Scarlet Heat by Evangeline Anderson
“Uh, about my moon sickness,” I said, stretching the truth considerably. “The way I get stuck in my, uh, other form sometimes.” The brand on my lower back throbbed again, calling me out. I felt uncomfortable lying to her—or at least not telling the whole truth. But there were some ugly things she just didn’t need to know. I was doing it to protect her. Right?
“Well, I like you in either form,” she said, giving me a shy smile. “In fact, sometimes I like your wolf form better. He’s more cuddly.”
“Oh, too bad about that.” I shook my head. “I can change right now for you but I’m afraid it might ruin our plans for the evening.”
“Plans?” She looked at me doubtfully. “We have plans?”
“Uh-huh. How do you feel about salsa dancing?”
She bit her lip. “Um…it sounds great but…you dance? Really?”
I gave her my best mock offended look. “I’m not as much of a Neanderthal as you want to believe. Yeah, I dance. I’m pretty fucking good at it, if I say so myself.”
“Well, I’m not any good at it but I’m willing to give it a try.” Her face fell. “Only I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Yes, you do.” I went back out to the porch and picked up the package I’d left outside earlier. “Hope you like it,” I said as she ripped into it eagerly. “My sister picked it out. She owns a boutique in Tallahassee.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed as the dress my big sister had picked came into view. It was a short, shimmery thing with a draped top and a low cut back. There were shoes to match too—strappy little heels that would make her long, lovely legs look like they went on forever. I couldn’t wait to see her in them.
That is, if she would wear the clothes and shoes my sister had picked—I wasn’t so sure because suddenly Taylor had tears in her eyes.
“You don’t like the outfit?” I asked anxiously. “I can send it back. I—”
“No, no—I love it.” She sniffed and blotted her eyes with a paper towel from the holder. “It’s just…so sweet. And it’s the first time someone else has picked my clothes in years and got me something I really wanted to wear. Thank you, Victor.” She put the box with the clothes and shoes on the counter and stood on tiptoe to put her arms around my neck. “You’re so sweet to me,” she whispered in my ear. “So sweet and kind and generous.”
“You deserve it,” I said gruffly, hugging her back. I couldn’t help liking the way she felt in my arms, all soft and sweet and delicate. Then, though I knew I shouldn’t, I pressed my face to her neck and inhaled deeply, taking in her scent.
It was hot—a lot hotter than it should have been, which bothered me. Clearly the heat was ramping up again. I didn’t want to say anything about it though—it sounded too opportunistic. Like I wanted an excuse to touch her naked body, to stroke her and hold her and make her come. Actually, that was exactly what I wanted but I felt like a jerk for wanting it, especially knowing what she had been through when she lived with Celeste. So I told myself that if Taylor needed help she would come to me. She wouldn’t let herself get too far gone now that she knew the consequences—right?
God, I hoped not. Especially since her scent acted on me like a drug. It was a closed loop—a vicious circle. The hotter her scent got, the more I wanted her, and the more I wanted her, the more the brand on my lower back ached and throbbed. It would be dangerous to let the cycle continue to a peak but that wasn’t going to happen. Taylor would let me know when she needed me. I just had to trust that.
We both held the hug a lot longer than was probably necessary. She felt so good in my arms, so right, like she belonged there. I could feel her full breasts pressed against my chest and the soft V of her thighs against my groin. It was sweet torture being so close to her and not being able to do anything to claim her but I liked it anyway.
I never wanted to let her go.
Chapter Fifteen—Taylor
The dress fit perfectly, as did the shoes. Victor must have looked at my sizes before calling his sister. He had mentioned her once or twice before—apparently she was the only member of his family that still kept up with him after he’d been shut out of his home pack. I didn’t know her personally but I was beginning to really like her—she had great taste in clothes.
I went to the mirror over the sink to take a final look at myself. I had to admit that the shimmery blue dress clung beautifully to my curves. I had filled out some since I had been feeding on Victor so often. Honestly, I really only needed blood once every two or three days but he insisted on letting me drink from him much more often than that. As a result, I had put on a little weight (not a bad thing since I had been practically emaciated when I first came to stay with him) and there was warmth and color in my cheeks.
I twirled in the mirror, loving the way I looked. The silky cerulean blue material brought out my eyes and the strappy black shoes made me glad I’d just given my toes a fresh coat of polish. The only thing I didn’t like was that the back of the dress was too low to wear a bra with it, but the cowl neck draped over my chest well enough to hide the fact that I was braless—I hoped, anyway.
I felt cautiously optimistic about our little dance date. The very fact that Victor had called his sister and asked her to send him the perfect dress days ago made me think he really cared. And if he cared that much for me, why would he bother with LeeAnn? He wouldn’t, I told myself firmly. So stop worrying about it and just enjoy yourself tonight.
As I was making sure my hair and makeup were perfect, Victor came into the bathroom and stood behind me. To my surprise, he was dressed up too—as dressed up as he ever got, anyway. He had on a white button-down shirt tucked into crisp, spotless jeans and he was actually wearing a sports coat. No tie though, which was good. It would have been too formal.
