Bite Me (17 page)

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.”

“Why?”

“Because I really want to.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Vic placed her on the ground and began backing away from her. “Yeah, uh, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Really?” Livy watched him a moment before she began to move forward, matching him step for step.

“And why don’t you think it’s a good idea?” she asked.

“It’s just not a good idea. We should just stay friends.”

Vic kept moving, and Livy kept tracking him around the kitchen. He felt like a cobra she’d locked on.

Livy gave a very small shrug. “You don’t think I’m pretty. Is that it?”

“Are you kidding? You’re gorgeous.”

“You think I’m gorgeous?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

He looped around the island and she was right with him.

“You think my shoulders are too wide?” she asked. “Make me look too square?”

“Your shoulders work fine because you’ve got that long, sloping neck, and surprisingly long legs for your height.”

“Tits too small?”

“Perfect for your size.”

“Think it’s tacky I used
tits
instead of
breasts
?”

“Actually, I thought it was kind of sexy.”

Vic’s back suddenly collided with a corner and before he could maneuver out of it, Livy slapped her hands on the counter on either side of him.

Livy gazed up at him. “Can I ask you a question, Vic?”

“If you really have to.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Not exactly . . . unless I made you mad and have no way to protect my eyes and major arteries.”

“You know,” she went on, “Toni thinks you’re shy. But I don’t.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I don’t think you’re comfortable around people, but that’s not the same as shy. You’re not desperate to be around people but emotionally unable to connect. You just want people to leave you alone most of the time.”

“Okay.”

“Just like most bears. And the longer I’ve gotten to know you, the more I realize that you
live
bear.”

“I live bear?”

“Yeah. You live like a bear, which makes me wonder about the feline in you. I mean, Novikov has that weird suddenly growing mane thing he does when he’s angry. But I haven’t seen that with you. I haven’t seen a true, outward sign of your feline side.”

“What is your point, Olivia?”

“I just want you to tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Is the problem that you live like a bear”—she leaned in, lowered her voice even more—“but fuck like a cat? And is that what has you completely freaked out right now? Because the cat in you is the side you can’t control?”

Vic worked hard not to take his eyes off Livy, not to look away. Not to show her any weakness or that there was any truth to her words at all. But she did look away . . . and down at his crotch.

When she finally looked back at his face, she didn’t smirk. She grinned.

“Yeah,” she sighed out, her voice triumphant. “That’s what I thought.”

C
HAPTER
15

V
ic grabbed Livy by her upper arms and Livy wondered if he was going to pull her close to kiss her or slam her facedown on the kitchen island so he could fuck her raw. She was definitely up for either.

Sadly, Vic did neither. He simply moved Livy out of his way and practically ran out of the kitchen.

Yep. You spooked him,
she thought as she followed after him.

True. It wasn’t the first time she’d freaked out a man. In fact, in the past, freaking out men had been something she’d often done for fun. But she’d thought she had a better connection with Vic. Had always thought he’d understood her and liked her despite that understanding.

She guessed she was wrong.

Livy made it into the hallway leading to the front door. Vic was already at the door, but seemed suddenly confused with basic lock operation.

“Vic,” she called out, walking toward him, “you don’t have to leave. I promise to—”

Livy stopped talking, her face too busy grimacing at seeing Vic Barinov finally manage to open the front door but also slam it into his head.

He snarled in pain and stumbled back, and Livy walked quickly to his side. But by the time she reached him, blood was already dripping down his face from where he’d split his forehead open.

She took hold of his forearm with one hand and closed the door with the other.

“I’m fine,” he kept saying. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. And I’m not about to send you out into the Massachusetts cold while you’re bleeding from the head. I’m not that big a bitch.”

Vic gazed down at her, his left eye blinking excessively because of the blood that was dripping into it. “You’re not a bitch. Who told you that you’re a bitch?”

“Really, Barinov? That’s what you’re worried about?”

Livy pulled Vic down the hall and into the living room. She pushed him onto the couch and studied the wound. “Stay here,” she ordered.

