Chapter 16
Damon
When Brittany—Star—wandered out from the breakroom twenty minutes later smelling even better than when she’d gone in there, the first thing she did was ask Max if she could go home early.
Aside from her oddly disheveled appearance, I couldn’t help noticing how she barely met his gaze while speaking, and didn’t look at me at all.
Is she still upset over her so-called friend?
Or because I acted like a total creep?
Of course, Max said yes, although I could tell it pained him to let her out of his sight. I’d had to listen to this man obsess over this human’s every move for hours on end. If he now believed someone was threatening his new obsession, his protective instincts would kick into high gear.
Just like yours did, Damon?
Fuck.
Star had looked so vulnerable after sharing her story, I’d reacted without thinking—cornering her like prey. Instead of draining her dry, however, I’d found myself wanting to feast on her in an entirely different way.
Like how Max wants to.
Like how he already feasts on me…
Unbidden, I recalled how her pupils had dilated when she’d discovered what Max enjoyed reading—how she’d scented the air with her arousal at the thought of two men together.
Perhaps at the thought of us specifically.
That her horniness could inspire my predatory instincts irritated me beyond anything I’d experienced since she’d invaded our store three weeks ago.
Things were so much easier before Star—Brittany—arrived!
With a frown, I stalked to where a customer was perusing the factory-produced band T-shirts we carried, which only annoyed me further.
If it was up to me, we’d clear out any item you could find elsewhere in this budget mall.
Max might be fine with giving the consumer sheep what they wanted, but I would have preferred to give the real punks what they needed.
Fashion to challenge the status quo.
We had the connections and the means to do it, but Max had never mentioned evolving the Sizzling Discourse brand.
I assumed this meant he was leaving it up to me—supporting my interests in that silent yet still somehow heavy-handed way of his.
This only mildly annoyed me at first, but the longer I went without even attempting to follow my dreams, the more I realized I had only myself to blame for feeling stuck.
Then Star showed up, and I strongly suspected Max’s decision to hire her was just another example of him always thinking he knew what was best for me.
So what if he’s usually right?
“You don’t want that crap,” I growled at the purple-haired hardcore girl plucking at a generic Misfits tank. “Check out our deconstructed pieces over there instead.”
She glanced at the nearby rack before letting her gaze roam over me. “Righteous. Thanks for the tip. I might need some help in the dressing room, though…”
I looked her over in return. A few weeks ago, I would have immediately said yes—more than happy to fuck my self-loathing away while Max calmly read his smut and listened in with his vampiric hearing.
While plotting to fuck me harder that night in response.
We’d been playing a consensual version of this game since I’d still been human, although it had lost some of its appeal over the years. Part of me wondered if that was because of how often Max told me there was nothing I could do to break our bond… and how often I wished there was.
For his sake, not mine.
That we were a full century into our relationship and I still felt unworthy of his undying devotion had nearly driven me to despair.
Max deserved better. He deserved a pretty little mate to dress up and fawn over—one who would welcome his adoration while still giving him the chase and challenge he craved.
Someone like… Star.
Like how I used to be…
At first, I’d assumed jealousy as the driving force of my animosity toward the human, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I was envious of how sure of herself she was. How she presented herself to the world.
How she’s allowed to present herself.
There was a time I’d felt the same, but over the years, insecurities both old and new had chipped away at my confidence—a confidence Max had helped me build in the first place. And he still provided that, but mostly in the bedroom, and completely by my own design.
Nowadays, the only thing that allowed me to get out of my own head was when my mate was fucking me senseless or when I was fucking my pain into someone else.
But I no longer want anyone else but Max.
Well… except one other person..
Now, all I could see were Star’s baby blues gazing up at me when I’d cornered her. All I could smell was her wet cunt and her anger combined with her millions of flowery hair products, and I was suddenly not at all interested in a random hookup in the Sizzling Discourse dressing room.
Sigh.
I want Star, don’t I?
“Are you feeling okay?” Max knowingly smirked after the Misfits girl left the store. “I was looking forward to punishing you for that later.”
