"Well, don't you clean up good." Cambridge gave Kate the once-over two times, his oddly thick lips curling into a grin.
"I wouldn't have recognized you without those eyes of yours.
Twin bal s of desperation and misery, I always cal ed them, yes?"
Just seconds before Kate had entered the bathroom, the Eyes' number-one strangest member had final y noticed her, but had taken off in the opposite direction instead of trying to slip past Nicholas.
As she'd stood inside the empty bathroom, she'd figured the meeting wasn't going to happen-she was even trying to come up with a way to get to him with Nicholas around, maybe at the bar. Then, across from the marble stal s, several squares of brick wal had popped forward and Cambridge had come crawling through as though breaking and entering into a women's bathroom registered zero on the crime meter.
And to him, it probably did.
Cambridge continued to look her over as her hip pressed into the sink. "You know, if you ever consider sel ing that lovely flesh, kitten, I would guarantee a sizable payday."
Kate didn't need this. "I'm a little tight for time here, Cambridge."
"Aren't we all." His eyes narrowed, as did his smile.
"What do you need?"
"Information about getting lost," she said. "Permanently."
"Are we talking you or a . . . friend?" He chuckled, his strange blue eyes seeing only dol ar signs as he watched her. "I'd hate to see you sent up back to Mondrar."
"Look, Cambridge, I heard something when I was on the inside, about a place, underground, where a veana or a paven could go, disappear for good." She leveled him with her gaze. "I need to know if that place is real."
His smile faded. "I may know of a place. But why should I assist you, kitten? I believe I'm mad at you. I've heard you are tel ing some very nasty people that I sel balas flesh."
"I'm sorry." She shrugged. What else could she do, say?
"It was a shitty thing to do. I was caught in the middle of something-"
"I don't want your apologies," he said, cutting her off. "I want money." He rubbed his thumb and first two fingers together. "For the pinch to my rep and for safe passage to Mondalagua."
"Mondalagua," she repeated.
"The world of water. The place you seek. Your underground safe haven."
Her breath caught in her throat. "What's the price?" Al she had was what her mother had left her when she'd died, just a few thousand.
"Shit." He looked behind her, snarled. "Not now."
Glancing over her shoulder, Kate saw two females walk in, head straight for the toilets.
"Go. Get out of here," she hissed, turning around.
But Cambridge was already gone, the brick wal she'd seen him enter from, now solid and seemingly untouched.
Nicholas had never been inside a ladies' room before and he certainly didn't want to start now. No doubt it was painted a color that would make his eyes bleed and had baskets of scented shit al over the counters.
But the veana had been gone too long. Could be that something was wrong, or maybe she was just messing with him.
She liked to do that.
Two females, human, both blond, blue dress and black dress respectively, real jumpy about the eyes, were coming out of the bathroom just as he was closing in.
They came to a cartoon-style stop in front of him and presented him with matching grins.
"Lookie here, Nan," Blue Dress said, one hand reaching for Nicholas's shoulder. "Someone we need to get to know better."
"Yes, indeed," Black Dress said, her fingers playing at the space between her nose and her upper lip as she checked him out. "Should we fol ow you back in there, babe? Play a little two against one?" She grinned. "There's a lock on the bathroom door."
Good to know. "Maybe some other time."
He tried to walk past them, but Blue Dress got al bel igerent and started yanking at his coat. "You don't want to go in there alone, Romeo. Trust me. There's a chick in there talking to herself about escaping or something."
Nicholas stil ed. Talking to herself? His skin began to vibrate.
"Come on, lover."
"Excuse me," Nicholas uttered, trying to pass.
"We're not letting you go," Blue Dress said, laughing and tugging at his arm.
A low growl rumbled in Nicholas's chest and he whirled on them. "I don't play with coked-out humans unless I'm paid. Very, very well." Nostrils flaring, he flashed his fangs al nice and deadly in the club's pale blue light.
The women's eyes grew dinner-plate wide and they backed off real slow; then, as soon as they were ten feet clear of him, took off running, arm in arm back toward the dance floor. Normally he didn't show his cards like that, but those two were so juiced up they wouldn't believe what they'd seen anyway-and neither would anyone else they decided to talk to tonight.
Without another thought, he busted through the door of the bathroom like a bul charging a cape. When he was over the threshold, he let it swing back into place and locked it nice and secure. It was a decent-sized room, two sinks and a couple of fancy marble stal s. He sniffed the air and came up with the scent of a female he recognized, many he didn't, and one putrid stink of a male.
He snorted. "Whoever was in here with you wears cologne made from a donkey's ass."
Kate, who was standing in front of the mirror, reapplying her lipstick, glanced over at him. "I suppose it's inane to point out that this is a ladies' room," she said, "and you are no lady."
