She wasn’t sure how she heard his voice, but she did. The deep timbre pushed its way past her thundering heart and sizzled along her nerve endings.
“Look at me, Viv.”
The memory faded as she opened her eyes to find Garret—a very real Garret—staring back at her, and she realized that the voice hadn’t been her memory this time.
She had his full attention now.
He’d pushed to his feet, the PDA forgotten in his hand as he stared across the mirrorlike surface at her. His ice-blue eyes gleamed in the moonlit darkness. Tension held his body tight. His muscles bunched beneath his T-shirt. Taut lines carved his face, making him seem harsh, fierce, predatory.
He was every bit the vampire she’d made him.
At the same time, there was something familiar in his eyes.
Passion.
Lust.
Love.
She ditched the last thought. He’d never loved her. Not then, and certainly not now.
But want…
He definitely wanted her.
Enough to forgive the past, forget the hurt and betrayal, and take the initiative?
There was only one way to find out.
WHAT IN THE HELL was she doing?
Garret watched as she started to move to the slow, sexy song that poured from the radio. Her hips shifted from side to side in a seductive way that made his muscles bunch and his groin tighten.
She slid her hands beneath her hair and lifted the silky curtain before letting it fall back down around her shoulders. She wasn’t as practiced as an actual stripper, but she was pretty damned good.
Enough that his dick throbbed and hardened and, just like that, he had a massive erection.
It’s not her. It’s you, buddy. It’s who you are. What you are.
She arched her back, and her breasts jutted forward, her hard nipples perfectly outlined beneath her sparkly tank top. His mouth watered at the memory of the throbbing tips deep in his mouth, her skin slick and wet beneath his hands. His entire body shook with need.
Hunger sliced through him, and his groin tightened.
He tried to fight the primitive urges that gripped him, but instead found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, having sex with her wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
It wasn’t like he was falling for her all over again.
He was stronger now. Immune to her vamp mojo because he had his own.
No, this wasn’t about falling for her. It was about falling into bed with her. Or, in this case, smack dab onto the river bank.
A little body-slapping, and he would see that she was nothing special. That he’d simply been mesmerized all those years ago.
He wasn’t mesmerized now.
He was hungry. Horny.
He needed to press himself between her legs and drive into her slick flesh over and over until she climaxed and he drank in her sweet energy.
Even more, he needed to shatter the illusion that had haunted him for the past two hundred years.
Viv Darland wasn’t his one and only—she never had been—and having sex with her was a surefire way to prove she was no different from any other woman out there.
Then he could stop fantasizing. Dreaming. Remembering.
Once and for all.
15
SHE’D FINALLY GOTTEN his full, undivided attention. She just couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
His expression was unreadable, his eyes hard and unwavering, his mouth set in a grim line as if he fought some internal battle.
Viv trailed her tongue over her bottom lip, determined to do everything she could to tip the scales in her favor. She touched a finger to her throat. A few fluttering strokes against the steady beat of her pulse, and her own hunger stirred. Her ears prickled, sifting through the sensory overload—the buzz of crickets, the scurry of critters, the whistle of the breeze, the occasional whinny of a horse—until she heard only the thud of her own heart and the slow, intoxicating melody drifting from the speakers.
A deep voice on the radio crooned about making love all weekend, and she slid a finger to the edge of her tank top, tracing the line where flesh met soft cotton before moving to the strap. Hooking her finger beneath, she eased the material down over her shoulder. Lifting her opposite arm, she did the same with the other strap until the cotton sagged around her shoulders.
She gave her upper body a little shimmy. The tank top rode lower on her torso until the material caught on her bare, aroused nipples.
Garret swallowed, and the air grew hot and shimmery between them.
She could feel the heat rolling off his muscular body, see the frantic beat of his pulse at the base of his neck, smell the rich, musky aroma of hot, aroused male. She knew then that he wasn’t half as indifferent as she’d first suspected.
A surge of feminine power went through her, and she pushed the straps of her shirt down until the material hugged her waist. Grasping the cotton, she eased it over her hips. She gave a little shake, and the top slid down her thighs, past her knees to puddle around her ankles. Leaning down, she caught the edge of the material and stepped free. Then with all the confidence of a sexy woman who’d been seducing men forever, she smiled. Just a faint crook to her lips that told him there would be more—much more—to come.
Cool night air slid over her bare arms and breasts, but it did little to ease her rising body temperature. His hot molten gaze fanned the flames, heating her body, her blood, until she felt the air sizzle around her.
She touched the undersides of her breasts, cupping the full mounds, weighing them and feeling the heat of her own fingertips against the soft flesh. All the while she imagined that it was Garret’s touch that seared her.
She skimmed her palms over her nipples, and they throbbed in response. Her stomach quivered beneath her fluttering fingertips as she moved on. Down. Around her belly button. To the zipper of her skirt.
A few tugs, and the opening slid free, her zipper parted and the material sagged. She rocked her hips in time to the slow, sweet, twangy song that filled the night air, and the skirt slithered down her hips. Her legs. She toed the denim to the side with her high heel.