I grunted noncommittally, even if what I wanted to ask was whether he was sure our new employee was a human at all, and not some siren luring us to our deaths.
Good thing we’re already dead.
“Still giving me the cold shoulder, hmm?” He allowed his fangs to extend before running his tongue over all four sharp points.
Drawing blood.
My vision tunneled on the sight, my own fangs lengthening instinctively, before the chilling implication hit. “You fed without me?”
Max’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, although I couldn’t be sure if it was in response to me actually stringing four words together in his presence or to the question itself. It didn’t matter either way because unexpected panic was flooding my empty veins.
I was so old, I didn’t need to feed often anymore—and Max rarely needed it at all—but I’d been under the impression that the hunt was one of the few things we still enjoyed doing together.
Have I finally pushed him away for good?
“Yes,” he bluntly replied, and for a moment I forgot he couldn’t read my thoughts—not that he made a habit of it when he could.
“During my break earlier, I gorged myself on a wino passed out in the alley. I…” He retracted his fangs and blew out a slow breath, looking as unsteady as I’d ever seen him.
“I need to stay fed around Star, Damon, so I don’t… turn her before she’s ready.”
WHAT?!
“You’re planning on turning her?” I hiss-whispered. “Were you going to discuss any of this with me before creating our third?”
The damning words were out before I could stop them, but I was livid.
I was ready to go on a rampage through the mall, ripping out the throats of everyone I saw.
The worst part was that I didn’t know what I was more upset about: Max possibly looking to replace me—and how that no longer seemed to match what I thought I’d wanted—or that he hadn’t consulted me on the plan in the first place.
…or that I hadn’t thought of it myself.
“Of course I was going to discuss it with you first—but that would require you talking to me at all.” Max scoffed and crossed his arms, his famous patience wearing thin. “And does this mean you’re open to a third? I was under the impression you weren’t even interested in being a pair anymore.”
Asshole.
I threw my hands up in exasperation—mostly at myself. “Max, you know damn well what I’m interested in! I’m still here, aren’t I?!”
“Barely,” he murmured, almost inaudibly, and my self-loathing was so intense, it felt like I’d stepped into full sunlight.
Suddenly assaulted by a whole bunch of other shit I didn’t want to examine, I growled and stomped toward the breakroom. Once there, I wrenched open the secret door by the utility box and entered our nest—needing to get into my coffin before I did something embarrassing.
Like fall to my knees and apologize.
The instant the cool, damp air hit me, I somewhat relaxed, but then went on high alert as a foreign scent drifted to my nostrils.
Star.
She… didn’t infiltrate the nest, did she?
Shaking my head, I banished the thought. There was no way the human had found her way back here or discovered what we were. I was just being paranoid because of all the infuriatingly confusing emotions running through my parched veins.
Feelings.
Gross.
My mouth was watering at the thought of Max being full of fresh blood, but I refused to go back out there just to be near him again.
It’s better for me to be alone.
Better for everyone.
I sighed as I reached my coffin, wondering—not for the first time—why Max had imprinted on me in the first place. He could have had his pick of anyone during the centuries he’d been around before meeting me, yet he’d bound himself to someone who couldn’t give him what he needed.
But maybe Star can…
Maybe she can help me give him what he needs as well.
Back when Max and I first learned of “thirds” through the coven, we’d had a long conversation about the possibilities.
While he’d always found pleasure watching me with someone else—and I reaped the consequences of him reclaiming me afterward—I’d never been open to the same, and since that worked for both of us, that had been the end of the discussion.
However, the thought of him with Star was doing all sorts of unexpected things to me.
As if conjured by my thoughts, her scent hit me again—infuriatingly magnified as I climbed into my coffin and settled in.
Fuck, it smells like she rubbed herself all over the satin.
And why do I love that so much?
With a groan, I unbuttoned my jeans and shoved them down my thighs.
My throbbing cock sprung free—my balls aching with the need to spill—and I squeezed my eyes shut in relief as I began to stroke.
I’d never understood exactly how I was still able to get it up with no blood of my own, but I had no interest in jinxing myself by questioning it.
Because an eternity without orgasms would be hellish.
“Starting without me, pet?”