Claim Me (Body Scenes 4)

She spared a glance at the monitor just as one very strong profile came into view above Toliver’s shoulder, because the uninvited guest towered over the chief of security.

Riveted, though she couldn’t explain why, Jane watched as the man’s chin lifted a hair—such a slight move, it probably wasn’t even noticeable to the human eye—and he sniffed the air. Then his head turned sharply so he stared directly into the security camera at the entrance of the club, as though he knew she were watching him. He seemed to look right at her, like they were standing in the same room together, mere inches from each other, rather than separated by an entire floor.

A peculiar warmth ribboned through Jane at the sight of the ruggedly handsome man downstairs. He had vibrant blue eyes framed by long, brown lashes. His sandy hair was crazily mussed, as though he’d just left the bed of a woman who’d enjoyed plowing her fingers through it as he’d thrust into her. His jaw, lined with a day or two of stubble, was of the square, David Beckham variety, with a small cleft in the chin. He had sculpted cheekbones and a slightly crooked nose that made her think he’d taken a few punches over the years.

And again…those eyes. They were stunning. Captivating. Hypnotic. Impossible to look away from.

“Jane?” Drake prompted at the same time Toliver, still on the line, asked, “Miss Van Kamp?”

“Um…” Jane couldn’t think clearly. She continued to stare at the flat screen like they were actually gazing directly into each other’s eyes. And then the warmth that seeped through her funneled into the heart of her until a glowing, searing ball of heat pulsed and radiated deep in her pussy, igniting myriad erotic sensations more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced with Drake or Shana.

Drake didn’t prompt her a second time. He knew what, to some extent, was happening to her because she’d told him about her rare vampire gift. She possessed the ability to connect with others’ souls, whether they were immortal or not. She could literally tap into the essence of them and discover their desires and intentions and fears. It was a painful gift sometimes, when she encountered a pure, yet damaged soul, as she had with Shana. But this time…all she felt was strength and virility and passion. Along with an intense hunger that matched her own.

She was so taken aback by her encounter with a kindred spirit—and one who was a werewolf, of all creatures—that she wasn’t at all prepared for what happened next. Not that anyone could have been prepared for what happened next.

As the shifter continued to stare at her through the camera, the fireball deep in her cunt expanded until it burst and heat shot out in all directions, stealing her breath. Her heart leapt into her throat and her pulse skyrocketed. A deliciously wicked shiver shot through her body, causing the phone to slip from her fingers. The receiver would have hit the floor had Drake not quickly snatched it as it fell.

His movements barely registered in her mind, and when he spoke to Toliver, it sounded as though he were miles away.

“We’ll be right down,” he said before disconnecting the call.

Jane’s hands flew to her stomach as it fluttered wildly, like thousands of butterflies had suddenly taken to flight. Her nipples tightened behind the structured bodice of the black, strapless minidress she wore and her clit tingled. The pulsing and throbbing in her pussy intensified to an almost unbearable degree, making carnal cravings spring to mind.

She felt lightheaded and hazy, but when Drake wrapped a steadying hand around her arm because she swayed on her high heels, she snapped out of the trance.

And instantly realized what the shifter had done to her.

“Oh, no you didn’t!” she screamed at the monitor—or rather, the man whose ruggedly handsome visage filled it. “You did not just imprint on me!”

Then she was out the door. She heard Drake right behind her as she flew down the hall, bypassed the elevator and hit the stairs, her feet barely touching the marble floor.

As she reached the door to the backstage area of the club, Drake called out, “Jane! The humans!”

She forced herself to stop before she barreled through the door and scared the living hell out of everyone backstage. Slowing her movements to the pace of an agitated mortal, she pushed open the heavy door, not giving the guard placed there a second thought. She stalked through the backstage, dodging the models in their various states of undress and paint jobs, which typically fascinated her. Not so tonight. She was furious. The anger welling within her pushed out some of the heat, though not all of it. Not nearly enough of it. Her skin tingled and her nipples were still impossibly hard.

All the human emotions and sensations she’d experienced with Sean before she’d become a vampire—and which had transcended after the change, until the day Sean died—suddenly burned within her. They were bright and vibrant and so real, she almost felt human again.

That aside, she was livid. The rage inside her trumped the sensuality that was scorching hot and so tempting to give in to. But Jane had spent the past fifty years resisting temptation. She could override the desire blazing through her if she concentrated instead on her fury.

She wound her way through the crowd in the club, past the packed dance floor and the ridiculously expensive tables and chairs in the center of the room, the furniture positioned beneath even pricier chandeliers.

Drake was hot on her heels, but he didn’t reach for her and try to reason with her. Not that there’d be any reasoning with her. There was absolutely no rationale to pacify a vampire when she’d been imprinted on by a werewolf.

She gently—though not exactly patiently—pushed her way through the throng gathered close to the entrance and stepped around Toliver, who skillfully kept the uninvited guests at bay as they awaited Jane and Drake’s arrival.

Moving in without hesitation, she got right up close and personal with the shifter whose glowing blue eyes would likely be forever engrained on her brain. And smacked him hard across his smug face.

“Jane!”

Drake’s arm wrapped around her waist in the next instant and he hauled her effortlessly against his body, lifting her slightly off the ground. Then he whipped her behind his back, placing himself between her and her kindred spirit before he released her. As if the werewolf would retaliate. Unlikely, given the bastard had imprinted on her. If anything, he might lunge at Drake for separating them. For being her protector when that was now the job of the shifter who’d claimed her.

Rather than lunging, said shifter let out a low chuckle that made that fireball in her pussy burn bright again. A flicker of heat tickled her clit at the sound.

In a deep, sensuous tone that sent flames dancing along her skin, he said, “What a spitfire.”

“You son of a bitch!” she said from behind Drake, her fists clenching at her sides.

Another soft, arousing chuckle followed and her knees practically knocked together.