Don't Blackmail the Vampire (12 page)

Fingers digging into the comforter, he groaned.

The woman tortured him with her mouth, never using her hands, never taking more than the tip of him inside. She licked and nipped and sucked softly down his shaft.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he managed. He was so hard he thought he just might prove physics wrong and burst, and his teeth ached fiercely.

“Not yet.” She grinned, then—finally—using her hand, she pumped him slowly. After a wink, she took him into her mouth.

His hips surged, but she was ready for him and pulled back until he moved away.

“Fuck. You are trying to kill me.” It would be a hell of a way to die.

“Want me to stop?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Hell no.”

After that, words were beyond him. Using her mouth, she took him to new heights before stopping, only so she could work him up again. Finally, it was too much.

She seemed to sense it; she was done playing.

With her mouth and hands, she worked him, using what she’d learned about his body to find his limits. Sweet tension built within him, and he gasped, trying to stop the pulsating pressure from pushing him over the edge.

“Stop. Let me. I’m going to—”

But she didn’t stop, and for the life of him, he couldn’t find the will to make her. The pressure crested and he shattered, his world breaking into pieces. He cried out, feeling the comforter tear under his grip. And she didn’t relent until she’d drained every bit of pleasure from him that he could give.

What felt like hours later, but must have been only minutes, he managed to open his eyes and look down at her where she still perched between his legs. She looked so satisfied that he wanted to eat her up.

With a quick tug, he pulled her onto the bed next to him and hugged her close. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. Are you complaining?”

“Hell no.”

The sound of her muffled laughter vibrated against his chest.

With how she’d relaxed him, he could have fallen asleep right then and there, but already his need rose again. Need for her, yes, but even more pressing, a need to please her. Not for pride’s sake, which had always made him a considerate lover—if not a long-term one—but because he wanted her to feel good. Wanted her to feel as amazing as he felt right now. Wanted to know he could make her feel the kind of bliss she brought out in him.

He adjusted his position slightly so he could reach her mouth and then kissed her softly on the lips. “You make me crazy.”

“I love that I can make you that crazy.”

“You would, siren.”

The slightly embarrassed grin that tugged on the edges of her lips exploded into a bright smile. “Siren? I like that. Of course, if you ever hear me sing, it’ll ruin the illusion.”

He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “That was amazing. But now it’s my turn.”

…

Rachel squealed when he flipped her onto her back, only to then step back and toss the rest of his clothes to the floor. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from him. Away from his hard body and light eyes, and the mischief that gleamed inside them. There was little sign of the man who’d seemed so lighthearted, so charming, yet wholly without a serious bone in his body. This man was fun, but also thoughtful. Relentless. And the thought of what he would do to her now made her shiver.

The power she’d felt making a man as virile and sexy as Charles squirm was heady stuff. And it had transitioned into straight lust.

Sure, she wasn’t a total prude. It wasn’t the first time she’d gone down on a man, but she’d never done so as bravely. Never with the lights on. Never with him watching her as intently as Charles had.

She’d liked it.

He slid down her body, using his mouth and hands cleverly so thinking was almost impossible. His mouth closed over her nipple, and she gasped when he bit down, gently. His other hand moved down to stroke her, and then he groaned.

“You’re so ready for me. Did you like what you did to me?”

“Yes,” she gasped, and immediately flushed.

“I love that you blush so easily.” With a quick motion, he nipped the side of her breast and licked away the almost-pain. Then he made his way down her stomach, still working her softly with his hand.

When he sucked on her hip bone, she gasped. Then he stopped touching her where she needed him most, instead placing his hands on either side of her so he could watch her reverently.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, and she couldn’t even find it in her to respond.

The position. The lights. His openly intent gaze. It should have all made her feel more exposed than she had when she first took him into her mouth. But with every caress, every sweet murmured compliment, she felt safer. More relaxed. Had she ever felt so wonderfully confident and happy when so exposed?

No.

The soft brush of his fingertips over her mound distracted her. His touch was light. He massaged her thigh gently with one hand, while every so delicately exploring her with the other.

Then he kissed her most sensitive place. Closed mouth and a gentle press. But just the soft touch almost put her over the edge.

“Charles!”

He ignored her plea, and continued his achingly slow assault with his mouth. But it wasn’t hard enough, wet enough to relieve the ache inside of her. She struggled to push herself closer, but he pulled back, not allowing her any relief.

He was definitely trying to kill her.

“Being vengeful isn’t a good quality,” she said.

