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Authors: Tiffany Allee

Tags: #funny, #blackmail, #paranromal romance, #vampire, #revenge, #don't bite the bridesmaid, #wedding

BOOK: Don't Blackmail the Vampire
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“I can’t thank you enough. How did we miss it?” he said.

“You just needed fresh eyes. A different perspective.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, making her hair flutter and tickle her neck. “Thank you.”

His thank-you sounded like a good-bye. Words were beyond her, so she nodded instead.

With a speed that seemed highly vampiric, he gathered the few things he had in her room in a flash. The key to his own room in his hand, he turned back to her. “I’ll call you.” A pause, as if he didn’t know exactly what to say. As if he didn’t want to make promises he knew he couldn’t keep. “Let you know how this works out.”

Every bit of her will went into keeping her voice even, her expression clear. “Sounds good.”

“Rachel.” He took a step toward her, some emotion on his face and in his voice that she couldn’t identify.

“Don’t. I’m fine,” she lied. “Just go. Take care of this. I’m fine.”
Holy hell. Say you’re fine one more time. That’ll convince him.

“I will call you,” he promised. And then with a grin that she was certain was supposed to be encouraging, he was gone.

She sat down, her emotions so confused from the whole night that she couldn’t seem to process any of them. She felt numb. A little nauseous. Maybe she should have skipped the hot chocolate.

The silence was oppressive.

There was no way she could sleep now. Not while she wasn’t sure if she was on the verge of a panic attack or a full-on sob fest the likes of which she hadn’t indulged in since her father took off when she wasn’t quite a teenager.

She hadn’t expected Charles to stay, of course she hadn’t. But she also hadn’t been brave enough to broach the subject of them again. Her suggestion that they go back to California together and ignore all of their problems had been met with a too-speedy negative. Even though she knew why now, it still stung that he hadn’t even hesitated.

Who knew if there even was a them? She was such a damn wimp. What was the worst he could have said? That it was just sex? That their time together hadn’t meant anything to him?

She knew that wasn’t true. So why couldn’t she ask?

Worst of all, with him gone she had no one to distract her from the guilt that had pressed against her chest since she saw how her sister reacted to finding out—hopefully for the last time—that Brent wasn’t anyone’s prince.

A soft knock came from the door.

Her heartbeat skyrocketed. Had he come back for her? Maybe she hadn’t lost her chance after all.

With hope pushing energy she hadn’t known she could summon, after everything that had happened, she threw herself at the door and flung it open.

Kristen.

“You led us right to him,” she said woodenly, the second the door was open. Eyes red and swollen, it was obvious she’d been crying. “Couldn’t you have pretended a little better?”

“Wh-what?” she stammered.

“I knew that you’d never be able to let this go,” Kristen said, shuffling past her into her room. “I knew it. But I kept hoping that you might grow up. Accept it.”

“You’re not seriously blaming this on me, are you?”

The numbness on Kristen’s face cracked, and anger seeped through. “Why shouldn’t I? You set this up, didn’t you? Somehow, you and your new little douchebag boyfriend set this whole thing up for my benefit.”

Wisdom demanded she deny what Kristen was accusing her—them—of. Her life would be infinitely easier if she pretended that her sister was overreacting, reading into things. But she couldn’t.

She didn’t want to lie to her sister anymore.

“You’re right. I set it up. Charles helped, but this isn’t on him. This was my idea, and I…kind of blackmailed him into helping me.”

Kristen just stared at her, but anger built behind her sister’s eyes. Rightful anger, sure. But not all of it belonged to Rachel.

“But I didn’t make him kiss that waitress. And given another half hour, I wouldn’t have made him fuck her.”

Kristen’s head yanked back as if she’d been slapped.

“I know that’s harsh, but you need to come to grips with reality. He’s not your guy, Kristen,” she murmured gently. “And I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—for hurting you. But I can’t regret what I’ve done. If it hadn’t happened now, it would have happened someday. And it would have been worse if you’d been married…I mean, what if you had kids to think of and he did this?”

A sob escaped her sister, and she drew into herself, hands covering her face. Rachel wanted to comfort her so badly, but she waited, unsure if that’s what Kristen wanted. If she would even tolerate her touch right now.

“You don’t know,” she managed after a deep breath, face still hidden behind her hands. “He’s not Dad. You can’t know that it would have turned out the same way.”

