I sigh and shake my head. Fashion will always be the thing that drags Chris out of a funk. Just like my writing will always be mine.
I look at the blinking cursor and the happily ever after I just can’t seem to conjure.
At least I hope so.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX - Alec
My internal office line buzzes. Only the most important clients, employees and a few personal friends have this number.
“Brand,” I say brusquely into the receiver.
“Alec,” comes the familiar purr.
“Carla,” I respond. “So nice to hear from you.”
“I was hoping you’d think so,” she confesses in her feline way. As it turns out, however, I’m not in the mood for her, or any reminders of what I’m trying so hard to forget.
“What can I do for you?”
“Ooo, sounds like you need me a lot worse than I need you.”
“How do you figure?”
“I can hear that tension all the way through the phone. And I have just the thing for it.”
“I’m busy, Carla. What’s this about?”
Her laugh is sultry and grates on my nerves. “I’m having a mixer at the club. We’re adding a couple of new members. Thought I’d invite you. It’s all strictly downstairs. Unless, of course, anyone wants to go upstairs…”
“I don’t really have—”
“I really hope you can come. It’s important for members to show their support. You know it keeps everyone honest when we all mingle occasionally.”
In other words, what she’s saying is that, by mingling at her mixer, we all have something on each other, which means no one tells. Ever. The risk is too high. And she wants to bring the new members right into that. Like a hush party.
I don’t really approve of what she’s doing, but I do need to stay on the good side of her and her…endeavors. Besides, I have frequented the place for several years. I guess the least I could do is go for a drink or two, especially since the lure of the upstairs won’t be the focus of the night.
“I’ll try to stop by,” I answer noncommittally.
“Nine o’clock?”
“Sounds good.”
“Until then, Alec.”
“Carla.”
I hang up and lean back in my chair. I’ve been spending so much time at home brooding since I got back into South Carolina, it’ll be good to get out. If I hadn’t had to come back for some business things here at ABC Consulting, I’d still be in Oregon. Far away from Samantha Jansen.
And how much I still want her.
And how guilty I feel about it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - Samantha
Luckily, I did plenty of research for my books a couple of years ago when I began this vampire series. It was the first time I’d really let go and written about the things I’d seen in childhood. I did lots of investigating, trying to understand not only the mechanics of it all, but the pleasure principles involved. I guess Alec did the same thing in a way, only he was more interested in the psychological aspect of it. In many ways, we are very similar creatures.
I feel the pinch of the outfit I’m wearing under my loose-fitting, floor-length dress. I have to look presentable on the outside. For a while anyway. I owe that to Carla for her help getting me in. Luckily, she was agreeable to helping me do this for Alec. I think she practically drooled over the thought of Alec getting…back into things.
My stomach twitches with fear. A healthy dose of fear. I ignore it. What I’ve discovered in the days since talking to Chris is that the fear of losing Alec forever is far greater than any other fear I’ve known, including the ones I experienced as a child. Besides, even if this isn’t effective, I need to work toward putting the past behind me. I can’t move forward as long as I’m shackled to haunting memories, anchored in yesterday. And I must move on. One way or the other.
I grab my bag and walk toward the bedroom door. I pause in front of the mirror to look myself over one more time.
The pale skin of my exposed arms and throat glows with a healthy sheen and my hair falls in a rich crimson wave almost to my waist. My lips are stained a color near that of my hair and my eyes are lined in charcoal. The makeup is heavy, but it can’t conceal the uncertainty lurking in the gray depths of my eyes, nor can it conceal the tremble of anticipation that works at my lower lip. I bite it as if to remind it to keep still. I’m doing this tonight. No backing out.
Carefully, I walk to the car in my stilettoes. I pitch the bag in the back and ignore the nervous tremor of my hand as I slide the key into the ignition.
This will all be over soon.
With the help of navigation, I make my way back to the renovated house. The club. It’s dark outside when I pull into the lot and park. Warm light pours into the night from every window on the lower level. The upper levels are pitch black.
