A Total-E-Bound Publication
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My Immortal ISBN # 978-0-85715-275-8 ©Copyright Wendi Zwaduk 2010 Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright August 2010 Edited by Jess Bimberg Total-E-Bound Publishing This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing. Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution. The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork. Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
MY IMMORTAL Wendi Zwaduk
Dedication To EH, CM, MO, JS, MA, KC, and all those others who were willing to help me bring Stevie and Storm’s story to life—you helped so much and I wouldn’t have gotten this done without you. To Jess for helping me hone my skill and being an awesome editor. To JPZ…you might not be My Immortal, but you are mine.
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Chevy Camaro: General Motors Company Chevrolet: General Motors Company NASCAR: National Association of Stock Car Auto Racing
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Chapter One
“Just pretend we like each other. That shouldn’t be too difficult.” Storm Richardson stared at his partner, Stephanie ‘Stevie’ Persing, across the bench seat of her beloved jet black 1978 T-top Chevy Camaro. She ran her fingers through her dark hair and gave the curls a fluff as her other hand slid across the steering wheel with a lover’s touch. Hell yes, he wanted those hands all over his body. Stevie checked the mirror and bit her bottom lip. “If we act more like a couple, then people won’t think we’re spying on them.” If he had his way, he’d force Stevie to stop the car so he could scoop her into his arms. I already like you. Hell maybe I even love you, Stevie. Pretending to be her boyfriend wouldn’t require an act on his part. He’d liked her from the moment he saw her five years ago, except she’d made it clear she didn’t mirror the feeling. He assumed she liked him as a friend, but he wasn’t sure. Hell, every moment he spent around her, he smelled her arousal. The problem was she didn’t know his true identity. How could you love someone you hardly know? He liked her endearing tendency to chatter in excess in almost every situation. Stevie insisted on talking when all he wanted to do was stare at her. She gripped the steering wheel and her knuckles turned white. Was she nervous? Excited? “Storm, we’re working the Chatty Catty Club tonight to catch Bruce Tripp in the act. Edie’s ready to rip me apart because we haven’t produced any damning pictures. Doesn’t your friend Falco bounce there?” Storm frowned and glared out the window at the illuminated main drag of New Haven, Ohio. The neon highlighted the front row of stores and the silvery sidewalk stretching into the distance, but he didn’t need the enhanced lighting. Being a vampire hyper charged his senses. He could see things at great distances, feel the tiniest pinprick on his supersensitive skin, and hear every conversation in a crowded bar. He didn’t need the work as a private investigator—being immortal gave him a lot of time to
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save up his resources. Then again, to stay under the radar, he didn’t stick to one profession for more than a few years. Blending in worked just fine, until he met Stevie. Stevie managed to whip his sense of smell and taste into warp drive. The sweet scent of her fear knotted his insides. He didn’t want her to be afraid when they were on the cusp of catching yet another cheating spouse. What was the true reason for her apprehension? He yearned to climb into her mind and help ease her fears. For the night to go smoothly, he needed to pull his thoughts away from Stevie and continue mentally prepping. Their current client, the ever-exciting Edie Tripp, was just that— a trip and a pain in the ass. She made his brain ache. She suspected her husband of cheating with his secretary and wanted Storm and Stevie to catch him in the act, or as close to ripping the sheets as possible. He needed something to get his mind off the pesky woman and the lousy way he was about to spend a perfectly beautiful Friday night. “So, will Todd be there?” Stevie asked, her voice tinged with annoyance. “You didn’t answer me.” “Yes, sweetheart. Todd’s the bouncer, and yes, he’ll be there.” Storm smirked. His friend and fellow vampire, Todd Falco, could crush iron with his bare hands. At the traffic signal, Stevie screeched to a halt. She turned to him and rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant, Storm. Do you think he could get us through the line faster? I hate to wait in heels. Then again, you know how much I hate working in heels to begin with.” Storm rubbed his jaw, blotting out a smile. She hated anything but comfy sneakers or good old socks. Unfortunately, clubbing required sexy clothing and footwear. Whether she was comfy or not, she looked darn cute jacked up four inches in knee-high boots. “If we cut in line, honey, then we’ll give ourselves away. The point is to blend in. Don’t worry about the heels. You’ll be able to sit at the bar. Allan’s waiting on you to give you the scoop about our clients.” Though it was nearly impossible for him to disappear in the crowd; he was a freaking vampire. A bloodsucker and damned sex fiend. He couldn’t blend in if he tried.
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Women clung to him in droves, claiming they liked his raw sex appeal. He never understood the draw. When he looked in the mirror, all he saw was a monster in expensive clothing longing to regain his humanity. Stevie stuck out her bottom lip in a pout and distracted him from his pity-party. “Fine, but this time, you’d better act like you want to be there with me. The only attention I got Tuesday night came from the tacky bartender and what he wanted was a better tip. Fortunately, Allan’s more of a gentleman. Still, we aren’t acting like a convincing team when you pretend I don’t exist.” Storm frowned. Oh, she existed and blocked out the image of every other woman in the room. She inhabited his dirtiest fantasies each time he closed his eyes. In his latest dream, he wanted to throw Stevie against the nearest wall and make love to her until they both screamed with delight. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. But then Stevie never saw that because of the never-ending line of women dogging his heels. What would she say if he finally told her the truth? She had an open mind. When he asked her about ghosts, she claimed to believe they existed. Vampires were people, too… Storm clenched his jaw. His heart thudded and fear thundered through his veins. The reason he kept his identity secret was the sheer terror of knowing she’d run screaming into the night if she knew. When the song on the stereo ended, Stevie interrupted his thoughts. “I don’t know how you do it, but you manage to find a willing woman everywhere we go.” “For your information, I didn’t force Sallie Carmen to give me her phone number.” He studied her profile. Stevie turned his insides out in every delicious way. No other woman existed. “And I never called her.” Stevie made a gagging noise. “Right,” she replied, drawing the word out. She fiddled with the radio and turned it up a bit to sing along with the Vinnie Joel song. Storm grinned. Stevie’s alto voice complemented Joel’s country twang well. As she continued to harmonise, Storm took the opportunity to take a good look at her. Her long mahogany hair cascaded down her ivory shoulders in soft waves. She wrapped her hands around the steering wheel, caught up in the emotion of ‘Best Mistakes’. He smiled.
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Her delicate hands could wield a gun with deadly accuracy under the toughest circumstances. If he was a gambling man, he’d bet he was already in love with her and had been since the day he first saw her. At the stoplight, she smoothed back the fringe of hair partially covering her eyes and glanced at him. He could get lost in those pale blue orbs. The thick liner and mascara gave her a hint of mystery and concealed her innocence. Her devotion and compassion ensured she’d make any man a good wife. He’d bet she was a hellcat in bed, not that he actually knew firsthand. Each time he tried to get close to her, she shied away and it drove him nuts. He’d like to kill the bastards that made her so gun shy—if he could get the whole story out of her. “So what do you plan to do to capture my attention?” He raised a brow. Because I want to catch you with your guard down… “I know how you hate to lose, so I’m placing a wager.” “Okay, what’s your wager?” He grinned. A sparkle lit her eyes and made his cock twitch. True, he hated to lose, but with Stevie as the reward, he’d gladly suffer defeat and tell her who he really was. “Instead of crashing on the couch tonight, I’ll sleep in your bed. But you have to pay attention to me to win. If you accept numbers and dances from any woman tonight, then I win and you have to sleep on the floor, Storm Richardson. Do we have a deal?” For the past three weeks, Stevie insisted on staying at his house after their evenings of playing detective and catching misbehaving spouses. She claimed she hated driving the extra half an hour home, but he knew the real reason. She needed the reassurance that someone had her back in case one of the angry spouses wanted retribution. Storm insisted on being her protector. Plus, he had a sneaking suspicion that Gypsy, her younger sister, had probably moved back into her apartment. Her presence grated on Stevie’s nerves. Gypsy tended to take whatever she saw, even if it wasn’t hers to have. Damn, he wanted Stevie in his bed every day and night. Yes, indeed, the idea of winning sounded pretty damn rewarding. With a curt nod, he spoke. “Give the valet the keys and get in line with me.” As she pulled the car to a stop, she stared at him. “Well? Do you agree? I won’t get out of the car until you tell me.”
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He unhooked his seatbelt. Her feisty streak had reared its hot little head. Unspoken sexual tension clouded around them, along with a new scent—her arousal. Time to kick it up a notch. “I’ll tell you while we wait. Or do I have to spank you to get you to behave?” A smooth eyebrow curved while she bit her lip, as if pondering his words. He refused to give her much choice in the matter. “Deal.” Storm walked around the car to open the driver’s side door for Stevie. He dipped his head in greeting to the parking lot attendant and held his hand out to Stevie. She blushed and gave in with timid acceptance. He twined their fingers together and led her to the end of the short queue. “At least we’re here early enough to scope out the patrons.” She wrapped her arms around her body and huddled close to him. The thin, fire engine red halter dress barely covered her voluptuous frame. Goose pimples rose on her pale skin and he thought he could hear her teeth rattle. “It’s the middle of August and at least eighty-eight degrees here in New Haven. I can’t fathom why you’re cold,” he murmured in her ear. This time when she shivered, it wasn’t from the chill. “Let me warm you, baby.” Needing to feel her in his soul, he pressed her back tightly against his stomach and curled his arms around her body. She stood eight inches shorter than him in bare feet and the sexy boots put her at perfect kissing level. His gums ached for a taste of her and it took the utmost concentration to force the hunger away. “So when does this bet take place, Stevie?” When she cocked her head, she gave him a great view of her porcelain neck. Her jugular vein practically called to him. Dammit. “Why not start right now, Storm? I’ll bet you can’t focus on me tonight, but calling me ‘baby’ was a good start.” She angled her head so her lips hovered mere millimetres from his ear. “And maybe, I want you to spank me.” Her husky whisper sent a fresh jolt of desire to his cock and his mouth watered. He wanted to smack her ass and sink his body deep within hers until she screamed his name. Grief, he was in trouble. “And when I win?”
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“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” She curled her fingers around his hands. He felt the sizzle from her touch straight to his groin and his heart. She’d be his undoing and he welcomed the challenge. When he bent to nuzzle her neck, a strange new scent charged his senses. The aura of roses and baby powder danced around her body. The lack of male musk meant she hadn’t partaken of sex for quite a while. The stronger, pure scent of her arousal slid over his senses. She wanted him. “You split from Ace, didn’t you?” He licked his lips. She let go of him and whirled around. Her gaze didn’t quite meet his. “Yeah, well, there wasn’t much to it, but I don’t want to go into that here.” Her fingers knotted together. “How did you know?” “Lucky guess.” Cupping her chin, he forced her to look at him. Her blue eyes clouded, making them the blue of the deepest ocean water or the sky before a raging thunderstorm. Would her eyes darken when they made love? He needed to find out and soon. Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip. The nervous gesture sent shivers along his spine. A couple of inches lower and he could taste her sweetness. He forced his lust aside. She needed a friend, not a horny vampire. Not yet. “What did he do to you?” As she squared her shoulders, she took a deep breath. “He screwed Gypsy and then claimed he thought she was me. I don’t know how, since she’s five-nine and honey blonde. He said something about being shit faced and needing my comforts. I didn’t buy it then, and still don’t. It was pitch-black when I caught them in my bed.” Storm fought the twin waves of relief and anger. He hadn’t liked Ace from the beginning and the fact the jerk screwed her good-for-nothing sister only confirmed his feelings. His heart still ached for Stevie, better off or not. Life tended to dump on her in garbage truck proportions. “Why did you think scum like that would make you happy? His name is Ace, for God’s sake.” A lock of glossy, dark hair swept across her forehead when she looked away. “Actually, his name is Herbert Axel Blake.” He tried to contain it, but the laughter bubbled up on its own accord. She eyed him curiously then burst into giggles, too.
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“Yeah, that’s his real name. I guess he thought Ace sounded cooler.” Stevie rubbed his chest playfully, sending lust surged through his veins. He brushed her tresses from her eyes and trailed his fingers down her cheek. “It doesn’t sound cool at all.” Her lips parted as she snorted. “I doubt I could’ve married a Herbert. It sounds too old-fashioned.” There was a definite catch in her voice. He choked on his good humour. Too old-fashioned? What would she say when she found out he was three hundred and ten years old and grew up in Colonial Massachusetts? That was ancient history, even by his terms. Deciding to try his luck, he posed a question. “How about a Jacob?” She crinkled her slightly upturned nose. “Who’s Jacob?” Flashing his best smile, he caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Me.”
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Chapter Two
Stevie stared at Storm and tried to process his simple answer. The heat in his hazel eyes pinned her to the spot. If she didn’t know any better, it almost looked like molten hunger. She shoved that thought aside. He didn’t want her half as much as she needed him. He was talking like this just because he couldn’t handle losing a bet. “You’re Jacob? I thought you were Storm.” Marriage? The night air must have gotten to him. He couldn’t mean marriage—like, forever together. True, the idea of being Storm’s wife appealed to her more than being with Ace ever did. She stared at the brickwork of the building to gather her thoughts. Something didn’t jive. How had he known about the split from Ace? He called it a lucky guess. A presumption, her ass. So why did the fact he knew and cared appeal to her? She wanted to tempt him. She sighed as his fingers wrapped around her upper arm, and he urged her forward. The touch felt platonic, not wanting or raging with desire. She chided herself. He meant to advance them in line, not turn her on! And yet, his thumb caressed her skin in soft swipes that penetrated all the way to her core. Maybe she needed quick, meaningless sex because Storm—or Jacob, or whatever his name was—didn’t fall for women like her. Men fell prey to perfect women with long legs, flawless makeup, shiny hair, and no fat on their waiflike bodies. Women like her sister Gypsy. As much as she wanted to back out and concede defeat, a tiny part of her wanted to immerse herself in Storm. Besides, a bet was still a bet. A blonde clad in nothing more than a bandage-sized skirt and a thin black tube top approached on spindly stilettos. Stevie gritted her teeth and considered tripping her. Here we go. The woman shoved Stevie out of the way and pressed herself against Storm. “Do you have a date tonight?” she purred. She tossed her over-processed hair over one shoulder to reveal her golden fake-bake tan.
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Every time Stevie and Storm went out, some woman grabbed his attention. Stevie rolled her eyes. She wasn’t surprised, more disappointed than anything. She folded her arms and watched the traffic zip by in an attempt to block out her frustration. If the woman didn’t back off, Stevie would have to add her two cents. “I happen to be here with someone.” Storm’s words came out in a growl. “Please disengage your hands and leave us alone or I’ll alert the bouncer.” Stevie forced herself not to turn. His authoritative voice always made her panties wet. He snaked an arm around Stevie’s waist. She didn’t feel much like a girlfriend, but she wouldn’t show a crack in her composure as she switched her glare to the intrusive woman. The woman cackled, no doubt knowing that Stevie wasn’t his lover. “When you’re done with the time killer, come find me.” “Thank you, but I’m not interested.” Stevie rolled her eyes again. Why did he insist on being a gentleman? Why didn’t he just wuss out of the damned bet and stroll off with the bimbo? Because he didn’t want to lose any more than she did. She bit back a grin. His king sized bed with the Egyptian cotton sheets became more appetising by the minute. Storm turned her around in his embrace. “Stevie, I believe I owe you something.” She refocused her attention to the man who kept her warm with nothing more than the sound of his velvet voice. “You didn’t lose the bet.” She tried to ignore the way he made her feel. He smelled like clean linen and danger. Like sin and sex. Storm brushed her hair off her face and stroked her jaw with his middle finger. His lips, not too full but luscious enough for kissing, were inches away from hers. No stubble marred his chiselled jaw. Just perfect, though a bit pale, skin. No wonder the women flocked to him in droves. He was romance hero/cover model gorgeous. He cupped the back of her head and tightened his other arm around her waist. She sucked in a ragged breath as her heartbeat thumped in her ears and liquid heat swirled between her legs. Good Lord, this man was good. “I don’t care about the damn bet.” He crushed his lips against hers.
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Fuck, she tasted good. Like sugar, honey and sex wrapped up in a saucy little brunette package. Her tiny moan thrilled Storm. He pushed the kiss further, tangling his tongue with hers. Their teeth clashed once or twice, but neither relented. Her taut nipples pressed against her thin blouse in an attempt to rub against his chest. He cupped her breast and kneaded the supple flesh. The clothes needed to go and soon. Who the hell had decided they needed to work tonight anyway? Her nails scraped his shoulders through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. His nerve endings sizzled. Would she scream as he pumped within her body? Would she allow him to drink from her vein? Or would she see this as nothing more than an attempt to fake everyone into thinking they were a couple? Her scent—a mix of flowers, roses or violets, and sheer Stevie—swirled around him. She wanted him. For the first time in many years, he felt alive. She made his cold heart warm again. They could have a future, if the demons from his past stayed in the past. The vision of his nemesis Jamison O’Toole flicked across his mind. Stevie wasn’t a pawn for O’Toole to change and destroy when he felt the need as he had Storm’s last true girlfriend, Erin. Storm forced the mood-breaking thought out of his head and refocused on Stevie. Her throaty groans stirred him. She responded like no other. A whisper interrupted his euphoria. Mate. Storm forced his eyes to remain shut. This couldn’t happen. It shouldn’t happen. It was too soon for the voice to reveal his mate. Mate. Each time he smelled the sweet essence of her need for him, he fought off his own overwhelming desire. Was it possible that Stevie was his true mate? She suited him in every way he knew. Sexually… Well, he intended to put that unknown to rest tonight. She moaned and wriggled closer. A ripple of excitement shot through him as doubt fizzled away. The rest of the world be damned. Stephanie Persing was his mate.
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Someone shrieked and the line surged forward, signalling the opening of the club. Stevie broke the kiss. The hungry fires in her eyes and the swell of her well-kissed lips spoke volumes. How much longer until they could get horizontal within the privacy of his home? “Come on. The faster we catch him in the act, the faster we can deal with the bet.” She shook her head and whispered, “Yeah.” Confused and on the brink of allowing him into her wildest fantasies. Damn, she was sexy. God, he wanted her to fall for him in the same elemental way he desired her. Storm paid the cover charge and led her to the corner of the bar where their voices didn’t carry. “Get a drink and meet me on the dance floor in half an hour. If you see Bruce, tell the bartender. Allan knows the signal to get my attention.” He cupped her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Once my work out in the parking lot is done, I want to dance with you—only you.” She balled both fists into his chest, barely denting into his heated skin. “Okay.” Her playful mood soured. “I think I see Cherylyn over by the DJ and she looks pissed.” Storm edged her around so he could take in the scene. Bruce’s lover stood by the DJ stand, waving her hands. “I’ll be back ASAP. She’s hip to something and we’d better find out what.” His heart thudded against his ribcage. He didn’t want to leave Stevie. “I know you can handle yourself, but I still want you to stay here in case I need backup.” Stevie rolled her eyes and a slight pink cast streaked across her cheeks. “Then go.” He shouldn’t, but Storm pressed another kiss to her lips. “I’ll make this up to you.” With that, he snuck away to case the parking lot. At the side door, he paused to take a look back at Stevie. She sat perched on the barstool, sipping a mixed drink and bopping her head to the techno beat. In that moment, she was the sexiest woman alive. The door beeped and he took his leave. In the mass of Detroit steel, Bruce Tripp’s slate grey sports car with the license plate ‘TRIPPY’ stood out. Cherylyn’s miniscule teal hybrid model took up a parking space about halfway across the lot. Storm engaged the camera feature on his personal data assistant and snapped a few quick shots of the cars. “Now back inside, where I can watch everyone at one time.”
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Within moments, he returned to Stevie. The drink melted in her glass, but the smile on her lips never faded. He angled around the dance floor to sneak up behind her. She cocked her head and wound a lock of dark hair around her finger. Allan leant forward on his elbows to speak to her before a blond man with a crooked grin and sultry dark eyes stopped next to her. Stevie dipped her head and turned towards the dance floor. The man took her hand and kissed her knuckles. Despite the rumble of the crowd, Storm zeroed in on the man’s words. “Dance with me, drink some wine, and accompany me to the private rooms.” Storm’s fangs burst forward, ready to rip the man limb from limb. Thank whoever or whatever watched over her that Allan leant forward again. “She’s not interested, buddy, so back off.” Stevie yanked her hand away and waved to the throng of people. “I don’t want to dance. I’m waiting on someone.” The man leant forward to speak in her ear. “A saucy little thing like you shouldn’t waste time by the bar. It makes you look desperate. Are you desperate?” At that moment, Storm saw red and surged to her side. No one stepped in on his woman or called her foul names. He reached around her and grazed her breasts. She gasped. Her nipples spiked, taut and ready for his caresses. No others. He grinned. “Hello, beautiful.” Stevie angled to cup his jaw and planted a kiss on his lips. Was this part of the charade, or honest interest? Based on her body’s response and the sugary scent of her arousal, he’d bet the latter. “You never mentioned a boyfriend,” the man grumbled. Storm glared at the blond interloper. “You never gave her a chance.” “You can have her.” The man shrugged. “She’s a bit chunky for my tastes.” As he walked away, Stevie turned to Storm. “It’s funny. Most women would trip over themselves to get a chance with a guy like him. After that comment, I’d rather claw his eyes out. Arrogant ass.” She took another sip of her melted drink. “Thanks Allan.” “Yeah, man, I owe you.” Allan nodded and pointed to the other end of the bar without a word. “I’ll be down there.”
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Once his friend strolled away, Storm wrapped his arms around Stevie and kissed her temple. “You didn’t need it, but I had your back. I’ll always have your back, your front and every other inch of you.” “Thank you, although that was a bit over the top.” She shook her head. “I think everyone in the room knows I belong with you.” “Or the other way around.” She dropped her head to his shoulder and laughed. “Good call, but on to more important things. You missed the Bruce and Cherylyn show. They’re fighting.” Stevie frowned and toyed with the crimson strap of her dress to untwist it. He caught a whiff of her hair. Flowers. Who cared about the clients? “A bad argument or just a quick spat?” In other words, how long until he could get her alone without the worries of the job barging in. As he surveyed the crowd, he caught the flicker of someone watching them. He peered into the direction of the voyeur and his blood ran cold. Jamison? Shit. No. He wasn’t about to let his sire ruin the evening. When he took a second long look, the man disappeared. Storm made a mental note to keep a better eye out. With Jamison on the prowl, hell would definitely break wide open. Stevie’s voice broke through Storm’s thoughts. “They’re having a quick spat, but it’s like watching a volcano. You know it’s going to blow eventually. She found out about his wife. Cherylyn wants him to divorce Edie.” She rubbed her nose along his jaw en route to his ear. “Allan noted when they came in— together.” Stevie’s breath on his skin stole the thoughts from his head. It took a full minute to process her words. Even then, he wasn’t sure he cared about anything other than the woman in his arms. “Why don’t we dance and snap a couple of pictures to send to the current Mrs. Tripp so we can get this job out of the way?” As if to punctuate his question, a throbbing rock song rang from the speakers. “And did I mention, you look delicious in red?” She slid off the barstool. “Thanks.” A blush crept up across her cheeks. “Lead the way and I’ll follow.” Once they reached the dance floor, Storm spun her in his arms so her back rested against his chest. The scent of alcohol and fevered bodies hung thick in the air. Stevie reached her hand around to twine her fingers in his hair and ground her ass into his groin. He
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palmed her jaw, turning her head, and kissed her lush mouth. “Ah Stevie, this music makes me want to rush home to fuck you.” A moment of shock flickered in her eyes as she froze mid-kiss. He grasped her hips and tugged her closer. “Do you feel this, Stevie?” His erection pulsed against her curvaceous butt. “You do this to me, not a silly bet. No one else.” Her lips parted and he captured them in a deep kiss. Heat rushed through his system. He needed a bed, now. Her nails scraped his scalp, but he didn’t care. He wanted her marks on his back, his arms, anywhere she damn well pleased. A bump from one of the couples in the crowd broke his reverie. He glanced up to see Bruce and Cherylyn knotted up in their own sensual embrace. He snorted. Shitty timing. “Spin, Stevie. Photo time.” She did as told and stuck a sexy pose by throwing her arm over her head and clutching the strap of her thin cotton dress. Pretending to capture pictures of Stevie, Storm took the photos necessary for the job and a couple extra for himself. So he sounded horny and a bit possessive? By the time he confessed, he wanted her for more than work partners. A fresh burst of desire flushed his body. His cock throbbed to the point of pain. He nodded when he finished his handiwork and tugged her close once more. “Let’s get one of us together.” She snuggled against him and pouted for the camera. At the last minute, she turned and planted a wet kiss on the corner of his mouth. “You want to play dirty?” Storm met her surprised grin. Stevie crooked a brow. Her eyes flickered with the pulsing light display from the ceiling and a bit of mischief. “Maybe I do.” He shoved the electric device into his back pocket and captured her lips. They couldn’t get home fast enough. What a sweet torment.
