My Immortal (4 page)

Stevie sucked in a ragged breath as realisation struck. She clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle the scream.

Oh, my God!
I had sex with uber-hunk Storm Richardson! And not just sex, but earth-shattering, cosmic, orgasmic sex!

“Yeah, but I made love to the sultry Stevie Persing.”

She turned her head to see his smirk. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

“Lucky guess.”
Storm cupped her cheek and kissed her lips.

Stevie grinned.
Sultry.
No one ever called her anything that remotely sexy. “Want to show me round two?”

“In the hot tub.”

Electricity surged through her veins.
If he continued to make her forget, then in the hot tub indeed.

Chapter Four

Storm watched Stevie sink into the heated water and forced himself not to drool. Surrounded by the warm oak trim and the wispy grey tile lining the hot tub, Stevie reminded him of a sexy angel. His cock returned to full mast. She didn’t realise her own beauty because she hid it under bulky T-shirts and billowy blouses. That and her parents berated her at every turn in favour of her sister Gypsy.

In the nude, Stevie surpassed the Venus de Milo. Not that anyone else would see. After that explosive orgasm, Storm refused to share her.
Ever.
Did that make him possessive and jealous? Hell yes.

Naked, he strolled across the living room and out on to the covered deck. Stevie smoothed her hair away from her face and scooted to the opposite side of the tub. “Join me?”

“I insist.” Storm lowered himself into the hot water and sighed. Stevie worried the corner of her mouth. He wanted to kiss her troubles away. In her mind, he saw the conflicting thoughts bouncing around at warp speed. He wasn’t sure where to begin and he wasn’t ready to tell her he could read her memories, so he asked instead.

“Baby, what’s whirling a mile a minute in that gorgeous head of yours?”

As her gaze flicked over his bare chest, he felt the odd desire to inhale to make his body more impressive. His flat nipples puckered under her scrutiny. The soft voice in his head spoke again.

Mate.

Storm leant against the back of the tub and rested his arms on the grey granite tile frame. “Like what you see?”

A rosy glow rushed into her cheeks. The steam floating up from the water couldn’t cause crimson that deep. “I do.”

A foolish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. And, brother, did he love what he saw basking in his hot tub.

Love?
Storm bobbed his head. This was love and deep love at that. The vision of Stevie in a creamy white dress, murmuring ‘
I do’
flashed like a movie scene in his mind.

Mate.

Oh yes. She’d become his wife and his mate.
His everything
.

“I hope you’re satisfied. I’m not very skilled at sex, like most other women.” She glowed from the tops of her breasts to her hairline. “Although I’m out of practice, I know the mechanics.”

Storm frowned. Out of practice?

Considering his orgasm, he’d give her a perfect score for her abilities. He saw her vision of the physical ideal woman in her mind—her sister. “Why do you compare yourself to Gypsy?”

A frown touched her lips and Stevie shrugged. “It’s ingrained in my psyche.”

Closing his mind, he listened to her with his ears and his heart. She needed to come to him. He couldn’t barge in and seize what wasn’t up for grabs. “You feel this way because of your sister?”

She nodded and stared at the oak planks of the ceiling. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if to cover her nudity. “You met my folks. Doris only wanted blonde-haired, blue-eyed children. Lloyd wanted boys to roughhouse. I came too quickly and didn’t fit selected parts of the bill. Gypsy came when they were ready and fit more of the requirements. All she had to do was bat her eyes and
Daddy
gave in. Guys asked me on dates in order to get to her. I was second team all the way.”

Indeed, he knew Stevie’s parents.
Mr. All-American football jock and the local homecoming queen.
They didn’t value their eldest daughter as a remarkable individual. Storm inched across the water to close the separation between them. “You’re jealous?”

She stared at the glass block window on the east side of his house. “No. She got attention for all the reckless things she did and how she looked.” Her stare switched to him. “I wanted recognition for being me, simple as that.”

Storm nodded and scooted next to her. “I respect everything about you.” He gathered her into his arms so her back rested against his chest. Smoothing his hands over her thighs, he secured her in his embrace. “You’re beautiful inside and out. Gypsy can’t claim that.”

He understood her struggle to belong, more than she could begin to imagine. Vampires didn’t exactly fit into a pleasant societal mould. Not when creeps like Jamison O’Toole walked the earth. Storm forced the angry feeling down to the pit of his stomach. All he wanted now was to enjoy Stevie.

The bubbles flicked around her fingers as she ran her hand over the jets. He licked his lips. Lucky bubbles.

“Then how do you explain Gypsy’s triumph as Miss July in that nudie magazine?” She dropped her head back onto his shoulder. “I can’t compare to that.”

His erection pressed against the crack of her ass. Storm nudged her legs open and arranged her feet around his calves, locking her in place. He toyed with the butterfly barbell she wore in her navel, her secret act of rebellion.

“Stevie, I saw that picture. It did nothing for me. But you…you make me think things that no investigator should consider concerning a partner. You make my job and my dick hard. From your dark hair to your toes, I’m hooked.”

She turned to gaze at him. Surprise flickered in her eyes. “What do you think about, when you aren’t supposed to?”

“I think about what you’re doing and how much I want to kiss you. I think about your bravery, how you love to help others, even before you help yourself. I wonder if you’d be supportive with me. I think the answer is yes. Most of the time, I wonder what you taste like—” he pierced her slick nether lips with his index finger, making her gasp, “—right here.”

Stevie moaned and panted her response. “You don’t think about baseball or the state of the union or something else neutral?”

Storm grazed the throbbing bead of her clit. She smelled like sex and roses, sin and innocence. With his left hand, he plucked her nipple and drew it into a sharp point. She moaned. His skin tingled at her reactions to his touch. “Babe, you consume me and I don’t want anyone else.
Just you.”
He slipped two fingers into her core and stroked as her muscles clamped him into place. “You’re made for me.”

