Page 32 of The Predator
She traced the tip of the blade over my cock. “This isn’t a butter knife, you know.”
I cupped her tits and groaned.
Her eyes became hooded. “You should be afraid, Sam.”
I tried to pinch a nipple through the fabric of her sweater and bra. “Baby doll, my cock is your playground. You won’t do anything to ruin that.”
“Arrogant vampire.”
I yanked on her damp hair, pulling her head back so she could look at me. “Did you miss me?” With her in my grasp, I realized just how much I’d missed her. That knot that had grown since she’d sped off twelve days before had now loosened. Oh, yeah. I was still counting.
Her hungry blue eyes were dilated. “Miss you? Not a chance, vampire.” She grabbed my wrist, sliced a small opening, and stared at the blood oozing out.
I guided her head to my wrist. “You’re dying for a taste.”
She licked her lips, and my cock jerked. Man, I was about to lose my shit in my jeans.
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Hurry before it closes.” I sounded like a beggar.
“Something is wrong with me. Why do I want blood?”
I pulled the dagger from her and slit a deeper cut into my wrist. “Drink. We’ll worry about why later.”
She didn’t hesitate as she latched onto my skin and suckled then moaned as if ready to orgasm.
I knew I was.Motherfucker.
I smoothed my free hand over her hair before I kissed her head. “That’s it. Take all you need, baby.” I was such a goner.
But our bubble of lust popped instantly when tires crunched over gravel.
Layla jerked back, horrified.
I tugged her to me and kissed her quickly, licking my blood off her mouth.
She resisted for a split second then molded her body into mine.
The engine grew louder, so I broke the kiss. “There. No more blood.”
She swayed on her feet, and I caught her. Then she wiped her hands on her tight jeans, shook off the aftereffects of what had just happened, and skirted the workbench.
I followed her out through the open garage door as the SUV parked alongside my rental car.
“This SUV reminds me of what Roman was driving the night he cut off my uncle Ray’s thumb,” she said in an even tone.
Her aunt came out of the house, glanced at us, then addressed the man dressed in what looked to be a government-issue suit. His brown hair was slicked back with hair gel, and he wore a boatload of aftershave.
I winced at the smell, which didn’t mix well with horse manure. “Do you normally have guests who look like the FBI or CIA?” I asked Layla.
Just the thought of the CIA had me clenching my fists. The former CIA agent, Wyman, was still our guest on the naval base. So he couldn’t have contacted his former employer, even though his goal had been capturing me then turning me over to them.
I discarded that thought. The CIA wouldn’t know I was there. This trip had been a last-minute decision. Maybe this dude was working with Roman. Maybe Roman had sent him to scope things out for him.
“Did you come alone, Sam?” She kept her gaze trained on the man, who was handing Tabitha a business card.
“Yeah. Conrad has my back, though.”