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Chapter Three
Ten minutes later, when Stevie and Storm stepped out into the brisk night air, Stevie rubbed her chilled arms. The fluorescent parking lot lights glinted off the cars. The throbbing bass line of the club music rumbled the pavement under her feet. She rubbed her clammy palms on her hips and rolled her tongue around her dry mouth as thoughts swirled around her brain. She wanted to open up and let go in Storm’s arms. At the same time, she fought the baser urge to thicken her defences around her heart. “Do you mind if I drive?” Storm wrapped his arm around her. “I thought I’d give you a rest for the ride home.” Stevie cocked her head. Storm never asked to drive her precious car. He always allowed her that little bit of control. She worried the corner of her mouth for a second. The valet attendant arrived and handed her the keys. Who was she kidding? She trusted the man completely. Storm wriggled his brows. “So?” She smacked the cool metal into his outstretched hand. “You can drive, but if you scratch my baby, I will come get you.” She crossed in front of the hood and thanked the attendant as he closed her door. “Don’t forget, I know where you live and the security code.” Storm threw his head back and laughed. “Is that a threat or a promise? I can’t wait to get you home.” Stevie plopped down in her seat and drew her legs up. The leather of her boots screeched as she shifted to get comfortable. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t tear her eyes from Storm. He acted so calm and cool. How did a sexy man like him end up partners with an average woman like her? Or how did that jerk put it…a chunky woman. Someone wanted to play a cruel joke. Storm stared straight ahead as he stroked her thigh and she felt tingles throughout her body. She clenched her teeth to keep from moaning. She’d let her guard down in the club and had to put it back with extra reinforcements. But damn, it felt good to run with her needs
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and go after the man she wanted. She couldn’t process the whirlwind of emotions as his touch sent shimmers of desire snaking through her system. The corner of his mouth kinked. “Stevie, tell me if I’m doing something you like. I want to make you feel the way I see you—beautiful.” Stevie gasped, but any words she tried to vocalise evaporated in her throat. Her cheeks warmed. Dammit. The walls around her heart crumbled with each kind phrase and gesture. Storm pulled the Camaro to a stop in his garage and flicked off the engine. “Why so surprised with how I feel? I didn’t ask you to grow another head.” As Stevie stood and slammed the car door, she pondered his words. I want to make you feel beautiful. Butterflies fluttered through her stomach as she followed him through the garage. Stevie waited until they stood in his kitchen to give a reply. She needed air and time to think. “You won the bet, but I want a real answer. Are you attracted to me? I know we spend a lot of time together, and it’s been a while since I’ve…you know.” When he strode across the room, fire blazed in his hazel eyes. The tips of her ears burned as he appraised her body. He cupped her jaw and nuzzled her neck with feather soft kisses. “Babe, I am so attracted to you, it isn’t funny. I think about you when you leave and fantasise about you every time I close my eyes. Based on the way you reacted back at the club, I’d say the feeling is mutual.” “You sound like a stalker who needs some time in the sunshine.” To mask her shock, she used sarcasm to wave away his bluntness. Storm cocked his head and considered her. She wanted to look away from his probing gaze, but found she couldn’t. He not only saw her, but he saw through her to her soul. Everything around them melted into nothing. His brows furrowed and dimmed the desire radiating from his body. “Who hurt you?” She fumbled for a reply. Storm never wasted any time getting to the heart of the problem, even if it was the one problem she chose to bury. “What?” “You compare yourself to all those chicks in the club and you forget every man has his own set of requirements for what makes a woman hot.”
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Oh, he meant that problem. She chewed the corner of her mouth. A wild idea whirled across her mind. Why not test his desire and give her body the release it needed? He wasn’t those cops and this wasn’t a forced situation. This was two people wrapped up in a torrid wave of passion. Breathe, Stevie. Breathe. He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip to quash her answer. “Stevie, I’m a sucker for curves, an enormous heart, and eyes the colour of the sky after a thunderstorm. It seems that you possess all those, and since you’re the only woman I’m interested in, that’s damned special.” She stepped into his arms and smoothed her hands along his pecs. Her boots clicked on the oak hardwood floor. Stephanie Persing wanted this man more than life itself. “Show me. Show me how much you want me.” She nudged him to the cool steel door leading to the garage. Never let me go. Storm devoured her lips in a plundering kiss. Electricity zinged through her veins and the rest of the world dropped away. Stevie yanked the hem of his T-shirt out of his jeans and slid her palms over his taut muscles. He groaned and cupped her ass, pressing his erection between her thighs. “Let me make love to you on the couch, not thrown up against my garage door. You deserve better than a horny man bent on his own satisfaction.” She scraped her nails against his pebbled nipples. The straps of her dress dropped off her shoulders, revealing the tops of her breasts. For one of the few times in her life, she felt free and ready to give him whatever he desired, including her heart. Her reserves of courage fell dangerously low, but she ignored the urge to flee. Instead, she chose to use a snappy comeback. “What are you waiting for? Or did you change your mind?” Storm unleashed a sound, a cross between a roar and a growl. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the living room. Once there, he placed her on the sectional couch and yanked his shirt over his head. Inch by inch, the delicious curves of his chiselled torso came into view. She bit back a scream, feeling a bit like Jane once Tarzan decided to claim her. “Why here?” Stevie asked, toying with her hero.
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“Closest,” he muttered and nibbled the sensitive flesh of her stomach. He smoothed her dress down past her hips. Soon the constricting garment lay in a heap on the hardwood floor. Only her bra, panties, stockings, and boots remained. “I wanted you naked, but I don’t think I can hold out that long.” Stevie hooked her fingers in the waistband of his jeans and unbuttoned the soft denim. His cock sprang free and pointed to her like a beacon. She gasped. “You went commando tonight? A bit presumptuous, doncha think?” An impish grin twisted his lips. “I planned to get lucky.” Storm pushed her simple cotton bra over her breasts and palmed one globe. Her nipple peaked under his feather-light touch. “Holding you is damned lucky and perfect.” She wriggled in his arms and caressed his cock against her clit. The touch sent shimmers of delight through her body, concentrated between her legs. Her brain refused to shut out the thrilling sensations and her common sense told her they needed a rubber. “Condom. We need protection.” Storm fumbled in his jeans pocket and produced a foil packet. “I didn’t forget.” Stevie giggled and ran her fingernail up the vein on the underside of his dick. “Now show me what you can do with this.” While Storm slipped the barrier onto his shaft, she draped her legs around his slender waist and groaned. He took the lead from her and used the crown of his cock to tease her pussy lips. She groaned at the myriad sensations. When she wrapped her fingers around his girth, fear and apprehension coiled within her system. He wouldn’t fit. As Storm licked the sensitive spot below her ear, his breath tickled her skin. “I have to make you more ready for me, sweetheart.” His words fluttered about in her brain and his tender touches relaxed her body. He rubbed her clit then inserted his fingers into her pussy, making her shiver. Her legs akimbo, she ground against his hand. “There, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Beautiful.” Positioning his cock at her entrance, little by little, he pushed in and withdrew from her body, stretching her, filling her. Stevie gasped for breath. She started this charade with her bet. Why did she want to welch out in the middle without seeing the ending? Pain, humiliation, and fear tumbled in her brain. Memories flooded back to her—being held down, her mouth gagged. Why
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couldn’t her brain shut out that awful night back at the precinct? She forced the thought away and focused on the way he made her feel and forget. No man’s kisses tasted like his. Stevie groaned. She was in way over her head without a damned life jacket. The next time Storm slipped into her, he went all the way to the hilt. Stevie screamed, but not in pain. She felt full and light. He cleared her mind. “Storm. Oh, my God!” His thrusts increased and his kisses became rougher. His hand meandered between their bodies. He found her clit and rubbed the heated nub with his middle finger. “Damn, you’re so tight and wet. Just for me. Fuck.” Stevie angled her hips to match his ministrations. Every ripple and vein in his cock caressed her inner walls. His pubic hair rasped her clit with each push, making her more sensitive and moist. The orgasm built within in her like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Pinpricks of light shone behind her closed eyelids. She cried out as waves of pleasure crashed over her. A moment later, Storm tugged her hips in the most violent thrust. When he threw his head back, a strangled cry escaped his lips as he came. He collapsed next to her and cuddled her close. “I’m going to crush you, but damn, I don’t want to move.” His heated breath tingled on her sensitised skin. After a few minutes, he held himself up on his muscle-corded arms. “You wore me out.” Stevie revelled in his warmth and the afterglow of the best orgasm of her life. No matter how strong the instinct to flee, she didn’t want the moment to end. His breath puffed lightly over her cheeks and the heaviness of his lower body only reminded her of thick insulation against the demons in her life. If only for a short time, sex was beautiful again. She stared at the smattering of pictures on his walls and noticed she was the only person besides him in the photos. Where was his family? Sure, her family life was a mess, but at least she had parents. Would he allow her to become more in his life? To become his family? Stevie sucked in a ragged breath as realisation struck. She clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle the scream. Oh, my God! I had sex with uber-hunk Storm Richardson! And not just sex, but earthshattering, cosmic, orgasmic sex! “Yeah, but I made love to the sultry Stevie Persing.”
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She turned her head to see his smirk. “How did you know what I was thinking?” “Lucky guess.” Storm cupped her cheek and kissed her lips. Stevie grinned. Sultry. No one ever called her anything that remotely sexy. “Want to show me round two?” “In the hot tub.” Electricity surged through her veins. If he continued to make her forget, then in the hot tub indeed.
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Chapter Four
Storm watched Stevie sink into the heated water and forced himself not to drool. Surrounded by the warm oak trim and the wispy grey tile lining the hot tub, Stevie reminded him of a sexy angel. His cock returned to full mast. She didn’t realise her own beauty because she hid it under bulky T-shirts and billowy blouses. That and her parents berated her at every turn in favour of her sister Gypsy. In the nude, Stevie surpassed the Venus de Milo. Not that anyone else would see. After that explosive orgasm, Storm refused to share her. Ever. Did that make him possessive and jealous? Hell yes. Naked, he strolled across the living room and out on to the covered deck. Stevie smoothed her hair away from her face and scooted to the opposite side of the tub. “Join me?” “I insist.” Storm lowered himself into the hot water and sighed. Stevie worried the corner of her mouth. He wanted to kiss her troubles away. In her mind, he saw the conflicting thoughts bouncing around at warp speed. He wasn’t sure where to begin and he wasn’t ready to tell her he could read her memories, so he asked instead. “Baby, what’s whirling a mile a minute in that gorgeous head of yours?” As her gaze flicked over his bare chest, he felt the odd desire to inhale to make his body more impressive. His flat nipples puckered under her scrutiny. The soft voice in his head spoke again. Mate. Storm leant against the back of the tub and rested his arms on the grey granite tile frame. “Like what you see?” A rosy glow rushed into her cheeks. The steam floating up from the water couldn’t cause crimson that deep. “I do.” A foolish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. And, brother, did he love what he saw basking in his hot tub. Love? Storm bobbed his head. This was love and deep love at that. The vision of Stevie in a creamy white dress, murmuring ‘I do’ flashed like a movie scene in his mind.
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Mate. Oh yes. She’d become his wife and his mate. His everything. “I hope you’re satisfied. I’m not very skilled at sex, like most other women.” She glowed from the tops of her breasts to her hairline. “Although I’m out of practice, I know the mechanics.” Storm frowned. Out of practice? Considering his orgasm, he’d give her a perfect score for her abilities. He saw her vision of the physical ideal woman in her mind—her sister. “Why do you compare yourself to Gypsy?” A frown touched her lips and Stevie shrugged. “It’s ingrained in my psyche.” Closing his mind, he listened to her with his ears and his heart. She needed to come to him. He couldn’t barge in and seize what wasn’t up for grabs. “You feel this way because of your sister?” She nodded and stared at the oak planks of the ceiling. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if to cover her nudity. “You met my folks. Doris only wanted blonde-haired, blueeyed children. Lloyd wanted boys to roughhouse. I came too quickly and didn’t fit selected parts of the bill. Gypsy came when they were ready and fit more of the requirements. All she had to do was bat her eyes and Daddy gave in. Guys asked me on dates in order to get to her. I was second team all the way.” Indeed, he knew Stevie’s parents. Mr. All-American football jock and the local homecoming queen. They didn’t value their eldest daughter as a remarkable individual. Storm inched across the water to close the separation between them. “You’re jealous?” She stared at the glass block window on the east side of his house. “No. She got attention for all the reckless things she did and how she looked.” Her stare switched to him. “I wanted recognition for being me, simple as that.” Storm nodded and scooted next to her. “I respect everything about you.” He gathered her into his arms so her back rested against his chest. Smoothing his hands over her thighs, he secured her in his embrace. “You’re beautiful inside and out. Gypsy can’t claim that.” He understood her struggle to belong, more than she could begin to imagine. Vampires didn’t exactly fit into a pleasant societal mould. Not when creeps like Jamison
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O’Toole walked the earth. Storm forced the angry feeling down to the pit of his stomach. All he wanted now was to enjoy Stevie. The bubbles flicked around her fingers as she ran her hand over the jets. He licked his lips. Lucky bubbles. “Then how do you explain Gypsy’s triumph as Miss July in that nudie magazine?” She dropped her head back onto his shoulder. “I can’t compare to that.” His erection pressed against the crack of her ass. Storm nudged her legs open and arranged her feet around his calves, locking her in place. He toyed with the butterfly barbell she wore in her navel, her secret act of rebellion. “Stevie, I saw that picture. It did nothing for me. But you…you make me think things that no investigator should consider concerning a partner. You make my job and my dick hard. From your dark hair to your toes, I’m hooked.” She turned to gaze at him. Surprise flickered in her eyes. “What do you think about, when you aren’t supposed to?” “I think about what you’re doing and how much I want to kiss you. I think about your bravery, how you love to help others, even before you help yourself. I wonder if you’d be supportive with me. I think the answer is yes. Most of the time, I wonder what you taste like—” he pierced her slick nether lips with his index finger, making her gasp, “—right here.” Stevie moaned and panted her response. “You don’t think about baseball or the state of the union or something else neutral?” Storm grazed the throbbing bead of her clit. She smelled like sex and roses, sin and innocence. With his left hand, he plucked her nipple and drew it into a sharp point. She moaned. His skin tingled at her reactions to his touch. “Babe, you consume me and I don’t want anyone else. Just you.” He slipped two fingers into her core and stroked as her muscles clamped him into place. “You’re made for me.” “Let go.” Stevie shuddered and moaned. Her hands clawed his arms. “That’s right. Let it go and let the rush take you.” Storm nipped her earlobe and fanned kisses on her neck. “No, let go. We can’t do this.” She dug her nails into his skin and scrambled off his lap.
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“We can’t have sex?” He cocked his head. “Honey, we initiated my couch not a half hour ago. What’s so wrong about exploring each other in the steamy water?” Stevie covered her breasts and fumbled her way out of the tub. “I gotta go.” She grabbed a fluffy tan towel and raced back into the house. Perplexed by her sudden change in demeanour, Storm turned off the jets and stepped out of the hot tub. Forgoing a towel, he burst into the bedroom, soaking wet. He found her struggling into a soggy T-shirt that suctioned itself to her heaving breasts. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “What’s going on, Stevie?” Too many of her thoughts bombarded him. “It’s nothing.” She froze and her shoulders slumped. He stepped before her and rubbed her chilled arms. “Something is wrong if you run away from me.” And lie. The fear and anxiety in her head read like a billboard in his mind. Her issues lay with the incident at the New Haven Police Department. He refused to ignore her pain any longer when all he wanted was to take it away. “Tell me about that night.” “No.” The images in her mind faded to black. With her jaw set and her gaze hard, she frowned. “It’s none of your business.” Biting back a growl, he dropped his hands. She wasn’t going to block him out again. “You’re my partner. Anything that has to do with you is most definitely my concern.” “If you say so.” Stevie looked away, but her voice remained firm. “I’m not made for you. I’m not made for any man.” “Bullshit,” he spat. Storm forced his anger away and replaced his tone with softness. “If you weren’t made for me, then my cock wouldn’t point to you like an arrow every time I’m near you.” Her chin quivered and he pulled her into his embrace. “I want you to tell me what happened and don’t run from the truth.” If he could only do the same—stop running from the truth of who and what he was. Stop drinking that damned blood wine to dull the need for human blood or using his hand while he pictured Stevie satisfying him. He’d be the man Stevie needed him to be. He’d tell O’Toole to fuck off and leave the innocents alone. “I’m not running because I refuse to label myself a victim.” Stevie fisted her hands behind Storm’s back, returning his thoughts to the present.
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He smoothed his hand over her soggy hair. “Stevie, I—I talked to Lieutenant Sorenson. I know you’re a strong woman who left the force with her chin in the air. But you need to tell me why.” She raised her head. Her eyes widened. “You checked my references?” “You expected less?” Storm took her hand and sat on the bed, pulling her in his lap. Her bare bottom rested on his naked thighs. Stevie sniffled, which made him fall for her more. She oozed innocence in a time when innocence didn’t exist. “I didn’t check you out, if that’s what you’re implying, Stevie. I wanted to find out the truth.” “Did you talk to Cole and Marello?” Her eyes narrowed and her words came out clipped. “You know they won’t tell you the truth if it makes them look bad.” He shook his head. “I heard about the hazing and the abuse through the gossip channels, but no one can substantiate it because those jackasses kept their silence. Trust me, I wish I could’ve taken your place.” “I don’t want your sympathy.” Stevie raked her fingers through her hair. “And if you slept with me to play junior psychologist, I’m outta here.” Storm cupped her jaw. “I refuse to give a strong woman pity.” Her chin quivered again and he kissed her temple. “I want to be at your side, baby.” Stevie pressed her palm against her lips and stared at the carpet before she spoke. “My last night as a beat cop, I worked the Baker stabbing. When I got there, LouAnn wasn’t dead but she didn’t have much time left. I tried to comfort her in those last moments.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand and took a couple of deep breaths. “She knew she was dying and told me she’d be fine. It tore me apart inside to see her like that and to know that the EMTs wouldn’t get there in time. I didn’t know her personally, but I knew that son-of-a-bitch of a husband of hers used the knife on her. Her blood and vomit coated my uniform. When I got back to the station, I used the locker room showers.” Storm curled his arms around her and held on tight as she cried. When he closed his eyes, he saw her memories as if they were his own. Stevie dropped her head against the taupe tile wall in the NHPD locker room as the water sluiced over her skin. Tears wetted her lashes. “I should’ve checked on her earlier. Grant lied about the abuse.” She gulped air and flicked the shower handle to stop the deluge. Her sixth sense pricked and
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she scoped out the shower room. A rattling pulled her attention to the darkened half of the room. “Hello?” Evil in the form of Carl Marello and Terry Cole stepped out from behind an empty stall. “Persing, you don’t belong on the force,” Terry spat. “You care too much for your own good. Girls make shitty cops.” Carl’s voice stayed even. “You aren’t cop material and you’ll never handle vice. But you knew that.” Storm opened his eyes and focused on Stevie and the present. She placed a hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t cry about the past because it’s over, and I can’t change it.” Storm clenched his fist because he, too, couldn’t change the past. The anguish of changing innocents into vampires because O’Toole left them to flounder bothered Storm. Erin had wanted to be a vampire, but she hadn’t wanted to die in the process, never to rise again. Hell, the pain of losing his family because of the change still hurt three centuries later. He turned his attention back to now, to Stevie. She ran circles around tougher officers because of her conviction and caring. “Honey, let it out.” Storm kissed her temple. “Bottling it up won’t help.” “Marello grabbed me and Cole held me down. I blacked out while…” Stevie collapsed into fresh tears. Her voice was no more than a whisper. “They raped me.” He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Her actions made sense. Even after five years, her emotional scars remained raw. He knew now why she’d freaked when he held her down. The missionary position worked as long as he didn’t hold her too tight. When the trauma resurfaced in her mind, even he couldn’t comprehend the depths of the pain he saw there. Damn those bastards to hell. “I thought I could be a normal woman and enjoy a man. But when Ace wanted to fool around, I couldn’t. Sex, foreplay, all of it made me sick to my stomach. I pushed him away and he told me I was broken. That’s really why he fucked Gypsy.” Her voice wavered. Storm’s heart wrenched and rage boiled in his veins. She’d left the force to keep her dignity, and Ace had yanked it away in spades with insults and deception. Storm just might have to pay Mr. Herbert Axel Blake a visit.
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Storm kissed her hand. “Baby, we’ll get through this. I won’t let you down.” I love you. The words teetered on the tip of his tongue. I love you. He wanted to tell her the truth, but with the harshness of the conversation and his horn ball actions, he held himself in check. She’d never believe him. “Will you hold me? I don’t want you to think I’m whiny, I just never admitted that to anyone before.” Stevie stared at him for a moment. Relief swam in the sparkling depths of her eyes. “Please hold me.” He cupped her jaw. “All night long.”
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Chapter Five
Stevie awoke in warmth with the heavy weight of Storm’s leg draped across hers and his arm around her waist. She snuggled into his body and sighed. The woodsy scent of man and sex hung thick in the air. In one incredible night, he managed to exorcise the demons from her life and bring her closer to healing. Storm Richardson gave her a reason to live and love again. He showed her the beauty she believed was gone from her sad existence. She felt like a shiny new penny, gleaming in the sunlight. Stevie bit back a peal of mirth. If someone had told her waking up with him was this much fun, she’d have done it a couple of years ago. If she knew he’d understand and hold her as she cried, she’d have snared him the first night they met and never let go. Tingles still caressed the nerve endings in her lips from his kisses. A wave of realisation spread over her—for the first time in what seemed like forever, she’d shared her body with a man. She willingly offered her heart. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the giggles. The weight of her past wasn’t completely gone, but the heaviness on her shoulders lifted a bit and she relished the feeling. A moment later, Storm flopped onto his back and drew her attention to his body. The dusting of whiskers on his cheeks made his handsome face more rugged and sexy. His morning erection beckoned to her under the blankets. Stevie licked her lips. Did she possess enough sensuality to please him with her mouth? A white hot streak of desire combined with courage pierced her heart. Why not try to satisfy him? It might work. Stevie snuggled next to him and slid her hand along the light sprinkling of crisp hair trailing down his stomach. Storm looked thin, but as she stroked the taut flesh she realised his physical strength. He sighed, but didn’t shift positions. Under the sheet, she tangled her fingers in the soft thatch of curls guarding his cock. This time, he stirred and thrust his hips in a sign of invitation. She glanced at his face, waiting for a reaction, but his eyes remained closed. Was he awake and playing games, or still asleep? Stevie put her money on asleep and took a deep breath to fortify her nerves. With trembling hands, she moved the sheet down his torso, revealing his dick. She gazed at his
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erection and gasped. No man ever seemed beautiful, not that she had lots of firsthand knowledge of cocks, but he was amazing. The purple head bobbed and a bead of pre-come seeped from the slit. She bent and licked the clear liquid, receiving a groan from Storm. Startled, she withdrew and looked up at him. “No, baby. Keep going,” he encouraged, his voice dipping to a husky whisper. He closed his eyes and the muscles in his jaw clenched. His lips curled in a smile. “You’re killing me, but don’t stop.” Stevie swirled her tongue around the tip of his dick and regained a bit of her courage. He liked her ministrations. She fought the desire to touch herself to share the blissful sensation. “Yes.” Storm’s lips parted on a hiss and he tangled his fingers in her hair. “Let me caress you.” Her confidence soared and she shifted to give him room to touch her body. Once settled, she took more of him into her mouth, savouring his salty taste. Her breasts ached for his hands and Storm didn’t disappoint. He plucked her tender nipple, bringing a cry from deep in her throat. Electricity zinged from her chest to her pussy. “Fuck, Stevie. Yes, it feels good.” Stevie licked his cock and fondled his sac. The head of his erection bumped the back of her throat and the tiny hairs tickled her nose. He bucked and moaned, sending himself farther into her. She groaned, but didn’t relent. A freedom she never thought possible coursed through her veins. “Baby, I’m… Come here.” He reached for her. “I need to be inside you when I come.” Storm shuddered, and Stevie held on for his climax. She wanted to experience all of him, including the taste of his orgasm. They may not last as a couple forever, so why not have sweet and sultry memories to look back on later? Storm shouted his release and slumped back against the mattress. Hot seed jetted into her mouth. She withdrew and licked the slick salty offering from her lips. Pride swelled in her heart as she crawled along his body. He gasped for breath and reached for her once again, and this time, she snuggled in his arms.
