Chapter Twenty-Eight
Although her desk was still covered in sticky notes, Stella seemed far less manic when Verity arrived for her Monday night donation.
“He’s still got someone in,” she said, glancing up at Verity while packing her things away.
“No worries,” Verity replied, taking a seat. “How’s he been tonight?”
“Fine, why?” Stella looked up at her with narrowed eyes.
It wasn’t always obvious how to take Stella.
She could be snarky and prickly at times, and Verity still wasn’t sure if the vampire liked her or not.
Their acquaintance was more like a truce than a friendship, like a cat who you never fully trusted not to scratch you.
Theo, on the other hand, talked about Stella like she was sent from Phoenar himself.
“No reason,” she said, removing her jacket and smoothing the fabric of her button-up dress.
Grabbing a paper from the table, she pretended to read until Stella stopped staring and returned to tidying her desk.
Of course, she’d be able to tell Verity was a little more anxious than normal.
Thinking about it only made her heart beat faster.
After being around vampires so much these past weeks, she had hoped to gain a bit more control over her body, but apparently not.
Other than a few texts, she hadn’t spoken to Theo since he’d dropped her off the previous night.
From the limited messages they had exchanged she got the distinct impression he wanted to pretend the whole ordeal with Abe hadn’t happened, which was fine by her.
The only thing that truly concerned Verity was his refusal to admit he was hungry.
She was well aware of how little he’d drunk at SubRosa, but he declined her every offer.
Turning the page of the newspaper she caught the homely scent of ink on cheap paper.
In fact… she looked around the reception area.
Normally she wouldn’t be able to smell something so subtle with the copious amounts of flowers decorating the space, but there were none.
Not one rose or lily to perfume the air.
Not even a bit of foliage. Good. With the city budget strained as it was, it was only right that the flowers went before jobs and livelihoods.
She turned the page, finding an article on housing.
It would seem that the city was on the edge of a house price crash, with the market being flooded with luxury houses and apartments and not enough people to buy them.
It was written as if readers should feel sorry for the poor mansion owners struggling to sell homes that could house a small village and cost more than a family would make in a lifetime. Verity’s heart bled for the poor dears.
“Can you remind him he’s got a meeting first thing tomorrow?” Stella asked, throwing her bag over her shoulder.
“Will do,” Verity replied.
Stella thanked her, already walking away with her eyes glued to her phone.
It was another ten minutes before the office door opened and two police officers emerged. One human, one vampire, wearing almost identical uniforms. Only the vampire had a crescent moon embroidered on his shoulder and the human had a sun.
“Leave it with me, sir,” the vampire was saying.
Theo appeared, shaking the vampire’s hand and offering his thanks before turning to the human. The man’s face glowed as bright as the sun sewn onto his jacket. His cheeks looked sticky as he offered a limp hand, mumbling something Verity couldn’t make out.
“Chin up, Talbot,” Theo said, giving the hand a hearty shake. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Talbot nodded before hurrying after the vampire who hadn’t bothered waiting, giving Verity her first unobstructed view of Theo. He looked exhausted, his pale skin taking on the same dull hue as his eyes.
Not waiting for an invitation, Verity hopped from her seat and approached, sliding past Theo when he stepped aside with a tight-lipped smile.
“You look like shit,” she greeted, grabbing the whiskey and looking for somewhere to sit. Other than Theo’s high backed chair and the two small couches, every other seat was missing. “Where are all the chairs?”
“We needed them for a meeting earlier. I can go get…”
“No, it’s fine,” said Verity, sitting on a couch and patting the seat beside her.
Their legs touched as he sat, the fabric of his trousers resting against her bare knee. They could have moved back but neither seemed inclined to.
Theo started pouring whiskey, but Verity held out her wrist.
“Feed first.”
Ignoring the request, he took a sip.
“Come on,” Verity said, forcing her hand into his. “You must be ravenous.”
Familiar heat coursed through her when he took her hand, watching her as he massaged.
Something was different. His hands worked, firm and sure, but something had changed.
His expression was stony, jaw set with determination, or perhaps irritation.
He barely spoke to her. Hadn’t bombarded her with the usual deluge of calls and texts.
Didn’t want to see her the previous night.
