Hunger Embraced (The Hunger Series) (3 page)

I brought my hips up in an effort to claim his fingers more deeply on the next plunge and failed. “Damn it. Please give me more.”

He lowered his head to my breasts, biting my nipples with the blunt edges of his center teeth in response.

Strong fingers clenched my waist when I bucked again. “Please. I can’t take it.”

He sank to his haunches and kissed the insides of both thighs, still driving me crazy with his fingers. When he took them out, he leaned forward, and the tips of his fangs breached the flesh his fingers and thumb had so skillfully teased. I came hard and fast, screaming and thrashing against the hands holding me prisoner on the dresser. My feet drummed on his back. He sucked and licked, feeding on my blood as he plunged his tongue into my hot, tight channel until I almost passed out and slumped against the wall.

He rose in a graceful, fluid movement and cleaned a last trace of blood from his lips. The light reflecting from his irises dimmed and died, and with it the sounds and smells of the ocean receded. A grin of male pride stretched from one cheek to the other.

I knew I looked like a complete hussy, sprawled across the dresser in thigh highs and heels with my legs spread in blatant invitation, but I didn’t care. He could fuck me for the next week non-stop and I’d never once complain.

Those strong hands slid under my knees and hips, cradling me against his chest. The mattress dipped under my weight when he laid me down, careful to recline my head slowly and setting my feet so they didn’t bounce. He slipped my shoes off and covered me with the comforter.

“You should rest.” He picked my clothes up and dodged the discarded articles on the floor between my bed and closet. When he opened the closet door and realized there were no clothes or hangers inside, he folded my suit, taking care with the creases in the arms, and laid them neatly at the foot of the bed. I watched with puzzled interest, drowsy and relaxed from head to toe. He walked to the door before he stopped and clenched his hands once. “Thank you, Miranda.”

“What about you? Don’t you need to…?” I let my gaze settle on his groin and the erection straining his jeans.

“No. This was enough.” He threw his surfer-boy smile over his shoulder at me, the one that had nearly blinded me on the street. “Take a nap. I’ll call your boss.”

The offhand comment should have raised a red flag, but at the moment I was too tired and boneless to care. This had never happened before. Usually vamps fed on my blood while they fucked me. If I’d accepted and used the magic that came with being an Incubi, I’d have fed on the energy released during their orgasm. The last one I’d encountered only took the time to unzip his pants and bend me over the side of the bed before he pounded me with impersonal swiftness, bit my neck from behind, and departed before I stood up from where he’d left me. T.T.B. had fed on blood, but I hadn’t suffered any of the usual overwhelming energy drain from my body. I’d never been given a screaming orgasm and not reciprocated. But T.T.B. looked fine now. Relaxed. Happy.

Where had the magic that called him to the edge of control gone? The magic my body exuded to bring in prey?

What a weird day this was turning out to be.

“What’s your name, T.T.B.?” A yawn escaped my lips.

“Daniel.” He leaned against the doorjamb as my eyelids fluttered closed.

“How’d you know mine?” I mumbled the words into my pillow.

He didn’t answer.

Chapter Two

Something smelled good, but I didn’t open my eyes, not yet. I’d realized pretty early on feeding a super hungry vamp is risky stuff. One time, I’d gotten out of bed too fast and face-planted after tripping over a pair of heels. Normally I heal pretty quickly, but my energy had been low after that particular encounter. I’d been swollen and bruised for the better part of a week down the left side of my cheek and around my eye. Everyone at the office thought I had an abusive boyfriend. Not one of my better looks.

My toes stretched toward the end of the bed, and I grabbed the headboard, using the leverage of yanking on the old cast iron until the metal creaked to get a good long stretch. I inhaled until my diaphragm complained and caught a lingering note of the sea. The salty brine and sunshine mingled with bacon.

Bacon? What the hell? I don’t have any bacon in my fridge. In fact, bacon has to be cooked. And bought. Son of bitch!

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stomped into my kitchen. The space didn’t qualify for the definition of kitchen with the sink, three feet of counter, and apartment-sized fridge and stove crammed into an area smaller than the closet I had growing up. But I don’t cook, so lack of real appliances didn’t matter.

