Chapter 17 Cord
ASHER’S LAST WORDS rattle around in my head.
Next time…
What makes him think there will be a next time? This time was a mistake. I was tired, horny, and frustrated, and he was…
Convenient.
Even as I think it, I know that’s not true. Why did I even agree to meet him if I wasn’t going to fuck him? Isn’t that how every encounter between us ends?
And damn him, but he does know me. Knows what I like.
What I need.
Edging me.
I tuck myself in and zip up my pants, then turn to face him, ignoring the sly smirk on his face.
“You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I snap, harsher than I intend.
He shrugs. “And we’re back to that.”
I run my fingers through my hair and sigh. “Sorry. Let’s just…”
What? Kiss goodbye? Pretend this never happened?
Continue this somewhere more private?
I push this last thought from my head. I really don’t need this complication right now. Why does it always come back to him?
Even when we were apart, not seeing each other for all those years, he was never far from my thoughts. Too many shared memories, too many firsts.
Too much pent-up sexual angst.
He’s fucking ruined me.
I tried to move on. Tried to lose myself in random strangers. It never worked.
He’s the only one who can scratch that itch.
Isn’t that what he said to me?
The fucker.
“Come on,” I say, leading him back through the door into the bar. Someone else is sitting at our table, but I wasn’t planning on staying. I need to go home and crash for a few hours before I drop. Even vampires can’t run on empty.
And let’s not even get started on the last time I fed. I’ve been surviving on the bagged blood from Dante’s refrigerator at the warehouse.
When I stumble into a bar stool, Asher grabs my arm to right me then leans closer. “Give me your keys.”
“What?” I stare at him. “Absolutely not.”
“You’re exhausted. I’ll take you home, get you fed and a few hours’ sleep.”
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m serious, Cord. Let me take care of you. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
The truth is, I know he’s right. Despite his annoying criticism of every fucking thing I do, Asher has always been the one constant I could depend on in my life. Would it be so bad to let someone else take the reins for a while?
I dig my keys out of my pocket and slap them into his hand. “Fine. But this better not be a ploy.”
He grins. “I promise there are no ulterior motives.”
Yeah, right.
It feels weird to ride in the passenger seat of my car. I start to make some crack about Asher not being able to drive since he’s always being chauffeured around, but I know for a fact he used to drive back in the day.
Before the Clan.
Before we got to the city and he started working for Carlyle.
Still, it’s been a while and that fact is obvious as he edges out into traffic and old-lady’s his way down the street.
“Jesus, we’ll never get there at this rate,” I mumble.
“Are you in that big of a hurry?”
“That’s not the point.”
Asher snorts and ignores me. I might have dozed off for a second–no doubt due to his somnambulant pace–but I jerk awake when I see the parking garage we turn into isn’t the one at my apartment.
“What the fuck?”
“I said I’d take you home. I didn’t say which one.”
“Damn it, Ash, you said no ulterior motives.”
“Stop bitching. The sooner we get inside, the sooner you can get to bed.”
“I should’ve known I couldn’t trust you,” I grumble as I get out of the car.
He smiles at me sweetly and leads me through the door into the lobby. The concierge nods at us as Asher makes his way to the private elevator and punches the button. The door opens immediately. Before he enters, he turns back to the concierge.
“I’ll be expecting some visitors soon. Send them up when they get here.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Winston.”
Visitors? “What visitors?” I ask as I follow him into the elevator.
“Donors.”
I start to protest, then shut my mouth. I’ve never had my food delivered. Hell, most times, when I indulge in live at all, it’s a quickie in an alley. Thinking about it, I guess I spend a lot of time in alleys.
When we get inside the apartment, Asher points me toward the door to his bedroom. “Bathroom’s through there. Go take a shower. There’s a clean robe on the hook.”
A shower. I can’t remember the last time I was home to take one. Was that days ago? Do I smell that bad?
Asher’s shower is like a car wash, with heads all over the place and steaming hot water. I might have stayed a little longer than I planned. It’s with supreme regret that I finally emerge and dry off, wrapping myself in the oversized fluffy robe. I could get used to this.
I arrest that thought as soon as I think it.
This is only temporary.
Asher is lounging on one of the couches when I enter the livingroom, sipping a glass of amber liquid that I’m sure is McCallan. It’s his drink of choice, when he isn’t joining me in a vodka.
Speaking of vodka, there’s another glass on the coffee table. I glance behind him at the island and spot the bottle of Belvedere. Asher does like his top shelf liquor.
I plop down on the opposite couch and pick up the glass, savoring the warmth as it slides down my throat.
“Better?” he asks.
“A little.”
The elevator door dings and Asher stands up. “You’re about to feel much better.”
The two young men who enter the apartment are dressed to kill. No one would ever suspect what they’re here for. They sure don’t look like any donors I’ve ever dealt with, but then, most of my interactions with donors have come from Dante’s blood dens, which are basically vampire brothels.
One of the men starts to undress and Asher stops him, an edge to his voice when he says, “Just feeding tonight.”
I smirk. Feeling a little possessive, Ash?
Part of me wants to fuck with him and take what’s offered, but I don’t have the energy for that scene. Besides, I’m still recovering from the edging Ash put me through earlier. Maybe if I wasn’t so tired…
“Are you sure?” the man asks.