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“You make sleeping in fun,” he murmured and nibbled her neck. His husky voice sent tremors through her body. “You make a pretty sexy bed warmer even.” She arched into him, giving him better access. “Blankets were optional, even if you took them all.” Storm propped himself up on one elbow. His gaze caressed her body. “I hope I warmed more than just the bed.” He caressed his index finger over each areola until her nipples puckered again. “I feel a fever coming on.” Strains of Blackest Black came from the nightstand. Stevie giggled and reclaimed the sheet. “I guess we have to go back to the outside world now, don’t we?” “Ignore it,” he bit out and returned his attention to removing the cover. When his phone silenced, her phone started up. ‘Undeniable’, a heavy metal song, blared from her purse on the large oak dresser. Storm looked up and crinkled his brows. “Why did you pick that for a ring tone?” Stevie shrugged and shifted to sit up. “Why not? I’m not a shrinking violet. I like loud music, too, remember?” She stuck out her tongue. He knew what her phone sounded like. He picked out the ring tones. Maybe he never noticed after he twiddled with the device. Maybe he didn’t care. She closed her eyes and forced her mind to stop spinning with doubt in him and his actions. He placed his hand on her thigh. “Wait. I’ll listen to my voicemail, but don’t go anywhere. I’m not done with you.” “Is that a threat or a promise?” “Both.” He pressed a few buttons on his phone and lodged the phone between his ear and his shoulder while he caressed her hair. “I’m not through loving you.” Stevie snuggled into the blankets and suppressed the goofy smile. She’d take his threats and all the sexual promises he could make. When she laced her fingers with his, he smirked then rolled his eyes. She cocked her head. “What?” He let the phone drop and disconnected the call. “The real world has indeed barged in on our erotic utopia. It seems that after we forwarded the most recent pictures to Edie Tripp, she told a woman named Noreen Davis that we gave her plenty of satisfaction.” She giggled again, but he continued, “I know. It sounded sick coming from Edie. Anyway, this Mrs. Davis wants us to tail her husband of fourteen years. The name’s Jack Davis and he frequents
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the bowling alley and Spitz Pub. She left a contact number.” Storm flipped the phone onto the nightstand and attacked her neck with renewed vigour. “What do you think? Ready for another round?” Stevie didn’t understand his obsession with her body and didn’t care. Another round of sex sounded heavenly, but the orangey cast in the room confused her. She twined her fingers in his hair and peered out the windows. “What time is it?” “Huh?” He glanced up and knotted his brows. Stevie flicked the hair falling over her eyes behind her ear. Had they slept all day? She never slept all day, even after their latest nights. She always woke around noon. “Your bedroom windows face the west. If it’s morning, then the light is all wrong. The sun doesn’t lie. Did we waste the day in bed?” “Waste?” Storm’s voice came out a bit strangled. “All my time with you is precious.” “You know what I meant. The day seemed to slip away.” Stevie blushed. “It’s early Saturday evening, I’d say.” Storm rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip and she teased it with her tongue. “We stayed up until nearly six in the morning, bad girl. I would like to think I wore you out, but your scepticism wounds me.” She grinned. They’d had a wild night she’d never forget. She’d lost her heart and her fears. “Why don’t you set up the meeting with Mrs. Davis while I get us a snack and then we can indulge in round five or is it six?” He pouted and brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “I just got started loving you and I don’t want to stop.” Stevie liked the sound of that. Loving you. Maybe he did feel the same as she did. She tossed the rumpled cotton sheet onto the floor. “How about a before and after? It is Saturday.” Storm sank down beside her. “Babe, you read my mind.”
**** As Stevie exited the room an hour later, clad in nothing but one of his T-shirts, Storm leant against the headboard and folded his arms behind his head. He crossed his ankles and
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shifted to get comfortable. The king-sized bed had never seemed so comfortable as when she lay next to him. He sighed. So she wasn’t the woman of his dreams. Who was honestly that perfect? He wasn’t. Hell, he was a damned vampire in need of sustenance. Then again, who needed ideal and plastic, when originality and a killer smile stoked his desire? Stevie suited him like no other. Like his mate. Maybe God had had a plan when she walked into his life. She could be his well-earned reward for going against vampire nature and that rat O’Toole. Joy bubbled in Storm’s heart. Maybe his life wasn’t wasted in order to appease the devil. Storm closed his eyes. The gentle sounds of Stevie rummaging through his cupboards made his heart swell. Each clunk and clang made him grin. The friendship and partnership wasn’t platonic any longer and he was damn proud. She sounded like she belonged and this was an average morning, well, late afternoon. The thought jarred him. She bought his lie when he said they’d slept all day. They had, of course, but he doubted he could be that smooth with a line the next time. She’d want to see the sunrise and stroll on the beach or something normal like that. How to answer that? Oh, honey. I'd love to wander the beach with you, but I can’t. I’m allergic to sunshine? Or how about, Ever see the witch in The Wizard of Oz? Yeah, the one that melts in the end. Well, if we venture out in the noonday sun, I’ll end up just like her. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee lingered in the air, crisp and homey. He groaned and his stomach growled. Food sounded very nice. Too bad it wasn’t enough to sustain him. He’d grab a bottle of his bloodwine a little later to tide him over—once he showed Stevie the contents of his heart and made her his mate. Her intelligence wouldn’t buy a line of malarkey. She’d want the truth. Could she understand and love him anyway? He paused. She was a long-haul type of woman. He knew her past. Hell, he lived it through her memories. Could she stick with him long enough to get beyond his fucked-up yesterdays? Mate. That voice. He wanted to curse it, but at the same time, it comforted him. Stevie respected him, but wasn’t afraid to stand up to him when he was wrong. She brought to light
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his every desire and sated them without a second glance. Then there was her body. If there was ever a woman who deserved praise for her natural beauty inside and out, it was Stevie. Mate. Who was he kidding? He loved her. Loved her enough to shop for a ring and make it legal. To have her forever in his undead life. Storm unfolded his arms and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. Damn, he was so screwed until he told her the truth. He was screwed no matter what. If she didn’t turn from him, Storm risked losing her to O’Toole. Jamison killed other vampires in order to finagle himself a harem of wives and mates. Storm vowed Stevie would never end up as a part of any harem—including O’Toole’s. I can’t lose her. “I brought you a pick-me-up. Cream and sugar, just as you like.” Storm opened his eyes to see Stevie placing two cups of steaming coffee on the nightstand. She plopped down on to the bed and wrapped her arms around him. His heart swelled and beat against his ribcage. She knew how to take care of him. “I believe I owe you a thank you.” Storm kissed the top of her head. “What did you have in mind?” Stevie looked up and smiled. Her nose crinkled. He wriggled his brows. “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”
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Chapter Six
Stevie nestled into Storm as they drove across town. The glittering lights of the city sparkled on the black hood of Storm’s Chevy truck. She took a deep breath to admire the woodsy scent of a nearby barbeque joint. The spicy pepper smell whetted her appetite. She licked her lips and sighed. They should’ve met with Mrs. Davis at Pudgy’s BBQ instead of the diner. Her hometown of New Haven wasn’t exactly rolling in high fashion. The shops along the main drag showed their age, although the owners tried their best to maintain the pleasant facades. Many buildings still bore the names of the original builders in carved relief. Green and white striped awnings and giant boxes of fresh produce decorated the windows at the Dorgan Family Grocery. The original stencilled letters and a selection of neon wigs welcomed patrons into the Cut Above Beauty Salon. The centrepiece of the town was the New Haven Empress Hotel. Four opaque oval windows peeked through ten white columns with Corinthian capitals that lined the front of the building. A wide strip of red all-weather carpeting led to the ornate bronze doors. Each time they passed the hotel, Stevie sent silent wishes that she could stay once in the elaborate building. For all the lush history, the town also bore its share of rough spots. The downturn in the economy showed in the increasing number of crumbling ‘For Sale’ and ‘Out of Business’ signs. Plywood and duct tape covered the bevelled glass windows on the old Firelands Insurance building. Potholes marred the once grand avenue that led through town. Stevie sighed. No matter how run-down and decrepit New Haven looked, she still loved it and called it home. She grew up here and would most likely die here as well, buried in the same cemetery where her grandparents rested. Storm accelerated through the green light and cleared his throat. “What are you thinking about, Stevie?”
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She blushed and turned her attention back to the man in the driver’s seat. “I wondered what it would be like to stay in the Empress Hotel,” she mumbled. “Expensive, I assume.” “We’re supposed to meet at Trixie’s Diner at eight, but why don’t we plan to stay there when the Tripp case closes?” Storm drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the current song on the radio. A combination of shock and elation slid through her. Storm never failed to surprise her. “I’ll hold you to that.” “Please do.” He grabbed her hand and placed it on his lap. “We deserve a vacation.” Stevie massaged his thigh through the butter soft denim. “Why don’t you get the table and I’ll walk the deposit to the bank? I know they won’t get it until Monday morning, but I’d rather not have that much cash in hand.” “I watch the news. Too many people would kill to get their hands on that much money. I’ll have you take it in the morning.” “In New Haven? They don’t even lock their doors.” She scrunched her nose. “The security lights are bright and I’ve got my gun. I know how to take care of myself. It won’t take me long to walk next door. I’ll be fine.” Storm parked the truck and squeezed her hand. The tingle ricocheted through her body. “I don’t like it, because I have a bad feeling. I worry about your safety, but I trust you.” “I’ll carry my mace in my pocket and my gun in my purse, so you can ignore the spooky feeling.” She kissed his cheek and lingered on the corner of his mouth. The taste of spearmint toothpaste and sheer Storm flicked on her tongue. She broke away, only to notice how his heavy-lidded gaze caressed her body. She shivered and got out of the vehicle. If they stayed in the cab much longer, the deposit would be the least of her worries. The walk to the bank was only a short distance and it felt like she floated on a cloud the entire way. Stevie grinned yet kept a cautious eye on her surroundings. Despite the low crime rate in New Haven, Storm’s hypersensitivity kicked her paranoia to a new high. She’d never had someone concerned for her safety before and that made her feel, well, grateful. She licked her lips and slipped the thick envelope into the night deposit slot. In the space of twenty-four hours, she managed to jump the threshold into a freer existence. If this
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was love, she welcomed it with open arms. Storm’s unique style of lovemaking skittered around her brain, like a sensuous filmstrip. Her pussy warmed as she thought about him. As she eased away from the building, a foreign sweet scent curled around her nose. The bakery wasn’t open this late, so the sweetness couldn’t be a new batch of doughnuts. When she turned, something cool pressed into her side. A hand clasped her wrist and jerked it behind her body. No matter how much she wanted to scream or run like hell, her police training kicked in. She clamped her teeth together. “Walk and you’ll get away alive.” Stevie swallowed hard, processing the situation. Her heart thundered and blood pounded through her veins. The husky voice stirred her curiosity and she attempted to turn to her attacker. She couldn’t reach her gun or her cell to call for help. She hoped Storm would notice her long absence and come looking for her. She blew a breath out through her mouth. If she screamed, she’d be dead. The voice sounded too darn familiar. Gulping in a long draw of oxygen to calm her frayed nerves, she channelled her inner badass. “Put the gun away, then.” “Don’t shit me, Stephanie.” The man kicked her left foot, sending a sliver of pain up her leg. No one, save for her parents, called her by the name on her birth certificate. She ground her teeth together, thankful she chose simple ballet flats for the meeting. Still, she wouldn’t give him the upper hand. She’d either be killed…or freed… She mentally shrugged. Either way, she wouldn’t be dealing with the gun-wielding idiot. Besides, it wasn’t in her to cooperate. “So where to? Or is that confidential, too?” The man tightened his grip on her wrist. The leather gloves he wore creaked. “Do as I say and look less conspicuous. We’re a couple out on an evening stroll.” “Yeah, because men lead their women around like cattle in this town.” “Shut the fuck up!” Stevie complied and her mind raced. The jerk had covered his hands so there weren’t any prints. He smelled like chilli powder and something sweet. Alcohol? Or was it candy? Someone she knew always smelled of candy—fruity candy. Her brain refused to process that information. She glanced around. They were now a block from Trixie’s between
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the bakery and The China Gourmet restaurant. Dammit, if she didn’t smell sickly sweet strawberry candy. The man shoved Stevie against a brick wall in the alley next to the Chinese eatery. The hard surface bit into her skin and abraded her back through the short sleeve cotton tunic she wore. He stood only inches from her and glared at her from the protection of a black ski mask. His gloved hands cut into her bare forearms. “Listen and this will end peacefully,” he snapped. She nodded and focused on his brown eyes. Eyes the colour of bitter dark chocolate. What was with this guy and why did he look familiar? “I know about you and Storm, but do you really know him?” He paused to catch a breath and continued, “I didn’t think so. You aren’t the same. Let me save you from him. He wants to drain you, but I’ll cherish you.” Stevie dug her teeth into her bottom lip to bite back the scream building in her throat. Not the same? What did he mean by that? She’d seen every delicious inch of Storm’s body and knew him better than her own family. He wouldn’t hurt her. But the guy holding her at gunpoint; why trust him? And where had his gun disappeared to? She snuck a glance at his body to hunt for a bulge that might be the weapon. “Why the need to protect me? I don’t know you.” He growled. “He’s not the right man for you. You want a white picket fence with babies. He’ll never give it to you. He’s not your kind.” “And you will give that to me? Let me see who you are, because I can’t believe a coward or a liar.” That sounded harsh, but she got her point across. “Better yet, just let me go.” The man growled again. “Nice try, sweet cheeks. No dice. You had the chance and threw it away when you went to the academy. I wanted to protect you and you refused.” This time she got a glimpse of straight white teeth, the kind that takes lots of money and time to perfect. She wriggled in his grasp and he held her tighter. Her circulation began to break down. Tingles shot up her arms. The scent of yeast from the bakery mixed with the salty soy and the strawberries made her nauseous. Despite the queasy feeling, she processed his statement. The only person who had objected to her becoming an officer was her father and this jerk sounded nothing like her father.
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“Focus on your job catching cheats and run like hell away from Storm Richardson. He’s a monster who doesn’t deserve a woman like you. Go home to the man who needs you.” With that, he kicked her feet out from under her body and took off in a dead run. Pebbles dug into her palms as Stevie scrambled on the ground, getting into position to aim her gun. She could still fire, but she lost her clear shot when her attacker ducked behind a parked car. Dammit. She stood and wiped the dirt and rocks from her T-shirt. Her heart beat out of control and not just from the adrenaline. Who was the lunatic who grabbed her and pinned her in a freaking alley? What did he mean? Storm wasn’t a monster. He was a superior lover and gentle human being. She loved him. Was that the problem? The bit about the white picket fence and kids stuck in her mind. She’d never planned on kids, not with the danger of her job. What man at home wanted her? Not her father. He had kicked her out the day she’d opted to become a police officer. She forced her feet to move and walked back to the diner. Behind the glass, she saw Storm in an animated conversation with a middle-aged woman sporting tight auburn curls. Stevie sat on the front bumper of Storm’s black truck and took deep breaths to calm her ragged nerves. She should go tell him what happened. Hell, she should be on the phone with the police. Somehow, her body wouldn’t agree with her mind and move. She closed her eyes, raked her fingers through her hair and retied her ponytail. Her head throbbed. When had her structured life gotten so out of control? About the same time she let her guard down and slept with Storm. Was he the connection? According to the crazy with the gun, yes. Her common sense said no. Storm made her life better. She shook her head. “He’s worth the trouble,” she mumbled. Storm’s arms suddenly enfolded her. “Stevie? Honey, what are you doing out here? I thought you were going to deposit the…” Any reserved bravery went right out the window at that moment and she wept. He held her tighter and murmured to her. “Baby, where the fuck is that son of a bitch?” She shook her head again and shoved him away. They couldn’t talk in public, even if he somehow knew what had happened. This needed sorting out in private. “Did you leave Mrs. Davis alone at the table? We should get back to her.”
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“Fuck it,” he snapped. Storm paced back and forth with one hand in his hair and one on his hip. His words came out clipped. “How did he get to you?” Stevie stared at him with moist eyes. Was this the monster version of Storm her attacker mentioned? She didn’t think so. “Storm, we can’t ignore the job.” He pulled her tight against his body and rubbed her back. “She’s gone and we tail her husband next week. But that doesn’t matter. Something happened to you and that’s more important, dammit.” She clutched his shirt and took a deep breath. “Take me home, Storm. Take me home.”
**** Storm ignored the speed limit signs until he reached the outskirts of New Haven. The playful banter they normally shared while meeting a prospective client disappeared the moment Stevie had shown up battered and distant. Dirt marred her cheek and the knee of her favourite jeans sported a tear. He smelled the dried blood on her skin and forced the craving down to the pit of his stomach. Stevie curled against him for the trip to the house and remained silent. For a moment, he saw the bastard with the gun. For a split second, he went through the ordeal with her. And now? Shut out again. His mind reeled. Stevie shared everything—her trouble with her younger sister, her father’s drinking problem, the search for her new condo, even what she bought at the store. Now that he needed her to open up to him, she’d closed down completely. He should shove into her mind and read everything, but his conscience wouldn’t let him. The baby powder scent of her apprehension mixed with her natural flowery perfume. He smelled something more, but he couldn’t think fast enough to process the information. Cherries? Kiwi? What the hell was it? Storm hated the helpless feeling. He pulled into the garage and pressed the button to close the insulated aluminium door. They sat in silence, bathed by the dim light of the garage door opener in the garage ceiling. His heart thumped. “Are you a monster?” Stevie sat up and clutched his hand. “Tell me the truth.”
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The air rushed out of his lungs. A monster? Who had forced the truth of what he was onto her? Or worse, did she believe it? God, he should be in her head right now. “Honey, I’m no fiend unless you consider a guy who sneaks around chasing adulterers a beast.” Oh, and I happen to be a vampire, but that’s nothing… He couldn’t tell her that. Not yet. She flicked a lock of loose hair behind her ear and stared into his eyes. “When I made the deposit, a man attacked me.” Storm froze, mentally knocked down to hear her verbalise the severity of the situation. The fear in her eyes and the catch in her voice churned his insides. He’d wasted time with a client while his partner risked her life for a few thousand dollars, and he’d had no idea. He couldn’t forgive himself for that screw up. “When? Who?” She picked at an invisible piece of lint on her jeans. “After I slid the money through the slot, a man grabbed me. He forced me to walk half a block then shoved me into an alley. I didn’t see his full face because of the ski mask, but he had dark brown eyes and perfect white teeth. I’d remember his voice if I heard it again—real low, like a growl.” Stevie caressed the door handle. “He reeked of strawberry candies.” Storm slid into the centre of the seat and held his arms open. Stevie scampered onto his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. “He told me to steer clear of you. He said you are a monster who couldn’t fulfil my dreams. His exact words were ‘he’s not your kind’. What does that mean, Storm?” Storm smoothed his fingers through her tangled hair. Rage boiled in his veins. The unnamed creep knew and wanted to warn her. Who the hell was this guy? There weren’t that many vampires roaming the Ohio countryside. He thought long and hard before answering. The scent mixed with her normal chemistry was strawberries. O’Toole used candy to lure his victims—strawberry candy. Jamison had tried to mark Stevie. Storm suppressed a growl and choked out the first thing that came to mind. “Baby, I didn’t grow up around here, so the guy probably wanted to scare you. Some people don’t like foreigners in their home towns.” That explanation sounded lame and he cursed under his breath. “I mean, some people have a hard time accepting change.” He bit down on his tongue. The addendum to his first
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statement sounded like something out of a ridiculous discount greeting card. Should he tell her his truths? Stevie sat up and pulled the elastic band from her hair. Mahogany curls tumbled over her shoulders. Storm gasped as she ripped the hunter green T-shirt over her head and revealed the delicate lace bra cupping her breasts. “Then make love to me, here in the truck, and prove that what we have is real.” The straps of her undergarment slipped down her arms, exposing her taut rosy nipples. “I’m tired of running and hurting. Show me how you really feel.” Storm blinked and let her words sink in. Tired of hurting? No more running? Not from her past. They’d jumped that hurdle the day before. So who was the jerk who put the fear back into Stevie’s life? Was it O’Toole? Storm’s brain swam with information both explicit and implicit. Stevie wanted love. Yes, that he intended to do. Until they collapsed. He wanted to read her thoughts, but refrained. She needed to come to him with her anxiety. Questions could wait until later. “Come here.” Stevie slid out of her jeans. Storm conjured every ounce of restraint he possessed not to stroke her naked, smooth skin and take her without delay. “You went commando?” His question came out on a gasp. A broad grin kinked her lips. “You got away with it and I wanted to see what it felt like. It’s kinda fun.” He reached around and unclasped her bra. A chuckle erupted in his throat as he sampled her skin from her neck to her collarbone. “I’m glad I didn’t know, bad girl, because we never would’ve made our meeting otherwise.” Stevie nipped his chin and feathered kisses over his Adam’s apple. “I like to surprise you.” She unzipped his jeans and cupped his erection. Storm groaned. Her hands felt like silk around his throbbing dick. “Baby, I don’t have protection. We already used the rubber I kept in my wallet.” Not that they needed protection. He couldn’t reproduce. But if a condom kept her mind at ease, then fine.
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She swiped the bead of pre-come glistening on the tip over her finger then traced the slickness over her lips. Her tongue darted out to taste him. She straddled his lap, placing his cock against her clit. “I want to feel you inside me without a barrier. I want to ride.” Her command was all the approval he needed. Storm grasped her hips and thrust himself into her in one swift motion. She rocked on his lap. Her movements surged in time with his, sending sparks from his cock to his heart. Her nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders and her pussy clamped around him. Stevie gasped and shuddered. “Oh, God!” She threw her head back and groaned. Her pale skin glowed under the dim yellow bulb shining through the moon roof of the truck. His fangs elongated in preparation for his climax. He bit the inside of his mouth to prevent biting her. She didn’t understand, and a sneak attack wouldn’t win him points. Control, but even that held on by the thinnest thread. “Fuck, yes, Stevie.” Storm salivated as he came. His blood swirled around in his mouth. His seed filled her, coating her womb. She dropped against his collarbone. “You’re going to kill me, you know,” she murmured. Her shallow breaths whispered over his sensitive skin. He tensed for a split second. “If you mean dying of happiness, then maybe, but I guarantee, I won’t kill you.” He’d change her in an instant if it meant keeping her at his side for the rest of his life. “I’d rather keep you alive forever in my arms.” Stevie kissed his Adam’s apple and hugged him close. “Why didn’t we try this before now?” “Because I didn’t want you to think I’m nothing more than a rat only interested in nailing an attractive woman,” Storm murmured. Thank God and whoever else watched over them. She hadn’t caught his earlier slip of the tongue. Thoughts raced through his mind. If he still existed in his human form, she’d most likely be pregnant. He’d have children of his own. A slow wave of sadness washed over him. He couldn’t give her babies if she wanted them. Dammit. He smoothed his hands over the delicate bones in her spine. She deserved more than he could possibly give her, but he’d fight to his death to keep her in his life. As if to rescue him from the depressive thoughts, Stevie straightened. She shivered. “Why don’t we go inside and watch the rest of the race?”
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“What race? Your stock car races usually happen during the afternoon.” He frowned. She walked her fingers up his sternum and licked her bottom lip. “Correct, but they run the August Bristol race under the lights. Judging by the dashboard clock, I’d say we have about an hour left unless they’ve had a lot of caution laps.” He tipped her chin to meet her gaze and crooked a brow. “Are you going to wear your Tucker Poston tee?” “Absolutely. How else can I cheer on my favourite driver?” Stevie’s eyes twinkled. “But nothing else.” He groaned and his erection prodded her once again. Storm tried to remove his brain from below his belt, but the idea of Stevie in little more than a flimsy T-shirt rocked his world. “You know NASCAR bores me to tears, right?” “I don’t doubt it, and I have a plan that should keep your attention just fine.” “Tell me the plan, babe.” Storm kissed her. “Get me up to speed.” She scraped his areolas with her fingernails. “You can’t watch a race without sporting your colours, but since you don’t have a favourite driver,” she nibbled her bottom lip, “you’ll be nude.” He groaned again. Hell yes. “Race you to the living room?” She nodded and kissed him hard on the lips. “The last one there has to service the other!” she screeched and slid buck naked out of the truck. Storm shuddered with pleasure and kicked out of his jeans. “Oh, baby, I intend to service you all night.” Forever in his arms and his life, if he had his way. He’d make it so.
