Page 4 of Tested
Chapter Two
Trajan
I’m one hundred and seventy-five years old, and some days I feel every minute of it. Other days – like today, for instance, with David parading around in a pair of shorts so tight they’re giving me an anatomy lesson – I don’t feel much older than the twenty-five years I’d spent on earth before I ran across a vampire.
That vampire is Jacques Betancourt, my maker and the owner of this palatial mid-century modern house in the Hollywood Hills where David, Connor, and I have been staying. Jacques felt guilty after our little dust-up with David’s uncle and invited us to stay in one of his safe houses, so I picked the best of the lot. While I’ve known Jacques long enough to know he’s liable to change his mind on a dime, it’s working for us. For now.
The main entrance is on the middle floor, with the bedrooms upstairs – one bedroom windowless for vampires. Downstairs there’s a media room, a weight room, and a large patio with an infinity pool. The coordinating elements are space and light, wood and stone, and the distant Pacific Ocean.
The sun set an hour ago, the last whisps of amber fading from the horizon. David spent time at the pool before I rose this afternoon and his warm golden skin smells like cocoa butter. He’s fluttering around the kitchen, and all of a sudden I’m very hungry.
I lean in the doorway, taking in his smooth thighs and the multicolored hair he’s got tied in a knot at the nape of his neck. I’ve never fed from David without Connor present, and yeah, Connor’s supposed to be home any time, but I’m hungrynow.
“You’re lurking.” David points a knife at me. He’s chopping tomatoes, cubes of red surrounded by a spreading puddle of juice at one end of the cutting board.
“You’re right.”
He glances up at me and I shift my gaze to his throat. Setting the knife down, he wipes his hands on a towel. “Is there something I can do for you?”
His smirk says he’s got at least some idea of what I want. I brush a hank of hair out of my face, the same hair that’s been falling in my face for a hundred and fifty years. “I figure since you’re making Connor dinner, you might be willing to feed me, too.”
I’m not usually so bold, but damn. He looks edible.
He shakes a finger at me. “When Connor gets home you can both eat.”
“Sure. We’ll stretch you across the table and he can feed you strands of spaghetti while I take blood from your groin.”
David covers his mouth, but not before he whimpers. “Oh,” he gulps, “my.”
I stalk toward him. “Or I could take a taste right now.”
His phone buzzes, making him jump. “It’s Connor,” he says. “He’s going to be later than he thought, which is good because then the sauce will have more time to cook down. I can make the pasta once he texts me to say he’s heading home because he said he’d text and I don’t know why I’m babbling except with you looking at me like that I don’t know what else to do.”
“He’s going to be late? That’s too bad.”
“Are you really that hungry?” He’s got his arms crossed like he can’t decide whether to be pleased or irritated. “I mean, I guess you can feed.” He tips his head to one side. “But no sex. No peen until Connor gets here.”
I shrug, coming close enough to touch him. “Pretty sure he won’t mind.”
“I am too, but until I hear him say it for himself, I don’t want to assume.”
Tugging the hem of his shirt, I pull him closer. Connor’s been threatening us with a sit-down where we discuss our rules and whatnot, but I’d been trying to side-step the issue. I have no words for what we’re doing and I’m a little afraid I’ll say something wrong by mistake.
I reel David in, his back to my front. He’s shorter than me, and a whole lot warmer. Werewolves tended to run hot, and he was no exception. He rocks his hips against my cock, at least until I hold him still. “No sex, you said.”
“Yeah, but the two are inextricably linked.”
I chuckle. “They’re what?”
“Inextricably linked. In my mind, vampire bite equals orgasm. I’m not sure I can do it any other way.”
I keep my hands on his hips, holding him still, and trace circles on his neck with my tongue. I won’t feed a lot. Just enough to take the edge off. An appetizer to the main course I’ll have when Connor gets home.
I settle on a spot right above his carotid artery. He holds his breath and I pierce his skin.
David shudders in my grasp. The werewolf’s blood is sweet, and spicy, distinct from other tastes. A lot like him. He’s trying to hump the air, but I hold his hips still. I swallow once, twice, then lick the wound to close it, turning my bite into a kiss.
I hold onto him until the strength returns to his legs. When I’m sure he can stand on his own, I step back. He shakes his head like he’s trying to clear the fog of sex.
