“Whoa. Is everything all right?” Damien spun back toward her, gripping her arm to steady her.
Panic quickly set in, making breathing difficult. “I have to go.”
Pushing past him, Tori bolted toward the brightly lit exit sign in the back of the theatre. Her feet suddenly left the floor, and she immediately found herself in Damien’s arms.
He carried her to the restroom, kicked the door open, and deposited her in front of the sink.
“I’m sorry, Damien. I don’t know what came over me.” Her attempted apology sounded weak to her own ears.
Turning on the water, he smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “I’m betting it was those nasty Philadelphia rolls you ate earlier.”
Tori’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you really don’t like sushi?”
“Not even a little,” he responded with a wince.
Laughter bubbled up, pushing her stepfather’s disgusting image far from her mind.
Splashing a little water on her overheated cheeks, she turned off the faucet and straightened. “You ate raw fish that you didn’t like, just to please me?”
Damien gently dried her face with a handful of paper towels he’d practically ripped from the dispenser on the wall.
He skirted her question. “What had you so upset?”
“It was nothing, really. Just a minor anxiety attack,” she smoothly lied.
“Do you get those often?”
The door abruptly opened, admitting an older woman carrying a whimpering baby. She quickly came to a stop when she noticed Damien. “This is the women’s restroom, sir.”
“I know. I apologize, ma’am, but my wife was feeling ill. I couldn’t take her to the men’s room.”
His explanation was so convincing that Tori almost believed him herself. “We’ll be on our way now. I’m really sorry.” She ducked past the woman and hurried back toward their seats in the theatre, trusting Damien to follow.
Chapter Eight
Damien could smell a lie in his sleep, and Victoria was definitely not telling him the truth, he surmised, following close behind her.
He touched her on the shoulder to stop her. “Talk to me.”
She slowed briefly before turning to face him. “Talk to you about what?”
“About what happened in there.” He nodded toward the theatre room they’d recently vacated.
She pinched the bridge of her nose in an obvious attempt to stall. “I told you. I had an anxiety attack.”
He pretended to let that soak in. “What triggered it? Me? The zombies?”
She laughed and once more began walking toward the theatre entrance. “Of course not.”
“If you’re sure,” he murmured, rushing ahead of her to open the door.
“I am. Now, no more talking about my issues. Let’s go have a seat and enjoy what’s left of the gore-fest, shall we?”
“After you.” He waved a hand for her to precede him up the darkened aisle. What are you hiding from me, Victoria mine? What indeed…?
* * * *
After sitting through the rest of the zombie flick breathing in Tori’s scent, Damien had never been more grateful to exit a building in all his life.
He sucked in great gulps of air in an attempt to dilute the remaining essence of her that still lingered in his nose. He needed to put some distance between them soon before he lost control and sank his fangs into her in front of the crowds of people now flocking to their vehicles.
“Where to next, my lady? I but await your command.”
“That depends. Do you feel up to a drink or two?”
“I’m up for anything, gorgeous. You just point me in the right direction.”
Amusement shone in her eyes. “Be careful what you agree to, Damien Devain. You’re in the country now and liable to end up staggering around a bonfire in your boxer briefs, wondering how you’ll get back to your hotel.”
“Is that so? I wouldn’t have pegged you for the hoedown type,” he answered with a grin.
“Hoedown? How on earth did you come up with that word? That word went out in the fifties.”
They arrived next to the car, and he opened her door with a smirk. “Perhaps I lived through that era in another life.”
“Mayhap you did,” she teased, taking a seat and moving her feet to allow him to shut the door.
Damien inwardly smiled as he rounded the car to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel. If she only knew what year he was actually born in, she’d run screaming from the vehicle as if he were the devil himself.
Damien pulled out of the parking lot and turned the car back toward Walton County.
* * * *
The drive back was an enlightening one for Damien. He stayed quiet for the most part, listening as Tori talked about her life growing up in the small town of DeFuniak Springs. She touched on everything from her closest friend Claire and her new baby, Grayson, to the comical, yet dear to her, Murphy sisters.
He pulled into a parking space in front of Scruples and switched off the engine. “You didn’t mention Claire’s husband. Is she not married to the child’s father?” Damien knew all too well that Claire had married a damn Sanders.
“Oh, yes. She married her childhood sweetheart. I’ve never seen two people happier.”
Relief poured through Damien with Tori’s confession. No jealousy or malice lined her words, which meant she harbored no hidden feelings for Jaxon.
Another thought occurred to Damien. If Tori ever became aware of the true reason for Damien being in town, she would hate him. He wasn’t sure of her feelings for the elder Sanders, but he had no doubt she had special feelings for Jaxon and would hate Damien for taking his life. Damien would have to make damn sure that she never found out.
“Are we having drinks here?” He nodded toward the entrance to Scruples.
“No, it’s closed. If you will give me a minute, I need to grab something from my car.” She stepped out onto the sidewalk without waiting for a response.
