Page 43 of Never Say Never

"I wanted to see if you were home," York said.

Abandoning the house, I tugged the door behind me quietly. I made my way through the back gate, took the alley, and stepped out onto another street. My stolen car was waiting. I would have to ditch it, but for now it was just what I needed.

"I will be in a bit. Why? Want to come over and have some fun?"

York was silent for a second. My stomach tightened even with the endorphins of a kill rushing through my veins. I was hyperaware that something was wrong with him.

I'll kill whoever pissed you off.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I calmed myself down. Can't go on a killing spree. I got a little taste this past month and now my bloodlust had been reawakened. I needed to slip back into the headspace of Paul, not Gianpaolo.

"What? Did something happen?"

York blew out a breath. "Yeah, but I want to not think about it for a bit."

I nodded as if he could see me. "Mi casa es su casa. Give me forty minutes and I'll be there. I know exactly how to help you clear your mind."

Wig discarded, contacts back in, and freshly showered, I was ready for York the moment he knocked on the door. I ran over to it, opening it with a huge smile on my face and my shirt open. Water still clung to me, in turn soaking into my clothes. York's face was blank as he stood outside my door. His dark brown eyes traveled down the length of my body, admiring every bare inch. I didn't expect him to jump me and beg for my cock but the moment our eyes locked, I knew he wasn't just over for sex.

I moved to the side, giving him space to walk into my home. "Come in."

York moved past me, his broad shoulders brushing against my chest and his cologne tickling my nose. Need was already coursing through my veins along with the high from my kills. I was wired like a coke addict. Any touch from York was bound to send me into a frenzy. The smart choice would have been to call a rain check and go fuck some nameless body or three for the night. After a little fun in blood, I tended to need the mental and physical release that only came after a mind breaking orgasm.

I wasn't too sure York was ready for that level. Or for anything at all. For all I knew, he could have come over to talk, maybe break off whatever the fuck we were doing. The dates weren't dates and the sex was… fuck, it was good. We hadn't done any form of penetration yet, and I swore I was hooked. Touching York, watching the way he lost himself to pleasure, was something to behold. Knowing I was one of the select few that was granted permission to take pleasure in his body only heightened the experience.

"What were you doing?"

I locked my door, following behind him as he took a seat on the couch. I'd probably sat on the thing possibly five times. One of the random items that was bought in bulk when I assumed my new role in life. Nothing about it was my kind of style, my place wasn't even mine. Everything in it was generic and felt almost sterile. I'd kept it that way over the years. I'd never get used to being this person, not when I knew who I really was.

"Not much. Went to have a little fun at the batting cages." I grabbed a glass from the kitchen and browsed the bit of alcohol I did have in the cabinets. "Tequila or bourbon?"

"Neither," York said. He leaned back on the sofa looking out of place on the pristine white fabric. It was nothing like his huge, comfortable sectional that fit his home decor and was more inviting. "I didn't come over here to drink."

I grabbed the bourbon anyways pouring him two fingers worth over a few cubes of ice. I made my way into the small living room and handed a glass to him anyway. I sipped on my own, hoping the booze took off some of the edge. My skin felt tight, as if one wrong breath would make me pop.

"Why did you come over?" I asked.

York looked at the drink, his hands engulfed the glass and my stupid brain took that imagery to the next level. Imagining those big hands were wrapped around my throat while my cock was buried in his virgin hole. My dick twitched, and I hurriedly blinked away the thought.

Calm the fuck down.

"I don't know."

"All right." I downed my glass and pushed his up to his mouth. "Finish it."

York lifted a brow, not following my orders. At times like this, I wanted to force him, but I knew there was no forcing York Washington. The man wasn't someone to take lightly; it was one of the many reasons I had such a hard-on for him.

"I didn't come over to get drunk."

"One drink won't get you drunk. Now, drunk off dick, that's a different story."

"Paul, I?—"

I snatched the glass out of his hand and tilted it back, filling my mouth with bourbon. York's mouth opened in surprise, and I took the chance for what it was. He could punch me or do whatever the fuck he wanted as long as he fucking touched me. I was going crazy and it was taking everything in me to act normal, but right now, the Paul persona was bleeding away and Gianpaolo needed to roll in his need.

I gripped his chin, keeping him steady as I fed him bourbon from my mouth. Some spilled out, coating my fingers in the spicy liquid. Pressing my thumb against the side of his throat, I encouraged York to swallow. He did, his dark brown eyes never wavering from our locked gaze. The intensity in which he watched me only made me want him more. I followed the bourbon, swiping my tongue over York's, tasting him and the liquor. It was a rush straight to my cock. A groan spilled out of me as pleasure from a simple kiss had me in a choke hold. Maybe it was because I was on a high after taking care of my family's problem, but I was certain York could slap my ass and I'd cum right now.

"Talk later," I said, pulling back from the kiss just long enough to pull York off the sofa.