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Chapter Seven
Hours later, Storm carried Stevie’s sleeping form to the bedroom and drew the thick curtains closed. He glanced at the alarm clock, five fifty-three. Slivers of Sunday sunshine peeked through the blinds in the bedroom. He yawned and closed out the dangerous rays. Watching the race had been indeed boring, but experiencing Stevie’s victory celebration when her favourite driver won had held Storm’s attention. His heart leapt as he thought about her lips wrapped around his cock, loving him with her mouth. She made a snoozeworthy sport the most exciting thing in the world. As he lowered himself into bed next to her, Stevie’s phone blared a song by the band, Disenfranchised Bodies. Storm glared at the aggravating device. Yes, he’d picked the song, but he never expected to hear it so often. Didn’t she believe in turning the thing down when she slept? He checked the caller ID. Who needed to call her at this hour of the morning? Restricted. Go figure. It could be her sister. It could be one of her friends. A shiver skated up his spine. It could be O’Toole. Storm flicked the phone open, but before he could answer, the caller beat him to the punch. “Stevie, you didn’t listen to me.” Storm fought the wave of rage building in his system and left the comfort of the bedroom. He knew that voice and didn’t want to wake Stevie when he lost his temper. “You went home with him after I warned you.” Storm seethed and paced the living room, bare-assed naked. “Butt out of my business, Allan. She’s my mate.” “Mate, my ass,” Allan snapped. “Storm, why are you answering her phone? Can’t bear to let her have a life of her own?” If he had another hour of darkness, Storm would consider rushing across town to beat his former friend to a pulp for interfering. “I don’t own Stevie, but she’s still asleep. Now tell me, why did you warn her against me?”
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“Because she deserves more. I knew you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself and your dick in your pants. Who’s going to explain to her that you can’t reproduce and don’t live like her suburban friends? You never thought that far ahead.” “I think about her all the time. I know her needs,” Storm bit out. “She doesn’t want any of that. Stevie wants me.” “Oh really? And did she come right out and tell you that she reciprocates your lusty we’re-good-for–a-couple-of-night-then-shove-off-‘cause-I-don’t-do-commitment feelings? I doubt it.” “I read her thoughts. Her scent marked me. I’ve changed. I’ll take no other.” Storm raked his fingers through his hair. “You know you can’t hold onto her forever. She’ll want to grow old together. What are you going to say? Honey, I don’t age. Isn’t it great? While you turn into a bag of wrinkles and liver spots, I’ll still look thirty?” Allan growled on his end of the line. Storm pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “So you threatened her with a fucking gun to get her to leave me? That kind of shit won’t get your point across. She sat on my truck and cried, asshole. She won’t admit it, but she’s scared to death.” Allan gasped. “Gun? Hell, no. Two nights ago, I told her to watch out for your roving eyes. Remember, at the Chatty Catty when you locked lips with Peggy Harriel? I mentioned that to Stevie. She laughed it off.” Storm levelled his shoulders. This ridiculous argument needed to cease, if for no other reason than he wanted to cuddle the only woman who made his battered heart beat. “You didn’t tail her with a gun?” “Storm, you know me better than that. We fought the frickin’ Civil War together on opposing sides, and I still didn’t take your ass out when Longstreet ordered me to. I just don’t want to see you hurt her.” Storm sat in his treasured leather easy chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Look, your plan backfired. She’s staying with me, which is perfect because I love her. I can’t predict our future, but I do know I won’t take another lover. Stevie’s it.” The phone connection crackled. “Wait. You said a gun, Storm. What happened with the gun?”
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Storm recalled the incident. He scratched his forehead. “I don’t know who the person is and I’m afraid for Stevie. I know she can handle herself, but I don’t want a crazy gunman chasing her because of me, Allan.” “O’Toole’s crazy enough with revenge to want to try something like this.” “I agree, but I can’t locate him. I thought I saw him, or someone who looked an awful lot like him, at the club, but I can’t sense him at all. When Stevie came back from the bank, his scent was all over her. Strawberries, the fucker.” “I didn’t see him the other night, but that sounds like him. He probably wanted to play the role of the consoling friend so she’d leave you and run into his arms. But I don’t see why he needed the weapon.” “To put me in my place. He hates that I changed all those souls he left to rot. His way of getting back at me is to steal the only person that matters to me.” Storm picked at a button on the arm of the chair. “Then this thing between you is real?” “As real as the change, the need for blood and our fangs, buddy.” Storm nodded. “I’ll let it go, but I’m warning you. If it’s not Jamison, then someone out there figured us out and they want us gone.” Allan sighed. “Don’t mix her up in that unless you’re willing to put her through the change or take a silver bullet for her, Storm. Jamison O’Toole won’t back down.” Storm clenched his teeth. Allan had a point, even if he wasn’t ready to concede. “I’m willing to take that risk.” I just have to believe she’ll still love me when it’s all over. “Then I’ll call Todd to alert him. We’ll help you in whatever way we can,” Allan replied. “Are you coming back to the Chatty Catty soon?” “We gotta tail Bruce once more and follow another man, but I think a small vacation might be in order.” With a sidebar in Las Vegas… “Good for you man.” Allan laughed then sobered. “Think about what I said. She’s a special woman. Don’t screw this up.” “I think about her all the time But I won’t mess things up. Now, go to sleep before the sun comes up and bakes you to a crisp.” Or I come over there and kick your ass for butting in. Storm snapped the device shut. He tossed her phone onto the kitchen table and flexed his hands to work out the tension. A knot the size of Cleveland twisted up his guts. Guilt
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flooded his mind. Stevie was yet another innocent Jamison O’Toole wanted to use for his own devious pleasure. Storm drew air into his lungs. And if there was another person out there who wanted them apart… Storm leaned on the counter and dropped his chin to his chest. He needed sleep and he needed to explain everything to Stevie. She might deserve better than a world-weary vampire, but he couldn’t walk away if forced. Tomorrow, he’d tell her everything and pray she didn’t run away screaming. He couldn’t fail to show her his heart and protect her from the evil in the world.
**** Stevie awoke and checked the alarm clock, seven forty-eight p.m. Crap. She rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to spend that much time in bed—again. She glanced at Storm who lay flopped on his stomach and practically dead to the world. He grunted in his sleep and turned over on his side, giving her a gorgeous view of his back. She longed to drag her nails down his smooth skin, but refrained. He needed his sleep, too. She and Storm had another long night ahead of them if they wanted to catch Bruce and Cherylyn in the act. Stevie stood and stretched. She considered a wrap, but shrugged. Who was she going to run into anyway? Storm never got visitors because he refused to tell anyone where he lived, and no one knew where she was. No one really cared. Her stomach grumbled, announcing her need for sustenance. She grabbed one of his clean T-shirts from the dresser and headed to the kitchen. She noticed her phone on the table and scrunched her brows. Hadn’t she left it on the nightstand? Stevie picked up the item in question and checked the screen. One missed call. She pressed the buttons to retrieve the call when another came in. “Crap,” she muttered and hit the send button. “Hello?” “Did you run away for good?” Stevie squared her shoulders. Her sister. “I found a special someone to occupy my time.” “A boyfriend?” Gypsy giggled. “Yes.”
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This time, Gypsy shrieked. “Who? Did I meet him? Is he hot? Wait. Let me rephrase. Is he hot by my standards? You date nerds.” Stevie rolled her eyes as she processed the rapid-fire questions. “Yes, you met the incredibly hot Storm.” “Storm? How did you manage that? He’s out of your league!” Stevie plopped down onto the leather easy chair and massaged her temple. Storm’s unique spicy scent enveloped her, and she smiled. “Who do you believe is in my league, if I might ask?” “Well, I thought Ace was… Or that guy, what was his name… Craig, that’s it, Craig.” Gypsy sighed. “Admit it. You need a man who works a nine-to-five job who’ll come home for supper, cut the grass on the weekends, and play with your two perfect children. Craig fit the bill in his boring, yuppie way.” “That’s not true,” Stevie snapped. It wasn’t true now she was with Storm, anyway. Did Gypsy know the mystery gunman, were they in cahoots? She shoved the disturbing thoughts aside. “Craig had commitment issues.” “Yeah, he was almost thirty and still lived with his mom.” Gypsy snorted. “A man like Storm is dangerous. You crave stability. Why do you think you dated that lame-o, Darin Newsome? Because he was totally dorky and safe.” “Gypsy!” Stevie opened and closed her mouth. No other words came to mind. As much as she hated to admit it, her sister knew her too damned well. Gypsy paused, almost like she needed to preface her next accusation with some grand speech. “Do you love him?” Her voice had dropped an octave. The corners of Stevie’s mouth curled. “I think so. He’s more than I’ve ever wanted and better than I dreamed. I’m scared that I need him too much, but I wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything.” Her sister shrieked. “Sounds to me like you’re convinced he’s the one! I’m so happy for you.” Stevie gulped oxygen. One thing hung in the air like a storm cloud. “Are you planning to sleep with him, too?” “Nope. I wanted to keep you safe from Ace the Ass. He’s just that—an ass, plain and simple.”
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Stevie took the phone from her ear and stared at it for a full minute. Was this really her selfish baby sister on the other end of the line? The caller ID said so. Stevie replaced the device. “Is this my sister or is this an imposter?” Gypsy laughed. “It’s me. Look, people expect stupid things from me because I’m unpredictable. But you! You’re the smart one who plans things. You didn’t need his theatrics in your life. Plus, I wanted you to show me that you haven’t drifted into complacency. You and Storm belong together, like you’re cut from the same oddball cloth or something. You’re good together, no jokes or lies.” Stevie narrowed her eyes. Despite the positive vibe, something rubbed her wrong. Her sister didn’t have a kind bone in her body. “Why are you being so nice to me? This isn’t like you.” “Stevie, I screwed up this sister thing for too long. I know we’re opposites, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be sisters. I waited too long to realise that and I’m not letting another second go by without telling you I love having you for a big sister, even if you organise the hell out of fun.” Stevie grinned. A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away with the sleeve of Storm’s shirt. “Thanks, Gypsy. I love you, too.” Gypsy snorted. “Enough greeting card lingo. I’m tired of being depressed. Let’s dish. Are you naked with him?” Stevie laughed out loud. “Yes and no. I’m wearing nothing but his shirt in his living room.” She sobered. “If I were naked with him, I wouldn’t be on the phone with you.” Static crackled as Gypsy shrieked again. “I knew it. Awesome. You finally loosened up. Now, does he have any hot private investigator buddies and can I have your apartment?” “You don’t waste time,” Stevie replied. “Now why are you upset? You don’t get depressed.” “It’s nothing. So, when’s the big day?” “You change topics too fast. What big day? ” “The wedding. Storm needs to snap your ass up, right now. Oh, and I insist on being the maid of honour. I assume you’ll go to Vegas and make it legal quick.”
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Stevie glanced at her left hand. No engagement band decorated her finger, although Gypsy’s idea did sound appetising. “I guess we’ll both have to find out. He hasn’t told me he loves me.” “He will. I can feel it, but you can’t rush him. You can’t rush any man, ever.” Gypsy paused again. More static crackled on the line. “Now on to more exciting topics. Me.” Stevie shook her head and curled her legs under her rump to get comfortable. At least she had her sister back in her life. Maybe Storm would pop the question. Maybe he wouldn’t. Still, she didn’t see him as a monster and certainly wanted to be a part of his life for the long haul, danger and all. A ripple of excitement and desire slithered down her spine. Yeah, she loved him. Now all she had to do was tell him the good news.
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Chapter Eight
The next night, Stevie smoothed the crinkles out of the flimsy paper placemat and shuffled the paperwork needed for the night’s meeting. The greasy scent of cooking bacon and eggs impeded her senses and made her stomach rumble. She rubbed her midsection to quiet the irritating sound and studied the diner. Strains of Vinnie Joel’s ‘Crash and Burn’ filtered through the air as background noise amidst the clinking of silverware and gentle conversation. She and Storm regularly met here to touch base with clients, and the simple establishment felt like a second office with an included cafeteria. White walls decorated in black and white photographs of people from the 1950’s eating at an unknown lunch counter surrounded the two dozen dark cherry, or maybe oak, booths. She wasn’t sure and didn’t care. Well worn, the Formica tabletop was faded in spots while permanent graffiti showed despite vigilant attempts at scrubbing it away. Stevie crossed her ankles and glanced at the heavyset, balding cook placing completed orders on the shiny steel window ledge. Her stomach rumbled again. She sipped her water, knowing it wouldn’t fill her up. Soon, she and Storm could go home. Stevie bit the inside of her cheek. Was his house really her home? Did he want her around that long? The long-term relationship vibe was there, but what if he only wanted a few nights and wanted to play with her heart? She closed her eyes and forced her attention from the sinking feeling in her chest to the case at hand. Storm shifted and wrapped his arm around Stevie. Heat from his embrace enveloped her, drawing a soft sigh from deep in her throat. He drummed his fingers on the wooden booth seat and tapped his feet to a song only he knew. “I don’t feel right about this meeting, babe. Something’s off. It’s like we’re on the edge of something pivotal, but I haven’t a clue what. Maybe it’s time to get out of the private investigation game. Think we can exist on love for the rest of our lives? I could make a living out of loving you.”
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Stevie snorted and closed the manila folder full of pictures of Cherylyn and Bruce. Trust Storm to make a silly joke during a serious time. She kissed Storm’s cheek. “Whatever’s wrong, we’re in this together. I heard you talking in your sleep this afternoon. I’m not sure about the job, but nobody will take me from you.” When Storm acted edgy, she did too, so this time she tried to put on a brave face despite the way the scent of burnt toast made her stomach churn. “Spending day and night making love sounds like a hell of a time, but I doubt the money will hold out.” She turned as the waitress neared. “Food’s here.” The blonde server placed the plates on the table, but didn’t leave. Storm shovelled a spoonful of chilli into his mouth. Stevie rolled her eyes and elbowed him. As long as he had a full stomach, the rest of the world didn’t exist. She smiled. “We’re good, thanks.” Without warning, the waitress dropped into the opposite side of the booth. She shoved her pencil behind her ear. “You don’t remember me, do you?” Stevie and Storm exchanged confused glances. “Should we?” Stevie asked. The girl looked familiar, but then again, Stevie ran into myriad people while she and Storm worked an enquiry. “I’m new here, but not at the clubs. I’m the blonde who offered her body for one evening a couple of nights ago at the Chatty Catty.” The girl wound a lock of hair from her ponytail around her finger. Stevie nodded. Oh, yeah, the pushy chick with more clothes than brains. A pang of jealousy and protectiveness streaked through Stevie. She dug her nails into Storm’s thigh. What could this woman possibly want? To make yet another move on him? Storm cleared his throat and twined his fingers with Stevie’s. “And your name is?” “Leticia, but my friends call me Lettie.” The waitress tore a napkin into pieces. Storm dropped the spoon and pointed to himself. “I’m Storm Richardson and this is my partner, Stevie Persing.” Stevie bit her bottom lip to suppress a snappy comeback. She wanted to shout that she and Storm were involved… But for how long? She didn’t know and would make a point to ask him the next time she cornered him alone. No need for jealousy if they weren’t a couple. “Look, I don’t normally proposition men in line at the clubs.” Lettie balled the torn napkin and shoved a couple of flyaway strands of hair behind her ears. “It was a bad night and I feel awful about intruding.”
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“No harm done.” Storm bit into his club sandwich. Stevie forced a pleasant smile. No harm right now, but if the chick continued to hover, there might be words. She locked her jaw. Jealousy didn’t suit her. She glanced over at Storm. He continued to munch on his sandwich, oblivious to the waitress. If he didn’t care, then she wouldn’t either. When she took a second look at him, she notices a smattering of mayonnaise dotting the corner of Storm’s mouth. Stevie tamped down the sudden urge to lick it. As she offered a napkin, he nodded. “Thanks, babe.” Lettie drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “You two look so cute together, like you belong together. I…I shouldn’t have barged in like that. My momma raised me with some manners, although sometimes it doesn’t show. Please forgive me.” Stevie considered Lettie for a moment. The chick acted as if she told the truth, but something didn’t jive. What did this girl care if they got along? Stevie swallowed her pride and her uneasiness. She grinned. “I admire your honesty. Apology accepted.” “It’s cool.” Storm squeezed Stevie’s hand. Lettie blushed. “Thanks.” She glanced at the counter and stood. “I have to go. It was nice to meet you without groping you. If you need anything, let me know.” Storm cupped Stevie’s chin. The warmth seeped into her skin and pooled between her thighs. Forget the rest of the world. No one else matters except Storm. She sighed. They may not last forever, but she’d never trade the experience. The woodsy scent of his cologne wrapped around her like a lover’s embrace. So did his husky voice. He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re in a forgiving mood. Two days ago, you wanted to claw her eyes out. What’s changed, babe? Or is my red-hot lovin’ the reason for your mirth?” Stevie dropped her head to his shoulder. Time for her own brand of honesty. The unabridged truth or a partial confession? Better not hit him with terms like committed relationship and the L word. “I talked to Gypsy. She asked to reconcile our sisterhood. It’s like she knew something and wanted to make amends. She’s depressed and I’ve never known that girl to be sad a day in her life. I’m half afraid that she’s into something bad and she wanted to clear her soul.”
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Like I want to clear mine. Storm gagged on his sandwich and Stevie pounded him on the back. “What’s wrong with you? It’s no big deal with Gypsy,” she muttered. “Nothing to get choked up about.” Her laughter fell flat when his complexion paled. “Storm?” “What did you talk about?” He shook his head and coughed. A rogue tear streaked from the corner of his eye, probably from gagging. “Storm, I can tell you’re on edge. Want to clue me in or am I supposed to read your mind? You haven’t said much since we left the house tonight. What happened after we went to bed?” Stevie wiped the wetness from his cheek and chewed her bottom lip again. Passion and fear swam in the dark depths of his eyes. She’d gauged his reactions and emotions well enough in the past, but now she wasn’t sure. Storm never said anything about keeping the blossoming relationship a secret. Didn’t he want her to tell others of their involvement? Did he want nothing more than a fuck friend? A lead weight formed in the pit of her stomach. Storm waved the distress away like a pesky fly. “I had one of my occasional bad dreams. I guess you probably heard me, but it’s nothing to worry about. Just my overactive imagination and too much caffeine before bed.” Stevie swallowed her terror and decided to make a joke of the situation. “You tell me not to fret until the next disaster strikes.” She giggled. “What will it be this time? A grenade? A stabbing? Or are we gonna duel with pistols at fifteen paces? I love a good sword fight, you know.” “Ah, the pirate movie is your favourite.” Storm elbowed her ribs and kissed her temple. “I can think of a great way we can duel that involves tongues, kissing and plenty of foreplay. I’m so hard I could pound nails into concrete.” Stevie walked her hand up his thigh to the telltale bulge in his jeans. She stroked Storm enough to elicit a groan. He twined his fingers with hers. “That’s a good start, babe.” Her heart swelled and her stomach quieted. She tamped down the remaining uneasiness and returned to her dinner, albeit one handed. “As for the phone call, Gypsy and I talked about a lot of things, including you. She’s happy for me.” He narrowed his eyes and dropped the spoon, mid-bite. “Really?”
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“We came to an understanding.” Stevie kissed Storm on the cheek. “But that’s fodder for later, because I see Edie and we have work to do.”
**** When Storm loped out of Trixie’s, he wrapped his arm around Stevie and led her to the truck. His heart and cock surged for the woman in his embrace. How fast could he drive home? At the same time, forever feelings clouded his mind—love, marriage, devotion. Oh, yeah, he’d tie the knot with her in a hot minute. Storm glanced at Stevie. He kissed her temple and breathed in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the rosy aura of her arousal. He could bask in her sweet scent for days—at home, in bed. When his phone beeped, he let go of Stevie and slipped the device from his pocket. Stevie yanked her door open. “Text message?” Storm stared at the screen. Jamison O’Toole. He gritted his teeth and punched buttons to retrieve the message, but the body of the text revealed nothing. Blank. Dammit. “Are you listening to me?” Storm blew out a long breath and climbed into the truck. “I’m sorry, babe. What did you say?” Stevie continued her monologue and Storm tuned her out as he drove home. He felt bad for ignoring her, but the blank text left him bamboozled. He clenched the cell in a tight fist. O’Toole knew how to get under his skin without a word, apparently. Storm wriggled in his seat to stuff the phone into his back pocket and pulled into his garage. He needed to keep his friends close and Stevie even closer. “Should I call Bobby Miller to set up surveillance at the Starlight?” Stevie folded her arms and stared at him. “Or should I run naked down Folger Avenue during rush hour to see if anyone notices?” Storm pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, honey. I wasn’t paying any attention again, but no, I won’t call Bobby. I want Todd Falco to help with any electronic spy work. He’s better with the mini cameras. And no, I don’t want you to run naked anywhere because I’d have to chase your sweet ass until you scream my name in ecstasy.”
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He couldn’t let a jerk like O’Toole take over his life, not when Storm had the warm, wonderful and completely sexy Stevie in his home. He needed to screw his head on tight and fast! “Okay. You win. Are you going to shower with me?” Stevie snorted, but the sound didn’t mask her slight laugh. “Get the water nice and steamy. I’ll meet you there, but first, I have to make a call.” Stevie shrugged and walked into the house. Storm followed hot on her heels to watch her ass sway. Oh yeah, she had a beautiful butt. He licked his lips. Once he told O’Toole to fuck off, Storm could sample her sweetness for the rest of the night and next day. Storm dialled his nemesis and waited for the call to connect. “O’Toole.” “So you’re back in the dating game? You do have excellent taste.” Jamison cackled. “I might have to imbibe.” Storm growled. “I don’t have time for nonsense. I’m no longer your minion. In fact, I never was. I don’t buy into your bullshit.” “Ah, but you are my child and you do buy into my teachings. All the creatures of the night, whether good or evil, are part of my grand scheme.” O’Toole’s smarmy tone rankled Storm’s nerves and sent a sharp pain through his head. “Enough. I quit the debauchery in order to clean up after your ruthless acts. Those people didn’t want to lead the life of the vampire. They weren’t finished living their mortal lives, but you chose to take that away, O’Toole. And for what? Your damned bloodlust.” Jamison’s arrogant mood changed. His voice dropped an octave. “You’re still trying to be noble. Well, I can’t wait to meet your new…friend. I’ve never tasted a cop before. She smelled sweet and unfettered.” “She’s not up for sharing and I won’t turn her.” Storm suppressed the urge to scream or pitch the phone across the room. He refused to allow O’Toole the upper hand. Storm peeked down the hall to check on Stevie. Steam billowed from the open bathroom door. The slapping of water on tile and her smooth alto voice met his ears as she sang. Was it an old Bon Jovi tune? Or Def Leppard? Didn’t matter. She sounded beautiful. The rosy scent of her body wash filtered over his senses and he grinned. He liked her just the way she was—not a vampire.
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O’Toole growled and brought Storm back to the call. “Then heed my warning, Richardson.” Jamison’s rumble vibrated Storm’s chest. He ground his teeth together to bite back a remark he’d regret. Fuck. “Once she finds out your true nature, she’ll bolt. You can’t protect her when she’s not with you.” When Jamison paused, a shiver slipped up Storm’s spine. “Trust me, I’ll find her. Hell, I did already, but the next time, I’ll make her beg me to fuck her.” The soft puff of Jamison’s breath echoed on the other end of the line. “She’ll plead with me to turn her so she can stay in my bed. You’ll see. I’m always right.” “Then it was you,” Storm snarled, unable to hold back the torrent of anger and frustration. “Keep your fucking hands off of her.” “Guard your possessions better next time, because once she samples O’Toole, she won’t want any other tool.” Jamison laughed and disconnected the call. Storm dropped his phone and clenched his stomach. Wave upon wave of nausea crashed over him as he knelt to retrieve the phone. If Stevie did leave him and O’Toole made good on his threats, then she’d be in more danger than any man could handle. Storm couldn’t expose her to O’Toole’s sadistic treatments. He couldn’t lose the woman he loved. Storm shoved the phone into one of his desk drawers and strode to the bathroom. Flashes of his nightmare floated around in his brain. Stevie screaming. Stevie crying. Stevie in a pool of grey blood. Stevie following O’Toole like a puppet. Storm pounded his fist against the hallway wall and fought back a feral cry. Only vampires bled out in grey blood—dead blood. Tell her tonight. Yes, he’d do just that. Tonight. Storm went back into the master bedroom. The water stopped and he strained to hear any of her movements. Stevie sashayed out of the room, dressed in one of her garish racing T-shirts, with a laundry basket tucked under her arm. Her bare feet peeked from the cuffs of her faded blue jeans. She looked adorable when she wanted to be domestic. He grinned despite his bleak mood. “What are you doing, honey?”
