Zane’s Redemption (13 page)

His teeth clenched, Zane issued his warning, “Never call me a liar!”

Her chest heaved from the sudden effort of breathing, her boobs pressing against his lean body with each breath, her nipples chafing and reacting instantly. When she tilted her hips forward, one realization infused her with courage to speak: he was sporting an erection.

“I’d call you lover, but you give me no choice.”

Zane closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring at the same moment. “I’ll never be your lover,” he countered, all anger drained from his toneless voice. “Go play with somebody else before you start something you can’t handle.”

He thought she couldn’t handle him? He was wrong! She would prove it to him.

Abruptly, Zane released his hold on her, but before he could step back, she framed his face with her hands and pressed her lips to his.

“Don’t,” he whispered but didn’t pull back.

Portia licked her tongue over the seam of his lips, urging him to surrender. A thrill charged through her body when Zane moved. His lips parted, and the next moment she felt herself sandwiched between the fridge door and his hard body.

Her hands dropped from his face to wrap around his neck, making sure he wouldn’t change his mind.

“You’ll regret this,” he murmured against her lips.

“I won’t.”

“I know
I
will.” But despite his contradicting comment, he stroked his tongue against her lips before he delved into her, capturing her mouth in a move indicating ultimate possession. He held her so tightly, not even with her hybrid strength would she have been able to escape him had she wanted to.

Zane kissed her as if he wanted to punish her, his tongue the whip that lashed her until she was raw, his lips the ties that bound her to him as his hands traveled over her torso in a frantic race to touch every inch before either of them had a change of mind.

Tasting the raw hunger in his kiss, the obvious desperation to possess and devour, Portia’s heart recognized her own need: to give herself to this man, this vampire, and to surrender to her desires, desires she’d never felt before. Everything was new and unknown. How had she lived until now without knowing what a touch and a kiss could do, how it could consume a person like a wildfire consumed a forest, leaving nothing behind but a charred surface?

That’s how she felt, her skin seared as if hot lava touched her instead of the sensual long fingers of the most enticing man—human or vampire—she’d ever met.  And those fingers did things to her, incredible things, exciting things: their touch was poison and soothing medicine all at once, first stirring up her insides, then calming them.

Their rhythm matched her breath, the tremors inside her reaching earthquake levels. Wherever Zane’s body connected with hers, she burned—and burned for more. Like an addict, she pulled him closer, moaning her approval and her surrender in one breath. Yet he didn’t seem to understand, continuing to unleash his devastating sexual prowess onto her when he could have stripped her of her clothes already and be driving into her without preamble.

Portia ripped her lips from his. “Take me now.”

Zane didn’t listen. His response was a growl, a sound only an animal could make. His eyes were glowing a deep orange, and his breath rushed from his lungs. Without a response, he took her mouth again, continuing where he’d left off as is she’d never interrupted.

Trying to ease the ache between her thighs, Portia drew up one leg and wrapped it around his thigh, making him press closer. She felt the hard outline of his erection against her soft core and rubbed herself against him, trying to find relief.

A groan rumbled from his chest and reverberated against her ribcage. One of his hands went to her backside, hauling her fully against him, increasing the friction between their bodies.

She went on tip toes to feel his erection pressing lower where her clit throbbed in concert with her heartbeat. Her hands went to his ass, her nails digging into the jeans she wished he wasn’t wearing.

All of a sudden, Zane lifted her, forcing her legs farther apart, compelling her to wrap them around his hips as he thrust against her.

The fridge behind her rattled, containers inside tumbling from the shelves. She didn’t care. Every time he thrust, his cock hit that little bundle of nerves that was swollen and aching for release. All she could think of was for him not to stop, for this never to end.

“I need …” she whimpered against his lips, unable to control her body’s reactions any longer.

A moment later, she felt his fangs grazing her lip, nipping slightly. Her nose detected blood, but her tongue would never taste it, because Zane licked her blood off her lips and swallowed it.

“Fuck!” he cursed and closed his eyes.

She didn’t know what he meant, nor did she care. “More!” As her hips ground against him, his cock dragging over her clit with every movement, she pulled his head back to her.

