Authors: Lydia Michaels
“Delilah, get your bag
please. We have other stops to make.”
She quickly moved to
pick up her bag and headed toward the exit. Christian leaned close to Meghan
and again whispered, “I am sorry you had to see that. I am also sorry you found
it necessary to be such a cruel child. All you will remember of us is that we
came, got out of Delilah’s lease, and the fact that you will never be as
beautiful as her.”
He turned and followed
Delilah out to the car.
As soon as she had the
engine started she threw the car into reverse. Tires squealed as she backed out
of the small drive and sped onto the road. They drove for several minutes in
absolute silence and then Delilah abruptly jerked the wheel and pulled the car
off the road.
Gravel sprayed against
the undercarriage of the car as she hit the brakes.
“What the fuck just
happened?”
she shrilled. His gaze was drawn to her fluttering pulse. He
could hear the rapid thudding of her heartbeat.
Christian breathed
deeply. “I did not care for the way he spoke to you.”
Her fingers flexed on
the wheel. “Christian…that…you just can’t do that to people. What if they’re
calling the cops right now? You can’t go to jail. I don’t know how to do this
vampyre shit without you! I need you.”
His gaze jerked to hers.
“I need you too.”
“You—”
Whatever she had been
about to say cut off. A pulse of electricity sizzled between them in the small
car. She stared into his eyes, a torrent of emotion showing in her own. She
shook her head. “You said you loved me,” she finally whispered.
He nodded. “I do love
you, Delilah. I have for a while now. I cannot tolerate another speaking to you
in such a disrespectful manner or anyone hurting your feelings. I find
it…abhorrent. I am sorry for my behavior back there. I did not think. I only…reacted.”
“You said you love me.”
He frowned. Did she not
believe him? “You are my mate.”
“But I’m not a very good
mate.”
“I would want no other
female to be my mate, Delilah. Only you.”
“Only me,” she said
quietly to herself, nodding.
Her hand went to the
keys hanging from the ignition and twisted. The car engine silenced. She stared
out the windshield for a few seconds and Christian worried he had said
something wrong. Suddenly she turned, climbed over the center armrest, and onto
his lap.
Christian caught her in
his arms as her mouth slammed down over his. The space was cramped and he had
nowhere to stretch his legs. She fit her little body on top of his, straddling
his thighs as she yanked at the collar of his shirt. Her tongue rasped against
his.
His fingers squeezed at
her hips and he moaned. Arousal punched through him. Her cool fingertips
pressed into the flesh of his chest where she had undone his shirt.
“Delilah…” he said
against her mouth.
“No more talking,” she
said as she kissed his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his throat.
Her weight settled over
him and she rocked. His cock pressed toward her sex. He wanted to rip off their
clothing and pin her beneath him, but there wasn’t room.
With fumbling fingers
she reached for the waist of his pants. He lifted her and quickly brushed her
hand out of the way. The moment he freed himself her petite hand wrapped
tightly around his cock. He groaned and she sighed.
“I need you inside of
me, Christian. Now.”
Her dress left her
thighs accessible. His palms glided over her soft skin as his thumbs came in
contact with the lace of her panties. One swipe of his nail and the fabric fell
away. She guided him to her heat. The tip of his cock swelled as it pressed
past her folds and then he was engulfed in a fist of heated honey. He sighed
and she moaned.
Her teeth nibbled at his
jaw as he arched off the seat, driving up into her. She sank down on him,
taking him over and over. Her cries were frantic, matching each thrust. Her
hands moved urgently over him, pulling at his clothing and fisting in his hair.
Her mouth teased over every bit of exposed flesh she could find.
Her body rode him hard
and fast. He held her, guiding her up and down. The air in the car grew damp
and humid, fogging up the glass. He needed more of her.
Yanking at the sleeves
of her dress, he drew it low on her torso. Her unbound breasts swayed as she
bounced, the twin rings dangling from her nipples glinted in the sunlight. He
leaned in and pulled one tight bud into his mouth.
“Oh, God, Christian,
Yes!”
