6. Thirsty Bitch
Chapter 6
Thirsty Bitch
It wasn’t my idea of a romantic-mood starter, all this self-end talk, but it’d apparently done the trick. The very thing that plagued me since Green Dude rudely interrupted our post-date mood was happening again, right there on the side of the road.
Okay, so it wasn’t really a great place to make out. We’d definitely chosen the worst spot to rediscover our youthful vigor and baser urges. Passing cars and their passengers would agree it wasn’t a great time to exploit nothing but daylight and dirt roadside. But I didn’t care when Sloan’s mouth was quite literally a meal I couldn’t wait to devour.
His hands were in my hair, under my shirt, inside my pants. Really anywhere within reach he touched. Every caress was an act of desperation and need, until there wasn’t anywhere his hands hadn’t gone.
Had I mentioned how soft Sloan’s lips were? Well, by far the softest I’d ever kissed. And yes, I know I’d only kissed two dudes in total. How sad. But at this rate, my ho-bag days of tomorrow might lead to a baker’s dozen. Maybe that was the goal. So with the prospective kiss-ho label in my future, I sunk into Sloan’s kiss every time our mouths met.
The way his lips took the shape of mine and fused as though they were always meant to be there was sinfully hot. Like romance novel hot. It was clear as the seconds ticked on Sloan was eager to map out every crevice and groove in my mouth, the curve of my neck, and after yanking my shirt aside, the length of my shoulder. Each movement was a little stronger, a little more insistent, a little pushier, and I couldn’t help but moan my approval.
Super handsome dudes showcasing how sexy they found me and how much they wanted to touch me was apparently a turn-on.
The Brit’s eagerness fed my own, and it turned into a battle of who would be first to take it to the next level when my hands went after his shirt and pants, yanking and pulling to expose the petal-soft skin beneath. It was clear by the tent how hard he was for me, but I swiveled my hips for extra clarity. And his wanting groan and tensing jaw made the inner dominatrix in me proud.
My head fell back, the raging eroticism and arousal making my thoughts hazy and body weak as if slowly easing into a drunken stupor. Without pausing, Sloan traced my throat with his tongue and his fingers ate into my ass when he aggressively dragged me closer, snug against his rolling hips.
Oh God, that action alone was killer. The unparalleled stimulation between my legs, the pleasure and anticipation, remembering the overwhelming sensation of having his thick, throbbing length laying claim to every space inside me, it made it difficult to keep my own hips from swiveling over his with shameless encouragement.
The glass inside the car developed a thick layer of steam during our depraved activity, and it distracted me for a second when my hand swept a frantic line across its surface.
The air was humid and thick—a punishment on lungs that didn’t need to breathe. My face was insanely hot. And with how prone my skin was to showing color, I’d be stupid to think I didn’t look wholly debauched when I finally pulled away and tried, then subsequently failed, to get a firm hold on my sanity.
Not that I believed I ever had a stable hold on my sanity to begin with.
Sloan’s fingers gripped my thighs, and his lust-lidded eyes flicked up to mine, the burning desire to have me right there on the side of the road clear in his stare.
He’d do it. He wouldn’t stop or wait, and my pulse raced knowing it was up to me to say yes or no. And I wanted to say yes. Fuck, I wanted Sloan so bad that I’d spent hours planning how I’d bring it up and take what was mine. Have the sexy Brit again. Taste the pleasure only he could give me.
But it didn’t feel right here out in the open, on the side of the road for all to see. I might be desperate, but I wasn’t that desperate—at least that was what I kept telling myself as I struggled to put a stop to everything. When I straightened, tossing back messy red hair, the horn of the car erupted. Sloan’s eyes widened, his entire body stiffened, and I went into an awkward crouch in surprise.
“V?” he asked.
But it was too late.
My overactive brain kicked into high gear, and the previous shame and confusion came rushing back in. It was that powerful, crashing wave of guilt that inevitably forced me back into my seat. Not that I was ashamed of climbing onto the lap of a sickly hot and amazingly kind older Hunter, but I was a little concerned about how quickly I did it considering it wasn’t the time, place, or mood to have done anything even remotely sexual.
