He chuckles and says, “I don’t get Liv’s Scotch obsession. I mean how many bottles do you need in one house anyway?”
“A lot around here,” she says as she laughs. “Now that is gross. I would take Bourbon over Scotch any day.”
“Me too,” he says again. This is weird. She has been a part of their “family” for a few weeks now and this is the first time he has ever really spoken to her. It is certainly the only time he has ever been alone with her, not counting the time she came on to him back in L.A. and Liv kicked her ass. “How are you doing now?” he asks her as he gets more water.
“Better,” she says and takes the glass from him. “It definitely helps to be able to go out in the daytime.” She holds her left wrist up and he nods. “And now that Devon lets me feed straight from humans, that also helps a lot.”
“Yeah. That was a harsh judgment by our Queen,” Cole says lightly, as he doesn’t want her to think he is badmouthing his wife.
“I deserved it,” she says quietly, and they stand in silence for a few moments, pondering her suicidal actions.
“It is also helping now that Devon is…” she stops and looks away.
“Devon is what?” Cole prompts.
“Paying me some attention,” she says quietly.
“Oh,” Cole says. He knows Liv is upset by this development, but it had to happen. Devon isn’t the kind of guy to let her devolve into one of those Rogue creatures.
“You must really miss her when she isn’t here. I know I would die without Devon. I don’t know how you stand it,” she adds suddenly.
He turns from her so she can’t see his sad expression. “It’s hard. Really hard. Especially now when she is supposed to be here, and she isn’t. There were some days in Toronto that I thought I would die,” he admits, although he has no idea why. It sounds overly dramatic, but it is the truth. Some days he never even thought he would make it out of bed.
“I can imagine,” she says softly. “Have you told her how you feel?”
He shrugs and turns back to her and says, “Not really. I don’t want her to be worried or feel like she has to fix it.”
“She likes to fix things,” Jess says. “It’s like her thing. Do you think it’s because she is a mad control freak?”
“Like her sire?” Cole snorts.
“Exactly,” she says with a laugh. “You should tell her. Maybe it will stop her from…you know.” She waves her hand about and he frowns.
“What?” he asks her.
“You know…doing what she does,” she says, and he stares at her. She gulps, realizing that she has stepped where she shouldn’t be stepping. “Sorry,” she mutters. “It’s none of my business.”
He sighs. “It’s okay. I know you know.” He turns away again, this time so she won’t see the pain. She places her small hand on his bare back, and he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. He turns back to her, but she doesn’t move her hand. It stays where it is in the air as he turns and now it is placed on his chest. He can feel the stirring start again and he gulps.
“I hate it when Devon goes to her,” she whispers as she steps closer, those erect nipples barely touching his chest. “I know you hate it too.” Jess tilts her head up and he stares down into her pretty blue eyes, her mouth blood red, lips parted, and he wants to delve his tongue in between them so he can know what she tastes like. His dick is rock hard as she brushes her hand lightly over him, but he steps back. He can’t do it. She is throwing herself at him and he can’t do it. Not with her. She is too close. But screw this, he needs someone. She looks sad as he steps back again.
He mutters, “I’ll see you later,” before he beats a hasty retreat out of the kitchen and back up the stairs.
But he knows an outsider, one that if he called right now would answer. Cole grabs his phone off the nightstand and calls Tanya. It’s 1 AM, but she picks up with her husky voice, making the one syllable of his name sound sexy. “Ready to try again?” he asks briskly.
“Anytime,” she says.
“I will be at your hotel in…” he says and glances again at the clock. At this hour, he can probably make it to London in forty minutes flat out. “…an hour,” he says.
“I’ll be waiting,” she purrs and hangs up. He gets dressed quickly, not thinking about anything but the next action in front of him. He is going to do this. He needs to. His balls are aching, and his cock is so hard he can’t even do his jeans up properly. His hand is useless; he needs a wet, inviting pussy. He needs his wife’s wet, inviting, perfect, pretty pussy, but she isn’t here. She is never here. Always off pleasing other people or saving the world. So, fuck it. He is going to Tanya’s hotel room and he is going to do this. He will bang her and then leave. It’s simple. Bang her, and then leave. He keeps thinking that as he pockets his phone and his wallet and silently leaves the bedroom, hoping he doesn’t bump into anyone on the way down to the garage.
Luck is on his side and he makes it without incident.
Creeping into the garage, he goes to the box that holds all the keys. He wants fast and furious. Liv doesn’t have a Veyron here, which is upsetting. If they move here, they will have to ship it over. He picks the next best thing, as what she does have, is a McLaren MP4 Spider. He has wanted to drive one of these forever. He grabs the key and unlocks it, pushing away the thought that he and Liv share a lot of things i
n common, fast cars being one of them. He opens the door and then curses himself.
He had been about to jump into the passenger side. Fucking British cars are backwards. He slides into the driver’s seat and roars the engine to life as quietly as he can. Not the easiest task. Hopefully it sounded more like a cub yawning than papa lion snarling. He opens the garage and eases the car out, closing it behind him. The crunch of the gravel driveway is loud, and he winces but keeps going. The gates open and he slams his foot down, feeling the power of the engine surge the car forward. Shit. Wrong side of the fucking road. How do people drive in this country with their narrow roads and on the wrong side?