Vampire Mistress (36 page)

She laid her hand on his throat, collaring it with her slim fingers, and earned another flicker from those mesmerizing eyes, a tightening of that sexy mouth. “My desire for dominance wasn’t all about noble, charitable reasons. I learned I healed myself that way as well. By taking a man into that moment, I brought myself there as well, in a different way.”

He stayed so still under her touch, making her thighs shift restlessly against each other, a yin and yang response. “And what moment are you in right now?” he asked, low.

“I want to go check on the club.”

Everything she was feeling right now was pleasure. Pleasure in his responses, in her strength. In his new connection to her, his hard cock and pounding heart, the way his blue eyes were hungry and full of fire. For the first time in several days, she felt balanced. In control of herself. Maybe the sire’s blood was helping, but she preferred to think it was the strength that her body was drawing from that connection to Gideon, just as Daegan had suggested it could. Knowing how time was ticking toward the next seizure, and that the shadow voices were at their most muted, she found she wanted to exult in this one moment, make the most of it.

However, his startled expression, followed by wariness, cast a pall on such optimism. “Anwyn, that’s not a good idea.”

“Didn’t your brother have limited freedom during his transition?”

“Yes, but this isn’t the same. You know it.”

“I know that,” she said calmly, though her pulse started to hammer, the precursor of temper. “Daegan said he thought I was about ready for some short, supervised excursions. The club’s not open right now, just a handful of staff topside.”

“Well, then, shouldn’t we check with Daegan first? He might—”

“I can make this decision on my own,” she snapped. At his look, she closed her eyes, her fingers into fists. “That was normal temper, Gideon. It pisses me off to beg for it. I’ve had to ask for permission like a child to do anything for the past few days. I’m never alone, not in my mind. If it’s not Daegan, it’s you, keeping tabs on me, and even if I didn’t feel you there, those godawful voices would be. I know you need to be there—I’m glad,” she added, “but I’m trying to make a point. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had to ask permission for anything, let alone something as simple as a walk through my own club?”

She took a breath. “I understand why you’re concerned. But, as you said, I’ve handled myself damn well for having every scrap of control taken away from me. You’ve chained me up, put me in a cage.” At his slight flinch, she pressed the advantage, not ashamed to be ruthless. “Hell, I’ve put manacles on myself. I’m not being irrational. I just need thirty minutes to give myself a taste of my own life. It’s an acceptable risk. You know it. I won’t try to put the screen between us while we’re up there. If you sense anything about to change, we come back here right away. I wouldn’t risk my people, Gideon. You
know
that.”

He grimaced. She could tell, and hear in his mind, that he was vacillating between his desire to give her what she wanted and erring on the side of caution. But for reasons she couldn’t explain, she couldn’t bear to bring Daegan’s passionless logic into this. She gave Gideon an arch look. “Do
you
feel the need to check with Daddy first?”

Okay, she knew that was a nasty ego shot, but like a wild bird who’d been slapped into a cage before she’d even realized she was caught, she wanted one little taste of freedom. Strength was pumping through her. She felt better than she had in hours, and it wasn’t the false adrenaline surge. She was sure of it.

She rose and he straightened at the same time, emphasizing the difference in their heights. At the moment it was a good thing, underscoring that he was powerful, a skilled warrior, and connected to her in a way that would help him protect her. Sidling closer, she ran a hand up his chest because she could, feeling the tempting terrain beneath. It was a woman’s hunger heating her blood, not an uncontrolled monster’s. She opened her mind fully, let it wash through him, the images in her mind. How she’d like it if he never wore a shirt, so she could stroke him, lick him, bite at his nipples and tease his throat with fangs and tongue. She knew he wasn’t a man that could be led by his cock, but this wasn’t about that. It was letting him see that she was in control of her own desires, her own wants.
Please, please don’t make me beg, Gideon.

She arched a brow, letting the emotional entreaty give way to sultry humor. “Unless you think you can defy me?”

23

O
F course he could defy her. She was stronger now, yeah, but short of throwing him over her shoulder and carrying him up there, he didn’t have to do what she said. Maybe she’d pushed his own buttons by implying he was checking in with Daegan, rather than believing her or having faith in his own abilities, but he wasn’t that easy to manipulate. He did understand her need to take a short jaunt, and all other things being equal, it did seem like an acceptable risk.

