Blood Ties (29 page)

“Alright, but promise me you will be good.”

“Uh huh.” I wondered what “good” meant in his book.

He turned off the TV and crawled into bed with me. I rested my head on his shoulder. I ran my hand across his smooth chest. I heard a soft intake of breath. I languorously drew my fingers down across his abdomen to the small line of hair that disappeared into his jeans. He moaned and grabbed my wrist. “Liz, behave. I don’t want to chance losing control around you again. I’ve done enough of that over the last few days.”

I frowned and exhaled in frustration. Couldn’t he just lose a tiny bit of control
now, in bed with me? “You know you drive me crazy.”

He began to silently shake with laughter. “Liz?”

“Yes, Michael,” I said, dreamily staring at his hard, dime sized nipple, just slightly darker than his skin, just a few inches from my face.

“I love you.” He laughed softly. “Go to sleep.”

My body went limp and my head rolled back on his shoulder. Annoying as hell.

There was an explosion and screams off in the distance. I was on my back. I couldn’t see. There was something warm and wet in my eyes. I tried to roll over but couldn’t move or feel anything. A voice chuckled. “Well, now. What do we have here?” I screamed as a hand wrapped around my throat and lifted me off the ground to hold me dangling in the air.

“Liz, wake up!”

I found myself staring up into Michael’s frightened eyes. He held my wrists above my head.

“Breathe.”

It took me a moment to realize there wasn’t a hand around my throat. I took in one breath and another. My heart felt
as if it wanted to jump out of my chest.

“You’re safe with me. Calm yourself.”

I continued to stare into his face, listening to my laborious breaths, feeling my heart slow.

“You were dreaming.”

It was only a dream. I was here, safe with Michael.

“Liz, my love, no more nightmares tonight. Sleep, knowing you are safe in my arms.”

Chapter 18

A truck roared to life. The sound of its engine faded as it drove off, its wheels crunching on gravel. Several more followed like a caravan and their rough, grating vibrations faded. There was an empty silence, as if the morning scrambled to right itself from the jarring wake-up call. Slowly and tentatively, a few sparrows began chirping.

I was sunny-side down on the bed with my face partially covered by a pillow, my mouth open and the fitted sheet under my cheek wet with drool. If I had to guess – I’d been doing more than slobbering all over the sheets. The pillow disappeared. “Good morning sleepy head,” said a deep masculine voice. A cool kiss planted itself on the back on my neck.

Waking up in a motel room was comfortably familiar; it was as if I
were a kid again on one my family vacations. Every summer vacation had consisted of days crammed in the backseat of a car with my three sisters, sweating next to each other, jostling for more room, trying not to kill each other. The only thing that alleviated the hours of hell was a jaunt at a sightseeing stop and a night in a motel with a pool. The pool was our vacation. It was what kept us from beating each other up. And here I was, brought abruptly back to reality by a vampire lying next to me in a cheesy motel room.

There was another kiss on the back of my neck. “Uh huh,” I replied. I was afraid to move. I knew it was going to hurt. A pale hand appeared in front of my face, palm open with four Ibuprofen. I slowly moved my stiff arm to take the pills. I stuck them in my mouth searching for enough saliva for a dry swallow. A glass of water appeared like magic and I raised myself up on my hands with a hisses and groans. I balanced on one, took the glass and washed down the pills. The glass disappeared and I lay back down, sneaking in a side
swipe of my mouth on the back of my arm to remove any evidence of what had dried on the side of my face. I hurt everywhere. The cuts on my arm burned.

“I suppose you didn’t see the license plate of th
at semi that ran over me?” I mumbled into the bed.

Michael chuckled and then gently rolled me on top of him.

“Ow ... ow …,” I protested. Then I was aware of his hips under mine. The sudden flood of warmth between my legs just begged me to squirm on top him. Who cared about the pain in every muscle and joint in my body.

He took in a sharp breath
.

Geesh, he could probably smell
how I wanted to rip off his clothes, and mine with them.

“You gave me quite a scare last night.”

“Last night?”

“Don’t you remember?”

All I remembered was trying to seduce him before he forced me to sleep with that irritating little trick of his.

“What’d I do?” God, I hope it wasn’t my snoring. My sisters used to tease me about it mercilessly. After several rounds of arm-twisting, they finally confessed it was more like a soft purr than the chainsaw
that had cursed my dad. I always wondered if they’d just caved.

He circled the hair on the side of my face with his hand and brushed it back over my shoulder. “You had a nightmare,” he said.

“Was it bad?” I shifted to look up into his face and decided I wouldn’t be doing that again, it hurt too much.

“Bad enough
.”

“Sorry.” I
dropped my head back down to his chest, unhappy that he’d put on a t-shirt and happy it had only been one of my nightmares, which was ridiculous if you thought about it. But again, nightmare – snoring? In my book, they were almost a tie.

“Now what would you have to be sorry about?”

I closed my eyes and shifted my hips against his. Somebody kill me.

“Do you want me to ask you to remember it?”

“Hell no,” I said. I sucked in some saliva and swallowed. I wasn’t going to drool on his chest. A sure romance killer there. “I only want to remember the good ones. Besides, I’m in the best dream of my life right now, being here with you.” I felt his small laugh underneath me.

“What time is it?”

“Five a.m. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, are you?”

“No.”

“Good thing.”

“I’ll call for room delivery. Any thoughts on what you’d like?”

“How about some eggs, sunny side up, wheat toast and orange juice?”

