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Chapter 19
Piper
Blood. The sharp tangof it filled every orifice of my being. I stood in the dining room once more the trash bag in my hand but alone. Those cups I'd picked up weren't filled with the residue of the alcohol they'd been drinking but instead were overflowing with syrupy dark red liquid.
I glanced down at my hands and gasped, dropping the trash bag. My palms were coated red and shined from the freshly spilled blood. My pulse pounded in my ears, and I tried to rub it off on my pants, but it wouldn't come off.
Spinning on my heel, I raced to the kitchen. At the sink, I flicked on the sink. Putting my hands beneath the scalding water, I rubbed at my hands until they were raw, but still, it wouldn't come off. I cried and yelled out. I kicked the lower cabinets and sunk to the ground, burying my face in my arms and knees.
“Why, Miss Billings?” Antoine’s accented voice purred, and my head peeked up. “Why are you crying?”
Letting out little gasping sobs, I held my hands out. “I can't get it off. No matter how much I scrub it won't come off.”
Antoine knelt at my side, his pale hair falling over his shoulder and he bent his head over my hands. “I see,” he mused and then smirked at me, a hint of a fang showing. “I think I can take care of that.”
Without warning, his tongue darted out and lapped at my hands. The warm wet muscle stroked along my palms in a strange but somehow erotic manner. I squirmed in place but didn't take my hands away from him. For some reason, under Antoine's attention, the blood was coming off where the soap and water had done nothing.
When he pulled one of my fingers into his mouth, my lips formed an o-shape. My thighs rubbed together, and I begged the aching need forming there to dissipate. Antoine's nostrils flared, and his eyes flashed up to meet mine, a low growl coming from his throat as he moved in closer.
“Don't be so greedy, brother,” Wynn appeared at my other side, taking my other hand from his brother. His pouty lips parted, and his tongue darted out, trailing a line from my hands to my elbow. He seemed to care more about tasting every inch of my skin than the actual blood on it.
I sighed and wiggled a bit closer to Wynn. I wanted his mouth on me, those lips pulling on flesh far lower and aching with each touch of their ministrations.
Another low growl pulled my attention from the dark-haired Adonis to Rayne, who jumped over the island and landed before me. His ember eyes flashed red as he prowled up to me, his fingers closing in around my ankles, pulling my legs down and apart. His head dipped, and his eyes closed as he inhaled.
“Now that's what I call a wet dream.”
My eyes blinked at him, and my head cocked to the side. “What?”
The scene blurred around me, and my lashes fluttered open. A part of me sank at the realization that Antoine and Wynn weren't really there. That part was quickly replaced with relief at the absence of blood covering my hands and arms where I laid on my bed.
I let out a heavy breath. Well, it didn't take a genius to figure out what that dream had been all about. Vampires and hot men. Double trouble. A shiver of desire rippled through me, and I realized the need in my dream had passed over to the real world.
What was it that Rayne had said? I giggled a bit, shifting to my side to face the wall. Wet dream indeed.
Checking the time on the clock by the bed, I figured I had a bit more time before I needed to hunt down something to eat. I allowed my eyes to flutter shut once more, hoping to recapture the image of the three of them coming onto me all at once. Sure, Rayne was an ass, but a hot ass. And it's my dream! He doesn't need to know what I flick my bean to.
With a secretive smile, I slid my hand beneath the covers and dipped them between my legs, letting out a ragging groan as my fingers found my clit.
“Would you like a hand with that?”
My fingers stilled at the sound of Rayne's voice, my eyes shooting open. I sat up, utter mortification engulfing my very being. The bed shifted, and I twisted around to see Rayne's amber eyes inches from my face.
“What are you doing in here?”
Rayne's lopsided grin made my clit pulse, and I scowled to myself. Down, girl.
“It's not my fault you don't know how to lock your door.” Tipping his head to the side, his red hair fell over his eyes, his nose brushing along the curse of my neck. “I was walking back to my room and could hardly resist those sweet, needy whimpers you were making.”
“I was not,” I pushed him back with a glare, “and that still doesn't give you a right to come into my room without permission.”
“Actually, it does.” Rayne smirked at my confusion. “I'm your boss. I can go and do whatever I want. That includes...” He looped his fingers around the strap of my tank top and pulled it down over my shoulder. “... you, and now that you're staying, we'll have plenty of time to get acquainted.”
What the fuck was wrong with this kid? Did turning into a vampire make him lose all his sense of decency? I wasn't some piece of meat he could take a bite out of any time that he wanted.
You weren't singing that tune just a few moments ago, now were you?
Shut up. Dream Rayne and real-life Rayne are two totally different creatures.