“Willing him to be faithful was never going to work. I’m so sorry, but you deserve better.”

Kristen finally lowered her hands, her expression contorted with pain. With a deep breath, some of the pain faded and an icy calm seemed to settle over her. “You’re right. I deserve way better.”

Relief washed over her. “You do.”

Without meeting her gaze, Kristen swept past her to the door. Rachel reached for her sister, but she felt like she was moving through Jell-O—slow motion—and her fingertip only grazed Kristen’s sweater.

She paused at the door, but she didn’t turn around. “Maybe I do deserve better than Brent. But I also deserve better than you. Better than a sister who would lie to me. Set up my fiancé for failure. Better than someone who would betray my trust like that.” Her voice broke.

Pain spiked from Rachel’s lungs, and she couldn’t seem to get enough breath to form words.

With her words hanging in the air, Kristen left, slamming the door in her wake.

Chapter Eleven

L
ess than two minutes after Kristen left, a brisk knock sounded. Her heart leaped into her throat, and she threw the door open.

“I’m so sorr—” The word caught in her throat. Not Kristen.

Charles gave her a worried look. “I’m sorry to barge back, but I can’t get a flight out until morning.”

He couldn’t get a flight out until morning, so he’d what? Stopped by because he had nothing better to do? How romantic. He took a step toward her and she stepped back.

The urge to step closer to him, to take comfort in his arms, was overwhelming. This had to end. Now.

Part of her wanted to give it a shot, throw caution to the wind. But her doubts had grown with him not around to cloud her judgment. What were the chances of things working for them, long-term? Shitty, probably. And having her sister ripped from her life had reminded her just how much losing someone could hurt.

And they always left. Her father’s abandonment had been out of her control—out of her sister’s and her mother’s, too. But
she’d
driven Kristen away. With her need to be right. Sure, her intentions had been good, but what good did that do her now? Not one whit. And after seeing the raw pain and anger in her sister’s eyes tonight—the betrayal— she realized that good intentions or no, she might have gone too far. Further than she’d had a right to.

Losing her sister’s trust was her fault. There was no one to blame except herself for the pain she carried, and she couldn’t open herself up to the possibility—probability—of being hurt badly again.

She turned away from the door and headed back into the room.

“Did Kristen come by? How is she?” Charles asked.

She had to get this back in check. Flirting with him, laughing with him, it would just make the conversation more difficult. “I’m sorry, but that’s not really any of your business.”

A short laugh escaped him, but it lacked any humor. “I’m the one who helped you break them up. How is it not my business all of a sudden?”

“Look, Charles, this was a fun week. And we had a mutually beneficial arrangement. But it’s over now, so let’s not…delve into each other’s lives any further, okay? It would be pointless. And maybe if we can move past everything that happened, we can be friends someday.” She couldn’t meet his eyes when she said it, but at least she’d gotten it out. Sure, Charles was a good guy, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t leave eventually. Or that he wouldn’t give her reason to leave him. And after everything with her sister, she didn’t have it in her to allow herself to fall for the vampire. But she did care about him. “I’d like to be your friend.”

“My friend?” His fists clenched at his sides. “I thought we were friends. But a friend wouldn’t be this disingenuous.”

“What?” She started. “Did you just call me a liar?”

“Damn right I did. You don’t want to pursue this because you’re scared of anything that might require the slightest risk to your heart.” He took a step toward her, crowding her with his body and with his words.

She stood her ground, finally meeting his gaze. “I said all I’m going to say about this, Charles. Be my friend or don’t. But friendship is all I’m offering.”

“You’re seriously going to walk away from this? I think I’m in falling in love with you, Rachel.”

She flinched. “No. You’re not. We haven’t known each other long enough to be in love.” She certainly hadn’t known him long enough, and the voice in her head that said she had could kindly shut up. “It’s just good, old-fashioned lust.”

He passed her, brushing up against her slightly as he paced across her room. “Is it? Do you really believe that this thing between us isn’t real? I don’t think so. I think you’re just afraid that I’ll break your heart.”

Maybe. But she’d be damned if she’d admit it. “Just go, Charles. Go back to California. Go back to your vampire life. This was fun. But it’s over.”

