Draven's Crossing: Tempestuous Crossings (7 page)

“Just wondering what other things I can keep you from doing. Are vampires allergic to silver?”

He was amused by her lack of knowledge. Shaking his head, he answered. “Nope, that’s werewolves. Most assume it’s holy water, but that’s not true, and as you can see, neither is sunlight. Invite me in, and I’ll inform you of all the things that aren’t true of my kind.”

Her eyebrow rose in question, and she stepped back. “Since it’s for my education, which can in turn help the campaign, please do come in.”

For a moment, he toyed with the idea of making her repeat the invite, but decided against it. As he brushed past her, he took his time savoring the scent of her perfume, and arousal, as he went. He looked around and saw an open floor plan; the living room flowed into the dining area and kitchen, which was separated from the other spaces with a long island. The colors were a range of soft creams, neutral khakis, greens and warm reds and oranges. Remains of dinner, coffee and wine floated in the air to combine with her scent. Plush overstuffed chairs, couches and dark wood furniture were all arranged around a fireplace. A TV sat on a small rolling table in the corner playing something where two people were kissing. Gentle strains of the aria from Madam Butterfly floated from the speakers that were set in a dark wood entertainment center.

Magazines and mail were strewn over a glass table with gold metal work. An empty wine glass stood alone near a corner. The place looked lived in and comfortable. Seeing her apartment told him a lot more about the woman than what he’d seen at dinner or the office.

“As you can see, I’ve already eaten, but I’m sure I can make room for dessert.” She picked up her plate, the wine bottle, and bypassed him to head to the kitchen, where she took down a wine glass and placed her dishes in the sink. The wine she re-corked and put away. He decided to settle on the plush couch. Rose returned, setting down the glass on a side table and cleaned off the magazines and mail. “Sorry about that. Was catching up. So, you were going to tell me what other fables of the vampire are right and wrong?”

She uncorked the wine he’d brought with him and let it breathe, while settling back in the chair opposite of him.

“You’re so far away.” He tried to pout only to watch her laugh.

“Don’t even try it. Besides, pouting on a man does not look good.” She held out her hand. For a moment, he was confused.

“The pie. You can set up the rest of the food, if you want. How can you eat? I thought vampires couldn’t digest anything?”

He handed her the various plates and let her arrange it however she wished.

“Well, think of it this way; we drink blood and that gets our heart started, right? Gives us the look of being alive. Well, as alive as we can be. That spark, so to speak, must also animate other things. Only the older vampires can eat. Anything younger than a hundred years old would throw it up or get violently ill. Think of the ability to eat similar to that of a chameleon blending in with its surroundings. Hunters wouldn’t look twice at a pale person eating a burger, would they? We’ve learned tricks on how to look human. Eating and drinking is one of them, and yes, after we’ve consumed blood we can digest and do other things.” He let his voice drop to a husky tone.

“Interesting, makes sense.” She seemed to brush off the intimation by moving the plates around. “And what are you guys allergic to?”

“Well, the sunlight thing is true.” He held up his hand to stop her protests. “But again, only for newbies. Their bodies, similar to that eating problem, haven’t fully acclimated to being of the undead. As for stakes, I would assume everyone would be allergic to those. And I love Italian food too much to be allergic to garlic. Holy water will warm my skin, but not make me burn, and holy relics depends on the belief of the person. If they think I’m truly evil, then yeah, I’ll hurt.”

She held out a glass of wine to him, which he accepted. “What about blood? Does it have to be a specific kind?”

“You mean do we only feed on human blood? Yes, only human. Animal blood doesn’t jive with the way we digest things. Trust me, it’s been tried over and over again to avoid detection, and something always goes wrong. For some reason, the blood doesn’t absorb into our bodies the way human blood does. So the defenses we’ve learned to use to blend in don’t work. Our skin remains pale. In some cases, our fangs don’t retract; in others, our skin doesn’t warm, or we can’t be out in the sunlight. Doesn’t have to be fresh, just has to be human blood.” He settled back, feeling a distance between them. Rose went about making up a small plate for him, and then one for her, as if nothing was wrong.

“Aren’t you full? Chef doesn’t believe in ignoring the calories.” Draven was thankful he got a good variety of things. She seemed to like the various cheeses and bread the most.

She piled a small piece of cheddar on a slice of French bread. “Can’t let this go to waste, now can I? Besides, I skipped lunch. Was stuck doing a presentation for this demanding political figure.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Minx. You should have said you were hungry. I would have stopped the meeting.”

“You forget that David was there,” she pointed out.

Scowling, he focused on his food. “Moving on, what other questions do you have?”

“So you guys can like, get it up, right? Everything works?” She didn’t look at him.

He nearly choked on the spoonful of stew he’d put in his mouth. As he struggled to swallow, his eyes watered. A look across the table at her revealed a seeming air of innocence that made him want to spank her until she writhed on his lap, begging for his cock. After taking a long drink of wine and ignoring the burn, he recovered before answering her question.

“Are you asking for a demonstration? Or perhaps maybe you’d like me to drop my pants and show you?” Watching her reaction carefully, he was pleased that the perfume of her musk increased, and she squirmed in her seat.

Licking her lips, she shook her head. “Perv.”

“You asked.” He smiled, amused that she hadn’t answered him directly.

