Part 4 (2/2)

”Easier?” she said through gritted teeth. ”You call this easier?”

”Aye. Easier than it will be if you require blood for sustenance. Do you know what that will do to you, preying on others to survive? I know,” he told her, turning and pinning her with glinting green eyes.

”You've a soft heart, Tori McAdams, even if you keep it well hidden under that tough hide you show the world.

And seeing other people as food will tear at you, and destroy you. Have you thought of that?”

Yes. And that was why she felt so raw all of a sudden.

Deflated, she asked, ”Am I a monster now?”

”Oh, Tori, you don't have a monstrous bone in you.”

Then he crossed over and hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, cuddling his larger body against hers to comfort. ”But don't you think we should find out exactly what is in you?”

She ate. A normal sized meal.

But she still felt hungry.

Her body didn't want food though.

She could smell him, sitting across the table, warm, s.e.xy male. His blood throbbed in his veins and she could hear it, could hear the steady pounding of his heart, the soft whoos.h.i.+ng as blood flowed through his body. Her eyesight- sonofab.i.t.c.h-had improved as well.

She could have done without seeing the large vein in his neck that pulsed and fluttered and beckoned.

Lifting the gla.s.s of water to her mouth, she sipped, desperate to wet her dry mouth.

”What about orange juice?” she asked suddenly.

Lowering the gla.s.s, she stared at him with a puzzled frown. ”If the acid in it is what made my blood so distasteful, will it hurt me?”

”It was the garlic that made it distasteful, I'd say. The juice just made it uncomfortable to swallow. Garlic is almost like holy water to a vampire, or like sulfuric acid is to a human. So after you burned his throat with the garlic, he had all the acidic blood on top of that. I imagine you hurt him pretty d.a.m.n badly. But just the juice? I imagine it is like drinking orange juice when you have a cut in your mouth.” He quirked a blond brow her way and said, ”Do you want to find out?”

She hesitated, wrinkling her nose and asked, ”Will it hurt me?”

”Maybe physically.” Then he grinned and said, ”But it won't kill you. It's not holy water.”

Horror rushed across her face. ”Am I d.a.m.ned now?”

Declan shook his head, his smile fading. ”If you truly believe in G.o.d, then how can you ask? You didn't ask for this, didn't court it. You've done no evil, Tori.

Would G.o.d punish somebody who is innocent, because of something that was forced on him?”

She slumped in her chair. Rubbing her fingers across her brow, she said wearily, ”This is too much. Too much has happened, too many things have changed.”

”All right. I can always add some vodka to the orange juice,” he offered.

A tired laugh escaped her lips. ”A screwdriver sounds rather tempting,” she said. ”Come on. Let's get it over with.”

It didn't hurt. The juice slid down her throat easily, and she savored the sweet taste on her tongue. ”Why is everything so much more vivid now?” she asked, draining the gla.s.s.

”Vampires have enhanced senses,” he replied. ”But that's not what you want either.”

She flushed. ”You noticed.”

”When you're eyeing me like a bedtime snack, it's hard not to notice,” he said, shrugging. ”If it were only in the hedonistic sense, it would be flattering. Right now, it just is. We'll handle it. ”Can you sleep?”

She frowned, trying to follow his rapid change of topic while she adjusted to just how well he could read her.

And she imagined he had always been able to read her that well. Without answering, she asked a question of her own. ”Are your senses as heightened?”

”Some are even more so,” he answered, a bit cautiously it seemed. ”Why?”

”Which ones?”

”Ah, smell. Hearing. You, well, most vamps are a little stronger, but I am faster, more agile.”

”Smell?”

”Why are you asking?”

Meeting his eyes, she said, ”You read me a little well for my own comfort. How?”

He lifted his shoulders slowly. ”Your expressions. Your heart rate picks up when you're nervous. I know you are still hungry, because of the way you keep looking at me, then away. And you keep licking your lips, like you always did when I stopped by with something from Cinnabon,” he said, grinning faintly, the dimples in his cheeks deepening to slashes as his mouth curved up.

”Your scent changes a little with your nerves, your anger, and your emotions.”

”Changes?” Her voice squeaked a little. Clearing her throat, she asked, ”Changes how?”

Now his grin was wider, and wicked. He had figured out why she was asking. His soft green eyes didn't look so soft now; more wild and dark and green-hungry and hot.

”Changes.” He paced around her, much like a wolf circling his prey. Each circle brought him closer, until he was brus.h.i.+ng her body with his every time he moved. ”When you're aroused, you smell...hot. I know that scent. I've smelled it on you nearly every time we've been together. I heard it every time your breath caught in your throat, every time your heart kicked up, how you'd grow wet with wanting. I've wanted nothing more at times than to bury my face between your pretty legs and eat. But you always pushed me away.

”It drove me mad, knowing you wanted me, knowing you didn't want to.” Moving behind her, he gripped her hips and rocked his rigid c.o.c.k against her a.s.s- naked under the s.h.i.+rt.

”It made me want to howl, made me want to take you down to the floor and f.u.c.k you until you couldn't see straight. Until we collapsed-both of us.”

His hands came up and caressed her aching b.r.e.a.s.t.s, fondling and tweaking the nipples while she whimpered and moved against him, thrusting her t.i.ts into his hands, and her bottom against his shaft. ”And the nerves. When you are turned on and wanting me- like I want you-you get nervous, worried that I will see.

And it smells sweet, and innocent, like rain in the spring. That was what kept me from pus.h.i.+ng, knowing how nervous you were, how torn. I knew something kept you from letting me close, even though you wanted me.

”And it hurt you, confused you. So I made myself not push,” he finished, jerking her s.h.i.+rt up and baring her a.s.s. He smoothed his hands down the rounded white globes, squeezing and stroking, feeling the tense muscles just below her skin that quivered with every touch. Then he turned her around and lifted her naked b.u.t.t onto the edge of the counter, moved between her thighs and freed his c.o.c.k.

”Look at you,” he muttered thickly while he spread her legs wide, exposing the wet folds of her body-pink and damp-the curls that covered her mound, her long torso, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s covered by the s.h.i.+rt and one b.u.t.ton. With a jerk, the b.u.t.ton popped off and her heaving chest was revealed-her white t.i.ts with dark pink nipples, already erect. ”Such a pretty sight. You're so wet,” he mused as he slid his hands behind her ankles, up her calves to her knees.

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