Keeping his hands on her hips, he maneuvered her back, then she was the one pinned against the side of the building. He tilted his head, trying to give her better access because, hell, yes, he was loving this rough ride of pleasure. And the blood that she took…
It links us more.
His fingers slid around to the front of her jeans. Found the snap and jerked it free. Her zipper hissed down.
Her tongue licked over him.
He wanted to touch her skin. Wanted to touch her everywhere so he could discover just how soft she’d be.
Her body trembled against him. “You…you taste so good.” Her soft words were whispered against his neck.
He was betting that she’d taste like paradise.
“He tasted like acid, but you…” Now her voice wasn’t so whispered. It was snapping. Angry as awareness grew within her. Her fingers curled over his shoulders, and she pushed him back, just far enough that she could see up into his eyes. “You taste like dessert.”
Her little pink tongue slid over her bottom lip. As if she were savoring his taste.
Dangerous. The woman was lethal in more ways than he’d realized.
Her eyes—he could see them perfectly in the dark, a werewolf perk—narrowed on him. “Why do you taste like dessert?” Iona wanted to know.
He deliberately let his eyes widen. “Because I’m awesome?”
Her eyes had become golden slits. “What have you done?”
Aw, their hot moment was about to be over. Pity. His hand was still just inside of her jeans. So close to the flesh he wanted to touch.
She seemed to realize exactly how close his fingers were to her sex because she gave a little growl and pushed him back a good five feet.
Not inside her jeans anymore.
Iona yanked up the zipper and fixed the snap in an instant. “You thought to f**k me?”
Hoped, not thought, but he lifted his hands and shrugged. “You thought to drain me?” Jamie tossed back.
She growled again. Sexy. “Wolf,” she snarled, “I gave you a chance to live. You should have just stayed away from me.”
“Can’t do that.” Time for her to realize just how much her life had changed. “If I do, you die.”
She laughed at that. “What? Are you some sort of protector?”
Not hardly.
“Are you going to keep me safe from all the other big, bad wolves out there?”
“No.” Flat.
She blinked at that. A faint furrow appeared between her brows.
Jamie rubbed his chin. Time for some fast facts. “The human tasted like crap to you because you can’t handle his blood—”
“I’m a vampire,” said with a long sigh, as if speaking to a clueless child, “I can handle anyone’s blood.”
He risked a step toward her. His boots crunched on the gravel beneath him. “Not anymore you can’t.” Okay, she’d flip over this, but he figured it was best to just get it out there. “You see, your body’s tuned now. It’s only gonna want one thing. Can only accept one thing…”
Her head tilted as she studied him. “Tuned?” Her lips tightened in distaste. “I don’t know what you’re rambling about.”
“To survive, you need blood.” It was a simple fact of the undead life for a vampire. To keep existing, a vampire had to take in sustenance. Blood. And, usually, any blood would work to sustain a vamp.
But not for her. Not anymore.
“You were put under a spell,” he said this part quietly, with a hint of sympathy, because the spell had been a real bitch for her.
Her hands fisted. “I was there. I remember. You don’t have to tell me, wolf.”
The woman had more than a touch of arrogance. Probably because, if the stories were true, she actually had once been a queen.
“An alpha werewolf’s blood put you under the spell.” Here was the dicey part. But, really, what could she do to him? Without just hurting herself in return? “That meant only the blood of another alpha wolf could wake you.” And break the spell.
“So you’re an alpha. I’m so impressed,” she murmured, sounding not even the tiniest bit like she cared. A car horn honked in the distance. The wind kept brushing over them. Near the back of the bar, a chime tossed music into the air. Iona shoved back her hair. “It’s not like I haven’t met and killed a dozen of your kind before.”
Except for Latham. She hadn’t killed him. If she had, then neither of them would be having these problems right then.
“There was just one little rule about breaking your spell…” Jamie kept his voice flat when his own anger wanted to stir. He had helped the woman. As far as she knew, he was just being a good Samaritan. Had Iona even offered a thank you to him? He cleared his throat. “The wolf that woke you…”
“I wasn’t asleep!”
He ignored that, for now. She’d sure looked asleep—no, dead—to him. “You’d only crave the blood of the wolf that freed you from the spell.” He studied her, then said, “‘It will taste like wine to you…’” Now he was doing a direct quote from what a witch-in-the-know had told him during his search for the Blood Queen. Before Iona speak, he finished the last of that witch’s quote, “‘While the blood of others will never satisfy your hunger.’”
She grabbed him. In all of his years, he’d never seen a vampire move as quickly as she did in that one instant. “You’d better by lying.” Her fists had clenched around his shirt. The material was in danger of ripping at any moment.
He gave her a big smile, knowing that his dimple would flash. “Baby, would I lie to you? I’m the wolf who saved you.”
Her fists clenched even harder as she dug her nails into his shirt.
He kept his eyes on hers. Jamie said, “I’m also the man who’ll keep you alive. My blood. It’s what you need. What you’ll always crave.” He felt like he was driving nails into the vamp’s coffin. In a way, he was. He was also enjoying himself. Iona was about to realize just how much she needed him. “So it’s in your best interest to make sure that I live a very, very long life.”
The shirt began to tear. “You’ll never live as long as me.”
Normally, no. But their situation wasn’t exactly normal. “I will live as long as you give me your own sweet blood.” The beast inside had always enjoyed a taste for blood. And hers blood was the most powerful that he’d ever had.