He walked up to her, stood behind her so that both of their reflections were echoed in the mirror. Outside the room, the slamming of a bass-heavy dance mix could stil be heard, while inside, the lights above them were agreeably dim.
Was that scent of a male someone she'd been talking to? Meeting? Couldn't be. Nicholas would've seen him go in and come out.
Kate lifted one dark blond brow. "What?"
"I can't trust you," he said softly.
"Hey, I am where I said I'd be." She seemed calm enough, but he saw her chest hitch as it rose and fel with each breath.
He leaned in and kissed the spot between her neck and her shoulder blade. Just one soft, nothing of a kiss and yet it made his entire body go up in flames. "I can't trust you,"
he said again, trying to control himself even as his cock grew harder under his fly, "and you certainly can't trust me."
Her eyes locked with his then, and she nodded. "At least you can admit that. I hate pretending."
His hands stole around her waist. Goddamn, she felt good, perfect against him-like no one ever had. "Don't you think I know you want out?"
Her jaw tightened, but she didn't deny it.
"To run for the freedom you've lost?" he continued, pul ing her back against him so she could feel how hard he was-and that it was al about her.
"I deserve to have freedom," she said, her breath quickening.
"You do."
"But you need me."
His hands drifted up, over the silk bandage material of her dress, over her ribs. "Only for a short time," he whispered as he eased down the bodice and fil ed his hands with her breasts. "After that, you're free."
She sucked in air, then released on a soft moan.
"As long as you can't stop me, or find me, or . . ." she moaned as he squeezed her breasts gently, as she watched her nipples rise and jut out and beg to be pinched.
"Catch you."
Kate arched her body, pushed her breasts deeper into his hold, and Nicholas released them, let them gently bob back down against her ribs.
"Don't stop," she hissed.
He grinned, bringing his fingers to her nipples and flicking them lightly. "I haven't even started."
"Good," she said, dropping her head to his shoulder and closing her eyes.
"No, Kate," he said. "Don't look away. Watch how your sweet tits respond to being touched, and stroked, and pinched."
She turned her head back, and Nicholas watched her in the mirror as she stared heavy-lidded, mouth open at his hands on her breasts, his fingers squeezing her nipples, teasing the very ends of each bud until they were pebble hard and deep pink.
She lifted her arms over her head, draped them across his shoulders, giving him more access. And he took it. He flicked her nipples back and forth so lightly they barely moved, but so quickly and deliberately that her back arched and her breathing grew ragged.
"How wet does this make you, Kate?" he whispered into the cover of her ear.
"Feell," she uttered, her back arching farther, her ass pressing into his straining cock.
On a growl, he grabbed hold of her waist and spun her to face him. Instantly, her arms dropped around his neck and Nicholas leaned in and kissed her hard and brazen without any thought to being gentle. As her breasts pressed against his chest, his mouth took her, his tongue sliding deep just as his cock wanted to slide into her pussy.
She tasted like the sweetest blood, the most fragrant nectar, and if he could spend a lifetime suckling at her tongue, her lips, her nipples, her clit-he would.
And he'd pay for it if he had to!
He tore his mouth from her and dipped his head. He needed to taste her, know what it felt like to have her life force between his teeth. He took her nipple into his mouth, circled the hot, hard bud, looking for nourishment. Suckling her deep, he heard her moan again above him, but this time it was louder, desperate.
He needed to feel what she felt-to know how wet she was. How warm. As he continued to feast on her nipple, pul ing it, rasping it gently with the tips of his fangs, he ran his hand up her thigh, under her dress until he reached silk.
Fuck.
Soaking wet. And hot as the sun.
Hunger roared through him like a ravenous animal with prey in sight. In seconds, he was dropping to his knees and pul ing her dress to her hips. He wanted shelter. He wanted his tongue inside her cunt, warm and wet and safe. He wanted to feed from her and be saved from a life of loneliness and pain and memories.
She parted her legs for him-long pale legs that shook just a little in anticipation. He eased her dress up a little higher, left it at her waist, then hooked his thumbs under the thin strips of silk underwear and pulled them down, al the way to her ankles.
Her scent assaulted him at once. The sweetest, most delectable, entirely addictive scent he'd ever encountered.
It screamed at him, "Take me, drink from me and you wil be reborn."
For a moment, he just sat there and stared, his breath causing her pale hair to move a fraction. Above him he heard her heavy breathing as she watched him take in every inch of her labia. Did she know how beautiful she was? How kissable her lips were? So pink and shiny and ready for him.
He put his hands on her knees and moved slowly up her thighs, enjoying the heat of her skin and the way her muscles bunched and shook beneath his palms. Up his hands raked until his thumbs dipped into her crease, spreading her wide for him.
And then he put his mouth on her and went to heaven.
Goddamn, her scent, her taste, it had ruined him forever for anything else. Savoring her, he ran his tongue over her inner lips, slowly, so slowly until she hissed and moaned and shook above him.