“You’re scared because you know what we have here is real. You’re scared that you’ll make a mistake. Afraid that you’ll end up like—” He cut off before he could finish the sentence, but she heard the missing words anyway.

“Like my sister? Like my mother? Damn right I’m afraid of that. Rightly so.” She stepped back and looked away, leaving the path to the door clear. “But you’re imagining the rest of it. You need to go.”

Before her brain had even processed that he’d moved, he was only inches from her. He slipped a fingertip under her chin and nudged her face up, so she would have to meet his gaze.

His expression was hard, and she did her best to keep hers harder.

“I think you’re a liar,” he murmured, gaze moving to her lips. “Your heart is safe with me, Rachel.”

Her breath caught, and then he was kissing her. His lips punished her, hard and hot and uncompromising. Despite her mind screaming in alarm, her body could only cling to his. Then she found herself doing more than clinging.

The scent of him surrounded her, subtle and masculine—shaving cream and something earthy and natural. His tongue slipped into her mouth and sparred with hers. She couldn’t seem to get close enough. Her arms found their way around his neck, and she pressed her body against his. Need coiled within her, and all of her reservations faded away, unimportant.

With the suddenness that only a vampire could get away with, her camisole and bra were pushed down, beneath one breast, and his mouth moved down to kiss and lick and nibble her nipple. Leading her toward oblivion.

Hands clinging to his hair, she tugged. He growled and then stood her up, just long enough to get rid of her pants and underwear. His hand moved between them to cup her sex as his mouth took hers again.

It was reckless and probably cruel to them both, but she couldn’t fight the desire. And when he slipped a finger inside her, she gave up even the mental battle.

“So fucking wet,” he murmured in her ear. Then he lifted her onto the table behind her. “Are you sure you just want to be friends?”

Hell, no
. She tugged at his belt, and any response she might reach for was lost when he stepped back just long enough to undo his pants and pull himself free. He pressed his hardness against her heat, teasing her, and she moaned. Again his hand came between them to touch the part of her aching for him, to bring her to the brink.

Needing to even the playing field, she reached between them, moved the bottom of his shirt out of the way, and fisted his erection. Without hesitation, she pumped him, hard. He gasped, and his teeth flashed, canines fully extended.

It shouldn’t have turned her on, but it did. Something about knowing she’d made every part of him respond to her pushed her closer to the edge.

Not to mention the danger.

And she wanted more of that danger. Suddenly, her safe approach to life felt far too restrictive. She needed to break out. If only for one brief, insane moment.

“You can bite me if you want to,” she said, closing her eyes to concentrate on the sensation his skilled hands gave her.

“What?”

Forcing her eyes open, she met his shocked stare. There was a grave seriousness in his light-blue eyes, but a hunger beneath it that made her sex ache.

“What did you say?” he demanded.

“Bite me.”


The second the words struck the air between them, his control cracked. It was a terrible idea, with things still so undecided between them. It would only make everything all the more painful if this was their last moment together.

But Charles couldn’t stop himself.

Gently, he caressed her skin with his tongue, sliding down her neck, over the spot he’d dreamed of sinking his teeth into. He nipped her tender skin softly, and she jerked. A small moan escaped her swollen lips.

Whole mind focused on her scent and the steady beat of her pulse beneath his lips, he slid a hand between them and touched her again.

Hell. She was so ready. Always ready. Hot and wet and just as needy for him as he was for her.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, hard, but he barely noticed. He gripped her hips and pulled her closer to him, dragging her a couple of inches to the edge of the table.

“Are you sure?” he said against her throat, needing to give her—him—one last out. He grasped himself, and positioned his cock at her entrance, testing.

“Yes,” she said, desperation coating the word.

Hesitation gone, he slid into her, easing himself all the way to the hilt. The welcoming heat and tightness of her body dragged a growl from him. Canines fully extended, he pulled back for a moment, nearly out of her body, so she could see him. See clearly what she’d just signed on for. So she could see his fangs.

“Open your eyes,” he said.

Her eyes flickered open, and they widened at the sight of his slightly open mouth. She’d seen his teeth before, but never with his lips drawn back to display them, he’d made sure of that. He hadn’t wanted to scare her.

“Oh,” she managed. But there was no rejection in her voice, and her wide eyes held only curiosity, and lust. Her hand came up to touch his fang. Even the soft slide of her tender skin drove the ache to an almost uncontrollable level. His breaths came hard and fast, and it took everything he had not to strike out, like a snake, and take her hard.

