Page 32 of Soulmates
“I didn’t tell her where we were.” I keep insisting, and he keeps stabbing with me with his vampire stare.
He opens the phone—because of course it’s a flip phone—and runs his thumb over the numbers. “You’re too smart to have done otherwise.”
Wait. A compliment?I try to parry his stabby stare with a helping of wolf glare, but my stomach rumbles instead.
“Didn’t you eat?” He scans the room, and I have to stifle a snicker. Only the bottle of Mountain Dew is still sitting on the table.
“Yes, a couple of hours ago. The snacks were awesome, though.”
A worried crease between his brows softens his glare. So much obvious concern turns me on.Fuck. Everything about Trajan Gall turns me on. It’s like in a week, he’s trained me so that one brush of a hand through his thick dark hair has me salivating like Pavlov’s dog.
And yes, I do always think about sex. I’m twenty-two. It’s my life.
“We’ll have to get you something else.”
Yes, yes we will.“And you’re going to need to feed, too, Rocky.”
The glare is back, shutting down any hint of concern. “Sheena wouldn’t give us up on purpose.” He says it flatly, as if it’s the one fact he can hang on to and I should probably go with the flow on the subject change.
“But someone figured it out,” I say, going along with him even though I usually suck at taking hints. His gaze caresses my bare chest. “Stop that.” I give him a profile view, but there’s not anywhere to hide when you’re naked. “So…” Because two can play the subject change game. “I think we should go back to LA.”
Trajan jerks like I’ve flicked him between the eyes. He doesn’t speak right away, holding on to his strong, silent type image. He doesn’t say no, though, so I take the opportunity to give him some bullet points. “Look, odds are that Uncle Brendan’s little ‘sign the severance contract’ party and all the various life-threatening events are related. He’s determined to get rid of me, one way or another.” Chicken skin crawls up my neck at the memory of the guns and the bombs. “We need to figure out a way to shut him down, and we can’t do that hiding in the woods.”
He rubs his chin, gaze fixed on the ratty tan carpet. “Well…”
Ready to push the issue, I cross the room and straddle him, climbing up high on his thighs. I run my hands over his upper arms, which leaves the towel basically draped over my lap.
“Don’t.” He flinches under my touch. “I’m foul.”
“You are pretty rank.” I keep up my massage. “’S okay, Rocky. If we can’t hide in a place as big as Los Angeles, California, we deserve to get caught.”
“Hm.” Tentative, he slides both hands under the towel. “I don’t know.” He grabs me, digging his fingertips into my thighs hard enough to hurt, then flips us both so I’m on my back on the bed, he’s plastered to my front, and the towel’s a fading memory.
Holy fuck, I love it when he tosses me around, but for once, I can’t let myself give in to him. I squirm, trying to get away, but he catches hold of my wrists. He grinds against me, the thick seams of his jeans giving my erection a reason to grow.
“I’m thinking I’ll shift.” I gasp the words, determined to keep us on task. “Since I can’t very well hike naked to where you parked the Escalade.”
“You should wait here. I’ll get the car, get our stuff out of storage, then come back for you.” He nuzzles my neck.
As if his breath’s going to distract me. “No. I will not be left behind.” Every so often, I have to remind people of who and what I am. He may be a bossy vampire, but I’m the son of the Alpha.
He freezes, likely affected more by my tone than my words. “If I do not keep you safe,” he says, murmuring the words against my skin, “then my life is forfeit.”
“And if you leave me here alone”—I force him to stare at me so he’ll know I’m telling the truth—“I won’t be here when you get back.”
The silence between us grows, and the way he’s pinning me to the bed becomes less about sex and more about domination. Not a problem. I have plenty of experience topping from the bottom.
“We’re either equal partners here, or I’m out.”
While he’s chewing on that thought, I slide out from underneath him. He ends up sitting back on his heels on the bed. I stand on the floor next to him, lightly tracing the bulge of his bicep. “You know, your shirt looks like something fromThe Walking Dead.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “That’s a dumb show.”
There’s an argument I won’t win. “When you’re ready, I’ll shift, but I’m probably going to need a steak sometime real soon.”
His shoulders sag, and I know he’s given in. I’d be happy except I’m tired and naked and shifting’s going to burn like a bitch. The combination stifles my fist-pump of victory.
“We should go by the cabin first,” he says, “and see if there’s anything we can salvage.”