He sucked hard,
switching from one nipple to the next. His tongue curled around the metal ring
and tugged. Her sex clamped around him and he pumped harder. “I want to bite
you, Delilah.”
“Do it!”
His mouth kissed to the
side of her breast, licking at the soft curve. His jaw opened and he sunk his
teeth into her supple flesh. She screamed and her sex contracted tightly as she
pulsed around his cock. Her head fell back and she cried out her release.
Hot, delicious blood
flooded his mouth, rushing down his throat. She tasted unlike any other. She
was decadent, spicy, rich, sexy…
Delilah!
He thrust into her as he
drank his fill, her orgasm unending. He held her tight and reveled at finally
having permission to feed from his mate. Kissing his mark, he licked from her
breasts to her shoulders to her delicate neck.
Her hand knotted in his
hair. She yanked his head to the side and the punch of her tiny fangs through
his flesh sent a thousand watts of pleasure racing from the base of his spine
out in every direction. His release pelted through him with the force of a
hurricane and he filled her.
She moaned over his
flesh as she drank from him. His hips continued to thrust. His cock pulsed and
pulsed but never wilted. He wanted to live inside of her, possess her like no
other ever had. She was his mate.
Mine!
He would never think of
her as anything other than
mine!
Chapter Eleven
Delilah wasn’t sure what
was happening to her. She hated herself earlier for falling into her old
insecurities and trying to flaunt Christian in front of that bitch Meghan. She
and Meghan had always shared a mutual dislike. When Christian had rejected her
pathetic flirting, Delilah wanted to crawl under a rock and die. Then he had
turned and said all those wonderful things about how pretty she was and how
he…loved her.
No one had ever loved
her before, other than her grandparents. She wasn’t sure he was telling the
truth. Christian didn’t lie, but maybe he was confused, infatuated, or it was
just some vampyre thing messing with his head—something to do with mates,
maybe. Regardless, the moment he said the words, something needy and neglected
receded inside of her and she wanted to throw him to the ground and do very,
very
un-Amish things to him.
Then he attacked Mr.
McLeay for calling her a trollop. She’d never been so scared. Christian didn’t
lose his cool like that. Ever. But he lost it then and she, again, wanted to
throw him to the ground and rape his cute little Amish ass.
Sure, it was juvenile to
get a rush from such barbaric possessiveness. It was wrong to care what her
high school rival thought of her recent booty call. Yet, Delilah did.
No one had ever cared
enough to go to bat for her. Her grandparents had cared, but they were old and
sweet and she didn’t like to trouble them with her issues, especially toward
the end when she was more their caretaker than they were hers. But Christian
cared.
He cared a lot. He…
loved
her.
They’d gone to pay the
balances off at all her utility companies and set a shut off date for the end
of the month. They’d swung by Odd Lots and picked up a ton of boxes and packing
peanuts and bubble wrap along with some munchies. They did all this without
mentioning what happened in the car after leaving her landlord’s office.
He’d fed from her and
she’d liked it. More shocking, she fed from him and couldn’t stop thinking
about when she could do it again. Was it something vampyres did whenever they
made love? Was it more a meal sort of thing based on hunger? Could she drink
too much of Christian’s blood? Could a vampyre become anemic?
There was something so
incredibly different about feeding from him when they were fucking compared to
when he simply offered his neck like he had the other day.
His blood was robust,
flavorful, and potent. It must be like doing a line of speed laced with X, but
he was way better than any drug. He was addicting and she couldn’t stop
thinking about it. She wanted more.
“Is something wrong?”
She turned from the box
of ink she was carefully packing and faced Christian. “What?”
“You moaned. Is something
the matter?”
No, not if you ask
Hannibal Lector.
“I’m fine. I was just thinking.” She turned back to swathing the
vials of ink in the bubble wrap sure her cheeks were blushing.
“What were you thinking,
pintura
?” There was something suggestive in the way he asked the
question, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Smart ass.
He chuckled and went
back to rolling up the artwork on the walls and carefully placing it in storage
tubes.
