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Struggling not to come, he wrapped his arms around her and gritted his teeth as he pressed his forehead against her chest. This was too much. It felt too f**king good, too f**king good to have any hopes of staying in control, he realized with a touch of fear. She wrapped her arms around his head, holding him where he was as she continued to ride him, continued to drive him out of his f**king mind and unfortunately for her, awakening another hunger that he had no hope of controlling……..
Not with her.
Her scent was so much stronger now, thicker, causing his breaths to come a little faster as he desperately searched for a breath of untainted air so that he could clear his head and gain some semblance of control, but with each breath, her scent saturated his lungs. He was losing control, so f**king fast and heaven help him, but he didn’t want to stop it.
*-*-*-*
“Christofer,” she gasped on a strangled moan as she felt her body clamp down, searching for something, anything to hold onto as-
Christofer suddenly stood up, which wouldn’t have been a problem, except for the fact that as he did it, he shoved her away, causing her to fall back and land on her ass. Dazed, she sat there trying to figure out what just happened as Christofer finally said the one thing that she’d been waiting all day to hear as he stumbled past her.
“Get the hell out of here.”
“What are you-”
“Get the f**k out of here!” he roared, taking her by surprise and causing her to jump back as she struggled to get to her feet to do just that when he suddenly grabbed his stomach.
“Fuck!” he snarled as he stumbled forward a few feet and dropped down on his knees.
Forcing herself to ignore the way that her body still trembled from his touch and the painful ache between her legs, she rushed over to his side as her training kicked in. He was sick, most likely from the diner food that he shouldn’t have eaten and he was embarrassed, not that she could blame him. Losing your lunch during a heavy make out session was probably a life-altering event, one that she was secretly relieved that she hadn’t been forced to experience.
“Christofer, let me get you a-”
“Run!” he snarled, but that wasn’t what had her stumbling to a stop or struggling to take her next breath.
It was the bright red eyes glaring up at her that froze her on the spot and had her heart racing. This couldn’t be happening, not now, not again. Swallowing back a scream, she staggered back, her eyes never leaving Christofer’s face.
“This can’t be happening,” she mumbled, barely aware that she’d said the words as she continued to stumble back when her mind was screaming at her to run and get the hell out of there.
“Fucking run!” he snapped, giving her a good view of a set of fangs that had her heart pounding in her chest. It also gave her the wakeup call that she needed to make her finally turn around and run away.
Unfortunately, by then it was too late.
Chapter 18
Williams Mansion
“I want a Coke,” Izzy sighed pathetically even as she smiled down at the three little boys curled up next to her on the nursery floor, fast asleep.
Her baby boy, Chris Junior, affectionately known as CJ, was curled up next to her on the soft Winnie the Pooh blanket that Madison had laid out earlier. Madison and Ephraim’s twin boys Deven and Hunter were fast asleep on her other side, curled up next to each other with a plush Eeyore doll between them. A soft snore drew her attention to the corner of the nursery where Marc was fast asleep with little Jessica in his arms.
She really didn’t know what she would do without him. He was such a sweet kid, always helping her, watching after Jessica and the boys without having to be asked. He never complained about Jessica following him everywhere or constantly demanding his attention. No matter what he was doing he would immediately stop when Jessica demanded his attention. It was really sweet….
And something that she needed to put a stop to, soon.
Guilt was tearing Marc apart and no matter what they said or did, he wouldn’t let it go. It wasn’t his fault, none of it was, but he couldn’t see that. He took the blame for her injury, Jessica’s scar, what had happened to Joshua, everything. He spent every minute of the day trying to make up for what happened, exhausting himself to the point that he was making himself sick.
They’d all tried to talk to him, to explain to him that none of it was his fault, but he wouldn’t listen. He thought he’d failed and he was doing everything that he could to make up for it. He was losing weight, had dark circles beneath his eyes and she couldn’t remember the last time that one of the babies had woken up crying, because Marc refused to leave them. They’d barely get the chance to open their mouths to let out a healthy cry and Marc would be there with a bottle and a clean diaper to take care of them and make sure that the adults were able to work and sleep throughout the night, undisturbed.
Ephraim and Chris had banned Marc from the nursery at night, telling him to get some damn sleep, but the kid never listened. As soon as his father and brother went off to patrol the town or had a meeting, he would sneak right back in the nursery. He’d give into Jessica’s demands and snuggle up with her in the rocking chair or on the floor where he would watch over the younger children for the rest of the night.
It was too much for a young child to bear and she was going to put an end to it just as soon as she figured out how to get through to the kid. The problem was, every time that she tried to talk some sense into Marc, he wasn’t able to look past her injury to hear what she was saying to him. Most of the time, it would actually make matters worse. He would get a tormented look on his face when her injury made itself known and storm out of the room, only to double his efforts to make it up to her.
What she wouldn’t give to hear Marc give one of them a smart-ass remark or find him slacking off and playing video games. She would love to see him-
“What the hell?” she murmured when an unexpected chime brought her attention back to the laptop perched on her lap.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she mumbled in disbelief as Tattletale opened a file to the left of the screen and then systematically grabbed every file, image and video that it could match to the image that it had found and grabbed from Facebook less than thirty seconds ago.
She watched in disbelief as old grainy images were posted in documents only to be cleaned up seconds later. Handwritten script and typed documents appeared beneath the pictures in what appeared to be German and a few other languages that she didn’t know. Before she could even consider running the documents through an interpreter program, Tattletale was translating everything in the blink of an eye even as it continued to search the internet, grabbing government documents, personal documents, bank account information, immigration documentation, only to finally end with another chime as it made its last match against the Sentinel blood supply system, letting her know that there was nothing left to find.
