I'll Be Slaying You (Night Watch 2)

“—but you and me—I thought we were friends.”

“We are.” Soft.

Simon knew better than to get between two fighting women.

“Friends don’t keep secrets.”

“You didn’t want to know this.” Catalina’s long hair floated behind her as she walked around the bar, poured a whiskey, and drank it in two gulps. “When I scryed and found out—you didn’t want to know.”

“My choice.” Dee threw this over her shoulder as she marched toward the marked door. “You took it away.”

Catalina’s fingers clenched around the glass. Dee shoved open the door. Simon followed, slower.

Glass shattered. “I didn’t take it away.” He caught the whisper of the witch’s voice. “I gave him to you, and I gave you a fighting chance.”

Dee didn’t glance back. Maybe she heard the witch. Maybe she didn’t.

Right then, he guessed it didn’t matter.

She awoke to hands on her flesh. Slow, stroking fingers that pushed up her shirt, skated over her stomach. Gentle. So gentle.

Her lashes lifted. Darkness surrounded her, but she could see so well.

See him.

Healed now. Not even a scar to mar his face or the bare flesh of his arms. He leaned over her, eyes intent, fangs gleaming.

Dee reached up and touched his chest. “I dreamed about you.” Yeah, vampires dreamed. Or, in her case, had nightmares.

The flames, burning Simon’s flesh. Killing him.

He’d walked through the fire for her. Whatever agenda the guy was working, he’d sacrificed for her, again.

His gaze held hers. His fingers were a warm weight on her flesh. No aches troubled her body. No pains. Healed, just as he was.

But…hungry.

The bloodlust, rising again.

She’ll drink from any fool she wants. Drink, drain, and f**k—and you’ll be just as screwed as before.

No, Leo had been wrong about her. She would have control and she would have Simon. “Stop risking death for me,” she whispered and the words stuck in her throat.

A sad smile twisted his lips. “Don’t you understand? I’d risk any damn thing for you.”

He kissed her. Still gentle. Still soft.

And the hunger grew.

Her hands clamped around his shoulders and she pulled him closer.

His tongue thrust into her mouth. She moaned, eager, and arched toward him.

Taste.

His hands eased up, sliding under the shirt that still covered her br**sts. His fingers skimmed over her bra, over the ni**les that were pebbled and hard, thrusting up against the cotton.

She could smell her own need in the air. Feel him all around her.

Simon’s head lifted. “I want your throat.”

Drink.

Asking, not taking. The lust was there, brimming in the eyes gone black.

For vamps, blood was about power, control, life.

In Simon’s eyes, she just saw need. The same stark need that she knew would be reflected in her own gaze. Dee tipped back her head.

Should have been repulsed. Horrified. Even with what she was—

His teeth scraped over her neck.

Her sex clenched.

Should have been afraid.

His teeth pierced her flesh. Her nails dug into his skin. “Simon!” A bolt of pleasure shot straight to her core. Her belly quivered, her knees shook, and she wanted.

Dee’s hands pushed between them. Fumbled with the snap of his jeans.

Dee wanted his flesh beneath her fingers. She needed more. So much more.

Her hands shoved inside and she found his cock. Fully erect, thick, so hot to the touch.

“Inside,” she managed to gasp, “Inside, Simon, I need—”

His tongue swiped over her neck and he lifted his head. “Take from me.”

Her lips parted and her tongue pressed against a fang. Sweet blood.

Simon.

She rose, and her hands pressed him back against the mattress. He went willingly, letting her have the control she needed then.

Power.

No, not about power.

The hunger. The lust.

Craving.

She didn’t take his neck, though he offered his throat to her. Dee yanked off her shirt. Tossed her bra aside, then straddled him, her legs resting over his powerful thighs.

Her fingers trailed down his chest and she leaned forward. A dull thudding filled her ears. Her heartbeat? His? Her mouth pressed against his flesh. Not in a bite. A kiss.

Pleasure.

She closed her lips around his nipple. Swirled her tongue over the hard nub. His c**k pushed up between her thighs, rubbing at the crotch of her jeans, and the pressure had her rocking back and forth.

More.

“Take, Dee. Take from me.” Guttural. A demand.

But he wasn’t in control anymore.

Her tongue swiped over him and she let him feel the press of her teeth. Not a bite. Not yet.

Maybe he’d beg for that.

His hands clamped over her hips and he ground her against his cock. Oh, damn, but that was good. Just not—

Enough. Not even close.

“Don’t play.” An order given as her fingers crept down the hard plane of stomach. “You don’t want to push me, you don’t want—”

She looked up at that and knew her eyes would be black. “I want everything.”

“Then you’ll get it,” a harsh whisper. “Hope you’re ready.”

So did she.

But she had the power, she’d be in control.

Her teeth sank into his chest. His growl filled her ears even as the hot warmth of his blood slipped over her tongue.

Life.

Power. So much power.

Her hips lifted and her fingers curled around his cock. She pumped him, once, twice, felt his length swell even more in her grasp. Felt—

Dee stood in an alley. One hand on her hip. A vampire hissed at her, and that preppy fool holding the vamp blinked his eyes.

“Just how long do you think it’s gonna take me to shove this into your heart? A minute? Less?”

She pulled back from him. Her memory, seen from his eyes. No, his memory. “Simon, why do I—”

“Not now,” he gritted. “Ditch the jeans or I’ll rip them off.”

She didn’t have any backup clothes then and—

“Fucking rip them off.”

Dee rolled off him. She shimmied out of her jeans and panties even as she licked her lips and tasted him.

His hands, warm, strong, closed around her thighs. He pushed her legs apart and his breath blew against her damp curls.

“Your smell.” His nostrils flared. “I could devour you.”

Um, now, since he was a vamp that could—Oh, damn.