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“What does it look like? I’m folding your clothes.” Stevie dropped the basket on the bed and dumped the contents. “I know what’s coming, so don’t call me honey.” “It’s one-thirty in the morning. No one does laundry at this time of night.” He frowned and scrubbed a hand over his hair. “What are you talking about, Stevie? What’s coming?” Three hundred years of misdeeds played in his head like an awful highlight reel. Stevie’s anger smelled like Tabasco sauce and her fear skittered up his spine as if it were his own. Their connection was already too strong. He couldn’t lose the woman who completed him—even if she refused to clue him into her sour mood. She placed a crisp button-down shirt on the pile and reached for a pair of his boxer shorts, naturally the threadbare ones he needed to replace. “This is the point where you start getting mysterious phone calls and leaving me alone. I know the drill. This is goodbye time.” The wind rushed from his lungs. “Goodbye time? We just got started. I can’t let you go.” O’Toole’s words zapped him like one thousand watts of electricity. She’ll plead for me to turn her. “Storm, I’m usually the one calling so you can get out of entanglements with women. I know how you work. This is my turn to ride off into the proverbial sunset so the next woman can ride in. I didn’t think it would come to this, but it has, so I’m out.” Stevie squared her shoulders and grabbed a sock from the basket. Leave him? Next woman? No more. No others, ever. His heart slammed against his ribs. Angry tears pricked his eyes. “No.” “I can feel something bad about to happen. I’m not usually a clingy woman, but our attachment at the hip the past few days is getting to be too much for you.” She swallowed and walked a stack of shirts to his dresser. “I’ll finish this up and see you tomorrow at the office, unless I need to shop for a new job.” Storm stepped behind her, but she squirmed away from his grasp. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Storm.” Her voice cracked. Storm wasn’t sure what to say and let the first words fall from his lips. “If you’re planning to leave, then why are you folding my clothes?” He bit his tongue. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Tell her you love her.
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Stevie dropped her head and shoved a lock of hair behind her ear. “I needed busy work. I can’t hold still when I know something ghastly is about to happen.” Her hand trembled and a tear spilled down her cheek. “Us. That’s the dreadful thing. We shouldn’t have happened because we work so close together. Look, I don’t want to walk away, but you do, so we’re at that juncture. I’m a big girl, pardon the pun. I can handle the heartache if you break me quickly.” Storm reached out to dry her tears, but she elbowed him away. He clenched his fist and made himself think through what he needed to say. Her reasons weren’t the reasons they shouldn’t be together. He was a creature of the night and she was his angel. Dammit. Breaking her heart wasn’t on his list. Her spunk endeared her to him more and more each day. “What if I told you that I need you more than the air I breathe, Stevie?” Or the blood I drink? “What if I came clean about the bad things you think are upon us?” And told you what I am? She sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her arms. “I’ll listen.” Storm choked back tears. Her nerve and determination would be the end of him, yet he wouldn’t have her any other way. The truth would set them free or sentence them to death. He knelt before her and took her hand, twining their fingers together. “Honey, there’s a man who wants me dead.” Well, as dead as the undead could be… “Dead?” Her face paled. “Why?” He stared at the ground. How to tell her about the devil’s most determined minion? “There’s a man named O’Toole who, shall I say, isn’t real fond of me. A few years ago, I went against his orders and helped some people who needed assistance.” He gazed at her angelic face. “He vowed revenge and I stay out of his way to keep my being intact.” “Jamison O’Toole?” A lock of her rich, dark hair fell over her eyes. “Thinning blond hair, ice blue eyes, and a scar on his cheek—like someone tried to bisect the side of his face with a blunt knife?” “The one.” This time, Storm felt the heat rush from his cheeks. His knees weakened. He sat down hard on his feet, shocked to hear her describe his arch-enemy. She knew him! “How do you know that monster?”
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Stevie shrugged. “Mother set him up with Gypsy. Although he’s not much to look at, he has money and she wanted one of us set for life. Gypsy and Jamison had a fling, but it never went further, she didn’t jive with the twelve-year age difference. He gave me the creeps when he came to the house, but I never said anything. I didn’t think it mattered. They hook up from time to time for friends with benefits purposes. I think I saw him at the Chatty Catty. He likes to dance and hit on women.” Storm’s mind worked overtime. There was the damned link. Jamison knew about Storm because Jamison was his sire. He knew to warn Stevie because he’d befriended her mother and father. He fucked her sister and had seen Stevie and Storm together at the club. Could that be why Gypsy made amends? The need to be with Stevie and protect her trumped any open cases they had and any ill will he felt towards Jamison. The bastard wanted to change Stevie for his own use or at least to taunt Storm. Like hell. “How often does he visit your sister?” She shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her.” Stevie bit the corner of her mouth. “I avoid him at all costs. Why?” The unanswered question sat between them like an unwanted guest. “She’s got a thing for you, you know.” She folded another pair of navy boxer shorts and balled a pair of socks. Her lips formed a tight line. Sleep with Gypsy? He’d rather drink straight wine. “I disagree.” “Should I call her for you? I know I’m not as exciting as she is.” Stevie cocked a brow and tossed another ball of socks into the basket. Enough was enough. He refused to wait or give her more line. Storm removed the T-shirt from her hands. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, but it makes me feel ten feet tall.” He brushed a damp lock of hair behind her ear, stroking the smooth skin of her jaw. “Why? Because you know you’re sexy and women want you?” She furrowed her brow. He chuckled. “It has nothing to do with my looks. It’s because you care enough about me to feel jealous. You don’t want to share and it’s a damn good thing. I refuse to share you. You are the only one I want.”
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“Then why the hush-hush call? You have to trust me if you want a personal relationship with me.” Stevie toyed with the rim of the tan basket. He pulled her close, stroking her hair and kissing her temple. “I trust you more than you know.” His heart thundered in his chest. “I’m afraid I’m the reason Jamison wants to hurt you. I think he’s the one who attacked you. I’d give my life to make sure you’re safe because you mean too much to me.” She stared deep into his eyes. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Although he is creepy, Jamison’s not violent.” “He’s very violent, babe.” Storm dragged air into his lungs. He sat on the bed and tugged her onto his lap. “And he’s got a jealous streak a mile wide.” She straightened her spine and licked her lips. “So how do we stop him? He’s not allowed to take you out on my watch.” Storm nudged the clothesbasket to the floor, spilling the contents. “Oops.” “Storm.” Stevie shrieked. He kissed away her protests and she melted into his embrace. Her hands twined in his hair, cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer. Storm nipped and nuzzled a path from her lips to her throat. Her jugular vein pulsed under his tongue. He shivered at the temptation. Not yet. “Storm, how do you do this?” She whimpered in his arms. “How do you make me want you when just moments ago I wanted to leave you?” “I only give you the same reaction you elicit in me. I can’t breathe without you.” He slipped a hand under her shirt to caress her breast and tweak her nipple. Stevie groaned and arched into him. Her hands clawed at his T-shirt. Despite the thin barrier of cotton, her nails left shallow scratches on his bare back. He flipped her onto the bed and popped the button on her jeans. “I need you, Stevie.” She wriggled the denim past her hips, down her legs, and kicked them out of the way. She wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him to her. “Make love to me.” Storm ripped the shirt over his head in lightning quick speed and disengaged from her grasp. “Indeed, babe. Indeed.” He stepped out of his boxers and jeans in one swift move. Before she could breathe, he entered her, pushing to the hilt. Storm grasped her hips, thrusting and savouring her body.
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She gasped and bit her bottom lip. The skin turned white from the force. He kissed the corner of her mouth. His tongue swiped over the tiny knick on her lip. The sweet taste of her blood rolled around on his tongue. His hips jerked forward, driving towards an instantaneous orgasm. He licked his teeth to stave off his hunger. His fangs elongated and his mouth watered. Tell her. Storm surged into her once more. The head of his cock kissed the entrance of her womb. Stevie screamed and bucked beneath him. She gripped his bare shoulders. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He gasped at the force of the second orgasm and joined her in falling over the ragged edge. “Fuck, Stevie.” She closed her eyes and panted. Her breasts heaved with her shallow breaths. Her nipples teased his sensitive chest. He tumbled to the mattress next to her, processing the thoughts in his head. One taste of Stevie would never be enough. Storm grabbed the comforter. He tossed the thick covering over their fevered bodies and wrapped his arm across her stomach. She nuzzled his neck, snuggling into his embrace. God, he loved making love to Stevie. He kissed her forehead. Make-up sex rocked him to his core and this wasn’t even a major argument. Then again, he hoped they never had a serious fight. Stevie wriggled in his arms then settled. Her soft breath warmed his neck. He stroked her hair. Screw O’Toole. If she left him, he’d worry about her and follow as a shadow—for her protection. Storm rubbed his eyes. The clock on the nightstand read four-oh-six a.m. Not quite his bedtime, but after making love to her, he needed the rest. He blew out a long breath. Tonight, he’d put his heart on the line and confess his love. She’d know the truth and they could move forward with their lives—together. Tonight.
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Chapter Nine
Fourteen hours later, Storm drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of Todd Falco’s dusty grey surveillance van. He yawned. Spending the last couple of days making love to Stevie without slaking his bloodlust wore him out. Thanks to preplanning, he had a stash of blood wine at home to get him through. As soon as he closed the case, he planned to spend an entire week in bed with her to prove his devotion. She meant more to him than anything. “How much more proof does she need that Bruce is cheating?” Stevie fidgeted in the passenger seat. “I mean, we gave her the pictures and the video footage. We caught him practically in the act of doing it.” “The checks are good and we’ll keep on until she’s convinced.” Storm shifted to stretch. The truck had more leg room, but the marks knew his vehicle. “I just hope she believes us soon. I’m tired of spending every night watching them when I could be enjoying you.” Stevie dropped his hand. “I agree.” She raised the camera from her lap and adjusted the focus. “Soon, we can spend quality time together.” “See something?” Storm licked his lips, dying for a taste of her and not the scent of frying chicken coming from the convenience store. Soon wouldn’t come fast enough. The shouts of revellers and gun shots from a block over rumbled in the air. The acrid scent of someone peeling out of the parking lot hung in a thick cloud. Go figure; too many people drunk with guns and wanting to party. “Beside the regular party crowd and the tire smoke, I see Todd on the stoop next to their favourite room and a clear shot of the lobby if I pan to the right.” She nodded and twisted the lens. “He’s a great passed out drunk, but he’s almost too handsome.” “Handsome, huh?” A twinge of jealousy swirled through his brain for a moment, but he forced it aside to act nonchalant. “I didn’t think you noticed him.” Stevie snickered and patted his leg while looking through the camera. “Just because I look, doesn’t mean I want to buy the goods.”
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Storm shifted again. He needed food, but not snack cakes or soda. He needed a full helping of her. Caffeine would have to do. “Want a soda or something?” “Something cola sounds good. You’ll have to hurry. They usually arrive in about fifteen minutes.” She furrowed her brows and gripped the camera tightly. The parking lot lights glittered in her eyes. He peered into her mind. Besides the hunger gnawing at her stomach, fear rippled through her being. The nonchalance was an act. “I won’t leave you long. Lock the doors and I promise no one will hurt you.” Her eyes widened. She dropped the camera into her lap and laced her fingers together. “What makes you so certain I’m scared?” He fumbled for an answer that wasn’t the truth. Shit. A ripple of his own brand of fear skittered along his spine. The vision of O’Toole shattering the window to grab her floated into his mind. “After the visit from your gunman the other day, you’re afraid and you have every right to be. You think I let that encounter with Adam Guroni roll right off my back? I shit bricks for a week, sure he’d come after my ass like he threatened.” Stevie giggled. “I remember because he made a fool of himself over that call girl. But I also remember that you told me you were fine.” She swallowed hard. “Why don’t we sit tight? I’m not sure I want you to leave. Please?” He drew a long breath. Yes, sitting tight sounded wonderful. “I’m stuck to you like glue, babe.” He didn’t have to fidget much longer. Todd shifted, crossing his ankles to give them the signal. “Showtime.” Stevie angled to aim the camera at the lobby. Sure enough, Bruce strolled into the building. Cherylyn waited in her car by the handicap spot. “You got enough room to snap the shots?” Storm leant in to peek at the viewfinder screen. “Crystal clear and damning enough that Edie should get the hint.” He kissed her cheek. “Good girl. I knew I liked you for a reason.” He buried his face in her neck as Cherylyn sped by. “Storm, we have a job to do.” Stevie clicked more images and whimpered. “But I’m not sure I want you to stop.”
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His heart raced. Damn the job. Was there enough room in the back for a quickie? Cherylyn’s voice broke the mood. “When are you going to let her know about us? She’s got PIs tailing us where ever we go.” Stevie and Storm huddled next to the receiver on the dashboard. Bruce stomped past Todd. “We’re fine. They can’t see us. Now get in the room and get naked. I got work to do later.” “Like what?” Cherylyn asked. “Getting rid of her snoopers.” Stevie gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Her voice cracked. “You don’t think he’s the one that—” Storm held his index finger in the air. “Sit tight. When Todd comes, we’ll brief.” Within five minutes, other tenants of the Starlight Motel exited their rooms, giving Todd the noise and commotion necessary to leave. Storm breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s out. Let’s snap the exit shots and get the hell outta here.” Stevie scooted to the backseat of the van. She grasped Storm’s sleeve with shaky hands. He invaded her mind for a split second. She still worried about the gunman. “He won’t hurt you, babe.” “I know, I know.” She fluttered her hands. “We work for Edie, but my only job is to protect you. I’ll lay down my life for you if that’s what it takes to keep you safe. I promise.” Strom rubbed her knee and focused on the motel building. She squeezed his hand. “Thanks.” Stevie nodded to the windshield. “Here comes Todd and he looks angry. I wonder what he heard.” “Stay here until I come get you.” Storm cupped her chin. “Call it my attempt at being your knight in shining armour.” When he slid out of the vehicle, she giggled. “Why don’t you just be my dark, moody, and very handsome protector?” “Wait until we get home. I have lots of ways in mind to keep you safe.” Storm wriggled his brow. Todd tossed an empty soda can on the front seat of Storm’s rental truck. “Man, they make too damn much sex noise.”
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He turned and slammed the van door shut. “Yeah? I pegged Cherylyn as a screamer.” “She is, but that’s not my news. We need to talk.” Todd waved him to the rear of the vehicles. “He’s not done.” “Tripp? Well, yeah.” Storm leaned against the back door of the van. “They go at least three rounds before they check out for the evening. I don’t know how some people can get off on listening to others have sex. It makes me cringe.” Todd spoke in a whisper. “I meant O’Toole.” Storm ground his teeth. “What’s he doing now?” Besides terrorizing Stevie. “He’s turning people. At least three more since last weekend. Two girls and a middleaged guy. He’s not just feeding from them. He’s creating a following.” “Do you know who?” “I think I got a lead on one of the girls, but the other seems to have vanished. The guy is one of O’Toole’s old friends—a guy named Arnie, Arnold, Armand…something like that. We can’t get a lead on him.” Storm folded his arms. He dropped his head to his chest. Great, three more potential foes. “Better clue in Allan. I think Jamison’s gearing up for a showdown.” “With Stevie as the main course. You gonna tell her?” “Yeah. I have to.” Tell her and hope like hell she didn’t run screaming into the night. Sure, he had faith in her, but like the other good things in his life, there was no guarantee she’d stick around. Todd slapped Storm’s back. “Take her home, give her some red-hot sex, and tell her you love her. She’ll understand.” “You got it.”
**** Stevie yanked the door of the fridge open and surveyed the contents. Her stomach rumbled. “Do you ever shop for food when I’m not here?” The time spent in front of the convenience store smelling fried chicken whipped up her appetite. “Why? I’d rather microwave something. It’s less messy.” He shouted from the living room.
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She nibbled the inside of her bottom lip. “Can I have a glass of your fancy wine? I need something strong to unwind.” She reached for the cobalt blue glass bottle. “Is it red wine or a mixer?” “It’s nothing you’d drink.” She jumped and clutched her chest. “You scared the life out of me, Storm!” How the hell had he gotten behind her so fast? “You like blush wines. That stuff’s too heavy for you.” He shut the door. “You’ll get one of your nasty headaches, and though I wouldn’t mind being your personal nurse, I don’t want to put you through the agony.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “But I am hungry. Why don’t we shower and make a run to the Taco Hut?” She peeked at the glowing green clock over his shoulder. “It’s almost three in the morning.” “So? We got ice cream late at night before. What’s the difference?” He tugged her to the bathroom. “We were supposed to do this last night and I want a do-over. I fantasised about making love to you in the shower all evening.” “We can’t.” Stevie froze next to the shower stall. Her palms turned clammy and her mouth went dry. His eyes softened. The gold flecks burned bright against the mocha. “Babe, this is me. I won’t make you do what you don’t want.” He reached in to turn on the water, brushing her arm as he passed. “I’ll never hurt you.” She fumbled for words and gulped oxygen. He wouldn’t harm her. Storm promised to protect her and she believed him. Why couldn’t she get the image of that horrible night from her mind? “I’m sweaty. I want to get cleaned up, babe—with you.” He cupped her chin in one strong hand. “Take control. You tell me what to do.” Stevie peeled the shirt over her head and shook out her hair. Storm’s mouth opened a fraction of an inch. His eyelids drooped. She unbuttoned her jeans and let them pool at her feet. “Get in, but don’t crowd me.” “I promise I won’t.” He unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his jeans. His cock jutted out at her, thick and glistening.
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Her fear returned tenfold. The scent of the antiseptic at the station came rushing back to her despite the floral air freshener wafting through the space. She shook. The room spun. “I can’t do this.” “Breathe, babe.” He wrapped her in his arms once again. “Breathe and remember where you are. You’re safe. I have you.” Stevie took a deep breath. I refuse to give in to the fear. I won’t let them rule my life. She squared her shoulders and kissed Storm hard on the lips. “I can do this. I will do this.” With the flick of her wrist, her bra sailed across the room and swung from the knob on the vanity. “I want to try sex in the shower.” “We’ll work up to it.” He unwound his arms and ripped his shirt over his head. “No rushing.” She closed her eyes, allowing his strength to wash over her. A weight lifted from her shoulders. She could do this. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You get in first and stand against the wall.” Storm did as she asked. He held out his hand, welcoming her into his embrace. Calling her home. Her heart slammed within her chest. This man cared about her. While his hands roamed up and down her arms, his kisses fluttered over her cheeks. “Let me wash you, babe.” Once she brushed a soggy lock of hair from across her forehead, Storm squeezed a dollop of her body wash onto a washcloth and created a thick lather in his palms. As she closed her eyes to diminish the onslaught of lust coursing her system, a low moan escaped her lips. Her skin tingled as he caressed every inch of her body and soul. How did she get so lucky to be cared for by him? Sparks radiated at her core and seeped between her thighs. Dear God, she needed him—loved him. Storm made a noise that was a cross between a moan and a growl. “Look into my eyes and show me what you’re feeling.” He nuzzled her neck. “Don’t make me think I’m the only one having a good time and please don’t make me stop.” She giggled. A wave of desire and need crashed within her. Make him stop? Never. She wanted—no, needed—to take him right there in the slippery stall. Her ghosts and fears could go straight to hell. And did he just say please?
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Storm dropped to his knees and gazed up at her. The same desire she felt deep inside mirrored in his eyes. She shivered. “What?” “I need to give you a thorough cleansing, babe.” She wound her fingers in his damp hair and pressed his face to her slick nether lips. A chuckle rose from his throat. “Oh, Stevie.” He lapped at her cream, swirling his tongue over the tight bundle of nerve endings around her clit. “Yes.” She leaned against the cool tile wall and held on for the duration. She shivered. “You own me, sweetheart. No one can take me away from you.” Storm grabbed her ass, digging his fingers into the tender flesh. His dark hair stuck to his forehead in clumps. The full meaning of his statement sluiced over her with the heated water. No one ever cared like Storm and she didn’t want to give him up—ever. As he nuzzled her cleft, she shivered. A groan escaped her lips. His tongue should be registered as dangerous. “Make love to me.” She panted and twined her fingers in his hair. “Help me replace my past with our future.” “Yes.” Nipping her inner thigh, he blazed a trail of heat up her stomach to the dip between her breasts. As he stood, he slid his hand under her leg. “Open to me. Hook your sexy body around my waist.” As she grasped his shoulders for leverage, she whimpered and closed her eyes. She wasn’t light by any means, so how did he manage to hold her like she weighed nothing? “I can’t hold back, babe.” Inch by delicious inch, he entered her. Although he stretched her, she loved every sensation. She gasped and opened her eyes, intent not to miss a moment. When he surged forward, he matched the movements of his cock with his tongue in her mouth. She swallowed his groan. Making love to him, feeling him stroke in and out of her body was addictive. His thrusts, gentle at first, gained speed and intensity. His grip on her hips tightened. Arching her back to send him deeper into her core, she moaned. Being in his embrace felt right—like coming home. He saw her scars, inside and out, and held firm. Could he love her? She already loved him. “Fuck yes, Stevie.” As he pistoned in and out of her slick channel, Storm gritted his teeth. A smile twisted the very corners of his mouth. “So beautiful.” He rested his forehead on hers and reached between their soap slickened bodies to pluck her clit.
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Spasms and a unique combination of pleasure and pain rocketed through her system. Teetering on the ragged edge, she clasped him tighter. With each thrust, each surge into her body, Storm knocked her against the cool tile wall. “Come with me, Stevie.” His breath fanned over her tingling mouth. “Don’t let me feel this alone.” A moan slipped past her lips. “Oh.” Excitement coiled tight in her belly. She dug her nails into his shoulders, marking him. “Yes, baby.” With one final push, Storm lurched forward and buried his length to the hilt. “Holy fuck!” He added a couple of residual thrusts before he stilled within her. When she lowered her leg, her knees quaked. She dragged air into her lungs. The weight on her shoulders melted as his arms curled tighter around her. The bitterness and revulsion dissolved. No, he didn’t define her, but his care, his attention helped make her whole again. He cared for her when few others did. She shivered. The water, once scalding, shifted to lukewarm and chilled her. Storm slid his hands up her sides to cup her jaw. His chest heaved with laboured breaths. “You’re mine.” The veracity of his words tripped her up. His? Sure, she wanted to be his woman. Hell, he made her feel brand new. She licked her lips and fought to come up with a fitting reply. “I’m yours. Always.”
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Chapter Ten
After another round of lovemaking, Storm curled Stevie against his side. Every nerve ending in his body belonged to Stevie, whether she wanted it or not. When he slid into her mind, he saw the desire and something more—devotion. She cared for him as much as he loved her. The sweet scent of her arousal mixed with the soft rose of her body wash. A wave of calm and serenity washed over him. Peace. The more he held her, the stronger he felt. Even in the darkness, she brightened his life. Still, he couldn’t read everything on her mind. He needed to tell her everything. “How do you feel about me, sweetheart?” He drew in a ragged breath and waited for her reply. She sighed and wriggled in his embrace. “Consumed, but content and a bit tired. You wear a girl out, but it’s a good worn-out.” He kissed her fevered skin, savouring the unique taste of Stevie. “Just content? I’d better improve my performance until I rate higher than that.” Stevie pressed her taut nipples against his chest and twined her fingers behind his head. “I’m a little overwhelmed, but for good reasons. You’re the hottest lover a woman could ask for. You’re more than I deserve, but I refuse to send you back.” Storm wanted more than a lover. He wanted his mate. He’d tasted her, knew her heart and soul. It was time. “I love you, Stevie.” She nibbled on his chin. A wicked grin curled her kiss-swollen lips. “Probably good because I’m falling for you. You’re the best partner and the perfect man once you decide to focus. I’m glad I went through with the bet.” “I’m not perfect.” His heart beat a wild tattoo. “I make mistakes.” Like not telling her his true identity from the start. “Yes, but you’re perfect with me, and I love you. You know how to touch me and make me scream. You’re honest and have good taste. Plus, you’re sexy as hell.” He closed his eyes and swallowed to get a moment of silence. Her words shook him to the core. “Say that again.” When he opened his eyes, Stevie scrunched her brows. “Say what?”
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“That you love me.” “Oh, that.” A wicked light sparkled in her deep blue irises. “We’re into some heady discussion. I might have changed my mind.” His blood froze for a split second until he caught on to her game. “Really?” She tapped her chin with the tip of her index finger. “Nah, I’m sure.” “You’re sure of what?” “I love you, Storm Richardson.” Emotions he couldn’t explain unfurled in his heart and pumped through his veins. Everything in his life felt right for the first time since the change. He bit back a groan. The change. He needed to disclose his truths and fast. “I love you, too, Stevie, but there are a few things I need to tell you. We need to talk.” She licked her bottom lip with a quick swipe. “Are you going to insist we get engaged or are you going for a non-commitment angle with this discussion?” She giggled and winked. “I love emeralds more than diamonds.” Storm brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. Stevie felt like pure silk in his grasp. An oval emerald with diamonds surrounding it would make a beautiful engagement ring. He filed the idea away and pressed on with his admission. He needed to cleanse his soul. “Those girls meant nothing. They were drawn to me, but I didn’t desire any of them. I still don’t.” “Why bring them up?” Her brows furrowed again. “I understand how they feel. I can’t keep my hands off you. I see the connection, sexy man.” Sexy man. Storm liked hearing those words rolling off her lips. He wanted to kiss her until she melted in his arms. He needed to taste her again. To drink from her. His fangs elongated in his mouth. Shit. He braced himself. His fortitude wasn’t that strong. Hell yes, he wanted to make her his permanently. “It’s not that easy. We naturally draw people, but I wanted the one woman who didn’t really want me.” “We? Were you a fashion model or a rock star before you met me? Those are the only men I can think of right off the bat who attract women in hordes. And you do look hot without a shirt. But then again, you probably needed to go through special training to be a PI, so—I’d better stop rambling.” She pressed her lips together and looked away. “Who didn’t want you? Whoever she was, she’s a fool.”
