Page 60 of The Huntress

“I can if I shroud us.”

“When they already know we’re here? No, this is for the best. Besides,” she licked her lips, “I want you inside me for every bite.”

He lost his breath. His vision heightened as need pounded on the outer edges of his very being. Words eluded him. Actions, however, did not.

He projected thrusting into her, hard, and buried to the hilt. At the same time, in the projection, he claimed her mouth for a thorough kiss. She gripped the table, her knuckles going white and she released a strangled moan. Her eyes flashed heat, lust, and anger while her cheeks flushed pink.

“How fast can you get me home?” she said, through clenched lips.

“Scared of heights?” He cleared his throat, his voice hoarse.

“Not if you hold me.”

She climbed out of the booth and approached the cash register to pay. Her tip was generous as she accepted the cardboard container placed in a recyclable bag. He opened the door for her, striding into the cool evening air, an excited bounce to his steps. He guided her back to the dark alley before tugging her into his arms. She tied the bag to her wrist, then clung to his upper arms—her faith in him exquisite. He wouldn’t let it be in vain.

He shrouded them in darkness, lest anyone look up and see them flying overhead. While he launched them skyward, he latched onto her lips, tasting only her and not the bacon she’d eaten. It didn’t matter. She was nectar, indeed. He couldn’t explain the effect it had on him as if something mystical and eternal hovered on the edges of his subconscious.

“Thisisquicker, but we could take a taxi,” she said as he brushed his lips along her jaw.

He ensured she wouldn’t feel the cold, surrounding her with warmth while keeping her distracted with kisses. He wasn’t certain how he’d react if she panicked. Not that he expected she would, yet he couldn’t dismiss the possibility.

“A taxi to the middle of a field?” he said in her ear before dipping his tongue in to trace its mesmerizing pattern.

A moan of pleasure escaped from her lips. “Good point.”

Chapter Twenty-One

A NEED TO TALK

Gabelaysprawledonhis back, his white sheets once more stained with blood, but Callie didn’t pay it much attention. Blood had become an everyday sight in just a manner of days.

Days? Had it only been days since he had entered her life? It felt like much longer.

But blood was the least of her worries. She had other things she needed to talk to her…fiancé about. With her cheek resting over his left nipple, she twirled a pattern across his abdomen. Her engagement ring shimmered in the pale bedroom lighting.

As she recalled the last few days BG—before Gabe—she admitted she’d been lonely, with the fear of Val’s impending death deepening that loneliness. A manic panic had gripped her at times, but she’d thrust it down, forcing herself to focus on surviving day-to-day. Now Val was cured, sort of, and Callie had a fiancé, one who’d implied he loved her.

She assumed he did, although he hadn’t spoken the words. She studied his carved-in-stone chin, tempting her to kiss him there. Yes…she wanted to hear those words from him since this was a forever kind of relationship.

She couldn’t imagine an eternity in a loveless marriage.

“Gabe…” She chewed on her lip. “Did you get my message today?”

“Yes. I sent it to Leo. This might escalate the conflict to an all-out war. The shifters know how much this canister means to vamps everywhere.”

“Shit.” She winced, blaming herself for the future death of thousands, not to mention the humans caught in the middle.

He tilted his head and looped his arm around her, tightening his hold. “I won’t console you with platitudes, Callie. This could go either way. Not the results of the war, but whether there’ll be a war.”

“Fair enough, Gabe.” She rubbed her cheek along his chest, marveling at his heated velvet skin, the scent of him that tantalized her. “Heard anything about this clandestine meeting with Carter?”

He frowned, lowered his gaze to hers, then nodded. “Syl hasn’t seen the state senator since the ball.”

Leo could unweave lies, but would he cover for Syl? Yes, he would as he’d done at the ball, but what if he wasn’t? What if there was another regal suckblood terrorizing her city?

“We have a new player,” she said. “Phoenix? Does that name mean anything to you?”

“No, but it might mean something to Syl.”

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