She still didn’t look at him. “A simple yes or no would have been fine. You didn’t have to—”

“What? Be so blunt? Again, you asked.”

When Rose said nothing, he decided to push the subject. “I’m hard right now. Hard enough to hammer nails, but I’m behaving, even though I can smell your desire. Fuck, it smells delicious. I’d love to say screw dinner and just drop down to my knees and eat you.” His eyes narrowed as he watched her squirm.

“Draven, stop.” Her voice was low, breathy. Rose’s pulse had increased. He heard her heartbeat like an erratic drum in his head. His nostrils flared at the increase in her arousal. She moved from side to side in her seat, even going so far as crossing her legs.

“You want me,” he stated.

“And I said stop.” Rose lifted her head, a warning glint in her eyes.

He decided to pull back instead of pushing. It was clear by her expression that her limits had been reached. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

She said nothing, making him wonder if he’d screwed himself over. “If you want me to leave, I can. And you can rescind the invitation if you want. I’ll understand; we’ll keep it professional.”

He swallowed hard, hating the turn this had taken. Draven didn’t want to be just professional with her. A bolt of understanding hit him out of blue.
I want to know her, have her give herself to me of her free will, not out of some seduction. I actually want more with her.
He stared down at his food and prayed she wouldn’t kick him out.
Please, whoever’s listening, let her give me a chance.

“I could have had any job I wanted, was offered quite a few high paying positions. I was young, fresh from college. A lot of guys think that because you’re in your early twenties. you’re a moron.”

“I never thought—”

“Did I say you?”

The pointed look she gave him made him wince. Pushing some hair off her shoulder, she looked down at her plate. “I found out early that sometimes older men don’t respect you, even if you have something to offer other than a great rack and ass. My first mentor pushed and pushed for us to be more. I gave in, and he dumped me the next day for someone younger with plastic tits and longer legs. I don’t mind you pushing. It excites me to know someone as sexy as you wants to fuck me.”

He opened to mouth to correct her statement, but she continued talking.

“But that’s all this will be, some fucking. You’re a vampire. I’m not sure how old you are, but I’m guessing you’ve been around, seen this, done that. I’m nothing new.” She calmly sipped her wine.

“First and foremost you are not nothing new to me. I’ve never met someone like you. You push me, challenge me. It’s exciting. I know you’ll never bore me, nor will you let me get away with crap just because you want something and will blackmail me later. The value you place on your job, and yourself, is sexy as hell. I love a woman who respects herself and takes her job seriously. I’ll be honest, I do have an old fashioned streak. I’ll want to take care of you at times, and the concept of you working will sometimes confuse me, because I’d make sure you want for nothing, but I respect you in everything.”

Her jaw dropped, and he realized he was saying a lot of things that spoke more of a man in a committed relationship than someone trying to form ties with someone he was interested in. Mentally, he slapped himself, but refused to take what he said back.

“That’s how I feel. I’ve never met anyone like you. Someone who makes me think and keeps me on my toes, and for the first time since I took this job, makes me want to say fuck it and spend every waking moment worshipping your body,” Draven declared.

He shifted in his seat as his cock pressed against his fly. Draven looked her over. No make-up, relaxed, hair loose and free around her face. She was a goddess. He’d never been so enamored by one woman before. The air pulsed with unused sexual tension. The perfume of her yearning increased, as did the beating of her heart. Her chest rose and fell faster and faster. The sweet sound of her breath coming out in soft pants made him groan aloud.

“I know we’ve just met, and I’ll try to go slow, I swear to the gods, I’ll try. But damn it, woman, you drive me crazy, and I have no clue how I’ll survive working with you without doing horribly inappropriate things to your luscious body when we’re alone together. I have fantasies of fucking you against every available inch of my office and anywhere within the building. And no, I won’t stop it because you need to understand what you’re getting into with me.” He paused to organize his thoughts and give her a moment to compose herself. It was clear by the death grip she had on the edge of her chair that Rose was struggling.

“I’m mayor of this town, and I value this job, even the bullshit that goes with it and yes, there are expectations from you as my significant other, but other than that I don’t care. Your comfort and happiness is important, and I don’t give a fuck what a past mentor did. I’m not him. I’ll tell you upfront how I feel, no games, Rose, not anymore. So, if something happens, I expect no regrets. Just know there is danger that comes with being with me, and I’ll protect you with everything I have.” He meant every word and waited, holding his breath to hear what she had to say.

Draven watched, shocked as she slipped out of her chair. She placed her plate on the coffee table and whimpered. He put his food down and went to her.

“Rose? Rose, are you okay?” He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. In response, she threw her arms around his neck, causing him to fall back. His head hit the edge of the couch, but he didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her to him, savoring the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest. He ran a hand down to cup her ass. She moaned and pressed her lips to his. Rose pulled her head back and stared down at him.

“You win this round, Casanova.”

It took him a moment to understand what she was saying before she kissed him again. The contact was demanding, heated and possessive. Her hands tunneled into his hair, grabbing handfuls, controlling his head. Her tongue traced the seam of his mouth. Groaning, he gave in to her control of the situation. Their bodies moved and maneuvered, not breaking contact. Draven managed to get on his back and lay his head on the floor while she straddled him. The heat of her pussy pressing against the crotch of his pants tested his self control even more.