Insatiable Craving: 2 (Insatiable Nights) (22 page)

“No,” Razor supplied, though in truth he didn’t know. The possibility hadn’t even occurred to him until that moment, and the sudden fear in her eyes made his stomach clench. Yet aside from gut reaction, the possibility itself seemed remote. His transformation had been immediate and unpleasant—the sensation of an alien presence inserting itself under his skin and contorting his insides. Ginny hadn’t looked at all discomforted in the time since biting her. In fact, she’d seemed rather…
happy.
“No, that—”

“It’s okay if it did,” Ginny whispered. She blinked once, then drew in a deep breath and shook her head as though to convince herself. She capped the sentiment with a nod before meeting Razor’s eyes and offering him a reassuring smile. “Human life hasn’t done me any favors anyway. Might be better off all wolfy.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Aria said, recapturing his attention. She shot him a grin. “You found yourself a keeper.”

“You have no idea.”

Aria turned back to Ginny. “Sweet as your selflessness is, it’s unneeded. From everything I’ve read it wouldn’t be so much a mystery if you were actually infected.”

“I don’t like that word.” Ginny crossed her arms. “Infected. He’s fine.”

Aria inclined her head. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Maybe since he sleeps with you, he’ll listen.”

Razor shifted his feet again, his cheeks warming. “No, Aria, this isn’t awkward at all. Thanks for asking.”

“Anytime.” The blonde’s annoying grin widened a notch or so. “All sources indicate a claiming bite is different from a transition bite. One means to take in—that is, Razor takes in Ginny as his mate—and the other means to spread. It’s all in the intent.”

“And what does it mean?” Ginny asked. “I mean, to be mated. It sounds kind of…”

“The word you’re looking for is permanent. Again, what the books say. And I still haven’t heard a thank you for all my research.”

“Thank you, Aria,” Razor snarled. “What do you mean permanent?”

“I mean you and honey-bunch better sure as fuck like each other, because she’s pretty much it for you.” Aria looked back to Ginny. “In essence, when he bit you, he pledged himself to you. If you haven’t claimed him back, you’ve essentially doomed him to pine for you for all eternity until you reciprocate. And by the way, this is the time to mention I’ll beat you to death with a rusty hammer if you hurt my Razor.” She shrugged. “No hard feelings though.”

Ginny smiled weakly. “Oh…”

“Yep, that’s pretty much the full of it.” Aria wedged her free hand into her pocket, the other remaining attentive at the medallion. “And on that note, goodbye.”

Razor’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“I mean I need to sleep.” She gestured at Ginny. “She can do my job tonight.”

“Aria!”

“Hey, if she’s getting a job, she might as well start tonight.”Aria’s eyes narrowed and set into an angry glare. “I mean it, Razor, I’m beat. Between cramming on all things wolf-related and adventures in your sex life these past couple nights, I need to rest.” She waved a hand at Ginny again. “She can fill in for me. Hell, she can run the show. It doesn’t take much, and if you keep it in your pants between now and show time, you can pretty much give her the rundown on what to do.”

Aria was clutching the amulet so tightly her knuckles had turned white, which was not exactly the most encouraging sign, but Razor again opted not to mention it. Instead, he lowered his gaze to the ground and stepped aside as she barreled past. Truthfully, it might be better for everyone if Aria went home. From experience, a cranky witch could introduce an uncertain element—the last thing he needed was his amplifier flying off stage and sending some patron to the hospital.

Again.

Besides, from the look on Ginny’s face, Aria’s information had yielded them no shortage of things to talk about.

For the zillionth time in two days, Ginny’s head was overrun by an onslaught of information. She had no idea where to start.

There were things she should be worried about—of that she was certain. Issues that should head the front of a very long line of questions, perhaps even accusations, about the events that had transpired last night. For starters, she hadn’t known Razor’s bite meant anything other than a rough, exciting addition to their bedroom play. And from how Razor had replied to Aria’s announcement, it was news to him as well.

Heady news.

How exactly else could one take the possibility of being chained to one woman for the rest of his life? No matter what was said beforehand—no matter how much he might love her. Love was a revelation she found herself believing, no matter how incredible it seemed. As Razor himself had said, stranger things had happened. His loving her wasn’t the only shock the past couple days had provided.

Yet loving her and devoting his life to her over a bite and a couple shared words were two different things. Especially when he hadn’t realized the significance of what he’d done. Of what he’d said.

Ginny inhaled sharply, her butt finding a seat against the stage. She hadn’t even felt herself move.

If nothing else, the past couple days had been an exercise in acceptance and courage. Acceptance of the things she could not change, as the mantra went, and the courage not to judge the future based on the past. This time last week the prospect of standing so close to a man—a man to whom she was sexually drawn and one she knew intimately—would have scared her witless. That part of herself had pieced itself back together again. Perhaps the first step had been admitting to herself she came to this place because of a sexual attraction rather than in spite of it. God knew how much time she spent trying to keep her distance from personal relationships.

All until now. Until Razor.

And that was the truly frightening thing. His loving her was the easier pill to swallow on the cusp of turning around and facing her fears rather than continuously dodging them. The truth about his nature—this brave new world she was just now discovering—didn’t frighten her at all. After the initial shock wore off she’d been nothing but intrigued, and yes, a little turned-on. Facing anything after staring down her greatest fear seemed a remarkably easy feat. And in that—in opening herself up to the possibility of revisiting a hurt she’d never fully escaped—she’d more than faced her ghosts. She’d accepted them.

Razor had helped her do that simply by being the guy she couldn’t chase away. And in all things, he’d been nothing but gentle. The gift of his love was something she’d never thought to reach for, but something she’d cherish as long as he let her.