Damien watched her open the door to her vehicle and lean in. She straightened a few seconds later before pressing the locking mechanism on her keychain and climbed back into the passenger seat of his rental.
“Is everything all right?” Damien couldn’t help being curious as to what she’d obtained from her car.
“Yes. I just needed to grab a pill.” She fidgeted a moment. “The place we are going is only a couple of miles up Highway 83.”
“If it’s not too forward of me.” He gestured to her hand. “What kind of medicine are you taking?”
“It’s for my anxiety. It takes the edge off.”
“I see.” Damien wanted to question her further but decided against it. What could possibly have her anxious enough to need medication for it?
He sent her a reassuring smile. “Point me in the right direction. I feel a Bloody Mary calling my name.”
Following her instructions, Damien easily maneuvered the rental back out to Highway 90 and took a right onto 83 North. Neither of them spoke until they arrived at their destination.
“Do you come here often?” he asked.
The bar sat a short distance from the road, situated between several old live oaks. One of the dimly lit lights along the front slowly flickered, keeping time with the flashing marquee.
“It’s the only place open at this hour. They roll up the sidewalks at nine o’clock around here. And besides, it looks better on the inside.” She jumped from the car without waiting for him to assist her. “Come on.”
Damien got out and followed her to the darkly painted door that a small group of people were spilling out of.
Music blasted his ears as he stepped over the threshold of hell. His protective instincts kicked in, forcing him to take hold of Tori’s hand. He leaned in close enough to be heard. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
She gave his palm a gentle squeeze and led him to a table in the back. “It’s a great idea. Most of these people are regulars. No one will bother you.”
>
She thought he was concerned about being hurt. Truth be told, he worried more about her and what he would do if someone approached her. It took considerable effort to keep his eyes from changing and his fangs from descending.
A cute little waitress with a pixie cut sidled up to the table. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a Bud light, and I believe he will have a Bloody Mary,” Tori answered for him.
Damien only nodded, attempting to relax his posture while scanning the smoke-filled room. He wasn’t happy about bringing Victoria to this place. He could almost see the secondhand smoke settling inside her lungs.
A tall, blond man wearing jeans, boots, and a cowboy hat sauntered over to their table and stopped next to Tori. “Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?”
Tori instantly began fidgeting, which Damien associated with her anxiety.
“Justin,” Tori murmured. “Can we not do this here? As you can see, I’m on a date.”
The stranger ignored Damien and took hold of Victoria’s hand. “We need to talk.”
It took willpower for Damien to keep his fangs retracted when he wanted nothing more than to rip the guy’s throat out.
To hell with it. He suddenly gripped Justin’s wrist, forcing him to let Tori go and step back. “You heard the lady. She doesn’t want to talk. I suggest that you move on.”
Justin winced but held his ground, which would have impressed Damien at any other time. Not tonight.
Slowly getting to his feet, Damien allowed the heat to run free behind his eyes, fully aware of the crimson bleeding through to his irises.
“What on earth?” The color drained from Justin’s face. He quickly jumped back, yanking free of Damien’s hold before spinning on his heel and stumbling toward the door.
“Are you all right?” Damien eased back into his seat, willing his eyes to return to normal.
Chapter Nine
Tori watched in shock as Justin rushed from the bar without a backward glance. In all the years she’d known him, she had never seen him back down from anyone until tonight. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked if you were all right.”
“Yes, I’m fine. A little stunned right now, but I’m okay.”
Damien touched the side of her face. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I—”
“You didn’t,” she interrupted, glancing away. “It’s me that should be apologizing. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you to this place.”
He laid a finger under her chin and gently turned her to face him. “Nonsense. No more talk of apologies. Let’s finish our drinks and enjoy the rest of our date.”
Tori’s stomach flipped as she stared into his beautiful blue eyes. Something about him made her feel protected and safe. She slowly leaned in, her gaze dropping to his mouth.
“You’re being summoned,” Damien murmured, while visibly devouring her with his eyes. He leaned back with a wink.
“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” a voice called out over the music.
With more than a little reluctance, Tori pasted on a smile and turned to greet the dark-haired beauty. “Hi, Cherokee. How are you?”
The brunette took a seat across from them, holding a beer in one hand and her purse in the other. “I’m doing well. I’ve been here since ten o’clock, waiting on the evening shift to get off work. They’re supposed to meet me here at eleven thirty, but I couldn’t sit home, staring at the same four walls a minute longer.” She paused, glancing in Damien’s direction. “Are you going to introduce me to your date?”
Tori smiled in response to her friend’s audacity, which was one of the things the two of them had in common. Neither of them had much of a filter when it came to speaking their minds. “Gina, this is Damien. He’s in town from Alaska.”
Gina’s blue eyes, instantly lit up. “Oh, wow. I’ve always wanted to see Alaska. Victoria and I have talked about taking a trip to Anchorage before we grow too old to enjoy it.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gina. Or is it Cherokee?”
