"What?" she asked with disbelief.
"Abigail?" Mary said gently, and when she glanced at her, the blonde opened her mouth and tapped a fingernail on her upper front teeth.
For a moment, Abigail stared at her blankly, not understanding, and then she ran her tongue around her teeth and felt the sharp tip of first one point, and then another. They weren't fully out, just poking down a bit past her other teeth. They weren't even down far enough to impair her speech. But they shouldn't be out at all. She pressed her lips closed with dismay.
"They have been out since you hugged Jet," Mary said gently.
"Oh, God," Abigail muttered and turned to rush out of the bar.
She'd barely taken half a dozen steps outside when Tomasso scooped her up from behind and continued on without slowing.
"It is all right. He did not see. No one did," Tomasso murmured as he carried her along the path. "And you did not bite him. You pulled away."
"But I didn't even realize I was . . ."
"Hungry?" he suggested gently.
Groaning, Abigail buried her face in his neck, then quickly shifted her head lower when she noted that he smelled yummy too.
"This is new for you, Abigail." His voice was a soft rumble. "Of course you did not know. In time you will recognize the signs that you need to feed."
"But I had four bags before we left," she complained. "And we weren't even gone that long."
"You were very ill when I turned you," he said gently. "I am amazed that you are even conscious already. But the turn is not done. It is continuing as we speak. You will need a great deal of blood over the next little while. This is normal. I promise."
Abigail just shook her head, and then glanced around with surprise when he stopped and set her on her feet. They'd reached the villa. He'd walked all the way back. Or run, she thought with a frown. Good Lord, he moved fast when he wanted to. The villa was one of four on the very outskirts of the resort, separated from the rest of the buildings by pools and boutiques and then a stretch of mini jungle for privacy. The car that had collected them and brought them to the main area had taken longer than Tomasso had needed to bring her back.
Finished unlocking the door, he turned back to her, but Abigail shook her head, and slipped past him into the villa. She didn't need to be carried. She wasn't sick, just mortified and scared of what she could have done to her friend.
And apparently hungry, Abigail tacked on with disgust as she led the way through the villa to the room where she'd spent the better part of four days. Reaching the cooler, she flipped the lid open, a bit startled to feel how cold it was.
"It is a hybrid," Tomasso commented gently, apparently having noticed her surprise. "It functions as a normal cooler, but also plugs into electrical sockets starting a refrigerating unit inside. When plugged in it stays cooler than a fridge even. It is better for the blood."
Abigail let her breath out slowly and plucked out one of the bags of blood. Straightening, she opened her mouth and thrust the bag at her teeth as Tomasso had done earlier, but the bag just bounced and slid away. Frowning, she started to try again, but Tomasso caught her hand gently to stop her.
"Your fangs have retracted," he explained gently.
Frowning, Abigail ran her tongue along her teeth and, sure enough, they'd slid back to where they'd come from. There was nothing to pop the bag to.
"Figures," she muttered wearily.
"My poor Abigail. You have had a very tough time of late," Tomasso murmured. Bending to scoop her up, he carried her to the bed and settled himself to sit on it so that he could lean against the headboard with her in his lap. He then simply held her, and rubbed her back gently.
"Jet cares for you a great deal," he murmured when she finally relaxed and rested her head on his chest.
Abigail immediately tensed and sat up with a scowl. "I suppose Lucian is down there right now wiping me from his memory."
"I do not think so," Tomasso said thoughtfully.
"No?" Abigail asked with surprise.
"No," he murmured, and then met her gaze and smiled crookedly. "Shall we bring your fangs on and get you fed?" Running one finger down her cheek, he added, "Then we can make love. I have ached for you since the night we shared the bath."
Abigail's eyes widened and she started to nod, and then just as quickly shook her head as she recalled her screams as he'd pleasured her. "I make too much noise," she pointed out with embarrassment. "The others would hear."
"I could tie you to the bed and gag you," Tomasso offered with a wicked smile.
Abigail raised her eyebrows, and pointed out, "The gag I get, but the tying me up part wouldn't help me be quiet."