Ding Dong! Ding Dong!

No, not now! She would ignore it. Portia pressed her lips onto Zane’s, hoping he hadn’t heard the sound in his lust-drugged state, but he pulled back. In the next instant, she stood on her own two feet again, feet that were shaking uncontrollably, her entire body trembling with need.

“No!” she protested. She reached for him, but he turned his back to her.

“Fuck!” she heard him curse under his breath as he stalked out of the kitchen without another word or a look.

***

He’d lost it.

Portia had called him a liar, and she’d been right. But he hadn’t wanted to see the truth. So he’d punished her for finding him out, and punished himself even more. Because knowing what it would be like with her, yet having to make sure it never happened was going to kill him. It was as certain as a stake through his heart.

A second longer of feeling her legs around him, of smelling her arousal and tasting her hot lips, and he would have torn her clothes to shreds with his claws and fucked her against the cold steel of the refrigerator, not caring that she was a virgin who needed gentle, not rough.

Using his shirt sleeve, Zane wiped the sweat off his forehead. Shit! What the fuck was he going to do now? He couldn’t continue this assignment. Every second in Portia’s company would be torture. And what if she provoked him again? Would he simply take what he craved? And once she realized how savage he was, would she change her mind? By then, it would be too late. He’d take it anyway—take what he considered his.

He should never have bitten her lip and tasted her blood. That one drop had been enough to make his vampire side yearn for something he didn’t dare claim: a woman of his own. It wasn’t right. How could he expect to love and be loved when he lived only for hate and revenge?

He wasn’t done with revenge yet. Justice still required one more kill, one more name to be added to the list of those who were responsible for so much misery, so much death, and for robbing him of the life he never got to live. He couldn’t give up now; he was too close.

If he took Portia and gave into her, she would see deep into him, and she would hate him, because he’d feared for a while now that he’d become as bad as the men he’d been chasing. If she saw it, it would be confirmation. He couldn’t allow it. Nobody should see what lurked inside him, because he couldn’t face it himself.

Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Ding Dong!

The door bell rang more urgently, reminding Zane why he’d rushed out of the kitchen. He straightened and cleared his throat. Shit, he still had her taste on his tongue, and his cock pressed hard and heavy against his zipper, still expecting release. In vain.

Through the spy hole in the door, he identified Thomas and Eddie. What the fuck did they want from him now? He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with his colleagues now, particularly not with the ever cheerful young Eddie who was Amaury’s brother-in-law. Neither did he have the stomach for Thomas, the ever perceptive mentor who’d never done a wrong thing in his life—well, maybe just once when he’d hooked up with Milo, his lover who’d later betrayed him.

“Listen, Zane,” Thomas suddenly said from behind her door, “we know you’re standing right there, so open the damn door.”

There were times when Zane hated the enhanced senses every vampire possessed. Tonight was one of those times.

He opened the door and moved aside, hoping that the smell of the old house would distract his colleagues from the scent of Portia that was all over his body and his clothes. But the moment Thomas walked in, wearing, as always, his biker duds, consisting of leather and more leather, the flaring of his nostrils and narrowing of his eyes were indication enough that he had noticed something. Figured.

As Eddie followed Thomas and closed the door behind them, Zane glared at Thomas, silently daring him to make a nasty comment. Thomas’ age and experience won out over the impulse that sat clearly on his lips. Now all that had to happen was for Portia to stay out of the way and remain in the kitchen, so Thomas would know only that Zane wore the smell of a woman, not that it was the scent of the charge he was guarding.

“What’s up?” Zane kept his jaw tight.

“Hey, Zane,” Eddie greeted him and looked around.

Thomas merely nodded. “I’m here to relieve you.”

Relieve him? Shit! How could they already know what he’d done, how he’d violated Scanguards’ code of ethics?

Thomas inclined his head toward Eddie. “Eddie will take you to Drake for your appointment.”

Appointment? Zane’s gaze snapped to Eddie, then back to Thomas. His heartbeat kicked up. “I’d know if I had an appointment with that quack!” That about summed up what he thought of the shrink who appeared to be a favorite among Scanguards staff.

