Page 50 of Hot Blooded

“Stay inside your house until you see me outside. If I’m not with you, try not to go out in the dark. And keep your mother from going out in the dark, if you can.”

Tessa grimaced. Convincing Ma to follow any kind of direction that she didn’t want to was always an uphill battle. Doing so without being able to explain why was going to be impossible. “I’ll try,” she said dubiously.

Amos nodded, looking around, mildly distracted. “Do you mind if we walk all the way back to my place? I know it’s a long walk, but it might draw the thrall over to my neighborhood.”

Tessa looped her arm through Amos’s. “Sure. Lead the way.”

Chapter 14

Afew weeks after Amos had asked Tessa to meet his dam, the day finally came for it to happen. As he helped her out of her coat in the entryway, his gaze swept over her outfit.

“What’s this?” he asked, smiling as he traced a finger along the modest collar of her blouse. It wasn’t her usual style, but she kept it in her closet for things like Christmas Mass and job interviews and meeting-the-parents situations. It was demure but feminine—a silky fabric in a deep burgundy color, with a pussy bow collar, billowing bishop’s sleeves, and a row of tiny, jet-black buttons down the front. She’d paired it with a black skirt that hit just below her knee and a fairly staid pair of black pumps. Again, not her usual aesthetic, but it was the best option she had for making a good impression on a woman who’d been born in 1899.

“It’s my ‘please like me, I swear I’m a good girl’ outfit.”

“I know you’re a good girl,” Amos growled, leaning in to nip her earlobe.

Tessa shivered, head falling back, baring her throat to him. “Yes, but you’re not the one I’m trying to impress tonight.”

Amos pulled back, his blood-red gaze meeting hers with a mix of amusement and tenderness. “Honey, you could have worn a gold-sequined catsuit and lime green go-go boots, and Etta wouldn’t have judged you for it. In fact, she’d probably ask where you got the catsuit.”

“Oh.” Tessa looked down at herself, suddenly apprehensive that she looked too uptight.

“Tessa. Stop overthinking it. You look beautiful.” He leaned in close again, one arm circling her waist to pull her against him. “To be perfectly honest, I like this prim and proper look on you.” His voice deepened, roughened. “Makes me want to mess you up.”

“Amos…” Arousal warred with anxiety. She met the heated intensity of his gaze, unsure how to respond.

“Still overthinking things?” he rumbled, walking her back until her shoulders hit the wall. “I know how to fix that.” He moved too quickly for her to react—one second he was looking into her eyes with a wolfish smile, and the next, his hand was cupping the back of her head as his fangs sank into her throat.

Tessa gasped, instantly arching up into his bite. As the first wave of venom-induced orgasm hit her, her knees buckled. Amos dipped with her, catching her, and then hoisted her up with careless ease. Tessa wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist. Her skirt rucked up to her hips, leaving just the thin fabric of her panties and the stiff barrier of his jeans separating her pulsing core from the hard jut of his erection. She whined, grinding against him as he fed from her, overcome by the pleasure of his venom, and still hungry for more. More of him, more of his strength, more of his control. She wanted him inside every part of her, taking her body and soul.

As if he could taste her desperation in her blood, Amos groaned against her throat, pressing against her, crushing her between his broad body and the wall at her back. His hips rocked against hers, grinding his hard length against her needy pussy in time with the rhythmic suction on her throat. Each wave of pleasure crested higher and harder than the last, until her mind went totally blank and she became nothing more than the sensations rioting through her.

When she came back to herself, she was still clinging to Amos, trembling and gasping for breath as he licked at her healing throat. A contented purr rumbled in his chest.

“Are you back with me?” he asked softly, lips ghosting against her skin.

“I think so,” she said faintly.

His gaze flicked over her, a satisfied gleam in those hunter’s eyes. His lips curled into a small smile. “Fixed it.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Let’s get you some food.”

Tessa and Amos were still in the kitchen when the resonant tones of the fanciest doorbell she’d ever heard rang out.

“She used the doorbell?” Amos said, looking baffled. “She must want to make a good impression.”

And just like that, Tessa was back to feeling nervous. The pastry she’d just eaten turned to cement in her stomach. Nervously, she gulped water, swishing it between her teeth and spitting it in the sink.

Amos’s hands descended on her shoulders, kneading gently. “It’s going to be fine, sweetheart. I promise. Why don’t you go to the sitting room? I’ll get the door.”

Tessa did as he suggested, heart hammering the whole time. She had only just arranged herself on the settee, gaze landing on the fresh floral arrangement—a frilly haze of yellow, orange, and red blooms—when Amos appeared in the doorway. Tessa sat frozen on the couch, palms sweating, pulse thudding in her ears.

“Tessa,” Amos said calmly, stepping inside the sitting room to reveal two women behind him. “This is Etta Brooks, my dam. And this is Fran Piotrowski, Etta’s bloodmate. Etta, Fran, this is Tessa Vargas.”

Etta was a petite, curvy Black woman, so young she looked like she could still be in high school. Despite their differing coloration, her skin had that same slightly pallid quality that Amos’s did, like they’d both been dusted with a very fine layer of zinc. It didn’t make her look sickly, but rather, slightly other-worldly. She had enhanced her wide-eyed, fae beauty with shimmering golden makeup. Her long, black hair was worn in an abundance of thin locs whose ends transitioned from her natural color to cobalt blue. Half of her hair had been gathered at the crown of her head in a large bun, while the rest fell down her back to the small of her waist. She was dressed in a beautiful black and gold brocade dress, tied at the waist with a crimson sash, and black leather riding boots that laced up to her knee.

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