I gave him a smile in the mirror as I put on some lip gloss.
“You clean up nice, for a werewolf.”
“And you’re not so bad for a vamp,” he growled, his eyes roaming over my reflection in the mirror. “In fact, you look fucking gorgeous.”
“Thanks.” I could feel myself blushing at the way he was looking at me. In the mirror, I could see my cheeks getting pink.
“Hey,” he murmured stroking one finger lightly over my hot cheek. “What’s wrong—can’t take a compliment?”
“You’re just embarrassing me,” I said, not meeting his eyes. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” His deep voice seemed to go right through me and the delicious scent of leather and fur invaded my senses, making it hard to think.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Like…like you’re the big bad wolf and you want to eat me up.”
The minute I said the words I regretted them. They were too charged with meaning—too easy to misconstrue. Especially when I could feel the heat of his big body climbing my skin like an electric current, and his warm, masculine scent was driving me crazy.
“Of course I want to eat you, baby,” he murmured, catching my eyes in the mirror and holding them with his own, which had suddenly gone wolf gold. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”
“Victor…” I shifted uneasily, pressing my thighs together tightly under the thin dress. “You know what I mean.”
“And you know what I mean, too,” he growled softly. I saw his nostrils flare and wondered if he was smelling me too—smelling my heat. God…I crossed my legs even though it was awkward to do standing up and looked away.
“We should go,” I whispered.
“Yeah. I guess we should.” He cleared his throat. “But Taylor…”
“What?” I glanced up, meeting his eyes again. They were still brilliant gold. Say it, I thought. If you’ll say it first I might be able to give in. But I can’t be the one to bring it up. I can’t.
Victor opened his mouth and then shut it again. He shook his head.
“Nothing. Let’s go.”
I followed him out of the bathroom, feeling uneasy. The weight of things unsaid between us was like a rock around my
I knew from experience that touching myself wouldn’t help, but that didn’t stop my pussy from getting swollen and hot or my tight nipples from chafing against the soft material of my dress. I wished I was one hundred percent sure about the LeeAnn thing. And even more, I wished I was less inhibited—that I could erase the past six years of my life and not have so much baggage in the way of getting what I needed. But that was impossible. I was stuck—mentally and physically stuck—and there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about it.
We were silent on the way over to the club—a place in Ybor City called Caliente. I kept seeing Victor’s nostrils flare and wondering if he was going to say something but he didn’t. He just stared straight ahead and drove, reminding me uncomfortably of our first trip together, on the night he had taken me from Under the Fang to his house.
He found a space in the parking garage and we walked through the echoing building and three blocks down to the heart of Ybor City. It was a trip I probably wouldn’t have wanted to make on my own—through a dark alleyway and over an abandoned railroad track overgrown with weeds. There were always reports of drunk college girls getting themselves into trouble down here—mainly because of drunk college boys who didn’t seem to understand the word “no.”
I was a vampire now and much stronger than I had been when I was college girl myself, but I was still glad of Victor’s looming presence by my side. It was rough walking in heels though—going over the railroad tracks my foot slipped in the loose gravel and I tripped and almost fell. Supernaturally strong, I might be—supernaturally graceful, not so much. Victor caught me by the arm, saving me from a nasty fall, and I smiled at him gratefully.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Instead of letting me go, he slid his hand down my arm in a gesture that sent sparks of desire through my entire body. “This okay?” he murmured, taking my hand in his.
“Sure.” I struggled to control my breathing, hoping my voice didn’t sound too ragged. “It…it’s nice.”
“Good.” He gave me an intense look, his eyes flashing gold. “Come on, let’s go dance.”
It was Friday night so Caliente was hopping. Most of the clientele seemed to be a bit older than the college kids that populated the other clubs, and quite a few of them seemed to know what they were doing. I watched in awe as they whirled around the dance floor, their feet blurs of motion as they performed the intricate moves.
“Lots of professional dancers come here,” Victor explained, raising his voice to be heard over the pumping Latin music as we threaded our way through the crowd, searching for a table. “Good place to practice, you know?”
“I guess…” I was getting more and more nervous about the idea of dancing in public. I’ve never been much of a party girl and as I said before, I’m not especially graceful. When we finally found a table, I was content just to sit and watch.
Victor got us some drinks—scotch for him and red wine for me.
“I know you can’t drink much of it,” he murmured, handing me the glass. “But I thought it might help you loosen up some.”
“Thanks.” I accepted the glass and took a sip. “But we don’t, uh, process alcohol that way. I literally can’t get a buzz. Well, unless…”
“Unless what?” he asked, taking a sip of his own glass.
“Unless I drank from someone who had been drinking.” I nodded at his scotch. “Then I would feel the same effects they were feeling.”
“Hmm.” He nodded thoughtfully. “So I guess I should be careful how much I drink if I don’t want to get you drunk.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m going to bite you here in public.” I protested, feeling my cheeks get hot. Feeding from Victor was a very sensual experience—for both of us, I believed, although he had never admitted it out loud. But he never failed to get hard when I drank from him so I was certain it must be affecting him in some way.
