by Renee Rose
He raised his eyebrows and looked doubtful. “What is this?”
“It’s my version of s’mores,” she said.
His lip curled.
“Just try one. They’re tasty.”
She picked a square up and held it to his perfect lips, her heart skipping at the boldness of the gesture. “I promise I didn’t poison them with roasted garlic spread or anything.”
His mouth twitched in amusement and he opened it a crack, as if only to let the tiniest bit of food in. Nibbling a corner, he looked up as he sampled the treat. “Not bad,” he said, taking the cracker from her hand and accepting the plate. “I guess I won’t make you crawl around on your hands and knees and lick my hand.”
Her jaw dropped and she didn’t know whether to laugh or kick him in the shin. “I beg your pardon?”
“My dear fairy, I have many ways of punishing you, and all of them involve your humiliation.”
She stifled a shiver, meeting his eyes with a narrowed gaze.
“If you would like to sit at my feet, I always enjoy subservience, but you are also welcome to sit beside me.”
Catching his smirk, she gave a nervous bark of laughter. She plopped beside him and made a show of snatching one of the crackers from the plate on his lap.
She bit into the cracker and watched him chew, studying his beautiful face. A pierced eyebrow and multiple studs up his earlobes roughened the look, but he had a Hollywood mug with a firm jaw, blue eyes and sensual lips. He wore a black t-shirt, fitted snugly over a muscled chest, faded blue jeans and Converse sneakers, looking every inch the part of twenty-something mortal hipster. A very sexy hipster. Her body grew warm sitting next to his, the contact of his shoulder against her becoming a conduit of electricity between them.
When she finished her cracker, she reached for another one, but he slapped her hand, holding the plate away.
She made a sound of outrage and he grinned.
“Say please.”
“They’re my crackers!”
“Are they?” he challenged, the ice blue eyes connecting with hers in a stare-down she could not win.
She blew out her breath and looked away. “Nevermind.”
He crossed one long leg over the other. “You see, there’s a pecking order here, love. The sooner you learn it, the easier things will go between us.”
“Go to hell,” she muttered, pushing to stand up.
He picked her up and plopped her onto his lap. “I am your hell, sweetheart. Believe it.”
His words would have irritated her more, except she knew he spoke them to purposely get a rise out of her, so she rewarded him with a roll of her eyes. But his continued belief in her magic concerned her. “Listen,” she said, hoping this time he might believe her. “I’m not a fairy. I don’t know anything about curses, or magic. Even if I wanted to help you, I can’t.”
He reached out and wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb, turning it around to show her the chocolate syrup she had sported before he popped it in his mouth to suck it off. Her nipples tightened as she considered the effect of those lips sucking parts of her body. As if he could see through her clothing, his eyes traveled down to her breasts then back to her face, a smug look on his face. “I believe you don’t know or understand your abilities,” he said. “But I will help you get up to speed.”
“How?”
He shrugged and offered the plate of crackers. As she reached for one, he said, “Say please.”
She huffed. “Please?”
He grinned. “You see? That wasn’t so hard.” He offered the plate. Returning to their discussion, he said, “I’m not sure yet. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around anyone with fae blood. We thought them mostly extinct on Earth by now, most moved to living in a parallel dimension where nature ever grows.” He affected a dramatic tone, as if making fun of the Fae. “But you have so much natural power, it can’t be that hard.”
“What is the curse?”
His expression hardened, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “You’ll know when the time comes,” he said stiffly.
She shrugged, stifling a yawn. “Okay. Look, it’s way past my bedtime. I know you’re nocturnal, but I need my sleep or I get very crabby. So...ah, are you going to let me go to bed?”
He gave a lopsided smile. “I’m glad you’ve realized who is master here.”
“Alone?” she clarified, catching a glint in his eye.
He lifted her to stand and rose. Grasping her jaw, he tilted her face up to his.
She stiffened, eyeing his fangs as they lowered, his heavy-lidded gaze mesmerizing. He merely brushed his soft lips across hers, kissing her as if they’d just ended a first date, rather than the bizarre exchange of attempted murder, spanking and...what? Kidnapping? Claiming? No words described her position. She couldn’t move, frozen under his light caress, smelling the sweet chocolate on his breath.
He gazed at her. “Sasha.” He said her name as if committing it to memory. “Lovely little fairy.”
And then he dematerialized, leaving her standing alone in her living room, her heart beating in an irregular pattern.
“Wait,” she said, although she knew he was already gone. “I don’t even know your name…”
He materialized in his bedroom and though he planned to return shortly with supplies, he immediately felt too far away from her. What if she ran away? But she hadn’t seemed that afraid, the scent of her arousal proving her curiosity equaled his own. Which suited him just fine. While he needed her and had no intention of backing off until he got what he wanted, he’d rather win her cooperation through the dance of sexual domination than to actually harm or threaten her or her loved ones.
Not that he was above such a thing. He was a vampire, after all—concerned only with numero uno. And as a lone vampire, as opposed to those who lived in nests, he gave to no one. Since his bitch of a lover had cursed him, he’d gone it alone, friendly with many, trusting none.
