Blood Type

by K. A. Linde

  Rowland’s eyes blazed. She could see that he knew he was losing ground with Beckham’s speech. “I would never come forth without a real belief that she has been working against us.”

  “You’re a liar and a cheat!” Beckham cried. “You wanted to sleep with her and you wanted to drink from her, but she’s not your Permanent. She’s not a fucking toy or a goddamn pet! She’s a human being, and she’s mine.”

  Everyone in the room was silent after Beckham’s declaration. Reyna’s heart was beating wildly in her chest. He had just defended her to everyone.

  “Rowland is all of this true?” Harrington finally asked. Rowland’s silence was answer enough. “I don’t want fighting within my upper rank. We should be pleased with the results of today, not bickering over a girl. Unless you can bring forward more evidence, I’ll have to defer to Beckham’s judgment, as I always do. I just want to find a matching blood type and get my full strength back. Then we can really move forward with our plans.”

  Harrington gave Reyna a deadly look and it took everything in her to hold that gaze. Even though she was safe for now…fear clawed at her.

  Chapter 33

  Reyna and Beckham left Harrington’s office. Reyna had her camera back in hand. She had retrieved it from a sullen Rowland. The look on his face told her that this wasn’t over. This was just round one.

  They made it down the elevators and back outside in complete silence. Reyna held the camera close to her chest as Beckham’s driver appeared. She stepped inside first and Beckham followed. The car started on the familiar drive back to Beckham’s penthouse, and Reyna released a big breath.

  “That was awful,” she whispered.

  Beckham nodded tensely. “It could have been so much worse.”

  She agreed with that. Harrington’s trust of Beckham went so deep that he had let them go. Though she was sure he was going to have them both watched more closely. She couldn’t gallivant around at night anymore. Not that she was going to break the new curfew anyway.

  Reyna felt as if she were coming down from a buzz. After the rally, the near-death encounter, and the accusations at Visage, she was drained. The only good part was that Beckham had chosen her and now they were going back to his place together…as a couple. It almost made everything else worth it.

  Once they made it to his penthouse, Reyna finally let herself think about what this meant going forward. She was here now not as an employee or an investment. He wanted her here. It was that moment where she realized they had made it…now what?

  “How are you feeling?” Beckham asked cautiously.

  “Shaken up,” she admitted, “but I’m okay.”

  “I’m really sorry that Rowland dragged you through all of that. I should have been paying more attention from the start. Then I would have noticed what his endgame was.”

  “It’s really my fault. I should have told you when Rowland was advancing on me, then we wouldn’t be here and they never would have taken my camera.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “I can’t believe he stole it at the restaurant, and I didn’t even know.”

  “You were angry at me. It’s not your fault that he was trying to blame you,” Beckham told her.

  “Well, I guess I should delete the website. It’s too risky at this point.” The thought of deleting it made her sick. She had put so much time and energy into that thing. The pictures would still be on her computer, but it was different. It didn’t seem to have as much life to her.

  “No,” he said automatically. He reached forward and cupped her cheek. “If you delete it now, they’ll know that it was your website. I don’t want to do anything that might draw their attention. For now, the images are safe where they are. I programmed them so they are practically impenetrable.”

  “Oh. Right. That makes sense.”

  “You know I agree with your images, right?” he asked. His dark eyes were saying so much more than his words in that moment. She stopped fidgeting and got lost in their depths.

  “You agree with them?” she whispered.

  “Their message. I agree with the message you were trying to send. That there are people out there that need help. That equality is possible. We need to tackle the core issue of prejudice. That the rich sit on high when there are those that suffer. That was what I tried to capture in my work too.” He gestured to the framed pictures on the walls of the penthouse. “I could only hang these, but I think you can still see the influence in them.”

  “These are…yours?” she asked in disbelief. “I admired them the first day I came here.”

  “I know. It’s what made me think to give you the camera. No one notices the pictures. I knew you had an eye for it.”

  “Thank you. Your images really are amazing.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Beckham watched her closely as she examined the pictures again and tried to detect the hidden meaning. What was he thinking when he was shooting landscapes? Who was the woman in the café?

  “Reyna, you know I agree with you, right?”

  “About what?” She turned to look at him. He sounded so serious.

  “Everything. This was what I wanted to talk to you about in the car. I agree with you about everything. How people deserve to be treated. The direction our world is headed. How we need to do more to correct the problem, and not rely on path dependence that is spiraling out of control.”

  Reyna smiled. It was nice to finally hear someone agree with her. She knew she wasn’t crazy for thinking that ninety percent of people living in poverty was wrong. Or that the upper ten percent owned and controlled everything.

  “Be careful,” she teased. “They might accuse you of being part of Elle.”

  “I know. It’s why I’m very careful.”

  Reyna paused. “Wait…what?”

  He gave her a pointed look, and her mouth dropped open. What was Beckham trying to say here? Had he just said what she thought he’d said? No…no way. That couldn’t be right. It made no sense…but she had to ask it anyway.

  “You’re a…rebel?”

