Sweet. Tempting. Addicting.
He was the real deal. The perfect package.
His lips as soft as feathers molded to hers with a tenderness she would have never expected from Beckham let alone a vampire. Her hands moved up to grab his suit and pull him in closer. She needed more. She needed this taste, this sweetness on her tongue, touching her, holding her.
Reyna opened her mouth and ran her tongue along his bottom lip. He groaned into her mouth, and all of his tentative movements evaporated. His tongue darted out and caressed her. They volleyed as if there were a winner to their match.
Their kisses turned heated and desperate. Reyna hadn’t actually thought he would ever want this from her. Did Beckham feel the same way she did when he kissed her? Or was this another part of ownership?
Something in the way he held her and the intensity of his kisses told her that she was not his whore. He was not paying anything for this. He was kissing her like a man kissed his woman. And she wanted this.
His hands moved from her hair down over her shoulders to trace the curves of her waist and her hips. She moaned at the feel of his hands on her. She wouldn’t stop him if he went farther. She knew that she should. That this wasn’t appropriate for a professional relationship. That if she went further there was no going back. But his hands on her body and his lips on her mouth were telling her to ignore all logic. There was here and now. There was only Beckham.
He dropped soft kisses on her cheek, to her ear, and then down her neck. She braced herself, anticipating what was to come. Her heart fluttered. This would finally be it. She wasn’t anxious now that she was in his arms. She was excited. Ready.
Was what Mara had said before true? Did she get an endorphin rush from the bite? Was it anything like sex?
Her body was jittery as the kisses moved to her collarbone and then back to her neck. He hovered over her furiously beating pulse. His fangs trailed against the skin. She shivered all over, her body reacting to the erotic intimacy. She could feel her core heating, aching for him.
“Bite me,” she pleaded.
Just when she thought he was going to, he kissed the spot one more time and then leaned his forehead against her neck. His own breathing matched hers. He seemed desperate to do it, and yet he held back.
“You should rest,” he said, forcing a barrier between them all over again.
She reached for him. “No,” she whispered.
“Good night, Little One.” He kissed the top of her head, stood, and walked away.
“Beckham, please. What did I do?”
He stilled in the middle of the room. “I am not the person you think I am. It would be best if you forget that ever happened.”
“And if I can’t?” He shook his head. “I think you want me to believe you’re not good. Because if I don’t think that, then I can get close to you, and you’re terrified to let someone in,” she said, gaining her voice.
Beckham didn’t say anything for a moment. “You can believe what you wish. But that won’t happen again,” he said and then left.
Reyna slumped back and pressed her hand to her lips. That couldn’t be the last time. The taste of him still lingered on her lips, and she knew even as she watched his retreating back that…that was a promise he couldn’t keep.
Reyna walked through the hospital. It was strange to be on this side of the Visage building. She and her brothers had never had enough money to go to the hospital in the warehouses. When she got sick, she had to sweat it out in their cramped apartment with off-brand Tylenol and hope. Now the sterile environment, packed with sick people who had lost hope and turned to the vampire hospital to keep them alive, surrounded her.
As soon as they made it inside, Beckham had vanished with barely enough instructions for her to figure out how to find Everett. The receptionist directed her down the hall to a nurse. The next nurse pointed her down another hallway. After a few more twists and turns, she finally found Everett tucked up in a hospital bed with an IV attached to his arm.
The IV made her shudder, but at least he was alive.
He didn’t look pale and sickly like when she had last seen him. A white bandage was stark against his neck, and she imagined the horrifying puncture wounds underneath. They were both so lucky Beckham had found them.
She knocked on the open door lightly.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Reyna.” His face split into a smile. “It’s so good to see you alive.”
“I could say the same for you. Can I come in?”