“Your wish is my command.”

I grinned. “Really?”
I said teasingly. He chuckled.

In excruciating pain, I rolled off him and hobbled to the bathroom like an old woman, wishing there was a hot Jacuzzi
. I unwrapped my bandage and turned on the shower. I stood in the bathtub, letting the heat work through the knots in my back. By the way it ached I knew I had a huge bruise from where he had slammed me against the chair. Besides the cuts on my arm, I had a few bruises here and there, some worse than others. Around my wrists were abrasions from when they’d tied me up in the van.

The shower water slowly turned to ice. I turned around and reached out to adjust the temperature.

I tore at the hand that held my throat. I was pinned against a body and something lapped at the wet warmth that blanketed my face, moaning. I knew it was blood … my blood. I was so cold, so very cold.

“Shush now, you’re safe,” a voice repeated, gently rocking me as I screamed into a hand clamped over my mouth. “Liz, it’s alright, you’re safe.”

Michael removed his hand and I broke out into hysterical sobs. He continued to rock me in his arms as I told him what I had seen. As he listened, a mask slid over his face.

I blinked up at him through my tears.
He said nothing, then curled me into his arms.

He’d understood before I had. My dreams were of the past and of the future – all that had happened and all that will happen.

I heard him whisper something as he kissed my tears away. “All better?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said shakily, no longer afraid.

I felt a cool breeze on my skin and looked down. I was naked and cradled on his lap. He’d pulled me out of the shower.

Embarrassment flushed through me and I tried to cover myself. He gently pulled my hands away. He looked at me, tracing my lips with his finger. Warmth flooded through my core. His eyes slowly darkened, the soft brown replaced with chocolate brown, then with a smoldering black as his pupils expanded. His heavy scent stroked against my bare skin, caressing it. “You are beautiful,” he whispered as he bent down and explored my mouth with his tongue. I clutched at his wet t-shirt in growing desperation.

He moved his lips down across my throat, lingering there, his rough breaths trembling against my skin. His lips burned as if they were on fire and my muscles suddenly clenched down hard between my legs. I arched my neck offering myself to him. I couldn’t help it. I wanted his kisses to cover my body, to burn every inch. I began to writhe and cried out when he ran his fingers down the side of my breast, across my abdomen to the inside of my thighs. I was past caring if I was in any danger. I didn’t care about anything except the need to have him burn me with his touch.

The next second I found myself on the bed, wrapped in sheets lying next to him, panting like a banshee. He sat on the edge bent over, his head in his hands, breathing hard. I reached out and laid my hand on his back, not saying anything. He shuddered.

He spoke in a rough voice, “Breakfast is here. You’ll have to get it. Keep your hair hidden.”

I rolled off the bed, careful to keep myself wrapped in the sheets. He handed me some
money without meeting my gaze then went into the bathroom.

I rewrapped
myself in the sheet, looking in the mirror over the dresser to make sure there wasn’t the slightest bit of hair showing.

There
was a knock at the door. “Room service.”

“Just a minute.”

I unlocked the door and opened it. A boy held a tray with a round metal cover over a plate. A large plastic bag dangled from one of his wrists. I asked him to set the tray down on the round table next to the window. He gave a brief thanks for the generous tip and left.

I shut the door behind him. Michael came back into the room, composed, but with a morose, brooding look. I ignored him and opened up the plastic bag, pulling out its contents. There were a few pieces of fruit, a carton of orange juice, two liters of water, a newspaper, a woman’s magazine and a deck of playing cards.

He spoke in a detached voice, “Since you’re going to be cooped up with me for a couple days, I thought it would be a good idea if we kept ourselves occupied. I need to focus on something other than seducing you.”

I knew what he was really thinking. “Focused on something other than killing you.”

I sighed wistfully. “Well, don’t let me stop you. You’re doing a pretty good job of it. I wouldn’t mind, really, at all.”

He gave me a weak smile. “Go get dressed before I take you up on your offer.”

“Ooohhh … you tease,” I said as I headed off to the bathroom to change. If I were him, I don’t think I would have any self-control, either way.

When I got back, he’d taken the cover o
ff the dish and was standing there looking down at it with a disgusted look on his face.

“You don’t have to eat it.”

I sat down in the chair and pulled it towards me. I was starving. I gave the two eggs a light dusting of salt and pepper then picked up my fork. I chopped it up into a gooey mess then started sopping it up with the toast.

Michael watched me, his face twisted.

I laughed and almost spewed egg through my nose.

He lifted one side of his mouth in a snarl. “That smells as bad as it looks.”

I took a bite and his gaze followed the heavily laden toast as it rose from the plate and into my mouth. His face had slowly scrunched up into an “ew gross” look. I almost spewed again. I swallowed then burst out laughing.

Irritated, he moved to the bed farthest away and turned on the TV. It looked
as if he had stopped breathing. Being the considerate person who I am, when I was finished I placed my empty plate outside the door and brushed my teeth. He’d already laid out the cards when I came back.

***

Dinner had come and gone. I was busy with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubbie, my all-time favorite, sitting next to him on the bed, absent-mindedly licking ice cream from my spoon.

He groaned. “Stop that.”

“What?”

“Doing that with the ice cream.”

“Why, is it ewy gross?”

“No, it’s driving me crazy.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Like how?”

He frowned. “In a bad way.”

“In a very, very bad way?”

“Not that bad.”

“Isn’t that a good way, then?”