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Authors: C.D. Hussey

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: de Sang: Embrace Your Blood Lust
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Kate couldn't keep her eyes off him as he casually returned to his bar duties, chatting up the patrons and filling their drinks with calm ease. It was like nothing weird had happened. She watched him for a good ten minutes, amazed by his
laissez faire
attitude.

She tried to bring her attention back to Melanie and Hail, she really did, but she couldn't stop thinking about the stupid bartender. Of course, with her tablemates pawing at each other, it wasn't hard. She had no desire to get in the middle of that. The activity in the bar had picked up, but even the dozen or so people dancing right next to her couldn't distract her from thoughts about Slade. And she loved watching people dance.

When Kate couldn't stand it any longer, she rose and approached the bar. Slade kept his crimson eyes on her the entire time. Even as he mixed a drink for a patron, even as she leaned against the bar, slowly and deliberately fiddling with the straws nestled in the black plastic bar caddy, his gaze never faltered. "So…" she said finally, lifting her eyes to meet his. "What was that all about?" She gestured toward the door.

Slade shrugged. "One of the local Sangs thought it'd be fun to play with a tourist. Guess her boyfriend didn't like it."

"Sang, like a Human Vampire."

"Something like that."

"Like you?"

With a grin, Slade leaned forward, resting his elbows and bulked up forearms on the smooth wood. His pleasure at her interest was obvious. "I told you, I'm the real deal."

When he'd been dealing with the drunk boyfriend, she'd found his cocky confidence somewhat appealing. Now it was just annoying. "What exactly does being the 'real deal' entail?" She actually air-quoted,
real deal
. It was not her proudest moment.

"What do you want to know?"

The question was meant to be an open invitation for him to educate her. If she only wanted to know whether or not he drank blood, she would have asked that. Slade knew it; she could tell by the way he was grinning at her. He just wanted her to coax the information out of him.

Fine. She could play his twenty-questions game. "For starters, I take it you drink blood."

"Yep."

"What do you get out of it?"

"I get to stay healthy."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Exactly what I said."

"So you need blood to stay healthy?"

"I do."

"What would happen if you didn't consume it? Would it kill you?"

"No. I might want to die, but I'd live."

 
She sighed. Prying information out of him was extremely irritating. "Well, like, what are your symptoms?"

"Think Chronic Fatigue Syndrome."

His quick answers only reinforced this question/answer session was merely a game he was playing with her. The cocky twist of his lips was making her want to jump over the bar and strangle him.

"So, you don't get any extra benefits at all?"

"Unfortunately not."

She gave him a long once over. Through his fitted T-shirt, she could clearly make out the outline of his pecs as they strained against the fabric, and his arms were so bulky, the Lycra was doing double-time to keep them contained. "Not even this," she gestured across his chest, ignoring the smug smile he wore. "Blood consumption doesn't give you some sort of super strength or extra muscle building powers?"

"No, the steroids do that." His face was expressionless.

She rolled her eyes. "Figures."

"Although..." a smile cracked the deadpan, "I'm pretty sure the steroids farmers put in my hamburger probably have less to do with it than the hours I spend in the gym. Us meatheads like to hit the weights, you know."

As hard as she tried to fight it, she could barely contain the grin threatening to lift the corners of her mouth. "That's not very vampire-like of you."

"Not at all."

She pulled over a barstool. The number of questions she had warranted taking a seat. And at this rate, it would take a while to get through them.

"Can I make you another drink?" Slade asked, retrieving a clean glass from beneath the bar and wagging it at her. "No charge. I can't stand to watch you drink that watered down shit any longer.

She glanced toward the offending cocktail left behind at the table. There wasn't a square of ice left in it. "Sure." Kate wasn't much of a drinker anymore — between Melanie and herself someone had to stay moderately sober — but she certainly wasn't against it. However, she'd done enough damage to her liver in college she now tried to minimize the booze consumption. It wasn't the easiest task in a city like New Orleans. "So, you really don't have any special powers or enhanced senses or extra long life or anything?"

"I'm not sure about the extra long life yet," he winked at her, "but no to the other stuff."

"Huh." She was surprised. From what Hail described, and from what she'd seen with Angel, she assumed he'd get something special from it besides just health.

Slade squeezed a lime into the clear, bubbling liquid and slid the glass to her. "Is that all you wanted to know?"

She took a quick sip. Once again, he had poured a superior beverage. "No. But you know that already. You could volunteer the information instead of going through this song and dance."

"The more questions you ask, the longer you have to sit here and talk to me."

"Please. Spare me. You just like making me beg you for information."

"Maybe I like being near you."

