chapter Five
Ringo Columbia sat in the ugly chair Kelsey had picked out for their new apartment and tried to focus on the two men in front of him.
Maybe he'd used a little too much this time, because he had the serious feeling that he was going to throw up. Just lean forward and hurl out all that blood, all that heroin, all his innards and breath and control. He hated this pain, this nausea, hated that no one would just leave him the fuck alone.
"Go away," he told Donatelli's bodyguards, Smith and Williams.
"You know we can't do that," Williams said, shaking his thick head back and forth. "You've got to return the stuff or pay for it."
"I can't return it." He'd shot up almost all of it, desperate enough that he'd skipped his preferred method of drinking his heroin in blood. This time he'd been so hungry for it, he'd just taken a needle and arm-popped it, not even looking for a vein. "And I don't have the money. So go away."
That would be the best thing, if they would just get out and leave him alone. He wanted to be alone. That seemed easy enough to him. Just open the door and disappear. But they wouldn't and it made him feel bitter as hell. What the fuck did he ever do to them?
Williams nailed him in the face with his fist, the force snapping Ringo's head back while Smith started a search of the apartment, ripping open their kitchen cabinets and desk drawers. Kelsey was going to be pissed. She worked her skinny ass off keeping their place clean and filled with weird little decorative shit, like pictures of apples and stands with scented candles. He could never figure out what was so great about having their house stink like cinnamon all the time, but she dug it.
Ringo should move out of the chair. He should stand up and kill both of the ugly motherfuckers, just take them out. He was faster and smarter and he should be able to fix this.
But he couldn't stand, not when he felt so sick and strung out, and the hazy sleepiness blanketed over the stomach rot and pounding skull. He took another hit to the head, and he groaned at the pain, leaning over the side of the chair and puking on the carpet.
Williams made a sound of disgust and stepped back. Good. Ringo hoped he'd leave, but the front door opened and he heard Kelsey's voice.
"What's going on here?"
"Hey, baby," he said, struggling to keep his eyes open. It would be so much easier to just let them close, to fall asleep and have the voices and the pain disappear.
Cold water hit him in the face. "Shit!" He jerked upright in the chair. His wife had thrown a glass of water all over him. "What the hell was that for?"
She stood there, her skinny legs apart, full lips pursed, the empty glass in her hand. "While you're just sitting there sleeping, they're wrecking our apartment."
"I wasn't sleeping." Was he? He wasn't sure. Now that he looked around, it seemed like Smith had made a lot of progress on destroying the room. There were cushions, papers, drawers pulled out everywhere.
"Okay, so you've been resting your eyes for the last ten minutes. Whatever. Call it what you want. Now get these guys out of here, Ringo." Her voice veered into whining. He really hated when she whined.
"I'd love to, but I don't think they're going to leave without their money, babe. Got any cash?"
Her shoulders slumped, her sexy little black shirt shifting over and exposing her shoulder. Ringo thought Kelsey was just the prettiest little stupid woman he'd ever met, though her brand of stupid was different than true dumbness. Kelsey was more random than idiotic, and she had some really killer qualities that he liked. He really did love her. He liked the way she giggled. But damn it, she wasn't giggling much anymore. That was a big-ass shame. She was a good giggler.
"No, I don't have any money." Kelsey turned to Smith. "How much?"
"Two grand."
"Ringo!" Her horrified expression made him ashamed, which made him angry.
"What? I just needed a little, Kels. That's all. You know what that's like." Hell, she'd been a user herself when she was a mortal. So fuck her. She wasn't any better than he was.
"Can you give us some time?" she asked Williams. "A couple of weeks?"
"I don't think so." The asshole shook his head and took one of Kelsey's scented candles and tossed it up in the air with his thick hands. "You'd have to really motivate me to risk Donatelli getting pissed at me for failing to deliver right away."
"What? A cut for you?"
"Maybe."
Ringo realized that Williams was leering at his wife, rolling his eyes up and down over her body. He sat up straighten Maybe they could take advantage of that, keep the monkey off their back for a few weeks. "So what if Kelsey did a favor for both of you?"
"What kind of favor?"
There were limits on what he'd let these losers do to his wife, but a little oral sex had never killed anyone, and it would give them some time to find the money. Then he wouldn't have to give back the little bit of heroin he still had left. "Kelsey's a fun girl. Fucking amazing on her knees, as she can demonstrate for you if you're interested."
