Dead and Loving It (7 page)

H
e didn't care. He really didn't. She was fine, and if she wasn't, who cared? He hadn't hurt her. Not really.

He checked on her for the eleventh time in sixty minutes and was relieved to see the bruise on the underside of her jaw had faded to a mere shadow. Guilt rolled off his shoulders like a boulder.

To save time and steps—if he left he'd just be in here five minutes later—he sat down in the chair beside the bed. He cupped his chin in his hand, leaned forward, and watched her sleep.

Jane scowled, even in the throes of unconsciousness. It would have made him smile if he hadn't felt so angry and betrayed.

Betrayed? All right, tell the truth and shame the devil…yes.
Betrayed!
And angry and sick at heart and
furious
with the little twit tied to his bed. Most of his anger was directed at himself, it was true, but he had a nice helping saved for Miss Jane.

She'd fooled him; that was all. A simple thing, but unforgivable. She made him believe she accepted the monster, when in fact she most assuredly had not. The duplicitous wretch agreed to join him for dinner to placate him and then made arrangements to slink out of town like a thief. If he hadn't shown up early to escort her to dinner, she would have disappeared and he might never have known what had become of her. He would have wasted years of his life worrying about her fate.

Instead, he'd taken in the situation at a glance and acted accordingly. Well, all right, that was a rather large lie. He had panicked—all he could think of was to get her home, stop her from leaving him. Leaving
town,
rather. And in his panic, he'd smacked her when he only meant to tap her. The one bit of luck was that it had happened too quickly for the lone witness—the doorman—to see much more than a swirl of cloth. Dusk and speed were his friends, even if Jane was not.

And that was the rub of it. He'd allowed himself to forget, for one evening, that he was the monster in the fairy tales. He had forgotten there could be no relationship with a woman other than the most carnal type. He wouldn't have vampire women, and mortal women wouldn't have him. Well, that was fine. That was just fine.

He was a monster, and he was done pretending otherwise.

But Jane would pay for making him forget. She'd pay for making him think, however briefly, that he was a man first and a beast second.

J
ane groaned and tried to roll over. The phone was ringing. It would be Moira, telling her to get her ass to the Cape. She couldn't see Dick tonight. She had to answer the phone and tell Moira to go fuck herself, and then—

Wait.

That had already happened. So why was she still in bed?

She opened her eyes and tried to sit up. Three alarming facts registered immediately on her brain: 1) she couldn't sit up, and2) she was tied to a bed. She was, in fact, 3) tied down in the same room with an annoyed vampire. And not a prayer of room service.

“Ohhhhhh, you
idiot!
” she howled. If she could have slapped her hand over her eyes, she would have. If she could have slapped
him,
she would have. As it was, her ankles and arms were spread wide and tied to each poster of the bed. “Do you have any idea of the trouble you've landed me in, numb nuts?”

Dick, sitting in the chair next to the bed, blinked at her. He did that a lot…a long, slow, thoughtful blink when he was taken by surprise. It was like a stall for time or something. She thought it was kind of cute yesterday. “I shouldn't have expected maidenly protestations,” he said after a long pause.

“You
should
expect a fractured skull, you undead idiot! What the
fuck
am I doing tied to your bed?
Is
it your bed? It damn well better be your bed! If I'm in some strange dead guy's bed, your ass is grass!”

He brought a hand up to his chin…and then got up and abruptly left. She used the chance to yank at her bonds—no good. They were soft, like cloth, but amazingly strong. Were her bonds lined with bubble gum or what?

She strained to hear and, very faintly, could hear muffled laughter coming from about thirty feet away. Dick had trotted out to the hall to have a giggle at her expense—fucking great.

The door was thrown open a moment later, and when Dick returned, he was stone-faced. “Sorry about that. I thought I left something on the stove. Now where were we?”

She kicked out at him. The bonds let her leg leave the bed, but not by much. “We were talking about how you're going to die a painful and horrible death—again! What the hell have you trussed me up with?”

The left side of his mouth twitched. “It's elastic lined with titanium wire. It won't hurt you if you pull on it, but it's impossible to break. Even I have trouble breaking it, and I'm quite a bit stronger than you are.”

Wanna bet, Dead Man Walking?
“Do you have any idea—
aarrgh!
I'm supposed to be meeting my boss right this minute! What time is it?”

“About two
A.M.
”

“
Aaaarrrgggghhh!
Jerk! I'm five hours late!”

