Charleston Past Midnight (3 page)

“Not. Just. Yet.” The words fall slowly from his lips.

A shiver of something dark and alluring runs through me
.
I need to get the hell outta here before I’m a willing participant in whatever this stunning guy has planned.
No, no damn it!

I lift my chin, level him with a hot glare and ask, “You got some reason you saved me besides being polite? ’Cause if that’s the case we can sort it out right here.” I point a stiff finger to the grass and continue, “Right now.
Nobody
tells me what to do.”

Yeah, show him that he might want to rethink whatever plan is going on in that brain of his.

Out of nowhere, loud male laughter breaks out behind me. I spin around to see who could’ve possibly snuck up on us in total silence. My eyes open wide at the site of another gorgeous specimen of a man.

Hell, where do these guys come from?
Maybe they’re foreign, into some illegal shit, coke dealers or something. That must be the reason I’ve never seen them downtown and also why they live out in the middle of nowhere. No, I
definitely
would not have forgotten looks like these. The huge man before me is allowing me to look my fill. His dark blond hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and even in the moonlight his even, white smile is mesmerizing.

His hypnotic, pale blue eyes sparkle with interest as he looks past me and says in a distinctly British accent, “Well Severin, I’ve got to hand it to you. This is certainly one to savor. Tell me, where did you find her and more importantly
why
is she here? You know our code.”

I quickly take a large step back from the men, sensing that there is something animalistic and dangerous about the two I can’t really put my finger on.
Run, Calla, something’s not right!
The primal warning deep within me tells me that I need to get away, to haul ass, because beneath their smooth exteriors, these guys are lethal.

“She won’t be staying long. Now leave us, Ambrose.”

Seemingly ignoring the demand, the man asks, “Wait, how did she get here?”

“I brought her.”

“That’s not possible. I would have heard the SUV.”

“I traced us here.”

The blond guy looks shocked, and his lips part before he asks carefully, “And she made it?”

“It appears so. Now, for the second time, leave us.”

“Ahh, Severin, always so serious. Very well, but I have to say, it really would perk up this dull Saturday night if you decided to share your sexy treat.”

That’s it.
With those dangerous words I know I’ve landed in the lion’s den. I instantly break free from my frozen terror and whip around to flee toward the safety of the woods.

I hear the blond man laughing loudly as I dash away. “I do love the spirited ones, don’t you?”

Fuckers!
They’re not getting anything from me without a fight!

I’m only a few feet into the dense labyrinth of trees when he suddenly appears in front of me.
What the …?
I cry out and try to change direction when he lunges for me. His speed is inconceivable.

As I twist to avoid his grasp, my bare arm connects with the sharp point of a branch and I feel my skin rip open. My teeth dig down into the inside of my bottom lip from the burning pain.
No time to worry about it. Move, move!
The blood dripping down my arm barely registers as I race blindly, trying to escape a horrific fate at the hands of these psychos.

A low growl erupts behind me. It’s lethal in its violent intensity and reminds me of the sound a ferocious predator makes right before the kill.
Shit!

He’s on me in the blink of an eye. I’m face down in the blanket of leaves, and before I can even drag in a breath I’m flipped around to face my assailant. I stare up in total shock, not even able to scream. Irises that were once a deep, hypnotic blue are now as black as midnight and scary as fuck.

His lips are parted and long white pointed canines are coming at me. I try with all my might to move, but his weight is tremendous. His hands have my shoulders pinned down against the damp earth. I grasp for his biceps in a feeble attempt to haul him off me, but all I connect with is thick, corded muscle.

As he closes in, his head lowering down to mine, I hear his groans. It’s as if he’s fighting hard against some internal force that has taken hold of him.

Just as his face disappears from view, pressing down into the crook of my neck, I feel the sensation of his warm breath against my sensitive skin as he whispers thickly, “Forgive me, Calla.”

The initial pain of his bite is shocking. It’s as if two knitting needles have been thrust into my neck.

“No! S-stop!”