“But it’s so sweet,” he said. With a quick flick of his tongue, he tasted her, and she gasped. “Vengeance, too.” Then, hands holding her legs firmly apart, he increased the pressure of his mouth. He licked and nipped at her bud before dipping his tongue inside her.

“Oh, God.” She tried to press against him, the sensation too overwhelming, but he held her in place.

“I can’t—please…” She couldn’t voice what she was asking for, exactly. Relief. Sweet relief from the pressure. From the need.

“What do you want, sweetness?” His voice was a low rumble.

She couldn’t respond, but her hips bucked toward him.

“Do you want this?” He slipped a finger inside her, and then continued his assault with his mouth. Expertly he licked and sucked and teased, while working her with one finger, then two.

The orgasm hit her hard, and she moaned and squirmed. The next thing she knew his body was covering hers, and he was pushing inside of her. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders as pleasure ricocheted through her body.

“Fuck,” he gasped softly, mouth by her ear. “So fucking perfect.” He pulled back from her and licked his lips, still moving in and out of her body in a steady rhythm. “You taste like heaven. I wish I could taste all of you.”

The orgasm left her disconnected, and she couldn’t quite wrap her brain around what he’d said.

“Didn’t you?” she managed, moving her hips to meet his thrust, the sweet need for him growing inside her once again.

“Not quite.” His pace increased, and she gripped his ass with her fingers, reduced to hanging on for the ride. Sweet pressure built between her legs, and she moaned.

Mouth only a hairbreadth from her ear, he murmured, “Everything but your blood.”

The idea was startling and dangerous and too much for her. She cried out and he thrust into her, hard. This time, they shattered together.

Chapter Nine

S
haken by the passion she’d shared with Charles, Rachel jumped into the shower while he got dressed. For some reason, lying there in bed with him, even for a few minutes, felt too intimate. Too…couple-like. And she wasn’t about to let her brain and emotions pick up on that and start to get attached. Not to mention that earlier when he’d mentioned tasting her blood, she hadn’t been turned off. Which she should totally should have been.

Friends with benefits. Friends with benefits. Friends with benefits.

She chanted it in her head a few more times until the panic gripping her chest began to subside.

“Can I check my email on your computer?” Charles asked, startling her into inhaling some of the shower water streaming over her face.

“Sure,” she said, coughing. The man needed a bell around his neck or something.

“You okay in there?”

She managed an affirmative noise, and after a moment’s hesitation, he left her in the bathroom alone.

The warm water beat against her back, but it didn’t provide her any relief. An emptiness filled her belly, her chest. He was right in the next room, but she was under no illusions that he was any closer to her than the day they’d met.

She’d allowed herself to care for him, and now what?

Now he’d continue on with his life, and she hers. There just wasn’t any other option. She wasn’t foolish enough to convince herself that he was the settling-down type—he’d told her himself that he wasn’t. A couple of fun—amazing—rolls in the hay weren’t going to change a man who’d lived a bachelor’s life for decades.

Decades.
Yeah. He was a freaking vampire.

She would have suspected him of planting a suggestion in her mind, since she seemed to forget what he was so often. But she didn’t think he’d lied to her about the amount of manipulation he’d pulled off in her brain. No. The reason she forgot was simpler, yet more frightening: because he seemed so very human. He wasn’t dark and scary and broody; he was sexy and funny and kind.

What type of a vampire was
kind
, anyway?

She shook her head fiercely, spraying the tiles with water from her hair. It did absolutely nothing to clear her head. Nothing to rid her of the thought that she’d been cursed to care about a man she had no right to care for. No chance with. What the hell was wrong with her? She knew better than this. She knew better than to fall for any man, let alone one like him. But despite her best efforts, she wasn’t keeping up her guard.

She was falling in love.

Her stomach clenched at the thought. She hadn’t known him long enough to really be in love, she knew that. Infatuation with no little amount of fascination and lust plagued her. That, she could deal with, keep in a little box in her head. But she liked him. As a person. As a friend. She enjoyed spending time with him and would, even if they didn’t have this attraction. That kind of thing was tougher to keep in perspective, especially when it came with amazing sex and a smile that made her forget her own name.

A swift knock on the bathroom door yanked her from her worried thoughts.

“Yeah?” she called.

Charles’s head, only a vague silhouette through the shower door, peeked in. “I’m meeting up with Brent. Keep your phone close.”

