Tempting Gray - Untouchables 02 (24 page)

Grayson showed no hint of moving and yet, in
the next instant, he had his gun aimed level at Vincent. He fired without
warning and she screamed feeling her body jerk. She had no idea what happened,
if she got shot or if Vincent did, but then she felt him still at her back.
Peeling her eyes open, she saw that he’d moved them a foot to the left. Both
vampires were so fast, she couldn’t keep up.

“Grayson Blackmoore, I was beginning to think I
might never meet you.”

Grayson didn’t respond, simply held the gun
level with Vincent’s head.

“My two sons are dead because of you.”

“And many more are dead because of you and your
family.”

“Is that so?”

“You know it’s true.”

“True, what’s true, I say. Let me tell you a
truth, Mr. Blackmoore. I am a killer because the world needs killers. I kill
not for sport or thrill but for premise and reason. There are those who see
life and understand that death is a part of it, and they aren’t afraid to take
that life. Then there are those who are afraid of life, afraid of death, afraid
of killers. Fear drives them. Not me, Mr. Blackmoore. I am the killer, I
take
the life. I’ve created life, I’ve taken life, and I’ve sustained life.”

“You’ve murdered countless people, as have your
sons, all in the name of financial or resourceful gain. Not to mention those
who’ve disagreed with you over the years. You may paint yourself some sort of
moral truthsayer but you’re wrong. Life isn’t meant to be ripped from us. You
steal people’s lives and no matter how much you rationalize it, that doesn’t
make you right.”

The wire pulled tighter into her neck making
her gurgle deep in her throat. Then, he shoved her down to her knees before
him. He dropped the garrote and retrieved a clear bottle from his pocket.
Grayson fired four consecutive rounds but Vincent ducked behind Arabella,
wrapping his arm around her bleeding throat. Then he poured the cold liquid
atop her head.

The smell hit her first—alcohol. Rubbing alcohol.
Her eyes flew wide just as she heard the snap of a lighter behind her.

Grayson took a step toward her, frustration and
worry written across his face.

“Don’t come any farther, Mr. Blackmoore, or I
will have to light her on fire.” Vincent spoke so calmly. As if he was afraid
he had to impart on you bad news and wanted to tell you gently.

“This is about you and me, not her. Let’s do
this right now,” Grayson said.

Vincent smiled without bearing any teeth. “I
disagree. I think this has a lot to do with Arabella Donahue; your new woman,
is that correct? You may be able to move on quickly from the loss of your mate,
but I’m afraid I cannot move on so quickly from the loss of both my sons, you
see.”

“It isn’t like that,” Grayson said.

“Of course not, because you’re the perfect
statue for moral truth.”

Several silent moments passed as Grayson and
Vincent faced each other like two cowboys in a tense western.

The lighter’s flame went out. Vincent snapped
it alight once more, and then pressed the flame to her hair.

Gunshots fired.

Arabella’s haunting scream must have woken up
the entire pack.
Good
. Grayson wouldn’t mind a little help from Zeke
about now. She crashed around on the floor as Grayson fired his clip at
Vincent.

The vampire was fast, old and very good at
staying alive. Or else he’d have been dead a long time ago with the enemies he
had.

Grayson couldn’t remember ever being so scared
and shaken by anything in his life. He ran to her, tearing off his jacket and
smothering the flames until they were out. Vincent tore through the house and
Grayson set after him. He followed a dribbling path of blood through the
kitchen, past the living room where he saw Sissy—his gut clenched uneasily at
the sight. She deserved far better. The staircase creaked as Vincent barreled
up them with quick-footed steps, nearly a blur, but his quick vision easily
kept track of him.

Grayson dropped the gun having emptied his ammunition.
He hadn’t come here to fight. He’d come here to tell Arabella he chose her. If
he’d come to fight, he’d have brought more than his gun. He didn’t have
anything. No knifes, nothing. He ran up the stairs, turned the corner, then stumbled
forward on something. He didn’t see what tripped him, but as soon as he pitched
forward a garrote cranked around his neck, jerking him violently back. Vincent
grunted and sweated behind him as Grayson fought the hold, growling and clenching
his teeth through the burning pain as the silver cut into him.

