Secrets (The Forever series, Book 8) (10 page)

“Me too,” she says. “I need cold water. Have you noticed the
cold water here is actually really, really cold?” she asks as they make their
way down the stairs, him in just his sweats and her in her teeny, tiny
nightgown that he wants to rip off her so he can fuck her here on the stairs.
Oh god, where did that thought come from? His dick gets hard again as he thinks
about that and he struggles to focus on what she is saying, so he just nods.
“And another thing, how come I can tell the water is actually cold? I mean if
it were to hit me in the face I wouldn’t feel it, but in my mouth it is
delicious.”

Oh boy. What is she saying about her mouth?

“Cole?” she prompts him with a shoulder bump, and he clears
his throat.

“Uh, I don’t know,” he says. “I also wondered that. I
suppose we could ask.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” she says, wrinkling her cute
little nose. “I feel so stupid sometimes, like I am supposed to know these
things.”

“I know what you mean,” he agrees with her, and she smiles
as she pushes the kitchen door open.

“It’s nice to know that I am not the only one. I find it
difficult being around them. They are so much older than me. Us. They have all
lived these long, interesting lives and I’m just me. Boring and plain,” she
says.

“You are anything but boring and plain,” he says to her with
a smile, which lights up her eyes. He realizes that she fished for the
compliment as he knows she finds him attractive. It would be so easy to take
her right now. He doesn’t find her that hot. Well yeah, she’s hot, but he
definitely prefers his wife’s looks. Devon has his thing with tall,
big-breasted brunettes with eyes like his. Cole has his petite blondes with
eyes the color of emeralds, which unfortunately coincides with her sire’s taste
in women. That thought dampens any sexual thoughts he was having. Jess hands
him a glass of cold water and he takes it with a nod of thanks.

“I find it helps with the cravings,” she says as she takes a
big gulp.

“Me too,” he states in surprise and she grins.

“I don’t get the whole alcohol thing they have. How Devon
can stomach that much Bourbon in one sitting is beyond me. It tastes
disgusting.”

He chuckles and says, “I don’t get Liv’s Scotch obsession. I
mean how many bottles do you need in one house anyway?”

“A lot around here,” she says as she laughs. “Now that is
gross. I would take Bourbon over Scotch any day.”

“Me too,” he says again. This is weird. She has been a part
of their “family” for a few weeks now and this is the first time he has ever
really spoken to her. It is certainly the only time he has ever been alone with
her, not counting the time she came on to him back in L.A. and Liv kicked her
ass. “How are you doing now?” he asks her as he gets more water.

“Better,” she says and takes the glass from him. “It
definitely helps to be able to go out in the day time.” She holds her left
wrist up and he nods. “And now that Devon lets me feed straight from humans,
that also helps a lot.”

“Yeah. That was a harsh judgment by our Queen,” Cole says
lightly, as he doesn’t want her to think he is badmouthing his wife.

“I deserved it,” she says quietly and they stand in silence
for a few moments, pondering her suicidal actions. “You must really miss her
when she isn’t here. I know I would die without Devon. I don’t know how you
stand it,” she adds suddenly.

He turns from her so she can’t see his sad expression. “It’s
hard. Really hard. Especially now when she is supposed to be here and she
isn’t. There were some days in Toronto that I thought I would die,” he admits,
although he has no idea why. It sounds overly dramatic, but it is the honest
truth. Some days he never even thought he would make it out of bed.

“I can imagine,” she says softly. “Have you told her how you
feel?”

He shrugs and turns back to her and says, “Not really. I
don’t want her to be worried or feel like she has to fix it.”

“She likes to fix things,” Jess says. “It’s like her thing.
Do you think it’s because she is a mad control freak?”

“Like her sire?” Cole snorts.

“Exactly,” she says with a laugh. “You should tell her.
Maybe it will stop her from…you know.” She waves her hand about and he frowns.

“What?” he asks her.

“You know…doing what she does,” she says and he stares at
her. She gulps, realizing that she has stepped where she shouldn’t be stepping.
“Sorry,” she mutters. “It’s none of my business.”

He sighs. “It’s okay. I know you know.” He turns away again,
this time so she won’t see the pain. She places her small hand on his bare back
and he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. He turns back to her, but she
doesn’t move her hand. It stays where it is in the air as he turns and now it
is placed on his chest. He can feel the stirring start again and he gulps.

