17. Selene
Chapter 17
Selene
I slam the car door shut, the anger pulsing through me like a raging fire. I tear into the last blood bag, draining it in record time as I speed down the empty streets towards home.
Thankfully, Annie isn’t here. She’s been picking up more shifts at the hospital lately, which suits me just fine. I need the solitude right now.
But even in the quiet confines of my own home, I can still smell him on me. Liam’s scent lingers, tantalizing and maddening all at once. It makes my mouth water, my fangs itching to sink into his flesh.
I try to push the thought aside as I settle into my research. I need a distraction, something to occupy my mind and keep me from dwelling on him.
I delve into the depths of the Internet, scouring for information on the Night family. Liam, in particular, piques my interest. I learn that he’s the firstborn son of Gabriel Night, with siblings named Layla, Grayson, and Colt.
There isn’t much information on Colt, but Layla catches my attention. She’s the one who took over Night Corp, the family company. The name sends a shiver down my spine, reminding me of my own father’s company and how much he loathed Gabriel.
But it’s the mention of Grayson that truly intrigues me. I realize that I never knew Liam or Grayson because my family moved away from town after my father’s death. Levi, my brother, sold our father’s company and whisked us away, ensuring that our paths never crossed.
The realization leaves me feeling strangely hollow. It’s as if a piece of my past has been erased, replaced by a void I can’t quite fill. And yet, despite everything, I can’t shake the yearning I feel for Liam, for his blood, for his touch.
I shake my head, trying to clear away the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. But deep down, I know that he’s under my skin now, and there’s no escaping the pull he has on me.
I decide that the first thing I need to do is take a shower and rid myself of his scent.
I walk to the small bathroom in my room and begin to undress. I picked the most comfortable clothes in my closet, but deep inside, I wish I had chosen something different.
Sexier maybe?
Is it the blood manifesting as horniness?
I strip off my clothes, and I am surprised when I notice that my panties are wet.
Fucking hell!
I toss them in my laundry basket and step into my shower. The cold water pelts over my skin.
I let my hair down, letting the water soak me through. Then I pick up my lavender body wash, pour a generous amount, and begin rubbing it into my skin.
My thoughts immediately go to the muscular hand that had been pressing on my throat just a few hours ago.
I feel more wetness between my legs.
I am…I am weirdly attracted to the man who tried to kill me.
My nipples are tight as I run my hands over my throat and down my chest.
Fuck!
I wish these were his hands and not mine.
I shake my head, trying to push the thought away.
Then unbidden, it comes back, my core clenching at nothing.
I am so fucking horny I could combust.
I rinse the soap suds off my body, then let my fingers lazily trail up and down my stomach and breasts.
My breathing gets heavier as I slip my hand between my legs and find my center slippery and wet.
I have never had such an intense reaction before.
I imagine what it would be like to lick Liam’s throat and sink my teeth into it.
The way his blood would trickle down…
The taste of him in my mouth. How would he sound if he said my name; not out of anger, but passion?
What if his fingers slipped between my thighs, and he saw the effect he had on me?
I brush over the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Oh fuck!” I moan as my other hand reaches for my breast, pinching roughly and massaging it.
I am flooded with thoughts of Liam.
On his knees.
Towering over me as I am the one on my knees.
My fingers rub furious circles on my clit.
“Oh, fuck me!” I moan again, sliding an index finger through my wet slit. I am going to come.
I thrust a little deeper, feeling myself clench around the digit.
“Right there,” I groan.
I am ashamed that I want him, especially after learning that he is the first-born son of the family that was responsible for murdering my father.
But here in this bathroom, I let my imagination run wild.
I let myself imagine what it would feel like if Liam sank his big huge cock into…
And then, with a shuddering cry, I come.
I convulse as the water continues raining down on me. I can feel heat bloom in my chest.
Somehow, I know this is not the first or the last time I will be touching myself to thoughts of him.
I step out of the steamy shower, the droplets clinging to my skin as I wrap myself in a fluffy towel. But even as I dry off, I can’t escape the lingering scent of him that clings to my clothes. It’s intoxicating and irresistible, and it sends a shiver down my spine.
Part of me knows I should resist the temptation that seeing him again will only stir up more trouble. But another part of me, the part that’s hungry for him, can’t help but crave his presence, his touch.
With a sigh, I push those thoughts aside and slip into something sultry—a black lace dress that hugs my curves in all the right places, paired with knee-high boots that add a touch of edge to the ensemble.
I drain a whole blood bag as I get dressed.
Then, I take one last look in the mirror, adjusting my hair and makeup until I’m satisfied with my appearance. With a determined stride, I head out the door and make my way to the same bar where I first met him.
The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and laughter as I step inside
I find a seat at the bar, ordering a drink to calm my nerves as I scan the crowd, hoping I might catch a glimpse of him.
The bartender who is usually here is absent, and I am shocked when I see a photo of him pinned to the wall talking about his memorial.
It is so sad that he passed away.
Memories of that first night I was here and how I had a daydream of feeding on him come back. So much has changed since then.
I cradle the glass of whisky that the new bartender has poured me.
The bar is not as crowded as it was that night. There are about thirty people in here, some playing pool and others dancing.
I take a sip of my drink.
Unfortunately, there is no sign of Liam.
I am halfway through my drink when, above the deejay’s music, I hear a different sound outside—the sound of approaching motorcycles.
I freeze, hoping they are just making their way to the highway. Since that first night with Mia, I have been extra jittery whenever I hear a motorcycle speeding by.
But the bikes don’t pass. I hear their engines cut as they pack outside the bar.
I pick up my glass and drain the rest of my drink. Since Liam is not here, and tomorrow is a school day, there is no need for me to stick around.
And if it is Mia’s pack on those motorcycles, I don’t want to be on the receiving end of their wrath.
I try to flag down the bartender so I can pay my bill, but she is too busy flirting with an older guy at the end of the bar.
Fuck me!
I can feel the change in the air the moment they walk in.
I was right. It’s Mia’s pack.
I stiffen, wondering if they will see me, but instead, they head to the pool table at the corner of the bar.
I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. They don’t seem to have noticed me, but I’m not gonna push my luck.
I have to leave. I know exactly how a confrontation with them would go.
Then, one of the wolves approaches the bar. I recognize him from that night. His blonde hair is tied up in a bun, and his beard is a little scruffier now, but it’s definitely him.
Elias.
The same guy I hit in the throat the night of the fight.
He waves at the bartender, who immediately walks up to serve him. I tune my ears, trying to catch what they are saying.
“Sweetheart, how about three beers for me and my brothers,” he says.
“Of course, Elias. Coming right up!”
Yep! I was right.
His eyes sweep over the bar before landing on me. I can feel him.
He clears his throat and then looks away, picking up the cold beers that have been placed on the counter.
Okay? So maybe he has no idea who I am. Maybe he forgot? Maybe he has a twin?
I try flagging down the bartender once again, and this time, she struts over to where I am seated.
“Yes. What else can I get you?”
“Just the check, please.”
“Okay. That’ll be fourteen dollars.”
I look down as I rummage through my purse and take out a twenty-dollar bill before passing it to her. “Keep the change,” I mumble.
Her face lifts as she smiles. “Thank you!”
Then, before she is tempted to engage in small talk, I grab my car keys and make my way out of the bar.
I need to go home now.