“Another date?” he asked silkily.

“No, Deaf and Undead, I
told
you. My boss called—well,
he
didn't call, one of his lackeys did—and told me to get to the office, pronto. And when he says jump, we
leap,
dude. I didn't have time to leave you a note, but I would have come back!”

“Sure you would have.”

Jane was so annoyed, she felt like biting herself. Instead, she yanked impotently on her bonds again. “Yes I would have, dill-hole!”

“Your boss calls you on a weekend, and you must drop everything and race to his side? Really, Janet. I was expecting a better story than that.”

She snarled at him. If he made her much madder, she'd start barking at the goddamned ceiling. “Jesus, to think I was actually looking forward to seeing you! And this is how you take rejection…pervert!”

Something flashed in his eyes then. Way down deep. She was suddenly reminded of the lake back home she used to do laps in. The blue water was pretty and inviting, but the lake was spring-fed and freezing cold, even in July. You didn't know how cold it was until you committed yourself and jumped. Then you were stuck, and you got moving or you froze.

“So you admit you rejected me?”

“No, doorknob! I told you the truth. You can believe it, or you can go fuck yourself.”

“Is there a third choice?”

“Yes…untie me so I can make a phone call!”

“I decline.”

“You can't just keep me here like a…a…” She practically spat the word. “Like a
pet
or something.”

“Can't I?”

Suddenly he was standing over her, casually unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders. Her eyes widened until they felt like they were practically bulging. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You're a bright girl. You'll figure it out in a minute.”

“Don't you
dare
!”

“I dare much, now that my heart—” He cut himself off abruptly, and she heard the click of his teeth coming together. What the hell was going
on
with this guy?

Off came the trousers, the socks, the underwear. Nude, Dick was exceedingly yummy…long legs, broad shoulders, and a tasty flat stomach that made her think about hot fudge sauce and whipped cream. His chest was lightly furred with blond hair two shades darker than the hair on his head. His muscle definition was excellent, and she had a sudden, maddening urge to touch him to see if his skin was as smooth as it looked. It would be, she thought, like velvet encased in steel. Or marble…he was quite pale.

He reached out and flipped off the light…
click.
She consciously dilated her pupils and could see him again, a pale blur in the dark. A blur with glittering blue eyes.

She felt his cool hand on her thigh and then his fingers were nimbly unbuttoning her dress. She kicked out again, to no avail. He popped open the clasp on her bra—stupid front clasps!—and with odd care, gently tore her panties down the middle. She hissed at him. Twelve bucks at Victoria's Secret! The bitch's secret was that she marked up her underwear by six hundred percent!

“You are an asshole,” she said clearly.

“True enough.” He pulled her panties free, spread her dress wide, and then pushed her bra out of the way. “Umm. Very nice.”

“Go fuck yourself, perv.”

“I'd rather not…besides,
you're
here, so why should I have to? We have hours until sunrise.” He chuckled. It sounded like cold water flowing over black rocks. “And Jane…I'm sooooo hungry. I've been waiting and waiting for you to wake up.”

“I hope I poison you. I hope you choke until your lungs explode. I hope my blood burns your windpipe. I hope—”

“I get the gist.
I
hope the next time you agree to spend the evening with me, you keep your word.” Then he was on her so suddenly she didn't have time to pull in air for a gasp. She braced herself as best she could for his brutal entry, for teeth and blood and pain.
Oh, when I get out of here I'm going to use your vertebrae for dice. See if I don't. And I won't cry, either. So there.

His mouth skimmed her jaw, and she felt him lick her jugular and nibble gently at the tender flesh. His cool hand closed over her breast, pressed against her warm flesh, and she felt her nipple harden against his palm. Then he was kissing her throat, the middle of her chest, and her stomach. She felt his thumbs on her cunt, spreading her wide, and she felt his tongue snake inside her. The shock of it nearly bent her up off the bed. His mouth was cool but quickly warmed, and she flinched back, thinking of his sharp canines.

But there was nothing to fear—or there was, but she quickly forgot it as waves of heat started from her crotch and radiated upward. His tongue was flicking in and out of her little tunnel, stabbing her clit, and then he pulled back and licked…excruciatingly slow licks that made her shake. She gritted her teeth as hard as she could and locked away the sounds she wanted to make. So he wasn't being a hard guy—fine. This still wasn't her idea. It still wasn't any different from smacking her around or shoving her up against a dirty alley wall or—or—

He stopped. He pulled back. She started to relax but then felt the sharp sting as his teeth broke the skin over her femoral artery. She gasped—she couldn't help it—and tried to jerk away, but his hands held her fast.