“I hate it when Devon goes to her,” she whispers as she
steps closer, those erect nipples barely touching his chest. “I know you hate
it too.” Jess tilts her head up and he stares down into her pretty blue eyes,
her mouth blood red, lips parted, and he wants to delve his tongue in between
them so he can know what she tastes like. His dick is rock hard as she brushes
her hand lightly over him, but he steps back. He can’t do it. She is throwing
herself at him and he can’t do it. Not with her. She is too close. But screw
this, he needs someone. She looks sad as he steps back again and mutters, “I’ll
see you later,” before he beats a hasty retreat out of the kitchen and back up
the stairs. Devon would probably stake him if he ever touched her, not to
mention Liv would be furious. Outsiders only, please.

But he knows an outsider, one that if he called right now
would answer. Cole grabs his phone off the nightstand and calls Tanya. It’s 1
AM, but she picks up with her husky voice, making the one syllable of his name
sound sexy. “Ready to try again?” he asks briskly.

“Anytime,” she says.

“I will be at your hotel in…” he says and glances again at
the clock. At this hour he can probably make it to London in forty minutes flat
out. “…an hour,” he says.

“I’ll be waiting,” she purrs and hangs up. He gets dressed
quickly, not thinking about anything but the next action in front of him. He is
going to do this. He needs to. His balls are aching and his cock is so hard he
can’t even do his jeans up properly. His hand is useless; he needs a wet,
inviting pussy. He needs his wife’s wet, inviting, perfect, pretty pussy, but
she isn’t here. She is never here. Always off pleasing other people or saving
the world. So fuck it. He is going to Tanya’s hotel room and he is going to do
this. He will bang her and then leave. It’s simple. Bang her, and then leave.
He keeps thinking that as he pockets his phone and his wallet and silently
leaves the bedroom, hoping he doesn’t bump into anyone on the way down to the
garage. Luck is on his side and he makes it without incident. Creeping into the
garage, he goes to the box that holds all the keys. He wants fast and furious.
Liv doesn’t have a Veyron here, which is upsetting. If they move here they will
have to ship it over. He picks the next best thing, as what she does have is a
McLaren MP4 Spider. He has wanted to drive one of these forever. He grabs the
key and unlocks it, pushing away the thought that he and Liv share a lot of
things in common, fast cars being one of them. He opens the door and then
curses himself. He had been about to jump into the passenger side. Fucking
British cars are backwards. He slides into the driver’s seat and roars the
engine to life as quietly as he can. Not the easiest task. Hopefully it sounded
more like a cub yawning than papa lion snarling. He opens the garage and eases
the car out, closing it behind him. The crunch of the gravel driveway is loud
and he winces, but keeps going. The gates open and he slams his foot down,
feeling the power of the engine surge the car forward. Shit. Wrong side of the
fucking road. How do people drive in this country with their narrow roads and
on the wrong side? He taps in the hotel’s coordinates into the GPS system and
it directs him on his way. He relaxes as he drives. He loves to drive. Living
with Liv, he rarely gets to drive anymore. They either get driven or Astral. He
should insist that they drive more often. He is sure she will turn her nose up
at that. Well, maybe not if they had the Veyron here.