“Yes,” Asher replies. “Take good care of him.”
Before I can sit up, the man lowers himself to his knees in front of me. Asher produces a scalpel and hands it to me and I sit forward to make the cut.
Drinking blood is a necessity to a vampire, making it our version of a meal. If that’s the case, I’ve been living on ramen and what’s being offered to me right now is the equivalent of a porterhouse.
From the first scent of the donor’s blood, I can feel my hunger roar to life. The man’s neck is suddenly the center of the universe. Everything else fades into the background, including Asher and whatever he’s doing with the other man.
I press my lips to the cut and take a second to savor the taste. Rich, luscious blood. No tinge of drugs or disease. It’s as close to perfection as it can get.
Is this how Asher feeds every day? No wonder he has the energy to fuck with me.
My first instinct is to gorge myself, but even in my undernourished state, I know that’s not permissible.
Damaging any sanctioned donor is cause for punishment.
I’m sure the penalty for overindulging in one of these is far worse.
Knowing Asher, these men come from the White Guild den, the cream of the crop.
Five star dining.
I drink my fill, mourning the loss when I finally pull away.
“I didn’t hurt you?” I ask him, trying not to sound like a newb.
He smiles at me and dabs at his neck with a handkerchief he pulls out of his pocket. Who carries a handkerchief these days? “You did just fine.”
He rummages in his bag for a protein bar, unwrapping it and taking a big bite while he waits for Asher to finish up with his partner. I slump back on the couch, sated and content. It’s the best I’ve felt in weeks.
Asher tips the two men as he shows them to the elevator. When he comes back to the livingroom, he looks at me with an unreadable expression.
“What?” I ask.
“Let’s get you to bed.” When I start to protest, he adds, “To sleep.”
Asher’s king-size bed is like a cloud. I sink into it and immediately feel myself being dragged under. I’m vaguely aware of Asher gathering my clothes, then everything goes dark.
? ? ?
I awaken slowly and take inventory of my body. I feel…good. I don’t know how long I slept, but I feel well-rested, and there’s none of the usual dull ache of hunger clawing through my veins.
I open my eyes and look around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Reality comes back to me slowly.
The bar. The alley. The donor.
Ash.
I glance to my side and see that while the bed has been slept in, there’s no sign of him there. I stretch and take a deep breath, and that’s when I smell it.
Coffee.
The scent pulls me up. My clothes are clean and folded on the bench at the foot of the bed.
I get dressed and make my way out to the livingroom, where Asher is standing with his back to me at the window, a cup of coffee in his hand.
He’s dressed in black slacks and a button-down blue shirt, his suit jacket draped over the back of a bar stool. Dapper, as usual.
He turns to me and smiles. “Sleep okay?”
I rub my eyes. “Yeah.” I point to his cup. “Is there more of that?”
“On the counter.”
There’s an empty cup in front of a fancy coffee machine. I pour myself a coffee and take a sip, savoring the taste. Like everything else Asher, this is the good stuff. Probably sourced the beans from some boutique farm in the high Andes or something.
“What time is it?”
“Close to ten.”
Ten? Shit. I must’ve been exhausted. “Aren’t you late for work?”
“I’m the boss. I’m allowed to be late.” He crosses the room and sets his now empty cup down on the island and meets my eyes. “I want you to promise me something.”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously. Promise him? I don’t like the sound of that, but he did allow me to sleep without bothering me, so maybe I can at least give him the benefit of the doubt.
“I’ll listen. No promises.”
He considers that for a moment then shrugs. “I guess that’s the best I could hope for from you.”
I take another sip of coffee and wait for him to continue.
“What you’re doing right now, looking for this Outlier boss, is dangerous.
If you need anything–a safe place to crash, a friendly ear, a source of blood, a ride, or…
stress relief,” he adds this last with a smirk, “remember I’m here.
I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you and I was in a position to prevent it. ”
“Like I told you before, Ash, I’m a big boy.”
“I know that, but–”
“But that being said, I appreciate the offer.” I’m not a total dick. I can see he’s sincere.
He exhales and nods. “I spoke to Elaine this morning. She hasn’t come up with anything on the Python, but she’s still looking.”
That doesn’t surprise me. It’s as if this guy is a ghost.
I finish my coffee and set the cup in the sink. “I guess I should get out of your hair so you can go to work.”
“No hurry. I’m…kind of enjoying having you here.”
I grin at him, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll bet you say that to all your sleepovers.”
“There’s been no one since you.”
I did not need to hear that, nor witness the sadness in his eyes. The moment passes awkwardly. I spot my jacket slung over the back of the couch and reach for it. My keys and phone are on the end of the island. I stuff them in my pocket then look up at him again.
“Okay, so I guess I’ll head out.”
“I’ll walk down with you,” he says as he slips on his jacket and grabs his briefcase.
When we get to the elevator, he turns to me before it arrives and leans forward, planting an open-mouthed kiss on my lips. The move surprises me so much I don’t have time to react.
He pulls back with a smirk. “I deserved that after letting you sleep unmolested beside me all night.”
We get into the elevator while I resist the urge to touch my lips. Just for a minute, I consider returning the favor, but push that impulse aside.
Damn, Asher.
I do not need this distraction.