  “Yes.”

  Reyna felt her world tilt upside down. Everything she thought she knew from her time living with Beckham was…a lie. He was part of Elle. He disagreed with everything he was doing working for Visage. How was that even possible? How could he keep up the double life? And at that, how was he so damn good at it?

  She never in a million years would have guessed that Beckham had ties to the people who wanted to stop Visage’s infinite growth.

  “How?” she stammered.

  Beckham gestured for her to take a seat on the couch and started to tell his story. “I decided a year ago that I couldn’t sit back and let the world keep heading down this path. It was destructive for both humans and vampires. If Visage takes over the world, subjugates humans, and vampires revert back to animals…then what? There is nothing left? Humans will die, and thus vampires will die. Balance is possible in this world, and we need to find a way to achieve it.

  So, I set out to find a way to help in secret.”

  Reyna found it all hard to process. “But you just staked your entire reputation on me in Harrington’s office. What if they suspected?”

  “No one suspects, and I did it because I knew it would work. Only a few Elle members even know that I work with them. And now you,” he said.

  “Then why are you telling me?”

  He smirked. “No more secrets, right?”

  “Right.” She had already forgotten. “So…how did you get involved?”

  “Penny actually.”

  “Wait,” Reyna snapped, “Penelope is in Elle?”

  Beckham cringed. “Yes, she is. She has been my cover this whole time.”

  Reyna pitched forward in her seat. “You weren’t dating Penelope?”

  “No,” he adm
itted sheepishly. “But I had to maintain appearances so that I had an excuse to go to meetings. I’m afraid they want me to continue to do just that.”

  “Wait…back up. You aren’t with Penelope?”

  Beckham reached out for her and planted a soft kiss on her lips in response. “No. Isn’t it obvious? I only want to be with you.”

  Reyna felt her head spin at his declaration. She couldn’t comprehend all this new information at once. First, Beckham and Penelope were never even an item and now…now, he wanted her and only her. Reyna’s breath came out in soft sputters, and her eyes rounded.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to say anything back. I’ve lived longer than you. I know that I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

  “Oh Becks…I left my family to be with you,” she said with a sigh. “Of course I want to be with you.”

  His smile was spectacular. It was a smile that could block out the sun with its radiance. He had doubted her feelings for him even though she had been the one to push him toward it all along. She hadn’t been sure of her own feelings until she had said the words to him. All this time he had been pushing her away and she had been denying her true affections. Now with it out in the open between them, it felt absolutely right.

  Their lips crashed together, desperate to feel the other’s touch. None of the reluctance that she normally felt in his kiss was there. It was primal and addicting. This was all she wanted…all she had ever wanted. Beckham was hers, and she was damn sure going to make sure he knew it.

  He seemed to have the same idea as he hoisted her into his arms and carried her across the room. A dim light at the back of her mind seemed to realize that he was taking her into his bedroom…a place where she had been expressly forbidden.

  Her heart soared with the barriers that had been cleaved this evening. He had been true to his word about her seeing only the man from the rooftop. She had been hesitant about it before, but now she knew he truly trusted her with his deepest darkest secret. A secret that both shocked and thrilled her.

  Beckham pushed open the door to his bedroom, and Reyna stared in awe. His room was more like a wing of a house. It was all glass everywhere, and it was clear that this side of the penthouse had been redesigned to his specifications. There was a separate room to the left for his home office and a sprawling bathroom next to a massive walk-in closet full of expensive designer suits and ties. His room faced the city and he had the most spectacular view, with a large open patio balcony. In the center of the room…where she couldn’t keep her eyes from being drawn…was a colossal all-white king-sized bed.

  “Wow,” she breathed, taking it all in.

  Beckham laid her body out on his bed and ran his hands down her sides. “Welcome to my sanctuary.”

  “Why do you never let anyone in here?”

  He lifted her shirt and kissed his way from her stomach upward, dragging her shirt over her head. “I like my privacy.”

  “Says the man with an all-glass view.”

  “Who lives on the top floor.”

  “True. Well, I think it’s beautiful.”

  He leaned down and claimed her lips. “It’s yours.”

  Their kiss was explosive. So much pent-up energy from the month came crashing down all at once. And it took everything in her not to rush him. She was desperate to feel him and know that he was hers and no one else’s. It wasn’t enough to know it in her mind. She wanted to feel it with her body and connect their souls.

  She had never known anyone like this. All-consuming. The very thought of leaving him had been horrible. The idea that he didn’t want her…even worse. Now she was here and their lips were pressed together and everything was right in the world.

  Reyna forced his suit coat off of his broad shoulders, and it dropped heavily onto the floor below them. He sat up, wrenched the tie from around his neck, and tore his shirt open. Buttons wrenched from their places and pinged against the wall as his impatience won out. She reached forward and ran her nails down the front of his chest.

  He was perfection. Toned and tight with the muscular physique of a god. She was used to the men back in the warehouses, and not one of them held a candle to Beckham.