I stopped in the doorway and stared at the tall slab of blood-sucking, panty combusting vampire standing in front of the stove, a spatula in one hand, and the handle of my only frying pan in the other. “What the hell are you doing, T.T.B.?”

He looked over his shoulder at me with a slow grin, and a lock of hair fell over his forehead. “Making you something to eat.”

Our stares locked and something like recognition flew through me. The roiling energy he’d exhibited on the street flared in his eyes momentarily. He blinked and the magic disappeared, shuttered away.

The look left me primed and ready whether I wanted sex or not. My body welcomes any horny vamp within a bangable radius. Doesn’t matter if I’m tired, ill, or uninterested. I’m perfect food. Slick, tight, and accommodating—that’s me. Of course, if I actually fed my own vampiric nature, it’d be a great evolutionary advantage. I wouldn’t have to hunt for food. It would come to me. Although this time the reaction was more than biology. I wanted him all on my own, no magic required. Acknowledging the fact pissed me off more than discovering him getting all domestic and crap.

“Uh-huh. Where’d the bacon come from? And please, explain to me why you are still here!” The volume of my voice increased with every word. My hands shook, and I clenched them into tight fists, fighting the urge to shove him into the living room. He’d gotten what he wanted and should have taken his gorgeous ass out of here. I’d committed an obvious tactical error.

An adult vamp can feed on any number of things depending on their coven—the Blood Suckers, Empaths, Incubi, and thank the gods and goddesses I hadn’t met any Flesh Eaters. Well, maybe I had and they’d been polite enough not to take a bite out of my ass. My body is self-destructive enough to lead me right into a mess I can’t survive, and I have no desire to walk around missing chunks. Goose bumps covered my skin at the thought. Monet’s paintings are cool…as paintings.

I crossed my arms under my breasts and blew a stray lock of hair out of my eyes. Great. Sex hair. A yawn tried to escape, but I resisted the urge and blinked at him. Yawning wouldn’t help my angry, naked, avenging butt-kicker persona. He needed to leave.

T.T.B.’s gaze roved over the pushed up mounds of flesh, settled on my nipples, then traveled down to the juncture of my thighs. I cleared my throat and his attention wandered back up to my face, took in the set of my jaw and eyebrows, then returned to the stove. I didn’t blame him for staring; I wore nothing but thigh highs.

Note to self: Do not bring any more vamps home for quickies and then fall asleep. A dirty alley would be better than this.

“I went to the store. You don’t really have much to eat besides popcorn, jelly beans, and frozen chicken nuggets. Which don’t really qualify as food. Have you ever looked at the ingredients?”

“Let me spell it out for you since you don’t seem to understand how this works. We fuck. You feed. You leave. You don’t stick around playing Sara-fucking-Lee in my kitchen!”

I snatched the bag of jelly beans off the counter, frowning at the lack of weight in my hand. It was half empty.

I was going to stake him. How rude can someone be? Eating half my stash while I took a nap.

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, lips twitching. Of course they were perfect—

full, wide, the bottom protruding in a pout.

Asshole.

A smirk spread his mouth when he caught the thought.

“Is this how you treat all your conquests? If so, you aren’t going to win any popularity contests.” He twisted his body enough to look at me again. “How do you like your eggs?”

“M-m-my conquests? Are you trying to be funny or insulting? Get out of my apartment! And don’t eat anything else on your way out.” I felt a foot stomp coming on but held back. Stomping the ground wasn’t the most mature way to express my displeasure. “And stop staring at my boobs.” I spun around, headed for my bathroom with my now decimated bag of candy, and slammed the door behind me.

“I’ll make scrambled.” His voice drifted through the cheap panel in an amused tone.

I almost ripped the shower curtain off the rod and turned around to give him the finger. Well, at least I had the jelly beans. I tossed the plastic bag to the counter and bent over to peel off my hose; surprise filled me at finding them salvageable. Huh. In fact, there wasn’t a run to be found. My thigh highs were usually the first casualty when I played semi-human buffet.

Strange, the whole day was strange. I comforted myself with the knowledge that once I showered, I would throw him out if he wasn’t gone. Bodily if need be.

I grabbed the jelly beans and took a handful out, gnashing them into submission. Who hangs around after a feed and steals most of the candy? So rude.