A while later, Delilah
was packing up the piercing room. This was the first place they hooked up. Her
skin warmed every time she glanced at the chair. Her hand picked up the gage
gun a plopped it in the box. She scooped up a handful of sterilized needles and
barbells and stilled. “Christian?”
“Yes?” He was moving
furniture and sounded preoccupied.
“Come’ere.”
A minute later he
stepped into the small room. His sleeves were rolled back and his hair was
slightly mussed. He looked delicious. “Did you need something?”
“Did you know my tattoos
are fading?” she asked still sitting on the white linoleum floor.
He looked down. He had
noticed. “I am sorry, Delilah. I did not know that would happen.”
She shrugged sadly. “Are
you glad?”
His brow knit. “Why
would I be glad? I like the way you look. I find them…interesting, beautiful, a
part of you.”
Good answer.
“What about my
piercings? Do you like them?”
A red flush crept up his
neck and he turned. “They are nice too.”
“Nice?”
“Very.”
“Do you think they’re
sexy?”
The flush on his neck
passed the curve of his jaw.
Cute little blushing vampyre.
“Yes,” he rasped.
“I think piercings are
sexy too.”
He faced her and there
was a moment of charged energy. It wasn’t sexual tension. It wasn’t challenge.
It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t anything she had a name for.
“Will you pierce me?” he
asked softly.
Her belly flipped.
“Would you want me to? You don’t have to do it just because I think it’s hot.
I’m pretty sure your hot ranking is tight even without piercings.”
“I want to be everything
you find…sexy.”
Her body clenched. Her
opinion really did matter to him. “Will you still think I’m pretty after all my
tattoos fade?”
He frowned. “You will be
pretty to me no matter what. You are beautiful, Delilah. You must know that.”
She didn’t see herself
that way, but whatever. If he did, that was all that mattered. “I think you’re
beautiful too, Christian—with or without piercings. I just thought it would be
fun.”
He was silent for a
moment. “Should I sit here?”
Her mouth curved. She
nodded and bit into her lower lip.
Good times! Corrupting the Amish elder!
He sat in the chair
they’d had sex on only a week ago and deliberately undid his shirt. She watched
as he unveiled one abdominal muscle then the next, and the next, and they just
kept coming. He was the most perfect man she had ever laid eyes on.
She swallowed. “Good.”
Her voice had become little more than a whisper.
She moved to the box of
latex gloves and stilled. This was her mate. They shared blood. He was
immortal. Ignoring the gloves she went to the counter and unpackaged the
needle, selecting a medium gage barbell.
Christian studied her as
she held up the piece. Once she had everything ready she stepped close.
“Ready?”
His gaze never left her
face. He nodded. Leaning over the arm of the chair, she sucked one flat nipple
into her mouth. He moaned and his back arched. She sucked until the tip pulled
into a tight point. Standing back she admired her work.
Christian was breathing
heavily and watching her. She glanced at his lap and saw he was growing
aroused. His hands gripped the arms of the chair. She grabbed her pen and
marked two dots then lined up his flesh with the tip of the needle. She pressed
the needle through, following with the barbell.
Breath rushed through
Christian’s teeth, but he didn’t twitch or vocalize a sound.
“Mmmm,” Delilah purred,
screwing on the ball and admiring her work.
She traced a finger down
his hard stomach and his muscles twitched. “Should I do the other one?”
He nodded intently.
She opened another
sterile needle and barbell. Repeating the process of getting his nipple hard
didn’t take much work. He was highly aroused and she realized she could
actually scent the strong musk of his arousal filling the room. It was
affecting her very much.
Lining up the needle she
punched the tip through his nipple. Again, he didn’t flinch. He was breathing
hard and his eyes were dilated. She placed the remaining items on the silver
tray and gave his nipple a flick.
Christian’s hand shot
out and gripped her by the back of the head. He pulled her down to him roughly
and sealed his mouth over hers. He stole her breath as his tongue seared past
her lips and plunged into her mouth. Her fingers curled under the open hem of
his shirt and around his waist.
The bell from the front
door tinkled and they stilled. He hesitantly eased his grip in her hair. She
leaned back.
