Authors: Chloe Cole
The waiter turned to Gabriel.
"And I'll have the New York Strip, rare. No salad."
Their server assured them the food would be out shortly and swept the menus away before disappearing again.
"Your work friend seems nice," Gabriel said.
Her face lit up and she grinned. "She's great. One of the most fun, and generous people I've ever met."
He reached out nonchalantly and plucked her napkin off the table and draped it over her lap.
"Have you known each other long or?"
Zara nodded, brow furrowed as she counted on her fingers. "A few years. I hired her at the library about six months after I started."
As she talked about her relationship with Steph, he dropped his hand to rest on Zara’s stockinged knee and the chatter died away.
He reached for his water glass with his free hand and let the fingers on her knee trail upward, higher and higher, until they slipped under her skirt and curled around the inside of her thigh.
"Gabriel?"
Her voice was a mere whisper, and he paid it no heed. Instead, he stroked the very tips of his fingers back and forth over the inside of her thigh, moving ever closer to the apex with each pass.
Her legs tensed and then relaxed, opening a few more inches as she spread for him.
"Gabriel, I-"
"Zara?" he interjected, his fingers now tracing the crease between her thighs and her pussy.
"Y-yes?" she murmured, her breath coming in soft pants now.
"It's Sir when we're like this, remember? 'Yes, Sir.'"
Heat poured from between her legs at his words and he could hear the intake of her breath, which made his cock pulse and twitch.
She
did
remember.
"That's nice. Good girl."
He followed his words by cupping her core with his hand, grinding the heel of his palm against her clit.
Her gasp sent a bolt of stark need through him and he willed himself to concentrate. More than anything, he wanted her to feel even an ounce of what he felt every time he was inside her. But damn if the need to taste her--to latch on and drink deep from the life's blood that coursed through her veins--wasn't all consuming.
"I'm going to make you come, Zara. And because we don't want anyone to know our secret, I'm going to need you to do it very quietly. Can you do that for me, love?"
She nodded almost imperceptibly but her hips lifted in that same moment, so there was no question she was in agreement.
He paused until her brow furrowed in confusion and then smoothed. "Yes, Sir. I can do that."
Her voice had dropped to a low, husky purr that made him want to bend her over the table in front of him, rip those underwear off and plunge deep.
Her eyes drifted shut for a moment, which gave him the chance to watch her face freely.
Lord, she was beautiful. Her white teeth closed over her full bottom lip. Her cheeks, flushed and pretty. He could watch her like this all day. But their waiter would be back soon enough, and Gabriel had a goal in mind.
He glanced casually around the restaurant and then maneuvered his fingers beneath the silky fabric of her underwear. Her eyes popped open as he connected with hot, wet flesh.
His whole body went taut as he slid two fingers down her slit and back up again.
"Ah, Zara, you're killing me right now. So fucking wet. So fucking ready."
Her answer was a muffled groan as he slid those fingers deep into the column of her sex. She groaned, low in her throat, before reaching out a hand to grip the edge of the table. When she met his gaze, her blue eyes were hot and needy, and it took all he had not to crush his mouth against hers, other diners be damned.
"Please, Sir," she gasped, her hips rolling now, urging him to move.
"Shh, yes, love. I'm going to take care of you." He marked his words with slow, shallow thrusts. And with each one, his stomach cramped, feeling like it was going to cave in on itself from hunger and need, so deep, it felt like a part of his DNA now.
A busboy passed by, just a few feet away. To his surprise, Zara didn't even attempt to stop him. Instead, she schooled her features to appear passive and then thrust her hips hard upward, forcing his digits deeper. The only indication of the cacophony of sensations she was feeling was the delicate flare of her nostrils. If he wasn't in such sweet agony, he might've smiled. Instead, he rewarded her by sliding his fingers almost all the way out to massage her slick, swollen clit before plunging them into her again.
And this time, when he continued, it was in earnest. Hard, deep, long thrusts, each culminating with the heel of his palm grinding against her clit. She jaw went slack as her fingernails dug into the tablecloth in front of them.
