The Vampire Hunter (2 page)

The heat she'd felt earlier now rushed to Jennifer's face. And she wished she could take back her idiotic admission. She had wanted a taste of him, though.

After his crazy passionate kiss, she wanted more than a taste. She wanted all of him…buried deep inside her. “You're not in any danger with me,” she assured him. “I didn't mean that like it sounded.”

“You don't want to bite my neck?”

Just his asking the question had her fangs lengthening more, but she closed her lips over them and shook her head. “I don't…do that….”

“You really are in denial.”

“Denial?” Did he know that she lied? That she hadn't been satisfied with just a lick of his salty-sweet skin?

“You're in denial of what you are,” he clarified. “Why did you become one of them if you didn't want to live that life?”

“Because I wanted to live.”

“The cancer had come back?”

The old fear rushed over her, choking her, so she could only nod.

“You fought it before.”

“At my sister's expense. I wanted to live but I didn't want to risk her life,” she explained. “I didn't want my parents and doctors putting her through any more painful procedures.”

He turned toward the portrait of Eve in the hospital bed, and his icy eyes warmed some with sudden understanding. “You did it for her.”

“And for me,” she insisted. She hadn't acted selflessly. “I wanted to live.”

“Are you?”

“Of course. I'm alive.”

“But are you living? Or are you hiding out down here, from the sun—from the rest of the society, painting your portraits of the life you left behind?”

She flinched at the accuracy of his assessment.

“And how do you live…if you don't drink blood?”

“You don't drink your milk straight from the cow, do you?” she asked.

He chuckled, that gruff chuckle that had her pulse tripping wildly. “So you want to taste me but you don't actually want to bite me?” he asked.

She swallowed a moan as temptation overwhelmed her. “I don't have to bite you to taste you.” Maybe it was because he'd taunted her about hiding out that she was emboldened enough to touch him. She stroked her fingers over his fly before reaching for the tab of his strained zipper. The metal teeth sighed as she lowered it. Then she unsnapped his jeans and freed his erection from the flap of his cotton boxers.

“Jennifer…” He groaned her name as she leaned over and closed her lips around him.

Flicking her tongue across the smooth tip of him, she teased a bead of desire from him before she sucked him deeper in her throat. Her fangs scraped down the sides of his shaft, and he jerked in reaction.

Then he clutched his hands in her hair and pulled her mouth away. “No…”

“I wasn't going to hurt you,” she promised.

“But I'm hurting. And I'm going to make you hurt, too,” he said as he covered her mouth with his and started stroking his tongue between her lips

His hands smoothed over her sweater, cupping her breasts through the thin cashmere. She arched and pressed into his palms, wanting more.

He pulled back from the kiss to drag the sweater over her head and drop it onto the paint-spattered hardwood floor. She wore only a thin lace bra beneath, but he unclasped that and it, too, dropped on to the floor. His hands shook slightly as he fumbled with the clasp and zipper of her pants. Then they fell down, leaving her standing before him wearing only a thin strip of lace.

He groaned again—even though she hadn't touched him. And he stared, his gaze skimming over every exposed inch of her. “You are so damn beautiful….”

He said it like it was a bad thing, like he resented her for her beauty. Like he blamed her for it.

Before she could take offense and come to her senses, he was touching her again. His fingers skimmed over every inch of her now, stroking her skin into goose bumps of awareness. Heat streaked through her, so that her nipples peaked and her blood pounded hot and heavy through her veins. Then his lips replaced his fingers, kissing and suckling.

He pulled the tip of a breast into his mouth and teased the sensitive nipple until she cried out at the sensation. “I'm hurting,” she said, as an unbearable pressure built in her womb. “Please…”

He tore the skimpy lace free of her hips. Then his fingers stroked through her curls, teasing the nub of her femininity before easing inside her. She arched into his hand, seeking release from that excruciating pressure. He lowered his head to her breasts again, tugging at a nipple. Heat streaked through her, and she moaned as some of the pressure eased. But even as it eased, he built it again…with his touch. Before he could release her tension, he pulled back. He shucked his long coat and his shirt, dropping them atop her clothes. Then he stepped out of his pants and pushed down his boxers.

Her breath caught at the size of him. He was so big. So aroused, his engorged flesh throbbing. “Where?” he asked. “Where's your bedroom?”

Confident he would follow her, she led him down the short hall to her room and flicked on the lights. Wall sconces illuminated tiny circles on the brocade wallpaper and cast a gold glow onto her soft silk sheets. She kept walking, straight to the bed, dropping onto the mattress before turning back to him. He dropped the clothes he'd gathered upon the floor and followed her down onto those silk sheets, covering her body with his.

He was all satin skin, stretched taut over hard muscle. She wanted to taste every inch of him. But she could only wrap her arms around his back before he thrust inside her. She arched, trying to take him deep, but her unused muscles screamed in protest. And the scream slipped free of her lips.

He tensed, perspiration breaking out on his forehead. “Damn. You're—” He pulled out and stood up. “You're—”

“Not anymore,” she pointed out, her body aching from the possession of his. The pain receded, leaving the frustration of the pleasure that eluded her.

“Damn.” He groaned. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm not,” she said, and she held out her arms for him to join her again. “Don't stop.”

Dilated pupils darkened his pale blue eyes, and he shook his head. “I can't stop now.”

But instead of covering her body with his again, he leaned over her. First he kissed her lips in a long, gentle kiss. Then he moved his mouth down her body, over her breasts and down her stomach. He parted her legs, and his mouth soothed the pain his body had inflicted on her.

She clutched at the sheets, fisting them in her hands, and cried out—this time in pleasure as the tension broke and she came. She had never felt anything as intense—not even when she'd changed from human to vampiress.