I scream loudly and suddenly, it all changes. Almost immediately the searing pain morphs into an overwhelming feeling of total ecstasy.

“Oh! Ahh!” I cry out as the mind-bending pleasure washes through me, more potent than the rush of the strongest drug. My thoughts turn into a hazy wash of euphoria. Wetness floods my core and the only thing on my mind is rough, hard sex.
Right now.

He shifts his body to align perfectly with mine and I can’t resist parting my legs wider to accommodate him. His toned hips grind against my sex in a perfect, rhythmic motion that keep time with the delicious sucking pulls that have my already damp pussy throbbing for more.

His stone hard thickness teases me as it slides against the smoothness of my panties. I cry out, desperate for more. He snarls into the bite and releases one shoulder to reach down and palm my damp sex.
Oh, God, yes!
I’ve never been this aroused in my life.
I hope he takes me soon ….

It’s becoming harder to focus on the rapturous bliss because my thoughts are quickly becoming fragmented. The last thing I see before I pass out are the lustrous strands of his beautiful black hair as they tease lightly against my flushed cheeks.

Chapter Three

Present Day, 3:07 a.m.

Willful Creature

I
stare down at the beauty named Calla. She’s still unconscious but is just beginning to stir. She looks so fragile laid out in the center of my bed. I took too much from her tonight, but I couldn’t resist. The instant I scented the sweetness of her blood, her fate was sealed. Never in my two hundred and fifty eight years as a vampire have I tasted anything even
remotely
close to the irresistible perfection of her blood. It is so rich and complex, like a fine cognac that was crafted exclusively for me. I craved it so badly that I didn’t even bother to take the time to glamour her before my fangs sank deep. I now regret causing her the undoubted initial pain of my bite.

Her blood is notably stronger than what I’m used to and I wonder if she possesses some quality I’ve yet to discover. It’s a wonder that I was able to stop when I did. It’s a good thing that I’d fed not long before, because she could’ve easily been killed. Her pure taste is undeniably addictive.

I straddle her, the weight of my knees pressing heavily into the softness of the charcoal gray sheets. A soft moan escapes her as she tosses her head back and forth. Her sexy lips are parted lightly, and I want nothing more than to run my tongue against the plump bottom one. My eyes roam her face, taking in her delicate, utterly feminine features.

I shift restlessly because my cock is like an iron bar encased in my slacks. It has been hard ever since the first moment I got a good look at her after I traced her here, and now, seeing her wear my marks on her swan-like neck is putting me into the red zone.

There is something about this girl that is so powerful and alluring. I’ve encountered exquisite beauty like hers numerous times in the past two centuries, but each and every time, the moment they opened their mouths to speak my interest evaporated. No, this one is different, so raw and wild.

Who is this girl?

I love problem solving, live for it actually … the more complex the better.

I’ll uncover your secrets, ma belle fleur, and when I do, you’ll belong to me.

I smooth a hand across the length of her flaxen hair and marvel at its softness. The color rivals spun gold. My fingers close around a segment and I imagine gripping it tightly in my clenched fist as I work her roughly from behind.

As if she has sensed my wicked thoughts, her pale green eyes fly open and lock with mine. She’s completely terrified.

I speak to her calmly, slowly. “Easy, Calla. Nice and easy. You’re fine.”

She struggles and pants like a frightened rabbit. “Get off me, you, you whatever the hell you are!”

I chuckle deeply, amused by both her innocence and fierce spirit. “In my home,
ma belle fleur
, I will do
precisely
as I wish. When I wish, and exactly
how
I wish.”

She blinks at my arrogant statement but recovers swiftly, tossing out furiously, “Well, Severin, or
whatever
the fuck your name is, it was against
my
wish for you to use my blood as your fucking midnight snack. Now you’d best get off me or there’s gonna be trouble!”

She is scared but trying her best to put on a brave front in light of her current circumstances. I grin down at her and whisper, “Do your best, Calla, but I’ll warn you only once,
never
speak to me like that again.”

