Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4) (19 page)

She gave a swift shake of her head. “No one knows about me. You can’t.”

“You’ve fed before, surely—”

“Kinky always brought the donors. He would feed from one, then drain enough from the other into a glass, telling them he was saving it for later.”

Draven’s brows drew together. “He could have hypnotized them into forgetting about you.”

Brea took a shallow breath. “He didn’t want to take the chance something might jog their memory about me.”

“You expect me to cut one of them?” He shuddered. “Bring the blood to you?”

“You cannot heal their wounds.” She paused, her blue eyes holding his. “
You
could feed me.”

He chuckled, the sound belying his nerves. “Men can’t be donors.”

“Says who?”

“The Sons make the rules. I abide by them and enforce them.”

“You’re not a Son, nor am I.”

“I’m not so sure I can, Brea.” Another shiver passed through him. “I’m squeamish around blood.”

She smiled, the sight so sweet that Draven was having trouble holding his ground. He wanted to see her nourished, give her blood, but he didn’t want to lose his man card doing it. For damn sure he’d pass out at her feet. The only time he had given blood in his life, they had to scrape his sorry ass off the sterile flooring.

She beckoned him forward. Draven grimaced, rubbing his neck.
Fuck.
Not only was he squeamish, he truly was scared shitless of those fangs. For that reason, he had stayed away when the Sons fed, telling himself he was respecting their privacy. When in truth, vampires scared the bejesus out of him, far worse than any one of the Devils.

“Please, Draven.” Brea’s plea cut straight to his heart. She attempted to wet her overly dry lips with her tongue.

It was that one word,
“Please,”
that had him moving forward. He couldn’t deny her. Draven forced his leaden feet to move in her direction. He kept his gaze to the floor, afraid to look upon her as she morphed into vampire form. He didn’t want to taint the beautiful vision of her he kept stored in his mind. Brea had quickly become very special to him, and he wanted far more from her than he dare ask. She had belonged to Joseph, and one day another vampire would claim her. It was the way of their kind. Unmated females, due to the death of their mates, were to be claimed by another male. Without women vampires, there would be no male true bloods born. For that reason alone, the mates were to be cherished.

He slowly lowered to his knees just before the sofa.
Stop being a pussy
.
Hell, he had faced guns, big ass guns, and men who weren’t afraid to use them. Tipping his head, Draven pulled his black hair back so she’d have access to his carotid. His blood pumped through his veins, pounded in his ears. Surely, she could scent his fear.

How many times had he assured new donors how easy and painless it was to feed a vampire, when he had never done so himself?

“Draven.” Her voice was thick with her fangs.

Brea whispered his name again, her fingers softly stroking the flesh of his neck, just beneath his ear. Damn, but it felt like a lover’s caress. Not that he hadn’t thought about it with her. Hell, no. He had dreamed about it in living color. He would’ve tried getting into her pants days ago, had she not been a vampire,

Had she not been a Gotti.

Had her godfather not been Raúl Trevino Caballero.

So much about her terrified him.

And yet her very essence called to him.

His name whispered from her lips again, before he finally had the courage to give her his gaze. Her blue eyes had transformed into twin black, glassy marbles, beautiful and mesmerizing. His reflection, full of wonder and terror, stared back at him. Her cheeks had become sunken, her brows more prominent. Though Draven had fully expected to be appalled by the transformation, he pleasantly found the exact opposite to be true.

He was enthralled, taken by her beauty.

His breath stuck in his throat when she opened her mouth and two long, razor sharp fangs jutted from her gums. Brea’s fingers threaded through his hair, gently fisting it and holding his head steady. The inhuman-like strength he felt in her grasp told him he couldn’t have made a mad dash for the door if he tried.

Her breath fanned his throat, causing a shiver to pass his spine and his groin to harden. The razor-sharp points of her fangs scraped his flesh mere seconds before the points punctured his skin and sank gums deep. A brief moment of pain quickly replaced with an ecstasy not found in any drug he had ever ingested. His dick ached with the need to rip her clothes from her body and bury himself deeply. Screw ethics and his promise not to touch her until her memory of Joseph had washed away. He desired her more than he had ever another human being.

She isn’t human
, he reminded himself.

She was a vampire, one capable of ripping out his heart in more ways than one.

Draven slipped his hands slowly up the inside of her thighs, needing to see if Brea also hungered for him. Surely, he wasn’t alone in his desire. Just as he reached nirvana, cupping her sex through her leggings, she withdrew her fangs with a soft pop, licked the twin holes, then retreated from his touch.

Draven’s face heated, embarrassed for his reaction and desire to take something not offered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I had no right.”

Standing, he put distance between them. His erection still plagued the front of his now too tight jeans. The death chill he witnessed in her skin upon her arrival slowly left, replaced by a now warmer glow. Her fangs retreated into her gums and her features softened. Gone was the monster he once feared, only to realize her vampire form wasn’t a horror at all. On the contrary, he found her more beautiful if that were possible.

Draven ground his teeth, disgusted with himself for trying to take advantage of Brea, realizing now how his donors must feel, especially those nourishing the mated ones. The sexual urges brought on by feeding them could never be satisfied. It was no wonder the Sons didn’t want their mates feeding from male donors. The men would no doubt want to drain the males for taking such liberties, just as Draven had with Brea.

“Draven, there is no need to apologize.”

He held her sky-blue gaze. “I damn near assaulted you, Brea. That deserves an apology.”

“I felt it too, you know. We aren’t immune.”

“Then why—”

“Kinky was my whole life.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “He held my heart. He still does. Having sex with you won’t change that.”