But before she descended from the ecstasy, he was there again. His body covered hers, and he eased inside her, gently this time. He didn't thrust hard or deep enough. So she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his lean waist, then arched her hips, too. She took him deeper.

“Okay?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

She nodded. “More than okay…” she murmured, the pressure building again.

He thrust harder. Deeper.

She reached her arms around his broad shoulders, holding on, meeting each of those thrusts. Panting for breath, she buried her face in his throat. As he strained, the cords in his neck distended, and his skin brushed against her lips and her fangs, tempting her to bite….

 

Liam was tempted. To just let her bite him. But could she stop with just that taste she wanted? He hadn't been able to stop with just a kiss. He wanted more. Even when he'd discovered that she'd never made love before, he hadn't been able to stop.

And now, with her muscles clutching him tight, holding him deep inside her heat, he couldn't stop…unless she killed him. So he was tempted to just let her bite him….

Her lips brushed his throat, along with the sharp point of her fangs. Then she threw back her head and screamed, as she came again. Wet heat poured over him, and he thrust hard. Deep. And his world exploded with pleasure so intense he screamed…her name.

His hands shaking in reaction, he pushed her damp hair back from her flushed face. “You okay?” he asked again. “I didn't hurt you?”

“No, that was…”

“Worth waiting for?” he asked, still stunned that she had been a virgin and that he found her innocence both a gift and a burden. He'd given her pleasure, but would she expect more? Would she expect a commitment?

Her eyes bright, she nodded.

“Why did you?” he asked, slowly withdrawing from her. He groaned as her muscles clutched him yet. Then he flopped onto his back beside her. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he rolled her onto his chest. “Why did you wait?”

“First I was sick,” she said. “Too sick to worry about it. To want it. And then I was…” Her breath shuddered out, warm against his skin. “Then I didn't know what I was.”

“That makes two of us.”

“You didn't know what I was or what you are?” she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“You. I thought you were a killer.”

She pressed a kiss against his chest. “You were wrong.”

He tangled his fingers in her golden hair, and his breath shuddered out with deep relief. “I'm glad.”

For twenty years he'd hated her, had lived for the day he would track her down and exact his revenge. He should have been disappointed, devastated even. And he was that Bryan's killer was still out there. But it wasn't the woman his brother had loved. The woman that Liam worried he could love, too.

Was it true that hatred was just the other side of love?

“What about you?” she asked. “What are you?”

“I'm not a killer. But I have killed—in the line of duty.”

“You're a police officer?”

“Marine,” he said with pride. In the corps he'd found the brotherhood he'd missed since Bryan's murder.

“You're not a…”

“A…?”

“Vampire.”

He let out a short chuckle. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you know so much about the Secret Vampire Society.”

“And I'm still alive?”

“How did you learn so much…unless you're one of us?” she questioned him.

“My specialty is intelligence ops. I have ways of finding out information that nobody else can.” Neither the methods he'd employed nor the information he'd learned had allowed him to sleep easy at night.

“You're not going to stop, are you?”

“My job?” he asked. “I retired early.” As much as he'd loved being a marine and serving his country, it had been time for him to quit. Before he'd entirely his soul. Hell, it wasn't his job that would have cost him his soul; it was his overwhelming need to avenge his brother's death.

“You retired early to become a vampire hunter,” she deduced. Correctly.

“I only ever intended to hunt down one vampire.”

“Me.”

He shook his head. “The one who killed my brother.”

“And you're not going to stop until you find him or her.”

“You want me to?” he asked, nearly as stunned as he'd been at finding her untouched. “You want me to let Bryan's killer go unpunished? I thought you loved him, too.”

“I do.” She sighed and amended, “I did.” She hadn't had twenty years to get used to Bryan being gone. “I also knew him really well, and I know that he wouldn't want you risking your life to avenge his death.”

Liam pulled his hands from her hair and sucked in a breath as guilt pressed more heavily on his chest than her slight weight. “I wonder what he would have felt about this—about what we did.”

Would Bryan feel that his brother had betrayed him?

“Bryan would want you to move on. He would want you to be happy.”

For the first time in years, a genuine smile tugged at Liam's mouth. “He would.” And that was why he missed his brother so damn much. “And that's why I can't do it—not until I learn who killed him.”

“And kill that person.”

“Bryan deserves justice.”

“What about you? What do you deserve?”

Her? The woman his brother had loved so obsessively that he'd died looking for her? Liam didn't deserve the life that should have been Bryan's. “I have to do this.”

“Not now,” she said. “Stay here…with me…for just a little while longer….”

“What about your sister?” he asked. He had used Eve, but he hadn't wanted any harm to come to her. “Don't you want to check on her?”

“I believe she's safe with the professor,” she insisted. “He's not a killer. He's not the one who hurt Bryan.”

“But can you think of any member of the society who would have killed him?”

She shook her head and yawned. “I'll think about it….” she murmured sleepily.

He'd kept her out after sunrise; he'd risked her life and sapped her strength then he'd made love to her. He could let her sleep now. He even found himself drifting off, his eyes closing as consciousness slipped away from him.

But he had been a soldier too long to sleep too deeply. So he awoke the minute he heard the noise, the faint scratching at the front door as someone jimmied the lock. Then the hinges whispered as the door opened. A floorboard creaked in the living room. Another creaked in the hall. Then there was the faint shift of air of someone else breathing as the intruder entered the bedroom.

Someone had gone to a great deal of effort to break into Jennifer's home. It could have been the professor or even her sister, coming to check on her. But Liam's instincts, the ones that had kept him alive during several deployments, warned him otherwise. Whoever had broken into the apartment didn't intend to protect anyone; he intended to kill.

Maybe Liam wouldn't have to look any further for Bryan's killer. Maybe the murderer had found him.