“Samson figured that would be your reaction, so he decided not—”

“He decided? Samson doesn’t get to decide my life!”

“You wanna keep working for Scanguards, you follow his rules.”

Zane’s gums itched for a bite. “So that’s how it’s gonna be? And you two, you’re playing his messenger boys because he doesn’t have the guts to tell me himself?” He thrust his chin up in challenge, daring Thomas to give him a reason to launch his fists into his colleague’s too-pretty face.

Thomas moved in vampire speed to go face to face with Zane. “Be very careful, my friend, what you say about Samson. He’s been my friend for a very long time, far longer than either of us has known you. If I decide to repeat our little chat to him, you’re not one of us anymore. Does that get through your thick skull?”

“What’s going on here? Who are these people, Zane?” Portia’s voice came from behind him.

Shit, his luck had just turned.

Zane moved his head, seeing her approach with caution. “Colleagues,” he pressed out.

“Oh, well then …” She gave Thomas and Eddie a warm smile.

Had she ever smiled at him like that? He couldn’t recall. The realization hit him like somebody was driving a stake through his chest: Portia didn’t like him at all, otherwise why wouldn’t she smile at him the way she smiled at Thomas and Eddie now?

When Eddie walked over to her and shook her hand, Zane clenched his fists. He was touching her! The tips of his fangs descended as he fought the urge to separate their hands.

“I’m Eddie. You must be Portia.”

From the corner of his eye, Zane noticed Thomas shake his head in stunned disbelief.

“Yes, hi Eddie.”

Zane snapped his head back to Thomas who still hadn’t moved and stood only inches from him.

“You little shit,” Thomas hissed so low, only Zane could hear it. “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”

Zane blinked and dropped his voice to the same level. Thomas had connected the scent on him with that of Portia. “Why don’t you go fuck Eddie and leave me the hell alone!”

Thomas’ face dropped, shock rolling off his features. Zane knew the blow was low, but somebody had to finally say it. Maybe if Thomas wasn’t frustrated with his own situation, he wouldn’t stick his head into things that didn’t concern him.

“You fucking asshole. You’re going to see Dr. Drake now, no protests, or I’ll report this to Samson and your gig is up.”

The sternness in Thomas’ voice and face was undeniable. It left Zane no choice but to give into blackmail. Without a word to Thomas, he turned fully and motioned to Eddie. “Eddie, we’re leaving. Now.”

“Where are you going?” Portia’s tone had accusation written all over it. Her smile had disappeared.

Before he could find the right words, Thomas spoke up. “Zane has a prior engagement. I’ll be his relief for the next couple of hours.” He went to Portia and extended his hand. “I’m Thomas. Pleasure meeting you.”

Zane stalked to the door, Eddie on his heels.

“You can take my bike,” Thomas called after him, but Zane didn’t bother replying.

“Asshole,” he muttered under his breath.

Chapter Thirteen

Cool night air greeted him as he walked into the driveway. Zane halted for a moment for Eddie to catch up with him. Still seething about Thomas’ blackmail, he glanced around and noticed Eddie’s motorcycle parked near the gate. He craned his neck.

“Where is Thomas’ Ducati?”

“He didn’t take his Ducati today. He brought the BMW,” Eddie replied and sauntered past him.

Zane followed. “I didn’t know he had a BMW.”

“That’s because he just only finished restoring it. It’s an antique.”

Zane reached Eddie’s bike and rounded it. Behind Eddie’s Kawasaki was a smaller motorcycle. Zane jerked to a halt, his heart stopping in the same instant.

“It’s an R6, a 1937 model,” Zane echoed with the remaining breath in his lungs before his vocal cords ceased working.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thomas is quite proud of it. Paid a high price for it. But he did a great job, don’t you think so?”

Eddie’s words faded in the background while Zane’s eyes took in the features of the bike he remembered well. It was all black and chrome, just like the one he’d had back then; the R6 that had belonged to him when he’d still been Zacharias, when he still had hair and a promising future ahead of him.

Even now, he could feel the wind ruffling his hair as he rode through the streets of Munich.