“Okay,” she said, willing him with her mind to go away. She couldn’t deal with all this right now. Couldn’t deal with her feelings, especially not with him so…close.

Vampire powers or no, he muddied her mind pretty darn successfully.

The door clicked shut. Relief flooded over her, washing away her tension as the water washed away her stress. She’d have to deal with everything, but later. When she was alone. After he’d left. Maybe that would be easier.

The hollow ache in her chest said differently, but she ignored it.

Dressing quickly, she kept her cell phone close and waited for Kristen. Fifteen minutes before their second night of sisterly fun was to start and unwilling to think any more about her own problems, she flipped open her laptop to see if there were any client issues to distract her.

Charles hadn’t closed the browser.

She almost closed it for him—her initial urge to not invade his privacy. But the vampire wasn’t careless, not that she’d ever seen. Had he left it open for her? Perhaps. As a gesture of trust, or maybe to show her that he was telling the truth.

Because the text in front of her was chilling.

The email listed Noah Thorpe as the sender, and the entire page was filled with the threats Charles spoke of. Some appeared to be copied straight from other documents—emails probably—because the text was of varying styles and font sizes. Beneath those were what must have been phone calls, because they were all typed in the same font and labeled with the number called next to them—cell, home, or work.

Get away from the vamp—or your life is forfeit.

Don’t ever trust them. You will be hurt.

You’re being foolish. If you continue to ignore my warnings, I can’t be held responsible for what happens to you.

You’re digging your own grave.

The last of the emailed threats was all in caps. Alice’s tormentor, it appeared, was becoming frustrated.

WHY AREN’T YOU LISTENING TO ME?

A chill ran over her skin, giving her goose bumps. She rubbed one arm and scrolled down the screen with her free hand. More details were below the threats. The person threatening used a voice muffler. Throwaway cell phones that they hadn’t been able to track. Emails seemed to bounce through relays all over the world. Whoever was threatening Alice possessed intimidating intellect. He was a planner. Careful and meticulous.

Brent just wasn’t that smart.

There was something else that bothered her about that theory, too. She scanned a few of the vague messages, to pinpoint what it was that set off little alarms in her head, but the knowledge, tickling the edge of her brain, was evasive.

The knock at the door made her jump, and she snapped the lid to the laptop shut, suddenly feeling as if she’d done something wrong. Her heart thumped in her chest, and she forced a calming breath. She needed to chill the heck out.

A quick glance through the peephole revealed Kristen. Of course. It was time for dinner and their girls’ night.

“Come on, Charles,” she muttered. “Don’t let me down, bloodsucker.”

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Please tell me you’re not going out with a towel on your head,” Kristen said, grinning.

Her hand flew to her head and met with soft cotton. “Whoops. I forgot.”

Immediately, Kristen’s expression shifted, twisting in sympathy. “No problem. No surprise that you’re distracted right now. We can stay in and get room service, if you’d rather.”

“No, it’s fine. I’d rather get out of here. Moping isn’t going to do me any good.”

“You didn’t seem to be moping around the dogsleds earlier,” Kristen teased, but worry pinched her eyes and mouth.

“What can I say, he’s tough to resist in person.”

Kristen’s frown deepened.

“Can we just eat? I’m starving and I really don’t want to talk about him right now.”
Or even think about him.

“Of course. But dry your hair or you’ll catch your death.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Kristen swatted at her with mock outrage, and Rachel trotted off to dry her hair.

The text came less than two hours after they headed off for dinner. It seemed almost too soon, but Charles had said that he’d planned something specific. Maybe she should have asked for more details, instead of wimping out at the thought that maybe one more thing vampire-esque would push her over the edge. Make her regret being with him. Make it impossible to continue to, at least, be his friend.

Or whatever they were.

They were just paying for dinner when her phone vibrated with the text message, and Rachel, as casually as she could manage, suggested they go out somewhere more fun for a drink.

Kristen frowned. “Are you sure that you want to go out?”

“Absolutely,” she lied.

“For drinks.” Her sister looked unconvinced, which wasn’t surprising. Rachel had never in her life gone out for drinks to let off steam. Going out. Drinking. Crowds. All of those things made her more tense, not less. But she had to fake it, because she couldn’t think of another reason to get her sister to go to a bar with her.

“I think it would be good for me. Nothing like letting off a little steam to make a girl feel better, right? Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me for years?”

