“I knew I needed to have you. I wanted you to a point of pain. The first time I heard your voice, it brushed over my skin like rain cools a hot desert. I burned for you like I’ve never burned for another being in all my life.
“I thought, if I could just make her love me, if I could just make her trust me to take care of her, I would be the happiest male alive. When you kissed me that first time, I felt the earth shift as though the touch of your sweet lips to mine could bring me more pleasure than I’ve ever imagined. I was right. And then you gave me so much more.”
Delilah slowly faced him. Tears quivered in her eyes. He didn’t look at the other woman. He didn’t need to. As much as he was proving a point, everything he said was true. He needed to fabricate nothing in order to tell Delilah how much she meant to him.
“One day you will be my wife and I will know I am the luckiest man ever to live in this world.” He touched her knee much like she had touched his only minutes ago. “I have never cared so much about what another person thinks of me the way I care what you think. Do not ever try to be like the rest. You are far better and they know it. Tis a shame they do not possess the gifts to be as unique as you.”
Her lips trembled and her lashes fluttered as the wall of tears filling her eyes gave way and two twin drops fell to her cheeks. He sensed the other woman watching them, sensed her envy as it thickened the air in the room, but he did not look away from Delilah’s eyes.
“I love you,” he whispered, no longer concerned if the other woman heard his words. They were for his mate.
Her brow tightened and her lips firmed as a hundred emotions crossed her face. “Oh, Christian—” she whispered and the doors behind the desk suddenly opened.
“Meghan, I need you to draw up a lease for Mr. Clemons.”
Delilah quickly brushed away her tears and drew in a shaky breath.
“Delilah, I didn’t expect to see you until the late notices went out,” the man said rudely. Christian’s hackles went up and he stood.
“Can I help you, sir?” Mr. McLeay asked.
Christian looked to Delilah.
“Don’t worry about her. She can wait,” the man said.
Christian reached out a hand and helped his mate stand. Facing the other man, he said coldly, “I am here with Delilah. She will not wait and you will speak with her now.”
The man frowned and the woman at the desk giggled. Mr. McLeay said, “Oh, I can see this is going to be good. Please come in.”
They followed him into the office, which boasted the repugnantly stale scent of cigar smoke. Christian gestured toward a chair for Delilah and she quietly sat. Christian took the seat beside her while Mr. McLeay seated himself behind an overly large desk.
The landlord folded his hands. “What’s this about, Delilah?” he asked with indifferent arrogance.
“I need to get out of my lease.”
The man laughed. “That’s fine. I’d be more than happy to break the contract—when your year is up. You have five months until it’s time to renew again.”
In a voice so soft he barely recognized it as hers, she said, “I need to get out before then.”
“Well, then I suggest you find yourself a good lawyer. You agreed to rent the unit for a full year. I’ve been lenient over the past few years, forgiving your lateness and delaying eviction notices when you cried broke.”
“There was a fee for every payment that was late. Don’t pretend you offered any special treatment.”
“I gave you other options I don’t usually offer my tenants.”
Christian growled and the landlord looked at him. “Who are you?”
“I am Christian Schrock.”
“And this meeting is relevant to you, why?”
“Because it is important to Delilah and anything that matters to her matters to me.”
The man rolled his eyes. He was in his late fifties and clearly had Christian pegged as someone much younger than himself. “Look, Ms. Starling, I suggest you get your shit in order and figure out a way to make the next couple months’ rent. This isn’t a fucking government office. Rent’s due on the first and I don’t have time for sob stories.”
A snarl ripped from Christian’s throat and the overweight man’s eyes bulged as he held his shirt in a tight fist. “Watch your tongue before I rip it out. Delilah is here to sign out of her lease. You will oblige her and leave the unnecessary comments out. If it is a matter of money, we will pay, but do not think to take advantage. I do not like you, Mr. McLeay. I would have no problem showing you how little you impress me.”
He released the man and the landlord fell back into his chair with a huff. His complexion turned a muddled shade of red. “Megan, call the police. I will not be strong armed in my—”
“Megan, sit,” Christian barked and he sensed the girl drop back into her seat. “Get the appropriate papers, Mr. McLeay.”
“Son, I don’t know who you think you—”
“I have told you. I am Christian Schrock. Now do as I say.”
“Christian.” Delilah’s soft whispered plea drew his attention.
He looked down at her. She wasn’t upset, only concerned.
“Fine. I don’t want the little trollop for a tenant anyway. I know what kind of business she’s running. Better to have her off my back—”
There was a crash, but Christian could only see the red haze clouding his vision. He knocked the portly man to the ground and hissed. Mr. McLeay’s eyes bulged and there was a scream from the front office.
Christian held the man to the ground. “What did you call her?”
“Jesus, what the fuck are you?”
“Christian!” Delilah’s voice cut through his rage. He turned back to her and saw terror in her expression.
Glancing down at where he held the man’s shirt his claws showed. Christian sat back and retracted his claws, catching his breath.
The man shook like a pig in a slaughter line. Christian looked at Delilah who now held a crying Meghan’s arm and stood, expectantly in front of the desk as if unsure what to do.
