Chapter One
Marcy moved, the sway of her hips calling to Kit as he watched from the sidelines. Strobe lights flashed and heavy, beat-intensive music pulsed around him. The smell of sweat soaked bodies and alcohol filled Kit’s head. He was used to it. Blocking out the unwanted was a trick he’d mastered long ago.
The club was crowded, more so than normal for a Friday night, and Kit wondered how many men would try to go home with Marcy tonight.
Try being the operative word there.
He’d break any man who thought to touch what he’d found several months prior. When the free-spirited nymph before him had first made her way into his club, he knew she was the one for him. He could still remember the smell of her—woody notes blended with the scent of ocean air—assailing him, making him weak in the knees. She’d demanded his attention by simply appearing. When she’d glanced across the club at him, Kit had thought for sure his heart had stopped beating for a fraction of a second. The moment the corners of her full lips curved into a slight smile, he knew he was hooked, and that was dangerous for a man like him.
Deadly even.
Kit stared at her, wanting desperately to go to her but knowing he shouldn’t. While she was more than legal, she was too young for him. He snorted. Nearly the entire club was. Only a handful of the patrons were immortals, such as he. Of those, only two were over a century—Kit included. The rest were humans, out for a good time.
It was easy to hide among them. He could even be “open” with what he was, not that they’d actually believe him. It was hard to swallow the idea immortals existed among them. A vampire, pretending to be a human, pretending to be a vampire. No one would really bite on the truth.
Kit knew better than to get caught up with a human, but he couldn’t help himself. While hiding among them was easy enough, getting involved with one was another matter altogether. Certain aspects of his life would be hard to hide and to play off as anything other than what they were, side effects of his condition.
He clucked his tongue against his cheek, watching Marcy as she danced. Her hair, currently blond on the roots and pink halfway down, changed colors as often as her mood. Tonight she wore a barely there, bright pink halter top with leather bindings around it and a matching black leather miniskirt. The thigh-high, pink plaid boots she wore teased his mind with thoughts of just how long her legs were. Kit especially liked the way Marcy had black makeup, liner and eye shadow smudged around her eyes, drawing attention to them and giving them mystique and lure. Her heart-shaped face gave her an innocent appearance but the way she moved her hips said otherwise.
Damn, she is entirely too fuckable for her own good.
His cock throbbed, wanting to be free of his leather pants and sinking deep into Marcy. He wanted those smoky blue eyes staring up at him as he eased his shaft into her—wanted to see her expression as the barbells of his frenum ladder, on the lower side of his penis, slid along her sweet spot. They were evenly spaced, six in all. He’d had the set of piercings on his cock done to increase sensation for his bed partners. Plus, he kind of got off on the pain of having the piercing done. Too bad it was fleeting.
Kit licked his lower lip, paying special attention to the silver hoops to the right. He could almost taste Marcy’s sweet cream on his tongue. She’d given him a small sample, a week after her arrival. They’d found themselves thrown together and one thing led to another. The next thing Kit knew, he was kissing her passionately with his hand inching up the tiny skirt she’d worn. He’d raked his teeth over her bare skin, accidently nicking her and causing her to bleed. He’d tasted her blood that night and he’d never been the same. The minute he’d actually made contact with her heated core, Marcy had pulled away, ending their moment of bliss.
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