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“I don’t think I could handle the stage or the idea of standing still in order to model,” He laced his fingers with hers. He peeked into her mind to see the lust and desire warring with a sliver of pity. He didn’t want her pity; he needed her love. “But, I meant you. I wanted you for so long.” “You have me.” Did he have her? He popped into her mind. Love and laughter cancelled out the sad feelings and swirled around their image. He cupped her chin and went for the brass ring. “Honey, I’m a vampire.” Stevie’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she bothered to verbalise her thoughts. “Wait. Did you just say vampire? You’re joking, right? Vampires don’t exist. They’re figments of Hollywood and the imagination—nothing more.” Stevie backed away a few inches. “If you’re for real, then show me the teeth.” “They do exist, and yes, I am a vampire.” He opened his mouth and rolled his tongue over his elongated teeth. “See?” “They aren’t real, but they feel pretty realistic.” She inched to him and slid her index finger over one of his fangs. “You have a denture or something.” “They are as real as I am, sweetheart.” Her trepidation wafted around him in the scent of cayenne. Damn. How to get her to understand without freaking her out? He dragged air into his lungs and went with the truth. “Stevie, I wasn’t sure how to tell you the truth, but it doesn’t change how I feel. I love you.” Please don’t go. Don’t walk away. “Ha, ha.” She rolled her eyes. “What? Are you one of those Goths that want so much to be a vampire that you got your teeth fixed? I mean, I never bothered to ask you about your teeth because there wasn’t a need, but I wondered.” Stevie cupped his cheek. “You don’t need to act like something you aren’t in order to impress me. I already like you.” He knew deep down to his soul that she loved him with her whole heart. She wanted the white wedding and forever with him, if he’d just come clean to her and wasn’t a vampire. “Stevie, I can read your mind. It’s one of my gifts or curses, depending on how you look at it.” “Really? What am I thinking?” Her brows rose as she cocked her head.
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“You think I’m pulling your leg, but I’m not.” How to not sound like a fool when all he wanted to do was curl up in her arms and never let go? “I can smell your arousal and your fear. You want to believe me because you’re in love with me, but you’re scared because you can’t understand what I am.” I want you to take me as I am. “That’s just another of your lucky guesses and a lot of baloney you want me to believe so you can laugh later. That’s what men do.” “Why do you suppose I sleep all day and can stay up all night? Trust me, I hate living off the blood of others.” I want to be normal for you. His heart clenched and pain seared behind his eyes. He felt her withdrawal like a slap to the face. She wanted to understand, but in her mind, vampirism wasn’t logical. Hell, was it logical to him? “That can’t be true.” Stevie’s hand slid down to his chest. As he expected, she shoved him away and scrambled to the far side of the bed. Panic suffused in her eyes. Her breasts heaved as she tried to catch her breath. “How did I not know this? You’re my partner and closest friend. You know everything about me. Why couldn’t you tell me? And why did you wait until we were naked to have this discussion?” “I didn’t want to hurt you, but after Allan warned you and that crazy grabbed you at the bank, I couldn’t hold back any longer.” Storm grabbed for her hand and inched closer to her. His heart splintered. “Clothed or naked, I don’t want to lose you.” She sat up and fumbled to cover her nakedness with the slippery satin sheet. Her entire body shook. “Allan, the bartender? He told me to keep my eyes open and to stay away from you after dark, but I laughed him off. Is he just a concerned citizen afraid that you’ll drain me, or is he one of you?” “He’s a vampire, too.” Why the hell were they having this conversation in the nude? She picked invisible lint off the smooth sheet with trembling fingers. Her voice registered just above a whisper. “How can you love me? You lied to me.” “I didn’t.” The combination of her glare and the paleness of her cheeks pinned him to the spot. She continued to slide to the edge of the bed. “By omission. Your identity is one big lie. Who the hell are you?” “Stevie, you’re my mate.” Storm sat up and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “You’re the woman I’m meant to spend the rest of my undead life with.”
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She tugged the sheet off the bed and backed into the door. “I think you drank the wrong blood type, buddy. Check your victim next time because I am not your mate. I’m a human being.” She brushed the tears wetting her cheeks away with the back of her hand and searched the floor for her clothing. “I don’t know who you are and I can’t stand the sight of blood.” He stood and crossed to her. When he handed her the rumpled Kent State sweatshirt, she yanked it out of his hands without looking up. He reached out and cupped her chin, temporarily stopping her movements. “Stevie, look at me. I smelled it on you and tasted it in your kiss. Your essence mixed with mine the first time we made love.” “Fucked.” She poked his chest with her index finger. “We fucked.” Her fire and sass turned him on more than he wanted to concede. “I should pin you to the bed and kiss the dirty words from your mouth after I spank you for being feisty.” Stevie shook her head. “No, Storm. Don’t confuse what we did.” She tugged the faded denim over her shapely hips and brushed her hair from her eyes. “We didn’t make love because I’m a vessel to your kind, or something like that. Admit it.” Tears streamed down her cheeks once more. “Admit this is a lie to get what you want from me.” “I love you.” He dropped his hands and stepped away from the door. “You love my blood.” She yanked her purse off the rocking chair and raced down the steps. “I need to go. I need to process this shit.” Storm ignored his nakedness and charged after her. “Stevie, wait.” “Don’t touch me.” She brushed him off and threw the kitchen door open. “I need space and air.” Spearing the garage door opener, she strode across to her vehicle. When the door clicked into the up position, she climbed into her car and drove away. Storm leant on the doorframe and massaged his temples. The pain in his chest felt like his heart tore in half and left with her. Maybe he could erase the hurt and make her come back with the just the flick of his wrist. If he could erase memories, then why not create ones? Because he wanted their love to be true, not forced to meet his own ends. He needed her to accept him without prejudice.
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The sound of her engine faded down the driveway. Who was he kidding? That kind of magic didn’t exist. Why would she be any different? His family never bothered to look after he disappeared and became a vampire. His own family! When he looked out the open garage door, the faintest glimmer of her taillights remained. He scrubbed his hand through his hair. Even if she didn’t want him, she owned his soul. Part of him wanted to chase her down and make her see reason. Another part of him never cared to see her again. But could he live without his mate? Never. For the undead life of him, he wasn’t sure how to get her back into his arms. He dropped his chin to his chest and puffed out a ragged breath. Abandoned. Again.
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Chapter Eleven
Three days later, Storm flipped the folder back onto his desk and checked his watch. Eleven p.m. Too damn early to go home and mope, but late enough to go to the Spitz to check on Jack Davis. He tucked the folders into his desk drawer and locked it with a snick. Even though he managed to catch every red light on the main drag, the drive across town seemed to take only moments. As he strolled into the dark room, the acrid scents of smoke, fried food and body odour met his nose. Storm shook his head. He’d rather be at home. After a moment, he located the man from Noreen’s picture. Jack sat at the third stool from the wall, nursing a beer. He raked his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. Condensation slid down the sides of the amber bottle. “Hey, man.” Storm sat next to him and ordered a beer. “Hey. You aren’t from around here.” Jack stuck out his hand. “I’m Jack. And you are?” “Jacob. Jacob Preston.” “Well, Jacob Preston, I’ve been a patron here for twenty years. No one comes into this bar unless they have something to hide or they have something to hide from.” Storm puffed out a laboured breath. He held no secrets, as long as he could run from his broken heart. “I just wanted to whet my whistle.” “Oh yeah? My wife thinks I’m cheating on her, so I hide here. She has a private investigator tailing me. A waste of money if you ask me.” Storm peeled the label off his bottle with his index fingernail. “It sounds like she cares about you.” “I agree.” The man nodded. He took a long drag from his bottle. “She’s a good woman.” “You’re upset about her caring or that she’s spending your money?”
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“I’m angry she doesn’t trust me.” He paused. “I lost my job with the Ford plant and it kills me because I can’t provide for my family like I used to.” “So you drink?” Storm winced and made a mental note to give Noreen a steep discount. “Nah, I come here to forget, but the beers don’t help.” He toyed with the cuff of his flannel shirt. “Alcohol doesn’t solve problems.” Storm crossed his arms. He pushed his bottle out of the way. Maybe this meeting wasn’t such a loss after all. “Why don’t you take the first step and talk to her?” “Why don’t you?” Storm coughed. “Come again?” How did the man seem to know just what to say to make him feel like shit? Because he spoke the truth. John cocked his head. “You came in here to forget a woman who’s unforgettable. I can see it in your eyes and the way you grin, just thinking about her. Instead of running from her, go back and beg forgiveness.” Storm averted his gaze. “I can’t.” She doesn’t want me. “Pride?” If only pride was the root problem. “She doesn’t understand me.” “Who really understands anyone? She’s in love with you but she’s probably scared. Love’s a big step I’m willing to assume she’s never taken before. She needs you even if she can’t vocalise it.” Loving a vampire took guts and strength. Hell, John was right. Being in love with anyone took work. Storm waved to the bartender. “How’d you get so smart?” “I’ve been around and seen too many strong loves go to hell because people are set in their ways.” John sighed. “So why don’t I go talk to my wife and you beg your girl for a second chance? We might both get what we want.” “Sounds like a plan.” Storm dropped a twenty on the bar and slapped John on the back. “Sounds like a plan, man. You take it easy.” “She needs you. Go to her.” John nodded. Storm rolled his shoulders and shoved the door open. He took a long drag of night air to digest John’s words. Did Stevie really need him as much as he wanted her? Did she truly love him? He closed his eyes and sat behind the wheel of his truck. He opened his mind to
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track her thoughts. Her pain radiated to him as if it were his own. Hurt and regret combined with longing swarmed around her. He shivered. Raw fear slid into his consciousness. At least she wasn’t blocking him completely. But she was with another man—her handsome next door neighbour, Kendall Green. Storm tensed and peered farther into her thoughts. She didn’t want Kendall. She wanted Storm, once she found the words to tell him how she felt. At the same time, she was scared to let go of all the things she knew to be true. He needed to go to her and make things right. Now.
**** Stevie stared at the television screen as a black and white movie played. The sound ricocheted off her bland walls as Jean Arthur continued to argue to the judge as to why she couldn’t love a man like Jimmy Stewart. Stevie tugged the navy wool blanket tighter around her body and wiped the tears away with the back of her hands. No pictures decorated the space or offered any glimpse into her personality. She felt like a stranger in her own one bedroom apartment. The chill enveloped Stevie and sunk into her bones. She missed Storm’s warmth and laughter. Correction. She missed Storm. At least Kendall hadn’t lingered. He wasn’t the man in her heart. “I walked away from the man of my dreams.” She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. “I have to find another job because I can’t work with him. I can’t work with memories crowding around me.” Stevie flicked the buttons on the remote to turn the screen off. “Even if I run from Storm because I’m afraid of what he is, I can’t run away from another job.” That thought tore her in half. When she’d resigned from the NHPD, she’d strode out with her head held high, knowing she was innocent. How was she supposed to divorce herself from her job with Storm? She didn’t do anything wrong except fall in love with the wrong guy. Love. What a joke! Love didn’t exist.
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Her mind wandered back to the look on Storm’s face when he admitted he loved her. Did vampires feel admiration for anything other than blood? She wasn’t sure. Why did he have to be one of the undead? The miserable feelings engulfed Stevie. The scent of her favourite candles only reminded her of Storm. Trips through town were like highlight reels of the last five years. Each building held some sort of significance. Like the time Storm told her he liked her laugh in front of Dorgan’s. That brought a small smile to her lips. Or the time he drove to the Dairy Delight Convenience store to buy ice cream at eleven o’clock so they could watch the New Year come in without being alone. She’d licked the dribbling chocolate off his chin and ended up kissing him at the exact stroke of midnight. Then there was the time they threw pennies in the courthouse fountain. Stevie had wished she’d find a man like Storm to scorch her nights. His wish seared her memory. A woman like you to understand me. Fresh tears pricked her dry eyes. How did you understand what it was like to be a vampire? She didn’t possess a single clue. That hurt even more. She wanted to understand, needed to understand. Despite her fears, Storm’s, what…race? Were vampires a race? Didn’t matter. The more she thought about him, the more she missed him. The more she needed him. Stevie stared at the text message he’d sent shortly after she walked out of his house three days before. Don’t give up on us. The message accompanied the picture of them dancing at the Chatty Catty Club. “I left like a foolish kid. He deserves better than me, but I don’t want him to find someone else. I want him to love me again.” Stevie chided herself. How selfish! She didn’t deserve a second chance. One look at her rumpled sweatshirt and tattered pyjama bottoms spoke volumes. “I need to get myself cleaned up and over to his house, but first, I need a plan and the courage to tell him how I feel. A knock at her door interrupted her scheming. She glanced at the clock, twelve fortyfive a.m. Her heart leapt. Storm? Had he read her emotions to know she wanted to be with him? Stevie peeked through the peephole. A wave of nausea swept through her. She squared her shoulders and opened the door.
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“What do you want, Ace? It’s after midnight.” Her ex-boyfriend shuffled in the hallway. The clean cut, boy-next-door appeal she once desired didn’t faze her. He wasn’t the man she wanted. “I wanted to talk to you, Stephie. I think we should consider giving our relationship another go.” “At midnight? No. And don’t call me Stephie.” Her sixth sense prickled and shivers skittered up her spine. She’d never try again with this man if he was the proverbial last man on Earth. Why couldn’t Kendal materialise in the nick of time? Better yet, where was Storm when she needed him? Oh right, she walked out on him. Dammit. “Give me another chance and five minutes to change your mind. I’m going crazy without you.” He leaned on the doorframe and stuck his face in hers. “What do you say?” She cocked a brow and exhaled. She knew how to use her weapon if he tried anything funny. “Fine.” He shoved forward, but she held fast. “We’ll talk downstairs in the parking lot. I didn’t clean the apartment and don’t want company, Ace.” Hope lit in his dull brown eyes. “I’ll help you tidy up. We can bond and snuggle like we used to.” Bile rose in her throat. “No.” With that, she closed the door and engaged the chain. Okay, so that was harsh. Still, a niggling in her mind told her to change and grab her pepper spray. She did both. Ace wasn’t going away without a fight. She just hoped one of her neighbours chose today to play nosy. Five minutes later, she bounded into the hallway. Ace stood next to the elevator. “Honey, you look fantastic. I pressed the call button.” The bell rang and he stepped into the open car. “Have you been on a diet?” “Oh, no. It’s a comfy shirt.” Stevie glanced at the faced vintage T-shirt and ratty jeans. But I usually wear makeup to meet men I like. Oh, right. I hate your guts. The words hovered on her tongue, yet she kept silent. She needed witnesses. “I’ll head down the stairs. It’s a nice evening and I don’t want to leave a huge carbon footprint.” He surged forward, but the doors shut before he could push his way out of the elevator. Stevie grinned and strode away from the chrome doors. She peeked out the windows. A familiar black truck sat in the parking lot under one of the bright white security lights. Storm? She ran down the three flights of steps and threw open the fire door. Was he there?
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Did she have another chance? Here was Ace expecting another go at a relationship and she wanted to fall into the arms of another man. Sheesh! As she got closer, she noticed a green and blue wave painted on the side of the truck. Not Storm. He went for basic black without ornamentation. Her joy dipped. “Honey, you ran down those stairs in record time. I didn’t think you moved that fast with the extra weight on your hips. Maybe that diet is doing you some good.” “I like using the steps.” Stevie clenched her fists and whipped around. Ace possessed no tact, true, but to use those words to woo her? Was he joking? “I put it into high gear to get out here and catch you.” He puffed and bent to catch his breath. Stevie crossed her arms. “This won’t work.” He held his hands out her, but she pushed forward. “I don’t want this. I want a relationship where I’m cherished. To know that my man won’t cheat on me because of my past or my size.” He narrowed his eyes. “I cherished you. Any man who’d date a woman who acted as frigid as you deserves a medal. You could still stand to lose a few pounds, but my love for you hasn’t waned.” “You’re delirious. You never loved me,” she spat and took a step back. “I was second team because you wanted my sister all along. Or was your drunken confession a lie as well?” “I wanted the both of you at the same time. Doing a set of sisters is really hot.” “That’s disgusting.” She crinkled her nose. Eww. Ace cocked his head. The vein in his forehead bulged. She cringed. The gentle curve of his lips twisted into a sinister smile. “It isn’t revolting when you cooperate. It’s my fantasy, kinda like you and the vampire. Some people would think you’re a freak and a whore. Not me. I like an adventurous girl.” He inched towards her. “Maybe you’d let me bite you while we fuck.” Her lunch and the pint of chocolate ice cream in her stomach reversed course in digestion. “I’m sure that if your precious Storm asked you to service another man, you would.” “He’s got more sense.” Stevie stood her ground and stared at him. Ace surged forward and grabbed both her arms. His fingers cut into her flesh. Welts rose on her skin. “Why don’t you ask him? He’ll tell you that you don’t matter. If you did, he
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wouldn’t have let you go and taken up with that hot ass waitress. Too bad and now it’s my gain.” Stevie braced her left foot and brought her right knee in direct contact with Ace’s family jewels. “Take that, you son of a bitch,” she screamed and kicked again. His grasp tightened around her. “Let me go or I’ll rip your cock off with my bare hands.” “You don’t have the nerve.” He shook her, digging his fingers into her upper arms. “You want me too much to hurt me. Jamison told me so.” Jamison told him? Who the hell was Jamison to disclose her personal needs? He knew nothing about her, including the person she wanted. “He lied.” Thunder split the silent, dark night. She froze. “I want you gone.” Her stomach roiled. She knew that voice, but wouldn’t argue because it meant she’d have to open her mouth. If she spoke, she’d throw up. Stevie twisted in Ace’s grasp to prove to herself that Storm was real and standing there. Ace tossed her onto the ground with a thud. Her teeth clunked together. Iron-rich blood filled her mouth from biting her tongue. “So Storm’s came back to claim his woman? How sweet. Too bad, vampire, she just consented to be my wife.” Her ex-boyfriend’s voice dropped to a growl. Another peal of thunder crashed. Nauseated feeling gone, Stevie sprang up from the ground. “Get out of my life.” “See, Richardson. She wants you to leave.” Ace shook his head. “Go play with your new toy.” His smug voice grated her nerves. Stevie clenched her fists. “I meant you, Ace.” Storm cocked his head and folded his arms. The parking lot lights glittered in his eyes. He braced his large feet shoulder’s width apart. His tone remained level and calm. “Leave the lady alone.” Ace adjusted his clothes as if Storm wrestled with him and sucked in a deep breath. “Fine. You lost your chance, Stephie. You deserve to be alone, just like Jamison said. All fucking alone!” He wiped his hands on his chinos. “Stick to your new hottie, Storm. This woman’s on permanent PMS.”
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Stevie surged forward to cold cock him and Storm touched her arm with a gentle hand, preventing the assault. Ace clucked his tongue. “It’s a good thing he stopped you. I’d hate to have you arrested, but then again, Cole and Marello might love it.” “It’s a better thing that I didn’t let her kick your ass.” Storm stepped in front of Stevie. “It’s hard to shake the reputation when people find out you got your nads handed to you on a plate by a woman.” Ace stuck his chin in the air and stomped to his foreign car. At the last second, he whipped around. “Obey Jamison and this will all go away. If you don’t, he will win and you’ll both pay the price.” Warning sent, he slid into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the parking lot. Stevie heaved a sigh of relief and turned to thank Storm, but he wasn’t there. She glanced around the crowded lot. Where was he? “Storm?” Stevie never saw the clouds, but she felt the rain. The fat drops soaked her to the bone. The falling temperature chilled her heart. Grow up or shut up. She wiped the few tears on her cheeks and began to devise her plan. Time to grow up. He may not want her back, but she’d be damned if she’d let Storm push her away without a fight. “I’m a little late, Storm, but I’m coming. I don’t know if we’ll survive whatever’s coming, but I won’t let you down.”
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Chapter Twelve
For two days after seeing Stevie with Ace, Storm fought the urge to call her. Only holding Stevie would melt the hurt in his soul, but he couldn’t go back. Her initial rejection hurt and her avoidance devastated him. She was the one woman he’d felt comfortable enough to come clean about his affliction and she’d left without a backward glance. And why had Ace claimed he’d hooked up with Lettie? She wasn’t his type. Seeing Stevie stand strong had thrilled Storm, but being in her mind, he’d seen her confusion—to be with him or not. He groaned. He’d have to move again and start fresh. Well, maybe not. In his mind, he heard Stevie’s pleas and anguish. She’d called to him that night, but his pride prevented him from running to her. Stupid pride. Earlier that evening, Storm shooed away a couple of prospective clients with the lie that his caseload was too demanding. The money and the busy work didn’t matter any longer. Food lost its limited lustre. Even his blood wine tasted bitter without Stevie. His bed, once warm and homey, felt too cold and lonely. It had killed him to walk away from her, yet she never said she needed him. She stood up to Ace. Pride surged in Storm. She wasn’t perfect, but she regained her nerve. He flipped through the Davis file on his desk. John’s only misstep was not giving his wife a chance. If they spoke to each other, she’d see that despite his stress, he loved her. Storm snorted. Maybe the love affair with Stevie would have the happy ending he desired if he gave in and surrendered his heart. The jingle of the office doorbell caught his attention. In his doorway stood Lettie, clad in a micro mini jean skirt and a clingy black tissue T-shirt. Her blonde hair fell in soft waves around her face, giving her the appearance of an angel. He knew better. Her wolfish crimson smile betrayed her childlike image. Stevie’s innocence called to him like a beacon. Lettie repulsed him. “How can I help you, Leticia?” “You haven’t come into the diner lately.” She strolled up to the desk on spiky heeled sandals. “It’s not the same.”
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“I’ve been busy.” He folded his arms. His stomach soured. “Not anymore.” Lettie flicked her golden tresses over her shoulder and pursed her lips. “Give yourself some down time.” “I’m always busy, honey.” He fought the rush of bile surging up his throat. She arched one brow and toyed with a glass paperweight on his desk in the shape of a periwinkle egg. Her fingers caressed the smooth surface. Storm dug his blunt nails into his side. Damn. The woman possessed honed sexual skills or he really needed to get laid. She pursed her lips again and continued to fondle the paperweight. “I missed your— smile.” “Really?” He cleared his throat and chastised himself for the chubby tenting his jeans. He sounded too needy, too turned on. Dammit. “Do you need something? I was in the middle of finishing a case.” Lettie whipped around his desk and perched on the edge, inches from his lap. She licked her lips. “I need you.” He gripped the hem of his Henley to keep from reaching for her. A starving man could only take so much. His fangs dropped within his mouth. What kind of spell did she weave? “No, you don’t. You don’t need anyone.” He forced his mind to Stevie. Her smile calmed his frayed nerves. She bent low and her breasts strained against the thin fabric of her top. “I do—you.” Her breath fanned over his cheek. When she spoke those three words, he wanted to retch. “Lettie, I’m involved.” He clenched his teeth. She meant nothing to him but a quick meal. His pride warred with his conscience. She wanted him. Stevie had discarded him—well, no, he’d walked away from her. He loved her more than anyone. She was his true mate. Fuck. Lettie walked her sharp nails up his chest, stabbing him with each movement. “That’s not what I heard.” Storm cocked his head. His erection wilted. “And what did you hear?” He attempted to peer into her mind, but she slammed the mental door shut. Dammit. He drew in a long breath to gain her scent…nothing but acrid cheap perfume. Not even a hint of whatever evil tainted her heart.
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“A little birdie told me that Stevie dumped you to get back with Ace. You left her alone in the parking lot and she saw the truth. She’s happy with her choice and so am I. I think Ace got her pregnant.” He snorted. Pregnant? Bullshit. The truth wasn’t anything like the garbage coming from the blond vixen. He knew the score with Ace. Stevie’s emotions snapped and crackled in his brain. She wanted Storm with her whole heart, even if she couldn’t vocalise it. How to give Lettie the brush-off without giving his knowledge away? Lie through his teeth. “Lettie, I need time to think. I want to want you, but my heart’s fragile right now. I need to be true to Stevie, even if she’s not mine.” Lettie rubbed her nose along his jaw and purred like a damned cat. “Give me ten minutes and I can make you forget all about your quaint little partner who can’t even tell you she loves you.” Storm wrapped his fingers around her arm. He shivered from the chill. Fear gripped him. “Lettie.” “She hurt you, Storm.” Amusement shot through her eyes. “Let me help you heal.” The chorus of an old Neon Sycophants song split the air. Storm closed his eyes. Relief washed over him and renewed his strength. Stevie’s ringtone. She wanted him. “What the hell?” Lettie leant back. Her lips twisted into a snarl. He fumbled for his phone in his back pocket. “I have a text from one of my associates. I need to check this.” He wriggled out from under her grasp and strolled to the doorway with Lettie tight at his side. A text message popped up on the screen. Please come over. His heart thundered. Those three words rocked him to the core. He didn’t want Stevie to beg, but her plea touched him in places he hadn’t known existed. He needed redemption and she needed time. She wanted him now. Storm jammed his phone back into his pocket. “I have an associate who’s being held at gunpoint. I need to go.” He shoved Lettie through the doorway and into the foyer. “If I don’t get moving, I won’t be able to keep Grover in one piece. He’s my best surveillance man.” “Can I come along?” She stumbled onto the sidewalk and smoothed her skirt in place. “I’m good at keeping my mouth shut.” He knotted his brows. “I can’t risk you, honey. There are guns and bullets involved.”