I cranked the hot water up as high as possible and ignored the squeak of my irritable faucets.

The water ran cold over my tension-filled shoulders. I emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, wrapped in my old bathrobe. The ratty pink and black plaid killed the avenging goddess look, but I didn’t care. Vampire food and sex queen I may be, but flannel is where it’s at. The soft material didn’t make me think of anything more titillating than cocoa and chocolate chip cookies, and I hoped the effect would transfer to my unwanted guest. Especially if he was waiting for a two-fer.

“It’s you and me, bathrobe. As long there are hungry vamps tracking me down, I’ll need a cuddle, and baby, you’re all I got.”

I think if the fabric could have whimpered it would have. We were both tired. The dark circles under my eyes and too-thin look to my skin hadn’t been anything new in the mirror. I’d considered staying in the bathroom even longer, but my stomach had other ideas. Besides, avoiding the problem wouldn’t solve it. A vamp had invaded my kitchen, and he needed an eviction notice. I had to get him out of my domain and get redressed for my day—half day now—of torture in corporate lawyer hell.

Maybe if I ate the food, he’d go. It did smell pretty good.

Daniel stood with a hip propped against the counter, arms crossed, and peered at me from beneath hooded eyes. The casual posture lied. The simmer of his magic teased my senses, tickling my nose with a static buzz reminiscent of the precursor to a thunderstorm.

A covered plate rested to his right with a cup of tea beside it. My toes curled against the cheap tile as I took him in, hesitating in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. He was huge—over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a pair of the thickest arms and legs I’d seen in a long time. The vampire would be at home in any NBA lineup.

Now that I was no longer in my “uniform,” I didn’t quite know how to act around him. I should take the robe off. It’s easier to deal with them that way.

I toyed with the belt and discarded the idea. I didn’t want him getting ideas about more sex right now. In a few days my energy levels would return to normal, and I wanted to keep things that way. He hadn’t drained me as badly as others in the past, but I knew if I gave him another go round, I was going to be flat on my back in bed.

Screw it.

I held my hand out for the food, which he passed with that same smirking curve to his lips. I wanted to wipe the look off his face with a sarcastic crack about him trying to cover up a lack of intellect with his snotty smile, but I let it go when I saw the plate. Toast, eggs, bacon, fresh slices of cantaloupe, and hash browns all competed for space on my crappy, chipped china. I plucked a piece of the fruit up and took a healthy bite. The sweetness of the melon exploded against my tongue and I moaned, swiping at the juice dribbling down my chin. Daniel seemed to take my eating as a sign I wasn’t about to start in on him again about leaving, and his shoulders relaxed a smidge.

OK, so I’d give him until I finished. Then I was kicking his ass out.

He followed me into the living room and hovered three feet away. Maybe I’d get lucky and he’d leave on his own.

He took a deep breath, dropped his gaze to the floor, cracked his knuckles, and shifted his weight around.

Nope. No such luck.

I munched on my bacon with enthusiasm. It was cold since I’d been in the shower for so long, but still delicious. I would have gotten a half-stale doughnut from the ever-present box at the office if left to my own devices. The eggs were next, scooped up on the toast. Well, at least my tummy was happy. In fact, I felt better than I usually did after being breakfast for one of the big, fangy, and bangy.

A frown creased my forehead when I realized my hash browns lacked ketchup. A pair of thick, denim-clad legs suddenly appeared in front on me. I hadn’t even heard him move. He held a bottle of Heinz and the cup of tea out to me.

“Peace offering,” he said with a small, genuine smile.

I almost smiled back until I processed that he’d zipped into the kitchen and back out again in a creepy fast move. Instead, I accepted the proffered items and set the mug on the floor. The liquid looked like the right color, a milky blonde, but only a taste test would confirm if he’d put in the right amount of sugar.

All right this was just getting too cozy. Time to serve some walking papers.

“Look, I appreciate the food and all, but you really need to leave. I have to call work and try to talk my boss into not firing me, even though this is like the fifth time this month I’ve been obnoxiously late.” I popped the top on the ketchup and squirted it on to my potatoes in a thick red stream. “Then I’ve got to try to catch the next bus—which is in about twenty-five minutes.”