"It would keep you from tearing away the gag," he explained.
"Oh, right. Of course," she said with amusement, but the idea of being tied up and at his mercy had kind of turned her on. Actually, it had really turned her on, so she wasn't surprised when Tomasso took the bag of blood she was still clutching, popped it to her mouth and it stuck. Her fangs were out.
Apparently deciding to take advantage of that gag, Tomasso caught the edge of her sundress and started to tug it down.
Suddenly shy, Abigail grabbed at the cloth, trying to stop him.
Tomasso stopped at once, and bent to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, then drew his head down to claim one soft earlobe. Abigail moaned around the bag in her mouth, and tilted her head to give him better access as he released the lobe and nibbled a path down her throat. He didn't try to tug her dress down this time, but simply claimed one quickly budding nipple through the cloth, his mouth dampening the material around the erect bud as he nipped and flicked his tongue.
That brought a groan from her and now it was Abigail who pulled the material down for him, freeing her eager flesh. She felt more than heard the soft laugh that slipped from his lips and feathered across her sensitive skin.
Catching her by the waist, Tomasso lifted and turned her to straddle him. She started to sit on his lap that way, but he urged her to remain upright with her knees on either side of his hips. It put her breasts right in front of his face and he took advantage, cupping each breast in a hand and holding her in place as he leaned forward to flick his tongue over first one, and then the other nipple.
The bag was empty now. Relieved as she noted this, Abigail tore it away and caught Tomasso by his ponytail to tug him away from her breasts. When he lifted his head, she lowered her own head to kiss him, her mouth eager and demanding. Tomasso kissed her back briefly, his hands slipping away from her breasts to clasp her by the waist, and then he broke the kiss and lifted her off his lap. Abigail found herself set on her knees on the bed beside him and then he was off the bed and at the cooler. He was back before she could even sit down on her feet, three more bags in hand. Tomasso set them on the bedside table, then reclaimed his spot and lifted her to kneel over his lap once more.
"Perfect," he decided, his gaze roving over her breasts.
Tomasso then glanced to her face and smiled. His voice was a deep rumble as he murmured, "Let us see if we remain conscious for all three bags."
Abigail's eyebrows flew up and she opened her mouth to respond, only to have him pop a fresh bag of blood to her teeth.
Grinning at her startled gaze, he then leaned his head forward to begin laving and then suckling at one breast as his hands dropped to slip under the hem of her sundress and slide around to brush up the back of her legs.
Abigail watched wide-eyed, very aware that she'd had no panties to wear when she'd donned the dress. Mary had told her on the way to the restaurant that she had indeed bought her some. Apparently they were in a drawer in this bedroom, but Abigail hadn't known that at the time and had gone without. Actually, she hadn't even thought of them, Abigail acknowledged on a sigh as Tomasso's fingers reached her bottom and began to massage and squeeze.
"I love your body, cara," Tomasso growled against her breast as he let one hand drift around to the front of her leg. Leaning back then, he watched her
face as he added, "I loved it on the beach, and I love it here. It is so perfect, so responsive to me and gives me such pleasure."
His hand had been drifting up her inner thigh as he spoke and now brushed between her legs. Abigail gasped, and jerked slightly at the teasing, featherlight caress. Tomasso smiled, but she felt his hand drift away, gliding down her leg and out from under her skirt. Confusion clouded her gaze, and then he tore away the now empty bag hanging from her teeth and popped a fresh one to them.
"Just two more bags left," he murmured, lifting the front of her skirt to tuck it into the neckline of her sundress where it had gathered around her waist. He then spent a moment just staring at what he had revealed, a smile playing on his lips until Abigail suddenly dropped to sit on his thighs, and reached for the button of his dress pants.
"Greedy," Tomasso teased lightly, but did not prevent her from undoing the button and zipper. However, once she'd managed to free him from the cloth and his erection sprang up, he caught her by the waist and lifted her back onto her knees again before she could touch him.
