The Vampire's Temptation

by Cecelia Mecca

  Kenton did not get overly excited anymore.

  At least, not until he met the light that was Alessandra Fiore.

  His fingers nearly ached with the need to feel her skin beneath him. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, he opened her jeans. Hardly ideal, but her response—inching closer, moaning in that low, husky voice—reminded him of that morning. He’d wanted so badly to pleasure her then, but he’d restrained himself.

  No longer.

  Pulling from her, the loss of her sweet lips temporary, Kenton watched her eyes as his fingers found what they’d been looking for. He would no sooner miss her expression as he brought her to climax than he would tell his brothers that he’d let this woman live.

  “There was a time centuries past,” he said, slipping inside her wet, tight warmth, “that I’d have waited to find a more appropriate place for this.”

  He’d never forgotten the chivalric code by which he’d lived as a young man. When he was a youth, highborn ladies had been expected to preserve their virginity and eschew sexuality. That Alessandra was so unabashed right now . . .

  Kenton loved this century above all others.

  “I don’t understand.”

  No, she would not. Could not. But no matter. There were more pressing matters to attend to. Her ability to form coherent thoughts indicated he wasn’t doing as well as he should.

  He moved closer, his palm cupping her now.

  When Alessandra tipped her head back in pleasure, he said, “No, love. Look at me.”

  Pleasure should not be hidden. Kenton would ensure hers was not.

  She listened, her lips opening ever so slightly as her eyes hooded.

  Each movement was deliberate as he brought her closer and closer . . .

  “I will make you throb with need and come apart in my hand—” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

  “Oh God . . .”

  “But you must promise me one thing.”

  Ignoring the state of his rock-hard cock, which ached to be inside her, ignoring the erratic beating of her heart and faint sound of her blood pumping through her veins, ignoring everything around them and concentrating solely on her eyes, Kenton willed her to do the same.

  “You must not shut your eyes again, no matter how strong the urge to do so. Look at me. Glean what you will from my eyes as I pleasure you, Alessandra.”

  Increasing the pressure of his palm and his fingers, he did not relent.

  “Even when you pulse beneath me, do not block me out.”

  She was getting close.

  “Can you do that, love?”

  She nodded.

  Good.

  If she were able to speak, he would have needed to prolong this. As it was, Alessandra would not last much longer. And when he moved inside her, knowing what was to come, Kenton waited in anticipation for . . .

  That.

  The ever so slight dilation of her pupils that told him not to hold back. As she began to release against his fingers, Alessandra kept her word. She stared into his very soul, her soft moans the loveliest of sounds.

  He couldn’t care less to be discovered, but Kenton knew she’d have felt a bit differently. So when her cries became louder, her mouth gaping open, he took the invitation and covered her lips with his own. Plunging his tongue into her mouth, Kenton pulled his hand away and pressed against her.

  Frantic now, Alessandra grabbed the hair at the back of his head and pressed closer. Allowing it . . . nay . . . relishing in it, Kenton drank from her delicious nectar as she came back to him.

  Next time, he would go with her.

  But not now. Not tonight.

  Kenton needed to be alone, to understand what had happened here.

  “And now you see why our hasty exit was necessary,” he said, righting her jeans.

  “How . . . why . . .” Alessandra expelled a long, deep breath. “Holy hell.”

  “An oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one.” He smiled, stepping back. “We should be going.”

  “Right.”

  He planned to offer his arm but found himself wrapping his fingers through hers instead. Her hand should not feel as if it so perfectly fit inside his own.

  “I have an early meeting in the morning. Work,” he said, by way of explanation.

  “For a job I know nothing about.”

  They walked away from the docks toward the side path around the restaurant.

  “I wouldn’t presume to bore you.”

  “Kenton Morley.” She stopped, as did he. “I have a feeling, if nothing else, that you could never, ever bore me.”

  He was about to tell her that she was right when she added, “Though you may well be the death of me.”

  Her words felt like a stake to the heart. Something he’d been lucky to avoid thus far. If done with the right kind of wood, it could actually kill him.

  A vision of Alessandra, lifeless and drained of blood, assaulted him. And for reasons he couldn’t yet fully explain, Kenton knew with new certainty that he had not, in fact, lied to Lawrence and his sister.

  He could not kill her. And had never regretted the deaths that had come before her more so than in this moment. Which meant the one thing he’d lived for since his parents were murdered was suddenly, and irrevocably, forsaken.

  Chapter 14

  “Birdie found something.”

  Alessandra slipped her hand in the cream sundress she’d owned for years. Her mother had bought it for her one weekend a long time ago. The two of them had gone shopping together frequently, but that outing had been different. On their way home, her mother had made an unusual request, to stop at the cemetery to visit her father’s tombstone. Except he wasn’t actually buried there—you’d need a body for that. Six months after he left them, his kayak had been discovered in the ocean near Long Branch, New Jersey. Twice he’d disappeared, though this time, for good. He had been declared dead the following year.

  Even though he’d abandoned them, leaving behind nothing more than a note addressed to all three of them—“I love you and always will”—still her mother visited his grave each season. And that day, the one when her mother had bought her this dress, her mom had asked Alessandra to come with her.

