Your Coffin or Mine, page 11
He gets up and walks to the door with a spring in his step. “Is this you talking? Or the stick in your ass?”
“Very funny.”
“By the way, Casanova, the cook will be here sometime late tonight, and the guests should be arriving tomorrow morning. The agency said that is as quick as they are able to get someone here.”
“I suppose that’ll be fine. I plan on showing Aubrey around today. We’ll have a picnic indoors or something, maybe eat in the village.”
“God help us all. Vlad Tepesh sleeps and goes on picnics.” He gives me a last look, one that’s serious. “Just be careful what happened to Frank doesn’t happen to you.”
“I will spend a week in the company of a fascinating woman and then she will return home. It’s a temporary thing.” Temporary. The thought of her leaving makes my mood sour instantly, and the expression on his face says he knows it as well as I do.
He scoffs. “Mmhm.”
Aubrey
“Okay, now move to the left,” I say.
My winter boots crunch in the snow as I try to get the right angle, and I’m thankful my new scarf is helping to keep me warm, but I should have grabbed some gloves.
Vlad looks entirely disgruntled by the whole thing but obeys, and the smile that’s been plastered on my face all morning stretches some more. I snap a picture, squealing on the inside at how great this is going to look on my Insta. Vlad is sex personified, and the snowy landscape behind him sets off the whole vibe.
His black pea coat is dusted with snowflakes, his hair ruffling with the wind, and he looks like something out of a men’s magazine in winter. After last night he seems . . . calmer now somehow. I guess good sex after going without for a while will do that.
“Good. Now smile!” I tell him, grinning like a loon.
His lip curls in disgust and he looks at me like I asked him to fight off a wave of spiders. “No.”
“One teensy little smile?” He bares his teeth and I giggle. I lower my phone and eye him for a moment. “Yesterday you acted like you’d rather do anything but this. What made you change your mind?”
“Normally, I would rather face a firing squad than to do something as frivolous as take photos.”
“Then why are you?”
His brown eyes flash in the sunlight. “Because you asked, and as much as I abhor smiling into the camera like a buffoon, who am I to object to a lady’s request? If you want photos of your time here, I am obliged to fulfill your every desire.”
His dark eyebrows lift and bounce dramatically. I laugh, the twinkle in his eyes telling me he knows exactly how he wants to fulfill me.
“Uh uh. None of that, mister.” That’s all I need—to fall back in his bed. With my luck, I’ll come out of it even more dickmatized.
“What?” His expression is full of mischief and it’s clear he knows how cute he is, what he does to me. “It’s only because there are several other interesting things we could be doing.” He winks, and I laugh. “But I notice you take this sort of thing seriously.”
He holds out his hand to me and I take it, warmth spreading in my stomach at the contact. I bite my lip, wondering if this is a good time to explain how I just got out of a relationship and have no idea what I am doing.
How is this the same grumpy man from two days ago? The more I get to know him, the harder he is to resist—not that I can truly see anyone who finds men remotely attractive saying no to him, but he can be so sweet and affectionate. It’s making me want things I shouldn’t.
I shake my head at him, then we resume our walk across the gardens near the moat, and I tilt my head back, enjoying the crisp scent of winter on the wind. The hedgerows are covered with snow, and a pretty stone bench overlooking the water sits waiting for spring. God, it would be so beautiful to see in springtime.
“You know, the air here even smells different,” I point out, changing the subject.
“Hmm, I suppose it would. Every country I’ve visited has different smells.”
“Have you been to many countries?” I ask, shoving my other hand into my coat pocket to keep it warm.
He arches that brow and a tingle spreads through my body. “Why do you want to know?” he asks quietly.
Shaking myself inwardly, embarrassment floods. What has he got to be thinking? Probably not about a relationship so soon, and honestly, neither should I. Get a grip, Aubrey. It is becoming ridiculous how often I’m now arguing with myself. Maybe I should clear the air?
