Page 13 of Vampire Savage
I reach out and capture one of the strawberry blonde curls caressing her shoulder, twirling it before rubbing the silken strands between my thumb and forefinger.
“What stopped you?”
Her hair fascinates me and I force myself to release the lock, though it wraps around my finger as I pull away, as if begging me to bury my hands in the strands and never let her go.
A shadow flies across her eyes, there for a fraction of a moment, but there nonetheless. She’s thinking about whatever made her hesitate and if I let her think too long, she’ll take wing and fly away. I drop my hand and hook two fingers under hers that rest on her thigh, the silk of her dress warm from her body heat.
“Why don’t we conduct a working interview?” I infuse my voice with sensual warmth and illicit promises, ensuring I’m quiet enough that only she can hear me. I never break her wide gaze, even as I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb just as I had her lip.
When her mouth lifts in a small smile, I know I have her.
“And when would we schedule this working interview?”
I lift my lowball with my free hand, bringing it in front of my mouth before answering. “What’s the saying? No time like the present?”
Her eyebrows shoot towards her hairline, and she looks at the crowded bar around us.
“Not here at the bar, of course,” I continue after taking a satisfying swallow of whisky.
“I can’t leave,” she says, chewing on the inside of her lower lip in consideration. Good, she isn’t willing to give up so easily. As I told her, she overcomes hurdles others would wilt before.
“Nor can I,” I reply and then drink the rest of my whisky with a speed disrespectful to the vintage and flag the bartender down. He hurries over, ignoring the men and women still waiting for service. “I’ll be back,” I inform him and he nods while I stand. Out of habit, I button a single button on my black suit jacket before offering my hand to assist Wren.
She hesitates only for a moment before sliding her hand over mine and allowing me to help her stand. I drop her hand the moment she’s steady, moving to press my palm against the warm evergreen silk at her lower back, a bit lower than decorum dictates. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, when she looks at me as I guide her out of the bar and deeper into the restaurant.
“Where are we going?” she whispers, then looks around at the busy dining room. A few people look up at us as we pass, drinking either one or both of us in. No doubt we make an attractive couple.
Me with my Scandinavian looks and pale blond hair towering beside Wren, a woman who appears to be a seductive tree nymph pulled from Celtic lore, the crown of her head only a few inches shorter than mine courtesy of her tall heels.
“Trust me, Little Bird,” I answer her and school my expression into one of bored aloofness. She says nothing and presses her small clutch to her stomach.
By the time we slip into the service hall off the kitchen entrance, her sweet arousal surrounds me and my fangs are elongated with the desire to sink deep into her and learn if she tastes as alluring as she smells.
Her heart is racing, and she struggles to control her breathing as we disappear down the hall. I turn a corner, glancing either direction to ensure we’re alone. There is a security camera behind us at the junction, but with what I have planned, they won’t see a thing.
“Landon–”
The way she says my name causes a visceral reaction in my viens. I crowd her against the plain white wall, trapping her there with only my nearness. I dip my head until my lips brush the shell of her ear.
“Wren,” I breathe her voice, my fingers flexing at my sides as her hands fly up to press against my chest. She isn’t pushing me away though.
“We’ll be caught,” she protests, nervously looking in the direction we came from.
“I won’t let that happen,” I promise her. It’s true. I won’t let anyone interrupt us. “Now, look at me, Wren.”
I move my head back enough she can twist to face me, our mouths inches from each other. Her gaze moves to mine, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
“I imagine you’ll be gorgeous with my cock between those pretty lips of yours,” I tease, and she reacts exactly how I want. Her head slips back a few inches until it rests against the wall, and I hold her eyes. Already she is flushed and panting, eager to be debauched.
“But that will be later, if I pass this interview.” I tease the silk at her hips, barely brushing my fingertips over the fabric. “Say yes, Wren.”
She takes a deep breath and meets my gaze, bewildered but determined.
“Yes.”
Chapter Six
WREN