Vincent tried to shove him to his knees but
Grayson pushed back, then reaching behind him, grabbed Vincent by the hair and
pulled. A big chunk of hair came off in his hand to Vincent’s shout. The
garrote loosened and Grayson slammed his elbow back catching Vincent in the
gut. The hold on him loosened and he half-spun slamming his elbow back and
catching Vincent’s jaw with a
crack
. He lost balance, the bloody garrote
dropping to the floor.

The man of his nightmares was here. The man who’d
killed his
bruid,
attacked his family, and set Arabella on fire trying
to kill her—was here and he was going to die.

Grayson stalked to Vincent with purposeful strides.
He clocked him across the face with a hard right, then up the chin with a vicious
left uppercut. Thoroughly disoriented, he slammed his boot into Vincent’s gut
making him double forward, gasping. Grayson grabbed him by the hair and snapped
his head to the left, then he bared his fangs and bit down—hard.

He wasn’t gentle. As Vincent pounded him with battering
strikes—even piercing him with something, a knife, he thought—he drank. He
sucked and sucked in huge mouthfuls, sucking this evil man’s life away.
Draining him moment by moment. He heard his heart slowing. He had to suck
harder to draw the last of his blood. And when the bitter taste ran dry and the
body he held trapped in his jaws like an animal stopped twitching, only then
did he release him.

Breathing heavily, Grayson looked deep into the
face of his enemy. A man he’d never even seen before.

“Grayson?” a soft voice queried.

He stood and jumped down to the bottom floor,
rushing to Arabella’s side. His nose tingled and his chest felt like it was
about to burst apart. She was burnt, ashy, and blackened from the smoke. “Are
you hurt?”

She pushed his jacket away and they embraced.
His heart beat rapidly. Smelling her again, feeling her again, and knowing she
was all right—he felt like he could master anything.

“No, well, not really. I’ll be fine. You came
for me.” She held him tighter making tears of all things spring to his eyes. “I
love you so much.”

He burdened his face in her throat. “I love you
too.”

And then the world shifted. He could feel it though
he suspected only he did. It was done. It was over.

“Where is he?” she asked, pulling away. “He
killed Sissy.” She started crying silently again. He pulled her close but didn’t
say anything. There was nothing to say. It was an incredibly painful moment for
her that couldn’t be disguised.

“He’s upstairs. Stay here. I’m going to get his
body.”

She jerked in surprise. “Why?”

“I’m going to burn his body to ash.”

She nodded, understanding as much as she could.
Because of the Donatos, he’d been forced to touch the torch to his mate’s
funeral pyre. Now, he’d do the same to Vincent Donato and end this once and for
all. He climbed the stairs and froze.

Before he could shout her name, before he could
even turn to look back down the staircase—he heard her yelp. Not a scream, but
an abrupt cry quickly cut off.

Something happened to his brain. He went on
autopilot. Jumping down from the landing, he raced into the kitchen. She was
nowhere in sight. The garage door hung open. He flew through it finding another
door open that led outside. He traced through it, his vision trying to take in everything
at once.

There it was again. “
Ack!
” A smothered
cry from the back of the house. Grayson raced back there in time to see
Arabella standing with an axe raised high in the air above a sickly, pale,
barely living Vincent Donato. The cry this time had come from Vincent. She’d
apparently grabbed the axe from its post at the back of the house and had
landed a solid hit to his chest knocking the vampire down.

Grayson traced to her side and gently took the
axe from her. “Let me do it, baby. Let me have it.” Her tight grip slowly
opened. Her eyes were wide. She probably didn’t quite know what was going on.
Too much shock, too much death—it’d been a hell of a day.

Vincent Donato gazed up at him with his
low-lidded gaze. Blood spilled from his mouth, his skin looked sunken like a skeleton.
“This is for Anita of Redenver house and all those who mourn her.”