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“I can hide pretty well, too.” “I like you too much to put you in harm’s way.” Appearing appeased, Lettie smiled. “Go, but I expect a visit tomorrow at the diner.” Her skirt swirled as she whipped around. Storm stifled a groan. A wisp of her ass and flimsy thong peeked from under the hem. “I’ll give you time, but you’ll see you need me. We need you.” He froze. Her words tripped him up. He touched her shoulder, jerking away from her icy skin. “We?” Warning signals went off in his mind. Pieces of the puzzle worked into place—she worked with Jamison. “I need you.” She giggled. “And I can’t wait much longer.” “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He shivered again. No one needed him but his mate. Ten minutes after he walked Lettie out of the office, Storm raced across town to Stevie’s apartment. Whatever Lettie was up to and whomever she was in cahoots with didn’t matter. He needed to get to Stevie. He leaned on her intercom buzzer, but got no answer. “Come on, Stevie. Where are you?” He checked his watch. Two-thirty a.m. Shit. Why was she blocking him? “You want in the building?” He turned to see Stevie’s next-door neighbour, Kendall. Kendall reminded Storm of a walking commercial for trendy clothes. His rumpled T-shirt fit in all the right places and the faded jeans paired with flip-flops suited him. Even his wash-n-go hairstyle added to the man’s toned and tanned appeal. Did Stevie notice him? Or worse, did he notice her? Storm cleared his dry throat. “Will you let me upstairs? I want to check on her.” Did he look foolish like Ace? He hoped not. The other man nodded and unlocked the foyer door. “I’ll let you up there, but I’ll warn you. She’s messed up. Some guy she got hung up on really did her in a bad way. She spent a couple of nights crying. I offered to watch one of her old movies on the classic movie channel, you know, the schmaltzy ones with lots of kissing, hugging, and that kind of violence, but she shooed me away. I don’t get it.” Storm’s heart clenched as they ascended in the elevator to the third floor. At least she wasn’t with this caramel-haired hunk. “Did she say who broke her heart?” Please, God, not me… If he could only read her mind—then he’d know the score.
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Kendall shook his head and a lock of hair fell across his brow. “We have thin walls in this building, so I know it wasn’t Ace. I never caught this guy’s name, but I know she kept asking why. You two work together, so when she fesses up, give the unnamed jerk a kick in the nads for me. Well, you saw the crap in the parking lot. She deserves better than Ace the Ass. Her sister’s insult works well.” Storm nodded. She deserved an eternity with the man she needed. “She may not want to date me, but I can’t help wanting to protect her, man. She’s a special woman, you know, the kind that gets under your skin because she’s natural and beautiful inside and out.” “I’ll tell her.” Storm considered pointing to himself as the culprit, but didn’t want his balls busted for acting like a fool. Once he figured out how to make things up to her, he’d never let her go. He cracked a grin. Ace the Ass amused him because the name fit perfectly. The bell for her floor binged and the elevator doors opened. Kendall elbowed Storm. “Don’t tell her I helped you, but I hope this works out. I want to see her smile again.” “Me, too.” “Oh, and Storm? Don’t tell her I told you all that. She thinks I’m a badass. I’d hate to ruin my reputation.” “I heard nothing.” Nodding, Storm chuckled. Storm stood before Stevie’s door and waved to her neighbour. Now if only he could charm and beg his way back into her heart. He knocked on the door, only to hear strains of the band Disturbed. At midnight? The throbbing bass line punched from the speakers. He swallowed the rising fear and knocked again. “Stevie?” Dammit, stop blocking me. A shiver ran up his spine. Something wasn’t right. When she didn’t answer, he pictured her slashed to death and bleeding all over the floor. This can’t be happening. He pounded on her door with all his might and choked back a scream. “Stevie!” Of all the times to be in the dark! This time, the door inched open. “Come in.” Storm fought the urge to thunder into her space. Stay calm and let your mate come to you. He took a deep breath, stepped through the doorway. The candle light glowed in her tiny
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living room. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed a plastic bucket of ice with a green wine bottle chilling. “Hi.”Stevie appeared from the darkened hallway. “You came.” Storm tried to form words, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he salivated. Dark curls framed her angelic face. A black demi-bra cupped her breasts in a silent offering. The wispy bikini panties barely covered her modesty. He couldn’t tear his attention from the sheer dress she wore over the sexy ensemble. A hint of innocence mixed with a heavy dose of eroticism. She smiled, but her gaze fell to the floor. He fisted his hands. He couldn’t force her. She needed to come to him and seemed so far away. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured. “Beautiful.” Her chin quivered and a tear slid down her cheek. Storm rubbed his palm over his jeans leg. “Stevie, what is it? What’s going on? Let me in.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I don’t know how long we’ll last, but I’m willing to be your mate.” “Stevie.” Shock rocketed through his system followed by a healthy dose of desire. She hadn’t said the exact words he needed to hear, but she gave him something he could work with. Stevie kissed his lips then nipped his neck. “I like the name Jacob, but Storm sounds dangerous and sexy. I don’t care who you are as long as we’re together.” “Who do you want me to be?” She loved him. Praise God, she wanted him. “I like you just the way you are, fangs and all, so it doesn’t matter.” He kicked the door shut and locked it with a snick. “Stevie, I love you.” He crossed the room in long strides. His heart thundered, all for the woman in his soul. He burned for his mate. She curled her fingers around his hands. “The rules are that I have to come to you, right? Your mate must initiate the process.” “How did you know?” “You never forced me to do anything or pushed me in any way,” she murmured. “You’re a gentleman, even if you are a vampire.” “That gave me away?” He found it hard to believe her or read her thoughts.
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“Truth? I asked Allan. You know he likes to talk.” Her voice rasped. His stomach flip-flopped. Storm wasn’t sure whether to snap at her or kiss her senseless. Hell, kissing and loving sounded so much better. Stevie released his hand. She brushed her hair off her creamy shoulder and exposed her neck. “Bite me. Make our two halves whole. Make me your mate in every sense of the word.” Her jugular vein pulsed under her skin, drawing him to her. Storm paused. “Look at me.” Stevie dropped her hair and turned to him. Her eyes widened. “Stevie, are you sure? Once we do this, we’re mated for life. We can’t separate and no one else can claim you.” Not that he wanted to separate or share. He’d waited an eternity for this moment. But if she had any doubts, he’d rather know now. “Even if you don’t love me, we will always be a part of each other.” She licked her bottom lip and the simple act tightened his groin in sweet pleasurefilled pain. “We fucked those nights,” she murmured. “Isn’t that the same?” “No, babe, we made love. There’s a difference.” Questions burned in her clear blue eyes, but she remained quiet. “Tonight, I’ll make love to you again. But to mate, I need to bite you as we make love. To make you mine.” Stevie gave him a sharp nod. “Then do it.” A wave of apprehension hit him at full force. “I don’t have to turn you to make you mine. You’ll be a bitter taste to anyone who tries to bite you. You’ll stay human and no one else can have you unless you chose to leave me.” “You don’t want to make me like you?” She cocked her head. “I thought you all glamoured people to get what you wanted. I’ll submit if you prefer.” Storm silenced her with a hard kiss. “No, love. I want you to stay sweet and innocent. I don’t wish this sickness on you or anyone else. Do you trust me not to harm you?” “I’ve always trusted you.” Stevie tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I have faith you’ll know when to stop.” A tremor blazed through his body. He possessed the power to drain her—hell, to kill her. But he wouldn’t. He loved her too much to risk her. Because the unspoken love in her
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eyes backed up the truth in her statement. She gave him something few ever tried to give— her unabashed trust. Yes, he loved his mate. “On your bed.” He scooped her into his arms and blew out the candles. “I refuse to initiate another couch because I can’t wait to enjoy your sexy body.” “I agree.” She giggled. Storm entered her bedroom where another display of candles illuminated the room. As he laid her on the bed, his gaze roved her body. “You are so beautiful.” With little effort, he tore the sheer dress in half. Satisfied with his handiwork, he tangled her hands above her head. She parted her legs and granted him visual access to every inch of her body. He ran his tongue over his teeth. His fangs grew, pricking his bottom lip. The flutter of her pulse beckoned him. “Take me, Storm.” Reaching between her breasts, she flicked open the tiny clasp on her bra. “I’m yours. Always.” His mouth watered. Yes, always. He brushed kisses over her engorged nipples and groaned. “I need to be inside you.” The words came out on a growl. As he spoke, he yanked the thong away from her smooth pussy and down her thighs. Her scent went to his brain like fresh blood. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to gather his bearings before he did something foolish—like turning her. On a sigh, he opened his eyes and eased off the bed to unzip his jeans. Shoving the constricting denim, along with his socks and shoes, out of the way, he stood at his full height. She looked so small, but not helpless, under him. His cock bobbed as he removed his boxer briefs. Dear God, he needed her. Mate. Now. Peering up at him through dark lashes, Stevie smiled. “I trust you.” Throwing his head back, he moaned. With a surge, he knelt at the edge of the bed and entered her. She gasped and bared the smooth porcelain of her neck. Her inner muscles grabbed his shaft, holding him tightly in her heat. Salivating, he thrust into her again. Hell, he’d be done before he bit her. The darker instinct won. He nuzzled her jaw and found her pulse. She twined her fingers in his hair in a silent go-ahead. Before his sank his teeth into her unblemished skin, he murmured the words in his heart. “I love you.”
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Her nails scratched his shoulders as he latched onto her. The sweet taste of her blood lingered on his tongue. All the desire in her heart and the love in her soul bombarded him. He closed his eyes to savour her. Each thrust into her body brought a gasp. Her hips writhed under him as she dug her nails into his back. By letting go and trusting him, she gave him everything. His vision blurred as he opened his eyes. Storm withdrew his teeth and kissed her neck. Grasping her waist, he pistoned into her and headed towards sexual release. “Oh, Stevie.” Arching under him, she tensed. “Oh!” Her brows knotted. “Oh, my God!” When he came, he buried his face against her neck and panted. Her scent, her blood, her life etched itself onto his heart. His true love, for eternity. His mate.
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Chapter Thirteen
“What did they do to you?” Stevie propped herself up on her elbow and reapplied a bit of gloss. She curled her leg over his and walked her fingers along his sternum. “Vampires aren’t born. Tell me how you became one of the undead.” Storm blinked. Only moments ago, he made love to her. Now she wanted to know his true story. He chuckled. She gave honesty and deserved it in return. She hadn’t reciprocated his declaration of love, but he could feel it in her kiss and knew it deep down in soul. He wrapped her naked body in his embrace. “I want to hold you while I talk.” Stevie pursed her lips. The gloss sparkled as much as her eyes in the flickering candle light. The warmth from her core seared him. He wanted to kiss her again, to make love to her again. Instead, he’d tell her the truth—then he’d make love to her. “I was born in Salem, Massachusetts in 1669 to William and Anna Preston. My Puritan heritage wasn’t really my thing, but I went along with it. I wanted adventure, but I became engaged to Martha Kelly to make my parents proud.” Stevie chewed the corner of her mouth and tipped her head to gaze into his eyes. She pressed her hand flat on his chest right over his heart. The heat scorched him to his core. “Did you love her?” He suppressed a chuckle. Love? He never really loved anyone until he met Stevie. “I thought I did, but I didn’t. In fact, I never touched her because we weren’t allowed to be alone together.” A lock of her hair slid in front of her eyes. “Oh.” Storm tucked the silky strands behind her ear and fingered the four hoops in her lobe. “There is a devil and he lived in Salem for a while. You see, he has many faces and it suited him to be a warlock. He gave the women fits of sobbing, babbling and paralysis to keep the town busy. He made them think they saw witches because it was a good cover for his vicious bidding. Those women were puppets.” He peeked into Stevie’s mind. Uneasiness and shock skittered around her brain.
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She gasped and covered her mouth “It doesn’t seem possible that anyone could be that evil or callous. Someone had to miss you.” “I disappeared right before my marriage when I was twenty-two.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I later found out that Martha had no idea what happened to me. She didn’t care because she didn’t love me any more than I might have loved her. There were plenty of marriageable men around, so my disappearance wasn’t that important.” “Oh, Storm. You’re important to me.” She fiddled with the dusting of hair on his chest. Tears slipped across the bridge of her nose, wetting the pillow. He wiped her sadness away with his index finger. “Before I knew it, sunlight hurt, but it wasn’t lethal. My favourite apple pies tasted bland. I salivated at the mere thought of fresh blood. It made me sick. Even worse were the sexual cravings. The devil knows the way to a man’s brain is through his penis. I’m no different. I went from settlement to settlement defiling every young woman who caught my fancy. Many of them claimed to love me, but I doubt it. Almost out of the blue, I realised the foolishness of my actions, and from then on, I abstained from sex all together.” “When was your last time? With a woman?” She fidgeted and tried to cover their bodies with the sheet. Her innocence rocked his world. He chuckled and stilled her hand. “Besides you?” When she nodded, she succeeded in grabbing the bedcovers. “Other than me.” Storm fought the urge to sneak a taste of her. “Seventeen forty-five.” Her mouth fell open. “You went over two hundred and fifty years without sex?” A curl obscured her eyes. “No way. I saw those women at the clubs and watched you leave with them. There had to be others.” “None of those women was you.” This time, he gave in to his desire to taste her and kissed her. Stevie fisted the sheet in her hands. Storm rose up on one elbow. He nibbled his way from her lips to her jaw line. “You’re the only woman I see wherever I look.” “Me?” Her glazed eyes opened. “Storm, don’t joke around.” “Do you think I could hire someone I wasn’t attracted to, to rub her body all over mine each time a bullet whizzed past? Or, better still, do you think I’d work with a woman I didn’t feel comfortable taking out in public? On top of that, you’re beautiful, confident and natural. I couldn’t keep away from you because you fit my bill perfectly.”
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“Not Lettie?” Apprehension swirled in the azure depths of her eyes. “Never.” A small smile twitched on her lips. “Good. I’d hate to boost your ego by starting a catfight.” “Although it would be hot, my ego is fine as-is. Besides, I’m damned happy. I’m all yours, love.” She opened and closed her mouth. The words lingered in her mind where he could see them, but just out of reach. How the hell was he going to get her past her fear? Time, love, and more time. He’d give her forever and love her just the same. “So why become a PI?” She traced her middle finger down his cheek. “It isn’t like there was a lot of call for that back in the seventeenth century was there?” He pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “I watched the Salem Witch Trials firsthand. Those women did nothing wrong other than talk to their pets and attempt to make the best of a rough existence. Those rotten little girls wanted attention and the devil held their hands the entire way. You’d be surprised how much oppression I witnessed in three hundred and forty years. The devil gets his way much of the time. I knew if I followed along his path, I’d be no better than the one who turned me. In that instant, I decided to help those in need as a silent honour to those who couldn’t fend for themselves.” “Why did you change your name? So people wouldn’t know you?” Stevie leant forward to rest her forehead against his. “I doubt anyone really remembers that far back.” He twirled a lock of her hair between his fingers, savouring the silky texture. “After the change, I wasn’t Jacob Preston. I was a monster who fed off others. I tried Jacob Richardson for a while because I saw it on an advertisement, but that didn’t sound right. During the Civil War, I fought with an Ohio regiment as Richard Jacobs, but I didn’t like it. When I loaded trains in California in eighteen ninety-six, I went by Jake Richardson. In nineteen fifty-five, I took up boxing and decided I needed a dangerous name. One of the other fighters said I ‘threw punches like a storm’ and the nickname stuck. I feel more like Storm Richardson than Jacob Preston.” “Then my mate is Storm Richardson.” Her hand slid to his cock. “And based on the way this is stabbing me, I’d say you’re ready for round two.”
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“You have no idea how much I want you.” Blood surged through his body and engorged his dick. “We spent too long apart.” “Do you need to drink from me each time we make love?” He pressed a kiss to each eyelid and swept kisses over her cheeks. “Yes and no. If we make love as much as we have already, then no, because I’ll drain you. But because I’m rather fond of you, I can have a sip and be fine. Drinking from you as we have sex gives me power.” “Power?” “You energise me so I can hear things far away, sense your feelings and read your mind—stuff like that.” Her eyes flashed with a combination of desire and mischief. “Read my mind, eh? So what am I thinking right now?” “That you want a certain sexy vampire to ravish you again until you come and then when I’m done, you want me to do it all over again.” She smiled without a reply. “What are you thinking, bad girl?” No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get a read on her. He crooked a brow. So she wanted to play coy and figured out how to block him. Fine. He’d kiss her into submission later. “If you can read my mind, then what are you waiting for?” Flashes of her nude body riding his slid into his mind, accompanied by the vision of her staring up from between his legs. He clicked his tongue. “Yes, ma’am.”
**** After a nap, another round of love making and a shower, Storm strode into her bathroom. The heavy weight he carried on his shoulders for the last five nights faded into oblivion. He grinned and watched Stevie straighten her dark locks with her flat iron. “You don’t have to smooth all the curls out for me, babe,” he murmured and nuzzled her hair. “I like the natural style.” Stevie squared her shoulders and stared at their reflection in the mirror. “I do if I don’t want to look like a poodle who just suffered an electric shock.”
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Storm moved a lock of hair from her neck and kissed the bruises. Stevie winced and rubbed the purple spots. “I always figured it would look like two pock marks or scratches like they say in those sci-fi books. I never imagined a bruise with a pair of puncture wounds in the middle.” “Sci-fi books? Shit.” Storm licked the damage and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I wanted it to look normal so people wouldn’t question you. Not everyone believes people like me exist and I don’t want someone to harm you when I can’t be there. Besides, you have hickeys from me in other spots and that never bothered you.” She placed the hot flat iron on the counter and cupped his chin. “I like those very much.” Storm gazed into her eyes in the mirror’s reflection. Beyond the love and passion, he saw something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Are you disappointed?” “To be your mate?” He worked the muscle in his jaw. “Yeah. Are you having second thoughts?” She still hadn’t told him she loved him. Maybe the more he showered her with kind words and displays of affection, she’d be able to profess what lay in her heart. “Never. Being your mate is more than I could ever ask for.” “Good because I have some lousy news, my love.” He sighed. He’d rather slip her into his arms and lose himself in her sweetness. “The outside world intrudes on our bliss once again.” “Who this time?” Stevie sprayed hairspray and smoothed her fingers through her straight tresses. “I don’t know and I don’t care.” Storm brushed her hair aside and nibbled on her neck, indulging in her sweet taste. “I’m busy.” The intoxicating scent of her perfume and her arousal diffused his thoughts. “Storm.” When he met her playful gaze in the mirror, he propped his chin on her shoulder. “Fine. Edie doesn’t believe our evidence. I swear the woman won’t come to terms with the obvious.”
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“I’d say it’s time to head to the office and set up a meeting.” She unplugged the flat iron and put her brush in the vanity drawer. A wicked sparkle glinted in her eyes. “When we get our work done, then we can play.” “That’s why I love you.” His cock tented his jeans as he tugged her into his arms. What a vixen! She knew every little way to turn him inside out. “You keep me grounded until the moment you let me loose to misbehave.” “So let’s get moving so we can misbehave.” “Yes, ma’am.”
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Chapter Fourteen
The next evening, Storm sat in his office and shuffled through his rumpled datebook without reading a word on the pages. The wood panelled walls seemed less antiseptic and more like a home away from home with Stevie there. When she raked her fingers through her dark tresses, he longed to toss his cell across the room and ease her strain. He listened half-heartedly to the person on the other end of the line. He closed his eyes and took a long draw of breath. The scent of mint wafted through the air. When he opened his eyes and glanced at Stevie, her brows crinkled as she blew a lock of hair off her forehead. As soon as the phone conversation ended, Storm dropped the phone onto the scarred pine desktop. “Done. We meet with Edie tomorrow to discuss the final report.” “Good.” Stevie closed the lid on her laptop and stretched her arms high over her head. “And we meet with Noreen on Thursday to discuss her case, correct?” “Yes, because I need a vacation.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. His teeth ached for a taste of her. “I haven’t had nearly enough time alone with you.” When she stood and swept her palms down her hips, his mouth watered. “We’re done with the paperwork and it’s only eleven-twelve.” “We have a lot of evening ahead of us.” He nodded and wriggled his fingers. “Do you have something you’d like to do?” He peeked into her mind and saw nothing. “Are you blocking me, my little vixen?” “Maybe.” She inched around the desk. “I believe you wanted something before we left the house.” “Hmm.” The rosy scent of her arousal swirled around him, sending his desires into hyper drive. “I put in an order for a brunette, about five-three, blue eyes and smart as hell. Know anyone like her?” His cock swelled within his jeans. When he shifted, the strain of the denim created a delicious friction only she could slake. “I might.” When she settled down onto his thighs, he shoved his hands under her tank top to caress her heated flesh. She sighed and licked her bottom lip. “But she’s not available, so will I do instead?”
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“Only you.” Storm nuzzled her neck, nipping at the soft spot behind her ear. “My mate.” She slid between his knees and fumbled with his zipper. “Let me taste you.” Her words sent shivers down his spine. As Storm shifted in his seat, Stevie tugged the metal tab and opened his jeans. Freed from the constriction of his pants, Storm’s dick bobbed. A pearl of clear liquid shone on the blunt, purple tip. While she ran her tongue up the thick vein on the underside of his dick, she massaged his balls through the denim. He dug his nails into the armrests and succumbed to her ministrations. When she licked him clean, he groaned. “Yes, my love.” His eyelids drooped. “Oh, yes.” As she leant forward to take him into her mouth, his eyes opened and he covered his erection. Without her warmth, his hard-on wilted. Company—shit. “What?” Loose strands of her hair slipped forward over her eyes. Crimson suffused her cheeks. “Someone’s here.” He stuffed himself back into his pants and stood. Irritation flooded his nerve endings. “She’d better have a damn good reason for interrupting.” “What are you talking about?” Scrambling off her knees, Stevie adjusted her shirt. “Who’s here?” “Your sister.” Storm growled low in his throat. “It’s almost midnight, dammit.” An uneasy feeling skated through his system. Although he wasn’t sure what, something felt off. Gypsy never came within ten feet of her sister unless she wanted money or a place to crash. As he spoke, Gypsy pounded on the outer glass door. “Let me in! It’s not safe out here!” she screamed. “Please!” “She’s got a flair for theatrics.” Storm raked a hand through his hair and strode to the foyer. “But I don’t sense anyone else out there.” He flicked the deadbolt and closed his eyes. “Come on in, Gypsy. It’s safe for now.” When he opened his eyes, Gypsy skinnied through the open door and cowered away from the bank of windows. “My life is over and I’ll never be able to show my face in town again.”
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“How did you find us?” He clicked the lock shut and herded her to the inner office. Gypsy’s panic and trepidation radiated around her like a blood red aura. Instead of answering the question, Gypsy burst into tears and yanked the picture frame containing his certification off the wall. She slammed the glass against his desk and held a shard to her wrist. Stevie gasped. “Gypsy?” “All I asked was how she found us.” Storm held out both hands. “Gypsy, it won’t kill you.” “What’s wrong, Gypsy?” Stevie edged up next to Storm. “Please, I’ll help you if I can. Just put the glass down” “I know about him.” The younger woman slashed the shard of glass through the air and aimed it at Storm. ”I know the truth.” Storm opened his mouth to question her further and snapped it back shut. The air sizzled with understanding and his anxiety. A vision sharpened in his mind—Jamison. Storm bit back a snarl. “You’re one of his.” Stevie’s gaze vacillated between her sister and Storm. “What?” Panic infused her voice. “O’Toole sired her.” Storm folded his arms and dropped his chin to his chest. “He’s gaining strength.” His stomach soured. Soon, Jamison would have a whole damned army. “When?” Stevie’s complexion paled. She grabbed the glass from Gypsy’s hand. “I need details.” Gypsy whirled around and grabbed a tissue from the coffee table. She squared her shoulders. “You sure know how to be blunt. I’ll bet you learned it from the blood sucker. I oughta tear you limb from disgusting limb, Storm Richardson.” “Although you’re the sibling to my mate, I don’t have to take your shit, Gypsy. Save the bitchiness for when it counts.” Storm squeezed Stevie’s shoulder for reassurance. “He did a number on her, but she’ll be fine—eventually.” Gypsy didn’t ask to lose her life. She had every right to harbour anger, just not by destroying his office. Stevie shot him a dirty look, silencing him in an instant. The spicy scent of her irritation crackled around him. Instead of direct confrontation, he spoke through her mind. “She’ll be okay, love. It’s just a big transition and she’s ballistic. Trust me.”