The comment caught her off guard and she nearly choked on the mouthful of liquid in her mouth. "Uh-huh." She managed to get the words out without coughing and with a heaping dose of sarcasm at the same time. "How often do you need to drink it?" she asked instead, hoping to move the conversation along.

"Couple times a week. Usually thirty to forty mL," he added quickly, before she had the chance to open her mouth and ask the question, "how much?"

Lest he think she was no longer playing his game, she inclined her head and toasted him. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

"Do you have a girlfriend or something you get it from?"

"No. Are you volunteering?"

"Um, no." There was no way she could ever date a player-type like Slade. Between her brother and the guys her sister dated in high school, and the one she married, Kate knew what his type was like. She preferred
not
to be cheated on in a relationship. "Do you do the bagged blood then?"

"Wish I could, but I can't."

"Why? It doesn't have the right energy or something?" She could tell by Slade's expression her tone had come out more mocking than she intended. He didn't seem offended though, only amused.

"If only it were that simple. The anti-coagulants make me puke."

At least when he answered her questions he was blunt and didn't pussyfoot around.

"Then where…?"

"I have a Donor. She's a friend of mine."

"Oh." Kate felt her eyebrows push together. "But she's not a lover or anything?"

"Nope."

"Well, then, how—? I mean, doesn't it make it awkward to…get the blood." She was trying to envision one of her male friends, Clint maybe, nursing blood from somewhere on her body and couldn't. It was just too weird.

"Come with me," Slade said as he stepped from behind the bar.

"Where?"

"Some things are more easily shown than told."

"You're the second person who's told me that."

"Who was the first?"

"Angel."

"Ah. Makes sense." He was standing next to the bar waiting for her to follow. "Are you coming or not?" he asked.

"I don't think so." Did he really believe she was going to just traipse off with him to some undisclosed location?

"Give me a break, Kate. You're the one with all the friggin' questions. If you want me to be your
vampirepedia
, you're gonna have to trust me a little."

There was something about the challenge in his tone making her tail puff up. "Sure. Fine." Kate rose roughly and moved to stand beside him. When he just stood there staring at her with the dumb grin of his, she said, "Well, are you taking me to this magical vampire secret holding place or not?"

"Hey Onyx," he called over her head. The dark haired waitress looked up from where she sat chatting with patrons. "Watch the bar for me, baby. I'll be right back." When she nodded, he turned back to Kate. "Shall we?"

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

He led her to a closed door and paused to retrieve a set of keys buried deep in the front pocket of his black slacks. After unlocking the door and shoving it open, he reached across the doorway and clicked the light on. "Go ahead," he told her.

She entered cautiously, half expecting to find a pile of bodies or a dungeon or something. The room was spotlessly clean and filled with stainless steel equipment, counters and chairs. Various medical looking devices were neatly arranged on tables or hung on walls.

Tucked away in a corner, the bright red biohazard collection bin stood out in bold contrast against the stark metal.

She turned to Slade in awe. "This is amazing," she said as he was gently closing the door. "Is this all used to draw blood?" She indicated the various appliances around her.

Slade nodded.

"I thought people just bit each other."

"Some do, but it's generally frowned upon. Not only is the human mouth filthy, biting can be really painful and can actually do a lot of damage."

"How does it all work? Show me something. What are the glass cups for?" Her enthusiasm was more blatant than she intended. She couldn't contain it though. Everything about this room fascinated her.

Slade pulled what looked a large shot-glass from a shelf. "These are for cupping. After heating the cup, you place the opening of the glass flush against the skin like so," he pressed the glass into the fleshy part of her shoulder. "As the air inside compresses, a vacuum is created and blood is pulled out."

"Straight through the skin? Sounds painful."

"I'm sure it would be if it worked like that. You lance the skin first, otherwise you just get a big circular hickey."

"So, is this how you get blood from your donor?"

"No, I use these." He grabbed a couple sealed tubes and an unopened needle.

Frowning, she said, "Isn't that was they use at the doctor's office?"

"That they are."

She grimaced. "Seems so sterile."

"Definitely not my first choice."

"What is?" She noticed her body was suddenly close enough to him to feel the heat radiating from his big body. He hadn't moved though, Kate had.

She was pretty tall and Slade wasn't much taller than her, maybe five feet eleven inches, but what he lacked in height he more than made up in body mass. He dwarfed her. His bicep was as big as her thigh and his chest was three times wider than she was. As massive and thick as his fingers were, she could only imagine what other parts of him might be like. The thought made her pulse quicken.

