Chapter 11
I touch the tip of his ears, tracing the outer shell, loving that this vampire, this predator, blushes because of me.
Everything he told me, I should fear. A normal person would. I wouldn’t fault them if they did. I find the news that the paranormal world exists exciting. The unknown can be scary because we fear what we don’t understand. It’s natural.
I’ve always loved the unknown and learning every single thing I can about it.
“Do you like being called a good boy?” I ask him, pinching the tip of his ears again.
Oklahoma sips his tea, trying to hide his embarrassment or shame. “I suppose I do. No one has ever said that to me before.”
“Well, if it helps, I love being called a good girl just as much as I love calling you a good boy.” I scoop the last bit of soup from the container and lift it in the air.
His voice deepens, a rough vibrato singing its way to my heart. “Oh, Sugar, you are such a good girl. I can’t wait to show you just how good you really are,” he growls, the flames of his irises burning with desire.
Shy, I have to break eye contact to remember why I’m here to begin with. “One last bite?”
He licks his lips, a small amount of color staining his cheeks again. I’m so glad. He scared the living hell out of me when I saw him sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. I thought he was dead. I saw my life slow, my reason for the resurgence in my soul being taken from me.
I couldn’t let that happen.
Running to him was the only option.
I never want to feel that afraid again. The overwhelming sense of panic froze me in place, and then I needed to remember I had to get to his side to help him. Not even tornadoes instill that kind of terror in me.
He growls, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. “I hope it isn’t the last bite.”
The implication he adds has my body responding with hope that he will bite me. I crave it. Especially today. My skin is tender. Not painful. Not like his, but the ache is there. The thought of his fangs slicing into my flesh has lust pooling between my legs.
“Maybe if you’re lucky, it won’t be,” I answer, using the most sultry tone I have.
I shove the spoon between his lips to stop him from saying anything else. I won’t be able to handle another flirtation remark from him. I’m five seconds away from stripping him bare and having my way with him. Every part of me needs him in some way.
My body needs his hands on me. His lips on mine. His cock buried inside me to relieve the pain that is currently throbbing for his girth to stretch me, to take my breath. I want to gasp his name and forget to breathe.
Sweat drips down my back, and it isn’t even hot in here. The air conditioning is on, blowing through the vents in powerful gusts against my legs.
He leans against the pillow, another teardrop of blood escaping his left eye.
I reach over and wipe it away, my face inches away from his.
Our eyes meet. I’m lost in the red depths, charmed and allured by him.
The magic forming between us pulls me closer, and I press a gentle kiss to his cracked lips.
All the tornadoes I’ve chased have brought me here to him.
Whatever the storms that have brewed inside us must be the same.
“You should drink the rest of the tea.” I pull away, the space between us thrumming with heat. I’m not sure I can handle this much longer.
I unscrew the thermos, topping off his mug with more tea. He takes it without complaint, downing half in one gulp.
“Why am I getting so hot?” I fan myself and stand, stepping away from him to see if more space will help. “It’s unbearable.”
He frowns, sitting up to try to get to me when his pain stops him.
“Don’t.” I raise my hand to keep him in place. “Tell me the truth instead.”
“It’s called a mating heat. Our bodies are on overload right now. We’re craving each other, and if we don’t mate, we will die. Your body is preparing itself for me like I’m preparing myself for you. The heat will continue until…”
“Until?”
“Until you’re pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” I whisper, wondering how the hell I’m going to chase if I’m pregnant.
I shake my head, not wanting to give up my career because of this bond.
“Oakley, I wouldn’t stop chasing if I were pregnant, and I know what I do is an issue for you.
How would we get past that? How do I know I’m ready to be a mother? Why does it happen so fast?”
He tries to come to me, blurring a short distance.
Oklahoma runs out of energy and crumbles to the floor.
He shouts, punching the nightstand so hard that it snaps in half.
The lamp tumbles to the ground, shattering into tiny pieces.
The mug that was full of bitter melon tea tips over, the red-tinted liquid splashing onto the floor.
Blood drips from Oklahoma’s ears, nose, and eyes all at once.
“Oakley!” I’m by his side in the next step, wiping away the blood the best I can. “Why did you use all of that energy? Look what you did to yourself.” I hold back tears. The fear of losing him before I really get to have him hits me.
If he dies, I die.
I’ve never been afraid of death.
