Immortal Distraction (23 page)

“You’re disgusting.”

He smirked. “No I’m infatuated with the smell of our cum. I’m especially fond of it when it’s inside you.” He was toying with her, and it was working. Her heart was fluttering already, and so was his. He wasn’t lying in the least when he’d said he wanted to fuck her sweet little bottom. Of course he did. He also wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to take his time. He wanted her begging him for it, and her trust was at the heart of it for him. But it meant more than that, and he knew it. It wasn’t trust alone. He wanted her completely, and if she was willing to take him in that way, then what did that say for how she felt about him? He couldn’t help wanting to know the answer to that question.

But not yet. She wasn’t ready… And he sure as hell wasn’t either. At least not entirely. For her bottom, sure, of course he was ready. To deal with what it all meant, hell no. For a man who didn’t love her, he was doing a damn fine job craving her love and trust.

It was a bizarre evening, at least for him, that ended up with Ember and Truman joining them for a few hours of card games. They sat around the table and talked and acted as though they were the most human humans on the planet. When they settled on spades, he partnered with Brit, and they spent the next couple hours bidding and betting without speaking to one another. She eyed him as she tried to figure out what he was thinking, and every second her attention was on him, his heart was fluttering, and Truman and Ember were smirking at his very human response to her.

Brit was on call, but her phone stayed silent. They didn’t talk about the Driscoll case anymore, but he also knew no new bodies had shown up. He was glad for it, but it left him little more to go on. He’d contacted one of Langford’s family members that led a solitary life in New Orleans, and the man, Aaron Spencer, had agreed to meet with him. He was expected the following evening. He’d not even mentioned it to Truman or Bremmer yet, and it was a conversation he knew would have to come soon.

He was done with Langford and was ready to take the man out with Driscoll. He’d failed his responsibilities disastrously, and if things went well with Aaron, he intended to replace the man very soon. He’d met Aaron a time or two over the centuries. He reminded him very much of Truman in some ways. He was a bit of a loner, never interested in the council’s affairs and more than content to maintain his own quiet existence outside of their world. Angus wanted to change that, and he wasn’t sure how well it would go over.

Brit was studying him as he spaced out, and when he glanced at her, he gave her a small smile. He’d gotten distracted by his thoughts, and Brit could see it. Her head cocked to the side, and he shook his in response. She let it go.

“So, Brit, are you planning on going to your mother’s arraignment tomorrow?” It was Ember.

“Yeah. I usually do. I found a treatment facility that has a bed for her if they’ll release her for treatment, and I want to make sure her lawyer has the information.”

“I’d like to come tomorrow if you’re okay with it.”

Brit nodded. She actually really did seem okay with the offer given the small smile on her lips. He intended to go as well, though he’d not yet mentioned it to her. He wanted to be with her, but even more than that, he wanted to make sure Driscoll didn’t show up. He didn’t really expect the man to be that stupid, but he was also a blood addict who was unstable, so whatever expectations he might normally ascribe to a logical vampire didn’t really exist with him.

Truman and Ember excused themselves for the evening and left him and Brit staring at one another across the table. “Come here.” His voice was warm and seductive and her body responded to it perfectly. She approached, and he guided her to straddle his legs and sit facing him. He kissed her, and his cock instantly started trying to push its way out of his pants and into her body.

“I’d like to go tomorrow too. Would you have a problem with that?” She shook her head but it was hesitant. He cocked his head in question, and she got the hint.

“This part of my life is something I’ve always had to deal with. And … it’s pretty pathetic.” She was blushing. She looked embarrassed or maybe just uncertain.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently again. “You love your mother. There’s nothing pathetic about that. She doesn’t need to deserve your love to get it. I envy that in you.” Her heart raced for a moment as he spoke. She liked those words, and he didn’t want to lose that connection with her. “My family never cared about me.” His own heart started racing as he started confessing that his own life was just as pathetic as hers, but he wanted her to understand. Her eyes watched his closely. He definitely had her attention. “They were wealthy, powerful, and … far too busy worrying about everything else in the world to give a shit about me.” She looked wounded as though she was hurting for him. “And … I didn’t love them.” He swallowed over a lump in his throat at that confession. “Or, I learned not to. There’s no shame in caring, Brit. Not caring was the chicken shit way out for me.” And she leaned to his mouth, kissing him this time.