Her nearness did not escape his notice. Leaning close, he innocently brushed his arm against hers as he returned the vials to their home. At least the act seemed innocent enough, her reaction was anything but. Her arm lit on fire as every nerve sprang to life. She caught a scent of his rich cologne mixing perfectly with his own unique odor and her core clenched tightly in response. She was shocked by her body's reaction to him. The men she was normally attracted to were waif-like hipsters, not bulked out hunks amped up on testosterone. By Kate's standards, Lohr was the perfect male specimen.

"I prefer my donor to be a lover," Slade said, his voice low and thick. "Blood may be a necessity for me but I'd rather receive it from someone I'm fucking."

"How eloquently put," she replied sarcastically. Unfortunately, his crassness didn't reduce her unnatural attraction to him.

More than a little annoyed by her body's reaction, she tried to put a few feet between them, but her legs had other plans and refused to budge. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest instead.

Slade shrugged. "I'm good with a lot of things. Words aren't one. But if you're suggesting fucking is somehow less intimate than making love, you're dead wrong."

She knew she'd regret asking, but couldn't help herself. "How so?"

"Say I was going to make love to you right now." He moved to stand eye to eye with her. "I would gently take your shoulders and guide you backwards until your back was pressed into the wall behind you. I might run my hands as light as possible up and down these gorgeous arms and the entire time I'd have my mouth against yours in a soft, sensual kiss." Except for the kissing, he put his words into actions. Cupping her bare shoulders with his massive hands, he eased her back. His touch was surprisingly delicate and surprisingly made her heart race erratically. "I'd wrap your long, sexy legs around my waist and slowly, gently, slide my cock into you." He didn't follow through with that action. Instead, he ran his fingers over her thighs with a spider light touch calling every goose-bump on her legs to attention.

When her back was against the wall, he leaned in close like he was going to kiss her and then moved abruptly to her ear. "But if I was going to fuck you." He gripped her thighs tightly and pushed his hips into her. "Maybe my hands would be rougher and there'd be nothing slow and gentle about my cock, but there'd be no shortage of passion. Every thrust, every touch would convey how fucking sexy I find you."

Clearing her throat, she tried to ignore the heat building between her legs. "Your act is pretty good. I'm sure it drops a lot of panties." He yielded easily to her pathetic shove, but the motion only moved him half a step back. "Do you do puppet theater too?"

"Only on Tuesdays. Coming to my next show?"

"Only if you tell me what that thing is?" She pointed to what looked like a pair of metal icicles dangling from a hook on the wall.

"Ah, the fangs." He pulled them down. Mounted on looped leather straps were two curved, stainless steel, extremely sharp looking teeth.

"Is that what made the marks on that girl?"

"Most likely."

She unconsciously leaned closer to him to get a better look. "How do they work?"

"You put them on, like so." He slipped his first and middle fingers through leather loops, and the pads of his fingers looked they'd grown a couple of metal fangs. "They're very sharp, so with very little pressure, you can easily pierce the skin." Interlacing the fingers of his free hand into her hair, he very gently tilted her head to the side. He traced the curved line of her neck with the tips of the fangs. "Most like to be pierced on the neck right about here." He paused about two inches above her collarbone.

"Does it hurt?" Her breath caught halfway down her throat. She couldn't seem to control herself when he was so close, no matter how hard she tried.

"I don't think you'll notice or care," he murmured into her ear. "But just in case, I'll only use one fang."

"Okay." Her lungs no longer worked. Along with the rest of her body, they were clenched tight in anticipation. She could think of nothing but him: the rock hard bulk of his body next to her, the warmth of his breath on her neck… When the metal fang pierced her skin, a rush of energy jumped to her core. She could practically feel her clit swell, and the light cotton fabric of her panties rubbing against it was almost enough to make her come.

Slade gripped at her hips. "I can't wait to taste you," he growled.

Neither could she. She wanted to feel his mouth on her neck, wanted his tongue licking at her blood. Her entire body was quivering with that desire. Even if she wanted to deny him, there was no way her body was going to let her.

Tilting her head even further to expose more of her neck, she whispered, "Do it. Drink me."

A moan slid from the back of his throat as his lips covered the small puncture mark dripping blood down her neck. As his tongue lapped at the escaping blood, the hand with the strap-on fangs locked in her hair while the other hand explored the curve of her body, moving lower and lower until his fingers pressed against her throbbing clit. She rolled her hips against the touch, the circling pressure sending sharp jolts of electricity up her spine.