Now, I’m only afraid I won’t get to live life with whom the universe chose just for me.
“What were you thinking?!” I yell in Japanese. “You need to rest. I can’t live without you. Don’t kill yourself before I have a chance to love you!” I grip his shirt and give him a small shake, begging him to have a healthy life with me.
Our foreheads press together, his chest heaving with exertion. His fangs are showing, his tongue licking the left cuspid, his gaze lingering on my throat.
Now isn’t the time. I don’t want our mating to happen like this.
“Sugar, I don’t know what you’re saying. What is it? What’s wrong? I’d love to learn your language. It’s so beautiful. I could listen to you speak all day.”
My own tear breaks free, warming my cheek as it slides down to my jawline. Oklahoma is there, his lips kissing the droplet away.
“Even your tears taste good.” His words are a whispered breath, a phantom across my cheek.
“I said you need to rest. I can’t live without you. Don’t kill yourself.” I trace his lips, loving how they are shaped. “Don’t kill yourself before I have a chance to love you.”
“Oh, Sugar. I ain’t going anywhere. I was trying to get to you to reassure you.
I’m not a fan of storm chasing, but I’d never stop you from doing what you loved.
I’d trust you to make the right decisions for your safety.
I’d never ask you not to do something, but that won’t mean I’m not scared to watch you do it.
I’ll be terrified. One thing that will help is being able to feel your emotions. Similar to what I can now.”
“You can feel me?” I sniffle.
He nods slowly; the motion causing a drop of blood to spill from his nose.
“I can. Your worry, your fear, your happiness and confusion, but when you’re mine and claimed,” he growls, “I’ll be able to feel you even when you aren’t close to me.
I’ll be able to find you if anything goes wrong.
You’ll feel me too, like a warmth in your soul to keep you safe. ”
“I like the sound of that,” I admit, then turn away.
“What? Talk to me. You’re feeling something really heavy, Sugar. On a regular day, I can take it, but today, it’s making it a little difficult to breathe.”
I cover my mouth and scurry backwards to give him space. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright. It’s okay. You didn’t know.” His eyes hood with exhaustion, darkened clouds forming under his eyes.
“I’m worried you’ll resent me if I continue to chase.”
“I’d resent…” he gasps. “If…you didn’t.” The wheezes are deeper and longer.
I have too much to think about. This mating bond happens so fast. I barely have time to make sense of it. Well, not really, but pregnant? So soon? That wasn’t in my plan.
I’m open to it. I want children one day. Some day. I always thought they would happen ten years from now.
“Let’s get you back to bed. I’ll get you another mug of tea.” I help him to bed, taking it slow and steady, and he doesn’t protest.
He is pale again, his face losing all color. Death seems close with how grey he is, the natural shadows of his face more prominent.
“I’ll be right back with your tea,” I say to his still form.
“I’ll be here. I might shut my eyes for a few. I can’t keep them open anymore.”
So much blood is coming from them now.
I spin around as fast as I can, needing to hide my tears and bottle my emotions so he doesn’t feel it. I walk with determination and long strides down the hallway.
A few photos are hanging on the walls, and I stop when a certain picture catches my attention. It’s Oklahoma and another man. They are standing next to a vehicle clearly meant for storm chasing.
This must be his brother. Banks.
They both seemed so happy with how big and bright their smiles are. No wonder Oklahoma hates storms and chasers. His entire life changed in the blink of an eye, and he had to watch his brother die. The trauma alone would be difficult to live with.
And then to be changed into a vampire?
He must have lived a lonely life.
I’m here now.
And he won’t ever be alone again.
“I’ll take care of him, Banks.” I tap his face on the image. “He will be safe with me. I promise.” Giving the picture one last appreciative look, I continue my walk down the hallway.
The archway opens to a large kitchen on the left with all the new upgrades.
“Oh my,” I gasp, running my hand over the sleek concrete countertop.
There are all-new stainless-steel appliances and a copper sink.
The backsplash tiles seem old, maybe vintage, and if you step back, together, they make a sunset with green at the bottom and different shades of orange, reds, yellows, and pinks to create a horizon.
I bet if Oklahoma and I lay on the roof again, the sunset would look just like this.
Standing in the middle of the brand-new, barely used kitchen, I know this is my home. I sense it. This is where I’m meant to be. I imagine myself cooking all of my favorite meals for us.