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SUIT and FANGS

Page 4

by Marian Tee


  Present Time

  “Luka Georgiades is requesting permission to enter.” Alicia, one of the dozen of maids working for us, buzzed me in my room through the intercom phone that night. Alicia was also Caro, as were the rest of the staff. Humans rarely made it to Caro households. It was just too risky.

  “Send him up. He knows his way.”

  Luka’s knock came at exactly six in the evening, which didn’t surprise me. He had always been a stickler for punctuality.

  "Come in." I remained in my seat, legs crossed, back relaxed against the velvet chair.

  The door opened slowly, giving me ample time to prepare myself. But it was useless. The moment Luka entered, I knew it was just plain fucking useless. I could never be ready for this – this all-consuming hatred and yearning that threatened to drown me.

  My heart broke at just the familiar feel of his presence, a deceptively quiet sense of power that could strike hard at any moment, like a snake with venomous fangs. My bedroom, which was colossal and lavish in anyone’s standards with its rich oak panels and purple and cream velvet accents, suddenly felt too small and too warm.

  His shoes were the first thing I saw: hand-sewn beautifully stitched leather, un-branded because Luka wasn’t the type, and custom-made because he liked things perfect.

  Swallowing, I let my gaze move up.

  Formal gray pants - these were typical of Luka as well since he almost never wore jeans – not unless I specifically asked him to. And of course his suit jacket – I couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t been wearing a suit the moment he hit puberty.

  My gaze finally reached his face, and my heart crashed against my chest. Shit, oh, oh, shit, I had so not bargained for this!

  Power was one of our greatest turn-on, attracting us like moths to fire, and right now, Luka’s tightly harnessed power---a force that pulsed and throbbed so strongly it was impossible to ignore---just made him the sexiest man alive in any Caro girl’s eyes.

  Breathe, Caylie. It took several seconds before I could make myself look at him again. Gulp. Double gulp. Triple, quadruple---my throat stopped working with all the gulping I was doing, all intentions of being poised and unaffected in his presence thrown out of the window. Just looking at Luka had my senses reeling. The longer he stood there in waiting silence, the epitome of patience, like a freaking unshakably solid glacier, just made me want him more.

  This was so not the plan.

  He was just a year older than me, but now Luka felt centuries – millennia – older. What the hell had he been doing the past two years or so that he had become so powerful, so dazzling it was like he had swallowed an entire star and absorbed all its energy?

  Beautiful was a blasphemy if it were used to describe Luka Georgiades now. He was so much more than that, making me itch to frame him so I wouldn’t have to share him with anyone else. The bright locks of his hair, his pretty violet eyes, and damn it even wearing glasses just made him sexier. It made you want to be the only girl who could take them off.

  “Hello, Caylie.”

  I jerked at how cold his voice was, like we didn’t have history together. I knew he sounded like this with everyone – but not with me. He wasn’t like this with me before.

  Luka wasn’t smiling either.

  Oh, so now I didn’t even deserve a fucking smile, even one that was entirely faked?

  I lifted my chin, saying just as coldly, “Luka.” I raised my glass to him in a mock toast, now filled with half-empty champagne with a little diabetic blood mixed in it. I had been drinking for over an hour now, hoping it would be enough to get me through tonight. “Welcome back.”

  His lips tightened at my tone.

  The disapproval in his face pleased me, but there was also surprise in his eyes, and a part of me was offended – had he actually expected I’d sincerely welcome him with open arms?

  Luka’s gaze started traveling all over me, staying almost uncomfortably long on the deep-V neckline of my black silk blouse and taking its time studying the length of my legs which my black-and-white polka-dot shorts flaunted.

  I told myself I wasn’t bothered even though something hatefully familiar fluttered inside my stomach at his intense scrutiny. Since Luka left, I had never gotten to feel this way again with any other guy.

  “You look well,” he murmured finally. “How have you been?”

