Gotcha.
He straightened and scowled down at me, and I was able to take my first full breath since he'd locked us in here. Perhaps he was right, and it was time to be honest with him. Maybe he would just tell me what I wanted to know.
"Okay. Fine. I'll play. What are you, Brogan?”
The cocky mask fell back over his face as he threw my question back at me. "What do you think I am? Other than an average guy just trying to make a living?"
Oh, there was nothing at all average about the male standing before me.
I bit my lip, my mind racing as fast as my pulse. No. I couldn't just blurt out the truth—that I believed he and the others were vampires. If I was wrong, he'd think I was insane. And if I was right, he'd know I knew the truth. And what if he wasn't ready to tell me?
I knew what. He'd do what he had to do to protect himself and his kind.
Me and my big mouth. I never should've said anything.
"I think you're just a man," I lied, my voice wavering slightly. "A very talented, very moody, very mysterious man. But a man, nonetheless."
He studied me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. I forced myself to hold his gaze, praying again that he wouldn't see through my deception.
Finally, he stepped back, and I fought the urge to sway toward him. "Alright then. If that's all I am to you, then I suppose there's no reason for you to keep coming around, is there?"
It was a challenge. A test. And one I knew I was going to fail miserably.
Because despite the danger, despite every instinct telling me to run, I couldn't stay away from him. From this place.
And I also couldn't tell him why. Not until I had more evidence that what I suspected was true.
3
BROGAN
I'd thrown down the glove, and now I waited to see if she was going to pick it up or just walk out the door and out of my life.
For a second, I thought for sure she was gonna choose the second option, and something sharp and unexpected twisted in my gut. But then she surprised me, as she’d been doing since the first night I saw her.
I watched, fascinated, as the uncertainty cleared from her expression and her eyes dropped to my mouth. The tip of her tongue wet her lips, making that fucking red lipstick glisten. Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths, and the blood rose to the surface of her skin, giving it a pretty pink flush. I barely held back my groan as the back of my throat began to burn with thirst.
A second later she stepped closer to me, her soft palms sliding up the outside of my forearms as her spicy sweet scent surrounded me like a cloud. I inhaled through my nose, breathing her deep into my lungs and imprinting her onto every cell in my body.
Fuckinghell.
Her thumbs grazed the sensitive skin at the bend of my arms, and my knees almost buckled. Then she lifted her lashes, her dark eyes holding mine captive, and my entire fucking world tilted on its axis at the raw need I saw burning there.
Her lips touched mine, feather-light at first, then more firmly as she leaned into me. I stopped breathing entirely for a few seconds as my mind went utterly blank. I'd fed from women so many times I'd lost count, tasted their desire with a kiss designed to throw them off guard, felt their warm blood on my tongue, but never had I wanted to devour someone like I wanted to devour Esme. Despite the fact that I'd just fed, I was suddenly so fucking thirsty, like I'd been starved my whole unnatural life, and she was the richest, most decadent meal I could ever imagine. Icravedthis woman with my whole soul.
Unable to stop myself, I pulled her closer, my hands sliding around her waist. And as she pressed her soft curves against me, every nerve ending in my body lit up like a bonfire, my gums aching as my fangs lengthened in response to the lust rushing through my blood.
Then, as quickly as it started, it was over. She pulled away, leaving me breathless and reeling and empty. I couldn't think, couldn't speak. I could only stare at her, my eyes wide, my heart pounding hard and fast.
"Esme…" Her name escaped my mouth before I could stop it. A plea. A question. An invocation. I wanted to kiss her again.Neededto kiss her. To block out the voices in my head that were already trying to intrude on this moment. I didn't want to think. Didn't want to let them in.
Her eyes softened, and for a moment, I thought I saw something like regret flicker across her face. But it was gone before I could be sure. She stepped back, smoothing her hair and tugging on her clothes with a casual elegance that only served to heighten my confusion and arousal. The material of her blouse was stained with my body oil on the tips of her breasts where she'd pressed against me, her nipples still hard. A low groan escaped me before I could stop it. Visions of Esme naked and covered in oil beneath me flashed through my head and I blinked hard, trying to disperse them before I tackled her onto the floor.
"I—I should go." Her words were a whisper, but the determination in her eyes contradicted the hesitance in her voice.
I wanted to protest, to pull her back into my arms and kiss her until we were both senseless. But as I stood there staring at her perfect face and the lipstick smeared across her mouth, I found I couldn't move.
Women are sacred…