Smith smiled. "I might consider that. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Kelsey?"
But Kelsey didn't say anything. She just turned on her heel and went into their bedroom.
"I didn't mean right now, babe," Ringo called to her. Damn, her negotiation skills sucked. "Wait until they say yes first."
"Yes," Smith said.
Williams shook his head. "No."
Frustrated, Ringo was about to argue with him, try to persuade him to take a good deal, when he realized that Kelsey had come back out of the bedroom with a suitcase rolling behind her. That didn't make any sense to him. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"I'm leaving you."
It took him a full ten seconds to process her words. "What?" She didn't mean like leave him for good, did she? She couldn't mean that. Kelsey loved him.
"I'm moving out. You can deal with your addiction, these guys, Donatelli, all by yourself. I'm done."
Well, that sucked. "Come on. Let's talk about this." Ringo fought to keep his eyelids open. Shit, he was sleepy, and he just wanted to sink back and enjoy the haze. But he didn't want his wife to leave him. He didn't. "What's the problem?"
Her lip trembled as she grabbed her purse off the kitchen table. "Oh, I don't know, the fact that you offered to prostitute me for your drugs. That kind of says something about our relationship. You don't respect me. I'm not a priority to you."
Great, she was going into psychobabble land on him. "Oh, my God, come on. I'm sorry, shit, it just seemed like a fast fix. Don't get all worked up, it's just a blow job. You should want to help me, you know. You should support me."
She opened her mouth, than snapped it shut again. She turned to Williams. "Do what you have to do. But I'm just asking you, as a favor to me, not to kill him."
And with that his wife left. Just walked out, rolling her little prissy pink suitcase behind him, like she didn't have a fucking care in the world. Leaving him with Dumb and Dumber and a sick stomach and no money.
So much for loyalty. Love.
Ringo didn't even bother to duck the next blow. He just let it nail him dead on, rattling his teeth and bursting the skin on his cheek open. Wishing Kelsey had told them to kill him, he closed his eyes. He was already in hell. Might as well make it official.
And when he got there, he was going to make damn sure Donatelli followed right after him.
Nate was actually surprised that Gwenna hadn't just sent him packing with a thanks and a don't call me, I'll call you. That hadn't exactly been his smoothest sexual encounter, and while he knew she'd had an orgasm, it had all been a little fast and furious. In the midst of it, he had been positive she'd been digging it, had felt her enthusiasm and her wild abandonment. But it seemed like the second he pulled it out, she was having regrets, trying to cover her nakedness up, and worrying about her phone ringing. Then she had been embarrassed as hell by the security guard and Nate had figured the night was over and he should be grateful for what he'd gotten.
But Gwenna had come back with the idea of slipping into a massage room and he was smart enough not to question fortune when it shined on him. Now he was kissing the bejeezus out of her on a massage table and feeling damn grateful she was giving him a chance to go back into the game. This time he was going to draw things out, build a little suspense, make her completely satisfied and glad she'd spent the night with him, not waking up in the morning wondering why the hell she'd had sex with a stranger.
To that end, he was employing a good old-fashioned make-out session, no rushing, no groping, just kissing slow and easy, like they were a raw sixteen and lip locking was enough to satisfy. He could feel her relaxing beneath him, her knees sinking back down to the table, her hands letting go of the death grip she'd had on the front of his shirt. When he'd laid her down, she hadn't resisted, but she hadn't exactly embraced the idea either. She had stiffened, knees up in the air, hands pressing against him like she was holding him at bay, her head slightly up off the pillow.
But now she was sort of melting onto the bed, all of her body relaxing and opening for him, her hair spread out around her head, her breathing soft and languid. Nate ran his tongue across her bottom lip, enjoying the sound she made. It was a tiny sigh, a release, a letting go. That was what he wanted, what they both needed. Here in the narrow semidark room, with a lingering scent of earthy candle and lotions, there was nothing to worry about. No reality. Just each other and pleasure, for a short space of time, before it would all crash back in on them.
Nate wasn't all that comfortable half standing, half leaning over her on the bed, but he was capable of compartmentalizing. He could ignore his calf muscle burning for the privilege of running his finger over her smooth cheek, down her neck, across her shoulder. Gwenna had amazing skin, with absolutely no imperfections anywhere. It was like brushing his lips over satin sheets, cool and sleek and expensive. He was very conscious of how big and rough and guy he was next to her, and he liked that. She was delicate and slight and all things soft and feminine.
