Night Huntress 02 - One Foot in the Grave

“You’d better not stop fucking me,” I snarled, and a decadent grin lit his face. “Because if you do, I’ll drain you dry.”

 

 

Bones laughed, savage and exultant. “You’ll drain me dry, but not my neck, and you’ll beg me to stop before I’m finished,” he promised before abandoning himself to the battle.

 

 

 

 

 

THIRTY-THREE

 

 

 

 

 

“WAKE UP, LUV. IT’S nearly noon.”

 

My lashes fluttered open to meet a pair of dark brown eyes. Bones sat on the bed. Or the remains of it.

 

Lucidity returned with a vengeance. He laughed at the color that immediately scalded my face.

 

“And there is my payment, the rubies in your cheeks. Are you properly scandalized by your wicked behavior? If you were Catholic, you’d singe the ears of the priest you confessed to. Do you remember making me swear to repeat all those naughty actions again, no matter what you said this morning?”

 

Now that he brought it up, I did recall saying that. Great. Betrayed by my own immorality.

 

“God, Bones... some of that was depraved.”

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He closed the distance between us. “I love you. Don’t be ashamed of anything we did, even if your prudery is on life support.”

 

I studied his neck where I’d bitten him. There were no marks, of course, and none on my own throat. With all the blood I’d drunk from him, I’d probably heal as fast as he did for the next few days.

 

“I’ll never look at your fangs the same way after last night. A part of me wants to apologize for holding you back before, and the other part wants you to apologize to me because you knew better!”

 

He laughed again. “I still have more to show you, trust me, but there isn’t time now. We’re behind schedule as it is since I let you sleep.”

 

I threw the covers off me and headed to the bathroom. Behind schedule or not, I was taking a shower. Bones was already washed and dressed. His hair was still slightly damp.

 

“There’s something you should know,” he called after me. “Tate’s here. He spent the night.”

 

The shampoo squirted across the wall instead of in my hand. For the first time, I noticed the heartbeat downstairs. “Why?”

 

There was tempered deliberation in Bones’ words as he entered the bathroom. “He convinced Rodney to drop the others off and bring him back here, out of misguided concern for you. When he arrived, you and I were well occupied. Annette invited him to stay and entertain her. He accepted.”

 

The shower rod came off when I yanked the curtain back too hard to look at him. Bones caught it and hung it back without comment.

 

“Tate and Annette? Not playing poker, were they?”

 

“No, why, are you jealous?” he bluntly asked.

 

“No, are you?”

 

“Not at all. Just annoyed at her spite toward you, but that’s been dealt with.”

 

“Tate called me a necrophiliac once.” There was an edge to my voice. “I’ll have to return the compliment.”

 

“You just did. He’s listening, I can feel it.”

 

Was he? Nosy prick. He knew I didn’t like Annette. She wasn’t the only one being spiteful. Another thought registered. “You knew last night, didn’t you?”

 

Bones inclined his head in acknowledgment. “You can forget asking me why I didn’t tell you. Not for worlds would I have interrupted us, and if he chose to stay, that was his prerogative. Never fear—I forgot about him at once, because you demanded all my attention.”

 

As I lathered my hair, I decided I wasn’t upset at Bones. After all, it was pretty damn difficult to even shower and not throw him back on the bed. My modesty might still be outraged, but the rest of me wasn’t.

 

Bones inhaled, his eyes glinting as he caught my scent. “I’m going downstairs. I can’t be so close to you without wanting you, and there’s no time.”

 

He left in a swish of motion, making me smile as I resumed washing.

 

Four heads swiveled in my direction when I came down. The kitchen table was full. Since most of the chairs were broken from yesterday, we were short a seat. Bones pulled me onto his lap without pausing in his conversation with Rodney, tapping the plate of food in front of him.

 

“Eat something. Can’t have you getting faint because you keep skipping meals.”

 

“I’m amazed she can even walk,” Tate griped without looking up. “You must have given her a gallon of blood after what I heard last night.”

 

“Is that any concern of yours?” Bones coolly inquired, tightening his grip when I would have risen to smack Tate. “At work you have your seniority, Kitten, but he’s on personal ground now, so those rules don’t apply.”

 

“I’d keep a lid on it if I were you, Tate,” I warned. “Nice to see you walking without a limp, too, or are you? You’re seated so I can’t tell.”

 

Tate didn’t back down. “You’re the one who said once you go dead, no one’s better in bed. Thought I’d see if you were right.”

 

Rodney laughed. “You said that, Cat?”

 

Jeaniene Frost's books