He ran a hand through his hair. Fuck, he felt like a heel. “I don’t suppose.”

“I feel the attraction too. But Kinky aside, you and I are never going to happen.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to break your heart. And besides, you’re human. Only vampires mate with vampires. Are you ready to make that transformation?”

His shock surely registered on his face.

“I didn’t think so.”

Draven took a shaky breath, knowing he had to deny his hunger for Brea and keep his dick to himself. She was correct about one thing. When she mated with another, it would break his heart. “What will you do?”

“When my family is no longer a threat, I’ll present myself to Hawk. He’ll choose a suitable mate for me.”

“A man you don’t love?”

She shrugged. “Who says I won’t grow to love him? I’m tired of the secret. The Sons of Sangue need to know about me. I’ll be a reminder of Kinky for them. His memory will stay alive through me. It’s the least I can do for him.”

“Until then?”

“You have a job to finish, Draven. You need to flush out my godfather.”

“You’re giving me permission?”

“You thought because he’s my godfather I would want him protected?” Her gaze filled with anger. “I love my godfather. Make no mistake. But he’s a very bad man, Draven. He needs to be taken down. I can’t excuse his crimes. I may not stand in your way, but I won’t help you find him either.”

“Fair enough, angel.”

Draven walked back over to the sofa and knelt before her. He palmed her cheeks and held her face so close her breath feathered his flesh. She smelled of white musk, a scent that would forever call to him, no matter who’s mate she became.

His gaze dropped to her lips. Not being able to help himself, he leaned forward and kissed her lips softly. Her answering moan told him what he had wanted to know. Even when he wasn’t nourishing her, she desired him too. Brea may not ever be his, but before he gave her to another, he’d make damn sure she never forgot him.

* * *

A dim, single bare bulb, covered by a black wire cage, provided Anton shadows within which to shield his traipse down the hall. He took a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure no one spotted him entering the ladies’ room. Not that he cared one iota what the hell people thought of him. Kimber’s safety was at risk. Thankfully, Bobby had been preoccupied with the little blonde, who had been sitting with Kimber earlier.

Anton’s gums ached with hunger. Blood rushed through his veins. His pulse thrummed in his ears. Having sex in a public restroom wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before. On the contrary, the Sons regularly looked for quick places to appease their need. The problem was, Kimber wasn’t a seasoned donor used to a vampire’s sexual appetites.

Hell no.

Protecting her at all costs should’ve been his first priority, not the erection demanding appeasement. Fucking her in a public place was high on his list of things not to do. And yet, he had been the one to make the outrageous suggestion. No way he could talk his dick out of heading for the restroom. Anton should be nursing a damn good whiskey and minding his own business. If anything happened to Kimber because he was unable to control his hormones, he’d have no one to blame but himself.

Jesus, turn the fuck around.

The idea Kimber had probably never fucked in public before, and was willing to do so with him, kept his feet planted to the floor just outside the door. He could hear her breathing, nearly feel her heart beat as if it were his own. He could scent her desire through the wood that separated them. His cock ached. His jeans were too damn tight. His little straight-laced librarian waited just beyond the door, and he’d be damned if he’d disappoint her.

Anton suppressed the growth of his fangs by gritting his teeth. The vampire wasn’t far from the surface and taking over. He needed to put a leash on the little devil, at least until he could hypnotize Kimber. She wasn’t ready for the truth. Nor did he think she would ever be.

Turning the rustic doorknob to the ladies’ room, he pushed on the door. The creak of the aged hinges echoed down the empty hall. Even though anyone could easily bust through, locked or not, he flipped the bolt.

His heart skipped a beat. Kimber propped herself against a makeup vanity, her bare legs crossed at the ankles. Nothing but a flimsy white blouse hid her from his view. Damn, all he could think about was wrapping those legs around his waist while he pounded into her.

The lounge area suddenly felt as if it were two sizes too small.

The stalls must’ve been beyond the opened doorway to her right. Nothing more than a vanity and a well-used love seat graced the room — one he had no intention of using. The view from the mirror gracing the wall behind the vanity gave him a peak at her smooth, creamy white ass. Black pants dangled from her fingertips along with a pair of black lace panties.

Blood raced due south, robbing him of coherent thought.

His cock swelled all the more and Anton cursed beneath his breath.

The tail of her blouse hid what his nostrils detected. He’d bet if he slid his fingers between her thighs he’d find her wet. He didn’t need the sense of touch to know. Hell, it tickled his nostrils. Her cheeks flushed. Anton sure hoped no one would be in need of the facilities, because no way in hell was he leaving without taking what she offered.

Kimber licked her lips.

He was hard enough to drive through a fucking concrete wall.

Anton reached down and ran a hand over the front of his jeans, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure. Her gaze heated, following the direction of his hand. Her breath hitched.

Cupping his erection, he asked, “This what you want,
tesoro
?”

Kimber smiled, then tossed her clothing to the floral love seat. An ugly painting hung on the wall above it, reminding him of an old cowboy rodeo. The bull rider hung on with one gloved hand to keep from being bucked off. Anton almost laughed at the parallel. He was about to give Kimber a ride to remember.

The crook of her finger had him moving in her direction. In two long strides, he gripped her waist and pulled her flush. His erection nestled hot between them, earning him a moan from her lips. He’d bet it wouldn’t take her long to reach a climax. Christ, he was a fraction from coming himself.

“Kimber.”

Her warm brown gaze hooded. Her pupils damn near swallowed her irises. He loved seeing the desire he caused in her expression. If she ever found out he had hypnotized her, forgiveness wouldn’t be part of her vocabulary. Their short affair would surely come to an end and he wouldn’t blame her for hating him.