At least that was the conclusion he came to, hoping he wasn’t being guided by the fact he was so aching hard, he had to please her, even at the expense of personal humiliation. She’d been devastating to the senses even when she wasn’t in his mind. With that flood of images, it was a shotgun double charge to his cock, seeing what she wanted, how she was feeling.

As she’d worked on screening her mind, he’d figured out how to manage the open access to her mind without taking advantage of it, like standing by a rapidly flowing river but keeping his focus on the trees on the opposite bank. He was aware of the sound of the river, what lay in its depths, but he could do that without looking closely at it or hearing the individual nuances of the sounds. Of course, right now she’d invited him to be there, to make sure this turned out okay. If she kept throwing erotic images at him like that, though, he was going to lose his mind. He’d never wanted a woman so much.

Yet he knew his inability to say no to her wasn’t lust. It was something far harder to get under control. It was his understanding of how she felt, swept away by circumstances beyond her control. His empathy with the fact she was having to face everything she hated and feared.

She’d donned the slacks and tailored blouse of a business manager, along with a pair of stilettos that hinted at the smoldering sexuality of the woman beneath the clothes. Of course, the vivid eyes and lush mouth, beautiful hair twisted up and piled on her head, would do that if she wore sackcloth. Though the gremlins were still quiet, he sensed a new tension simmering in her muscles when she came out of her room. Now that she’d resolved to do it, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d made the right decision.

Though he’d been prepared to test her with a few more objections, that knowledge made him change direction. He knew how formidable she could be, but he wondered if she realized that when he looked at her, he saw the delicacy of her wrists, the thin fragility of her skin, how her eyes held so much. She was a tough lady, but she’d been raped, violated down to her soul, her very identity threatened, and really hadn’t been given any time to deal with that. She needed to believe in herself, in her own strength, to handle this. That small but powerful thought—
Please don’t make me beg
—was the key to what could break her.

He rose from the couch. “You look beautiful.”

It surprised a smile out of her. Her gaze passed over him, lingering indecently at his groin, passing over his thighs and then back up over his chest. “Stay close. I wouldn’t want any of these ladies to get any ideas.”

“I’ll be right behind you. Keeping my eye on every round, soft inch of your ass.”

When she narrowed her eyes at him in mock reproach, he attempted a sexy, reassuring smile. He wasn’t much on flirtation, but it felt right, and the increased warmth he sensed in her manner told him it might have helped. She moved to the door, but he got there first, putting his hand on her wrist to stop her. “I think that’s my job, right?”

As her blue-green eyes flickered up to his, he dared to slide his knuckles along the small of her back, just above her waistband. He indulged the male desire simmering through him, the compulsion to touch and reassure at once. “I’ll stay close to your mind; don’t worry. Just keep it open to me and everything will be fine, like you said.”

She nodded, her glossy lips pressing together, making him think of all sorts of moist, heated places. She apparently received that thought, or maybe it matched her own generous reservoir of lust, because when she preceded him out the door, she let her hand drift across his groin, giving his tormented cock a cruel caress.

That was okay, though. He was beginning to understand what things helped steady her, even if it unbalanced him, made him have to work extra hard to sharpen his senses and be on guard for her the way he needed to be. If an attack threatened, he wouldn’t be distracted.

Though it had been less than a week, it still seemed surreal, how things above had remained essentially unaffected. As she’d said, it was afternoon, so the club wasn’t yet open. Gideon was impressed by the efficiency with which the starting shift worked, methodically checking and cleaning playrooms, inspecting and sterilizing equipment. Fresh flowers were being placed in the appropriate playrooms and in the small bud vases on every table in the public areas. The dance floor was being waxed. Despite the din from the waxing machine, the evening DJ was doing sound checks for his equipment. Bartenders checked their alcohol stores and kitchen staff took stock of limes and lemons, as well as prepared the gourmet appetizers and desserts they provided as part of the club’s amenities.

James had done his job well. The club staff had been told Mistress Anwyn had taken a few days’ leave to deal with some business, the unspoken message being it was nothing out of the ordinary. She was greeted and approached as if she’d never been gone.

However, Anwyn was intimately involved in her club, so Gideon quickly realized they weren’t going to make it back downstairs in their agreed thirty minutes. Each area had questions and requests for her to wade through.

She handled it with easy grace, though, falling into a rhythm that seemed to soothe her mind. So, while he wouldn’t say he relaxed, as he stayed close to her, inside and out, he hoped this brief eye of calm would help prove to her the storm was in fact moving, that it would eventually pass over her. He wanted to believe that as much as she did.