He hadn’t fed in over twelve hours and the adrenaline surging through the plump landlords veins had his teeth punching through his gums. This outburst was completely unprecedented and frightened Christian. What was he doing?
He leaned down close to the other man’s face, the scent of sweat and cigar burning his nose. “Listen very carefully,” he whispered. “We are going to leave and you are going to release Delilah from her lease. The only thing you will remember of us being here is that you were glad to assist such a nice female. She will have her items removed by the end of the week and you will move on and that will be that. Do anything beyond what I have said and I will be back. You do not want me to come back, do you, Ralph?”
“No, sir.”
“Very good then.”
He stood and brushed off the front of his clothing. Delilah watched him, her lips parted and eyes wide. The secretary whimpered.
“Delilah, get your bag please. We have other stops to make.”
She quickly moved to pick up her bag and headed toward the exit. Christian leaned close to Meghan and again whispered, “I am sorry you had to see that. I am also sorry you found it necessary to be such a cruel child. All you will remember of us is that we came, got out of Delilah’s lease, and the fact that you will never be as beautiful as her.”
He turned and followed Delilah out to the car.
As soon as she had the engine started she threw the car into reverse. Tires squealed as she backed out of the small drive and sped onto the road. They drove for several minutes in absolute silence and then Delilah abruptly jerked the wheel and pulled the car off the road.
Gravel sprayed against the undercarriage of the car as she hit the brakes. “What the fuck just happened?” she shrilled. His gaze was drawn to her fluttering pulse. He could hear the rapid thudding of her heartbeat.
Christian breathed deeply. “I did not care for the way he spoke to you.”
> Her fingers flexed on the wheel. “Christian…that…you just can’t do that to people. What if they’re calling the cops right now? You can’t go to jail. I don’t know how to do this vampyre shit without you! I need you.”
His gaze jerked to hers. “I need you too.”
“You—”
Whatever she had been about to say cut off. A pulse of electricity sizzled between them in the small car. She stared into his eyes, a torrent of emotion showing in her own. She shook her head. “You said you loved me,” she finally whispered.
He nodded. “I do love you, Delilah. I have for a while now. I cannot tolerate another speaking to you in such a disrespectful manner or anyone hurting your feelings. I find it…abhorrent. I am sorry for my behavior back there. I did not think. I only…reacted.”
“You said you love me.”
He frowned. Did she not believe him? “You are my mate.”
“But I’m not a very good mate.”
“I would want no other female to be my mate, Delilah. Only you.”
“Only me,” she said quietly to herself, nodding.
Her hand went to the keys hanging from the ignition and twisted. The car engine silenced. She stared out the windshield for a few seconds and Christian worried he had said something wrong. Suddenly she turned, climbed over the center armrest, and onto his lap.
Christian caught her in his arms as her mouth slammed down over his. The space was cramped and he had nowhere to stretch his legs. She fit her little body on top of his, straddling his thighs as she yanked at the collar of his shirt. Her tongue rasped against his.
His fingers squeezed at her hips and he moaned. Arousal punched through him. Her cool fingertips pressed into the flesh of his chest where she had undone his shirt.
“Delilah…” he said against her mouth.
“No more talking,” she said as she kissed his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his throat.
Her weight settled over him and she rocked. His cock pressed toward her sex. He wanted to rip off their clothing and pin her beneath him, but there wasn’t room.
With fumbling fingers she reached for the waist of his pants. He lifted her and quickly brushed her hand out of the way. The moment he freed himself her petite hand wrapped tightly around his cock. He groaned and she sighed.
“I need you inside of me, Christian. Now.”
Her dress left her thighs accessible. His palms glided over her soft skin as his thumbs came in contact with the lace of her panties. One swipe of his nail and the fabric fell away. She guided him to her heat. The tip of his cock swelled as it pressed past her folds and then he was engulfed in a fist of heated honey. He sighed and she moaned.
Her teeth nibbled at his jaw as he arched off the seat, driving up into her. She sank down on him, taking him over and over. Her cries were frantic, matching each thrust. Her hands moved urgently over him, pulling at his clothing and fisting in his hair. Her mouth teased over every bit of exposed flesh she could find.
Her body rode him hard and fast. He held her, guiding her up and down. The air in the car grew damp and humid, fogging up the glass. He needed more of her.
Yanking at the sleeves of her dress, he drew it low on her torso. Her unbound breasts swayed as she bounced, the twin rings dangling from her nipples glinted in the sunlight. He leaned in and pulled one tight bud into his mouth.
“Oh, God, Christian, Yes!”
He sucked hard, switching from one nipple to the next. His tongue curled around the metal ring and tugged. Her sex clamped around him and he pumped harder. “I want to bite you, Delilah.”
“Do it!”
His mouth kissed to the side of her breast, licking at the soft curve. His jaw opened and he sunk his teeth into her supple flesh. She screamed and her sex contracted tightly as she pulsed around his cock. Her head fell back and she cried out her release.