She wore a silky red thong that matched her high heels and made her feel just as decadent. She traced the very edge before trailing her fingertips over the satin V. Back and forth. Side to side. Desire speared her, so sharp and potent, that her vision clouded, and her nipples hardened and quivered. Her eyes closed, and her need magnified.
Anxiety rushed through her and made her entire body tremble, but she wasn’t giving in to it.
Not just yet.
She gathered her control and focused on his burning gaze rather than the damnable hunger that pushed and pulled inside of her. With one fingertip, she teased the elastic at the edge of her undies before dipping a finger beneath. She touched the damp, swollen flesh between her legs, and her nerves hummed. Another lingering stroke, and she pushed deep inside her drenched flesh.
Pressure spiked through her, and she gasped.
She’d touched herself many times in this exact same way during more than one fantasy starring the hot, hunky vampire standing in front of her. But it had never felt the way it did now.
So real.
So intense.
So…pleasurable.
Another move of her fingers, and her body swayed from the sensation rippling along her nerve endings. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy the restless need inside of her. Not even close.
She didn’t want her own touch. She wanted his.
Sliding her finger free of her panties, she hooked the edge and slid the material down her legs. Stepping free, she faced him, her skin bathed in moonlight, her nipples hard and inviting, her body wet and ready.
He just stood there.
Watching.
Waiting.
“I came here for this,” she heard herself say. Her gaze locked with his. “For you.”
She wasn’t sure why she told him the truth. Except that
she’d already put herself out there by stripping naked, so there seemed no point in denying it anymore. That, and she wanted him to know that he wasn’t just any man to her.
Not then and not now.
He didn’t move for a long moment, as if letting her words sink in. Disbelief flashed in his gaze, followed by a strange glimmer that burned up any and everything else. He dropped his PDA to the riverbank and reached for the hem of his T-shirt. Pulling the soft cotton over his head, he tossed it to the side.
He was every bit as rough and rugged as she remembered.
Muscles carved his torso, from his bulging biceps and shoulders to the rippled plane of his abdomen. Dark, silky hair sprinkled his chest and narrowed to a tiny funnel of silk that disappeared beneath the button fly of his faded jeans.
Her gaze swept down to the prominent bulge beneath his zipper, and her pulse quickened.
His boots barely made a ripple as he strode across the water and ate up the distance that separated them. He stopped just inches shy.
Close, but not close enough.
“I’m not the man you remember.” She wasn’t sure if it was an admission or a warning.
Her doubts stirred and suddenly, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’d come to Skull Creek for nothing.
He was different now.
And there was a very real possibility that her reaction to him would be different, as well.
Maybe sex with him would be as uneventful as it had been with every other male in her past.
Maybe.
Probably.
“I’m not a man at all,” he added.
She clung to a small ripple of hope and fingered her sensitive nipple. “Neither am I.”
A grin tugged at his lips, followed by a fierce, hungry look as he watched her play with herself. She plucked the ripe tip, rubbed and stirred until a gasp worked its way up her throat.
“I’ve pictured you like this, you know.” He reached out to replace her hand with his own. The rough pad of his thumb flicked her, and the tip hardened even more. Her areola tightened and puckered. A growl vibrated up his throat. “Standing in the moonlight with your eyes bright and your body trembling.” His gaze flashed and his mouth opened just enough for her to see the gleaming white tips of his fangs. “In my dreams. My fantasies.”
Excitement stirred deep inside of her, along with her own hunger. Her gut clenched, and her legs quivered. “I’ve fantasized about you, too.” She wasn’t sure why she told him, except he spoke so freely and suddenly she wanted to, as well.
She wanted to talk to him the way she had back then. And she wanted him to listen.
To care.
The notion struck, and she stiffened. Caring? This wasn’t about caring. It was about passion. Fast, furious, blazing passion.
He thumbed her nipple again before dipping his head. His tongue flicked out, and he licked her. Once, twice.
Slowly. Meticulously.
Because he wasn’t turned on enough. Not yet.
Dangling, she could almost hear Winona say.
“Geez, it’s getting hot,” she commented as he slid his hands under her breasts.
“Not nearly hot enough.” He kneaded the soft, round globes.
Excitement flared in the pit of her stomach, and she closed her eyes for a long, nerve-wracking moment. She couldn’t…She wouldn’t…
She opened her eyes and stared at her feet, focusing on the quickest means of escape from the delicious sensation wreaking havoc on her control.
“I—I think maybe it’s time to cool off.” She willed herself to drop, plunging straight down into the water and out of his grasp.
The cool liquid closed over her head, and she relished the sudden change of temperature. She needed to calm down, to douse the inferno that raged deep inside and threatened to seize control.
She wasn’t taking the lead and killing her chances for a bona fide orgasm.
She wasn’t.
She stayed under for several long moments, until her heart calmed enough for her to actually think again.