“Well, to get to know you, obviously. I know nothing about you other than you have an issue with nipples and like to cook weird stuff.”
The shame is immediate and swift. I might as well add coward to my resumé at this point. My only excuse is the man is beautiful and fucks my vagina as if bringing me to orgasm is his day job. I refuse to acknowledge how my stomach swoons every time he looks at me.
He laughs, and the sound causes warmth to fill my chest. Dread quickly follows as I grapple with reality. You are leaving in a week. This is a vacation fling, and it doesn’t matter how good the sex is, you do not have the funds to stay—and you’re leaving. My thoughts circle and swirl. My reactions to him are too much, way too soon.
“I’ve been to several countries in my life. Some I detest, others I can somewhat find enjoyable.”
“Have you been to America?” I blurt. Smooth Aubrey, super smooth.
A pucker forms between his brows like it takes him a moment to think about what to say. “I have been to a place called Virginia and once to New Orleans.”
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to visit New Orleans and see the French Quarter. Mardi Gras looks like it would be amazing.”
“Hmm. Yes. It is a filthy place full of vagabonds and festering vessels of pestilence.”
I blink at that. “Wow, tell me how you really feel.” I laugh.
“Most countries, I’m sure, have nice places and others that aren’t so nice.”
“Yeah, I guess that is true. I’ve always wanted to see the world.” I shrug. “It’s what I would love to do most, really.”
“Do what exactly?”
“Show people new places like this, and let them see the world as I do. Lots of people never leave their hometowns or travel, and some want to know the best vacation spots. It’s why I have such a big following on Instagram.” I tug my phone from my pocket and unlock it for him.
“See? Here is when I visited Cancun. It was beautiful, and the villagers were so nice.”
He eyes the photo. “When was this?”
“A few years ago.” I shrug. “I went with some friends.”
“Right. So this is what you want to do here?” He gestures at the mountainside. “Take pictures and show everyone?”
“Yes. Show them my experiences, the people, the cute little villages, the castles. People love to visit places to find their secrets.”
“Hmm. Well then, I suppose that won’t hurt.” He waves his fingers. “Give me your phone.”
I hand it over and he holds it out toward me, his brows drawn down in concentration.
I watch on in puzzlement. “What are you doing?”
“Be quiet. I’m trying to take a picture.” He holds the phone out, aiming it at me with a concentrated expression.
I giggle and he snaps a photo. He looks down at the phone, staring intently at the picture he’s taken with a strange expression.
I walk backward and hold my arms out. “Take one now,” I say, beaming a smile at him.
He does, and I spin in circles, laughing as snowflakes land on my face. I spin faster and faster, smiling at the gray sky, before I’m suddenly in the air, picked up off the ground like I weigh nothing.
My thighs lock around his hips like they’re magnetized to his sex lines as he guides me down to his lips. I close my eyes, letting him pull me away from the moment, enjoying his taste. Three days with this man and he knows just how to catch my bottom lip to make my breath hitch in my throat.
When he sets me on my feet, I pull away. Exhilaration races through me, and I want to play more. Running toward the nearby woods, I look back and shout, “Catch me if you can!”
His eyes narrow, but he walks sedately, a slow grin pulling at his mouth.
I squeal in delight and run through the snowy trees, zigging and zagging to get away. I turn to look behind me and stumble. Firm hands wrap around my waist, but my palm meets the ground and something sharp grazes my skin.
“Ow!” I hiss out as Vlad pulls me up to standing.
“What did you—” He stops on the last word, his eyes fixed where blood has welled on my palm, and his face goes pale.
The scratch throbs painfully with how cold my hands are, and I suck in a breath as I make a fist and hold it against my chest. “I’m okay. It’s just a scratch.” I frown at his pale, hardened features. “Hey, are you okay?”