His fingers smoothed the soft pelt between her thighs and then he was parting her lips again and stroking her throbbing clit. One of his fingers dipped inside her while his thumb pressed gentle circles around her increasingly slick flesh. Meanwhile, his mouth was busy on her inner thigh, and she could hear soft sucking.

This went on and on…she quickly lost track of time. She was screaming inside. Whenever she started to get close, he somehow knew and his fingers would still or pull away entirely. His mouth
never
stopped. Then he'd resume again, careful not to push her over the edge. After a while she still wasn't making any sounds, but the bed shook with her trembling.

At last he was sated. He pulled back and then bent to her and gave her a long, leisurely lick. “Ummm. You're so wet. I love that. And you taste
soooo
good. Everywhere, it seems. Your blood is really rich. What on earth have you been eating?”

She ground her teeth at him for answer. She felt his pelvis settle over hers, heard him chuckle. “Your rage could set the room on fire—better than being cold, I think?”

She didn't dignify that with an answer. Besides, if she opened her mouth—what might she say? She was horribly afraid she might ask—beg—to be fucked. Hard. For a long, long time. Her cunt throbbed. Her thigh throbbed. It wasn't pain; it was sheer yearning. She had never needed to come so badly.

When she felt him start to enter her, it took every ounce, every drop of her willpower not to strain to meet him. She resisted by listing his many odious offenses inside her head.

That
part of him was warm. And hard, and huge. His cock was parting her slowly and gently, and she had a quick thought:
He has to be gentle…he wasn't a few times before, and he hurt his partner. That's how he knows to tongue fuck first.
But that thought spiraled away into confusion as he shoved, and she felt him slam into her. She made a sound, some small sound, and his mouth was instantly on hers. She could taste her lust, and her blood, and then he was whispering into her mouth, “I couldn't help that, I'm sorry—am I hurting you?” His hands were fisting in her hair, he was groaning and thrusting, and her breath was coming in harsh gasps.

“Please,” she groaned. “Please—”
Don't stop. Don't ever stop. Harder. More. Faster. Please. Please. Please.

He groaned, too. “I wanted to hurt you but not like…I'll make it up to you, my own—” She heard him grind his teeth…and then he stopped so suddenly he was rigid with the strain of it. She was afraid to move, to breathe, but it didn't matter. He did the unthinkable anyway—slowly pulled out of her. She closed her eyes and whimpered as he went, hating herself for it even as she knew she could have done nothing to quell the sound.

“Jane. Tell the truth, love. Am I hurting you?” She felt his hand caress her cheek and opened her eyes. His teeth were set so hard his jaw trembled. Here was a perfect opportunity for revenge. And she couldn't do it.

“Twice,” she whispered.

He bent closer and dropped a kiss to her shoulder. “What?”

“Twice. This is my second time. Ever. In my life.”

“You—
what
?” She could have laughed at his horrified expression if she hadn't been ready to claw his eyes out for not letting her come. “Oh, Christ! I had no—I thought you—you seemed so tough I was sure—”

Tough? Sure. Real tough. She'd grown a shell around her soul the night she lost her virginity. The night she, in her ardor, broke her lover's back. It had happened on the last day of her freshmen year in college, and her then-boyfriend, as far as she knew, was still in a wheelchair. It was the first and last time she'd chosen someone who wasn't pack. It was, in fact, the last time she'd chosen anyone, until tonight. And she hasn't exactly chosen this, had she?

“You can't say
Christ,
” she whispered. “You're a vampire.”

“One of the many myths,” he whispered back. He stroked her hair. She could feel his cock on her leg, throbbing impatiently.
It
didn't give a fuck if she was hurt or not. It had business to get back to. And so did she. “Jane, why did you try to run away from me?”

“I didn't, dimwad. I told you the truth.”

“Hmm.”

“Now will you
please
finish and untie me?”

“Pick one.”

She nearly screamed. “What?”

“Pick one.” He tapped her clit with a teasing finger. “And I'll do it.” He kissed her again. He ducked down and licked her nipple and then sucked, hard. In their bonds, her hands curled into fists. “Whichever one. I'll do it. Thoroughly.”