Stop thinking about Liv
, he yells at himself. If he
keeps thinking about her, he will probably turn the car around. Focus on Tanya.
He pictures her. She is a Vampire. Around three hundred years old he thinks.
Russian by nature and fairly sexy, as sexy goes. Light blonde hair, deep brown
eyes, a rack that makes a person wonder if they are real or not (they are),
legs that stretch for miles, and a tongue that can do things that drive a man
to distraction. He met her on the set. She is a Production Assistant or
something. She sensed him straight away and has been hounding him ever since.
She is a Greater Immortal like him, which means her sire is a Master Vampire.
He doesn’t know who he or she is. It’s not a question that gets asked for some reason,
which is another thing he would like to know but feels stupid for asking. But,
since she is Russian, it makes him think that her sire’s sire was Gregor.
Disgusting fucker. He thinks he probably hated him more than he hates
Constantine. The day he died the world probably sighed in relief. But he
doesn’t really give a damn. Even if her bloodline is Constantine’s, he is still
going to fuck her. Bang her and then leave. No one has to know. It will be a
one-time thing. No big deal. Being a Vampire races his thoughts. One second he
is thinking about one thing and the next it is something completely different.
He thinks it gets worse the older they get as he knows he struggles sometimes
to keep up with Liv, and that bastard is even worse. It’s enough to give him a
permanent migraine. A permanent hard-on and a permanent migraine. Not the best
combination. The car eats up the miles and before he knows it he is in the
city. He feels a pang of nerves as he pulls up outside the hotel. The valets
rush forward, eager to get their hands on the car, but he hardly notices them
as he hands them the keys and enters the deserted lobby. He already knows her
room number, so he goes straight to the elevators and stabs the button
impatiently. He wants this over. He wants his release and then he wants to go
home. She opens the door as he knocks, completely naked, and pulls him inside.
“I’m so glad you called,” she says as she slides her hands up him and pushes
his jacket off. “I was most disappointed that you left so abruptly on Tuesday.”

He doesn’t say anything. He’s not here to chat. He pushes
her against the back of the sofa and kisses her. Her tongue swirls against his
in a dizzying rhythm, round and round. Nothing like the way Liv kisses, which
makes his knees weak. His hands roam over her body, squeezing her huge tits and
pulling on her nipples until they are like torpedoes. They are too big, he
thinks absently, he doesn’t like more than his hand can cover. Liv’s tits are
perfect. The perfect size to hold and suck on.

Stop it!
he yells at himself again.
Stop thinking
about her
.

He slides his fingers into Tanya and groans. She is so wet.
This is what he came here for. An eager, wet pussy for him to ram his cock
into. She wraps her leg around his waist as she pulls him even closer to her.
He removes his hand from her and undoes his pants. He’s not taking her to bed,
he’s not getting undressed, all he wants is to fuck her and leave. He shoves
his cock into her before he can change his mind and grabs her hips. She is wet
and slippery, but he doesn’t fit well inside her. Not like he does with Liv.
It’s like his cock was designed to fit inside his wife. He kisses her as he
bangs her, but only to shut her up. She is making these ridiculous noises like
some sort of bad porn actor. Liv doesn’t make those noises during sex, when she
comes she then lets him know he has pleased her. She doesn’t need to pretend or
feel the need to encourage him and she has never once faked it. Women think men
don’t know, but they do. But he honestly doesn’t care if Tanya comes now or
not. He is ready and if she hasn’t warmed up yet, that’s not his problem. He
feels his balls tighten and he groans into her mouth as he shoots his load into
her and she fakes her orgasm at the same time. The ache eases and his dick goes
soft and the tension leaves him as he slips out of her and does up his pants.

“Thanks. I’ll see ya,” he says to her as he bends to pick up
his discarded jacket, and the shock on her face is almost comical. He would
laugh if he didn’t feel so dirty. He has to get out of here right now. He
leaves as she yells at him in Russian. He doesn’t understand her, but he is
willing to bet it’s not very polite. He crashes back into reality in the
elevator and he repulses himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he
realizes what he has done. He can smell her on him. He has to get rid of the
scent of her. As the doors ding open, he finds the bathrooms and runs the taps,
washing his hands thoroughly. Shit. What if Liv is home already when he gets
back? She will smell this straight away. Her senses are more honed than his.
She can probably smell it all the way from where she is now. He pulls his dick
out and washes that too, hoping that no one comes in, but it’s late--or
early--depending on whether you’ve been to bed yet or not, and no one
interrupts him. He dries off and thinks about changing his pants before he goes
home, but realizes that there will be no shops open. Oh, what has he done? He
has betrayed his beautiful wife. He has to tell her. He has to come clean. He
knows she will understand if he can just explain it to her. She won’t mind the
fucking bit, it’s the part where he did it behind her back that he knows she
will have a problem with. He grabs the keys from the reluctant valet and sets
the GPS to take him home. He breaks every speed limit by miles on the way back.
He has no doubt he racked up a wedge of speeding fines. He can’t believe that
he drove nearly an hour each way for three minutes with a woman he doesn’t even
like. The house is dark and quiet and Cole hopes that he can make it back in
without seeing anybody.