He pulls me closer, his expression full of concern. “Are you okay?” he asks, his tone gruff and deep. It’s even hoarse, like his breath is tight. “Foolish woman, where are your gloves?” he murmurs, the sound so low I can barely hear him.
“I’m fine. Just a small cut, I think.”
He opens my palm, and I wince when I look down at it.
“Vlad?” He’s still staring at my hand. His jaw ticks and his face turns stony. I swear his brown eyes flash a strange color.
Before I can ask him what’s wrong, his lips are on mine. A burst of sizzling desire heats my body, sending tingles down my spine. One touch and I want to bump his uglies so hard he forgets every woman before me.
I gasp when his tongue licks at the seam of my mouth.
“Aubrey,” he moans, his voice thick with emotion.
He pulls back, staring into my eyes, and my heart does a little pitter patter in my chest. Oh no.
I am very much afraid I could be falling for the grump, and it’s a heady mix of amazing and freaking terrifying.
Chapter 15
VLAD
I am irrevocably fucked. As I press my lips against the soft skin of her throat, my instincts to bite, to tear into her flesh and drink her in, rear their ugly heads.
Pushing her back against the nearest tree, I kiss her hard, dueling my tongue with hers as she kisses with a passion that takes what little oxygen I can allow in my lungs.
The scent of her blood in the air is mouthwatering, but when the smell of her arousal registers, it almost brings me to my knees. I want to fuck and consume her at the same time, and it is taking every bit of my control to not act on the impulse.
Sliding my knee between her legs, I groan as she whimpers, rubbing herself against me like a cat. Just the feel of her in my arms is heady and exhilarating.
“Woman, you would test the control of a saint.” And she is definitely testing mine.
She arches against me, and her fingers pull at my hair tightly, causing me to growl low in my chest before bending my head to breathe deep at her neck. My fangs extend, her pulse throbs, and my vision turns to red. I squeeze my eyes shut, listening to her panting breaths. I focus on her smell, on how good she feels in my arms. My mind slows, concentrating on the air filling her lungs, on her heartbeat that I could never bear to stop. I refuse to hurt her.
“We should get back to the castle,” I say, when her fingers tighten around the back of my neck.
My control is barely hanging on by a thread. I want to lick, bite, sink my teeth into her—and never let her go. I have since the moment I first saw her, but not like this. I will not attack her like some beast in the forest.
“Do we have to?” she says, pouting cutely. “I was having fun, you know.”
Normally it would be no question whether I could control myself, even if she were bleeding out in the snow, and I hadn’t eaten from a human in more than half a century. But this is Aubrey.
“There are wolves in the area and you’re bleeding.” I hate the lie, but she is in more danger from me than wolves.
Her face pales, her brows scrunching together with worry. “Right. Yeah, I’m not up to fighting off wolves today.”
Or any day.
I pull her to me and lift her into a cradle in my arms. “No more tumbles, either,” I mumble, unable to force my limbs to let her go. The urge to protect her is overwhelming.
She lays her head on my shoulder, and the action floors me. This slip of a human is burrowing into my cold, undead heart.
I walk in silence, listening to her soft breaths. The feel of her in my arms makes me wish for a moment that I was human, wish that I could fuck her tight cunt right here in the snow like the monster I am, but not bite her. Her soft throat is too beckoning, and I want her too much. I can’t trust myself.
She does something to me I’ve not experienced in my long years on this earth, but thankfully the want to protect her overrides all else.
My control has never been tested this way, and it is agony to force myself away from her, unsure of what I may do to her, especially with her so willing in my arms. She is astonishing. And far too trusting for the likes of me.
After what seems like an hour, we finally reach the side door.
“Doyle will know where all the first aid is kept.” I set her on her feet in the foyer, intent on putting as much space between us as possible. I indicate to his large office doors. “Get your hand looked at. I’ll be up to your room in a moment.”
She nods. “Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.” Her expression is puzzled, and I flee as soon as her feet head in that direction.
