Her ivory skin contrasted with the sheen of her ebony hair. And her lashes went on for days. Tall, lithe, natural curves...
“Hello.” Her melodic voice cut through him, carving an open tunnel for blood to rush straight to his cock.
Easily the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. He swallowed thickly, blinking out of his trance and mopping up the sweat gathering at the back of his neck. “What’s up?” He winced. He should have opened with something more original.
“I’m Larissa. I’m from out of town.”
No shit she was from out of town. She looked like she just rolled off a film set of some darkly erotic thriller. “I’m Vito.”
“What place is this, Vito?”
The sound of his name on her lips hardened his cock. She had an accent he couldn’t place. Sort of German. He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “That’s Silhouettes.”
“Silhouettes?” she repeated, her head tilting and drawing his attention to her breasts. He bet they were soft, the way real tits were meant to feel. Her tight nipples pushed against the thin fabric.
This was the sort of woman they needed. “You lookin’ for a job?”
Her gaze lowered to his mouth. “A job? What do they do here?”
“Dance. It’s a club. For men.”
“But I’m a woman.”
“I noticed. The men pay the women to dance for them. Haven’t you ever heard of a strip club?” She wasn’t the brightest knife in the drawer. Or bulb in the... How did the saying go?
“I’m Amish. We don’t have such things where I’m from.”
“You work at the Amish market?”
Her brow creased. “No. I’m new.”
Yeah, she looked brand fucking new, the kind of brand new he’d like to spank. What could he do for her to get her lips on him? “You lookin’ for work?”
“Will they pay me?”
The pretty ones were always a little off. “Can you dance?”
She smiled, flashing perfectly white teeth. “I can do whatever I want.”
Fuck. That mouth... “I can take you inside to meet Joe, the manager.”
Her full lips parted, and she hesitated. “First I need to eat. It was an ordeal getting here and I’m ... dizzy.”
“You can order something at the bar—” His words cut off as her fingers grazed the stubble along his jaw. He hadn’t seen her move. “Uh...”
“I think you and I will be great friends, Vito.”
His cock thickened and he swallowed. His hand lifted to her back as those soft lips grazed the stubble at his jaw. “Me too. You want to see the inside of my car?” And my pants?
Her tongue skated over his pulse, and his eyes rolled back in his head. She stepped closer, her soft breasts pressing against his chest.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Larissa. Stay still now.”
His body jerked as she bit into his neck. His eyes widened, but he couldn’t think. His cock pulsed and his hands tightened over her hips as she swirled her tongue over his throat, giving him the hickey of a lifetime.
Her fingers combed through his hair, soothing and lulling him. His spine tingled, his balls drawing up tight, and heat seeped into his briefs. Jesus, she made him fucking come in his shorts.
And she just kept sucking on his throat. A flaccid calm washed over him. If she was the angel of death, he’d never been more content to die.
Chapter Forty-Six
“Gracie!” Adam paced a trench in the floor, his insides corroding with fear.
“Adam?” His sister knocked, and he yanked the door wide. “What is—” Her hands covered her mouth. “Oh, no...”
“She’s not waking! This is taking too long. Something’s wrong!”
His stomach churned with worry as she examined his mate. He waited for the slightest flutter of life, but only cold, stillness filled the room. His connection to her severed, and her pulse stopped.
“Her wounds haven’t healed.” Grace gasped, pressing a trembling hand to her brow. “This gash should have closed.”
“The bleeding stopped an hour ago.” But he understood her concern. Her wounds should have healed. Choking on his doubts, he lowered to the bed, his chest heaving with worry. He gripped her cold hand and rocked. “Anna... Open your eyes. I command you to wake up!”
Gracie lowered a hand to his back, and he flinched.
“What’s happening, Grace? Why isn’t she shifting? I feel nothing from her. I need you to get in her head.”
“All right. Shh. Let me concentrate.” Her eyes closed, and he sensed her straining, felt the pinch of her shared panic.
He choked on a sob. “Anything?”
“Shh...”
He continued to rub her hand, trying to warm her skin. He wouldn’t live without her. Not because she was his salvation, but because she was his heart. How would he breathe without her? How would he ever smile again?
He pressed his damp eyes to her fingers. “Please, ainsicht... Don’t leave me.”
“Her mind is quiet.”
“Quiet or ... silent?”
Grace masked her emotions and drew in a slow breath, her eyes unblinking from his. “You must trust God’s plan, Adam.”