Grayson hefted the axe high over his shoulder,
saw the cold acceptance in Vincent’s eyes, then let it fall.

The head split from the neck, severing the life
from Vincent Donato once and for all.

Searching Vincent’s pockets, Grayson found the
clear bottle of alcohol. He dripped what remained of it over Vincent’s body,
then lit it with his own lighter. The body lit up like campfire. Before the
scent grew pungent with decay, he wrapped his arm around Arabella and led her
away.

“I think I’m ready to go now,” she said.

“Me too, love, me too.”

“I have to see you. I’m going…” Grayson paused
to find the right word, “
nutty
.”

He couldn’t believe he had to sit in his cabin
talking to her on a phone while she stayed under Zeke’s protection at Zeke’s
orders. That son of a bitch. If Sophie hadn’t been there to treat Arabella and
help her to cope with everything that had happened, he wouldn’t have let them
keep her. They’d given her a new place to stay too. So, even though it’d killed
him to do it, he’d left her with her pack to heal. That had been
24 days
ago. Needless to say, he was finished waiting.

Arabella snickered. “Poor baby. Do you miss me?”
she asked naughtily. The tease.

He growled, his chest puffing up like a damn
peacock. “You know I do,” he said grudgingly. “More than anything.”

She sighed sweetly. “I miss you too, but you
heard what Alpha Zeke said. I have to stay here and recuperate for a whole
month.”

“I don’t care about a thing the man says. I’m
coming to get you.”

Another sigh. She sounded like she was enjoying
this. He pulled his phone away to glare at it and therefore
her
.

“You can’t wait six more days?”

His answer came quick. “No.”

She laughed again, the sound filling his heart
with lightness and joy. She made him feel that way—good and whole. Not like a
failure, not like a sinner.

“Well, then I
suppose
you could slip in
through the back door. Hello? Grayson, are you there?”

Grayson quietly contemplated the situation,
then with immense composure said, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

It ended up only taking him twenty-four
minutes. Arabella was laughing as he strolled through the door, but that
laughter stuttered to a stop as he caught her in his arms and kissed like he’d
been needing to. Hard and hungry, wet and wild. He ate her with his mouth,
craving the taste of her more than blood, more than anything. Her sweet, small
hands clung to him making him burn for her.

“Grayson,” she panted.

He grabbed the bottom of her shirt and whipped
it up and over her head. She reached under his shirt to rake her nails down his
stomach. Groaning, he crushed her mouth with another kiss. His gums throbbed
with the need to bite her and taste her sticky, sweet blood. The scent of her
arousal teased his nostrils—and lit his blood on fire.

“You’re wet.” His voice was deep and husky.

“Yes. And you’re hard.” She cupped him, deft
little fingers finding and stroking his cock through his pants. Another groan
escaped him. She was bringing out the beast inside him, making him forget
himself. Then he recalled she’d been sick and hurt not so long ago and he
needed to be gentle. The last thing he wanted was to accidently hurt her.

The soft panting sounds she made and the subtle
way she humped him and reached for him had him fighting for control. “Need to
touch you,” he said.

Tongues entwined, he opened the button of her
tight jeans and pulled down the zipper. Opening the material, he saw her flat
stomach, and the curve of her hips. It was enough to make his mouth water and
his hand dive into her pants. A scrap of black lace met his fingers which he
easily bypassed until he touched smooth, wet flesh. So soft as a feather’s
wing, he petted her, cupped her, driving them both mad. Her thighs were encased
and the jeans kept her from being able to open her legs. She mewled and rocked
against his hand with ever growing wantonness.

His cock throbbed to be inside her. She fumbled
with his pants to open them, but the fact that she couldn’t seem to open her
eyes hindered her quite a bit. Grinning, Grayson sucked on the skin at her neck
and thrust a finger deep inside her. Her wet, soft sheathe clenched around him
like a vice. He swore he drooled feeling her sex tugging on his finger, wishing
it was his cock.