She didn’t know what came next. A lifelong commitment seemed crazy—seemed beyond crazy. But in looking at his calming face, she wasn’t afraid. The only thing she had to fear was the possibility he didn’t find the future as optimistic as she did.

Ginny swallowed hard and met his probing eyes. The light hit his scar in such a way it seemed to cast a shadow. “So…”

He nodded. “So.”

“You…you claimed me.”

“Seems that way.”

“How do you feel about that?”

He took a step closer, his eyes darkening just a hair. “How do
you
feel about it?”

“Razor—”

“No, this is important. I need to know, Ginny.”

“And I don’t?”

He shrugged. “I know how I feel about you.”

She released a trembling breath, her hands grasping the stage’s edge. “You love me,” she said. Then again, softer. “Still? You still love me?”

Razor frowned. “What do you mean, still?”

“I mean…you didn’t know what you were doing. When you…when the mate-thing happened. If you didn’t mean it—”

“Didn’t mean what? Didn’t mean that you’re mine? That I love you? Do you think those words mean nothing to me?”

“No, that’s not what I said—”

“Then spell it out for me.”

“Dammit, I would if you’d let me get a word in!” A hot shard of anger slithered down her spine and she grabbed it with both hands. Amidst all this uncertainty, the emotion she was most accustomed to expressing seemed the safest option. “I know what you said. I know you mean it. But meaning it and meaning
forever
are two different things.”

He took another heated step forward, his dark gaze pulling her in. “Not to me,” he growled. “I’m yours, Ginny. Fuck if I know how it happened—or understand half the things Aria said—but I am. The only thing that matters to me is that you’re in my life—right here in my life. When I claimed you last night, I meant forever, even without knowing
it
meant forever. That hasn’t changed, no matter what.”

Her vision blurred. Shit, she was so sick of this crying crap. “You mean it.”

“One of these days, you’re going to have to take me at my word.”

“No, you really mean it. Me, as I am. The shit in the past—”

“We both have shit in the past,” Razor countered. “And I’m tired of living in it. The future is so much more interesting.”

She nodded, her eyes falling to his lips. “It is.”

“So long as you’re in it.” He sighed, then looked away. “I can’t promise it’ll be fun. I still have most of the packs this side of the Mason-Dixon line looking to skin me alive for what happened to Natalie. And then the hunters… I’m guessing my family won’t let me live happily ever after.” Razor paused. “But I’ve lived in fear of them…of
myself
…too goddamn long.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I killed a girl, Ginny. For all I know, being afraid of that side of myself has kept me alive.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “For all you know, that girl you killed would’ve done worse to you. So what happens with you and other werewolves and your psychotic family members and whatever else doesn’t matter.” Ginny tensed and briefly broke her gaze away, drew in a fortifying breath, then looked back. “I’ve already gone through the worst thing in my life. Whatever comes next will be a cakewalk.”

Hope flickered behind Razor’s beautiful eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Her heart thundered so loud she was sure it would dance right out of her chest. “So long as…you’re with me.”

The next second, his mouth was on hers, Razor’s hands were on her, and the world around them dissolved into a sea of color.

He was right. He’d been right since the beginning. The past didn’t matter a damn anymore. Not when she held the keys to the future.

And come hell or high water, Razor would be at her side. It wasn’t something she understood so much as trusted.

That, to her, was all that mattered.

The first time he’d seen her, her wavy brown hair had been pulled into a sloppy ponytail. Her outfit had consisted of a pair of ripped jeans with various food stains, a greasy blue shirt, a Trixie’s apron she hadn’t bothered to shed before leaving work and a red hat that cast a shadow over her tired eyes. Ginny had looked every part a mess, and she hadn’t seemed keen on changing it. Razor recalled that night as the one that had changed his life. He might not have realized it at the time, but he sure as hell had known he kept staring at her for a reason. Every inch of her had screamed exhaustion and distance. She might have wandered willingly into Electric Panther, but she wasn’t there to make friends.

Tonight, Ginny stood on stage. Her hair hung loose, soft wisps of brown curling around her face, neck and shoulders. The food-stained shirt had been exchanged for a form-fitting blue camisole, her torn jeans traded for sleek, satiny black gauchos. She didn’t wear much makeup, but what she had applied made her eyes seem darker, more seductive. Her lips were colored a burgundy red, which contrasted against her alabaster skin in ways that spoke directly to his cock.

The past ten months had been nothing short of amazing, but it was only when Razor saw Ginny on stage that he realized just how much things had changed. How she had taken charge of her life, reclaimed herself.

On occasion, the phantoms from her past would catch up with her, but those times were few and far between and seemed to annoy her more than anything. As though her inability to completely dodge old wounds was a personal failure rather than proof of her humanity. Her counselor was helping her with exercises that would hopefully discourage her from being too hard on herself. Healing, after all, was a steady process. It wasn’t something one just shook off with a smile and a cocktail of antidepressants.

This was one of the ways she had decided to reclaim herself. Taking the stage. Putting herself in the limelight rather than burying herself in the shadows and hoping no one noticed. It had taken a couple months before she looked like she belonged up there, but now she handled the crowds with ease and grace, if not a few lingering nerves. And Razor loved watching her. Loved listening to her. She had an untrained voice but a natural ear, and when she took the mic, she sounded like a goddess.

To him, at least. Anyone else didn’t count.

On stage, Ginny stepped back from the microphone and curtsied as the crowd broke out into modest applause. The smile that brightened her face could have made the stars weep.

“Thanks,” she said, placing a hand on her throat. “I’m getting better, I think. Anyway, I just wanted to thank everyone here. This last year has been…” She raised her gaze to Razor’s, her smile turning intimate and familiar. “Amazing. And I just wanted to…well…I won’t hold up the band very long.”