“That’s my client,” she
whispered.
“I’ll be out in a
minute. I need…” His breath beat across her lips. “I need to pull myself
together.”
She nodded and slowly
climbed down from where she was hanging over him. Her breasts were heavy and
her nipples pressed like twin darts through the thin fabric of her dress. She
took a deep breath and tried to cool her cheeks. “This shouldn’t take long.”
She cleared her throat
and left Christian to dress. In the front of the shop her client waited with
his back to her as he eyed the partially packed boxes by the door.
“Mr. Maddox?”
He turned. Mr. Maddox
was a very handsome man. He was tall and had long wavy brown hair to his
shoulders. There was something intense about him. His body already showed
markings of some work and she was sad she would never have the chance to see
all of his ink. He was a big male, but in a truly model sense. His eyes were
sharp and a vibrant shade of blue that bordered on almost being violet.
“Ms. Starling. I see you
weren’t kidding about moving.”
“No. I apologize again
for having to cancel on you. I didn’t expect my life to take the turn it’s
taken in the last few days.”
His head tilted slightly
and he breathed in a slow breath through his nose. His brow twitched. “Indeed.”
“I, uh, have a check for
you. I just didn’t know who to make it out to.”
She moved to the
register and pulled out her checkbook, finding the partially filled out check
and a pen, she looked to him for instruction.
His expression was
pleasant, but his eyes slightly narrowed. “You may make the check out to
Cerberus Maddox the sixth.”
“That’s a mouthful,” she
said. “You’re gonna have to spell that for me.”
“Cer is just fine.
C-E-R.”
She endorsed the check
and tore it from the book. Her neck prickled as she felt Christian step into
the room.
Something sent a chill
down her spine and she frowned. Mr. Maddox stepped forward and took the check
from her hand slowly, his fingers gently brushing with hers. Christian growled
and took a threatening step forward.
Mr. Maddox chuckled and
pulled his hand back. “Friend of yours?” he inquired, jerking his chin toward
Christian who had placed a possessive hand around her hip.
Why don’t you just pee
around my shoes?
Make him leave,
pintura.
Don’t be rude.
“This is my friend
Christian Schrock,” she introduced.
Mr. Maddox’s brow
lifted. “Schrock? That’s a name you do not hear often around these parts.”
“He’s from Lancaster.”
She winced as Christian’s hand tightened almost to the point of pain on her
hip.
Ooooooouuuuch.
She knew he heard her
warning thought when he relaxed his grip.
The man looked at
Christian for a long moment. Christian stiffened and took a jerking step back.
What the fuck was going on?
“I think it is time for
you to leave, Mr. Maddox,” Christian said with an edge to his voice she never
heard him use before.
“Indeed. I believe
you’re right, Christian.” Mr. Maddox nodded to her. “It was a…
pleasure
doing
business with you Ms. Starling. I have no doubt our paths will cross again.”
And with that he turned and left.
Delilah turned on Christian.
“What the hell was that?”
“Did you not sense it?”
“Sense what? You hurt my
hip, Christian.”
His vision seemed to
clear, his scowl replaced with concern. “I am sorry, Delilah. I didn’t mean to.
He was…one of us.”
“What?”
“You’re client. He was
immortal.”
Her mouth opened to tell
him that was ridiculous, but then she stilled. “Are you serious? But he wasn’t
Amish.”
“I told you, all
immortals are not Amish.”
“Well, how come his
tattoos aren’t faded?”
He frowned. “We must go,
Delilah. We need to finish here.” He turned and began packing up more of her
things.
She frowned. “Do you
think he gets them touched up every now and again?”
“Delilah,” Christian
snapped and she jumped. “We need to leave this place. Please, start packing.”
She gave him a snide
look. “Fine, Bossy Pants. I was just wondering.”
They had the shop packed
up by nightfall. It was amazing how much faster her life broke down compared to
the time it took to build it up to where she thought she wanted it to be.
Christian remained quiet
for the remainder of the packing. She caught him scowling a lot and wondered
what had set him off about Mr. Maddox.