  His use of small talk was something I expected, and I relaxed a little bit more. It meant I could stick to the plan. “Splendid.” I tried not to sound brittle as I answered him. “And you?” Slowly, I stood up, my lids drifting halfway closed as I took a sip. When I raised my gaze and lowered my glass, I saw it.

  That glitter in Luka’s violet eyes was unmistakable, and wearing even the most opaque pair of eyeglasses would never be able to hide the truth in those eyes.

  Like any Caro, Luka had perfect vision, but also like any Caro his eyes had an unnatural sheen to them, making his irises glow like gems. Most of us could do with contacts, but Luka’s was literally shinier, enough to temporarily blind humans without being safely buffered by those custom-designed glasses of his.

  Glasses or not, there was no hiding the reality of the raw and scorching hot desire in Luka’s eyes.

  Oh, he wanted me.

  He so fucking wanted me.

  Relief struck at the realization, so powerful I almost had to clutch the table for support. My entire plan had hinged on that one single assumption – that after all these years, I was still his greatest fucking obsession.

  And I was.

  I offered him my glass, asking sweetly, “Want a sip?” I arched my neck a little, tempting his gaze to see the furiously beating pulse on my throat, knowing it would make his blood burn even more hotly.

  Luka’s eyes glittered.

  Yes, you bastard. Want me. Need me. Desire me. I hoped he would fantasize about me tonight and for all the nights that we would be together, so much that he would be on his fucking knees by the time I was through with him.

  And then he surprised me by taking the glass, our fingers brushing against each other, and I sucked my breath in, the heat emanating from those fingers simply off the charts. My knees shook harder.

  Our gazes locked with each other as he slowly took a sip, and this time he was the one arching his neck, exposing the beat of his own pulse.

  It was one of the sexiest sights for a Caro, and I gritted my teeth. It was that or wet my lips, which would tempt me to close my eyes and imagine sucking on his pulse. I used to do that. We used to do that. It had been so, so freaking arousing that it drove us crazy with desire.

  He lowered the glass from his lips and when he returned it to me, I was careful not to have our fingers touching again. I took another sip, murmuring after, “How have you been?”

  Luka’s shoulders, broader than what I remembered, moved in an effortlessly elegant shrug. “My life is the usual, thank you for asking.”

  My lips tightened. The usual for him now was a life without me then?

  He took a step closer, making me want to back away. Only my bitterness against what he did in the past kept me in place.

  “I assume you know why I am here.”

  “I assume you know how I feel about it.”

  His lips tightened once more. “Unfortunately, neither of us has a choice. The Brethren has decreed that I am to be your rehabilitator.”

  “I’m still undecided if being thrown to the dungeons would be the better alternative.”

  Luka’s eyes narrowed. “Your parents have told me you’ve become…unreasonable.”

  “Your parents don’t have to tell me you’ve become more of a pompous jerk these days.”

  Luka laughed.

  It wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. Worse, my body was turned on by it – a reaction I definitely wasn’t hoping for either.

  In a gentle voice that had me stiffening, he murmured, “Your parents are worried about you and so am I.”

  “Worried?” I asked with a mocking smile. “Aft
er almost three years of zero communication? Puh-lease, Luka. I may not be as smart as you are but I’m not stupid either.”

  He appeared startled at the sharpness of my words. “You’ve changed.”

  My smile glittered, but it also became more brittle. “Just enjoying my life the only way I know how.”

  Luka’s frown darkened. “I’ve read the report on your violations, Caylie. And I know that you know what you’re doing is not a good way to lead your life. You’ve been drinking poisoned blood all the time---”

  Actually, I wasn’t. It had been all for show – for him – but he wasn’t to know that. Shrugging nonchalantly, I answered, “Every kid my age does it.”

  His nostrils flared, and I knew he was closer to losing his temper – a rare sight, but one could hope. “Your grades are abysmal.”

  “I’m a Sonora, in case you’ve forgotten. I’ll never get kicked out.”