  Unlike her mother, she’d never forgiven him. But she’d lacked the ability to deny the request, and so she had found herself staring at the gravestone of the man who had devastated her family.

  She kept the dress as a reminder, though of what, Alessandra wasn’t quite sure. She also wasn’t quite sure why she’d chosen to wear it for her date with Kenton.

  “Can you zip me?” Giving her back to Toni, Alessandra lifted her hair. “So what has she found?”

  “She’s not sure yet, exactly. But an old acquaintance of hers believes she has heard the Cheld referenced before and has promised to look into it.”

  Alessandra turned, admiring Toni’s outfit. Her friend could wear a potato sack and look sophisticated, but this was several steps up.

  Kenton had dropped her off after their dinner at The Lakehouse, giving her a chaste peck that confused the hell out of her after the way their meal had ended. Although Alessandra had no patience for games, she hadn’t reached out to him afterward. He was the one who’d found her two days later and suggested they go out again. Alessandra still wanted answers—and hell, who was she kidding, she wanted him—and so she’d agreed, on the condition that they spend time with Tyler and Toni. She hadn’t wanted to cancel her plans with her friend, and maybe, in her heart of hearts, she’d feel a little less vulnerable if they were around.

  “I’ll be curious to see what she comes up with,” Alessandra said. She was proud of the way she’d moderated her tone.

  “You’re not fooling me, even for a second,” Toni said. “‘Sounds good. Let’s double-date. I’m off to The Witch’s Brew to get some work done,’” she mocked. “Pretending everything is normal will not make this go away.”

  Alessandra picked up the tan purse her mom had slipped into her suitcase on her last vis
it home. She’d complimented the bag so her mom had sent it home with her.

  “So what do you suggest?”

  Toni pursed her lips together. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe you can start off by telling me a bit more about your mysterious dinner at The Lakehouse.”

  Picking up Toni’s purse too, she began to walk toward the door.

  “I told you. It was a pleasant evening. He answered some of my questions, but his answers weren’t all that reassuring or illuminating. And he kissed me. And some other stuff. Nothing more to tell.”

  Toni’s unladylike snort made her smile. As they made their way downstairs, Alessandra wondered why she’d left out the mind-blowing orgasm. After all, they pretty much told each other everything.

  Maybe the issue was that Alessandra couldn’t find the words for what had happened—and what he’d made her feel.

  “Where are we going tonight, anyway? I told Kenton I’d text him in an hour. He’s not free to meet us until ten.”

  When she didn’t hear Toni’s footsteps behind her, she turned back toward the house.

  “What could he possibly be doing at nine o’clock on a Saturday night?” her friend asked, her brow furrowed with a suspicious look.

  Alessandra shrugged. She’d wondered the same thing, but when he’d called earlier to ask if he could see her tonight, her foremost thought had been Yes! It hadn’t even occurred to her to interrogate him—which just went to show how much he affected her good judgment.

  “Murphy’s?”

  Toni took the lead, answering her question as she turned right instead of left onto Main Street. On Saturday nights, their favorite bar was filled with tourists. And since she had every other Saturday off, Toni didn’t usually like to go back to “work.” They often ended up there anyway, but apparently her friend had other plans tonight.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  Alessandra rolled her eyes. There were only a handful of bars within walking distance, but she would play along. Until Toni swung a quick right turn and she suddenly realized where they were headed.

  “Um, this may not be the best idea.”

  “Why? Tyler is meeting us there. I heard they have a new bartender. Do you think—”

  “Toni—”

  “There you are.” Tyler came up from behind them and pulled Toni toward him as if she were his trophy wife. “Is Kenton meeting us inside?”

  Before she could reply, Tyler knocked on the door three times. To any casual tourist, the nondescript door in the middle of an otherwise abandoned alley would certainly not be an attraction. But to those in the know, it was one of Stone Haven’s quirkiest attractions.

  “Password?” someone grumbled from the other side of the door.

  “Keystone.”

  Well, this would be interesting.

  The door opened to a small, dark room with no more than three tables, all empty, and two regulars sitting alone at the bar. It smelled of peanuts and stale beer. Walking toward the back of the room, Tyler knocked on yet another door and gave a new password. They strolled through the door, passing the bored-looking attendant, and climbed up a set of narrow stairs.

  Amendment 18.

  Some said it was the oldest bar in Stone Haven, a Prohibition-era throwback. The second floor opened to an opulent space. Glass-topped cocktail tables were arranged before an entire wall of skulls, and a dozen or so patrons sat at the bar or on plush couches. Red lanterns and jazz music completed the atmosphere.

  The space had always reminding her of a darker, more secretive Witch’s Brew.

  Sans the comforting coffee smell, and with plenty of alcohol.

  “The usuals?” Tyler asked them.

  And that was when she saw him.

  Amendment 18, notorious for rarely hiring new bartenders, since the owner claimed he was the only one who could make the cocktails, had been upgraded for sure. Lawrence Derrickson stood behind the bar in a crisp white shirt, black tie and suspenders.

  Toni followed her gaze to the bar and visibly paled.