“Sorry,” I whispered, wiping my mouth and fixing my shirt. “This isn’t really the right situation for this. ”
Sloan gripped the steering wheel, then brushed through his chaotic hair. Hair I’d destroyed with eager fingers and grasping hands. His shirt bore signs of my desire to remove it, several buttons undone and his lapels no longer crisply laying against his collar. His belt was left open, the zip and button undone, brazenly exposing how hard he was for me.
My gaze dropped to his waist before I turned my head and closed my eyes tightly. The sound of shifting movement as the other Hunter put himself together assaulted my perfect hearing, but I did what I could to ignore it. I calmed the inner ho-ho. My head tried to convince me this was the right thing to do when my body screamed for me to get right back on that handsome Brit’s lap and finish what we started.
Unfortunately, the memory of the silky texture of his gorgeous dark hair sliding along my skin encouraged another barrage of shivers to take hold of my body. It was an attack I didn’t have a whole lot of experience tempering. Every sensation I shared with Sloan lived inside my head and body—a muscle memory of the most illicit nature—as if stored there for whenever my eyes caught sight of him. The same way it did with Phillip.
I’m definitely an addict.
I worked quickly to dispel the physical assault my own memory started, but it wasn’t easy when the object of my desire was so close, his heat still practically stroking mine.
“If anyone should apologize, it’s me,” Sloan finally murmured, his tone entreating and sincere.
I laughed, a little entertained by our joint awkwardness. “Can we just pretend this didn’t happen and get back to what we were doing? ”
Sloan’s eyes tracked back to where I sat, the light of day hitting them just right to give the pale color an almost iridescent glow. “One of these days, we’re going to have to discuss what this is.”
My hands clenched, and the subtle pound of my heart was in my ears. “But not today, right?”
His husky laughter was quite literally the most attractive sound I’d ever heard outside a few choice moans and groans. So when it filled the car, it was all I could do to contain my internal fan-girl scream.
I should be ashamed of how into Sloan I was, but it wasn’t new or surprising. I’d been mesmerized by the man from the moment we met. It would be weirder if I wasn’t spellbound by the gentle Casanova. Or maybe that was just an excuse I used to give myself the freedom to do what I wanted with him.
Shit, I don’t know anymore.
The more I thought about it, the worse my confusion got. Nothing made sense anymore. Not me. Not Phillip or Sloan. Not my future. Not a goddamn thing. Honestly, I was better off not thinking anymore. So far, all thinking ever got me was more questions and less clarity. Maybe I should give into my body and desire on this one. Or maybe I should vow a life of celibacy so I was never given the chance to fuck it all up.
Says the sex addict.
Yeah, there wasn’t any way I’d succeed in a life of celibacy. I’d sooner go weeks without running into a villain bent on my demise than go sexless, surrounded by all these beyond beautiful types.
“Fair enough, love. I know when to surrender, and something tells me you’re not ready to hear what I have to say on the subject.”
That was the understatement of the century.
Kris fingered purple curls away from her eyes, and her smile was absolutely bewitching when she finally came into view. Next to her was a man I didn’t recognize. He struck an imposing silhouette in daylight, large arms sculpted with strong muscle and chest cutting a powerful shape in a thin top. His raven-black hair was short and neatly combed over, perfectly framing a strong and stoic face. It accentuated a mouth that was fully plump and a magnet for the eyes.
Spontaneous thoughts and fantasies of what it’d be like to kiss him popped into my head before I was able to expel them with the strength of my shame.
Despite it being maybe forty degrees, the dude barely wore anything at all. Which meant he likely ran hot—and I meant his body, not his looks.
Okay, so he was super hot.
It wasn’t that I was thirsty for every dude who entered my field of vision, but most of the ones I’d met lately were quite literally gorgeous. Nothing like the high school boys I’d been around my entire life. Every guy was mysteriously attractive and appealing to my inexperienced eyes. All for different reasons. All with their own unique, impossibly alluring qualities. The cream of the crop.
Shit. I’m a thirsty bitch.
Still, this new stranger’s gentle brown eyes which slanted towards his eyebrows and perfect smile were a welcomed change to all the sarcastic male types parading around me lately. I knew better than to trust a first impression, though .
