Bad Blood (Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter, Vol. 3) (5 page)

I’d just have to cross that bridge when I got to it and hope for the best on the other side.

I stretched one leg into the aisle once the drink cart had made its final pass through the cabin. I had on a pair of flip flops—no more stilettos, thank you very much!—and toned, tanned bare legs beneath my short sundress. I hadn’t run six miles in the desert every morning for nothing.

The captain came on the intercom to announce our final decent into Anchorage and ask that all electronic devices be turned off. No more obsessing over texts. At least not for the next ten or so minutes until we landed.

The day before leaving, I’d texted my mom the flight number and arrival time. I offered to call when I landed, but she said not to worry, I’d have a ride.

As I approached the security point, after de-boarding, I wondered if my mom and grandma would be standing on the other side to greet me.

I half expected to collect my baggage alone and find Melcher’s black sedan waiting in the pick-up lane. Couldn’t even let a girl unpack before the debriefing. But as I neared the outer terminal, it wasn’t my mom or Melcher waiting inside the terminal, but Dante.

I didn’t have to wait for him to notice me. His eyes were on me immediately. I watched for his big, goofy grin to spread across his lips, but his stony expression held a severity over his features that stopped me in my tracks for half a second before I regained my footing.

I swallowed and walked past the security guard.

3

At first, I thought Dante was mad at me. I had left without consulting him or saying good-bye. He never sounded upset in his text messages, so why give me grief now?

I couldn’t believe he wouldn’t have a smile for me or take a step forward as I approached.

He wasn’t wearing a jacket, just a pair of snug jeans and a thin ribbed T-shirt that spread over his taut, toned abs. Dante looked tan even in winter, but summer had been especially kind to his skin, turning him into a bronzed stud of a man.

Maybe it was spending the last six months at an all-women’s boot camp, but suddenly Dante looked like the Greek Titan god, Oceanus, surging from the high desert on shimmering waves.

The heels of my flip flops snapped against the floor as I walked up to him. Dante’s eyes looked extra blue in his tan face.

Before I could say anything, he took my head in his hands and kissed me on the lips.

There was nothing playful about the movement of his lips, the tip of his tongue touching mine, teasing me with an all-out invasion if only I’d relent.

When I kissed Dante back, his grip tightened around my neck. I would have thought kissing my past mentor would be awkward, but it beat figuring out what to say after a six month absence.

As the kiss continued, it felt more natural, like instinct, like breathing.

Everything around us became a blur. Sound receded and took on a dreamlike quality that echoed inside my ears. Dante’s chest pressed against mine. He felt as solid as a pillar, strong enough to hold me up no matter how much I leaned in.

We kissed and kissed. No tongues, other than touching tips now and then, just a raw, passionate mouth-to-mouth make-out in the terminal.

My entire body hummed with pleasure, as though my ribs were the strings on a violin vibrating under the skilled hands of a musician.

Dante planted feather-light kisses over me between rough, lip-blistering kisses.

I was beginning to think we were setting some kind of record for world’s longest lip lock when Dante pulled back gently. His lips curved up. And there was the smile I’d been expecting. He slipped his hand into mine and entwined our fingers.

“Let’s get your things,” he said with a nod toward the escalators.

Dante gave my hand a slight tug. It took a moment for my legs to work, but soon he led me toward the escalator and to the baggage carousel. Bags were already toppling out and circulating the luggage belt.

“Tell me when you see yours,” Dante said, giving my hand a squeeze.

“There,” I said when I saw my bag. “The black duffel.”

Dante let go of my hand to grab the duffel bag. He slung it over his shoulder. “Anything else?”

“That’s it.”

Dante grinned. “Let’s get out of here.”

I walked beside him, suddenly shy and unsure of what to say.

“Your mom and grandma have been cooking all afternoon,” Dante said. “They’ve got a special ‘welcome home’ dinner planned for you tonight.”

“Is that why they sent you to pick me up?”

Dante stopped walking in the middle of the hallway. My feet slowed on cue. We were face-to-face, not even a foot away. My eyes dropped to his lips before I could stop myself. Dante grinned.

“I came because I couldn’t wait a second longer.” He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips with the same hunger as before. This one didn’t last long before Dante took my hand in his and said, “Come on.”

The brightly lit tunnel connecting baggage claim to the parking garage gave me a Twilight Zone sensation as I walked hand-in-hand with Dante.

Dinner with the family. Was Dante still pretending we were going out for my grandmother’s benefit, or did he really think we were together?

I felt like I’d landed in some kind of alternate universe that came with an insta-boyfriend. Was this really the way it worked?

The closest I’d ever come to having a boyfriend turned out to be a vampire. Did that even count? It had been brief and ended in disaster.

I gripped Dante’s hand firmly.

