by Lara Adrian
He nodded. “Good to go. We should be back at the ranch in less than twenty minutes.”
As much as it seared Naomi to give in to her jealousy, she couldn’t keep a lid on her emotions for long. They had only gone about five miles before she glanced over at him in the light of the dashboard.
“She was pretty. The girl back at the gas station.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Is that why you went inside?” She tried to seem casual, unconcerned, but to her ears her voice sounded hollow.
He looked at her in question. “I told you, I went inside to pay.”
“I know what you told me, Asher.”
“Okay.” There was an edge of irritation in his level tone. “So, what are you asking?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
She glanced out the window for a long while, knowing she really had no right to ask anything more. He didn’t owe her answers or explanations. God knew he didn’t owe her any apologies. After all, she’d gone willingly into his bed and he hadn’t promised her anything in return.
Still, it hurt to think of him being attracted to another woman. It more than hurt to think he might have taken that attraction even further—especially while she waited in his vehicle outside.
But dammit, she had to know.
When they had finally turned onto the bumpy dirt lane leading to the ranch, she couldn’t keep the words from tumbling out of her.
“Did you fuck her?”
He swung a hard look at her. “What? Jesus. Is that what you think?”
“Did you?”
“No.” He parked the truck, and took out the key, his jaw held tight.
The tendons in his neck were thick and taut like cables, the angled bones of his cheeks seeming more sharply hewn somehow, unearthly so. Even in the low light of the truck’s interior, she could see that the glyphs on his arms and neck were dark and pulsating.
“I didn’t want sex from that woman, Naomi. I wanted her blood.”
Maybe she should have been relieved. She knew what he was. She understood he had to feed. But even these words carved her out. “That’s the real reason you went inside—to drink from her?”
“Yes.” A single word. No intonation in his cool, lethal voice.
She gave a stiff nod, then practically lunged for the door handle. She couldn’t get out of the vehicle fast enough, couldn’t get far enough away from him. She spilled out to the dusty ground and ran, not stopping until she reached the paddock fence where the horses stood.
Asher was right behind her. “What are you doing?”
“Go away, please.”
“Why are you so upset?”
She pivoted in the opposite direction of him and stormed another few feet. He seemed to materialize right in front of her. “Tell me, Naomi. Why does the thought of me feeding from another woman piss you off?”
She scoffed brittly. “Because I’m an idiot, apparently.”
He gave a tight shake of his head. “You know I’m Breed. You know it’s my nature—it’s a goddamn necessity—that I take a blood Host.”
“Yes, I know all of that,” she snapped, glaring up at his carefully schooled face. “I know what you are and what you need.”
His eyes flashed with tiny sparks of amber. “Then why are you so hell-bent on condemning me for it now?”
“Because I love you.” The admission rushed out of her. Once it was freed, she felt some of the weight lift from her breast. None of the pain ebbed, though. “I love you, Asher. And thinking about you being with another woman—drinking from someone—tears me up inside.”
He scowled, a low snarl building. “You shouldn’t say such things.”
“Why not? Because you don’t want to hear it?” She was seething now, all her cards on the table with him. She had never felt so vulnerable in all her life. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Asher, and that scares the hell out of me.”
The sparks that lit his gaze had turned molten as she spoke, his pupils swallowed up by the light. As he reached up to cup her face in his hand, she saw his glyphs churning with living color. “Let’s go inside now. This is not the place for what needs to be said. And it’s not safe for you outside, especially in the dark.”
She slowly shook her head. “It’s not safe for me in there, either. Because every minute we’re together makes me want to pretend the rest of the world—the real world—doesn’t exist.” She withdrew from his touch, even though it was hard to deny herself his comfort. “I’m just so scared, Asher. I’ve been through pain before, but I’ve never given anyone the power to hurt me like you can. I didn’t realize what that meant until tonight.”
“The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” He caught her face in both of his hands and gently brought her to him for a kiss. Tender, unhurried, breath-stealing. “And the only vein I want is yours.”
She frowned. “But you and that woman—”
“I went in the station with every intention to feed from her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to put my mouth on someone who isn’t you.”
“Asher . . .”
“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me with that kind of relief. Because you’re right. Being with me isn’t safe for you, either. Because if I ever drink from you like I want to, there’s no undoing it. I’ll be bonded to you forever, Naomi. I’ll always want you, crave you . . . hunger for you.” He drew in a breath and let it out on a dark, strangled curse. “Hell, I’m going to feel all of that whether I have your blood in me or not.”
She swallowed, her throat dry. “Then take it, Asher.”
His scowl deepened. “You shouldn’t say that. You don’t really know what kind of man I am. I don’t have the honor it takes to turn you down.”
“So don’t.” She reached up, stroking his handsome face. She could see his torment so clearly now. He wanted her, but he was starving in another way too. She could see the anguish of it written all over his face. “As for honor, I’ve never known a better man.”
A faint smile tugged the corner of his lips. “You know at least one. Michael.”
“That’s not what I mean. I’ve never known a man I wanted the way I want you.”