  “God, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he groaned, as he flicked open the button of her jeans and dragged them off of her legs. “You have no idea how difficult it was when you came out dressed in nothing but lingerie.”

  He reached for her leg and started kissing up her calf. He hit her knee and let her leg rest on his shoulder as he trailed his lips along her inner thigh. Once he touched her underwear, she squirmed underneath him, ready for him to take her again, but he didn’t oblige her and he worked his lips down the other leg.

  “Becks,” she moaned. “You weren’t the only one that found it hard to hold out. I was practically throwing myself at you.”

  “Oh yes, I remember.”

  He pulled her down roughly until her ass was resting on the end of the bed. Then he buried his face in her crotch.

  “This in particular,” he said, breathing hot against her underwear and moving to flick his tongue over the vein in her leg.

  Her moans grew louder, and she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to wait any longer. “Taste me. I know you want to.” Beckham tensed, but she met his eyes. “I trust you.”

  “I don’t trust myself.”

  “Please,” she begged. She wasn’t above begging for anything at this point.

  She felt the smallest prick at her inner thigh and then a flood of endorphins rushed her body. She shuddered. All of the blood flowed through her system, and everything was a total rush. Lying on the bed staring at the ceiling was a high. The feel of his coarse hands on her legs made her ache all over for him. Her head was both fuzzy and clearer than it had ever been before.

  Then Beckham pulled back harshly. He stood a short distance away, breathing heavy and looking like he was torn between devouring her and running out of the room.

  “That was Heaven,” she breathed.

  “Reyna…I can’t,” he stuttered. “It’s too dangerous.”

  She was floating in a sea of desire, and everything felt right with the world. It had only been a couple seconds, but it had been bliss. She felt herself coming back to reality. The shot of endorphins was wearing off so quickly.

  Jesus Christ, no wonder people got addicted to this.

  “Is it always this wonderful?” she murmured softly.

  He inhaled deeply. “No. It’s stronger when it’s emotionally charged.”

  She sat up on her elbows and smiled at him. “Come here.”

  “It’s not safe.”

  “Then don’t bite me.”

  “What if I can’t stop?”

  “You will,” she told him. “We’ll take it slow.”

  He cleared the distance between them. “The last thing I want is to take this slow.”

  His lips claimed hers once more with a fiery passion that she matched. With their lips still pressed together, she hurried backward on the bed, grasping his shoulders and drawing him back with her. He covered her body with his own and she grinded her body against him. So little clothing remained between them, and she pushed at his pants in earnest. He swiftly followed her command and removed them, and she rushed out of her underwear.

  Pressing her legs farther apart, he slipped his fingers down in between her lips and massaged the wetness over her clit. She sighed and tilted her head back. Her body was so sensitive and heightened even from the smallest bite earlier. She could feel how easily her body responded to his touch and how attuned to him she really was.

  Suddenly the head of his cock replaced his fingers and she arched off the bed pushing him farther into her. She reached out and grabbed his arm for leverage, but he had other ideas. His hand snatched up her wrists and pushed them over her head. Then hi
s dick thrust deep inside of her. She cried out as he stretched her to full.

  Her eyes fluttered open and stared up at the deep dark orbs. He looked not a bit hesitant. He was all man. Primal. Taking what was his in that moment. She could read it all over his face.

  Mine.

  Then he started pumping. In and out. Faster and faster. Her body moved in time with him, and even when her heart felt as if it might beat out of her chest, she didn’t ask him to stop. This was fierce and rough. Bodies slapping against each other. Heat building between them. Climax waiting on the brink.

  Beckham was fucking her and she loved it. Every minute of it. She poured her heart and soul into each movement.

  He leaned forward on his forearms, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She never wanted this moment to end. But she felt herself so near to her climax. And by the way he grunted and fell forward into her neck she knew he was almost there too.

  “Oh God,” she cried. She clenched tight all around him, her body seizing up as waves of pleasure rocked through her body.

  Then she felt something else. A prick at her neck. Two pricks. Two very distinct pricks.

  Beckham shuddered into her body as his orgasm took over him, but his lips stayed glued to her throat. This time it wasn’t a flood, it was an avalanche or a hurricane. A violent rush that knocked the climax she had just experienced out of the water. Endorphins took over. Her body didn’t just feel fuzzy; it was starting to feel numb. The adrenaline was coursing through her system and attempting to revitalize her, but her fight or flight wasn’t working.

  She wanted this. She wanted him to keep drinking. She wanted to feel this eternal paradise. She was trapped in the current and forgetting that she even wanted to swim out of it.

  Then it was as if Beckham went…deeper into her throat. She felt another prick and it jolted her out of her daze. He wasn’t stopping. Shit! He wasn’t stopping. He had said it was hard to stop. He had said that he was struggling with it. Why had she tempted him? God, she wanted this, but not like this.

  “Beckham!” she cried. She slapped him as hard as she could on the shoulder. He didn’t move. She screamed his name again and tried to shake him. She didn’t know how much he had taken, but she knew if he kept drinking, he would kill her.