Seduced by Blood

by Laurie London

  She jutted her chin out. “I wouldn’t call that a fault.”

  “I didn’t say that it was.”

  “Saying that I’m hopeless sure makes it sound less than positive.”

  “You’ve never heard the terms hopelessly romantic or hopelessly devoted?” he asked. “Being romantic or devoted aren’t negative character traits and neither is being organized. Besides, you didn’t know that I’m an admirer of organized people. If it weren’t for Jenella, my office up at region would be a chaotic mess.”

  That was a true statement if ever she heard one. “So what you’re saying then is that organized people are your enablers?”

  He reached out and snatched her hands so quickly that she didn’t have a chance to move away. “Yes,” he said, pulling her close and burying his nose in her hair. “I’d be hopelessly lost without…without the organized people in my life.”

  Her heart flip-flopped beneath her rib cage as her arms seemed to magically slip around his neck of their own accord. It sounded like he almost said he was hopelessly lost without her. But that was crazy. He wasn’t the type to become dependent on a woman. His assistant, maybe. But her? She highly doubted it.

  “I don’t know about that,” she said huskily. “I think you’re overstating things.”

  She really needed to downplay what could be going on between them. If she wasn’t careful, she could let herself get too attached to this man. Already she was being sucked into his world when she had her own issues to deal with. She’d been in Seattle for several days and yet she still hadn’t looked into the lead she’d discovered about Ian’s death.

  She couldn’t let go of the promise she’d made to Mary Alice. Having an all-or-nothing type personality, she had a hard time compartmentalizing everything and focusing on one task then moving to another. She tended to jump into something and let all the other commitments in her life suffer. If she let herself get involved with Santiago on a personal level, that would become her priority rather than the promise she made many years ago. And given what Mary Alice had done for her, she needed to make it her top priority again, which meant things needed to cool down between Santiago and her.

  If she was able to let things cool down. God, he smelled so good.

  “You’re perceptive and you really listen to people, whereas I’m…” He ran his thumb over her jaw, making her inner thighs quiver. “I’m demanding and short-fused. They clam up around me, but with you, I’d imagine they’d talk all day.” He pulled away from her slightly and cupped her face in his hands. His pupils expanded, crowding out all but just a ring of his irises. Seeing how emotionally stimulated he was really turned her on and a delicious heat pooled low in her belly.

  He stared at her lips, making her desperately want him to kiss her.

  “See?” he whispered, his voice rough like a callused hand. “Now you’re doing it to me. You’re an evil, wicked woman, Roxy. I’m not normally so open and talkative.”

  “I’m pretty sure you can’t talk if I’m kissing you.”

  His mouth was hot against hers and she pushed her tongue inside. He smelled faintly of cigars and tasted like peppermint. A laugh rumbled in his chest, and before she knew it, she had one knee up on the desktop and was virtually straddling him.

  “And normally I’m not this forward,” she said against his lips.

  “Believe me, I have no problems with you being forward when it comes to sex with me.”

  She hesitated, remembering how she’d taken charge with him in bed, as well. Had she gone completely mad? Yes, he was good-looking and an incredible lover, but she didn’t need to lose her head either. “Well…I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

  “Are you more comfortable with this?” And then, before she knew what was happening, he’d switched their positions.

  Now it was her turn to sit on the edge of his desk. With her skirt bunched up around her waist, he was between her legs, unbuttoning his fly. When he freed that magnificent erection of his, a teardrop of liquid already glistened from its velvety tip. She bit her lip to keep from gasping and sounding like an idiot. He was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen. Proud, virile and commanding. It both frightened and thrilled her that his desire for her was so obvious.

  Her breath came out all raggedy and uneven. She felt a tug, heard a rip and realized her thong was gone. He’d easily dispensed of it with a flip of his wrist. Nothing, not even a scrap of fabric, stood between them now.

  He held the base of his shaft with one hand and reached for her hip with his other. She scooted to the very edge, expecting him to guide himself into her, but at the last moment, he plunged two fingers inside her instead.

  “My hot little librarian is such a minx.” He chuckled and the rumbling in his chest felt as if it were coming from hers. His voice was scratchy and rougher now. Like wet wool or a piece of sandpaper. “I wanted to make sure you were ready for me, but I’d say without a doubt that you’re beyond that point and we haven’t even gotten started yet.”

  She moved her hips as best she could on this hard desk, matching the rhythm of his fingers. “Should we even be doing this? I mean, what if someone walks in on us?” She glanced toward the door but couldn’t see it behind him. His body was blocking it from view.

  “Then they’ll certainly get an eyeful.” He didn’t seem too concerned, but wasn’t that the way of most males? Sexual activity, no matter what it entailed, took precedence over the need to keep up appearances. “If you’re not a librarian, how about a professor?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

  Oh, God, he rubbed his fingers over a spot that sent electricity shooting down her spine. He seemed to enjoy watching her writhe in pleasure on top of his desk. Although her elbow scattered a neat stack of papers everywhere and her knee knocked over his pencil cup, he didn’t seem to notice. Or if he had, he didn’t care. His attention was one hundred percent fixed on her.

