Killer Temptation (5 page)

Her eyes grew wide. Why would she want that? The mere thought of anything sharp enough to pierce her skin made bile rise in her throat. Hell, earlier her stomach churned at the sight of Cynthia shooting back that vial. But the thought of him sinking his teeth into her made her wet, hot, and so very aware of how empty she was. She needed him,
any
part of him inside her. Fangs. Fingers. Tongue.
Anything!

Back, and forth, his hips rocked. “Tristan.” Her body quivered, wanting more, wanting the clothes on their bodies gone. “I need you…I don’t know why, but I do. I crave you.” An avalanche sat in her chest, ready to self-destruct if he wasn't deep within her soon.

“As do I,” he groaned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Every part of me aches to be one with you.” The confusion in his voice matched her own. This connection didn’t make sense, but at that moment she did not care. He needed her as much as she needed him.

But you just met him!
She wasn’t that type of woman. Careless…like her cousin, Amber, who always bragged about her one night stands. No, Brianna stuck by a three-week rule.
What then? Forget the rule?

Hell yeah forget it!
Why should she stop? Why should either of them suffer a moment longer? “Do it. Please. I want you.”

With his hands, he thrust the hem of her dress over her hips. She almost placed her feet on the ground to remove her thong, but as his bare hands grasped her bottom—a smirk quirking his lips at her nakedness—she remembered taking it off in the bathroom. He fidgeted with his belt, and at last released the zipper.

She stared between their bodies. His erection sprang free and she shivered at the silky, thick length before her. One hand over her hip kept her against the bookshelf, the other guided his penis to her hot centre.

“Look at me, Brianna.” His voice held a strange power and she found herself gazing into those gorgeous eyes. He thrust forward, taking his length all the way to the hilt.

Brianna moaned.

Tristan groaned.

Two sharp points elongated over his lips…his fangs. He kept rocking, thrusting. His hot breath ran over her neck, just over the frantic pulse beating there. He wanted to bite her, to drink from her. She knew he did. Or maybe she just desired him so bad she assumed he wanted to. “Do it, Tristan.”

“Are you sure,
ma douceur
? I don’t want to scare you…”

“I’m sure. I’m not afraid. Promise.”

His hot, wet tongue slid along her pulse. With gentle nips, his teeth grazed her sensitive skin.

Bite me, already!
She almost shouted, arching her neck further. Sharp fangs scraped her neck, bit into flesh and sunk deep. Every part of her body hummed as her vagina muscles squeezed him, revelling in both pleasure and pain. Riding her hips hard against him, she let her head fall back into his supportive hands, long fingers seeping through her hair as she exploded in an intensive orgasm. His thrusts quickened, pumping in and out. His shoulders trembled beneath her palms as he reached climax, shouting her name. He eased his fangs from her neck and warm blood trickled from the small wound.

"I can’t believe this," he rasped against her throat with a strained voice, fighting for a steady breath.

“Believe what?” she asked, panting.

He veered back, his blood stained mouth agape. The intensity of his wide eyes held her in place, almost as though he were searching for an explanation. “You are mine.”

One hand supported her back, holding her against him as his free hand traced patterns along her cheek. She nodded in agreement. “Mmmh.” The afterglow of their lovemaking hummed within her body, and she didn’t pay much notice to what she said. “All yours.”

With a soft grunt, he took hold of her head, drew her close and swept his lips over hers in an intense kiss as though his life depended on it. The rusty flavour coated her tongue, but she did not care. The kiss softened to a gentler, tender brush. Tears filled her eyes. How could a kiss be so heart-stopping?

Something buzzed, but she ignored the sound when his hand caressed the side of her face, thumb running over the curve of her lower lip. Lips she detested. They were too thin and not full like some women. Did he think the same thing as he stroked them? Her cheeks grew hot under his scrutiny and the familiar sense of paranoia returned.

You should get collagen,
Percy used to say.

Enough
. She wouldn’t allow her stupid insecurities to pervade her mind.