  “And you stay out late every night---”

  I let out a yawn. “What good would being a Caro do if I can’t stay out late? It’s not like I can party in the sun, can I?”

  Luka’s voice hardened. “Well, I’m sorry to tell you this, Caylie, but all those things have to stop now.”

  Shit.

  That coldly commanding tone skittered over my spine, making me want to shiver. Why, why, why was everything about Luka Georgiades so much more of a turn-on now?

  I raised a brow, murmuring, “Really?”

  Luka’s expression became steely. “Yes.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, knowing it would push my breasts up. “And how do you propose to do that?”

  For a fraction of a second, Luka’s legendary control wavered, his beautiful manners forgotten as his gaze strayed down.

  Yes, yes, you cold-hearted bastard. Do you want to touch them, cup them, suck them?

  I said blandly, “Well?”

  When our gazes met once more, he was flushed, fists clenched, back ramrod straight – the very picture of a man in the verge of breaking.

  Poor Luka.

  Having one of the finest minds of our race was simply not enough to save him from what was the most common of man’s downfall – thinking with his dick instead of his brain.

  “Well?”

  Luka’s eyes narrowed---an indication that he didn’t like how I was talking to him. Even so, his voice was calm and matter of fact when he answered, “If I have to spend every second with you just to keep you on the right track then that is what I will do.”

  Liar, you liar!

  I took a deep breath, trying not to show how his words…hurt.

  I wished it didn’t, but it did.

  Luka, you promised.

  I could remember how broken my voice sounded when I…

  Luka, please, you promised.

  I had begged him, and he had still left me.

  Letting out an incredulous and slightly shaky laugh, I said disbelievingly, “Do you honestly think for one moment I’m going to buy that? Come on, Luka. You and I both know you don’t really have any interest in staying with me. Been there, done that, not going to believe you ever again, you know.”

  Luka said nothing.

  No excuses, no apologies---no anything, and it made me so furious I could feel my fangs wanting to break free. Why? Why didn’t he even feel the slightest bit guilty for abandoning me?

  Unable to keep the bitterness from coating my voice, I snapped, “Why not stop with the pretense, Luka? You might want to do the right thing by getting me back on track but we both know that you can’t really stick it out in the end.”

  Tears choked my voice, tears that I never had any plans of shedding. They were just…there, as if they had always been in the brink of falling. “Just call it quits now! Just fucking leave me like you did before!”

  But still his cruel icily beautiful face remained indifferent. “I don’t care about what you think.”

  Don’t cry, Caylie. Don’t. I struggled to breathe, to keep the tears at bay.

  “Right now, what matters is that I have been appointed as your rehabilitator and I always do my duty.” He checked his watch, a slim gold Piaget that most guys his age would have trouble carrying off with such panache. But he did so, better than most adults. And God, even as I hated him, even as I wanted to cry because of him, I still couldn’t help feeling turned on with just the way he so elegantly moved, the cuffs of his hand-made suit falling back as he checked the time.

  “If you don’t mind,” he drawled ever so politely, “let us stop wasting my time and start with your studies now.”

  I turned my back to him, needing a moment to escape the sight of him, the mere presence of him. Haltingly, I asked, “H-how long should I expect to…suffer your presence?”

  “For as long as it would take.”

  Then that could be forever, I thought dully. I needed my revenge like I needed blood to survive, but even as I hated him with all my heart I knew that I needed Luka, too. Today proved it. Luka back in my life as a foe was better than Luka out of it. The truth just made me want to cry harder.

  I said lightly, mockingly, “Promises, promises.”

  Luka answered easily, “But I do mean it. I will do whatever it takes to get you back to your normal self.”

  Straightening, I turned around to gaze at him again, control restored, not one bit of my sadness and unease showing on my face. “Whatever. Let’s get on with it then.”

  I climbed up to my bed – it was a literal climb since it was a huge four-poster bed, set on an even huger red-carpeted platform. After tucking my legs under me, I looked back to see him hard-faced again.