"Not yet," he cautioned, and when Abigail started to try to sit back down so she could reach him, Tomasso slid his hand between her legs to prevent her being able to. At least, she suspected that was his intention, but the moment his fingers pressed against her, Abigail gasped and shifted her hips, sliding across them.
Tomasso stiffened and groaned as pleasure slid through them both, and then began to move his fingers himself. Circling, rubbing, plucking. Abigail braced her hands on his shoulders as her legs began to tremble, afraid they would give out any moment, but her hips never stopped moving. Seeming to realize the problem, Tomasso grabbed her upper leg with his free hand, bracing her as he continued to drive them both crazy. Then his mouth found one breast again, but now he was suckling almost frantically, drawing almost painfully on the sensitive nipple as his fingers moved more swiftly.
"Tomasso," she gasped, tearing the now empty bag away. "Please."
He let her nipple slip from his mouth and glanced toward the side table. Suddenly the hand between her legs was gone. Even as Abigail moaned in protest at the loss, another bag was popped to her mouth, and Tomasso was urging her down until she felt his erection bump against her opening.
"Last bag," he gasped, his face strained as he met her gaze, but he was clasping her hips, his hands no longer caressing, but also keeping her from lowering further.
He was going to wait for the bag to empty. Abigail just knew it, but she couldn't wait. Eyes narrowing on his, she reached down to touch herself tentatively, then began to caress, a triumphant smile claiming her lips around the bag as she saw her reaction to the touch in his face.
"Oh, cara," Tomasso groaned, and let her slide his length until her bottom slapped his upper thighs. Abigail continued to touch herself, her caress becoming more urgent and her hips shifting on him. Then she clasped his shoulder with her free hand to help lever herself up and down, adding that friction to the caress.
"Si. Do not stop, cara. Keep touching yourself," Tomasso ground out between his teeth, his hips bucking under her. And then his hands claimed her breasts, his thumbs and forefingers finding and pinching her nipples, and Abigail threw her head back on a cry as the night exploded around them.
Fourteen
Abigail woke up to find herself still in Tomasso's lap, slumped against his chest, her back complaining at the position. Grimacing, she eased carefully away from him to sit up, then froze, her eyes widening with horror.
There was blood everywhere. At least she, Tomasso, and the bed were covered with it. Recalling the still half-full bag of blood that had been at her mouth when they'd . . . finished what they were doing last night, Abigail glanced around for it and found the torn bag on the bed next to them. It had either exploded from the pressure of her clamping her mouth around it when they'd found their release, or it had got torn and splashed everywhere.
At least it was only on them and the bed and hadn't splashed on the walls or something, Abigail told herself with a grimace as she eased off of Tomasso's lap to stand beside the bed.
"No more sex while feeding," she muttered to herself as she tried to decide what to do. The blood was dry and sticky and Tomasso was still sleeping. She couldn't possibly clean it up without waking him. Grimacing, she shifted from one foot to the other, then sighed and turned to head into the bathroom.
She'd take a shower and clean herself up, and then see if Tomasso was awake, Abigail decided, crossing the bathroom without daring to look in the mirror. She didn't want to see the horror she no doubt was. She probably looked like a slasher victim with the dried blood everywhere. It was even in her hair, she noted as she brushed a stiff strand behind her ear.
Shaking her head, Abigail opened the shower door and turned on the taps, thinking that she'd never in her life imagined starting a day like this. Certainly as a child, she'd never daydreamed about growing up, becoming a vampire, and waking up encrusted in dry blood.
The moment the water was warm enough, Abigail stepped under the spray to let it start doing its work. Cleaning off dry blood turned out to be much harder than you would think. Some of it washed away quickly enough, but some seemed to cling determinedly and it took some serious scrubbing and three shampoos to get it all off her skin and out of her hair. Abigail managed eventually, though, and stepped out to quickly dry off, then wrapped the towel around herself to return to the bedroom.
Tomasso was still sleeping, although she wasn't sure how he could be in that position. He was slumped upright, with his back against the headboard and his head bent and resting on his chest.