Tori had never worn the color green very well, and she was pretty damn sure it didn’t look good on her now. Watching Damien interact with Gina had her stomach tied in knots. Tori inwardly cringed at the direction of her thoughts. What was wrong with her? She’d never been the jealous type before, so why now? She listened as the man of her dreams conversed with the dark-haired beauty sitting across from them.
“Tori named me that in grade school after I told her of my bloodline and my intensions of scalping Jenny Altmire.”
Victoria grinned at the memory of Gina chasing the prissy cheerleader through the halls of the elementary school.
Damien took a healthy drink of his Bloody Mary before waving the waitress over. “Another round for us, and whatever this nice young lady is having.” He indicated Gina with a slight head tilt. “What is it that you do, Gina?”
“I’m a 911 dispatcher for the county.”
“Ah. I’m sure it’s a very rewarding career to have.”
Gina finished off her beer and slid the empty bottle to table’s edge. “It has its bad moments, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. What is it that you do, Damien?”
“I’m an art dealer, among other things.”
Victoria’s mouth dropped open. “What kind of art?”
He appeared uncomfortable with their questioning. “Paintings, antiques and such. Nothing nearly as exciting as taking 911 calls, I can assure you. Will you ladies excuse me?”
Tori waited until he was out of earshot. “He’s an art dealer,” she practically shouted at Gina. “Holy shit, and I brought him here."
The brunette laughed. “So? What’s wrong with here?”
“He probably thinks I’m some poor country bumpkin, Gina. I bet he has a string of beautiful, rich women on his arm at any given time where he’s from.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Tori. He lives in Alaska. There are no women in Alaska.”
Tori became acutely aware of her surroundings. She’d brought an obviously wealthy art dealer to Bar 83. “We don’t know how many women are in Alaska. You can’t believe everything you read.”
“I think you’re being ridiculous. You are a beautiful woman, and any man would be proud to have you on his arm.”
Gina’s attempt at silencing Tori’s self-doubt didn’t work in the slightest. If anything, it made her feel even more insecure. “Thank you,” she murmured instead.
Damien returned a few minutes later, nodding to the waitress as she placed their drinks on the table. He leaned in close to Tori’s ear. “Do you play pool?”
Relief was instant. Not only did she play, but she was damn good at it also. She inwardly smiled. “I’ve played a couple of games, but was never very good. Give me some pointers?”
“Absolutely, gorgeous. Grab your beer, and I’ll set us up on the far right table in the corner.”
Tori’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she signaled for Gina to follow them to the back where three pool tables lined the room. “Damien is going to teach me to play.”
“This, I gotta see.” Her friend chuckled, motioning for her to hurry.
Sashaying over to the row of pool sticks housed against the far wall, Tori pretended to study them. She glanced up at Damien. “They’re all the same, right?”
Damien smoothly plucked one from the rack, picked up the blue chalk resting on the corner of the table, and buffed the tip for her.
“Ladies first.” He handed her the pool stick and backed up a step.
Tori eased up close to the table, locked her knees and slowly bent forward, completely aware of the position it put her in. She peered at Damien over her shoulder. “I hit the white ball, right?”
Pure, unadulterated lust shone from his eyes, leaving Tori’s knees weak.
He cleared his throat. “Yes. Try to scatter the balls in a wide arc.”
Turning to face the table once again, Tori shifted her weight from one leg to the other, avoiding eye contact w
ith Gina for fear of losing her composure.
It felt good to flirt with a man without feeling dirty. To be free of her past and who she was, if only for this one night.
She bumped the pool stick lightly against the cue ball, barely moving the surrounding balls before slowly straightening. “I messed up, didn’t I?”
Damien moved in close behind her. “Let me show you.”
Tori’s entire body came alive as Damien pressed against her back, gently bent her forward, rested his palms on her shoulders, and lightly ran his hands down her arms to stop at her wrists.
The world faded away with the feel of his breath next to her ear. “You want to center your gaze on the ball.” He wrapped the fingers of her right hand around the base of the pool stick while positioning her left hand on the table and sliding the tip of the stick unhurriedly between her forefinger and thumb. It was the most sensual feeling she’d ever felt.
His lips brushed against her cheek. “Embrace the energy in your body, Victoria.” He stepped in closer, pressing his hips against her ass. “Focus on the feel of the stick in your hand. You alone have the power to manipulate the outcome.” He pulled back on the pool stick and leisurely glided it along her hand once again.
Tori was on sensation overload. Damien owned her in this moment. It was as if she floated above herself, watching from a distance as he controlled her thoughts, her feelings, her movements. And God help her, she didn’t want it to end there. She actually wanted him. Not out of duty, not from curiosity to see if it would be different with him, but out of need, longing, and a lifetime of loneliness.
Chapter Ten
Damien’s entire body drummed with desire—a deep-seated hunger he couldn’t recall feeling before. It burned inside him like fire, licking its way through his veins, consuming everything in its wake. His fangs tingled and throbbed in time with the pulse thumping in his erection.
Consuming Damien (The Possessed Series Book 2) Page 4