"This is very nice," she murmured, breaking their kiss. "Did you notice the bed is heated? It feels delicious."
He had noticed because it was the last thing in the world he needed. He was generating plenty of heat on his own and knew if he lay down on the massage table with her, he was going to break out into a massive sweat. But he had noticed that Gwenna's skin tended to be always cold. She must have a slow metabolism or something. "Glad you like it. I bet it would feel even better under the blanket." With her clothes off.
"We're not going to fit in here together, you do know that, don't you?" She looked up at him with a slight smile.
God, her blue eyes were so gorgeous he could just about eat them. When he stared into their depths, when he saw all that pain, all that melancholy, all that determination, he wanted to bury himself in her and never, ever leave. It was scary as hell, but very compelling. Irresistible.
"We'll fit. We just have to do a little prep work." Nate ripped his shirt off over his head. "Your turn."
A spot of color appeared in her cheeks, but she sat up and removed her T-shirt, too, though she kept it bunched in front of her.
"You know what's coming next, don't you?" he asked, for some reason hoping he wouldn't actually have to say they needed to both take their pants off before he climbed under that blanket with her. Otherwise, once they were under, one of them was going to topple to the floor if they tried to undress on the narrow bed.
Expecting her to dance around what he was saying, she stunned him by saying, "Well, I'm hoping gobs of brilliant sex is coming next. Please tell me I'm right."
Nate let out a laugh. Gwenna was full of surprises. Good ones. "You are absolutely one hundred percent correct. But we have to ditch the jeans to make this work." To put action to his words, Nate undid his pants and got rid of them in two seconds. The boxer briefs followed suit.
Gwenna wasn't taking her jeans off, which was disappointing. She was too busy ogling him to undress, which he had to admit was hot. It made his cock jump a little at the clear appreciation she was showing. Her eyes went wide, and her pink lips formed an "O" at his movement, and her tongue flicked out to lick her lip. Nate forgave her for still having clothes on. Especially when she rolled on her side and wrapped a hand around him, stroking lightly up and down.
"Do you mind?" she asked.
Give him a minute to think about that. Hell, no . "Not at all."
"You're bigger than I expected," she murmured, using both hands to glide up and down on his shaft, fingers tickling over his balls.
Wait a minute. Even though the grip of pleasure, Nate wondered what that statement implied. "Bigger than you expected before or after I was actually inside you?"
Her fingers stilled. She gave a soft laugh. "Sorry. I meant before. You know, in general. Bigger."
Alright then. "I've never made a study out of it, but I'm glad I don't fall short in your eyes." And when was she going to start moving again? Nate thrust his erection into her cupped hand, trying to encourage her to stroke again.
She took the hint. "No, you definitely don't fall short."
Then she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around him. Nate closed his eyes and groaned. Wow. That was a beautiful thing.
Gwenna was shocking herself, but only in the best of ways. She couldn't believe she'd just taken it upon herself to pull Nate's erection into her mouth. But when she had turned on her side, it had been right there, and she had been curious. His whole body was muscular and firm, with hair in various places, lending to his overall rugged and masculine appearance, and his erection had added to the singularly attractive picture. Everything about him shouted male, and she had wanted to touch him, explore the way his flesh felt.
She also had the urge to taste his blood, to sink her fangs into his erection and suck on that pulsing hot liquid, but she knew the only way to do that was to put Nate under a glamour, and that wouldn't be right. He should have the option to say yes or no to her nipping some blood off him, which would require explaining that yes, in fact, she truly was a vampire. Which wasn't a conversation for the moment. They had more important things to take care of right now.
Like the fact that she was desperately aroused yet again, and amazed at that feeling. But as she slid her mouth up and down over Nate's flesh, she had a sexual epiphany. This actually felt astonishingly good. Tasted delicious. Felt powerful. Like she held the key to his control in her movements. A shift here, a lick there, and she could change the tenor of his pleasure, increase his moans, feel his body tense in ecstasy. It was exciting to register that kind of equality, that kind of give-and-take between them, that it wasn't him dominating the experience. The way she was used to with Roberto.
This was completely different, this was mutual pleasure, and she wanted to explore it fully. She took Nate into her mouth over and over until he was slick with her saliva, his hands gripping the back of her head, his heart pounding loudly in her vampire ears, and her own body was hot and tight and aching with desire. Finally, she broke off, breathing hard, her lips wet and swollen.
