Page 2 of Bite Me

Three of those and a glass of milk to dunk them in were better than sex.

Almost.

“You can ignore me, fruit of my loins, but you cannot deny your true nature.”

“Ehhhh.” She made a sound like the buzzer in a Q&A game. “I can, and I will. Thanks for playing. Bu-bye now.”

She flipped him the bird and turned to the refrigerator. He was getting to her and he knew it.

So what if she’d tried to give up human blood before? This time she had a better plan.

Replace sex with food. Replace blood with… well she hadn’t figured that part out yet.

No way she waiting long enough to glaze the donuts. Chocolate milk would have to cool them off. She’d risk burning her tongue, the roof of her mouth, and her esophagus.

“If you won’t come to my little party, I’ll simply have to bring it to you.”

The bastard wouldn’t.

She ripped open the fridge door and accidentally crushed the carton of milk in her fist.

“Come in, young man. I want you to meet my daughter.”

Oh hell. Leon’s allure had every spark of arousal firing out of this victim. It wrapped around her and slipped into her mouth and nose. The prey was horny and hard already.

That pulsing between her legs picked up a new faster, deeper rhythm. A shiver snaked across her chest and shoulders.

Her fingers dug into the milk container and the liquid dripped down her hand. She was not beneath licking chocolate milk off her arm. Anything to quash the mouthwatering scent of the human man standing behind her.

“Let me help you with that, luscious vampire mistress.” The guy’s deep voice seeped into her ears. He took her wrist in his hand and pulled it back, raising it to his mouth. The second his lips touched her, a zing of pure need rushed through Jada, hitting her right behind the heart. Her fangs extended, ready to taste his pleasure.

Pleasure and pain. What this guy offered her was both.

She wanted him.

She needed him.

Even more than sugar, sweets, or even breathing. He would take her body, not understanding that she was taking his life. The sex would be phenomenal, and then he would die.

Because Jada couldn’t control herself. She would make him come, sucking up his sexual energy and then she’d drink his blood until there was only a husk of the man left.

He would taste better than Dunkin, Krispy, Horton’s, and Voodoo combined. The essence of his life would re-energize her, renew her, make her whole again.

Jada was so, so empty.

She’d tried for weeks to fill the gaping black hole inside of her with every comfort food the restaurants on the Cape could deliver to her. She’d tried for years to ignore the wounds her very existence continually slashed on her soul.

The only thing that came even close to the high sex and blood gave her was mounds of sugar.

She understood how millions of Americans were literally addicted to the stuff. It lit up all the right parts in the mortal half of her brain.

Not in the same way as the aroused naked man licking his way up her arm.

Maybe just one taste.

She’d be able to stop this time.

Only a little blood. If she kept the emotions buried, the human part of her that came with sex, she’d be able to control herself, only take what she needed, less if she really concentrated.

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