  This time, I couldn’t even rejoice in his suffering.

  His words still hurt.

  You could have had my body, you fucking bastard. You could have had it every night and I would gladly give it to you but you threw me away.

  I raised a brow. “Well?”

  His gaze left my face, slowly lowering back to the swell of my breasts over my blouse. I saw his eyes turning crimson red and I gasped, unable to believe that he had revealed himself this much this early. My breasts immediately reacted to his gaze, nipples begging more of his attention, of his touch.

  Then his gaze turned to the bed.

  Oh. Shit, oh, oh shit.

  Instantly, images crowded my mind---Luka in my bed, undressing me, sucking my nipples, his hands going down---

  I clenched my teeth together to keep my fangs from slicing out, burying my nails into my palms as I angrily strove for focus, concentrating on the pain in order to similarly bury those almost-blasphemous images.

  Arousal was a power game for us Caros. You lost if you gave in to lust first, and right now, I was pretty sure I was about to join the losing side. Unwilling to taste defeat this early, I straightened, squaring my shoulders, and tossed my hair over my shoulder, deliberately flaunting my breasts even more.

  His gaze jerked up – just in time for Luka to see my own gaze dip low…until it reached his dick, which immediately and immensely swelled in response.

  Shiit, shit, shit – was it just my imagination or was Luka’s dick the largest I had ever seen – or sort-of-seen?

  Luka’s head abruptly turned to the side. “This isn’t a good place to study,” he gritted out.

  I silently inhaled and exhaled, taking advantage of the few seconds he wasn’t looking at me to get my bearings back. Seducing him was part of the plan, but…not right now. Not just now - not just yet, not when things felt too intense.

  “We have to find another place---”

  “There is no other place and you know it.” Even though we had a big house, all the other rooms were usually occupied either by my parents or any of the countless associates they had over every day --- and night --- for business meetings.

  Luka didn’t answer – and he didn’t move either, not until more than a few moments had passed and he finally took one of the high-backed chairs from my private lounge area in my bedroom, carrying it to the top of the platform. />
  My heart sort of squeezed at the sight. Sexual tension totally over, now replaced by the emotional kind---I missed catching glimpses of Luka’s old-fashioned courtesy. Other guys would have dragged that chair but Luka? No, that would have been impolite. He’d carry it instead – like he was now. And his sitting posture? Always beautifully perfect too – like now as well. Straight back, feet firmly on the floor, hands on his lap. He never ever turned the chair the opposite way to straddle it, the same way you’d never catch him wearing a cap, with the back in front.

  Luka’s elegant fingers slipped into the leather handles of my pink tote bag. “I take it this is your school bag?”

  I nodded.

  “According to your most recent grades, your greatest problem is history.”

  Actually – that was my favorite subject, but it was the easiest to flunk, hence the grade. “It’s just so boring.”

  “Nevertheless, you need to study it.” Luka’s voice took on a serious note. “As a Caro, it is your responsibility to study your race’s history. We are not like humans, Caylie. We may have all the same trappings they do and we may walk on the same ground but make no mistake: our existence is still not free from the dangers that our forefathers had died defending us from.”

  “History books can be easily burned." He tapped his head. "But what remains here cannot be erased. It is your duty to have the ability to pass on to future Caros about the past. Our generation has been sadly complacent about this but I will not tolerate the same from you." His eyes narrowed and his voice was like whiplash as he questioned me icily, "Do you understand now, Caylie?"

  "Yes," I grumbled out, suitably chastened.

  Luka took out my history book and skimmed the table of contents. "Which chapter are you currently taking up?"

  I shrugged. "Don't know."

  "Then we'll start from Chapter One---"

  I was horrified. "Wait! I think I can call up someone to ask!"

  Luka's face softened slightly with a smile that was so achingly familiar. "My thoughts exactly."

  And I realized I had just been tricked. "You jerk!" I cried out, throwing a pillow at him.

 

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