“Yes, but—”

“And maybe with a drink in me, I’ll feel up to talking about it.” That promise was a sneaky bit of bait, but she had to get Kristen to the bar where Charles had taken Brent—and fairly quickly. She’d avoided talking about what had supposedly happened with player Charles all day, and her sister had made it obvious she was dying for some details.

Rachel had been tempted to lie, or even just to expand on the cover story she and Charles had given the group through their actions, but she hadn’t found the gumption to do so. The pain was all too real, too fresh. And she was far too unsure of how everything would work out. Talking about it hadn’t really been an option.

Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it.
Go to your left when you get inside. Back of the bar—dark corner.

“Come on, just one drink. Then, if we hate it, we can come back here and watch a movie in my room.” Without waiting for Kristen to agree, she headed for the front desk. Her sister wasn’t enthused, but she didn’t fight her on it.

A few minutes later, they ducked into the cab that the concierge called for them.

“Rachel,” Kristen said, voice sounding especially unsure in the dark, quiet cab.

“Yeah?”

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Kristen pinched her ineffectually through her thick coat.

The truth fell from her lips before she could halt it. “Yeah. How dumb would it be to fall for a guy like him?”

“Probably pretty dumb.”

Truth. Even if they had different ideas in mind for why it was a terrible idea.

“I’ve never seen you like this. When you look at him…”

“What?” God. Had her emotions been obvious to everyone around her, even before she realized how strong they’d become? “When I look at him, what?”

Kristen shook her head, the darkness hiding her expression.

“Aren’t you the one always telling me to date more? To take a chance?” She didn’t know why she was seeking her sister’s advice. When she was not only trying to break her and Brent up, but also because—as far as Kristen knew—Charles was a jerky womanizer. Still, she needed to hear what Kristen thought.

“I’ve seen him look at you the same way you do him. But the way he’s acted, I just don’t think he’s right for you. I think he’ll hurt you, in the end.”

And probably every step on the way to the end
. She almost pointed out that he hadn’t acted all that different from Brent, but she didn’t. The reality of it when they got to the bar would be horrible enough.

The rest of the cab ride went by almost too quickly, and before she could really get a handle on herself—on what she was doing—they had arrived.

Snow trailed down lazily from the sky, just enough to make the night picturesque and perfect. It didn’t seem right. The weather ought to be as ugly as what was coming.

Upscale, with a false-ringing Southwest vibe, the bar didn’t look all that different from the others in the small mountain town. Bar music boomed even outside the building every time the door opened. Which was often, since smokers could no longer smoke in public buildings in the state, and there was nothing people drinking in a bar enjoyed more than a good cigarette.

Drawing on all the courage she could muster, she slipped inside, with an unsure Kristen hesitating behind her.

“Are you sure about this?” Kristen asked again.

“Sure!” she said loudly, trying to be heard over the country and western music filling the air. She went straight for the bar, figuring that they might want to grab a drink before heading to the dark corner Charles specified. Not that she drank, no matter the pretense she’d used to get her sister to come along. But it would give Kristen something to toss into Brent’s cheating face. Not to mention it would make the whole thing seem more natural, less obvious that it was a setup.

Kristen followed her, but she trailed behind, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to see what this bar had to offer.

A sudden thought halted her in her tracks. Her sister couldn’t know, could she? Sure, she wasn’t the sneakiest with her excuses, but…no. Kristen wouldn’t expect this. She thought Brent was her knight in shining armor.

That made her feel worse somehow.

She got up to the bar and ordered two beers. Wrong again, she realized as Kristen’s nose crinkled when the beers arrived. She was screwing this up, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Nerves vibrated through her body, making her a little sick to her stomach and jumbling her thoughts.

“Let’s get a little farther from the band,” she yelled.

Kristen nodded and grabbed the beer mug gingerly with the tips of her fingers, not bothering to try to speak over the music and laughter.

Her heart in her throat, Rachel led Kristen to the corner of the room where Charles told her to go. The vampire was nowhere to be seen, but it only took a quick scan to find Brent.

A familiar woman, whom Rachel couldn’t immediately place, sat on his lap, and his hand was up her shirt. They’d locked lips and seemed ready to go at it despite the crowd around them.

Kristen noticed them only seconds after Rachel.

She halted, and didn’t move for several seconds, though it was obvious from her stiff posture and where her gaze was riveted that she saw them. But she didn’t get a chance to throw the beer at Brent; instead it slipped from her fingers. The liquid splashed against Rachel’s pants and boots.

She never dropped her gaze from her sister to look at the spill, but the dampness soaked into the fabric, touching her shin.