“
Vous êtes belle
.”

“What did you say?” Panic emerged from her tone. Could he have said she needed collagen in French?

“I said, you are beautiful.”

Beautiful. He thought her beautiful. Her chin trembled as something small and warm ran down her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, afraid to speak any louder in case she broke into a sobbing mess.

He stroked the tear away with his thumb.

That loud buzzing sound interrupted again.

Tristan huffed. “
Merde
!”

“What is that?”

He eased back and set her on her feet. “My phone.” He zipped up his pants, dug a hand into his pocket to grab the small device.

“I understood cell phones weren’t allowed inside the function. I had to leave mine at the front desk.”

“
Oui
, this is true, but I don’t follow the rules.”

A soft smile stretched her lips. Of course, a man with his dominance didn’t follow any. He peered down at the device in his hand, mouthing with languid movement as he read the text in silence. Another buzz sounded, followed by a musical tune.

“Don’t answer.”
And talk to me,
she wanted to add, but stopped.

“I can’t.” He froze, as if hesitant. With an exasperated scowl scrunching his features, he stepped back to answer.

She smoothed her dress over her legs, focused on the tensed muscles in Tristan’s face as he listened to the caller. He spoke in rapid French and she cursed herself for only learning the basics. He finished the call and slid the phone into his pocket. She stood in front him, wringing her hands.

His gaze averted to the floor. “I must leave.”

“You’re kidding?” The hitch in her voice gave away her disappointment.

“I’m afraid not.” He took out his phone again. “Please give me your number. I will call you tomorrow.”

A combustion of heat burst through her pores. Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “Ha!” She forced the mock laugh, in an attempt to conceal her pain. “You must think I’m so stupid. As if you intend on calling. I see what went down here.” She waved her finger between them. “You’ve had your little fling for the night.”

“But—”

“Spare me your pathetic excuses,” she flicked her hand. On the carpet lay her purse, snatching it, she straightened. “Believe me, you’ll be doing me a huge favour and saving me from further embarrassment. Have a good night, you French pig!” She spun on her heels, storming out of the room.

Used. He used her like a damn mistress
.

Gosh, you’re so dumb, Brianna.
How dare he do that! Why did she let him? She wasn’t a weak woman, she could have said no. She frowned.
No, perhaps not
. The lure to be with him had been too strong. She’d have given her last breath to have him…
Stop!
These black toxins of passion were nothing more than chess pieces in a sick game of lies.

A few steps down the corridor, the thump of a fast pace sounded behind her. “Brianna, wait!”

“You know what?” She slapped her hands on her hips and wheeled around. “I don’t even do…” Thrusting a finger toward the office, she contemplated how best to explain what took place between them without calling it a one-night stand. “That!” she grated out. Anger coursed within her veins. There was no other justification.

“Neither do I.” He let his arms fall by his sides, and the column of his throat worked as he swallowed. “But we have no control over this. We need each other as much as we want each other.”

She pursed her lips, perplexed by his meaning.

He stepped closer, brows drawn together, mouth slack. “Look, you may think I’m talking gibberish, but I assure you I am not. What we shared wasn’t a one night fling, I promise you. I want to see you. I want you to give me a chance to explain. Please give me your number
. Je t'en prie
.”

Doubting he’d call, she rambled off the digits anyway.
Idiot!
As if this three hundred year old player would call. A part of her, however, wished he would. Hoped to learn the reason for the intense intimacy they shared. The way she burned for his touch, his bite…it did not make sense. Would he be able to explain the affection between them, the chemistry, and the explosive need they had for each other? He knew a great deal more than he implied and she was desperate to understand. It took a strong will not to shake the truth out of him.

He set his fingers beneath her chin and tilted. Their eyes met and held. “I’m terribly sorry I must leave you. Just know I would rather be here with you than anywhere else.”

Then stay,
she almost said. What could be so urgent that he had to leave, especially after just having sex?

“This isn’t over between us,” he said, breath fanning her lips. “It will never be over.” The silence that followed his husky tone lingered, as though he wanted the words to sink in. His mouth covered hers in one last, deep, passionate kiss.

