Something’s stuck. I keep watching him. The rhythm of his breath turns uneven.
“Let me help you choose.” I seize his shirt collar and pull him to kiss me.
Our mouths meet, and his shyness dissolves. His arms snap me tight against him like a trap. The combination of his hands, lips, and tongue sends an urgent heat rippling through me, obliterating all thoughts but
must have
and
now
.
Shane presses me against the side of the bed while his hands roam down to my hips. With no effort, he lifts me onto the bed, where I’m crushed beneath his body. Our breath comes loud and fast against each other’s mouths. The crowd on the CD applauds again.
His hand in my hair, he pulls my head to the side. His mouth moves to my neck, and I stiffen. How far will he take this vampire fantasy? His teeth slide against my skin, making me shiver, then travel down my shoulder.
I slip my hands under his shirts and peel them both over his head. He tosses them away, then unbuttons my top quickly, without fumbling. I stare up into his eyes, which have darkened in the low light. The confusion in them has vanished.
I pull him close. His flesh presses cool against mine, like an evening breeze. The music pulses around us, and I feel each pluck of guitar strings as if they were my own nerves.
Shane draws back a few inches and watches me closely as he runs a finger down over my rib cage, toward the top of my skirt.
“Ciara.” From his lips my name sounds like a hiss. “Tell me what you want.”
I slide my fingers through his soft hair and cup his jaw in both hands. “I want you to make me scream.”
The rest of my clothes disappear, with maneuvers so deft they seem to slip off of their own will. I hold my breath and watch his mouth descend on me.
No teasing, no tempting, no taunting—he knows what I need and that I need it yesterday. As I ride one crescendo after another, my voice hits notes I thought were beyond my register. I yank the sheets loose from the mattress and wish for some other anchor to grab on this endless roller coaster, and then—
Pain.
My scream cuts off as my breath stops. Something bit me. My first thought, which lasts about a quarter of a second, is that someone put a scorpion into my bed. My next thought—another third of a second—is that I should warn Shane.
The pain spikes deeper into my thigh. I try to pull away, but his hand is holding me hard to his mouth, and that’s when I realize—
“No!”
My free foot kicks him hard in the head. As he jumps away, his teeth tear at my flesh.
I slide back toward the wall and feel a thick, warm liquid on my thigh. “
What did you do
?”
Shane’s face looms in the lamplight. Blood drips from his lips, which part to reveal a set of fangs that—
Fangs.
All my muscles seize into stillness. My mouth opens but emits no sound.
“Let me drink you,” he growls, eyes glazing like a junkie’s. “No one will see the mark there.”
A second wave of pain turns my fear into blind, invincible wrath. “That fucking hurt! Get out!”
“Please ...” Shane crawls up the bed over my legs. “It’s so good, the way you taste when you—”
“No!” I whack him hard across the face.
In a pounce faster than I can see, he grabs my arms and pins me to the bed beneath him.
His face hovers an inch from mine, jaw trembling and nostrils flaring. “That. Doesn’t. Help.”
Stupid, stupid—I just provoked a wild animal. My brain flails for the rules of dealing with aggressive dogs. It’s the only reference I have, but my life depends on it.
I force my body to stop struggling. My gaze goes beyond him, breaking eye contact.
I am not prey, I tell myself. I am not prey.
Shane’s breath rasps against my skin. His hair drapes in tangles over his eyes, but I can feel them burn into me. His hands shake as they tighten on my arms.
I stare through the ceiling and try to will my heartbeat to slow. A drop of something warm hits my upper lip, and I hold back a whimper as I
“Let me help you choose.” I seize his shirt collar and pull him to kiss me.
Our mouths meet, and his shyness dissolves. His arms snap me tight against him like a trap. The combination of his hands, lips, and tongue sends an urgent heat rippling through me, obliterating all thoughts but
must have
and
now
.
Shane presses me against the side of the bed while his hands roam down to my hips. With no effort, he lifts me onto the bed, where I’m crushed beneath his body. Our breath comes loud and fast against each other’s mouths. The crowd on the CD applauds again.
His hand in my hair, he pulls my head to the side. His mouth moves to my neck, and I stiffen. How far will he take this vampire fantasy? His teeth slide against my skin, making me shiver, then travel down my shoulder.
I slip my hands under his shirts and peel them both over his head. He tosses them away, then unbuttons my top quickly, without fumbling. I stare up into his eyes, which have darkened in the low light. The confusion in them has vanished.
I pull him close. His flesh presses cool against mine, like an evening breeze. The music pulses around us, and I feel each pluck of guitar strings as if they were my own nerves.
Shane draws back a few inches and watches me closely as he runs a finger down over my rib cage, toward the top of my skirt.
“Ciara.” From his lips my name sounds like a hiss. “Tell me what you want.”
I slide my fingers through his soft hair and cup his jaw in both hands. “I want you to make me scream.”
The rest of my clothes disappear, with maneuvers so deft they seem to slip off of their own will. I hold my breath and watch his mouth descend on me.
No teasing, no tempting, no taunting—he knows what I need and that I need it yesterday. As I ride one crescendo after another, my voice hits notes I thought were beyond my register. I yank the sheets loose from the mattress and wish for some other anchor to grab on this endless roller coaster, and then—
Pain.
My scream cuts off as my breath stops. Something bit me. My first thought, which lasts about a quarter of a second, is that someone put a scorpion into my bed. My next thought—another third of a second—is that I should warn Shane.
The pain spikes deeper into my thigh. I try to pull away, but his hand is holding me hard to his mouth, and that’s when I realize—
“No!”
My free foot kicks him hard in the head. As he jumps away, his teeth tear at my flesh.
I slide back toward the wall and feel a thick, warm liquid on my thigh. “
What did you do
?”
Shane’s face looms in the lamplight. Blood drips from his lips, which part to reveal a set of fangs that—
Fangs.
All my muscles seize into stillness. My mouth opens but emits no sound.
“Let me drink you,” he growls, eyes glazing like a junkie’s. “No one will see the mark there.”
A second wave of pain turns my fear into blind, invincible wrath. “That fucking hurt! Get out!”
“Please ...” Shane crawls up the bed over my legs. “It’s so good, the way you taste when you—”
“No!” I whack him hard across the face.
In a pounce faster than I can see, he grabs my arms and pins me to the bed beneath him.
His face hovers an inch from mine, jaw trembling and nostrils flaring. “That. Doesn’t. Help.”
Stupid, stupid—I just provoked a wild animal. My brain flails for the rules of dealing with aggressive dogs. It’s the only reference I have, but my life depends on it.
I force my body to stop struggling. My gaze goes beyond him, breaking eye contact.
I am not prey, I tell myself. I am not prey.
Shane’s breath rasps against my skin. His hair drapes in tangles over his eyes, but I can feel them burn into me. His hands shake as they tighten on my arms.
I stare through the ceiling and try to will my heartbeat to slow. A drop of something warm hits my upper lip, and I hold back a whimper as I
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