  “I tried to tell you,” Alessandra whispered as Tyler made his way up to the bar and to the guy behind it. They weren’t the only ones staring, but Lawrence was staring back at them. Before Tyler could notice, Alessandra waved him and Toni off, saying, “I’ll get the first round.”

  Toni, for her part, managed to gather herself enough to hide her shock and led Tyler away from the bar.

  Alessandra shot off a quick text to Kenton, telling him where to meet them, and approached the bar.

  “So you got the job?”

  He pulled out three glasses. “Dealer’s choice?”

  She nodded.

  “I would never harm you, Alessandra.”

  The remark, so casually tossed out, took her by surprise. She closed her eyes, having learned that the cold tickling her spine came more easily when she concentrated.

  Nothing unusual.

  “You’re learning to harness your abilities,” he said, flipping bottles and pouring liquor into the glasses with the ease of someone who had done this before. “That’s good.”

  As she watched him work, Alessandra thought back to the morning they’d met. In fact, she’d thought quite a bit about every word both he and Kenton had said to her in the last week.

  “That day on the path . . . you told me you could keep running as long as I could.”

  Lawrence wasn’t the kind of guy who startled easily. But she didn’t miss the way he fumbled the bottle after she blurted out her observation.

  “What did you mean by that?”

  He’d already known she was Cheld when they’d met, which put a new spin on their first conversation.

  “I’ll take whatever you’re making.”

  So much for him being tied up until ten. Even if she hadn’t recognized the deep voice, Alessandra would have guessed it was Kenton from Lawrence’s suddenly mutinous glare.

  And . . . she could smell him.

  Even though her “abilities” seemed to have settled down, no longer spiking unexpectedly, like when she suddenly overheard conversations from clear across the room, her senses were still heightened. And now that he stood just behind her, she could feel the heat from his body.

  When Kenton put his hand on Alessandra’s back, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  The gesture wasn’t lost on Lawrence. In fact, he looked as if he wanted to kill Kenton.

  Nothing new there.

  When Lawrence pushed four drinks toward them, Kenton tossed more bills at him than was warranted.

  “What are these anyway?” she asked.

  Kenton reached for one of the glasses, a half smile on his face, either guessing which one was intended for him or choosing the one he favored. Something told her it was the former.

  “Sloe gin for the Englishman. The one next to it is yours.” Lawrence pointed to a third glass. “That’s for your friend Toni.”

  Which made Tyler’s drink, a plain rum and coke, the fourth.

  “If you want an answer to your other question, I’m happy to discuss it. Anytime. You know where to find me.”

  She restrained herself from rolling her eyes as Kenton’s piercing blue eyes bore a hole into their bartender. It seemed obvious she wouldn’t be getting any answers from him tonight.

  She and Kenton gathered up the drinks, and while he left the bar without any acknowledgment, she paused to thank Lawrence. When they got to the table Toni had picked, Kenton handed Tyler his drink with no preliminaries.

  “Here.”

  “I don’t know what they are,” Alessandra said, handing Toni her glass. “There’s a new—”

  “Bartender,” Toni ground out. “We noticed.”

  Alessandra knew better than to engage her friend at the moment, so instead she looked at Kenton. And wished she hadn’t. Based on that look, Alessandra could never decide if she wanted to wrap her arms around him, pulling him from the void that threatened to devour him, or—

  “Will you excuse us for a moment?” he asked.
>
  Not waiting for an answer, he began leading her toward a loveseat in the corner of the room. One that happened to be occupied.

  “Kenton, there are people sitting—”

  “Would you be so kind as to move your conversation to the bar?”

  The couple just stared at him. Balancing his drink in one hand, he managed to get his wallet out with the other, open it, and offer the man a folded hundred-dollar bill. Just like that, the seat was suddenly abandoned.

  She stared at him in wonder as they sat.

  “Do you make it a habit of paying exorbitant amounts of money to get what you want?”

  “Yes.” He pointedly looked at the large space between them. “Do you make it a habit of avoiding men who are attempting to get close to you?”

  She’d sat far away from him on purpose. When Kenton was close, it did strange things to her insides. And not of the Cheld sort. She wanted to keep her head tonight—except she also didn’t.

  “That’s a loaded question,” she admitted. Taking a sip of her drink, Alessandra’s eyes flew to the bar. How could Lawrence have known exactly what kind of drink she would like best? The bartender’s attention was elsewhere, and when she followed his gaze, she realized he was staring at Toni. Interesting . . . her original plan seemed to have taken root.

  “Why encourage your friend’s interest in Lawrence if she’s otherwise attached?”

  When she turned back to Kenton, heat pooled in her core. His eyes reminded her of that night—of how he’d insisted she look at him as she came.

  “I don’t like Tyler,” she said plainly, not mincing words. “I’ve never understood why Toni likes him. In every other way, she’s an intelligent woman. But somehow, she can’t see him for what he is.”

  Kenton didn’t react at all, his face as still as if it had been carved from marble.

  “As for your first question . . .”

  Another sip.

  “Toni thinks I’m gun-shy. She says every doomed relationship of mine stems back to my father’s sudden abandonment of our family. Of the hole he left that was never quite filled.”