Vampire Mistress
Page 62

As he flipped open the wallet, she saw he had no credit cards. Only a driver's license. When he pulled out the three photographs he had, she noted he hesitated before extracting the last one. From his mind, she knew who was in that one, even saw the picture in his head, so she focused on the other two and let him keep that one tucked behind the others.
Two young boys, leaning against each other with open smiles and a sunny background. Gideon and his brother, as children. In the younger boy, she saw the facial structure of the man she'd seen in Gideon's head. Jacob. The other photo was a couple, obviously his parents, probably at the age they were when the other photo was taken. She passed her fingers over the snapshot. “How did you lose them?” Daegan hadn't told her they were dead. But if this man had parents left, he would have still been connected to them. In fact, she suspected he would have been a different person entirely. As a vampire hunter, she also doubted he'd carry a photo of any living family members, just in case. Since Jacob was already part of the vampire world, he was protected in a way a pair of vulnerable parents wouldn't be.
“Lightning strike. We were at the beach. We got 'em out of the water, did CPR I'd learned in a class at school. Jacob didn't know how, but I walked him through it with Mom while I worked on Dad, but it was too late for both of them. Are your . . . are your parents alive? Any f amily?” The significance of the question wasn't lost on her. “No. I had a sister, who died young. My parents also. My mother died during a miscarriage, and my father had a heart defect that killed him on a jog in his early thirties. I lived with my uncle and aunt until they divorced, and then I lived with my aunt until I was eighteen. We're not close. Don't even exchange Christmas cards.”
“There's more of a story there.”
“Yes, there is. But I don't want to dwell on it today.”
“Would you give me a piece of it?” He cocked his head, and she saw how he wanted to know more, everything about her being of intense interest to him. He was both a delight and a danger to her currently way-too-fragile ego.
She stroked her finger over the picture of his parents, thinking of her own. “It's a typical story, Gideon.
My uncle liked good brandy and young girls. He thought an orphaned teenage niece was fair game.
When his wife figured it out, she did the right thing. Divorced him, reported him, but she could never bring herself to forgive the thirteen-year-old for being what he wanted, instead of her.” She wasn't surprised to see and feel the violence on her behalf simmering within him. As she raised her gaze, she realized his eyes were not exactly like his parents'. There was Irish warrior in those intense depths. “It isn't why I'm a Domme, but it took me a while to figure out. When Barbie first started smacking Ken around”—she gave him a tight smile—“I thought it was because I was angry and wanted to punish someone. So when I was old enough to give a name to my Dominant nature, I thought it was destructive, connected to that time period, something I needed to deny myself. But then I realized that pain and punishment aren't always about vengeance. Sometimes they're a path to freedom. I wanted to offer others what I hadn't had; a moment of pure safety, of knowing you could surrender yourself into the hands of another and feel completely, truly safe and cherished. It's a rare thing.”
“Yeah, it is.” His eyes fell on the picture of the two boys, who were obviously at a beach, their arms around each other. When she withdrew her hands, he placed the photos carefully back in his wallet.
Stroking a strand of hair from where it was teasing the corner of her mouth, he curved it back behind her ear, his eyes warming on her face, so close, his fingertips caressing that sensitive place.
“You should learn not to touch me without permission.”
“I hear what you want in my mind, feel it. I don't think I've touched you without permission yet.” Her body rippled at the sensual heat in that male voice, the truth of the words. “Then I want you to learn to wait until I ask you directly, whether in my mind or with my lips.” She laid her hand on his throat, collaring it with her slim fingers, and earned another flicker from those mesmerizing eyes, a tightening of that sexy mouth. “My desire for dominance wasn't all about noble, charitable reasons. I learned I healed myself that way as well. By taking a man into that moment, I brought myself there as well, in a different way.”
He stayed so still under her touch, making her thighs shift restlessly against each other, a yin and yang response. “And what moment are you in right now?” he asked, low.
“I want to go check on the club.”
Everything she was feeling right now was pleasure. Pleasure in his responses, in her strength. In his new connection to her, his hard cock and pounding heart, the way his blue eyes were hungry and full of fire.
For the first time in several days, she felt balanced. In control of herself. Maybe the sire's blood was helping, but she preferred to think it was the strength that her body was drawing from that connection to Gideon, just as Daegan had suggested it could. Knowing how time was ticking toward the next seizure, and that the shadow voices were at their most muted, she found she wanted to exult in this one moment, make the most of it.
