Chapter 7 Starving for You
Starving for You
Sadie
Standing in the tavern, I stared blindly at the mass of socializing people. The smiling picture of Buck flashed on my phone. He was still eager to meet me, despite my ghosting him last weekend. He seemed like a sweet guy.
My stomach churned. I couldn’t do this. Swallowing thickly, I lifted my phone and typed out a brief apology to the werewolf. The idea of drinking from anyone made my skin crawl—anyone other than Rowen, that was. I was royally fucked.
Fangs aching and heart heavy, I stumbled out of the bar and trudged to my car. Soon, I wouldn’t have the option to turn down a meal, but tonight, I just couldn’t do it.
The drive home passed in a blur, and I collapsed into my room, not even taking the time to eat one of the muffins that Rowen kept insisting I take home.
If he fired me, I wouldn’t have any more of the delicious treats, and that turned my stomach sour.
Luckily, I was exhausted enough that sleep found me easily.
The next evening, I cleaned myself up, styled my hair, and put on makeup in an effort to look presentable for Rowen. If I turned up looking like a slob, it would be easier for him to let me go. And despite my imminent starvation, I wasn’t going down without a fight.
The bakery glowed with cozy light. I’d never worked anywhere this welcoming, and I wasn’t sure if it was Rowen’s grandmother’s energy filling the place, or if it was all him. The grumpy witch shouldn’t fill my ribcage with warmth, but he did.
Squaring my shoulders, I marched toward the brick building. The door chimed, and Rowen appeared in the kitchen entryway.
“Sadie,” he said roughly.
“Rowen, look, I’m really sorry about last night,” I started.
He held up a hand, palm toward me. “Don’t.”
My heart dropped into my ass.
Clearing his throat, he continued, “I’m the one who should be apologizing. It was really out of line for me to try to interfere with your plans, and I shouldn’t have suggested…anything.”
“No! It was really nice of you. I don’t know how things went so sideways. I just want to go back to baking together. I really love this job and I don’t want to lose it because we got into some silly spat.”
Rowen paused. His gaze honed in on my face, watching my lips and the way my nose wrinkled. “And you fed—you’re all good?”
“I’m great,” I said, keeping my voice level and giving him a flirty grin. The extra blush I applied helped to sell my lie.
“Okay,” he said, crossing his arms.
“Come on, we’ve got baking to do! Looks like the customers really cleared you out today,” I said, winking at him before sauntering past and into the back kitchen.
After a moment of hesitation, my grumpy witch followed me. The tension in my shoulders melted, and the energy in the room settled into peaceful camaraderie.
The first hour went smoothly, and I fell into the groove of mixing cookie dough and quick breads before preparing the cinnamon roll dough. As I spooned cinnamon sugar across the pillowy dough, my energy sputtered out. Locking my knees, I tried to prevent my body from swaying.
My stomach clawed at me, threatening to eat itself. Stuffing myself with three muffins and a ton of water that morning had only helped to a point. The lack of blood was catching up with me finally, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
Sucking in a deep breath, I steadied myself, but the room swam around me. My vision blurred.
Warm hands gripped my waist.
“Sadie,” Rowen murmured.
The heat of him at my back shredded the last of my reservations. Leaning back, I let him hold me up. He repeated my name, his volume and pitch rising.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “Just give me a moment. I guess I’m not feeling better like I thought.”
“You didn’t feed, did you? Dammit!” He didn’t wait for my confirmation. With one heave, he lifted me into his arms. My head fell against his chest, and distantly, I appreciated how firm he was under my cheek.
“No, I’m fine,” I argued, my voice breathy.
“Bullshit. Don’t lie to me.”
My surroundings came into focus, and Rowen’s body rocked slightly as he began climbing stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you up to my apartment. You can’t lie down in the bakery.” His answer was gruff, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to not cry.
A door squeaked, and then Rowen settled me onto a squishy sofa. The caramel scent of him was softer here, mixed with cozy wood and clothing detergent.
“Just let me rest a minute and we can get back to work,” I muttered.
Silence stretched between us, and I peeked through my lashes at Rowen. He knelt beside the sofa, his chest level with my head.
“We both know you need blood.” His deep voice triggered goosebumps prickling across my skin.
“Well, I’m an idiot and didn’t feed last night, so I’m shit out of luck,” I said, refusing to acknowledge what he was getting at.
He made a harsh noise in his throat. “Bite me.” He held his wrist up, his relaxed fist hovering over my chest.
“Rowen, I can’t ask that of you,” I protested, knowing this was a losing battle.
Even though we both knew it was a bad idea, he wouldn’t give up. If I wanted to avoid this, I should have drank from Buck last night. Now I was desperate and weak, and Rowen smelled so damn good, like caramel and butter.
“Stop being so stubborn,” he growled.
My brows furrowed as I looked up at his determined expression.
“Sadie, this won’t endanger your job. It’s an outside arrangement, okay? Besides, this started between us before you worked for me.”
I had no argument for that. My fangs ached, and I could smell his scent drifting off his skin. I wanted my mouth on him so badly.
With shaking hands, I gripped his wrist, my thin fingers curling around his freckled skin. He was so warm and solid. He guided his wrist to my mouth.
“What if I hurt you? I’m starving, and I don’t want to drain you. What if I lose control?”
His throaty laugh jolted me out of my haze.
“Darling, your stomach can’t hold that much blood. You’ll get full long before I’m in any danger.”
“What?”
“It would take a very hungry vampire a lot bigger than you to pose any risk to me. The worst you can do is make me a little dizzy. I don’t know much about vampires, but I do know that.”
