In the Company of Vampires
Page 22

“No doubt, but I trust you not to kill me or leave me brain dead,” I said, waiting for him to get onto the motorcycle before climbing on behind him. “At the risk of inflating your ego past bearable levels, I have to admit that I’ve often thought of the rides we took together. For some reason, they always left me . . .”
I hesitated, searching for the right word.
“Aroused?” he asked, looking back at me.
“Yes. I just didn’t realize that’s what it was.”
He grinned. I’m glad I wasn’t alone in that. The last few times, I was afraid I’d scare you off forever with the natural consequence of you riding in front of me.
Oh, I noticed you were in a very happy mood. I was flattered, to be honest. And more than a little intrigued.
He gave me an unreadable look before turning around to start the bike.
A little thrill ran through me at the combination of the motorcycle vibrating beneath me and the fact that I was plastered up against Ben’s back. “I’ve missed this.”
“As have I. If you want to drive, though, I’d prefer you wait until we get onto the road proper.”
“Hang on a second.” I wrapped my arms around him, made an unhappy noise, and slid my hands beneath the black leather jacket he’d donned. That wasn’t enough, either. Ben looked down in surprise when I yanked the front of his shirt out of his pants, slipping my hands under it to his bare stomach. The muscles there contracted as I spread my fingers out across their warmth. “Perfect. Let’s go.”
I swear I heard him mutter, “You have no idea,” but contented myself to rest my cheek against his shoulder, silky little wisps of his hair brushing against my face as he drove us through the night. I wondered if sex on a motorcycle was possible.
No, but it is on horseback if you have a very welltrained horse.
I pulled back from where I had my nose buried in his nape and pinched his belly. Stop reading my wicked thoughts about you!
He laughed in my mind, and I settled back against him, my heart and my mind, for the moment at least, at ease.
Chapter 10
The Faire was in full swing when we returned, the center aisle positively crammed with people. I could hear gasps of awe and applause coming from the main tent as Peter or Kurt and Karl did their magic acts.
“I suppose I should find Imogen and see if there’s been any word on my Vikingahärta.”
“She will no doubt be busy reading rune stones.”
“True. I suppose it’ll have to wait until later.” I stopped next to my mother’s stall, worry suddenly consuming me.
Ben, holding my hand, knew what I was thinking. His fingers tightened around mine now, offering comfort just by his touch. “Your mother is not only a woman not to be trifled with—she’s also a powerful Wiccan. I know you are worried about Loki, but I can’t see him wishing to engage in a battle with her for no reason other than to harm her.”
“Imogen said the same thing.”
“That is because Loki has no reason to harm Miranda, and every motivation to keep her safe so that he may use her to barter for the Vikingahärta.”
“That’s the only reason I could figure he’d be interested in seducing her. I mean, she’s not really his type. But what if he already has it? What if it was he who stole it?”
Ben looked thoughtful for a moment, rubbing his chin as he mulled that idea over. Such an action never failed to make my legs go wobbly. “It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that a god could control a lich, but I’ve never heard of it being done. To my mind, the lich indicates that there’s someone else involved who wanted the valknut. Just who remains unclear. Regardless, I don’t believe your mother is in physical danger.”
Despite a tiny remaining worry, I agreed with what he said. I had a feeling I’d know if something truly horrible had happened to my mother. I had known when I was little and in school and her appendix burst. Surely I would know now if she was being tortured or worse?
Ben held tightly to me as he forged a path through the dense mass of bodies. As he came up to a booth painted in black and red, he dropped my hand.
I’m going to stop in a few feet. Please slap me when I do so.
I beg your pardon?
Slap me. If I am to convince Naomi that you have some sort of a hold over me, we must give her a show.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m more than happy to slap you, but what on earth will that prove other than I’m pissed at you?
Just follow my lead. You’re hurt and angry with me, but you aren’t ready to walk away yet. All right?
I kept the thought to myself that it wouldn’t take much, if any, acting to depict those emotions, following Ben as he stalked through the crowd, his jaw set.
Yell at me.
“Will you wait for me, you great big wart on the bottom of a slug?” I shouted, running after him.
He spun around and glowered at me. I noticed from the corner of my eye that he had stopped right in front of Naomi’s booth, and that she, holding a tattoo gun, was watching us with a calculating glare. “I will not be spoken to in such a manner as that!”