However, his startled expression, followed by wariness, cast a pall on such optimism. “Anwyn, that's not a good idea.”
“Didn't your brother have limited freedom during his transition?”
“Yes, but this isn't the same. You know it.”
“I know that,” she said calmly, though her pulse started to hammer, the precursor of temper. “Daegan said he thought I was about ready for some short, supervised excursions. The club's not open right now, just a handful of staff topside.”
“Well, then, shouldn't we check with Daegan first? He might—”
“I can make this decision on my own,” she snapped. At his look, she closed her eyes, her fingers into fists. “That was normal temper, Gideon. It pisses me off to beg for it. I've had to ask for permission like a child to do anything for the past few days. I'm never alone, not in my mind. If it's not Daegan, it's you, keeping tabs on me, and even if I didn't feel you there, those godawful voices would be. I know you need to be there—I'm glad,” she added, “but I'm trying to make a point. Do you know how long it's been since I've had to ask permission for anything, let alone something as simple as a walk through my own club?”
She took a breath. “I understand why you're concerned. But, as you said, I've handled myself damn well for having every scrap of control taken away from me. You've chained me up, put me in a cage.” At his slight flinch, she pressed the advantage, not ashamed to be ruthless. “Hell, I've put manacles on myself. I'm not being irrational. I just need thirty minutes to give myself a taste of my own life. It's an acceptable risk. You know it. I won't try to put the screen between us while we're up there. If you sense anything about to change, we come back here right away. I wouldn't risk my people, Gideon. Youknow that.”
He grimaced. She could tell, and hear in his mind, that he was vacillating between his desire to give her what she wanted and erring on the side of caution. But for reasons she couldn't explain, she couldn't bear to bring Daegan's passionless logic into this. She gave Gideon an arch look. “Doyou feel the need to check with Daddy first?”
Okay, she knew that was a nasty ego shot, but like a wild bird who'd been slapped into a cage before she'd even realized she was caught, she wanted one little taste of freedom. Strength was pumping through her. She felt better than she had in hours, and it wasn't the false adrenaline surge. She was sure of it.
She rose and he straightened at the same time, emphasizing the difference in their heights. At the moment it was a good thing, underscoring that he was powerful, a skilled warrior, and connected to her in a way that would help him protect her. Sidling closer, she ran a hand up his chest because she could, feeling the tempting terrain beneath. It was a woman's hunger heating her blood, not an uncontrolled monster's. She opened her mind fully, let it wash through him, the images in her mind. How she'd like it if he never wore a shirt, so she could stroke him, lick him, bite at his nipples and tease his throat with fangs and tongue.
She knew he wasn't a man that could be led by his cock, but this wasn't about that. It was letting him see that she was in control of her own desires, her own wants.Please, please don't make me beg, Gideon.
She arched a brow, letting the emotional entreaty give way to sultry humor. “Unless you think you can defy me?”
23
OF course he could defy her. She was stronger now, yeah, but short of throwing him over her shoulder and carrying him up there, he didn't have to do what she said. Maybe she'd pushed his own buttons by implying he was checking in with Daegan, rather than believing her or having faith in his own abilities, but he wasn't that easy to manipulate. He did understand her need to take a short jaunt, and all other things being equal, it did seem like an acceptable risk.
At least that was the conclusion he came to, hoping he wasn't being guided by the fact he was so aching hard, he had to please her, even at the expense of personal humiliation. She'd been devastating to the senses even when she wasn't in his mind. With that flood of images, it was a shotgun double charge to his cock, seeing what she wanted, how she was feeling.
As she'd worked on screening her mind, he'd figured out how to manage the open access to her mind without taking advantage of it, like standing by a rapidly flowing river but keeping his focus on the trees on the opposite bank. He was aware of the sound of the river, what lay in its depths, but he could do that without looking closely at it or hearing the individual nuances of the sounds. Of course, right now she'd invited him to be there, to make sure this turned out okay. If she kept throwing erotic images at him like that, though, he was going to lose his mind. He'd never wanted a woman so much.
Yet he knew his inability to say no to her wasn't lust. It was something far harder to get under control. It was his understanding of how she felt, swept away by circumstances beyond her control. His empathy with the fact she was having to face everything she hated and feared.