After an hour of talking to various staff members, Anwyn turned to locate Gideon. She’d touched him with her mind constantly, felt his responding mental caress, and been pleased with that intimate form of communication, no words, just a feeling passed across a bridge. But now she wanted to see him.

He was leaning a hip against the bar, his arms crossed over his chest, while she discussed a supplier issue with Carlyle, the first-shift bartender. It was an intriguing combination, to experience his tenderness, his sexy warmth toward her, all in her mind, while on the outside he looked unapproachable and tough, a walking bad attitude. If Madelyn or any of the other Dommes had arrived yet, their jaws would have dropped. No one had tried to talk to him.

It made her want to saunter over, break that exterior by putting her palm over what the denim outlined so well. Though the images she’d shown him downstairs had been a while ago, his cock had stayed decently interested, probably because the scoundrel was passing the time by watching the shift of her ass under her snug trousers, thinking about sliding a well-lubricated cock along the channel between them while she lifted her hips from the bed to facilitate the movements. He’d lingered on the curve of her throat, wanting to lick her there, take sharp nips, since he’d discovered that she was ultra sensitive in that area. And of course he’d indulged his obsession with her hair, imagining pulling the pins from it to bring it tumbling down, covering her bare breasts, but then sifting through the curtain of it to find her aroused nipples, plucking and squeezing them until she was arching and gasping, her thighs loosening to invite him in to give her a just-short-of-fainting orgasm.

She was going to take him downstairs, tie him to a spanking bench and blister his ass. Of course, he was hungry for her because she was hungry for him, one response feeding the other in a slow, pleasurable spiral. It was the one thing she definitely liked about being a vampire, how it enhanced and increased the stamina so no fantasy was out of reach. She imagined pushing him with pain and pleasure until those eyes became cobalt fire and he begged for her cunt in his rough voice, part plea and part insolent demand.

She gave him a severe glance. He almost made her laugh as he blinked those cobalt eyes in guileless innocence, when the bartender wasn’t looking. The routine of the club had dispelled her initial nervousness about her defiant decision, and now she realized something remarkable. For the first time in days, she felt
good
. As though it was going to be all right.

This was
her
place, and she’d never felt it so keenly. Daegan had said vampires were very territorial, but she liked that feeling, this roll of slow power through her. She was strong, fast, so aware of everyone around her. She’d always been a sensual creature, but now she seemed to emanate pheromones that scattered like fairy dust over everyone she encountered. Her fingers drifted across Carlyle’s forearm as they spoke. She’d touched the small of the waitress’s back, encountering bare skin through the corset spacings, as they spoke about drink prices and the floor coverage for the evening. Now, as she moved out of the bar area and into the security office, she even slid a kiss across James’s cheek that lingered near his mouth one tantalizing moment before she drew back and thanked him for his help.

He cleared his throat gruffly. “You’re welcome, Miss Naime. You look . . . you look wonderful. I mean, like you’re doing very well.”

“I feel wonderful,” she said, and gave a throaty laugh that she knew would go straight to his testicles. It was a rare thing to see James off balance, and she loved it.

She looked like sex in motion on those preferred stilettos, Gideon thought darkly, as she sauntered back out of James’s office, leaving the man studying her with a slight flush on his usually stoic face. Every decision and word she offered was useful, productive, but as she continued through the club, the way she studied each employee was impossible not to notice. Like a fox sizing up each chicken in the henhouse.

He didn’t for one second wish to be marked by Daegan Rei, but Gideon did have a sudden wish he could speak directly to him. Vampires were oversexed, yeah, and Anwyn was already chock-f of sensuality, but he was getting a strange vibe. He didn’t sense one of her seizures coming, either bloodlust or transition, but something definitely wasn’t right.

Of course, could he trust his own judgment in the absence of that key indicator? Her touching every guy in range but him was starting to piss him off. She knew damn well he was aching hard for her.

No, that wasn’t it. This had all the earmarks of growing bloodlust, whether or not he was getting the signal for it. What would he do if she lost control and threw someone against the wall to suck their blood? He’d focused too much on the seizures, not on the impulse control that all young vamps had. Why in the hell had he let her come up here without letting Daegan know?

Because it was new to him, calling on someone else for help. Calling on Daegan particularly rankled his pride and those other issues he’d been wrestling with. However, he couldn’t help but recall his words.
She will be as bad as the most dangerous drug addict, willing to say or do anything.