I slapped him hard enough for him to feel it. He emphasized the slap by snapping his head to the side before slowly turning back to regard me with fiery eyes. “You will regret that.”
“In your dreams!” I snarled, and shoved past him to storm my way through the crowds toward the trailers.
I assumed he would return to Naomi to make the most of the scene, but was surprised to feel his presence behind me as I stomped my way to my mother’s trailer.
Uh . . . should you be here?
Probably not, but unless you order me to leave, it would take a monumental effort to remove me from your side tonight.
Heat swept up from my chest as I realized just what he was implying. I’d all but given him the go-ahead to jump into bed with me, but he really was going to do it? Excitement fluttered in my stomach. Naomi won’t like it.
He thought something extremely rude about her that made me smile. I entered the trailer, waiting for him to close the door behind himself before I looked at him.
“I’ve wanted to have you alone for a long time,” I said, every bit of me tingling at the nearness of him.
“Even when you thought I was trying to control your life?” he asked, one side of his mouth going up in a smile.
“Well . . . I won’t say there weren’t some fantasies about decking you with a two-by-four mixed in there, but for the most part, even then. Ben, I know I sound like an inarticulate, confused twit—”
“No, you don’t.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Perhaps you sound a little confused,” he admitted with a grin. “But I understand that this is of vital importance to you. Which is why I’m prepared to give you the space you need should you require more of it.”
“I appreciate that.” I bit my lip, trying to figure out how best to get his clothes off him without looking like that’s all I could think of. Which it was, but he didn’t have to know that.
“Are you sure you wish for me to be here tonight, Francesca?” he asked, and the meaning behind his words was extremely clear.
“I’m sure of that. But, I’m . . . uh . . . it seems a little crude of me to just tell you to strip, and then pounce on you. Although right now, that really does sound good.”
He laughed and gently pulled me into his arms. “We will do this slowly, all right? If you wish for me to stop at any time, I will.”
“You will? Really?” I gazed up into his eyes, those beautiful eyes now the color of gold-bespecked honey oak. “What if we had been going at it for a bit, and you were about to”—I waved one hand around in a vague gesture—“blast off?”
He grimaced. “Then I would stop. I’d probably die in the process of stopping, but it would be a noble sacrifice to know that I gave my life making you happy.”
“I never realized just what a big ham you are,” I said and giggled, nipping his lower lip. “Oh, Ben. Even when I didn’t want to be bound to you, I still couldn’t stop thinking about you. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
I know exactly how long, because I’ve endured each second of it wanting you, as well. And now, seeing you as a woman—my woman—so near to me, has almost pushed me beyond all bearing. His mouth was as hot as a furnace as he took charge of the kiss, making me squirm against him as his tongue twined around mine. I pulled off his shirt, my mind giddy with the sight and feel and taste of his bare chest.
I wrapped my arms around him, pressing little kisses to his bare shoulder. You don’t think I’m . . . um . . . You don’t think I’m wrong for wanting to have sex with you, but not Join with you, do you? It’s not against some sort of vampire code, is it? Because I haven’t made up my mind yet about the Joining, and if this is going to be taken as a tacit acceptance of the idea that I’m your Beloved—
If you do not wish for it to be an acceptance, then it will not be. His mouth moved on my skin, his hot breath making me shiver with pleasure as he pulled off my own top, his hands busy with my breasts.
It wasn’t exactly the words I wanted to hear, but it was enough.
I shivered when he nibbled on my shoulder, his hands stroking my breasts, the satin of my bra rubbing sensuously against my nipples. “You know, if we’d done this all those years ago—oh, yes, please!” My fingers clutched the thick muscles of his shoulders as he dipped his head and licked the valley between my breasts.
He chuckled into my mind as my bra fell to the floor, his mouth instantly claiming one of the aching nipples that were waiting just for that touch. I arched my back, stroking and clutching and pulling his shoulders as little spirals of pleasure and heat sank low in my secret parts.
There is a reason we did not, Francesca. You were too young to understand what a physical commitment would mean. Imogen urged me to give you time. She wanted me to show you that you mattered beyond my own base needs, and it didn’t take me long to realize that she was right. I wanted you to come to me without coercion. I wanted to know you were truly mine, and I was content to wait for that.