My mouth fell open, and Rowen took the opportunity to bring his wrist closer. Instinctively, I pressed my lips to his skin. My tongue darted out to taste his warmth and sweetness.
His breathing quickened, and I realized I was effectively French-kissing his wrist. A flush rose up my neck. Shoving my embarrassment aside, I touched my fangs to his skin. His forearm muscle flexed under my hold, but he didn’t move.
“Go ahead. I want you to.”
With an inhale, I pierced his skin, sealing my lips over the bite. The tingle in my gums told me I was dosing him with vampire venom.
Rowen leaned forward, his other hand splaying across my torso, fingers curling at my waist. His head dropped, magenta hair falling over his closed eyes.
“Damn, that feels so good,” he muttered. His breath was hot on my stomach through the thin fabric of my shirt.
My own eyes pressed closed, savoring the taste of him as his blood flowed into my mouth. I drank it down greedily.
Assuring myself he would be fine, I let myself drink freely.
He was delicious, that fizzy raspberry taste of his magic filling up my veins with power.
My venom wasn’t addictive, but his blood might be.
No wonder I kept refusing to drink from anyone else.
He tasted incredible, and my body flushed with oxytocin.
I wanted to let him wrap me up in his arms and hold me until the end of time.
A feeling of satiety washed over me, and I dragged my tongue over the punctures, closing them up. Chest heaving, I let his wrist drop to rest on my ribcage, beside his head.
His other hand squeezed my waist as his head came up, honey eyes hazy with pleasure.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice raspy.
A beat passed, and his long lashes fluttered as he blinked once, twice. With a small shake of his head, his eyes focused on me again.
“Sadie, I don’t want you drinking from anyone else. Let me be your person.”
“I can’t agree to that,” I said. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“How about just until things change?” he asked. “For a while. Let me take care of you.” His throat worked, and I desperately wished he would kiss me. My body was humming, needy for him as his blood rushed through my veins. My hands clenched at my sides.
Rowen’s gaze flickered between my eyes and my mouth, making it so much harder to stay in place. Instead, I looked past him at the apartment I was too dazed to take in when he first carried me here.
“Are you hungry for food too?” Rowen asked softly. “I’ll make you something.”
“We should get back to our job,” I replied.
“Sadie,” he rumbled, rocking back onto his heels and rising. I looked away before I could get an eyeful of his crotch.
He disappeared into another room, and I pushed myself up to sit. Already, energy flowed through me, strength pushing out the weakness I’d been living with on and off since I was turned.
So this was his apartment. I could have gone back here with him that first night. The fact I’d ended up here anyway made me huff out a breathy laugh.
A television sat on a long cabinet on the far wall, framed by bookshelves full of squashy mass market-sized novels. The spines looked like a mix of sci-fi and mystery.
The entire place felt like a bachelor pad, but the coziest, most comfortable, and cleanest bachelor pad I could imagine.
“Feeling better?” Rowen asked, reappearing with a bowl in each hand.
Nodding, I accepted it. Gooey, creamy macaroni and cheese filled it to the brim. Rowen settled beside me, stirring his own pasta with his fork.
“So does this count as our lunch break?” I asked, wrinkling my nose as I smiled at him.
The tension in his frame relaxed, and he took a big bite of pasta. “If I say yes, can I feed you every night during our break?”
Shaking my head, I grinned at my bowl. “You are ridiculous.”
“Look,” he said, shifting in his seat to face me, one knee coming up. “I was serious. You don’t need to waste any time or effort finding people to feed from. Just drink from me.”
“Rowen,” I protested.
His lips pulled into a smirk that had my heart stuttering. “I promise, I enjoy it. And it’s one less thing you need to worry about.”
Stabbing my fork back into my pasta, I gave him a scrutinizing glare. “Why are you so concerned about me?”
Brows furrowed, he stared back at me. “You’re my employee.”
“Nope, that’s not a good reason. Bosses don’t usually ask their employees to bite them and drink their blood.”
“I guess you would know,” he murmured, that smirk returning. “Maybe I’m just a really nice guy.”
Scoffing, I sat back against the cushion, scooping another bite of macaroni and cheese into my mouth.
“Great. Now finish up your dinner and we can get back to work,” he said, holding up his bowl to show it was empty.
I made a show of rolling my eyes, but the pasta was delicious and I really was hungry, so it didn’t take long for me to eat every last bit.
“Are you sure you had enough blood?” Rowen asked solemnly.
“Rowen, I drank way more than I usually do. I’m probably good for like a week,” I said, shrugging as he took my dirty bowl from my hands.
He twisted back to frown at me. “No. You’ll drink from me every day. You aren’t risking getting weak and hungry like that again.”
“That’s not necessary!”
“Just for a while,” he amended. “Until you aren’t looking so—” He cut off.
“So what?” I asked, rising to my full height and propping a fist on my waist.
The kitchen witch swallowed. “You’ve been getting thinner.”
“So?” I demanded. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Lots of women would be thrilled.”
His eyes darkened. “It’s not okay if you’re wasting away from thirst. I won’t let you do that again. I can’t.”
Something dominant flickered across his face. There was nothing I could say when he was this deadly serious.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Honey eyes rose to meet mine. “Thank you,” he said finally.
“You’re so bossy,” I said, my sass coming back with my energy.
Now it was Rowen’s turn to roll his eyes, but his hand went to the small of my back as we headed back downstairs to his bakery. His steady presence was slowly but surely breaking down my barriers, and more than anything else, that scared me.