Someone was going to have a crick in his neck when he woke up, she decided, and then wondered if the nanos would allow for that kind of thing, or prevent it. Her back had hurt when she'd first woken up, but that pain had been gone by the time she reached the bathroom door.
Yay nanos! Abigail thought wryly and moved to the closet to pick another sundress. Today she chose a baby-blue one with white polka dots. She also found the panties in the drawer where Mary had said they would be. There was no bra though, but then with her amazing new gravity-defying boobs, she could get away without one, Abigail thought as she carried everything into the bathroom to dress.
With no need for makeup, she was finished getting ready in maybe a minute and a half, two minutes tops, then she returned to the bedroom to find Tomasso still sleeping. Abigail paused and shifted her feet briefly, wondering if she shouldn't wake him. She was sure it would be less alarming than him waking up alone in a bloody bed later. But then she sighed and headed for the door instead. Abigail didn't know about him, but she could get pretty cranky when someone woke her from a deep sleep. It was better to just let him rest.
"And that decision has absolutely nothing to do with your suddenly feeling shy about the way you were bouncing around on his pogo stick last night," Abigail muttered as she left the room.
The living/dining area was empty when she crossed through it and Abigail was just beginning to think everyone else was up and had gone down to the restaurant for breakfast when she stepped into the kitchen and spotted Justin by a coffeepot that was giving off the most delicious scents. There was another man seated at the kitchen island, with his back to her. It wasn't Dante or Lucian though. Abigail followed the scent of coffee around the island, glancing curiously to the newcomer as she went, and then came to a stumbling halt.
"Jet?" she said with surprise . . . and not a little guilt. She'd left him down at the bar with Lucian, who she was quite sure could not be trusted, and hadn't given him a thought since. She so sucked as a friend.
"Morning, Abs." He grinned at her easily, looking completely relaxed and happy.
Abigail was less so. Her gaze shifted to Justin to give him a look of reprimand as she wondered why he hadn't come to let her know her friend was here. Then she glanced back to Jet and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were here. When did you arrive?"
"Last night," he said on a laugh.
"What?" she asked with confusion.
"I slept here, Abs," Jet said with amusement, and then explained, "When Lucian learned I couldn't get a room in the area, he suggested I stay here too. I bunked with Justin."
"Oh," Abigail said weakly, her eyes now returning to Justin with concern as she worried that Jet might have been a midnight snack.
"There are twin beds in my room," Justin said with a shrug and then added dryly, "And he's fine. Completely unmolested."
When Abigail flushed guiltily, Jet frowned and glanced from one to the other. "What? You were concerned for my virtue?" he asked on a disbelieving laugh. "Abs, I can take care of myself. Besides, Justin's as straight as I am. He has a girlfriend named Holly. Apparently, she's a goddess," he added with a teasing glance at Justin.
"She is," Justin assured him, and then set down the coffee he'd just made and headed for the door. "I'm going to call her. Be back in a minute."
They watched him leave and then Jet glanced back to her in question. "Is there something I should know?"
"What?" she asked with alarm, and then turned quickly away, busying herself with fetching a cup and pouring coffee to avoid his gaze. "No. Don't be silly."
"Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed a little freaked out that I'd shared a room with Justin."
"No," Abigail muttered, adding cream and sugar to her cup and stirring. When she finally turned to see Jet eyeing her closely, she grimaced and moved around the island to sit on the stool next to his and shrugged. "I don't really know these people. I mean, I know Tomasso, obviously, and Dante and Mary seem nice, but I'm not sure about Lucian and Justin is all."
"Hmm." Jet took a sip of coffee, set his cup back and then said, "Well, I only met them last night, but they both seem okay to me. Justin is . . ." He paused, considering his words, and then said, "Well, he seems a bit of a smart-ass, but I think he has a good heart, and he definitely loves his girl. The guy couldn't stop talking about her. He's really missing her."
"That's sweet," Abigail murmured, her lips curving into a small smile.
"As for Lucian . . ."
She stiffened and glanced to him worriedly.
"He rocks."
"What?" she gasped with amazement.