"You are so fucking hot," he moaned. Pushing his hips hard into the side of her ass, his cock was now a huge, rock hard mass. He wrapped his lips over the curve of her neck, sucking harder on the skin. The pressure on her clit increased and between the overwhelming sensations of his mouth on her neck, his dick grinding against her and his fingers on her sex, she was about to explode. When one thick finger slid under the edge of her panties and into her, she nearly did.

"Goddamn, your pussy is so wet and slick," he thrust the finger deeper into her, rubbing his thumb over her clit. "I can't wait to be inside you."

The orgasm screaming to be released suddenly snapped her brain to attention. What the hell was she doing?

"What are you doing?" she yelled at him instead. How did she let herself get into this situation?

He paused. "Um…"

Shoving him back, she hissed, "Get off me." He stepped back, looking completely confused. "I'm not the type of girl who gets fingered in the back of a bar."

"I'm sorry…? I'll stop, I mean, I thought you were on board."

"Well I'm not." Squirming, she tried desperately to get around him without touching him. Her brain and body reeling, she had to get as far away from him as possible. "I gotta go."

"Kate wait, you're still bleeding. Let me at least clean you up."

She touched the wet wound on her neck. "I'm fine. It's fine."

She'd made it to the door and had the knob in her hand when she foolishly glanced back at him. He had the most befuddled, puppy dog expression on his handsome, Italian face and even through the loose fabric of his slacks, she could still clearly see the outline of his erect, generously sized cock.

A fresh wave of wetness seeped into her panties. "I'm sorry, I…" Worried she might say or do something stupid again, she didn't finish the sentence. Yanking the door open, she bolted through it before she had a chance to change her mind.

* * * *

Slade blinked at the gaping door in utter confusion.

His dick throbbed angrily at her abrupt exit and as Kate's sweet scent wafted up from the finger that had been inside her exquisite silk interior, it bucked violently against his pants.

"Fuck that," he muttered and quickly washed his hands. Not that he wouldn't have minded smelling her all night, but the last thing he needed to fight for the rest of his shift was a raging hard-on.

What went wrong? It wasn't like she hadn't been receptive. The way she'd rolled her perfect ass against him and that slick, wet pussy was pretty powerful evidence she'd been as turned on as him. So why the fuck had she run out like an accosted teenage girl? Two more seconds and she would've been coming all over his hand.

He shifted uncomfortable as his cock twitched again. Goddamn. Those soft, creamy thighs, her perfect pale skin, the way she whimpered softly as he took her sweet blood…he was ready to crawl out of his skin to be near her again. No amount of soap could erase the memory and just thinking about those two seconds he'd been inside her were making him want to blow his load.

"Sorry about the redhead." Slade had been too distracted to notice Satin join him.

"Yeah, me too." He was way more disappointed than he should be. Kate was just one woman in a sea of them.

But that was a load of crap and he knew it. He might not be a stranger to casual encounters with the opposite sex — random hookups were easy in this profession, and within the Community — but he was no longer a casual blood drinker and hadn't been since he left his twenties behind. That he'd found the temptation of drinking from Kate too enticing to resist said loads about her appeal.

"I'll make you forget all about her." Satin was now pressed against him but he ignored her. With Kate running out like the building was on fire or some shit, Satin sliding up and down his side like he was a greased up stripper pole was the least of his concerns.

Maybe he'd come on too strong or too fast. Things
had
gotten carried away pretty quickly. But Kate was the one who offered her blood, and she certainly hadn't resisted any of his other advances. If he'd thought for one minute she wasn't as turned on as he was, he would have quit. No problem.

But for her to protest she was somehow "not that type of girl" was just fucking ridiculous. They were both consenting adults. From where he stood, a little heavy petting in the back of a bar was not that big of a deal. There was a lot worse that went on in this room.

In fact, his cock had somehow left his pants and Satin's mouth was all over it.

He jerked back, surprised by how wrong the act felt. As hard as Kate had left him, he should be welcoming a random, friendly mouth hug, not disgusted by it. Now if it were Kate's full lips wrapped around his dick…

What the fuck was wrong with him?

From Satin's baffled expression, she was obviously wondering the same thing. "What's the matter?"

He quickly tucked the escaped member back into the safety of his slacks. "Just not into it tonight," he mumbled, unsure what else to say.

"What?" She practically snapped the word from her lips. Rising from her knees, she glared at him from under her heavy, black bangs. "It's the redhead isn't it?"

"I gotta get back to work." Taking her shoulder, he firmly but gently guided her out of the room, pulling the door closed behind them. "Some other time perhaps." He said it but seriously doubted it. At the moment, there was only one woman's mouth he wanted on his cock. It was a weird concept for Slade. After all, he'd only begun considering a steady, monogamous relationship six months ago.

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