She tilted her head to the side and pulled out the tie that held her hair in its ponytail. Sweeping the loosened strands around to one shoulder, she bared herself to his fevered gaze. To the razor-sharp fangs that seemed to lengthen even more as his gaze locked on her throbbing artery.
“Ah, fuck,” he rasped. “His breath sawed in and out of him as he lowered his face to her neck. His tongue was hot and wet as it brushed tentatively over her carotid. “I can feel your heart racing. I swear, I feel it in my own veins whenever I’m next to you.”
He licked her again, more deliberately now, a teasing, testing stroke of his tongue over her fluttering pulse. Naomi’s heartbeat thudded in her breast, hammering in anticipation of his bite.
Asher growled, an animal sound that vibrated all the way into her marrow.
Then he pressed his open mouth to the side of her neck and sank his fangs deep.
“Oh, God.” She wasn’t prepared—not for the jolting flare of pain, nor the rush of heat that flooded in on its wake. It felt so good, so primal. So powerful.
Arousal bloomed in her core, as sudden as a flashfire, and deep as a volcano. She arched against him, wanton and wild. His body was hard, his erection grinding into her in heavy demand. On a gasp, she tipped her head back and watched the sea of stars overhead blur into a field of diamonds as she lost herself to the pleasure of his heat and his elemental thirst.
Each strong pull of Asher’s lips and tongue at her vein was echoed by a sensual and building pressure in the center of her. She was wet and panting, desperate to feel him inside her.
“Asher, I can’t bear it . . . the pleasure is too much. Please . . .”
He groaned sharply against her throat, his tongue sweeping over the punctures. A tingling sensation followed as her wounds healed.
He shuddered, and when his gaze lifted to hers it glowed with a devotion that staggered her.
“Now, I’m taking you inside,” he rasped, his fangs enormous and glinting in the starlight. He scooped her up into his arms. “My sweet, delectable Narumi. You belong in my bed.”
CHAPTER 18
He should have let her go tonight. He should have walked away from Michael’s house alone and either left her there or drove her to the Order in Lake Tahoe himself so he could deal with Slater and Cain and anyone else who might pose a threat to Naomi’s wellbeing.
Anything would have been better for her than what he’d just done.
But it was too late for second guesses or regrets.
The intoxicating taste of Naomi’s blood was still the sweetest fire on his tongue—feeding every cell in his body—and there was no taking that back. Bastard that he was, he didn’t want to take it back.
Asher carried her into the house past a befuddled Sam and down the hall to the bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind them and placed her on the bed. “I’m not sharing you with anyone tonight. You’re mine.”
She smiled up at him, her face slack with desire. “I like the sound of that.”
Tonight she did.
Tonight he was still a man she thought she knew, one she believed she could trust. He would rather die than shatter her faith in him, but he’d already done that by withholding the truth about where he’d come from . . . and all the sins he’d committed.
Naomi’s dread for a killer like Cain would be tenfold for Asher if she ever knew.
And she would know, if he were ever careless enough to let her drink his blood.
She would see it all and know that she was mated to a monster.
But for now, she loved him.
With her blood roaring through his veins and the bond twined from his soul to hers, he felt her essence alive and shimmering inside him. He knew the goodness and empathy that was Naomi. Her pleasure, her pain . . . it was all his now too.
Her affection wrapped around him like a warm embrace, igniting his blood while kindling an unbearable yearning in his heart.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he slowly undressed her, kissing every inch of exposed skin as he lifted away her shirt and unfastened her lacy bra. He stripped off her jeans and panties, pausing to enjoy the sweetness of her sex.
He was ravenous for her, and the power of her blood inside him intensified both his hunger and his need to give her pleasure.
“Please, Asher,” she whispered heatedly as he undressed. “Don’t make me wait.”
He wanted to take his time, savor the gift of her body even though she had already given him more than enough of her. But through the bond he felt her gnawing need in combination with his own and it was too much even for him to endure.
As he came back onto the bed, she trailed her fingers over his shoulder and down his arm to take his hand. She placed it between her legs and moved against him, no inhibitions in her movements or in the fevered look she locked on him as he stroked her and plumbed her tight channel with his fingers.
She sighed and moaned, her slim little body twisting in pleasured agony.
He gazed at her in raw hunger. To think that she was his—even when he knew in the pit of his soul that he would never be worthy of her—made him feel like a king. Like a god, especially when her eyes were locked on his with a yearning that staggered him.
“So beautiful,” he uttered, his throat constricted with the depth of his feelings.
Her tight, tawny nipples made his mouth water and he could not resist dropping low and closing his teeth over one of them, his fangs scoring her skin for just another taste of her blood. She gasped his name, her spine bowing into his embrace.
“You taste like heaven,” he rasped against her as he licked at the tiny rivulet that flowed over his tongue, the scent of her skin and the sweeter scent of her Breedmate blood driving him to the brink of a need that bordered on madness.
“Asher. . .”