Attempting, and failing, to master her heartbeat, Verity asked, “What’s wrong?”
Theo shook his head. “Just been thinking.”
“About…?”
He smirked. “What do you think?”
Raising her wrist to his lips, he kissed the sensitive skin and waited for Verity’s nod.
“Are we okay?” she whispered, needing to know.
“Of course,” he said with an incredulous look before kissing the palm of her hand. “Are we okay?” he asked back.
“Very okay.”
This time when he kissed her wrist Verity nodded and he sank his teeth into her, gifting her the sweet pain that had become her favourite drug.
Her legs twitched as need struck her core, a soft moan escaped her lips, and Theo growled.
Eyes black and endless. She couldn’t look away.
She watched throughout, as his cheeks hollowed and he drank deep and gods it hurt. Such blissful agony.
At the edge of her mind Verity became vaguely aware of another feeling, a whisper compared to the roar of his feeding.
His eyes broke away, looking down, beckoning her to follow his gaze.
It was only when she saw his fingers that she felt them.
Cool and soft, drawing idle circles on her knee.
Her lip trembled as he moved higher, higher, with agonising slowness.
He’d stopped feeding, her wrist still in his mouth but healing until all she could feel was the palm of his hand, his fingertips digging into her flesh as he grabbed her thigh and dragged her closer.
Verity’s hand found his tie, pulling him against her.
Releasing her wrist Theo loomed over her, teeth bared and stained with her blood. She whimpered.
“Tell me to stop,” Theo said, voice strained and rough.
In answer, Verity leant up and crushed her lips against his. He took no more encouragement.
One moment he hovered above her, near shaking with restraint. The next he devoured her. Hands roamed every inch, grabbing her arse and pulling her hair as he consumed her with lips and tongue and teeth. Her moans could barely be heard above his feral groans.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t exist outside of this moment. If his lips left her, she might die.
His fang caught his lip, and she gasped as he sucked on the tiny sting before nipping again making her whimper and moan and sob with need. More. She wanted more. She wanted everything.
As if reading her mind Theo’s lips moved, kissing and licking down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. The lace of her bra left little to the imagination as he tore open the buttons of her dress and her nipples pebbled beneath his cool breath.
“Tell me to stop,” he said again, panting against her.
Verity shook her head and he grabbed her by the jaw, holding her still as he moved over her. His lips ghosted across hers as he said it again.
“Tell me to…”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Verity gasped, reaching up and sliding the straps of her bra over her shoulders, baring herself to him.
He watched her as if she might change her mind. To drive home the point, Verity reached for his belt, heaving her body to his when he didn’t move. She rocked against him, needing friction to soothe the desperate ache between her thighs. She moaned his name and he moved.
Taking both her hands in his, he held her still as his mouth lowered to her peaked breast. He kissed, soft and light, making her writhe.
More. More. Yet he took his time with gentle touches of his mouth, catching the very tip of her nipple between his lips over and over.
At first, it was almost nothing but with every whisper of contact her sensitivity climbed.
Until that delicate touch fuelled her soaking heat.
“Theo,” she moaned, pulling at her hands, fighting for control. “Theo, please.”
“You want me to stop?” he asked, words smothered by her breast.
“Stop teasing me,” she whined, and he pulled back to look at her.
“Stop teasing you?” he asked, voice high.
His hand slid from her neck to pinch her over-sensitive nipple. Verity cried a curse as her legs clamped around him. Then his mouth replaced his fingers, sucking hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, before licking and soothing.
“Stop teasing you?” he asked again. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”
“How is this fair?” she asked, fighting to pull her hands from his.
“You’re right, this won’t make us even.”
“Even?”
“For every time you’ve teased me,” he replied, moving to her other breast and starting the slow process over again.
What was he talking about? They flirted but he was just as bad, and this was… this was something else.
“You could make it up to me,” he said.
“Theo, I don’t know…”
“For every time I’ve had to feed while knowing you’re wet for me.”
Oh. That.
“Well… I… Fuck!” Her body arched away from him, burrowing into the couch on instinct as he grazed her nipple with his fangs.
Theo hummed as he licked the tiny scratches then returned to the other breast, flicking his tongue until Verity was losing her mind.