Then the front door slammed open. Grayson had
his gun drawn and aimed in the next breath—his right hand still in her pants,
inside her.

Zeke Hunter threw up his hands, grinning. “I
surrender.”

Grayson didn’t lower the gun. “Get out.” He was
not in the mood. What he was in the mood for he was already touching.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said, crossing
his arms. “I thought we had an agreement. A month, she stays here to be with
her people, heal and all that shit. Now you’re sneaking in here to tap some
tail.”

Grayson fired a warning shot through the door.
Zeke smirked. “We never had an agreement. She’s mine and she’s safe and you’ll
leave now before I put a bullet in you.”

“I suppose I could let it be up to the lady,”
Zeke drawled. He leaned against the door, crossing his arms and posing like a
cowboy for a commercial.

“I told you from day one to let him come here,”
she hissed, eyes spitting mad.

Zeke winked. “I know, but sometimes I know what’s
best for my people. I’ll let you stay, Gray boy, but it’ll cost you.”

Anything,
so long as he left. “What?” he growled.

Zeke looked around considering it. “Oh, I’d
say, a handshake would do, but seeing as both your hands are, how do ya say it,
occupado
at the moment, let’s go with—three million buckaroos.”

“What! No! This is stupid. Ignore him, Grayson.”

“Done,” Grayson said over her.

Grinning, Zeke gave them a salute then
sauntered out shutting the door quietly behind him.

Arabella slapped his chest playfully. “I can’t
believe you agreed to that. He’s probably been waiting on you to come here this
whole time just so he could bribe you. It isn’t right.”

Grayson watched her with amusement. She looked
so indignant on his behalf. He found himself smiling. He set the gun away in
his holster then took off his jacket and shirt. She shut up and watched him.
The heat in her eyes made his blood burn for her. He went and locked the front
door.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

She gulped and he could see the pulse racing at
her throat. He licked his lips in anticipation. He was going to have that vein
tonight, while he fucked her.

She jerked her head to the right. “It’s that
room.”

He went into it, flipped on the light and turned
back to her. “Get your sweet ass in here, love.”

*

Arabella couldn’t believe he was here. Nothing
could make her happier—except maybe doing the down and dirty with her sexy man,
Grayson, the love of her life. She couldn’t believe that things finally showed
signs of working out. They could have a relationship. They could be together
and find happiness. And that time was starting now.

She ran after him to her bedroom. Who knew he
could be such a flirt? She shucked her jeans down her legs and kicked off her socks.
When she reached the bedroom she was in nothing but her black lacy thong—something
she’d thrown on after his promise of coming over her.
He made her stomach
flutter.
Delighted, she laughed as she stepped into the bedroom.

He stood at the bed waiting for her—completely
naked. His cock waited for her, masculine perfection ready to service her. She
licked her lips and his eyes tracked the movement like a hawk. His cock bobbed.

“You look even more beauties than I remember.
How is that possible?” he asked.

Blushing and smiling and feeling incredibly
joyous, she sashayed up to him and wrapped her arms around his thick neck, something
else she liked about him. She kissed his chest and his nipples, loving the way
his stomach muscles flexed and rolled with each touch.

“Maybe your memory is just foggy,” she offered,
blowing on his wet nipple, hearing his teeth clench shut.

She slid her hand around his shaft, pumping
him. She wanted to taste him, to suck him, to feel him thrusting inside her and
coming. Everything. She wanted it all. Slowly, she moved to sit on her knees.
He watched her with heavy eyelids, his lips parting, breaths deepening.

“You’re so sexy.”

He shook his head denying her words. She licked
the tip of his cock once. “Yes, you are. Incredibly so, actually.”

She grabbed the base of his cock and tugged on
him creating a rhythm meant to seduce and empower. Salty goodness leaked from
the end of him; she licked it away before kissing her way down his cock then
back up. She played with the heavy sac below, rolling and massaging the
sensitive flesh. His thigh muscles clenched reflexively, his hips rocking
gently back and forth, pushing his shaft deeper into her mouth. She moaned
around him. He tasted of man, warm, musky with a touch of salt. Right now it was
the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted and she didn’t want to stop.