My heart trips over itself in my chest.
I get out and walk around to the back, going through the back door as instructed. I walk up the back staircase, also as instructed, and find the right room. I stop just inside the doorway, taking in the clean, crisp sheets and the accoutrements that have terrified me for years.
Shaking off my trepidation, I close the door and get out all the things I could gather from my house. Anyone who saw inside my bag would think I’m a traveling freak show.
And I guess, to some extent, they’d be right.
When I’m finished, I go back out to the hall, close the door and head downstairs, slipping my domino on as I go.
I wait anxiously at the bar, sipping on first one drink then another then another. Still no sign of Alec. My disappointment is keen. But so is my relief.
I turn toward the bartender, requesting a glass of water this time. Happily, he sets one on a napkin in front of me and I tag a long, refreshing gulp.
“New members, huh? Now I understand Carla’s ambiguity.”
My pulse leaps at the sound of his voice.
I turn slowly on my seat to face Alec. At first, I’m struck speechless. How I could forget how handsome he is, I’ll never know. I’ve thought all along that he is my real life Mason. But what I have just now come to realize is that he is so much more, so much better. Mason is a shadow of the man Alec is. And what I feel for him is a thousand leagues deeper than what Daire feels for her vampire.
This is love. Real love. And this is my last chance at it.
The stern set of his mouth assures me he’s not happy at the subterfuge, and behind his domino, his eyes are hard. But neither of those things stops me from melting over Alec—his scent, his eyes, his body. His soul. I love it all. I love him. Irrevocably.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask, ignoring his comment.
He hesitates. Understandably. I was mean and ugly and childish when last we spoke. I’m surprised he didn’t turn right around and walk back out the door. The fact that he didn’t gives me hope. Tiny hope, but hope nonetheless.
This time, he ignores me. He asks the bartender for a glass of twenty-five year old Glenlivet and downs it in one long swallow, signaling him immediately for another. When the bartender places the second one in front of him, Alec takes the glass and turns to face me, leaning casually against the bar.
“I don’t suppose I need to ask what you’re doing here.”
“Don’t you?”
He raises one black brow, but says nothing, simply takes another sip of his scotch.
He sets the half full glass back on the bar and folds his hands in front of him, settling in to watch me in that unnerving way of his. It amplifies my jitters tenfold.
Clearing my throat, I give myself a mental shove and I take a step closer to Alec, looking up into his handsome face and light green eyes. “I never got the chance to apologize for that night. I never meant to get so ugly or to make you…to force you to…”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he finally says, jumping in to save me. “That’s what happens between people like us.”
His comment stings, but I let it roll off me. Tonight, I can’t afford to let anything steal my focus. I have to do this, not only for Alec, but for me. I need to find a way to deal with my past, whether it mends things between us or not. I can’t live with this fear for the rest of my life.
I clench and unclench my fingers a couple of times to relax them before I make my move and reach for Alec’s hand. Slowly, with my eyes still on his, I slide my fingers over his palm. He grips my fingers and pushes away from the bar. He narrows his eyes on me, suspicious but intrigued, setting fire to my stomach. I smile at him and tip my head behind me, toward the steps, a silent indication for him to follow.
Still holding his hand, I turn toward the wide, curved staircase. Slowly and with great purpose, I mount each step, tugging Alec along behind me. With my every movement, I’m hyper aware of the clothing beneath my dress, of the fingers lying lightly in mine, of the man trailing along behind me. I remind myself that I trust him and that he’s worth this. And that I need it, and maybe he does, too.
I press on.
At the top of the stairs, I turn to the right, toward the room my things are in. All my senses are on high alert, but I’m not as nervous as I would’ve been had I not downed a couple of drinks before Alec arrived. I’m far from drunk, but it did manage to take the edge off.