"Holy crap, Gwenna." Nate sucked in some air and shuddered. "You're killing me."
"But in a good way, right?" she asked, lying on her back, and shrugging out of her jeans, making sure she did it slowly, human style, as opposed to with vampire speed, which she would prefer. Yet whisking her pants off before he could blink was sure to raise questions at a time when she didn't feel like talking.
"Absolutely in a good way." Nate bent over, dug around in his pants.
"What are you doing?" Back on her side, she leaned over and studied his bum. Very nice. Tight.
"I'm looking for a condom."
Knowing there was no way to convey to him that she could neither get pregnant, nor give or receive a sexually transmitted disease, she kept quiet.
"Shit! I only had one." Nate's face was scrunched up in frustration, his voice angry.
Gwenna felt the need to soothe him, despite her own very real disappointment. She had truly wanted him inside her a second time. But she was willing to get over it and focus on oral sex. That's how big about it she was prepared to be. She reached out and traced her fingers over his abdomen. "No matter. We'll still find things to do, I'm sure." Dropping her wrist, she enclosed his erection with her palm. "Now just relax. You've gotten tense."
His teeth were gritted. "That makes me tense. In a good way. I could run downstairs and get some condoms… there's got to be a store open somewhere in this place. It's a casino. You can buy everything twenty-four/seven in a casino."
But Gwenna was feeling too in the moment to bother. She just shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Come onto this bed with me, Nate." Letting go of him, she kicked the blanket off her body with her feet.
It was a moment of pure and total liberation, watching his face go dark with desire, hearing his breath hitch. No man but her ex had ever seen her completely unclothed like that, and she wanted to revel in the feeling, savor the sensation that Nate found her attractive.
"You're amazingly beautiful," he said, eyes sweeping from head to toe and back again. "I'm a cop, and not good at saying pretty things, but it's true. You're just… perfect."
Her instinct was to point out all the things that were wrong with her, categorize all the flaws, both physical and emotional. To tell him that she was too pale, too short, too sickly looking, and that she wasn't perfect because she had wasted nine hundred years of life doing virtually nothing of importance. But the point was to stop recriminating, to live in the moment, to accept each day as is and enjoy it, so she held on to that, smiled, believing Nate. "Thank you."
"Scoot over."
She expected him to climb on the bed with her, snuggle up alongside her, kiss her. But of course that would essentially be foreplay to penetration, and they couldn't do that. It was logical, the action he took, but she was still wholly unprepared for him to get on the bed on his side. In the opposite direction of her, legs by her face, so that his head was right down by her… "Oh!"
Embarrassed by both the action and her verbal reaction, Gwenna bit her lip as his tongue slid across her clitoris. She honestly had not been at all prepared for that. Nor had she anticipated his penis would be lingering in front of her face in a not so subtle invitation.
They were on their sides. They were head to feet, both ends, on a massage table. And he was a casual acquaintance, if you could even call it that. She should be astonished at herself. Absolutely and utterly ashamed.
Gwenna licked the head of his shaft with her tongue, tasting the sweet sticky fluid there. No, she wasn't feeling particularly guilty, regretful, or cautious. If she'd got this far, she was damn well going to experience all the night had to offer.
He made sounds of encouragement between his own ministrations. Gwenna was a little overwhelmed by the simultaneous sensations of him stroking between her thighs with his tongue while she took the length of him past her lips. It was delicious, heated, frantic. They quickly found a rhythm, him sliding inside her at the same time his cock went deep into her mouth, and Gwenna lost the ability to think rationally. Bloody hell, he was everywhere, filling every part of her, tripping off little pings of ecstasy all over her skin, her clitoris, her vaginal muscles. She could feel the tightness building, enjoying the echo between mouth and inner thighs. It was so good, it was almost too much, everything everywhere all at once, and she pulled back, knowing she was going to careen over the edge and lose control.
Nate's thighs were hard and muscular and she focused on them, reaching forward and giving in to the urge to nip at his warm flesh. Her fangs penetrated, tiny beads of his thick, rich blood dripping over her tongue. Nate jerked a little, his tongue pausing on her, but she squeezed his cock with her fingers, relaxing him back into motion, loving the intimacy of his flavor, his essence rolling back into her throat. It gave her a hint of his thoughts, too, a small mingling of his emotion with hers, the acute sensation of his pleasure blending and flowing over into her as she sucked, not drinking, just tasting. While his tongue stroked her, she broke contact with his thigh, licking her lips to take in the last lingering drops of his blood. At the moment she let him go, he plunged deep inside her and Gwenna gave in to her need and exploded.