When he found her clit, dipped his tongue inside the little hood that housed the hot, tight bud, he drew it into his mouth.
Kate cried out and gasped for air.
Keeping her open, stretched, Nicholas continued to suckle, pul ing the hard nub inside as he flicked it gently with his tongue.
"Oh God," she moaned. "Nicholas, please."
Yes, veana , he mused. Yes, you will come hard and long and slippery against my mouth.
He released her clit and slid his tongue inside her. "Shit,"
she hissed, widening her legs, her hands diving into his hair, her fingers gripping his skull. "Oh God . . ."
Her movements made him crazy, made his cock strain to get out, get free-get inside her and fuck until they were both on the verge of insanity.
She bucked against him, his mouth and his tongue, driving him in deeper. And then insanity did hit.
Hunger.
Starvation.
Greedy lust like he'd never known.
Her blood should not be his, never be inside him, and yet. . .
He struck gently, scoring her, bracketing her lovely clit with his fangs.
She cried out. Not in pain, but in deep, unabashed pleasure. "Yes, Nicholas. Please. Deeper. God, feed from me. Don't ever stop!"
He pulled, suckled, took from her, and as her sweet blood flowed into him, as it ran down his throat and made his cock heavy and hungry, he licked her. He suckled and swirled his tongue around the throbbing clit that grew darker and thicker as she approached her climax.
Kate had never felt such pleasure, such freedom from herself and her thoughts and fears. It was like being lost in a world of delicious, happy safety and love, and she never wanted to come out, come down.
She just wanted to come.
And as Nicholas gripped her hips, his tongue moving in quick feathery strokes across her tender clit, and as he drank from her, she felt the heat inside her spread.
She was his, and her body was his to command.
Her hands had satisfied her in the past, but it was nothing to this-to Nicholas Roman-nothing to his touch, his suckle, the way he consumed her whole.
"Take it all," she cried, her fingers pressing into his scalp, pul ing him closer. "My blood and my body."
Nicholas growled like a wild animal, a beast, deep in his throat, and Kate loved it, wanted to drown in that sound as she bucked and moaned, fisted his hair and surrendered herself.
As the heat spread farther and grew inside her, Nicholas quickened his strokes. Her breath caught in her throat, her mind fil ed only with pleasure, she cried out. Orgasm hit like a tidal wave of feeling, blinding heat and magnificent pleasure washing over her, washing her clean. She had been taken. Her first and only. And as she bucked gently against him, keeping the pace with her waning orgasm, she wished sentimental y that he would be her last and forever.
She felt him slip out of her, his fangs retracting, and the loss was palpable. She was virgini, untouched by anyone but herself for al these twenty-five years, and the connection she'd just experienced with this paven made her wish not only for his care, but for his body on hers, his thick cock easing deep into the channels of her cunt.
As she stood there, Nicholas's head resting on her bel y as they both tried to catch their breath, Kate looked at herself in the mirror opposite them. She saw her fingers threaded in his black hair, her arms stil taut with tension, her face flushed with the aftermath of climax, and her bare breasts moving with her chest as she breathed in and out.
And she saw a smal bruise on the curve just above her right nipple, on the spot where she had a freckle-a freckle she'd had since birth. She grinned. How had that happened? she wondered. Was it when his hands had stolen around her, yanked down the top of her dress and squeezed her nipples until she cried out? Had he been so rough?
Her grin widened. She liked rough.
His rough.
But her grin began to fade as over the course of a moment or two the bruise did not. Purebloods couldn't hold a bruise for longer than a few seconds-and this had been far longer than that. In fact, his playful tugs on her nipples had been ages ago.
Nicholas stil had his head resting against her bel y, no doubt contemplating the ramifications of what they'd done, what they'd al owed to happen.
And now so was she.
Screw the mirror. She glanced down at her skin, at the bruise that wasn't real y a bruise at all. What . . . It was more of a faded shape. Curves to it.
She squinted. It was something she'd seen before. A sign or a symbol-
It hit her like a basebal bat to the skul and she shifted her gaze from her skin to his-down to the strong, intel igent, devilish face of the paven who had just granted her the climax of her life.
Her skin started to bristle and her head felt heavy, dizzy, like it wanted to blow up. There within the Breeding Male circle on his cheek was a faded shape.
The lower curve of a lip.
Her head came up, and she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Gone was the flushed, happy face of a veana who had just connected with someone for the first time in her life. Those brown eyes of hers were fil ed with shock, horror, and disbelief. But there it was, just above her right nipple.
The pouty double curve of an upper lip.
It al made sense, she thought breathlessly-the undeniable attraction they both shared, the hunger for his blood.
Nicholas Roman wasn't just some random male she found irresistible.
He was her other half.
Her true mate.