handle the full truth. Lord, if he only knew her sins…

  “I just lost a man I considered a brother tonight. I think you owe me that.”

  “What did Blondy say?”

  “Have a nice life. Fuck you.” His thumb traced over her lower lip. “She’s yours.”

  “He gave me back to you?” Her brow furrowed. “Is that even possible?”

  Grayson shrugged. “I made a decision. I gave my right to you away.”

  “But you can go to Vlad…”

  He stared at length into the depths of her eyes. What if he didn’t want her back? Didn’t want to be mated with her for eternity? Tamera hadn’t thought of the possibility. But if neither wanted her… What then? She feared Rosalee wouldn’t risk exposure by coming to her rescue and Vlad would simply take her head. Maybe it was exactly what she deserved.

  “I could.”

  He dropped his hold on her and gave her his back. The lines of his tribal tattoo ran the length of his shoulders. She wanted to reach for him, to again trace the intricate detail, but knew he wouldn’t welcome her touch at the moment. Grayson dropped the towel to the floor and stepped into a pair of jeans, before pulling a white T-shirt over his head. Tamera bit her lower lip. She couldn’t possibly give any more of herself to him and not keep her dignity.

  “Have the last few days meant so little to you?”

  He turned on his heel, backing her against the door, banging it off the wall. Scant inches separated their bodies. His gaze ringed black, telling her he was on the verge of turning. Tamera couldn’t tell if it was pure anger or desire fueling his actions.

  “Did they mean anything to you?” he growled.

  She might have slapped him had her hands not been pinned between them. “Go to hell, Gypsy. If you couldn’t tell by all I gave to you, then maybe Anton’s sentiment needs repeating. Fuck you.”

  “I’d rather be fucking you.”

  “Why?” Damn it! A tear slipped down her cheek, despite her best effort not to show her vulnerability.

  “Because you’re good at it.”

  She should not have expected more, not when she knew all along his heart was carved of stone. “You want the truth? What good would it ever do me to tell you that I’ve fallen in love with you?”

  Grayson froze. His vivid blue gaze held hers captive. “Say the words, il mio dolce rossa.”

  “Why? So you can later throw them in my face?”

  A muscle ticked in his cheek. “Try me.”

  She fisted his T-shirt. She wanted to rip the soft material from him, show him what her words might fail. Not that he’d care.

  He gripped her chin again. “Tell me, il mio dolce rossa.”

  This time the request sounded more of a plea than a demand. She couldn’t help giving him the truth and opening herself for the hurt sure to come.

  “I love you, you fool. I think I have from the day you walked into my parents’ store and offered to be Suzi’s and my entertainment.”

  He rubbed a forefinger down her cheek. “I almost forgot about that.”

  “Lord help me, Grayson Gabor, but you’re not an easy man to love.”

  Grayson framed her face with his palms and kissed her. Not a slow, soft chaste kiss. One full of possession and filled with sexual promises. Her fangs grew, passion ignited. Tamera wasn’t ready to let her time with him end just yet. She ripped the soft cotton shirt and pushed it from his shoulders, earning her a growl. The scent of his desire tickled her nose as his erection lay hot between them. Grayson grabbed her ass and lifted her, all the while his tongue tangling with hers.

  Tamera wrapped her legs about his lean waist, cradling his erection. She couldn’t rid him fast enough of his jeans. She wanted him filling her completely, possessing her. Damn but she wanted this vampire all to herself, no longer willing to share him. Hopefully the truth, her admission, would mean something to him, even if he hadn’t said the words in return. Not that she ever expected him to.

  Grayson walked them to his room across from the hall and deposited her on the rumpled striped, cotton sheets. Placing a hand on the inside of each knee, he gently spread her thighs, stretching the tiny bikini tightly across her sex. Her breath was ragged as it left her body. No man had ever made her damn near climax with barely a touch, and yet he had her near the precipice. His forefinger trailed across the soft nylon, down the crease and over the knot of nerves at her center. Wetting her suddenly dry lips, she looked down at the newly shaven vampire with shorn locks staring back at her.