It was an amazing feeling, that sensation of leaving her body entirely, of losing all muscular control and flipping around recklessly, wanting to back away from the acute pleasure and at the same time to sink more completely into it. He clamped on to her thigh to keep her from catapulting off the table as he stroked and tasted, and she wanted to scream with the delicious pleasure of it all.
This was what it was to feel alive.
And as her convulsions slowed down, she leaned over and took Nate back into her mouth to give him the same feeling. Gwenna could admit she wasn't the most skilled with this form of sex, especially not lying on her side on a massage table, but Nate seemed to appreciate what she was doing with tongue and lips, so she kept at it, indulging her own curiosity by wrapping her hand around him and sliding up and down as a follow-up to her mouth. He felt wonderful, hard and tight with strength, and when he tried to pull back, she held on, not wanting to let go.
Her eyes were closed, but she knew when he was about to come, felt the tenseness in his body, heard his strangled groan. Then he was there, and Gwenna held on, enjoying the thrill of knowing she'd pushed him to that point, feeling the power of the pleasure between them, appreciating the taste and feel of him.
After a solid sixty seconds of them both just lying on the bed panting, Gwenna's mind a blissful blank, her body undergoing happy little aftershocks, Nate stumbled off the table. By the time Gwenna could formulate the question to ask what he was doing, he had climbed back on, this time his head by hers, and pulled the blanket over them. There was no hesitation on his part, he just moved in right next to her, pulling her tight against him, his arm securely across her chest, stroking the side of her breast.
He kissed her hair, above her temple, which suddenly made her want to cry.
"It's good to be alive, isn't it?" he said.
Gwenna knew what he meant. Knew that he saw death on a regular basis, knew he had to struggle with the finite nature of people, the constant sense of loss. She suspected that he didn't understand how to deal with a personal loss, like that of his sister, when he was so used to emotionally distancing himself with homicide victims.
"Yes, it is." She wiggled backward, getting closer to him, wanting that warmth, wanting that feel of his naked flesh pressed against hers.
They lay in silence for a minute, Nate's mortal heart beating even and steady, his chest brushing hers as it rose and fell with his breathing.
"A few months ago, I had this guy use me as a hostage." Gwenna wasn't sure why she spoke, but it seemed like if anyone would understand what she had been feeling, it was Nate.
"What? Are you serious?" Nate gripped her a little tighter. "What happened?"
It was easy to remember that moment when Gregor, a Russian vampire, had used her as a bargaining chip with Roberto. What wasn't easy was admitting how it had made her feel. "I stood there when he grabbed me, and he put this knife to my throat… and I have to tell you, at that minute I wanted to die. I wanted to just let him take my life and take this pain and guilt and boredom and make me go away. And I am so very ashamed of that."
Gwenna wasn't sure what she expected or wanted Nate to say, maybe acknowledge she was a horrible person for having such thoughts, but he actually said, "I doubt that's how you really felt."
"Excuse me?" Gwenna tried to move out of his grip, but he held on tighter. How could he dismiss what she had just said? It was a deep confession and he had the utter nerve to say she didn't mean it? "I absolutely did feel that way."
"You don't want to die, Gwenna… if you did, you would be dead already. But he played into your guilt, your sadness, and for a minute, maybe, you thought it would be easier to just let it happen, let it all go, leave this world. But he didn't and you were glad, weren't you?"
She sighed. "Yes. I'm glad to be alive."
"You've been through a lot." It wasn't a question, but a statement, his lips brushing over the top of her head.
"No more than anyone else." That was where her shame came from. She had held on to her grief, her pain. "After it happened, I realized how very selfish and shortsighted I've been… I can't and shouldn't control the length of my life, but I can control what I do in the time that I'm here."
Nate gave her a small squeeze. "Amen to that, Gwenna."
Gwenna stared at the wall, reflecting how odd, yet how right, it felt to be there, to have taken an opportunity and seized it, how interesting and intriguing it was to talk to someone she hadn't known for five hundred years. How pleasant it was to let her sexuality back out to play after keeping it in check for three centuries.
She wanted to say something, to think of some way to say thank you to Nate without sounding like a complete idiot, but she suddenly realized something else.
Nate was asleep.
And her phone was ringing again.