In the first-floor bathroom, Livy dug up a first-aid kit, clearly created for both human and shifter since she found muzzles of several sizes as well as bandages and pain ointment.

Shaking her head, Livy ignored the muzzles, grabbed several large towels, and returned to the living room.

“Get up,” she ordered Vic. He stood and she placed one of the bigger towels under him. “That way we won’t get blood on it,” she explained as she pushed him back onto the couch.

Livy silently cleaned up the wound and Vic’s face. Although his skin had split where the door had hit him, it hadn’t done any major damage from what she could see. He would, however, have to suffer through a lump on his head for a little bit.

And while Livy worked, Vic watched her. Closely.

Finally, when Livy was nearly done, Vic said, “Well . . . this is awkward, huh?”

“No.”

“You don’t think this is awkward?”

“No.”

She opened up an oversized adhesive bandage. She stepped in close so that she could place it perfectly over his wound. She rested the palms of her hands on either side of his head and carefully lowered the bandage with the tips of her fingers. She’d nearly placed the adhesive part against Vic’s skin when he snapped, “How can you not think this is awkward?”

Livy jerked back. “Do you want me to lie and say I feel awkward? I can do that.”

“I never want you to lie to me,” he muttered.

“Okay.” Livy moved back, her legs straddling one of Vic’s so that she could get in close.

And again, she’d nearly placed the bandage, when he snarled, “I just don’t understand how you cannot think this is strange after what just happened.”

Livy closed her eyes. She’d placed the bandage but now it was crooked, part of his wound exposed. And, even if his wound had been covered, the obsessive photographer in her could never have let that stand.

So, Livy ripped the bandage off Vic’s head and reached for another one.

“Ow!”

She slapped the fingers he was about to use to touch his swollen head. “Don’t touch.”

After removing a new bandage from the packaging and peeling off the paper that protected the adhesive, she looked directly at Vic and said, “Don’t say a word until I’m done. Understand me?”

“Yes.”

Livy again took up her position straddling Vic’s leg and carefully placed the bandage. Once it was on and it was perfect, she let out a sigh and began to back away from the big idiot. But before she’d pulled more than an inch away from him, Vic’s arm wrapped around her waist. He didn’t say anything, though. He just kept her there.

“We’re okay, Vic,” she told him, assuming he was still bothered about what this would do to their friendship.

“I panicked,” he admitted, still not releasing her.

“You’re not the first guy I’ve ever made bolt from the room. I doubt you’ll be my last.”

Vic wrapped his other arm around Livy’s waist and pulled her in between his legs. He rested his head against her chest and then just stayed that way. Without saying a word.

Confused, Livy stood there, with her hands kept at her sides.

“Livy?”

“Yeah?”

Vic leaned his head back, his chin still resting on her chest. “Some days . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Some days you make me want to drive a railroad spike through my head.”

“I have to admit . . . I did not see the conversation going that way.”

“Do you even like me? Or am I just . . . convenient? Like an open window at someone’s empty house? Because I have to tell you, at the moment . . . I’m feeling more like an open window.”

Livy rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Vic suddenly stood, forcing Livy to step back, but he still kept her encircled in his arms as he towered over her. “What I’m asking you,” he said, his voice rising with each word, “is have you secretly wanted me all this time,
or would Shen be getting this same offer to fuck you like a tiger if
he’d
picked you up at the precinct?
”

In that moment Livy realized that honey badgers truly
were
fearless, because Vic Barinov had bellowed the last half of that sentence only a few inches from her face and she hadn’t flinched. Although she could have sworn the windows behind the couch shook a little. Nah. Probably her imagination.

Livy thought about Vic’s question, and replied, “I never would have said that to Shen . . . he’s not half-cat.”

“See?”
he yelled. “That is
not
an answer! At least not one I’m willing to—”

Livy went up on the coffee table behind her, slapped her hands hard against Vic’s face to hold him there, and kissed him. Again.

