Under His Skin (38 page)

The past leapt at him like an alligator exploding from the muddy waters of a swamp, opening its jaws to reveal jagged teeth ready to tear the flesh from his body. He jerked away from it, almost choking on fear. He had to send her away. He had to sink back into the apathetic fog that had been his straightjacket for nearly a decade.

“We do not,” he gasped. “There will be no deal!” He waved a hand at her, desperately trying to get her out of harm’s way. The monster of his past stared at him with
slitted
reptilian eyes, waiting for an opportunity to wreak havoc on his present. “Leave my home and do not return.”

Despite his resolve, his voice came out hoarse. Fear of the past colored the desire burning inside him, but it was a close battle. He turned before his expression could betray his conflict. Looking at her made the desire to bed her all the worse. If he didn’t leave now, he may not have the strength to deny her a second time.

He had just taken a step toward the stairs when the sharp copper scent of blood jerked his head up. His lustful thoughts screeched to a halt and a new hunger roared to take its place. His eyes widened and coherent thought vanished as his mind sharpened to a fine hungry point. Something inside him opened its jaws, anticipating a hot meal pulsing with life.

Footsteps pounded the stone floor and he turned just in time to see Gia leap toward him. He stared at the smear of blood on her lips, shock holding him temporarily suspended. Her hand threaded through his hair and she rose up on tiptoe to cover his mouth with hers.

Her blood splashed on his tongue like hot wine, fragrant and rich. He rolled it around his mouth, relishing the flavor before swallowing. As it swirled through his body, every nerve sprang to life. Adrenaline spiraled upwards to meet the rush of blood and he trembled with the first life he’d tasted in seven years.

Bloodlust rose like a ravenous beast inside him. His body cried out in starvation, demanding that he satisfy its monstrous appetite. He didn’t just want to drink from her—he wanted to feel his fangs shredding her flesh, to bathe in her life force as it gushed from her body in thick waves.

He snaked his arms around her back and jerked her body against him. A small sound of surprise fell from her lips as the hard planes of his body collided with her soft curves. The vulnerable sound fed his frenzy and he bit her lip, desperate to increase the flow of blood. He was rewarded with another cry of surprise. Gia’s hands pressed against his chest, gently at first.
 
Determined not to give up his prize, he dug his fingers into her back, a not so subtle reminder of his strength. He could push his hands into her body and rip her in two like a ragdoll if he wanted.

The warning seemed to be enough and Gia stopped pushing against him. Her body relaxed and a wave of primal satisfaction washed over him. He was dominant. She would submit. He had the strange urge to throw back his head and howl his victory, but he couldn’t tear his mouth from the fountain of vitality coming from her ravaged lip. His flesh absorbed the life coming from her veins like a dry desert soaking in the rain. It ignited his blood, turning it to molten lava in his arteries. His manhood pulsed with its warmth and he inhaled sharply at the spike in desire.

The feel of his cock straining against his pants brought a flood of lust from his loins. It mixed with his hunger for blood, turning it into a heady cocktail that made his senses spin and his hands tighten. The two bestial hungers collided, fighting for control. Lost in the turmoil, he groaned into the kiss.

Gia splayed her fingers over his chest, dragging her nails over the soft material of his shirt. The gesture had the feel of arousal to it and he ate at her mouth with renewed fervor. Her lower body slid against his, creating a delicious friction. She was teasing him, alerting him to the other dark pleasure her body had to offer. He hissed as his cock twitched in the confines of his pants. This kiss was but a taste of the Heaven he knew was inside her—and he wanted it all. He released his grip on her back. Taken by the urge to possess her completely, he grabbed the waistband of her jeans, preparing to rip them open.
 

A sudden blow to his chest ripped him out of the erotic cloud forming around them. Too shocked to catch himself, he sprawled onto the floor. The hard wood bruised his arm as he caught himself and he winced at the jarring pain. The world spun as he struggled to think through the arousal that muddled his mind. He stared up at Gia.

Blood trickled in a thick line down her chin. Her golden eyes burned with defiance, her chin jutted out in an unspoken challenge. She stood with her feet shoulder width apart and her hands in fists at her sides. She looked like an ancient goddess of war, ready and willing to charge into battle.

Realization dawned on him, her earlier “submission” now clear for the ruse it had been. He had let himself grow too confident, the mighty vampire against the slight female werewolf come to beg for protection. She’d taken advantage of it, striking out just when he’d been so certain of his victory. Now her eyes flashed as she stared him down and he knew with a strange certainty that to leap for her again could cost him his afterlife.

He ran his tongue over his fangs, tasting the remnants of her blood.
Power
.
He could taste it in her blood, feel the weight of it in his body. He remained still, watching her silently, determined not to rush into another mistake. The situation grew more puzzling with every moment. Why would a person with power such as this be coming to him to bargain for protection?

His eyes bored into hers and the scent of her arousal made a mind-numbing return, invading his senses and sweeping away all sense of logic. His fingers gripped the floor as he resisted the urge to fall on her like a wild dog, his rational train of thought completely derailed. It had been too long, he had forgotten how to control such . . . urges.

“Do we have a deal?”

Her voice came out breathy, but clear. The lingering tone of desire in her voice pulled at him, made his desperate to take her in his arms despite the risk. She wanted
him,
it was so obvious it pained him. And yet she fought him . . .

He regarded her for a few silent moments, the perplexity of the situation slowly bringing him back to his senses. This woman offered him what he’d denied himself for several long years. Dare he accept? Dare he step back into the world that had nearly killed him?

“Grigore,” he said finally.

“Master?”

He swallowed hard, his head still spinning.
“Show Gia to a room.
Make sure she is comfortable.” He nodded to her. “You have won your deal.”

Read more of APHRODITE’S HUNT

About the Author

Jennifer
Blackstream
is a psychology enthusiast with both a B.A. and M.A. in Psychology. Her fascination with the human mind is most appeased through the study of mythology and folklore as well as the novels of Terry
Pratchett
.

Jennifer enjoys listening to Alice Cooper, trying new recipes (to which she will add garlic whether it calls for it or not), watching television with her family, and playing with her woefully intelligent three year old son.

Jennifer spends most of her time drinking coffee from her X-Men mug and desperately trying to get all her ideas written down before her toddler can find that all magical button on her laptop to make all her work vanish.

To learn more about Jennifer
Blackstream
and her novels, visit her website at
http://www.jenniferblackstream.com/
. In addition to information about J.B. and her books, you will find the infamous
Typo Challenge
,
book trailers
, and a mysterious group called the
“Sirens of the Black Stream.”
Check it out.

Did you find a typo?

I hate typos. I do my best to rid my manuscripts of them before I send them to my editor, and then she does her best to find any stragglers that I missed. Still, sometimes the little buggers get by both of us and leap off the page to torment you, my loyal readers!

So here’s the deal. If you found any typos, go to
http://www.jenniferblackstream.com/the-typo-challenge.php
and use the contact form to report it (or “them” >gasp
!<
). Every month I will put the names of everyone who reported a typo into a hat and pick one out. That person will then be offered her (or his) choice of a Barnes & Noble or Amazon $25 gift certificate.

That’s right . . . you can win a gift certificate just for reporting a typo.

And thank you for helping me improve the reading experience for later readers.

- Jennifer
Blackstream