She couldn’t keep from telling him her thoughts.
As always with him, she spilled her guts. “I want you so much. Come for me.”

Hands fisted her hair as his heavy breaths
panted loudly. He thrust his hips forward driving his thick, hard shaft down
her throat, then retreating. Again and again. He pulled away completely on a
growl, then lifted her up and tossed her on the bed. She landed face down and
he came up behind her grabbing her hips, then he pulled her back to him until
her feet touched the ground and she was bent over the bed.

“You want me to come, I’m not doing it in your
mouth. At least, not right now, love. I want something else a whole lot more.”

And then he thrust home. They cried out as he
filled her, holding the position as her body adjusted to his girth. It had been
weeks since he’d been inside her. She’d almost forgotten just how good it felt,
just how wonderfully he spread her open.

“Take me, Grayson. I love you!”

He took her with savage thrusts, the mating
hard but wicked. Her skin prickled with tingling sensations. Her nipples were
so hard they stung as they deliciously scraped the comforter as he pounded her
forward. There was no longer any need for words. Everything they had to say was
said with their bodies. The only sounds in the room came from the pounding of
flesh and the moans of pleasure.

He parted the hair at her neck, licking her
jugular in warning. Her sex flooded with arousal, throbbing around him with the
onslaught of her an explosive release. And he hadn’t even bitten her yet.
Knowing her anticipation, he chuckled in masculine laughter in her ear. Then
the sharp points of his fangs teased her neck, telling her he was ready, giving
her a moment to protest. When she didn’t, he sunk his fangs deep into her.
Pleasure shot through her like wildfire, burning everything in its wake. Her
clitoris throbbed and a climax rippled through her—violently. She shouted his
name, shouted out nonsense words and cries as he took her harder, her orgasm
driving him.

After the last wave rippled away, she moaned
feeling like she was floating on cloud nine. His thrusts slowed as he turned
her face to kiss her. His kiss matched the calmer, slower tempo. He was letting
her body float back down to earth and she was thankful for it. It was a
beautiful and incredible moment for her. In and out he slid inside her, pumping
back and forth.

Breathing hard, he buried his nose in her neck,
wrapped an arm around her chest to cup a breast and slid his other arm down her
stomach.

“Oh god!” she cried, when he circled her
sensitized clitoris. She was wet and he used her body’s moisture to wickedly build
her up. Soon his slow thrusts weren’t enough and she was backing into him
making him take her harder, then harder still.

Until he was rubbing her hard and taking her
like he was trying to claim her. “You’re mine, Arabella.
Mine!
”

“Yes!” she screamed. She flew apart by the seams.

Vision blackened in and out of focus as her
body burst from her leaving her bucking in his arms as he held her. “Right
there with you, love.”

Her milking sex was too much. Grayson slammed
forward and held himself poised, groaning breathlessly as his release shot
inside her. It was perfect. It was beautiful and hot and better than she ever
could have imagined.

She collapsed forward and climbed fully up onto
the bed. Grayson followed after her. He curled close still struggling to
breathe normally.

“You’re going to kill me,” he said.

She grinned at him and wagged her eyebrows. “You
think so?”

He chuckled, the sound beautiful to her ears. “I
know so.

“Then let’s start, because I’m still horny.”

He groaned and tossed an arm over his eyes. His
voice sounded angry but the lengthening of his shaft told an entirely different
story. “You’re a title deviant aren’t you?”

She touched his thigh, pressed a kiss to his
chest just over his heart. “If I say yes, does that mean you’ll kiss me from
head to toe?”

He lifted his arm to peer at her with one
gorgeous eye. “Perhaps.”

She thought about it, or at least pretended to.
“Then I’m a little deviant.” She shrugged helplessly.

He rolled on top of her making her squeal then
proceeded to make good on his promise.