Sloan’s partner fixed her cleavage, which was ample and out of her shirt in a way that would make any person salivate. The woman knew how to draw the eyes. Her tight corset top shifted as she moved, and I stood stupidly frozen to the spot while she made her way over with the new stranger in tow.
Motioning to the handsome man beside her, the purple vixen greeted both Sloan and I with another gorgeous smile. “This is Sungho, the Shifter who found the vampire coven here. All of this area is his pack’s territory.”
When I spared a moment, I was absolutely obsessed with K-Dramas and their complex stories. Thanks to such a random obsession, I recognized his name as one I’d heard in a few Korean series I did manage to watch. It gave me an odd sense of excitement.
Not that it should matter. Humans weren’t the only roaming species, so racism wasn’t the same in our supernatural world. But it still existed. It was evident the Organization saw themselves as superior and created institutions here to perpetuate that culture, then categorized other creatures as bottom-dwellers and dangerous. After learning what I had about the Organization and their diabolical dive into genetic mutation, I no longer trusted anything I’d been taught over the course of my eighteen years. I’d been socialized by the very people who played God and ordered my parents’ deaths.
My entire life was a lie.
I eyed the Shifter with interest, who sported a form-fitting t-shirt and pair of jeans. Casual wear. Not exactly what I’d expect, but I’d discarded preconceived notions about this world a long time ago. Besides, Shifters needed to remove their clothes before turning into whatever beast they were .
If he had a pack, one might assume he was a wolf, but I didn’t know for sure anymore. I hadn’t read up on all the types of animals and beasties in the Shifter category, so I’d likely be wrong if I tried to assume anything.
My gaze slid from his face, down his body, then back up again. The muscles in his torso flexed as if he was under attack, but his eyes never strayed from mine.
Maybe I make him uncomfortable?
“Sungho?”
The strange man with obsidian eyes and a body lean with muscle crossed his arms, finally giving way to a soft, greeting smile. “You must be the girl everyone’s talking about.”
Oh, great. My reputation proceeds me.
“Can’t really say you’re wrong, but I’m curious what sort of things are being said in the Shifter circle,” I commented dryly, stealing a look at Sloan.
As expected, the other Hunter was devoid of emotion outside of courteous welcome. Not that I expected anything less from my older predecessor. Sloan played well with others.
Phillip would’ve been tossing out sarcastic commentary about Sungho’s lackluster appearance or boyishly good looks. He’d be breaking down who the newcomer was and what he could be coaxed into, or what he was capable of. Or maybe he’d be grinning like he was full of secrets.
Sloan, however, greeted Sungho with nothing but civility and respect. “Your help is greatly appreciated.”
“Our interests align is all,” Sungho remarked, eyes staying with me. “The sooner we get rid of these pests, the better it is for my pack.”
Kris giggled and sighed before offering me an exaggerated roll of her eyes. I couldn’t help but smile, having missed the woman’s eccentric presence after nothing but testosterone-toting dudes and their opinions for the last few months.
“You said there were nearly fifteen, including whoever leads them?”
The Shifter’s demeanor changed in an instant, and his smile disappeared. “That’s our guess, but nothing’s been confirmed.”
Sloan nodded. “Then that’s where we’ll start. Is your pack joining us, or will it be just you?”
Kris had a hand on her weapon, eyes scouting the area for any unwelcomed listeners.
Sungho stole a look at me once more, his square jaw tautening before he answered Sloan. “Just me. As you might suspect, the rest of my pack isn’t very happy we’re working with Hunters.”
Go figure.
“No need to explain,” Sloan responded, smiling. “We are grateful their alpha could be spared.”
So, he was the alpha. That explained his aura.
Sungho’s eyes strayed over to me again, and it was a look that unsettled me more than I would ever admit. I couldn’t decipher what it was or why he couldn’t keep his eyes off of me, but I did my best to ignore it. Because after this mission, it was very unlikely our paths would cross again.
“We’ll be at the greatest advantage during the daytime, and since sundown is quickly approaching, it’s better to start tomorrow after some rest.”
Sungho nodded his agreement, and without another word, disappeared. Still, the unsettling way his eyes roamed over me stayed with me long after he was gone.
I shook away the uncomfortable feeling and followed Sloan and Kris back to the car.