Finally, she moved her arms and legs, swimming back toward the shimmering moonlight overhead. She broke the surface with a soft plunk and opened her eyes to find him nowhere in sight.
She wiped a hand over her face. Other than the two motorcycles, the bank sat empty, the trees shrouding everything else in darkness.
Surely, he wouldn’t leave his motorcycle?
Then again, if he’d changed his mind…
Instead of upping the challenge, maybe her retreat had given him time to come to his senses.
To run.
The truth echoed in her head as she did a complete three-sixty in the water, her gaze searching every inch of the surrounding bank. A faint rustle thundered through her head, and her gaze snapped to the stretch of lush vegetation to her right. A rabbit darted across the ground before disappearing into the trees. A cricket buzzed, hopping from one distant branch to the other. A firefly sparked, bobbing through the trees.
She glanced down at the water, her gaze pushing into the dark depths, but she saw only the steady kick of her own legs, the flap of her arms. On the surface, her reflection stared back at her.
Her hair was plastered to her head. Water dripped from the tip of her nose. Black circles rimmed her eyes and made streaks down her cheeks—
What the hell?
She peered closer, and a sinking feeling gripped the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t used waterproof mascara. She hadn’t even thought about it.
But then, she hadn’t had a clue she’d be going for a swim. No, she’d pictured herself having sex tonight, not playing cat and mouse in the river.
She wiped frantically at her face, but that only smeared the black even more. She’d just splashed a handful of water onto her face to try to wash some of it off when she felt the soft brush against the inside of one ankle.
She jumped, kicking her legs and flailing around. While she might be up to a game with Garret, she wasn’t going one on one with a fish. Or a snake.
Not that she was vulnerable to snakes. It was just the thought of something she couldn’t see slithering around her ankles that sent goose bumps dancing up and down her arms. She definitely didn’t do snakes.
Just as the notion struck, something brushed her other ankle, and she kicked out.
To hell with this.
She focused, gathering her strength and energy, and started to lift herself out of the water. But then the faint brush turned to a steel-like grip as fingers wrapped around her ankle and jerked her back down.
The water closed over her and she went completely under. Deeper and deeper. She flailed, fighting for a split-second until she felt the strong arms close around her, and she knew it wasn’t a snake.
Her eyes opened and through the shimmering water, she saw Garret, his face only inches from her. His eyes blazed with a hunger so bright and intense that she felt like she’d go up in flames.
She had the sudden thought that she should definitely give Winona a great, big fat bonus for her advice, but then his lips touched hers, and she stopped thinking altogether.
Shazam!
16
HE’D FANTASIZED ABOUT kissing her so many times over the years. But nothing, not even the most decadent dream, prepared him for the real thing.
Her lips were soft and full beneath his plundering mouth and an electrical current ran from his lips, straight to his growing erection. He pushed his tongue deep, stroking and delving. He was through denying himself. He meant to sample every inch of her, savor her essence on his lips, make her writhe and moan until she knew without a doubt that he was her equal—a seductive, mesmerizing vampire with pure sex on his mind.
He pulled her flush against his body as they hung suspended in the sparkling depths of the water. He let his hands roam over her naked body and marveled at the feel. She was softer than he remembered. More voluptuous.
Impossible, he knew.
She was a vampire. The same y
esterday, today, tomorrow. He knew that, yet he found himself slowing down and re-learning every inch of her anyway.
The dip at the base of her spine, the soft hollow just beneath her rib cage, the roundness of her ass, the smooth, sensitive inside of each thigh.
He drew her closer, pulling her legs around him and locking her ankles at the small of his back. Then he settled her firmly against the rock-hard length barely contained by his zipper.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on as he rocked her. The coarse material of his jeans rasped against her clitoris, and he felt her tremble.
The water stirred around them, bubbling from the heat rolling off their bodies. At the rate they were going, it wouldn’t be long until the entire river started to steam.
He focused his thoughts and willed them to move toward the surface and higher…until they cleared the river completely and levitated a few feet above. Water dripped off of them, sprinkling down as he moved them toward the opposite river bank and the soft patch of thick grass.
When his bare feet touched the lush growth, he kissed her again, exploring and tasting for the next few frantic moments before he loosened his grip. Easing her to the ground, he slid her down his hard length, letting her feel every inch of how badly he wanted her.
A gasp parted her lips. He caught the sound as he kissed her again, hard and insistent. His hands were everywhere, touching, branding, reminding her of the past and how much he’d changed.
That was the goal here. To prove that he wasn’t the same man any more than she was the same woman.
He’d been as charged up sexually, of course, but he’d had a far different goal in mind.
Back then, he’d been concerned with both giving and receiving pleasure. But now…Now it wasn’t about having his own orgasm. It was about sustaining himself, growing stronger, feeding.
It was about giving her an orgasm and soaking up the energy he so desperately needed.
Ditto for her. Or so he thought. But she made no move to turn him on and push him toward the edge. Rather, she seemed content to be on the receiving end. As if her goal had nothing to do with the beast that lived and breathed inside of her and everything to do with the woman who stood before him.
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