"Oh my god, Gabriel. Please...yes," she murmured softly, pumping her hips up and down in counterpoint to his thrusts.
Her hand left the table to dive beneath it and cup his cock in her firm grip. He growled low in his throat as her fingers curled unerringly around his thick, throbbing length. The desire to mesmerize the whole fucking room so he could fuck her bore down on him and he had to force it from his mind before he did something rash.
"Your salad." The waiter appeared as if by magic, setting down Zara's salad plate. He pulled a wooden pepper grinder from his apron and smiled at her. "Fresh pepper?"
She stilled, seemingly suspended in time as she stared at him through wide eyes.
"N-no. No, thank you." He walked away and Zara slumped back against the booth with a strained laugh. "That was close, I--oh!"
Gabriel wasn’t deterred in the least as he slid his fingers deep again, this time flexing his middle fingers against her G-spot.
"I want you to come for me, Zara. In this room, nice and quietly so no one else will know but you and I."
He closed his free hand over hers, still beneath the table, and used his own to guide hers up and down his straining shaft. His throat felt like he'd swallowed a box of razor blades but he forced the words out.
"I want to watch your face...I want to feel that tight little pussy squeezing around me...I want to hear those sexy little gasps."
He was fucking her with his fingers, hard and fast now, as her own strokes beneath the table grew frantic. The need to come barreled down on his like a sledgehammer, hot liquid snaking up his length, but he held back as her body tensed.
"Gabriel...I--"
Suddenly, she froze, her mouth open in a silent scream as she jerked and shook. He watched, enthralled, as her tight channel squeezed and pulsed around his fingers, making him wish to God he was feeling that same sensation wrapped around his cock. He didn’t slow his pace, wanting to draw it out, penetrating her again and again as she bucked and arched against his hand. Finally, she went still.
"Oh, my," she whispered, trembling.
He slid his fingers from her wet heat and cupped her gently, before squeezing. God, he could scent her silky need from here and his body quaked. Time to take it down a notch before he gave in to the urge to come in his pants like a teenage boy.
He slid his hand from beneath her skirt and adjusted her underwear before leaning in to press a kiss to her lips.
“Lovely.”
She stroked his cock beneath the table, sending another shaft of need through him, but he pulled her hand away gently and lifted it to the table.
“Later. I want to eat my dinner thinking of only how you felt when you came for me, Zara.”
Her breath was still coming in short gasps in his ear when a familiar scent overpowered her delicate one.
Ezekiel.
The oldest living vampire. Head of The Protectorate. Irena’s brother-in-law. Mate to their murdered comrade, Melissande.
And Master to all.
Was he here for dinner or was there another, far more troubling reason for his presence? Concern for Zara’s safety chased away the ache in his groin with brutal efficiency.
He took his time, looking slowly, methodically around the room until he caught sight of the other nightwalker. He was seated about twenty feet away, talking quietly with a young, beautiful brunette beside him. But his gaze was locked on Gabriel. Judging by the sardonic smile curving his lips, he had been there long enough to catch at least the latter half of his under-the-table activities with Zara.
This was good news. In fact, seeing what the human was willing to do with and for him would only cement The Protectorate’s belief that he was mesmerizing Zara and had the situation under control.
So why did he have the sudden urge to get medieval on the ancient vampire’s ass?
He resisted the need to lean in front of Zara and block her from Ezekiel’s view, knowing it would only undo all the good he’d done by bringing her here. The vampire was nothing if not astute, and if he sensed that Gabriel was protective of her, it would be game over. He fixed a half-smile to his face and inclined his head toward the Master in greeting.
Zara was still too flustered to notice and, by the time she’d settled some, Ezekiel had turned his attentions back to his companion.
“Gabriel.”
Her low, husky voice, pink cheeks and languid expression on her face brought him right back to where he’d been a minute before. Hard and wanting. He wondered idly if and when that would stop happening. As it stood, he couldn’t imagine a day where he wasn’t aching to be buried deep inside her.