  Never had a man looked more handsome.

  His nostrils flared and his eyes blackened. “Business can wait.”

  His tongue traced the same path as his finger. She squirmed against the palms cradling her ass. One finger pulled aside the little strip of fabric, just before he blew against her center. Watching her, he slipped two fingers into her, slowly drawing them in and out, before lowering his head and nipping the small nerve-centered bud. He then drew it between his teeth and suckled. So much pressure… Oh, good Lord!

  Her hands fisted the hair on the top of his head and she tilted her head into the pillow. Damn, she had wanted to hold out, wait until he buried himself deeply into her. Instead, she sucked in a deep breath before his given name spilled from her lips and she rode out the mind-numbing orgasm. As she slumped back to the mattress, attempting to catch the breath he stole from her, Grayson rose and quickly shucked his jeans.

  He placed his hands on the mattress on either side of her and crawled up the bed until his lips nearly touched hers. She could smell her essence still on them.

  “Make love to me, Grayson.”

  “Oh, I intend to, il mio dolce rossa.”

  He kissed her deeply, giving her a taste of herself. The bulbous head of his erection rested against her center, poised and ready to enter.

  Drawing back from the kiss, he said, “And then I intend to seek Hawk’s approval to petition his grandfather to return you as my mate.”

  Tamera’s throat clogged with tears as he entered her, his mouth once again covering hers. Grayson didn’t need to say the words, she felt them in the way he loved her. For the first time since meeting the playboy vamp, Tamera thought she might actually have a chance at salvation.

  * * *

  The old Ford pickup headed down the long driveway, bouncing over a few potholes, heading for Anton’s farmhouse. Her heart weighed heavy in her chest, knowing the things Anton might have said to Grayson. He still wasn’t answering her calls, and the most she had gotten from Grayson was the blond vamp was indeed fine and he had, in not so many nice words, given them his blessing. So Tamera had headed for Anton’s to retrieve her thi
ngs, before heading for the clubhouse, hoping to catch him at home.

  Having just ended a phone conversation with her parents, she smiled. It was good to hear their voices. Tamera had not been by to see them in the last nine months, but promised to do so soon. She missed them. They continued to hold the apartment she used that they owned, until she was ready to retrieve the rest of her belongings. Her mother had informed her as well that her old boss from the Florence Times, while he hadn’t held her position as journalist open, was more than willing to hire her back at the drop of a hat. Something else she wouldn’t mind returning to should she ever figure her way out of the mess her life had become.

  Tamera’s smile widened, despite the fact she probably didn’t have a right to the happiness coursing through her veins. If the past few days were to be any indication, living with Grayson would be a challenge, one she was certainly up for. The man’s sexual appetite was one for the books. It was little wonder he was known for taking more than one woman to his bed. He no doubt wore the human women out. Tamera wet her lips, heat pooling in the center of her thighs at the remembrance of the past few hours. Damn, she was already looking forward to the dirty little promises he had whispered in her ear before she had departed from the beach house. As she had pulled away, his boardshorts hanging low on his lean hips, she didn’t think she’d ever viewed anything more sexy.

  It was a wonder she was able to leave the beach at all. Not wanting to give Grayson a chance to change his mind about petitioning Vlad kept her moving on down the road. The sooner they talked to the elder, the better. Tamera certainly hoped, based on her and Anton’s conversation with the twins’ grandfather, they would get little resistance from him.

  Anton came back to mind as she cleared the farmhouse and noted his motorcycle still absent from its normal parking spot. She wished he would return her calls, talk to her. Tamera needed to hear from his own lips he was going to be okay. Instead, he seemed to be avoiding her, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what she had done to drive him away. After all, he was the one who devised the plan, and she had done nothing more than to follow through with it. Anton would always have a special place in her heart. She would never forget his kindness. In her selfishness, Tamera worried maybe she hadn’t considered his, not even once. Even when she had met his neighbor, she had been outright rude.