Observing his expression, whatever she saw there, her hand dropped back to his shoulder. Then achingly slowly, she turned her head, revealing her neck to him.

He struck, plunging his cock back into her heat. At the same time, his teeth penetrated the tender skin of her neck. The taste of her blood filling his mouth was heaven. And her wet tightness seemed to pull at him as he started to pull from her, too.

A long sigh escaped her, and when he started rocking in and out of her body in shallow strokes, she started to pant. She wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to push deeper. He touched her breast softly, and waited for her to relax just a hair before pinching her nipple, hard.

“Charles!” She gasped, her body shuddering hard with release. Tightness gripped him and he could feel his own body’s need building to a pinnacle. He yanked his head away from her neck and then kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth even as he thrust hard into her body.

The orgasm hit him hard, and he had to move his grip to her table, so he didn’t risk hurting her. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth even as he shattered inside her body, he let her taste her blood on his lips.

It was heaven. Bliss. His whole body filled with her taste and her scent and the feel of her surrounding him. He’d never felt such a closeness with anyone.

Arms around his neck, and legs still tight around his waist, she never let him go.

Years could have passed while he stood in her arms, and he wasn’t sure he would have noticed. But eventually, she began to move, pulling him out of his reverie. “Charles,” she said tenderly. Then he leaned in, and she added in the same tone, “My butt’s going numb.”

He laughed and stepped back, helping her hop off the table. But his amusement faded when her gaze danced away from his. She dressed quickly, hurriedly.

“That didn’t change anything, did it?” he asked when the silence grew too oppressive.

“No.”

He slammed his fist on the table, and she flinched. He couldn’t find it in himself to apologize. Everything he’d offered her—his trust, his history, his heart—wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t enough for her to risk the same with him. And the haunting voice in the back of his mind made it worse. What if he’d never used his powers to lessen her fear? What if he’d never lied to her? Maybe she would have trusted him enough to take this leap with him.

The nagging voice whispered that this was his fault. That he wasn’t worthy of her—or anyone’s—trust.

Fresh pain shot through his chest. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “Why not?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s like I said before. I’m not looking for anything serious. And let’s be honest, I don’t think you are either.”

“Sometimes the things we need most—they aren’t what we’re looking for. They’re the things we happen to run into.”

She turned to face him, but she stared squarely at his chest. “You deserve someone awesome, Charles, but that someone isn’t me.”

“Bullshit. I love you, Rachel.”

A gasp escaped her and she rocked on her feet, as if she might fall. He tensed, ready to catch her.

Finally, her gaze rose to meet his, and the pain there made him struggle not to go to her. To offer her comfort. Even as she ripped out his heart. She continued as if he hadn’t just given her his soul. “I’m never going to be able to trust someone the way you deserve to be trusted. Giving enough of myself to commit to someone who could just walk out the door…I had that ability quashed before I even met you. When my dad walked out on us, it changed Kristen and me both. I’m sorry to say, for the worse. We weren’t little kids, we were almost teenagers. And suddenly the parent we’d counted on for all those years was gone. Just gone.” She swallowed hard. “I know it’s no excuse, but I can’t change how it makes me feel.”

“Bullshit,” he said again. “Plenty of people lose parents like that. Hell, my vampire father didn’t exactly stick around after making me. Living life means that you have to get past your fears. Your sister doesn’t live her life in a bubble, afraid of ever letting anyone in.”

Her eyes darted back to his, and if anything, her expression hardened further. “Right. And that has turned out so well for her. So well for both of us.”

Steeling his spine, he walked past her, arm barely brushing hers as he headed for her door. He paused in the hallway, but he didn’t turn. Couldn’t turn. If he saw the slightest bit of regret in her eyes, he’d never be able to stop trying to get her to see reason. And he’d be damned if he would beg, no matter how much he wanted her. “At least she was brave enough to try,” he said.

Without glancing back, he left.


Charles didn’t even have a chance to ring the doorbell.

The door opened and Noah motioned for his silence. The tall, dark-haired vampire Charles viewed as a brother despite their lack of a real genetic connection waved him inside. Charles followed him back to his office, careful to keep his movements quiet.

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