She scooted closer to his groin, feeling his arousal, and he pulled her hips snug to him. But she stopped just as quickly as she started. “I’m not sure I can do what you want to do.”

He chuckled before responding. “Why don’t you say it, Brit?”

She looked at him as her cheeks burned. “Anal sex.”

He kissed her gently again, running his hands over her bottom. “You like my finger there.” It wasn’t a question, but she nodded slightly. “And you must understand that I would never do anything to you that I didn’t think you would enjoy.” She bit her lip as she studied him. It was a long moment later that she finally slowly nodded her head again. “Then don’t tell me you can’t do it. Let me convince you that you want to. Nothing will happen until you ask for it, and if I can get you to do that, then there will be little argument on the matter.” She took a deep breath. “Not yet, love. So stop worrying.” He kissed her before she could speak again and carried her off to bed before she could object.

She took his finger that night, and he held it steady and deep in her bottom as she rode his body. And when they were in the shower after, she approached him from behind, caressing over his back with her delicate, small hands before she slipped one between the cheeks of his bottom. She stroked and rubbed over his entry as he let his forehead drop to the wall, and when she pushed past his tight muscles into his body, he groaned. He loved this touch because it belonged solely to her. When her free hand wrapped around the rigid length of his cock and stroked as her finger plunged gently, his groan became a panting, spasming race to his next release, which she gave him quickly as he came on the wall of the shower. Her hand slowly pulled and stroked every last drip from his cock as her finger gently left his bottom.

He held her under the hot jets of the shower for many long minutes before they finally went to bed. He was far too nocturnal to sleep, so he read while she slept. He stayed in bed with her all night and made love to her one more time before she got up. He’d still not mastered the art of taking her gently, but she never seemed to care, and while he was intent on trying to be civilized with her at least once, he couldn’t imagine it. His body and control fell apart the moment he felt her skin against his, and it left him fighting his cock for control of his movements.

When she was in the bathroom getting ready for the day, he ran to the nearby drugstore, bought her a small coffeepot, coffee grounds, and a travel cup. He would not be humiliating himself with the fucking barista again.

She smiled when she saw him pulling it out of the box in his utterly empty kitchen, and he watched her make coffee while he sat on the kitchen counter. It all seemed so very human, at least what he assumed was human, and he loved it. He loved it because she was part of it. He liked sharing her life. He’d never wanted that before with anyone. But as he watched her moving about quietly, still yawning away her sleepiness and stretching her tired muscles, he reveled in it. A lifetime wasn’t nearly long enough with her, and it sent a pang of panic through him to consider. And the notion of a forever love suddenly made all the sense in the world to him. He understood Truman finally.

But it just wasn’t possible.

She approached him as he hopped down from the counter and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Thank you for the coffeemaker.”

He stowed his internal struggle and smiled. “I know it’s not a very good one, but I suppose if it does the trick…”

“I would eat the coffee grounds out of the bag if I had too, so … it’s perfect.” Her eyebrows shot up as she spoke.

He chuckled. “Well I’ve never in all my existence had coffee, and given the taste on your lips, I’m not sure I see what all the fuss is about, but it appears to make you very happy.” And after one more kiss, she was gone.

* * * *

“Will the court come to order, please.” She’d been here too many times. Her mother was one of over thirty or so misdemeanor cases being pleaded today, but thankfully the wait wasn’t long. Her mother ended up being second in line. Truman, Ember, and Angus had shown up and sat directly behind her. Brit didn’t know if there would be anyone there that knew her, and she was glad they had the forethought to be discreet, but God she wouldn’t mind feeling Angus’ strong shoulder and strength next to her.