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When he pressed a kiss to her temple, her response came to him loud and clear. “I trust you, Storm.” Stevie puffed out a long breath. “How long have you been… a vampire?” “Four days. Jamie told me he wanted to take our relationship to the next level. The sex was okay, but I didn’t want to be tied down and fought him on it.” Gypsy brushed her tangled blond hair from her eyes and collapsed onto the couch. Her irises blazed crimson and her lips curled in a sneer. “Bastard! He fucking used me!” Her fists balled. “Don’t fall for Storm’s bullshit, Stevie. He’ll use you and just like that worthless—” “Enough!” Storm arched a brow. “You have no idea what I’ll do or how I feel. I love your sister and would take a stake to the heart for her.” “I should still dismember you,” Gypsy snapped. “Aim your temper at Jamison.” Storm swallowed his building fury and smoothed a lock of Stevie’s hair between his fingers. “Until then, I’d rather drown in your sister.” “I’ll deal with you later.” Stevie rolled her eyes. Storm leaned close to his mate. “I hope so.” He grinned when she shivered. A faint hint of rose swirled around him, toying with his ragged nerves. Although he preferred to indulge in Stevie, Storm turned his attention back to Gypsy. “Now, why did he sire you?” Gypsy forked her fingers into her hair. “I don’t know. He said something about a turf war and revenge.” Shit. The battle wasn’t far off if Jamieson needed recruits. Storm grabbed his phone off the counter. Even with Stevie’s help, he couldn’t beat Jamison if he tried. “What are you doing?” She touched his arm with a trembling hand. He kept his voice calm. “We need help.”
**** Thirty minutes later, Storm stood with his fingers threaded together behind his head. He knew he’d have to face Jamison—the question was when. Storm drew a jagged breath into his lungs as Todd and Allan strode into the main room of his office. He trusted the men with his very soul. He rolled his tongue around his dry mouth. A sip of his sweet blood wine would take the edge off his frayed nerves, but he’d rather taste Stevie’s kiss.
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A moment later, Stevie elbowed her sister through the doorway with a tray full of glasses. She placed red plastic cups in front of Allan and Todd. She took the third cup from the tray and handed it to Storm. He dropped his arms and nuzzled Stevie’s neck. Her natural rose perfume lingered in the air around her. When she slipped her hand into the back pocket of his jeans and squeezed, a low growl rumbled in his throat. With the utmost care, Allan pulled a folding chair close to the desk and offered it to Gypsy. She inched out from behind Stevie and plopped into the seat. “Emergency meeting.” Storm stepped up to his desk and placed the plastic cup on the glass surface. He raked his fingers through his hair. “We need a plan.” “We’ll figure something out.” Stevie rubbed his back, easing some of his growing tension. Once he pushed his dented drink ware towards the middle of the table, Todd folded his arms. The muscles of his biceps bulged. “We need to lure that ass out into the open.” “How? He senses what we do.” Allan drummed on the sides of his empty cup. “Nothing’s a lure.” “We’ll use Stevie.” Todd shifted in his chair. The creak split the air. “No.” Storm pounded both fists on the desk top. “She’s the best bet.” Todd snorted. “He wants her and will stop at nothing short of killing you to get her.” As he shoved his chair away from the desk, Todd crossed his ankles. “She’s a doll, but what the hell has she got that he’s so fired up to take?” “That’s my sister, muscle man.” Gypsy thumped Todd’s bicep. “Be nice or I’ll kick your ass.” “That’s enough out of you,” Todd snapped. “Spoiled brat.” “Stop, both of you!” Storm jumped out of his seat and began pacing. His blood pressure spiked. His head throbbed. “Me—I’m his first victim and I’m the oldest. If I’m dead, he’s assuming the vampires I sired will choose to follow him.” He stopped walking and stooped his shoulders. Too many thoughts raced through his mind. “She’s the lure. If he takes or changes her, then he figures I’ll go back to his dark side or kill myself to end my suffering.”
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“Come on. That’s ridiculous.” Todd stood as well. “Stevie, I’m sorry. But that’s ridiculous, Storm. You’re a good man and I’m not gonna roll over and follow his twisted lead because he offs you.” “Although I don’t want to think of anyone dead, sometimes the simple answer is the best answer.” Stevie scooted out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Storm. “I know you won’t go rogue to satisfy him, but I think our safest bet is to let me entice him.” Storm grabbed her shoulders. “Have you lost your mind?” He cupped her jaw. Illogical thoughts tumbled in his head. “I refuse to let you put yourself in harm’s way.” “You can’t keep carrying the guilt from the initial attack.” With a curt tilt of her chin, Stevie shook her head. “I’ll meet him. I want to see this bastard fry, or whatever you all do when you die.” “Turn to dust.” As Storm turned his back on her, he thrust his fingers into his hair. His voice dropped to a whisper. “We turn to dust and fade away.” “What?” The heat from her touch seeped down to his bones and chipped away at his restraint. “I didn’t hear you, Storm.” Allan resumed drumming on the desktop. “For fuck’s sake, we turn to dust when someone finally impales us or hits the target and shoots us with a silver bullet. Didn’t you tell her that, Storm?” Storm slapped his thighs. “I didn’t have time.” Not when he’d rather spend every waking minute making love to her. Damn his libido and his bodily response to having her in his arms. “Right.”Allan drew his word out on a sigh. “I’m sure you had better things to do.” “It’ll be okay.” Stevie smoothed her fingers along his clenched jaw. “We’ll have time after I convince him to come out and play. Then you can shoot, stab and mutilate the man as far as I’m concerned.” “I’m with you, sis,” Gypsy shouted. “I wanna kick some vampire ass.” “Hush,” Stevie said over her shoulder. “I don’t like this, babe.” Storm yanked Stevie close, crushing her within his grasp. “I don’t like this at all.” “I’m not fond of him hovering like a damn cloud over our relationship.” She nuzzled his neck. “If we can stop him, then we’ll do it.” When she looked up, Todd stood a foot away.
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“We can have the showdown at the Starlight.” Todd scratched his chin. “We have the room and the equipment close.” “He’ll smell a set-up.” Allan sighed. “He always knows.” Giving her some space without letting go, Storm relaxed a bit. “Or his fucking hormones will coerce him to meet her. He’s led by his dick.” Gypsy laughed out loud. “Aren’t all men?” All four spoke in unison. “Shut up, Gypsy.” “I’m just sayin’.” Gypsy returned to working on her doodle of a penguin. “I don’t get any respect.” Todd aimed his thumb at Gypsy. “What do we do with the stand-up comic?” “Send her off to a convent,” Storm muttered. “Or bring her along. We’ll need the help.” “I wanna help this hunk of man!” Gypsy hopped out of her chair and threw herself against Allan. “If we’re goin’ down, I want him to protect me.” Red streaked across the Allan’s cheeks. He toyed with his hands, half wrapping one arm around Gypsy. “You’ll be the death of me.” “We need the ‘hunk of man’ for backup, if you don’t kill him with your natural charm first.” Stevie snickered. Gypsy clapped her hands and squealed. “You’re good with a gun, too? Here and I thought you just made great eye candy.” “You babysit the brat. I’ll watch Stevie’s back.” Todd twined his fingers behind his head. “I love to watch a train wreck.” “Yes! I’ll bet we’re destined to be together.” Gypsy stuck her tongue out at Todd and squeezed Allan. “You get the bullets ready and I’ll find plenty of stakes.” Todd crossed his feet on the table. “I assume his newly turned minions will be called to help him wage war. Are you in, Stevie?” Stevie glanced at Allan. “In. Are you?” “In.” “In,” Gypsy said in a sing-song voice. Todd nodded. “I’m in. What about you, Storm?”
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Storm touched his forehead to Stevie’s and sighed. “I want to rip the bastard limb from limb for starting this, so I am very much in.” Visions of his and Stevie’s time together played on a filmstrip in his mind. She brought joy and light back into his dark existence. She made him whole. He’d die without her, even if she never admitted she loved him. “Then we meet tomorrow at the Starlight—” Stevie nodded sharply, “—to end this.” If it meant losing his own undead existence, for Stevie, Storm would risk everything.
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Chapter Fifteen
At ten past midnight, Storm followed Stevie into the parking lot of his office. God, he could watch her ass sway and never get tired of it. If only he could relish it instead of worry she’d be taken from him. He rolled his tongue over his fangs, needing a taste of her one more time. Damn, he wanted to go home and wrap himself up in her love. In the distance, a streak of lightning lit up the sky, while the squeal of tires blotted out the hum of the traffic on the nearby freeway. The clean scent of rain mixed with an acrid stench filled the air and clogged his lungs. Storm’s brain tingled and his jaw clenched. The vision of Stevie on the ground reappeared in his mind. Blood-soaked, she grappled with his hand. Help me, Storm. Please. He stopped mid-stride on the unforgiving cement walkway. Something rumbled under his feet. Jamison. Fuck. “Get back in the office, Stevie and load your gun with the bullet clip in the safe.” “What’s going on, Storm? Why did you stop?” Stevie clutched Storm’s sleeve, crushing his forearm in her grasp. “We can’t leave. That’s Edie’s car.” “I don’t like this.” Storm clenched his fist. Electricity sizzled in the night air. “I don’t like this one bit.” The sky, already black, turned darker, as if someone extinguished the stars and the moon. The wind picked up, tossing Stevie’s hair about her shoulders and tickling his cheek. Her perfume and a strange new scent danced on the cool air. The car, a red sedan with a dent in the right front fender, screeched to a halt in front of the office. Throwing open the door, Edie burst out and strode onto the sidewalk. “I have your money.” She thrust a thick manila envelope into Storm’s hands. “And thank you for your services.” “Well, hello to you, Mrs. Tripp.” Stevie disengaged from Storm to shake hands with Edie. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out better for you.” “Huh? Yeah, hi.” Edie backed towards her car and glanced over her shoulder twice. “Look, thank you. I’ll file for divorce in the morning. I—I need to go.”
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Storm stepped forward and placed his hand on hers on the door handle. “What’s wrong? You left your car door open. Are you in trouble?” Try as he might, he couldn’t pry his way into her mind. Blank. But for a split second, he saw the situation through Edie’s eyes. Jamison turned Bruce right in front of her. To feed his bloodlust, Bruce killed Cherylyn. Edie’s fear and confusion hit him hard. She was scared out of her wits. “I’m fine.” Edie’s eyes widened. “Forget what you saw.” She peeked over her shoulder again, but this time she screamed. “I need to go now.” Without any further explanation, Edie scrambled to her car, threw it into gear and peeled out of the parking lot. “Storm? What just happened?” Stevie stepped before him. “Storm?” Storm gritted his teeth. A chill swept through him. He felt Stevie’s arms around him. Hell, he heard her voice as she spoke, but the onslaught of emotions and feelings slammed over him. Try as he might, he couldn’t process everything fast enough. One moment he saw the future—Stevie in a pool of crimson blood. The next moment, he saw Gypsy crying and his own form screaming. What the hell! “Dammit. Show your face, motherfucker. Stop playing games and show your fucking face.” Once he dropped to the sidewalk, Storm balled his fists and pounded the scarred surface. “Make this a fair fight.” “Talk to me. I can feel something strange in the air.” Stevie’s soft hand gripped his chin as she turned his gaze to hers. Her blue eyes blazed with fear and determination. “It’s time, isn’t it?” Behind her, Todd and Allan thundered across the parking lot. Storm didn’t have to look away from Stevie to know Gypsy clutched both men. All he saw was Stevie hurting. Stevie dying. He couldn’t stop the pain—not by himself. “Is it time?” Stevie pressed her forehead to Storm’s. “I’m right by your side through all of it. I’m not backing down now or ever.” “I love you, Stevie. No matter what.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, using the energy of her love to build his strength. “Storm.” Stevie’s eyes misted over, tearing at Storm’s heart. Her lack of confidence wounded him. Storm peered into her mind. She wanted to tell him how she felt, needed to. She didn’t
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know how to tell a vampire she loved him when she knew damn well she’d die and he never would. When she looked away, Todd strode from his place on the sidewalk with Allan and Gypsy hot on his heels. “We’re gonna need those guns, aren’t we, Todd?” “Get into the office with Gypsy so you don’t get hurt, Stevie.” Todd’s low voice rumbled in the room. Storm drew a long breath into his lungs. His throat burned. He wanted to scream. “Go, so I can protect you better.” “Jamison’s here.” Gypsy’s voice cracked. “And he wants blood—from all of us.” “Oh fuck,” Stevie whispered. She twined her trembling fingers with his. Storm squeezed her hand. “As long as I have a say, he’s fucked.”
Stevie stared at her sister for a long moment. The bastard wanted her blood? Fine. He wanted to kill Storm to get it? More than likely. She tipped Storm’s chin to meet his gaze once again. The soft mocha of his eyes burned a deep crimson. Heat, passion, revulsion, hatred, fear and longing rolled off him in waves. If she could take away his pain and end the nightmare of his existence, then she’d do it in a heartbeat. She’d do anything for the man she loved, including telling him how she felt. Behind her, the wind blew the glass foyer door wide open, shuffling papers about in its wake. Squaring her shoulders, Stevie strode out onto the centre of the parking lot. “I’m here, bloodsucker. Show yourself.” As she expected, Jamison materialised in the white glow of the lot light. “Ah, you’ve pleased me.” Dipping his chin, Jamison flashed a toothy grin and snapped his fingers. “Come my children, the time is near.” As he opened his arms, he closed his eyes. “I’m ready to take my bride.” “Your bride?” Stevie planted her feet and widened her stance. “Bullshit.” She belonged to one man—Storm. “Such a mouth. I’ll cure you.” Jamison snapped his fingers once more. This time, Lettie appeared in a flowing white gown at his side. Her hair whipped in the wind as if she were part of some sexy commercial for life after death. Her eyes blazed the same crimson as
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Jamison and Storm. Next to her, Bruce appeared. His eyes glazed and blood dripped from his cleft chin. “Come out, come out, Storm.” Lettie opened her arms. The sheer fabric of her dress plastered itself against her perky breasts, displaying her engorged nipples. “Come out and finish what we started, lover.” Revulsion swept over Stevie. She knew Storm well enough to know he’d never cheat, but what about when they were apart? Could he have stumbled into the arms of the blond vixen? Forcing the negative feelings aside, Stevie stood firm. “Go to hell.” “Never.” Lettie’s brows crinkled and her eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Go to your king. Storm needs me.” Although she didn’t see him, Stevie felt Storm’s strong presence at her right. Todd and Allan stood to her left. She focused on the positive energy of her lovemaking with Storm. “I have no king.” “I am your king.” One of Jamison’s brows kinked up. “Kneel.” “You took my sister and sentenced her to a life she didn’t ask for.” Stevie balled her fists and shored up her courage. “You stole the lives of countless others. You can have whomever you want. Why me?” “You elude me. The rest fall like dominoes, but not my precious Stephanie. I threaten you, and still you run to this perversion of a man. I’ll treat you with dignity, my bride. You’ll live with honour as my queen.” Lettie stalked towards Storm but stopped when Jamison spoke. When she turned the layers of her skirt churned about in a whirl. “Jamison, I thought I was your queen!” “You’re used goods, sweetheart.” Jamison snapped his fingers. “I’m through with you.” He snapped his fingers again. His lips curled into a frown “Why don’t you fall?” “I’m not like them! I’m stronger.” Lettie’s voice cracked as she whipped out a gun. “And if I can’t have Storm and be the queen, then no one can.” When she turned, hate flashed in her red eyes. She aimed at Storm’s head. “Beg me for your life. Plead with me to show you mercy.” Jamison crossed his arms. “Bruce, finish Storm. He’s a bother.” “Yes.” Bruce’s fangs dripped with blood as he strode past Stevie. “I’ll do your bidding, Master.”
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“Take me.” Stevie sidestepped Bruce and situated herself between Lettie and Storm. “I implore you to spare him.” Someone needed to stand up to evil. Stevie knew in her heart she’d chosen the right path. “Stevie, no!” Allan, Todd and Storm spoke in unison. “Oh, for God’s sake.” Lettie clicked the safety. “I’ll kill all of you if I have to and then I’ll let Bruce rip you to bits.” Reaching out with lightning reflexes, she grabbed Stevie’s arm and hurled her into Jamison’s embrace. “Be with the man you deserve.” “No.” Although the stench of death on Jamison’s breath soured her stomach, Stevie stood firm in her decision. Her resolve grew. No one would hurt Storm or Gypsy. None of her friends would die under her watch. Jamison and Lettie spoke in unison. “No?” Wind billowed around Jamison’s cape. “No one tells me no.” “I am.” “Ask your worthless sister. She’s cowering behind those doubly worthless men, but when I had her in my bed, she begged for more. Screamed for me!” His laugh crackled in the night air. “Now she’s my child!” “I belong to Doris and Lloyd Persing.” Gypsy stepped out from behind Todd and Allan. “And I never liked you. Your breath reeks like ass!” “Shut up, bitch.” Jamison stood toe to toe with Stevie. “Come, my bride.” “No!” Storm’s voice broke. “I won’t let you.” “Fool!” Baring his fangs, Jamison hissed. “You’re nothing to her. Bruce! Go!” When she glanced over her shoulder, Storm strained within Bruce’s grasp and against the curse freezing him to the spot. “Baby, fight it.” As Bruce’s fingers tore into Storm’s flesh, a blood curdling scream ripped from his throat. “Fight him, Stevie.” Jamison’s hand chilled her arm. “Come.” His single command thundered through the night air. A spark of lightning crackled in the distance. Obliging, Stevie angled her neck. “I hate you.” “My bride.” Jamison licked his lips. His fangs extended to razor-sharp points. “I knew you’d come to me.” Stevie balled her fists and winced as he pierced her skin. Where Storm touched her with finesse, Jamison tore at her with the ferocity of an animal. Storm’s words echoed in her
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head. No one but me. She closed her eyes and took a long breath. She belonged to Storm. She loved him. When she opened her eyes a second later, Jamison snarled. “Tainted.” He forced her away from his grasp with a shove. “Lying bitch. He cursed you to remain his.” “Then he’s tainted, too.” Behind her, Lettie shrieked. “She can’t do this to me. Storm belongs to me.” “Then do as you wish, pet.” Jamison shrugged. “You’ll pay for lying to us—with your life.” An ear-splitting crack thundered through the air. Warmth spread through Stevie’s stomach. What the hell? She wobbled on her feet. Pain radiated from her stomach in a tight spiral. The acrid scent of smoke filled the air. She clasped her belly and stared at her hands, stained with crimson. Her blood? She glanced at Storm as her vision went fuzzy. Maybe he couldn’t keep her safe after all. Oh shit.
Storm watched his world fall apart as Stevie dropped to the ground. Through sheer willpower, he overcame Jamison’s curse and thrust Bruce aside. The vampire flopped to the ground with a thud. Storm bounded to Stevie’s side. Blood oozed from the gaping wound in her stomach. He cradled her body in his arms. Tears wetted his cheeks. “Storm.” Her words came out in a whisper. “I love you.” She swallowed hard and her eyes fluttered shut. “So much. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I love you, my immortal.” Pain seared his heart. Fuck. No. O’Toole took too damn much, Storm refused to let him take Stevie as well. He ripped open his wrist with his fangs and forced a few drops of his blood past her lips. Although he hated himself for turning her, knowing she’d be with him for the rest of his immortal days relieved some of the sting—if he changed her in time. When Storm looked up, Jamison stood at Stevie’s feet. “You can’t be with her if you’re dead.” Jamison aimed the gun at Storm’s head. “And I can’t let you live now.” Storm ducked as Jamison’s shot went wild. The crack split the night air. “You fucking lose!” Storm stood and fired the gun Stevie carried in her shoulder holster. “No one takes my mate.” He emptied the clip of silver bullets into Jamison’s body. “No one!”
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“I made you.” Jamison screamed and threw his arms into the air. “You’re nothing without me.” Beside Storm, Todd roared and surged towards Bruce. He impaled the other vampire with ease. Allan pointed his weapon at Lettie’s heart. “This is for Gypsy and Stevie.” Within moments, he peppered Lettie’s body with bullet holes. As Jamison and Lettie fell to the ground, Storm dropped to one knee next to Stevie. Once again, he cradled her body. More tears burned behind his eyes. He hated crying—it was a sign of weakness. But he’d rather be nothing without her love. She did the one thing he’d never been able to do—stand up to the devil. He turned his face to the sky and screamed until his throat ached. So much death, so much destruction, and all of it because one man wanted to rule the world. It needed to end. “It’s over.” Blinking back the wetness in his eyes, Storm gazed at Stevie. “Babe?” Her blue eyes blazed with passion. With life. How’d he miss her survival? “I’m not ready to leave you, not yet.” She wiped her thumb over his cheek. “And I never will be.” Storm glanced at Todd and Allan who both had Gypsy in a bear hug. “Are you guys okay?” “Better than okay.” Allan nodded. Todd winked. “You both saved us all.” Wriggling from their collective grasp, Gypsy ran to Stevie’s side. She hugged her sister and kissed Storm on the forehead. “Now go home and take care of my badass sister.” “Forever.” Storm wrapped his arms around Stevie. He’d never let her go. Not as long as he had a breath in his immortal body. He belonged to her. Stevie smiled. “Forever.”
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Epilogue
A week later, Storm clung to Stevie as she slept. With Allan and Todd’s help, she’d moved into his house, while Gypsy moved into Stevie’s former apartment. Storm smoothed a lock of Stevie’s hair between his fingers, savouring the flaxen texture. Her rose scent soothed his soul. For a moment, he peered into her mind. In her dreams, she fantasised about him. A blush swept over his cheeks. If he thought her lusty in real life, her dreams needed an X rating. When she stirred and shifted her ass into the spoon of his hips, he groaned. Storm slid her hair off her neck and nuzzled the creamy flesh. “You’ll be the death of me, my love.” “You can’t die.” She giggled. “I won’t let you.” So she was awake. Without breaking the skin, he nipped the tender spot behind her ear. “Are you angry I turned you, love?” Stevie rolled over and looked Storm in the eye. “You didn’t ask, but I didn’t have a choice.” “How so?” His heart beat sped and his throat clogged with emotions he didn’t want to name. Stevie wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her pelvis into his. “When Jamison shot me, all I thought about was dying. Our lives together just got started and here he was to take it away. I’d never trade our time, but I sure as hell didn’t want to spend eternity miserable.” She flipped her hand through the air. “Oh, I knew you’d move on and find someone new. It would happen. You’re handsome. But I wasn’t sure I could spend that same eternity watching you make love to another woman.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, despite her attempts to laugh. “I guess that’s selfish, but I wanted you to change me so we could have forever together.” Storm kissed away her tears and held her tight. “That isn’t any more selfish than my changing you because I couldn’t bear to spend my eternity without you, too. You’re the only woman who matters to me, babe.” Reaching under the pillow, he produced a necklace. “You’re so important to me that I want to make our mating legal in the mortal sense.”
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Stevie covered her mouth with her hands and gasped. More tears streaked down her cheeks. “Are you serious?” “Take my last name. It’s not much, but it’s the best thing I can give you.” He fumbled to remove the emerald and diamond ring from the golden chain, “I love you, Stevie.” When he took her left hand in his, a tear slipped across the bridge of her nose. He wiped away the wetness with the pad of his thumb. “Happy tears, I hope.” She pressed her lips together. Her chin quivered as he slid the ring past her knuckle. “If you can handle my bruised and beaten heart, then I’ll marry you.” “Yes?” “Yes.” Storm cupped her cheeks and rained kisses all over her face. “I know an effective way to help heal your heart.” Her eyes sparkled and a grin curled the corner of her mouth. “How?” “Come a little closer, love. I’ll give you all the time and tenderness you need.” He smoothed his hand down her side and swatted her ass. “We have an eternity together. I’d prefer spending it making love.” “Shut up and kiss me.” “Yes, ma’am.”
About the Author I always dreamed of writing the stories in my head. Tall, dark, and handsome heroes are my favourites, as long as he has an independent woman keeping him in line. I earned a BA in education at Kent State University and currently hold a Masters in Education with Nova Southeastern University. I love NASCAR, romance, books in general, Ohio farmland, dirt racing, and my menagerie of animals. Email:
[email protected] Wendi loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Wendi Zwaduk Learning How to Bend Must Be Doing Something Right
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