She clung to the lapels of his jacket, revelled in the feel of his tongue colliding with hers, but he broke the kiss too soon, taking a step back. A hard look crossed his face, and she could have sworn he wanted to take her in his arms and stay with her for the rest of the night.

She had to be mistaken because he turned and strode away. The lines of stress in his face verified something was wrong. Maybe some emergency required his attention. Brianna passed an ornate mirror, paused at the glimpse of her reflection, and stepped back for a better look.

I’m a mess
. Dried blood stained her face. She rummaged through her purse for some tissues, cleaning her mouth and neck as best she could with what little illumination the corridor shed. Two faint round spots marked where he’d bitten. She squinted, touching the skin under the dim light. It wasn’t possible for the wound to heal so fast.

“Unbelievable,” she whispered, unable to deny the evidence. Maybe this was one of the things Tristan wanted to explain.

She marched through the many hallways, and descended the same stairs she climbed earlier. Music and chatter increased in volume as she entered the ballroom. Unhooking strands of hair from behind her ear, she finger-combed tresses over her shoulder to cover the faint bite mark before mixing with the crowd.

At one of the many wooden bars she found Amber, still chatting with the man referred to as Mr. Sexy.

“Sorry,” she gave an apologetic smile. “Have you seen Rachel?”

“No.” Some of the colour drained from Amber’s face. “I thought you would have found her by now.”

“Yeah, well…” She forced the muscles in her cheeks to relax, but the memory of what took place in that office heated them in seconds. “Um, plans changed.”

Her cousin’s puckered lips formed into a wide grin. “What change? A man?”

“Perhaps.” She averted her gaze to the man beside them and gave Amber a playful slap across the arm. “I don’t mean to burst your potential orgasm,” she whispered into her ear. “But we should probably start searching for Rachel now, since neither of us has seen her.” Brianna drew back and didn’t miss the confusion written over Amber’s face.

“My what?”

She rolled her eyes and bent forward to whisper again. “You and Mr. Sexy weren’t ending the party here, were you?”

“You know me too well.” Amber chuckled, the sound soft and awkward. “Give me a sec.” Her cousin turned back to the man. They exchanged a few words and said goodnight.

“Wow,” Brianna said as they walked away. “I’m in shock. I thought for sure you’d plan to meet up with him later for a quickie.”

Amber shrugged as a small blush crept over her face. “What can I say, tonight’s not his lucky night.”

That was strange, Amber always bragged about how she crawled from the beds of her one night lovers. Why so introverted all of a sudden? Maybe her cousin was done with the casual flings and sought something more.

“Besides,” she added. “We’ll have our hands full taking care of your drunken sister. We’ll do what we did before, but this time let’s meet here every thirty minutes.” They both nodded and headed in opposite directions.

Brianna’s clicking heels silenced as she marched off the wooden floor and onto the red velvet carpet. The smell of roasted meats and vegetables filled the air. Tall candelabras sat amid the many white linen covered tables and she used them as targets as she checked each table. “Sorry, just looking for someone,” she muttered as several people in their seats eyed her.

“Brianna?”

She paused and swivelled around. A young woman with short black hair and kind brown eyes rose from her seat. Brianna furrowed her brows. Who…Wait! Kind brown eyes…

“Oh my Gosh! Kimmie!” Slender arms wrapped around her in a tight hug and she struggled to control the tears slipping past her eyes.

“I can’t believe it’s really you.” From the tremor in her voice, Kimberley cried too.

She leaned back and stared at the young woman. She had changed so much from the little girl she once considered a friend. “Look at you, you are beautiful.”

“Me?” Kimberley waved her arms. “You look like a Victoria Secret’s model.”

Brianna almost snorted. “Please. It’s just the dress.”

Wiping the tears with her palm, Kimberly smiled. “I always wondered what happened to you. The day I left, I almost told my new parents to take me back. We always said it was just the two of us, remember?”