I lean back onto my calves, essentially giving her free range of motion. She breaks my impassive stare and glances quickly toward the closed door. The girl wastes no time pulling both knees back to sharply kick out between my spread legs. She is in survival mode.

I saw her intent as her muscles tensed to pull up and back. I allow her the kick, and just before she lands the blow, I wrap my hands around each bare ankle, stopping her dead in her tracks, an inch from my throbbing sex. I do not bother to disguise my preternatural speed as we normally do around humans.

The girl looks stunned but quickly tries to cover up her emotions by narrowing her eyes and asking me in a measured voice, “What
are
you?”

Still clasping her slim ankles, I tilt my head and ask, “Do you trust your intuition, Calla?”

“Always,” she whispers.

“Excellent. Then you already know what I am,” I whisper back to her.

Her head shakes slowly back and forth, disbelief written across her stunning face. “What I think is not possible, and on top of that, you have no way of knowing what I think you are—that is, unless you can read my thoughts.
Can
you?”

“No. I cannot. But there
are
some of us who do possess that unique ability.”

“Then you don’t get the privilege of guessing.”

I sigh at her stubbornness and lightly stroke my right thumb against the softness of her ankle. “I’ve been around a very long time,
ma belle fleur
, and although I cannot see into the future or read your mind, I
am
unusually perceptive. I can read not only body language, but also emotional states. I can sense that you are a very intelligent woman. You know
exactly
what I am, Calla, yet what amuses me most is that you are utterly unafraid of me. This has never happened before. Humans who see what we are capable of fear us as they might the grim reaper himself. Yet you … do not. Why?”

Her dark blond brows draw together in frustration, “Why? Seriously, you really wanna know?”

“I do.”

With narrowed eyes, she leans in close and practically hisses, “I don’t fear you because I’ve been to hell already, and Severin, I ain’t
ever
going back. Now, vampire or not—and based on the fact that this situation is beyond messed up, I’m going with the latter—one last time, let go of my legs!” She glares at me, daring me to call her bluff.

I can’t hide my genuine surprise as I release her legs and she scrambles back against the dark cherry colored leather headboard. She glances down at the bandage I placed on her upper arm. I lean back against the matching curved footboard, giving her ample distance, and ask, “Care to elaborate on that statement?”

“Nope.” She crosses her arms defiantly and looks once again toward the locked door.

“All right then, humor me. Your accent is one I’ve heard rarely, and long ago at that. If I had to guess I would say somewhere in Appalachia, am I correct?”

“Bingo.”

I fight hard not to let my lips twist into a grin. Her headstrong personality is not only refreshing but also intoxicating.

“Can you be more specific, Calla?”

“West Virginia. There, can I get outta here now? No need for a ride. I’ll make it back to the city on my own.”

I cock my head to one side. “Is it so terrible, being here with me?”

She widens her eyes in surprise at my question and I notice how her forehead is damp with perspiration. I am making her uncomfortable. I’m coming to think that anything which calls up an emotional response unnerves this fascinating woman.

“Look, I’m working a double tomorrow. I need to get back to my apartment. I need you to release me because you can’t keep me here forever and you’ve gotta be bat shit crazy if you think I’m gonna let you gorge yourself on my blood again.”

I burst out laughing and she stares at me in complete annoyance before saying, “What’s so damn funny?”

“You,
ma belle fleur
.
You
are magnificent.”

“Yeah, well I’ll be a lot more ‘magnificent’ when this hellish night is long behind me.”

She looks down and smoothes the pale pink polish on her fingertips with her left index finger before adding, “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“
Ma belle fleur
?”

“Yeah. What does it mean anyhow?”

Mmm … She enjoys it when I call her the lovely term of endearment.

“It means ‘my beautiful flower’ in French—my native tongue—and I call you that, Calla, because that is exactly what you are to me.”

I can hear her heart thundering beneath the snug peach blouse. She shifts uncomfortably to tuck her small bare feet beneath her. Her lips part to say something before she decides against it and they press closed again. She watches my every move as I stand and hold out my hand to her. “Come Calla, let’s get you home.”