Page 16 of Soren

The yokel in flannel currently grinding on some poor girl in yoga pants was a prime illustration of that fact.

Still, it wasn’t the worst place. Decent drinks, with a dance floor that, despite current evidence to the contrary, could get lively enough on a weekend night. But it was nothing compared to the clubs Soren had frequented in his travels. Soren licked his lips as memories of slick skin and tight bodies gyrating under glowing lights ran through his mind.

Paris, New York, Dubai. There were so many better places to be.

This is what happens when you settle in Nowheresville, Colorado, instead of moving on like you’re supposed to.

Soren could head to Mexico City right now if he really wanted to. Find a beautiful man with a big cock and delicious blood to spend the night with.

But the thought just didn’t hold the appeal it once had. Plus, Soren had…obligations. To Danny and Roman. At least for the next three weeks.

Right.

Like that would be enough to keep him here, if he really wanted to leave. Soren was loyal, true, but he wasn’t anyone’s lapdog.

Not anymore, you mean.Soren brushed the thought aside, taking another sip of his drink.

“Fancy seeing you here.” A voice said from behind him. It was deep and smooth, but Soren could spot the smarminess in it a mile away.

Still, Soren was here for a reason. He wasn’t looking for Prince Charming. He turned to the side, peering up at the man who had appeared over his shoulder. He was tall, nicely muscled, with blond hair kept shorter than Soren’s own.

It took Soren a moment to place him. The flirty doctor from Gabe’s work.Dr. Morgan? Murphy?The one who had looked at Soren with such obvious interest.

A look very similar to the one he was giving Soren now.

“We met this morning. Dr. Monroe, if you needed a reminder,” the larger man said teasingly.

“What a coincidence,” Soren murmured, downing the rest of his drink in one swallow.

Monroe motioned the bartender over. “What are you having?” he asked Soren.

Soren let the man buy him a drink, studying the doctor as they chatted about mindless, inane nonsense. He should have been exactly what Soren was looking for tonight. Handsome, passably charming, big enough that Soren would enjoy the power play of taking control.

He waited for the familiar pull of his inner vamp looking for prey. The thrill of the hunt.

There was nothing.

But that was no reason to go hungry. Even if this man was…wrong. Too blond, too smooth, toonice.

Soren put up with a little more of the doctor’s attempts at flirtation, then leaned in close, flashing him a grin. It was a toned-down version of the one that left so many people unsettled in his presence. The one he loved giving a certainotherstuffy doctor, just to watch him squirm.

“Want to get out of here?” Soren purred, placing a hand on Monroe’s arm. The man nodded eagerly, practically drooling as they paid their bill.

Ten minutes and one minor compulsion later and Soren was gently licking Monroe’s bite mark closed in the alley behind the bar. His saliva could do that, with small enough wounds. Part of the ol’ vampire magic.

Soren had chosen Monroe’s wrist, not wanting the intimacy of a neck bite tonight. More out-of-character behavior. In the past, Soren had loved the false intimacy of a neck bite with a stranger.

But the smell was all wrong.

Soren sighed. He supposed Monroe didn’tobjectivelysmell bad. He wore some sort of sandalwood aftershave, clearly expensive. But he didn’t smell…clean. The way Gabe always smelled. Like citrus and soap. Even after a twelve-hour shift, or one of his long runs on the town’s trails.

And why the fuck does it matter what Gabe smells like?

Soren chose not to answer himself. He and his brain weren’t on speaking terms anymore.

He finished his task quickly and perfunctorily, just long enough for the small bite to completely heal. Monroe was panting, looking dazed and flushed, his hard cock tenting his slacks. The man hadn’tquitecome in his pants from the bite, but he’d been close.

Vampire feedings could do that to a person. Their bite in itself was usually pleasurable, unless they were aiming purposefully to create pain. It was an evolutionary trick that made it easier to compel people into remembering only pleasure afterward, rather than fear. It also lent itself to the delightful combination of blood and sex, a combination most vampires craved.

---