“Let go.” Stevie shuddered and moaned. Her hands clawed his arms.

“That’s right. Let it go and let the rush take you.” Storm nipped her earlobe and fanned kisses on her neck.

“No, let go. We can’t do this.” She dug her nails into his skin and scrambled off his lap.

“We can’t have sex?” He cocked his head. “Honey, we initiated my couch not a half hour ago. What’s so wrong about exploring each other in the steamy water?”

Stevie covered her breasts and fumbled her way out of the tub. “I gotta go.” She grabbed a fluffy tan towel and raced back into the house.

Perplexed by her sudden change in demeanour, Storm turned off the jets and stepped out of the hot tub. Forgoing a towel, he burst into the bedroom, soaking wet. He found her struggling into a soggy T-shirt that suctioned itself to her heaving breasts. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“What’s going on, Stevie?” Too many of her thoughts bombarded him.

“It’s nothing.” She froze and her shoulders slumped.

He stepped before her and rubbed her chilled arms. “Something is wrong if you run away from me.”
And lie.
The fear and anxiety in her head read like a billboard in his mind. Her issues lay with the incident at the New Haven Police Department. He refused to ignore her pain any longer when all he wanted was to take it away. “Tell me about that night.”

“No.” The images in her mind faded to black. With her jaw set and her gaze hard, she frowned. “It’s none of your business.”

Biting back a growl, he dropped his hands. She wasn’t going to block him out again. “You’re my partner. Anything that has to do with you is most definitely my concern.”

“If you say so.”
Stevie looked away, but her voice remained firm. “I’m not made for you. I’m not made for any man.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. Storm forced his anger away and replaced his tone with softness. “If you weren’t made for me, then my cock wouldn’t point to you like an arrow every time I’m near you.” Her chin quivered and he pulled her into his embrace. “I want you to tell me what happened and don’t run from the truth.”

If he could only do the same—stop running from the truth of
who
and what he was. Stop drinking that damned blood wine to dull the need for human blood or using his hand while he pictured Stevie satisfying him. He’d be the man Stevie needed him to be. He’d tell O’Toole to fuck off and leave the innocents alone.

“I’m not running because I refuse to label myself a victim.” Stevie fisted her hands behind Storm’s back, returning his thoughts to the present.

He smoothed his hand over her soggy hair. “Stevie, I—I talked to Lieutenant Sorenson. I know you’re a strong woman who left the force with her chin in the air. But you need to tell me why.”

She raised her head. Her eyes widened. “You checked my references?”

“You expected less?” Storm took her hand and sat on the bed, pulling her in his lap. Her bare bottom rested on his naked thighs. Stevie sniffled, which made him fall for her more. She oozed innocence in a time when innocence didn’t exist. “I didn’t check you out, if that’s what you’re implying, Stevie. I wanted to find out the truth.”

“Did you talk to Cole and Marello?” Her eyes narrowed and her words came out clipped. “You know they won’t tell you the truth if it makes them look bad.”

He shook his head. “I heard about the hazing and the abuse through the gossip channels, but no one can substantiate it because those jackasses kept their silence. Trust me, I wish I could’ve taken your place.”

“I don’t want your sympathy.” Stevie raked her fingers through her hair. “And if you slept with me to play junior psychologist, I’m outta here.”

Storm cupped her jaw. “I refuse to give a strong woman pity.” Her chin quivered again and he kissed her temple. “I want to be at your side, baby.”

Stevie pressed her palm against her lips and stared at the carpet before she spoke. “My last night as a beat cop, I worked the Baker stabbing. When I got there, LouAnn wasn’t dead but she didn’t have much time left. I tried to comfort her in those last moments.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand and took a couple of deep breaths.

“She knew she was dying and told me she’d be fine. It tore me apart inside to see her like that and to know that the EMTs wouldn’t get there in time. I didn’t know her personally, but I knew that son-of-a-bitch of a husband of hers used the knife on her. Her blood and vomit coated my uniform. When I got back to the station, I used the locker room showers.”

Storm curled his arms around her and held on tight as she cried. When he closed his eyes, he saw her memories as if they were his own.

Stevie dropped her head against the taupe tile wall in the NHPD locker room as the water sluiced over her skin. Tears wetted her lashes. “I should’ve checked on her earlier. Grant lied about the abuse.” She gulped air and flicked the shower handle to stop the deluge. Her sixth sense pricked and she scoped out the shower room. A rattling pulled her attention to the darkened half of the room. “Hello?”

Evil in the form of Carl Marello and Terry Cole stepped out from behind an empty stall.

“Persing, you don’t belong on the force,” Terry spat. “You care too much for your own good. Girls make shitty cops.”

Carl’s voice stayed even. “You aren’t cop material and you’ll never handle vice. But you knew that.”

Storm opened his eyes and focused on Stevie and the present. She placed a hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t cry about the past because it’s over, and I can’t change it.”

Storm clenched his fist because he, too, couldn’t change the past. The anguish of changing innocents into vampires because O’Toole left them to flounder bothered Storm. Erin had wanted to be a vampire, but she hadn’t wanted to die in the process, never to rise again. Hell, the pain of losing his family because of the change still hurt three centuries later. He turned his attention back to now, to Stevie. She ran circles around tougher officers because of her conviction and caring.

“Honey, let it out.” Storm kissed her temple. “Bottling it up won’t help.”

“Marello grabbed me and Cole held me down. I blacked out while…” Stevie collapsed into fresh tears. Her voice was no more than a whisper. “They raped me.”

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Her actions made sense. Even after five years, her emotional scars remained raw.