Vic again tried to pull her off. “Livy,” he growled against her mouth. “Just—”

“No,” she said, tightening her grip on his face and wrapping her legs around his waist so she now clung to him. “No talking. Just kiss me, Vic.” She pulled back a bit so she could look him in the eye, but she kept her grip tight. “Kiss me now and I promise we’ll talk tomorrow. We’ll talk all you want about anything you want. Tomorrow.”

Vic’s eyes narrowed on her, the gold lighter than usual. Lighter and brighter and untrusting. “You better not be lying to me,” he warned, his low voice nothing more at this point than an angry growl. “You know I hate it when you lie to me.”

Livy leaned in, placed a soft kiss on Vic’s mouth. A small one. Then another. And another. Moving from one spot to another. Teasing him. Sometimes nibbling his lip here, then there.

She had no idea how long she kept it up. Livy simply lost herself in it. Enjoying the feel of her mouth against Vic’s.

But suddenly, Vic made a chuffing sound, and he gripped Livy’s head between his hands, holding her in place. That’s when he took her mouth. His lips pressed hard against hers. Livy opened to him and Vic’s tongue was immediately there. Seeking, exploring. Taking over as felines like to do.

It felt . . . perfect.

Like the perfect picture. Maybe you didn’t know it was perfect when you shot it, but then you saw it on a print or on your screen and you knew. You knew. And this time, with Vic, it was the same thing. Weird . . . then perfect.

Vic pulled away, both of them gasping for air. He set her down, not gently, either.

“Get naked,” he barked at her. “And get upstairs.” Then he walked off.

Kind of confused about which she should do first—shouldn’t she go upstairs and then get naked? If she got naked down here, then she’d have to get dressed down here tomorrow—Livy just stood there.

A few seconds later, Vic stalked back into the living room.

“Too long,” he barked, picking her up around the waist, and securing her under his arm like so much laundry.

It would be humiliating if it was anyone else. Anyone else in the entire
world
. But it was Vic. Polite, sweetly charming, socially inept Vic.

Livy was just so entertained by this new side of him that she really didn’t give a shit where he carried her.

As long as he fucked her once he got there.

Vic took Livy to the master bedroom. His careful, practical bear side had gone into hibernation a good ten minutes ago. Now, all that was left was the cranky feline that had made Vic give up dating full-human girls when he was seventeen. They couldn’t handle the cranky feline when it came out. Few could.

And yet, when he threw Livy on the bed, she laughed. Hard.

Deciding that Livy’s laughter meant she was still taking too long to get naked, Vic reached down and yanked off her boots. He didn’t even bother to untie them. Couldn’t wait. Didn’t want to.

Once he’d done that, Livy had only managed to get her jeans unzipped, which, again . . . not fast enough!

Honestly, how hard was it for a woman not wearing many clothes in the first place to get said clothes off in a timely manner?

Vic caught hold of the waistband of Livy’s jeans and yanked them down. They were kind of tight, though, so he had to lift her legs up and drag them off. Livy’s legs flipped over her head and she ended up rolling backward until she rested on her knees. Now she only wore the T-shirt. He must have taken off her panties along with her jeans.

Startled black eyes blinked up at him, her hands resting on her bare knees.

“You all right?” Vic asked.

“Yep.”

Taking Livy at her word, he took a step toward her.

“Condoms?” Livy asked.

“What?”

“Con.
Doms
. Remember those?” She pointed at her crotch. “No one gets in here without one.”

Annoyed he hadn’t thought about that before now, Vic growled and looked around the room. He didn’t think Rita kept any in her houses unless you specified an “adult weekend” when the reservations were made. But the thought of leaving a nearly naked Livy to go hunt some down through Honeyville was bringing his fangs out.

“Get my backpack,” Livy suddenly ordered him.

“What?”

“My backpack. You brought it in the house, didn’t—”

Vic didn’t wait for her to finish. He just stalked out of the room and went to search out her backpack.