He gathered the necessary supplies, chuckling over the way she’d come at him with the sharpened stake. It had been quick thinking on her part, assuming she’d never met a vampire before or contemplated killing one. He’d been impressed. And aroused.
And it wasn’t just her lithe body or beautiful face. Perhaps it was her innate power, which made the rest of her so intriguing, so adorable. He thought of her thick, shimmery hair and how he wanted to fist it while he banged her hard from behind.
But no...he’d get no satisfaction from that. Thanks to the curse, it would only drive him crazy.
He picked up some of his supplies and dematerialized, tracing back to Sasha’s. Opening the door to her bedroom, he found her curled in a ball under her covers, her brows drawn together as if in concentration. She looked so young and innocent in sleep and he experienced an odd tugging on his lifeless heart. Was he still capable of...what? Compassion? Affection? Caring of any kind?
No. Impossible.
He dematerialized to his apartment and returned with another batch of supplies, until he had brought everything he needed to move in. Grabbing a roll of duct tape, he covered every window in the place before nailing sheets of plywood in front of them in every room but Sasha’s. He didn’t want to wake her now. She would need her rest to begin her studies tomorrow.
He returned home once more to grab a change of clothes and his laptop, which he used to look up Sasha’s workplace. Tucson Center for the Developmentally Disabled. The more he read about it, the more impressed he became. It was a live-in facility for children with developmental challenges. Judging from the hours she worked, she was a counselor, which didn’t pay much more than minimum wage. And it had to be challenging work. Despite all her tough exterior, Sasha must have a heart of gold.
He smiled, looking forward to shadowing her. He opened a new window and went on the internet to search out any books that might help her understand and hone her powers. Those on witchcraft seemed useless, and there was absolutely nothing on the fae, other than fiction, but he found a great deal under th
e new age and metaphysical. Working with light, sound and color as vibration, using energetic medicine all seemed like what the fae did. He ordered every book he thought might be even remotely of use and had them overnighted to Sasha’s address.
Of course, empowering her could prove dangerous. She would be able to protect herself against him and his influence. It would be a tricky game to keep her believing he had the upper hand. Because once she understood her magic, aside from turning her, he would have no way to control the young mortal.
Mortal descendants of the fae, which must be what Sasha was, were impossible to find in present times. Vampires loved their taste and often drained them for their energetic structure. They claimed it built their power, but he believed it really lightened their darkness.
He remembered how much better he used to feel around Anka. Not quite so much of a monster. Not quite so soulless. He had loved her, but over time, he came to realize she had only been using him. Sending him off to do her bidding, frightening people or glamouring them while she built her wealth. She lied and pretended he was her one true love, but he’d found her entertaining another man in her bed.
Now magic had largely faded from use, and finding a cure had become more and more improbable. Although after his online research, he wondered if he’d been looking in the wrong quarters, because clearly healers must be out there if they wrote the books. Still, for some reason, he believed Sasha, untrained though she may be, held the key to his cure.
He felt more optimistic than he had in a century. Perhaps he had just been without hope for so long that even the faintest glimmer—a young mortal able to put up a force field—thrilled him.
His internal alarm alerted him to the coming dawn, his body becoming twitchy, the natural urge to go underground as fundamental as the instinct to feed. He materialized in Sasha’s bedroom, bringing the plywood for her windows with him. As he expected, she woke at the sound of the first nail being hammered, sitting up in bed with her copper hair spilling in all directions, face flushed with sleep.
She leaped out of the bed, her head whipping right and left as she took in the scene. He admired her reaction. No screaming and pulling the sheet up to her chin like he pictured. No. This girl mobilized like a warrior preparing for battle. He’d needed her awake, but now he regretted sending her into overdrive.
Their eyes locked and he sent his hypnotic suggestions, first calming her physiological reactions, then programming her not to touch the window coverings, and to stay locked in the duplex, not leaving until he gave her permission Finally, he planted the directive that she must protect him at all times from light and avoid all sharp wooden objects.
She looked unnerved. “What did you just do?” she asked, a slight quaver to her voice, which she counteracted with her customary bravado—in this case, a glower.
“Shh,” he murmured, surprised at the guilt permeating his gut. He normally had no compunction about manipulating mortals to get his way. With his little fairy, though, it seemed unfair, like he ought to win her loyalty fair and square. “Go back to sleep, love,” he said, erasing her memory of the event and sending her into a pleasant dream. He traced to her side to catch her as she fell, settling her on the bed and drawing the sheet up to cover her.
She looked angelic, her lips forming a pretty bow, her golden skin glowing. He bent and kissed her forehead, a foreign protective urge creeping up in him. He would have to be careful with this one. It seemed little fairies were his weakness.
Chapter Two
She woke to a blissful dream. She remembered nothing of it, but the feeling had been magical—she’d felt safe and loved. Not her usual state of being by any means. She hadn’t had a traumatic childhood, but she’d been on her own, at least emotionally, for most of her life. Her mom had been a single parent who struggled with making ends meet, getting ahead in a crappy career and her own dating life, which hadn’t been particularly rewarding. She and her brother had been latchkey kids and she’d been supporting herself since the day she graduated from high school.