Hot, delicious blood flooded his mouth, rushing down his throat. She tasted unlike any other. She was decadent, spicy, rich, sexy…Delilah!
He thrust into her as he drank his fill, her orgasm unending. He held her tight and reveled at finally having permission to feed from his mate. Kissing his mark, he licked from her breasts to her shoulders to her delicate neck.
Her hand knotted in his hair. She yanked his head to the side and the punch of her tiny fangs through his flesh sent a thousand watts of pleasure racing from the base of his spine out in every direction. His release pelted through him with the force of a hurricane and he filled her.
She moaned over his flesh as she drank from him. His hips continued to thrust. His cock pulsed and pulsed but never wilted. He wanted to live inside of her, possess her like no other ever had. She was his mate.
Mine!
He would never think of her as anything other than mine!
Chapter Eleven
Delilah wasn’t sure what was happening to her. She hated herself earlier for falling into her old insecurities and trying to flaunt Christian in front of that bitch Meghan. She and Meghan had always shared a mutual dislike. When Christian had rejected her pathetic flirting, Delilah wanted to crawl under a rock and die. Then he had turned and said all those wonderful things about how pretty she was and how he…loved her.
No one had ever loved her before, other than her grandparents. She wasn’t sure he was telling the truth. Christian didn’t lie, but maybe he was confused, infatuated, or it was just some vampyre thing messing with his head—something to do with mates, maybe. Regardless, the moment he said the words, something needy and neglected receded inside of her and she wanted to throw him to the ground and do very, very un-Amish things to him.
Then he attacked Mr. McLeay for calling her a trollop. She’d never been so scared. Christian didn’t lose his cool like that. Ever. But he lost it then and she, again, wanted to throw him to the ground and rape his cute little Amish ass.
Sure, it was juvenile to get a rush from such barbaric possessiveness. It was wrong to care what her high school rival thought of her recent booty call. Yet, Delilah did.
No one had ever cared enough to go to bat for her. Her grandparents had cared, but they were old and sweet and she didn’t like to trouble them with her issues, especially toward the end when she was more their caretaker than they were hers. But Christian cared.
He cared a lot. He…loved her.
They’d gone to pay the balances off at all her utility companies and set a shut off date for the end of the month. They’d swung by Odd Lots and picked up a ton of boxes and packing peanuts and bubble wrap along with some munchies. They did all this without mentioning what happened in the car after leaving her landlord’s office.
He’d fed from her and she’d liked it. More shocking, she fed from him and couldn’t stop thinking about when she could do it again. Was it something vampyres did whenever they made love? Was it more a meal sort of thing based on hunger? Could she drink too much of Christian’s blood? Could a vampyre become anemic?
There was something so incredibly different about feeding from him when they were fucking compared to when he simply offered his neck like he had the other day.
His blood was robust, flavorful, and potent. It must be like doing a line of speed laced with X, but he was way better than any drug. He was addicting and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She wanted more.
“Is something wrong?”
She turned from the box of ink she was carefully packing and faced Christian. “What?”
“You moaned. Is something the matter?”
No, not if you ask Hannibal Lector. “I’m fine. I was just thinking.” She turned back to swathing the vials of ink in the bubble wrap sure her cheeks were blushing.
“What were you thinking, pintura?” There was something suggestive in the way he asked the question, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Smart ass.
He chuckled and went back to rolling up the artwork on the walls and carefully placing it in storage tubes.
A while later, Delilah was packing up the p
iercing room. This was the first place they hooked up. Her skin warmed every time she glanced at the chair. Her hand picked up the gage gun a plopped it in the box. She scooped up a handful of sterilized needles and barbells and stilled. “Christian?”
“Yes?” He was moving furniture and sounded preoccupied.
“Come’ere.”
A minute later he stepped into the small room. His sleeves were rolled back and his hair was slightly mussed. He looked delicious. “Did you need something?”
“Did you know my tattoos are fading?” she asked still sitting on the white linoleum floor.
He looked down. He had noticed. “I am sorry, Delilah. I did not know that would happen.”
She shrugged sadly. “Are you glad?”
His brow knit. “Why would I be glad? I like the way you look. I find them…interesting, beautiful, a part of you.”
Good answer. “What about my piercings? Do you like them?”
A red flush crept up his neck and he turned. “They are nice too.”
“Nice?”
“Very.”
“Do you think they’re sexy?”
The flush on his neck passed the curve of his jaw. Cute little blushing vampyre.
“Yes,” he rasped.
“I think piercings are sexy too.”
He faced her and there was a moment of charged energy. It wasn’t sexual tension. It wasn’t challenge. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t anything she had a name for.
“Will you pierce me?” he asked softly.
Her belly flipped. “Would you want me to? You don’t have to do it just because I think it’s hot. I’m pretty sure your hot ranking is tight even without piercings.”
“I want to be everything you find…sexy.”
Her body clenched. Her opinion really did matter to him. “Will you still think I’m pretty after all my tattoos fade?”
He frowned. “You will be pretty to me no matter what. You are beautiful, Delilah. You must know that.”