  Despite never being brought to climax with just a man’s hand before, she could tell she was getting menacingly close. The room seemed to be getting progressively smaller and every inch of her body was hair-trigger sensitive. Heat concentrated between her legs where he stroked her and his fingers seemed to be sliding in and out more easily. Even though his erection was quite large, if he guided the tip between her folds right now, she was certain her body was fully prepared to accept every inch.

  “I’m not a professor,” she said, grabbing his shoulders as if she were grabbing on to her last bit of sanity. She could feel his arm muscles flexing and contracting with every movement. Having seen them bulge and strain during his workouts, she imagined that they looked the same now as he pleasured her, which she found extremely erotic.

  “Ah, but you do teach at the Academy,” he whispered in her ear, pressing his thumb firmly against her center.

  All of her nerves tingled at once, every last one, from her toes to her scalp and everything in between. Oh, God, she could feel it coming. It was almost here.

  “Professors are…dull…boring…know-it-alls,” she said, hardly able to speak, let alone think coherently.

  “Not the gorgeous professor I know. She’s far from dull and, believe me, she’s never boring.”

  He gently twisted that little ball of flesh in such a way that she thought she might pass out from sheer pleasure, right then and there. She arched her back and pressed her hips into his hand. Normally, she’d be done with the foreplay and ready for intercourse, but she was so close now that if he stopped, even for a moment, she’d certainly die.

  “And just to let you know, the next time I do this to you—” he pressed a little harder for emphasis “—I’m going to be doing it with my tongue.”

  Like shards of glass raining down from the sky, she shattered into a million pieces around him. She probably threw her head back. Dug her nails into his shoulders. Maybe even cursed or called out his name.

  But before she could catch her breath or remember her name for that matter, he pulled her to the edge of the
table with a jerk.

  “I’m incapable of being slow and gentle right now,” he said, shoving her skirt even higher.

  “Good. Because rough sounds good at the moment.”

  She gripped his shoulders and trembled with anticipation. This was going to be so damn amazing. Last time was incredible, but a small part of her felt as if she may have taken advantage of him in his weakened condition. Although he’d recently fed from a live host, he still wouldn’t be one hundred percent back to normal yet, due to the UV damage he sustained.

  His eyes blazed with hunger as he hastily positioned himself between her legs. It was only when she saw his fangs that she realized her own had elongated, as well. She turned away slightly, not wanting him to see her. She couldn’t take his blood, he was still too weak for that. Besides, not every couple shared blood during sex. Many didn’t. And when they did, chances were they were in a committed relationship. His acceptance of hers earlier had been purely out of necessity.

  The velvety tip of his shaft slid into her opening, pressing heavily on her very sensitive core. Thanks to his skilled foreplay, she was more than ready for him, which was a good thing given his immense size. Then holding her bottom with both hands, he pushed himself all the way in with one commanding thrust.

  “Santiago. Oh, my God.” He filled her completely. She seriously was on the brink again though he’d hardly done anything. Just his body inside hers was enough to bring her to climax.

  His only response was a growl then a few grunts as he began pistoning his hips, driving into her over and over. He was a relentless and eager lover, the ridge of his shaft having found a very sensitive area deep inside her. It was as if his body was designed to fit perfectly into hers because it pressed all the right buttons in all the right ways.

  Her muscles clenched down tight around him in successively stronger waves.

  “I’m…I’m almost there.”

  He grunted in response. His thrusts became focused, the friction between their bodies even more intense. “Take my blood, Roxy.”

  “Whaaat?” She could hardly speak. Had she heard him correctly?

  “Drink from me. But hurry. I’m almost there.”

  There was no time to question him further. She was about ready to explode, as well. She didn’t want to know if this was routine for him or not, because right now, it was just the two of them making love. Not their pasts or what had happened to them before this moment. And certainly not their futures.

  His fingers fisted in her hair as she placed her lips on his neck.

  “Yes, that’s it. There you go.” He was thick inside her, his movements short and focused. The friction was almost too much.

  Her inner muscles tightened around him as she bit down. Instantly his coppery warmth filled her mouth, releasing a floodgate of pleasure more powerful than anything she’d ever felt before. It was so incredibly intense that she would’ve lost her hold on his vein and collapsed into a puddle on the desk if he hadn’t held her to him.

  He groaned and made one final thrust, releasing himself into her body.

  And in that moment, the world froze, suspending time between before and after. Although she wished it could last forever, she knew it was as fleeting as a butterfly on the wind.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IT WAS ALMOST eight o’clock when Santiago and Roxy walked down Fifth Avenue and headed back to the field office, passing a coffee shop with the neon S and P burned out. Car tires spun loudly on the wet pavement, a reminder that although it wasn’t raining now, it soon would be again. She’d hardly said more than two words since leaving the jewelry store a few minutes ago. He wondered why she was so distracted.

  “‘Coffee ho,’” he said, reading the sign and hoping for a reaction. When he didn’t get one, he added, “I’ll do you for a cup of Joe.”

  She didn’t laugh. “No, thanks. I’m a tea drinker.”

  He gave her a sidelong glance. Was she messing with him or was she just not paying attention?

