"The Devil's words, for sure," she said with a grin, but to his delight, she approached him.
He stood motionless, not wanting to scare her off by being too aggressive. Like all men of the territory, he hunted for his meat, and he knew when to lure and when to stalk. Now was a time for letting Mariel come to him.
"You're rather useless with your hands tied like that," she observed.
"Am I truly useless? Or do you lack imagination?" It was his turn to cock a brow. "Or is it bravery you lack? I thought you intended to become an airship captain? Last I heard, they weren't the shy type."
He stilled when her hand landed flat on his chest, between his nipples. "Still think I'm shy, Marshal?"
He smirked. "That's a touch you'd give a grandfather. Doesn't prove anything."
"I thought we were trying to prove that you're open to anything, not that I'm brave enough to molest you." He watched her bite her bottom lip. It drove him wild. He wanted to be the one catching that succulent flesh between his teeth and tugging gently. He wanted to hear her gasp into his mouth a second before his tongue slid into that wetness.
"Let's prove both," he said, his voice husky.
But she dropped her hand, her expression closing off. "If you think that just because Vellum and I—"
"I wish he hadn't touched you at all," he cut in. "Seeing you with him only made me jealous. It didn't make me think that you'd be easy, Mariel. Not by far. I have nothing but respect for you."
Her posture loosened. He watched her look him over again, assessing. Her gaze felt like the sun's rays as it poured over his shoulders and down his chest, down his abdomen to linger at his hips and the mound that was beginning to grow there.
"It's all so complicated," she murmured.
"I know," he assured her. "And I'm not looking to make it more so. In fact, I'm trying to make things real simple, Mariel. Just you and me."
But she smiled slightly, her gaze unfocused. "Not sure it's going to be as simple as that, Clay."
"Coffee's ready."
Clay's head jerked up. Vellum squatted beside the fire, studying the grounds inside the pot. Behind him, the crate lay open with its lid partially slid aside. The vampire hadn't made a sound as he'd risen. How much had he heard of Clay and Mariel's conversation?
Clay feared too much. The vampire had a vested interested in keeping Mariel infatuated with him. What would happen now that he knew Clay wanted to stop it?
"Drink up while I hunt you some food," Vellum said, his tone casual and friendly. His dark eyes revealed nothing as he added, "Then afterwards, we'll get on with feeding time, Marshal, just like you requested."
6
Clay wasn't the type of man to get lost in his head or talk himself into a state. You couldn't be if you wanted to be an effective Marshal. Too many times you had to simply act or react, with no thought to consequences or regrets. Hopefully, of course, you'd already sussed out the situation and made it as advantageous to you as possible. Meaning, you didn't place yourself in an idiotic position where you had no choice but to hurt someone.
Letting a vampire feed from him, however, wasn't a situation he'd thought out too well. Clay had simply blurted out the demand after he'd grown upset at seeing Vellum and Mariel together. Of course a lot of that impetus had been born of not wanting to see her hurt. Clay would be able to see for himself whether the vampire was lying about what a feeding was like. But some of Clay's impulse had been driven by a need to separate the two.
Jealousy. It wasn't an honorable emotion, but one even the best of men fell victim to now and again.
And now you're going to be a victim, alright.
He could hardly swallow the juvenile saberwolf meat that Vellum had caught and which Clay had cooked up. His stomach was tied in knots. Even Mariel seemed to be having trouble eating her share, until at last Vellum sighed loudly, breaking the tension.
"Something tells me I need to get this over with so you two can enjoy your breakfast," he said as he rose to his feet and walked around the fire to stand beside where Clay sat. He squatted there within reaching distance, a half-smirk on his handsome face. "You ready, Marshal? The sooner you learn what Mariel's been 'suffering', the sooner we can all get along."
Clay licked his dry lips. "Yeah. I'm ready, vampire."
Vellum, still smirking, glanced at Mariel. "You might want to draw a little closer."
"I don't need her to hold my hand," Clay gritted out.
"Your hand? Not at all." The look on Vellum's face made Clay want to punch him.
He gritted his teeth, hands curled into fists and resting on his thighs, as Vellum lightly placed one hand on the top of Clay's head and one on his jaw, beneath his chin.
"Tilt to the side, please."
So uncomfortable he could shout, Clay moved his head toward his shoulder, baring his neck.