The glaring white hallway turned into dark gray concrete when we stepped through the sliding doors into the parking garage. A man in a navy business suit passed us, heading into the terminal. The garage was deserted, and although it was a bright end of summer day, the surrounding concrete and shadows gave me the chills.

I looked around for Dante’s white Jeep, but didn’t see it. He led me through the garage. We passed dozens of empty parking spots before I noticed the Jeep parked in the farthest corner.

I wanted to crack a joke about parking that far away, but I seemed to be tongue-tied at the moment.

Dante’s fingers were warm. He rubbed my hand with his thumb a couple times in a caressing motion I found unnerving.

He released my hand once we reached the Jeep and loaded my duffel in back. The slam of the trunk echoed through the deserted garage. I felt it inside my chest. Hands now completely free, Dante turned to me.

I knew I was in trouble.

I stood trapped between Dante and his car. He stepped forward, pushing me against the Jeep. His mouth was on mine before I had a chance to take a breath. This time his hands roamed freely, sliding down my torso, gripping me when they reached my waist, holding me steady as he pushed his pelvis into mine, revealing a rock-hard erection. I sucked in a breath. I never remembered closing my eyes, but even with them shut I swore I could see Dante’s self-satisfied smile at my throaty reaction to his hard on.

My eyes fluttered open as he gyrated against me. The contrast between his body heat and the cool air drifting up my skirt had my body feverish one moment and shivering the next.

I had definitely been in the desert too long.

This was Dante. Goofy guy Dante: talks with his mouth full and makes immature innuendos. At the moment he was Dante: rock solid He-Man with fingers meant only for caressing every inch of my body.

Keeping one arm wrapped around my waist, Dante reached over with his free hand and opened the backdoor of the Jeep. He maneuvered me through the door, against the back bench, and lifted me by the hips onto the backseat.

Dante slid my dress up to my thighs. The cool air instantly prickled my legs as they dangled out of the car. One of my flip flops slipped off. Dante stepped in between my thighs and wrapped
them around his torso. Once I squeezed his waist between my limbs, he let go of my legs and went for his zipper.

My heart beat like a jackhammer inside my chest. I felt trapped inside a dream waiting for someone to scream, “Wake up, Aurora!”

My breath quickened. Liquid fire swarmed my open legs. Everything felt hazy and provocative. The voice of reason had run for cover, knowing it was no match for Dante’s need to ravish me or my own desire to be taken in a fit of passion strong enough to cause volcanoes to erupt.

There was nothing to stop us. We were both diseased, sterile—we had no life to give, only that to take, experience, and savor.

I thought Dante would be the kind of lover who vocalized his intentions, but his sober expression was an even bigger turn on.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip.

His fly zipped down. I couldn’t see anything lying on my back. I propped myself on my elbows in time to watch Dante slide his fingers through his jean belt loops and tug down.

Just then, a long, drawn-out honk shattered the silence. My eardrums yelped in protest. I instantly cringed. The dreadful sound had come directly behind the Jeep, and now someone was hitting their horn over and over.

Dante quickly zipped his pants and pulled away from my legs. I was too embarrassed to peek outside at what was going on, but I saw Dante striding toward the origin of the sound.

“Yeah, yeah,” he called out. “Drive on. Nothing to see here.”

I yanked down my dress as the car zoomed away.

“Punk kids,” Dante said. He sounded annoyed, but when he turned, he smiled like it was all a fun joke.

I slipped off the seat and onto the concrete below, jamming my foot into the sandal I’d lost. I really was awake now. It had taken a car horn to blast through my delirium.

My lips pressed together into a tight frown. I didn’t share Dante’s amusement. He must have recognized my no-nonsense look.

Dante stepped over and kissed my forehead. “Sorry for the interruption. We’ll take our time tonight.”

Tonight? I was still trying to process the fact that I’d almost jumped Dante’s bones inside a parking garage.

I hadn’t even been back for thirty minutes.

And what about dinner with my mother? Were we just going to eat and leave after I’d been away for half a year? And would my mom really be okay with me spending the night with Dante? I knew she liked him, but I was still eighteen.

Without commenting, I walked around to the passenger’s side and climbed in. Dante did the same. He looked at my legs as I smoothed my skirt over my knees.

“Nice tan,” he said.

“That’s what happens in places that have sunlight,” I replied.

Dante started the Jeep. I stared at his throat when he turned his head to back up. We had to do a full circle around the garage to get out. I waited for Dante to rip around the corners, but he eased the vehicle around the turns as though transporting delicate cargo.

“So, can you tell me where you were now that you’re back?”

“The Oregon desert. What about you? Go on many exciting missions over the summer?”

“Negative,” Dante said. “Not much activity under the midnight sun. I think the vamps are hibernating.”

Sounded great to me.

I felt as though I was emerging from a cave when we drove out of the parking garage. At five-fifty p.m. the sun remained high in the sky. I loved early fall in Alaska.