  After the intimacies they’d been sharing lately—the laughing, the talking—he’d have thought a joke like that would’ve elicited some sort of response from her other than the bland one he got. One of her musical laughs. A punch in the arm. A snappy retort of her own. Anything.

  At first he thought she’d been upset because it had taken a week until he’d had time to shop for the ring, but then she’d seemed fine at the jewelry store—silly, actually—as they’d looked through the various display cases.

  “If I were Elizabeth Taylor, I’d totally pick that one,” she’d said, pointing to a rock the size of a grape. “And if I were Audrey Hepburn, that one, the second one from the top—” a simple platinum band with three modestly sized diamonds “—would be the one for me.”

  “How about that one?” Santiago pointed to a skull ring with diamonds in the eye sockets.

  “Angelina Jolie in her Billy Bob Thornton period.”

  “And that one?” A ring shaped like a butterfly.

  “Mariah Carey.”

  It went on and on. “Jennifer Aniston.” “Michelle Obama.” “Queen Elisabeth.” Even the salesperson pointed out a few of the more unusual pieces to see who Roxy would pick.

  When the guy excused himself to help another customer while they continued to look, Santiago’s curiosity suddenly got the best of him. “What about Roxy Reynolds? What ring is the perfect one for her?” He hadn’t planned to ask her. He also hadn’t meant for his tone to sound so serious, but the words tumbled out of his mouth. It was meant to be as lighthearted a question as the others, but it wasn’t. And they both knew it.

  She turned away from him, the silliness gone from the atmosphere as if it had never been there in the first place.

  He hadn’t wanted that game to end. He enjoyed seeing the way her eyes lit up mischievously just before she blurted out another celeb’s name. Could he just scratch those last questions? She walked back to the first case they’d looked in and pointed to the simple Audrey Hepburn ring. “It’s probably closest to that one.”

  So that was the one she wore on her finger now. They stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the intersection. “Aren’t diamonds supposed to be a girl’s best friend?”

  “Huh?”

  “I thought women loved diamonds.”

  “What? Oh, yes,” she said absently. “They’re nice.”

  What the— Diamonds are nice? Nice was a dog lying at your feet or the friend who brought you another beer without you having to ask or finding out it was double-shot day—two for the price of one—at your favorite espresso stand.

  It was like she forgot they had just spent the past hour in the jewelry store and bought the ring—the Audrey Hepburn ring—that was now sitting on her formerly naked finger. Was she distracted with everything going on at the field office? Was that it? He wanted her to loosen up and laugh like she did at the jewelry store. He knew she took her work seriously. Was she suddenly remembering the events that led to this sham of theirs—that people had almost been killed? Maybe he was wrong to be having fun with this and should change his attitude to be more like hers. Treating it like the job that it was.

  “You don’t sound very excited.” His first reaction was to be irritated by her disinterest, because he spent more on that thing than he did on his first car. He would’ve thought she’d at least pretend to be excited to wear it, but in the three blocks they walked since they left the jewelry store, she hadn’t even once looked at how it sparkled in the moonlight.

  For some reason he was more interested in the sudden turnabout in her mood. Normally, he didn’t spend a lot of time analyzing why people acted the way they did. He dealt with them at face value and didn’t care to know the minutia causing their actions. If their bad mood was caused by the stale cornflakes in their breakfast bowl, so be it. But she hadn’t met his gaze once since they started walking back to the field office and it gnawed at his gut to know why.

  “I’m sorry,” she said flatly. “I’m excited. Really.”r />
  Yeah, about as excited as someone getting a root canal. He wasn’t sure why he even cared about her reaction. He hadn’t been hoping that she would enjoy wearing a ring he gave her, would he? If so, he was an idiot.

  “Fine. Whatever.” He lengthened his stride, making her almost have to jog to keep up. He headed a different direction from the way they came. Lined with a few strip clubs, unmarked doors covered in graffiti, and tiny convenience stores with bars on all the windows, this street was a showcase of the underbelly of what Seattle had to offer, which was why he avoided it coming in the first time. It bypassed all the glitzy shops, fancy restaurants and big department stores that they passed on the way to the jewelry store. But it was also a shortcut back to the office.

  She looked confused. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s a beautiful ring.”

  “My feelings?” He made a big deal of laughing and rolling his eyes so as not to mistake things this time. Did she think he was a sensitive sonofabitch? “Please. My feelings are incapable of being hurt. You have to care about something in order for it to affect you.”

  His words came out harsh and to the point, but instead of backing away from him, she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walked. Did she not believe him? Then he recalled her skill at reading people. She must’ve sensed he was bullshitting her.

  He kept his hands in his pockets, resisting the urge to put an arm around her shoulder where it naturally wanted to go. She was right, of course. There was no need to get all emotional about a stupid ring when it meant nothing, which was why he wasn’t even the slightest bit hurt that she wasn’t excited about it. “Why don’t you—”

  Her hand slid from his arm. He didn’t realize she had stopped until he turned to find her staring incredulously across the street.

  “They’re open?”

  What’s open?

  He followed her gaze to either the grungy-looking pawn shop or the strip club advertising naughty college coeds. “Are you wanting to make a buck?” he said jokingly.