Her expression was beyond pleasure, beyond desire, as he stroked her sex and tugged at her breast with his teeth and tongue. Her arousal was a tightening coil inside him too. The bond would give him all of her most intense emotions—her deepest joys and ecstasies, her coldest fears and sharpest pains.
As staggering as it was to feel her desire for him, and her uninhibited response to his body and his touch, the thought of experiencing Naomi’s distress or discomfort was torture all on its own. If he had anything to do about it, she would never know anything but happiness. And if that meant keeping her in his bed for the rest of their days and nights, he couldn’t think of anything he’d enjoy more.
A snarl tore out of him on the heels of that silent pledge. Sealing the small flow of blood that trickled onto his tongue, he rose over her and moved into position between her parted thighs. She was wet and ready for him, her hips rising to meet the full measure of his thrust.
They both moaned at the intensity of their joining. Asher shook as he rocked into her, every cell in his body on fire with the need to claim her, to keep her . . . to love her forever as his mate.
When he was moving inside her, it was easy to deny all the other things he was feeling. The dread of losing her to someone like Slater or his men. The uncertainty of their future even if he were to neutralize that threat, and the pain he would be forced to endure if Naomi were to learn she had given herself to a monster.
He had never thought himself a coward until this moment. But as he coaxed her body to a release that left her clawing at his shoulders and screaming his name in ecstasy, he understood just how weak he truly was. Because this woman owned him with every sharp breath and pleasured sigh, with every powerful beat of her heart.
Asher watched her surrender everything to him. He felt it in his marrow, through the bond he had no right to take from her.
God help him, but it was easy to pretend he was a better man when Naomi was writhing and coming apart in his arms.
It was easy to deny his deep dishonor at having given in to his own selfish needs and desires with her . . . and the guilt of being unable to regret it.
CHAPTER 19
Naomi stepped out of the shower that next morning, feeling different in so many ways—stronger, more rested, every fiber of her being thrumming with the reminder of Asher’s incredible passion last night.
And his bite.
She moaned just thinking about how good it felt to have his mouth on her like that, his fangs piercing the pliant flesh of her neck. Now that she knew what it was to give herself over to his hunger, a deeper craving had begun to take shape within her too.
She wanted to taste him.
She wanted to drink from his vein and feel the same kind of bond to him that he had described after taking his fill from her.
She wanted to feel his bond.
It terrified her how much she wanted that, even knowing there would be no coming back from it. A future with Asher. As his blood-bonded mate.
His Breedmate.
Wrapping a towel around her, she stepped in front of the bathroom mirror and peered at her reflection. She tilted her head, and for the first time in her life she studied the small red symbol under her chin with something other than annoyance or resentment. She’d spent twenty-six years trying to pretend the teardrop-and-crescent-moon stamp on her skin was nothing more than a birthmark, something to be ignored. Now, she couldn’t see it without thinking about Asher and the incredible, passionate world that had opened up to her since he came into her life.
She smoothed her fingers over the vein that pulsed just below her ear, unable to contain the broad smile that spread over her face.
She loved him.
He hadn’t said the words back to her precisely, but he’d said other things. Tender things. Possessive things. And all the while his molten gaze had scorched her with its intensity, and its raw honesty.
God, she had it bad for him.
More and more since she’d met Asher, she
had been allowing herself to imagine shiny places in her future, places that had plenty of room for the kids and Michael, yet always with Asher at the center. It astonished her to realize how deeply she longed for those things, and that the other driving force in her life—vengeance on Leo Slater—had begun to take a backseat to this other one. Hope.
“You are a love-struck fool,” she told her giddy reflection, but not even that dimmed the happy look on her face.
She shook her head and finished drying off, then hurried to get dressed so she could go find Asher and maybe persuade him to help her out of her clothes again after she made some tea and found something to eat.
She was finger-combing her damp hair when her phone trilled with an incoming call. She retrieved it from the top of the bureau and frowned at the private caller message shown on the display.
There weren’t a lot of people who had her number; Michael and the kids, primarily. Instantly her thoughts careened toward Slater, but she couldn’t imagine any way he’d know how to reach her. Still, her finger hesitated for a moment over the screen before she decided to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” a female voice replied. “Naomi, this is Sheila, from Dr. Davis’s office.”
“Oh. Sure, of course.” Naomi let go of her pent-up breath when she realized it was only the medical assistant at the low-cost clinic where they brought the kids. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, everything’s fine. We, ah, we have Tyler here for his asthma check-up today.”
“Okay.” Naomi vaguely recalled the appointment, but usually it was Michael who kept track of those things and made sure everyone got where they were supposed to be. “Is there something I can do for you, Sheila?”
“Well, I was just wondering . . . Tyler’s been waiting for someone to come pick him up for over an hour, so I didn’t know if you—”
“Wait a second,” Naomi blurted. “Didn’t Michael bring him to the appointment?”
“Yes, he did. But Tyler tells me Michael dropped him off and was going to take care of some banking and run a couple of errands before he came back to pick him up. Like I said, it’s been quite a while since we finished with Tyler and the poor little guy’s getting a bit anxious for someone to come and get him.”