I twist the knob and push open the door, stopping just outside it so Alec can look in. I’m sure he has an inkling of what I’m up to, but I want to give him the full effect.
Nearly every surface is covered in lit candles, giving the room a soft, dreamy feel that’s incongruous with the kinky paraphernalia scattered about. I watch Alec’s face as he scans the area, making note of several items before glancing back at me.
He says nothing, just arches that one brow. It’s almost like he’s daring me.
My stomach flips over. I tug on his hand, pulling him further into the room and closing the door behind him. I reach up to remove his domino. And then I remove mine.
“You promised you’d help me. And I’m not cured yet,” I explain as I reach for his tie, loosening the knot.
“Is that right?”
I nod, releasing the first button on his shirt and then letting my hands trail down his flat stomach to coyly graze the bulge behind his zipper.
I throw off every “Samantha” insecurity and embrace the brazen Laura Drake in me. I trade soft for sexy, docile for daring, fearful for fearless.
I cup him boldly, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Now’s your chance to show me.” I nip his lobe, hard enough to feel it all the way in my stomach. There’s something intoxicating about being this way, about burying Samantha and all her issues for a little while and just feeling, exploring. Risking.
“Show you what,” he asks, his arm winding around my waist to pull me closer.
I lean back to look into his face. “Everything.”
Alec’s hand moves up my back and into my loose hair. I feel his fingers curl into a fist. “Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you’re ready?”
I cup his face in my hands and drag my tongue along his lower lip before I suck it into my mouth. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Alec’s hand tugs on my head, roughly angling it for his mouth. When it descends on mine, I taste his hunger. I taste the ravenous beast I’m attempting to unleash. And while there is excitement and anticipation and desire like nothing I’ve ever known, still, there is a dash of fear sprinkled among the rest. But Alec needs this. And so do I. It’s for those reasons that I continue.
I plant my hands against Alec’s chest and push with all my might. He lets me go, his breathing ragged and his eyes dark with wicked, feral passion.
I back away from him, reaching behind me to unzip my dress as I go. I pull the sleeves off my shoulders and let the garment fall to my waist, revealing the black gossamer teddy beneath.
Alec’s eyes travel to my length and back again, stopping to focus on my nipples. I feel them harden, ready for what’s to come. I know he can see them perfectly through the sheer material. It’s not meant to leave much to the imagination.
I stop and wiggle my hips, letting the material of my dress fall to a heap on the floor around my black high heels. I stand straight and tall before him, knowing that he can see every curve and valley and shadow, even in the pale candlelight. And he can see the delicate zippers that give him access to various body parts, all his for the quick flick of his fingers. But I’m sure he knows that. I found this among the items he ordered from Ursula. I was appalled at first. Now I’m excited.
Carefully stepping out of the puddle of my dress, I walk to the bed and climb onto it, standing with my legs spread and my hair teasing my shoulders. Alec’s eyes are like hot coals on me, burning every surface they touch, setting my world on fire.
Slowly, I reach down and take the zipper tabs that begin at my navel and I pull down and out, at an angle toward my hips. When the zippers stop, I tug and a large piece of sheer material falls away from my lower abdomen and crotch, leaving me bare from waist to groin. With a flourish I fling it to the side and drop to my knees on the bed, reaching to my left and right to take the ends of two black silk scarves tied to the bed. I wind them around my wrists.
“Show me,” I repeat, my eyes trained on his.
Alec hesitates only for a second. I’m not sure why, whether it’s the fact that I’m challenging him, or the thought that I might end up freaking out. Whatever the cause, it lasts only for a split second. I know the instant he gives in. I see it the moment that the wild side takes over.
Walking slowly toward me, further loosening his tie and pulling it from around his neck, Alec puts one knee on the bed and reaches for my legs, jerking me roughly toward him. Twisting one hand in my hair, he yanks my head back and crushes his lips against mine, his tongue invading my mouth, demanding more of me than I’ve ever before given.