Addicted. Lydia Parks
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then and found his boots and hat. The only thing he really had a stomach for was wandering the desert, remembering the old days.
And perhaps he’d run across his backstabbing little vixen somewhere out there.
6
Athena checked the dark sidewalk behind her as she hurried toward her apartment, grocery bags clutched in her hands. Soup cans clanged together as she broke into a trot.
For days she’d felt as though someone were following her, but she hadn’t seen anyone when she’d ducked into doorways. After the bizarre events of two weeks ago, however, she knew monsters lurked in the shadows.
The whole thing had started out as a lark—a stupid game to keep Chris from dumping her. Who in their right mind believed in vampires? If only she had someone to run to now—someone to keep her safe. With both parents long gone and no siblings, or even friends, Athena felt more alone than she had since her father’s death.
Fumbling with the keys, she glanced around as she worked to unlock the door. A soft evening breeze danced through leaves on small trees and made flowers sway, but she heard no footsteps over the music coming from a dozen apartments. When she finally got the door open, she hurried inside, closed and locked the door, and leaned against it for a moment to catch her breath.
As soon as she shut her eyes, she saw the vampire’s face as plainly as she did every night. His dark blue eyes, his lean, chiseled, weathered features, his waves of long brown hair streaked with gray—they combined to enhance his sexy, crooked smile. The man had been downright gorgeous. And he’d caused reactions in her body unlike anything she’d ever known before.
But he hadn’t been a man, had he? In her vision, his blue eyes began to glisten gold, glowing with a light of their own just as they had when he’d turned to look up at her after Chris’s attack. Had he really been concerned for her welfare at first? She could have sworn she’d seen something in his expression, something overriding the pain. Something quickly replaced by fury.
The worst part was the guilt. She hadn’t worried for her safety the way Chris had insisted she should. She’d been certain, somehow, that Jake wouldn’t hurt her as soon as he’d smiled at her. And somewhere along the way, she’d forgotten her mission to lure him into a trap. After the encounter in the back room of the Tunnel, all she’d been able to think about was how wonderful it would feel to have him inside her. When he’d searched the house without finding Chris, she’d assumed something had gone wrong and had secretly rejoiced at the prospect of an entire night alone with him. At that moment, she’d have done anything he asked without giving Chris a thought. Anything. How could anyone, or anything, have that kind of power over her?
She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Athena opened her eyes, trying to push back confusion and fear and guilt, and walked quietly to the kitchen. Tuned in to every noise around her, she unloaded grocery bags and placed canned goods in a cabinet. Next door, two small children yelled at each other in Spanish, and their father bellowed for them to shut up. Or maybe he wasn’t their father. Who knew, these days?
She placed a bag of spaghetti noodles next to the soup cans, then removed a jar of grapefruit juice. After stuffing the plastic bags under the sink, she turned to put the juice in the refrigerator and screamed as she dropped the jar.
He stood before her, looming over her, glaring.
Athena staggered back until she hit the counter.
He stepped forward, stopping less than an arm’s length away.
“What…” she stammered, “how…the door…”
His lips curled into something resembling a grin as he held up her jar of juice, effortlessly snatched from the air as it fell. “I believe you dropped this.”
Athena stared at the bottle, and then at the monster, her body shaking uncontrollably. She reached back to steady herself with the counter.
He turned and, as if he were simply a welcomed guest, opened her refrigerator, placed the juice inside, and closed it.
Her brain refused to move beyond panic as she watched him.
He turned to face her again, this time leaning against the opposite counter and folding his arms across his chest. He wore jeans, cowboy boots, and a dark blue shirt that would have made him even more attractive if she hadn’t known what he was.
Dear God, she was about to die.
She had to get away.
Unable to do anything else, Athena turned and bolted for the door.
She stopped with a jerk like a dog at the end of a leash as he caught her by the arm.
“Oh, no, you don’t.”
He pulled her up to him, backed her to the wall, and leaned close, moving around her head as if he were sniffing her.
A deep, terrifying growl vibrated through the room.
“It took me a week to find you, sweet thing. You don’t want to leave just yet.”
His throaty voice, dripping with poisonous danger, made her shiver as she closed her eyes. Her heart pounded, her stomach knotted, and her knees buckled.
“Yeah,” he whispered, nuzzling her hair, “that’s better.”
Still gripping her arm, he stroked her shoulder with his free hand, and she suddenly realized he might have something else in mind besides killing her.
“Please,” she managed to croak, “don’t.”
“Don’t what?” His voice vibrated directly in her ear.
“Don’t…hurt me.”
She opened her eyes as he pulled away and found him staring at her.
And then he laughed.
Athena’s mouth went dry and she worked to swallow.
Cruel amusement sparkled in his eyes as he touched her face, following the line of her jaw with a deceivingly tender touch.
“Tell me, darlin’, just what do you think would be a fair trade for attempting to end my existence? Your life? Your virtue?”
She tried to swallow again, but without success.
He suddenly spun her around to face the wall and held her, his arms around her waist, as he moved his mouth over the top of her shoulder.
In spite of her fear, the memory of Jake holding her in the back room of the Tunnel, bringing her to a wondrous climax with his expert touch, flooded her senses with a strange excitement. Athena reached out and pressed both hands against the wall. She tried to speak—to ask him again to stop—but nothing came out.
“Last time we did this,” he whispered, “you came all over my fingers. Remember?” His hand slid down the front of her shorts, covering her crotch as he nipped the skin on the side of her neck. “This time, we’ll try something a little different.”
Her body reacted to him as it had before by tightening and tingling from her neck to her knees. Her nipples puckered almost painfully, aching to be touched.
He dragged one strap of her sleeveless shirt from her shoulder with his teeth, then kissed the exposed skin with cool lips, tasting, licking.
Her body shook again, but this time not from fear. God, how could she crave the touch of this monster? She wanted his fingers against her skin, stroking her clit, teasing her cunt, not outside her jean shorts.
And then a strange tingle, almost a touch but not, started up the backs of her thighs, as if a dozen feathers moved across her skin.
A soft noise rose from Athena’s throat and she fell forward against the wall.
“Yes,” he said, his voice deeper, gravelly, “this time I won’t ask.”
As he kissed her shoulder, sucking