Victor grinned at me. “Why shouldn’t you drink from me? Lots of dark corners in here. Just because we’re in public doesn’t mean we can’t be private.”
I shivered at the thought of biting him in public. Of watching him bare the strong column of his throat for me and letting me sink my fangs into his flesh. The heat came rushing over me again, making me shift in my seat and cross my legs.
Victor’s nostrils flared. “Taylor…”
“Why don’t we just dance?” I blurted, standing up so quickly I knocked over my wine.
He caught my long stemmed glass before it could topple and put it back on the table without comment.
“All right,” he said, taking another drink of scotch and standing up. “How much do you know?”
“Nothing,” I said. “You’ll have to teach me—sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He took my hand and led me to a slightly less crowded corner of the large dance floor. “Watch,” he said, placing my hand on his shoulder and cupping my waist. He took my other hand in his. “The man leads. As I’m stepping forward, you’re stepping back. It’s an eight beat—one, two, three, pause. One, two, three, pause…”
I looked down at his feet, trying to catch the rhythm. It seemed simple enough. After a minute I was able to follow, although I admit I stepped on his toes one or twice in the process.
“Good, good,” Victor murmured encouragingly.
“How did you learn to do this?” I asked, concentrating on getting my feet right.
“My big sister—the same one that picked out your dress. She made me come with her when she took lessons so she never had to worry about getting a partner.”
“You’re really good,” I said admiringly as he moved me around the dance floor.
“You will be too,” he assured me. “You’re getting it—you’re just a little stiff. Here…”
He spun me around suddenly so that my back was to his front. Then he put both large hands on my hips and began to move me in time to the thumping, Latin beat.
I bit back a gasp as we moved, my body finding the perfect rhythm at last now that his front was flush against my back. The music pumped and all around us couples were flashing by in the dark but I barely even saw them—my entire attention was given to Victor—his hands on my hips, his body against mine.
His big body covered me, surrounded me. His scent filled my senses—leather and fur and warm shafts of sunlight in the forest but something else too—a heat that matched my own. The dark spice of masculine desire emanated from him, making me dizzy with lust. The heat flashed through me so fast and hard I could hardly keep my feet. I needed him…needed him so much—too much. My nipples were suddenly tight little points and my pussy felt so wet and swollen I had to spread my legs to control the ache.
“Victor,” I gasped, turned back to face him. “I need…I need…”
“Say it,” he rasped, his eyes going gold. “Say it, baby. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”
I wanted to say it—wanted to beg for his help so badly I could taste the words on my lips. But somehow they wouldn’t come out.
“I…” I dropped my eyes, unable to meet that hungry golden stare. “I…I’m thirsty,” I said at last, when nothing else could come out.
He lifted my chin and looked at me. “That’s it? You’re thirsty?”
I bit my lip. It wasn’t what I had wanted to say but now that it was out, I couldn’t take it back.
“I’m sorry. I know we’re out here in public. I—”
“We can find a little privacy.” Taking my hand, he led me to a dark corner of the club. There was no one there in the shadows—just a dusty exit door with a push bar and a few high-backed bar stools that had probably been moved to make more room for dancing.
Victor put one of the stools against the wall and sat down on it. The sitting position put his neck right in line with my mouth. The first button of his shirt was already open but he un
“Go on, baby,” he murmured. “Drink.”
Suddenly I was so thirsty I could barely stand it. It was as though the heat growing in me, having been denied one outlet, was taking another. My fangs were out and throbbing, my throat dry as a desert. I couldn’t help myself. I took a step forward, leaned over him and struck.
His big body jerked as my fangs pierced his skin hard and fast. And then he was pulling me to him, one hand in my hair and the other on my back.
“God, baby,” he growled hoarsely. “Feels so fucking good when you do that. Go on, get your fangs in me deep.”
My whole body felt like it was on fire. My nipples were so sensitive and tight the soft material of my dress seemed intensely irritating and my panties were soaked with my juices. Yet the thirst continued unabated.
I drank him in, swallowing deep, hungry gulps of his delicious blood. Then, somehow one of his thighs was between my legs and I was grinding against him, pressing hard to feel the rough denim and the hard muscle beneath it rubbing my tender pussy.
Something inside me told me I should be careful. When a vampire’s bloodlust and fuck-lust combine it can be a lethal mixture for the hapless person they’re having sex with and feeding on—especially if they’re doing both at the same time. But Victor was strong. He could take it if I got a little wild, a little out of control.
I wasn’t taking it easy on his neck—my fangs bit deep in a way that had to be painful. Yet, Victor didn’t seem to mind. He had his hands on my hips again, urging me to grind harder, pressing me down against him in a way that made me sure he could feel the heat of my pussy against his thigh. I dug my fingers into his broad shoulders and sucked harder—rubbing and drinking at the same time, feeding two desires at once.
But not nearly as much as I needed to.
More, I needed so much more. Quenching my thirst was only a substitute for the heat. I understood the truth of what Victor had tried to tell me when he first explained what was going on. My body wanted to be taken—bred. Fucked hard and long by a male who knew how to do it right. By my mate.