The Renfield Syndrome

I bit down on my lower lip as a mind-boggling release detonated inside of me, starting at my stomach and spreading outward, and sent my body into uncontrollable tremors. My limbs shook and my muscles spasmed, my heart beating out of synch as I drew in ragged gulps of air. My sex clenched the fingers that continued to work at my center, gripping onto them as if my body feared they might leave and end the erotic bliss they created.

 

Strangely, the heat and light from the sun diminished as my orgasm came to a shattering conclusion, becoming almost artificial against my lids as I slowly descended from the clouds I had just floated upon.

 

I was no longer standing on a sandy, sun-scorched beach.

 

I was nestled on my side, resting atop a very soft and very comfortable mattress.

 

And I wasn’t alone.

 

Comprehension struck swiftly, and I opened my eyes.

 

What have I done?

 

I scrambled away as quickly as I could, which wasn’t fast enough considering blankets were wrapped around our entwined limbs. My mind refused to accept what it already knew. I had just engaged in a very sensual and fulfilling game of foreplay—and the man rewarding me for my involvement wasn’t Disco. The knowledge made my sexed and needy body feel incredibly wrong, gross and icky.

 

“How could you? You fucking sick bastard!” I collapsed onto the floor in a messy heap of tangled sheets. I couldn’t see Carter as I was currently staring at a mattress, but I knew he was there.

 

“I tried to stop.” He didn’t sound remorseful in the least. “You were the one who said you wanted more.”

 

“How did I get here?” I snarled as I disentangled my leg from the tan sheet that caused my fall and peered over the edge of the mattress. Carter was covered in nothing more than tight black boxer shorts and a lazy grin. I balled my hands into fists, prepared to beat the shit out of him.

 

Goddamned fucking prick!

 

He shrugged. “You passed out on the trip back.”

 

The anger subsided, pushed aside as I tried to recall exactly how I’d gotten where I was. Passed out? I remembered being carried from the library and into the midday sun. The voices of the men as they approached were too fuzzy to understand, a stirring of multiple echoes inside my brain. I assumed it was due to the ghosts that appeared along the way, watching as we traveled down the stairs of the building. Carter had climbed onto the bus with me, taken a seat, and asked someone to bring a glass and some water…

 

“You drugged me?” I asked in disbelief.

 

His smile evaporated. “You were inconsolable, Rhiannon.”

 

“I was fine!” I kicked free of the blasted linens until they were scattered across the floor. Then I faced him. “I should kick your goddamned ass!”

 

He rose from the mattress with the grace of a predatory cat, his chest muscles flexing with the movement. “You were talking to yourself and saying things that didn’t make any sense. I didn’t have another choice.”

 

To my utter dismay, the shirt engulfing me was several sizes too large and smelled strongly of the man I’d allowed to pass second base. My sense of guilt, shame and embarrassment magnified.

 

“I was not talking to myself.” I rotated in a circle, searching for my own clothing.

 

“I know that…now.”

 

I put his words together and froze. Something dawned on me, and my hand shot up to the throat he had nipped and played at. I closed my fingers over the mark at my neck. The shirt didn’t cover it. Disco’s claim wasn’t hidden. Anyone with a decent pair of eyes would be able to see it.

 

What I was to a vampire wasn’t a secret any longer.

 

I should have been dead…but I wasn’t.

 

“Where are my clothes?” Meeting Carter’s silver-laced eyes, I asked, “And why are we in your bed?”

 

“In the wash. You were soaked through when we arrived, and I couldn’t put you to bed in them. I stripped you down, put you in one of my shirts, and climbed in beside you to keep you warm.”

 

Keep me warm, my ass.

 

“Aren’t you just a boy scout and a gentleman to boot?” I asked with obvious sarcasm and told myself not to give him a middle finger salute. “Someone should get you a medal.” I snatched the offending sheet at my feet and attempted to pull it from the comforter to cover my lower body.

 

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