She’d become somewhat attached to the strength and calm he exuded, and sitting alone with an old woman knitting on one side of her and a smelly, skinny man who looked just as much an addict as her mother on the other side, she was ready to leap over the bench to his aisle and crawl into his lap like some pathetic woman she used to have nothing in common with.

When her mother was up, Brit quickly stood and spoke with the public defender, handing him a small piece of paper that he pocketed after quickly scanning it. Her mother looked bad. More than bad. She was shaking and looked half-asleep, and it was only just that morning that Brit had found out she’d spent a good deal of her time in the hospital after her withdrawal symptoms became so bad the infirmary at the jail requested she be moved.

Her lawyer, a man who looked entirely too young to even know about people such as her mother, let alone be responsible for representing them, leaned to her mother and spoke quietly. Her mother looked around in a haze and caught Brit’s eye. She didn’t smile, she didn’t frown, she just stared for a moment before turning back around.

“Your honor, my client is prepared to plead guilty to the charges, but we request she be immediately moved to a residential drug and alcohol treatment facility in exchange for jail time. There is already a spot being held for her, and it is my urging that the court consider this option. Mrs. Sutton has spent the last twenty-four hours in the hospital for medical treatment associated with drug withdrawals, and it will serve little benefit in my opinion to put her in jail at this point.”

The judge responded. Brit recognized him, and by the look of it, he recognized her mother. “Do you plead guilty, Mrs. Sutton?”

She mumbled her response before the judge spoke again. “Mrs. Sutton, you are not new to my court, and I’m not thrilled to see you back, but I’m inclined to agree that you need treatment far more than you need incarceration. The treatment will be a mandatory sixty days, and if you fail to complete it, the court will consider you to have violated your terms of probation…” She stopped listening after that. She’d heard all she needed to hear, and she let go of her stress and worry in a deep sigh.

Her mother was having a hard time standing up without tipping over, but she managed to agree.

“Bailiff, Mrs. Sutton can be prepared for discharge to the treatment facility that will be accepting her.” And her mother was led stumbling away. She looked back at Brit once, and Brit lifted a quick hand to her as her eyes teared. She never got over seeing her mother this way. Not in all her life had she become accustomed it. Her mother gave her a weak but remarkably sober smile. She might be in pain, but she was sober at the moment—a rare but bittersweet moment for Brit. It was fleeting. It was always fleeting. And it destroyed Brit every time.

She felt Angus’ knuckles graze down the back of her neck as he stood with Truman and Ember to leave. But the moment she turned, he was moving away from her. She left the courtroom as well, and when she exited the room, she saw Truman and Ember walking away down the corridor and Angus standing against the wall in front of her. He cocked his head in the opposite direction and headed down the corridor away from the exit and the groups of people.

She followed at a distance, watching his casual and calm movements. He was wearing a modern slim-cut, charcoal-gray three-piece suit that was tailored perfectly to his body and almost took her breath away. He rounded a corner down a deserted hallway, and as she rounded the same corner moments later, she found him standing with his arms crossed, leaning casually against the wall by a door. It was a small library room full of bookcases and as deserted as the hallway. When he held the door open for her, she passed through, and he locked the door behind them. She walked to the nearby window ledge, placing her palms on the cool marble sill and looking out to the city beyond.

His hands met hers on the sill as he stepped up to hug her body from behind, and he nuzzled her neck. “She’s going to be okay, Brit.” She nodded as he spoke. He was saying what he had to say, what was appropriate to say, but she knew better. Her mother was likely not going to be okay at all.

“It’s going to kill her. There’s no doubt in my mind.” He said nothing but kissed her neck gently. When she turned to face him, she reached for the waist of his trousers, but he stopped her with a furrowed brow. “What?” She snapped before she could pull her reaction back. Rejection bit at her senses in an instant. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” She sounded bitter and accusatory. She knew she was just primed for pain, and she was doing it to herself. She sounded all the Brit she’d always been, and she shuddered at the sound of it now. She hadn’t been that woman for a while now, at least not with him, and she didn’t like the sound of that Brit anymore. But in her current emotional state, she was slipping back into the comfort of it.