She kept her eyes closed, wanting to stay in the lovely feeling. Memories of the night returned with a jolt—the vampire and the spanking. And the kiss. Rather than throw her out of her pleasant mindset, they filled her with a delicious sexual awareness, her entire body tingling in memory of being handled. Though her logical mind screamed danger, her body had no interest in caution where that very sexy male was concerned.
She tossed one leg over a pillow, undulating her pelvis to create friction against her mound. The cushion provided exactly what she needed, fitting between her legs, hard and firm. She rubbed herself against it, drifting in the delicious place between sleep and awakening, heat burgeoning as the hard pillow rubbed over her clit—
Hard pillow? Her eyes flew open and she drew in a sharp breath.
Beside her lay the vampire, grinning sleepily and reaching to cup her ass, which lay sprawled over his thigh. She’d been grinding on him, her folds slickened and plump, dripping wet.
She yanked her leg off and rolled away, leaping off the bed. “What the—”
“I’m going to sleep a while longer, but you are welcome to hump me all you want,” he said in a dream-thickened voice.
“What are you doing in my bed?” she demanded, but his eyes had already slipped closed again. Sprawled on her mattress with his shirt off, his lean muscle gave a masculine chest and arms the visage of a Greek statue. He lay on top of the covers and she still wore her pajamas—that was a good thing. He hadn’t had his way with her while she slept. Although the thought tweaked her already ennervated core.
What time was it? She peered at the clock and then gasped when she realized why it didn’t seem like ten in the morning—her windows were boarded over with plywood.
“What the—?”
Well, of course, the vampire couldn’t be out in daylight, and he’d declared his intent to stick with her until she removed his curse. She frowned. Just because light harmed him didn’t mean she didn’t need it. She was the type who got depressed on cloudy days. Living in Arizona had been a cure, of sorts.
Well, she could always work in the garden or go for a walk. She padded out to the living room to see, not surprisingly, every window sported the same covering. Damn him.
She thought about tearing some of it down, but her skin got prickly and the idea disgusted her. Of course she wouldn’t remove it—he would die. And while she’d tried to kill him the night before, she didn’t really want to end his life now.
She eyed him sleeping as she headed toward the bathroom. How had she not noticed him climbing in bed with her? Or nailing boards to her windows? The idea disturbed her. And what about those incredible dreams? Had he given them to her? Perhaps to make her sleep through it all? What if he had molested her in the night?
She rushed in the bathroom and locked the door, pulling off her pants to finger her sex, not trusting her own sense of things down there. She almost groaned at the prod of her own fingers, the sensitive pleats already engorged from her shameless masturbation on his leg. Her face burned at the memory. Dear God, how would she face the man—er, vampire after that display?
Her pussy did not feel sore or stretched. So he hadn’t violated her during the night. It took great willpower, but she withdrew her fingers and climbed in the shower, keeping the water cool to clear her head. She needed to wrap her mind around her current situation. She had a live-in vampire roommate who wanted something she didn’t know how to give him. Fantastic.
How the hell would she get herself out of this mess?
She stepped out of the shower and dried off, wishing she‘d brought her change of clothes into the bathroom with her. Wrapping the towel under her armpits, she peeked out of the door to make sure the vampire still slept. Seeing his eyes still closed, she tiptoed out and snatched a pair of shorts and a tank top, putting them on speed-dresser style, like she did at the department store when she had brought ten items to a changing room and had fourteen more in waiting.
Picking up her hairbrush, she walked out to the living room, dismayed by the darkness of the place without the windows. She would actually have to turn on the lights during the day. She sighed with exasperation and entered the kitchen, flipping on the light and pouring herself a bowl of cereal. She ate in a sort of stupor, her brain short-circuiting on the vampire part every time. How long would he be here? Did she really have special power? She tried to remember where she’d learn to put the bubble of protection around herself, but came up short. Seemed like she’d always done things like that. She figured it was just a quirk of hers left over from childhood, like kissing her hand and hitting the ceiling of the car when she ran through a red light. Which she didn’t do these days, since she had no car.
She just needed to get outside to her garden. Watering, pulling weeds and tending her vegetables always helped her sort through her thoughts. She stood and washed her bowl in the sink, setting it in the drying rack. Walking to the front door, she reached for the handle and then stopped, changing her mind.
Maybe she should check her email first. She sat down at her computer, then started for the door again, once more changing her mind. The third time it happened, she stopped herself as she turned away from the door, freezing.
Slowly, she reached her hand out to grasp the knob, her fingers trembling slightly at the thought in her mind. All her instincts screamed to snatch her hand away, but she pushed forward, half-expecting the door to burst into flames when she touched it. Her hand arrived, but she literally could not make herself turn the knob.
She swallowed, her temples throbbing from the exertion of will.
Open it, she gritted aloud. Open the damn door.
“What did you do to me?”
He woke to Sasha climbing up over him, straddling his waist. His fangs shot out before he’d even opened his eyes. He grasped her hips and pushed her further down his body so her core rested directly over his hardened cock. Her heat brought a shock of pleasure and he closed his eyes again.