My gut fills with disgust at myself for not thinking of something like this. She could have easily been hurt. Hollowness spreads within me at the thought, and my mind swirls with possibilities.
I belatedly wonder if Frank can come up with some concoction to keep me from wanting to bite her. The sunscreen seems to work effectively, so why not something that could prevent me from hurting her in the future? That would require me admitting this flaw I have with her, and that may make him ask questions. I will have to be cunning about it.
Breathing deeply when I enter my study, I pour a glass of scotch and knock it back as I wait. Doyle will come. I know he will.
Twenty minutes later, he finally steps into the room, looking concerned, and I can already tell what he’s thinking.
“You almost attacked her, didn’t you?” Doyle sighs and reaches for the decanter himself. “Humans bleed too easily, and you haven’t fed in decades. If you would just stay away from her . . .”
“Have you smelled her?” I ask, wondering if she calls to him the way she does me, the way I cannot smell or think of anything but her.
I watch him as he tilts his head to the side and shrugs. The bastard has. I growl menacingly and he flinches. As well he should. She is mine.
“What am I supposed to do, plug my nose?” He wrinkles it as the scotch pours into his glass. “You two have the entire castle full of pheromones.”
I roll my eyes in distaste, my fury subsiding. “Hmmph. She was hurt and all I could do was stand there like an idiot before falling on her like some sex-crazed buck in a rut. I should have more control.”
He frowns over his glass when he lifts it to his mouth. “I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself, really. I mean, as long as she was, well, you know.”
I lower my own glass. “What?”
“From what I can smell, she wants you just as much, but I think her emotions are a bit all over the place. She’s just scared, Vlad. You forget what time is so quickly because you have so much of it. You’ve known the girl three days.”
“I know.”
“Give her time. She’s fine, it was just a scratch, hardly bleeding, but as cold as her hands were, I’m sure it didn’t feel nice.” He stops to take a sip of his drink before setting it on the table. “I sent her to her room with some milk and cookies. Maybe I should send wine?”
“I want to speak with Frank soon. Perhaps he has some ideas on how I can keep my urges at bay in such circumstances. And no, don’t get her drunk, for fuck’s sake. I’m barely hanging on to my sanity.”
The thought of her lush and willing has my blood boiling, but something about alcohol loosens the inhibitions in humans, and I want her to be aware every time I take her. I want her to know who it is inside her, fucking her perfect heat and filling her until she shatters. Watching her as she breaks apart.
“With Jekyll at his disposal, I’m sure they can come up with something to keep the guests safe while here,” Doyle says, interrupting my thoughts. “We just have to be careful with what we tell them. They don’t know about the hotel yet.”
I eye him a moment, my thoughts snagging on the words “guests” and “hotel.” The notion that I’m not so concerned with anyone else crosses my mind. “Reach out and let me know what they say. I’m willing to try if it will keep our guests safe.”
“What if we tell her you’re indisposed? I can keep her busy with things around the castle.”
I growl, the sound reverberating out of my chest, and my lips curl into a snarl. “You will not touch her.”
His eyebrows raise. “Should I be worried about how possessive you’re acting right now? Do you hear yourself? Ignoring the fact that you would question my honor, have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“No?”
“You might need to eat again,” he says, eyeing my face oddly, then nods. “At the very least, eat again. You’re sweating.”
“This is all a side effect, most likely from my body regenerating too quickly—or the sunscreen. It must be the sunscreen,” I mumble to myself. It has been almost a hundred years, after all.
“Jekyll wouldn’t allow anyone to alter the sunscreen,” Doyle offers, then sighs heavily, setting his glass onto the table before pulling the lapels of the coat he insists on wearing. “Vlad, just make sure you’re not making the same mistake as you did with Angelique.”
“Aubrey is nothing like Angelique. That woman was a viper in sheep’s clothing.”
“Yes, well here you are, with the same circumstances, actually. You chasing a woman and being all chivalrous.”