“Yes?”
“I know you said you wanted us to have a date and dinner out, but in case you were wondering for next time, I’d much rather be back at your place alone…”
Her cheeks reddened further but she didn’t look away. She drew back with a start as he rolled to his feet.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her golden brows crinkling in confusion.
“Are you kidding me?” He laughed and reached into his pants pocket to pull out a hundred dollar bill, and then tossed it onto the table. “The sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on would rather be at home in my bed with me than at a fancy restaurant and you think we’re going to waste one more second here? We’ll order in and the staff can enjoy our meals.”
Her smile should’ve burned his skin it was so bright. His insides cramped at the thought of Ezekiel being close enough to bathe in that light, and he quickly helped her don her coat. Mission accomplished, and now he couldn’t wait to get her out of there.
When they passed the other couple’s table, neither vampire acknowledged the other, and Gabriel felt no menace coming from the old one. Still, he was tensed and ready for a fight until they’d reached the car without incident. He was being paranoid, letting his own concerns for Zara get in the way of rational thinking. Things had gone better than he could’ve hoped, and now, to top it off, he had the rest of his night free with her.
He slid the key in the ignition and started the car before facing her. “I wanted to ask you, what are your plans for the holidays?”
She was silent for a long moment before she turned to face him. “Actually, I’m not sure. I usually go back to my hometown, but truthfully? There’s no one there for me anymore. I think it was more habit than anything.” She paused. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I’d like us to spend them together.” If he hadn’t solved his problem by next week, he needed to figure out how to keep her in town, or Irena would have his head on a platter. But more importantly, he couldn’t protect her if she was two hundred miles away. Better to plan for worst-case scenario than assuming they’d be able to leave before then.
“I’d like that.” The clear and present pleasure in her voice spoke to the truth of her words and she laid a hand on his knee. “Do you think we might be able to make a stop by Steph’s house on Christmas Eve, though? She’s been asking me for years to try to make it to one of her holiday parties, and I’ve never gone. If I’m in town, I’d feel bad not making an appearance.”
If they were still in town by then, that was bad news. That meant he’d had another week to implement his plan and had failed. He would only be able to hide the truth for so long. If things went according to plan, by Christmas Eve, she would either be reeling with the shock of what he’d revealed and trying to deal with the ramifications of it, or she’d have decided that vampire hunting was her new vocation after all, and had staked him through the heart. Either way, a party was likely not on the itinerary.
“Christmas Eve is the one night I’m not available anyway. It’s a big thing at the club. We close early and then Irena does a big bash for the staff afterwards since a lot of us don’t have family in the area.” Or at all, if he was being honest.
Nightwalkers had each other, and that became family of sorts, but everyone had long since lost their siblings and parents, most on the day of their turning. A brave few tried to make contact, but no one could see the changes in a person better than those who love them most. Things could never go back to the way they were, and the relationships almost always ended badly.
He thought back to his own mother and shoved the memory aside to meet Zara’s gaze again. “I can’t miss it, so feel free to go to Steph’s.”
“Or I could go to Steph’s for a little while and then come with you?”
The words had barely left her lips when he shot back a curt, “No.”
She drew her hand back, hurt clouding her eyes, and he swallowed a curse.
“I want you to, Zara.” In fact, Irena and, now, Ezekiel, would expect it. All of the nightwalkers would bring their pets and familiars to the party and, often times, share them. If Zara Matheson truly was under his spell, she would be there.
Only one problem: He would never share her. And if one of those bastards touched her, he would end them with his bare hands. Not good for diplomacy and definitely not good if he was trying to avoid raising suspicion.
Her wide, blue eyes were searching his and he made a decision on a dime.
“I just thought you’d be uncomfortable. It can get wild in there, and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed. But if you’d like to come, I’d love to have you as my date.”
He’d just have to make sure he kept her close and concocted a believable reason to ensure she remained untouched.
To his relief, she seemed to take his words at face value. “I promise not to freak out, okay? I think we’ll have fun.”