22. Willow
Twenty Two
Willow
W illow was sitting on her balcony trying to convince herself not to change her outfit for the fourth time. Her first one had been too frumpy, with a hoodie and leggings. Her second outfit had been too sexy, with a tight red halter top and low-cut, black skinny jeans. Her third outfit was in-between, with an off-the-shoulder lilac sweater and leggings, but she felt the sweater made her look fat.
When she decided to throw on a different shirt, the rumble of a motorcycle filled her parking lot. She abandoned the fourth wardrobe change and dashed out the door and down the steps to her waiting ride. It wasn’t until she landed on a sharp rock outside that she realized she’d forgotten her shoes. Gage looked at her behind black-tinted sunglasses and lifted his brow as she balanced on one foot and massaged the other, biting her bottom lip to keep the string of curse words inside.
“Did you forget something?” She couldn’t see his eyes, but could feel that taunting laughter that was behind his shades.
“I’ll be right back! ”
It took her less than a minute, and by the time she was standing next to Gage preparing to throw her leg over the bike, she was breathing hard.
He looked over his shoulder and slowly tilted his head down. “I wouldn’t recommend riding a bike with flip-flops on.”
“Aw come on, don’t make me run up to my apartment again.”
“It’s your own fault for not putting on real shoes to begin with. I don’t want to have to listen to you cry when a rock flies up underneath your toenail.”
She grimaced at him, but decided she liked having all her toenails intact. She could hear him chuckling behind her as she once again ran into her building and climbed the stairs, this time much slower.
By the time she returned she felt sweaty and gross, regretting not changing into a short-sleeved shirt when she had the chance. “Does this work?”
He slowly looked her up and down, then sucked his teeth and shook his head. “You’re probably going to get cold. The wind off the ocean has been cool lately, on top of the wind from the bike. You should probably run up those stairs one more time to grab a coat.”
“You’re just messing with me now.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I’m not giving you my jacket when you start complaining.”
“I wouldn’t wear it anyway.” She pouted.
She hesitated and glanced up at her apartment sitting high above her. She never thought she would be the type to think sixty degrees was cold, but here she was. And he was right—the breeze was chilly tonight, and the lack of sun made her shiver. She made one last trip upstairs and changed into the first outfit she’d originally planned.
He was laughing as she came down her steps with sweat starting to line her brow. “You know I was joking, right? I totally would have given you my jacket. ”
“Why did you let me go back up there, then?” She whined.
“‘Cause I like watching you run up stairs.”
She rolled her eyes and slid gently onto the back of his bike. She could smell the light scent of leather from his jacket, mixed with his mahogany and black teakwood bodywash. He sat up straighter as she placed her hands on his sides, preparing for the sendoff.
Unlike the previous time they’d ridden together, he was not as kind. He hit the throttle, causing her to jerk backward and dig her nails into his jacket. His cackling could be heard over the roaring of the engine and she slapped him in the side hard enough that her hand stung. She doubted he felt it under the protection of a hoodie and jacket.
His smirk filled the side mirror. “Hit me harder, mommy.”
“Oh, you’re gross. If I’d known this was the type of mood you would be in, I would’ve stayed at home where I could be comfortably lounging in my pajamas, not being harassed by a man.”
His only response was to laugh again and pat her thigh. Turning her head to hide the blush that climbed up her face, she watched as the world streaked by.
This was their first date after his disclosure. Marla had been right—Venice was the reason he’d pushed her away and seemed so confused about his feelings. But after she leaned forward and kissed him, neither of them were confused anymore. He about took her right there on top of the counter when a customer walked in and she had to go back to being a professional barista.
He had been so easy to forgive. She had never had a man show her such a vulnerable side to himself like he’d done when he’d told her about Clay’s former family. Her heart hurt for Clay, given that he’d lost his wife to suicide, which carried its own unique weight, found his son beaten half to death, then lost his entire family. The burden she carried seemed trivial compared to that. She felt more emboldened to tell Gage the truth of why she left Michigan. Maybe tonight would be the night she got that off her chest.
She leaned her cheek against his shoulder and they rode this way for a while. Her plan had been for him to come over to test out a cookie recipe she was experimenting with for the café, but when he’d suggested a motorcycle ride, she eagerly changed her plans. The cookies could wait.
He pulled up to a familiar spot on the beach. It was down a ways from the boardwalk and she held on tight as he guided his bike over the sand. There were a few couples walking along the moonlit shore hand in hand, but they paid them no mind as he parked and helped her off.
“I hope you don’t think I’m going to strip naked and wade into the water again. I learned my lesson the first time I did that.”
“Damn, I was hoping to get some inspiration for a new painting.” He smiled down at her and pulled out a blanket from his saddlebag. They walked closer to the water, the soothing sound of the waves relaxing her, and he spread it out for them to sit on and watch the endless ocean. Off in the distance, she saw two dolphins jump into the night air.
She chuckled. “Leave it to Florida to get man-eating dolphins.”
“Yeah…about that. I think Nikolas may have accidentally caused that outbreak. You should totally harass him about that next time he’s in the café.”
“How did he manage that?” She could tell her question made him uncomfortable as he cleared his throat and thought through his answer.
“So, you know we have to drink blood to survive, and that we don’t kill innocent people. But sometimes we kill not-innocent people and have to dispose of the bodies.”
He glanced at her quickly to gauge her response, and she shrugged to help put him at ease. “We do the same thing to animals, only we torture them and force them to live in dirty, cramped environments first. At least you kill these people quickly, right?”
“Sometimes. Do you really want me to make a pedophile’s death quick and painless, though?”
She didn’t even have to think about her response. “Nah, drag it out. How often do you have to kill?”
“About once a week, unless I lose a lot of blood, then I need to refill sooner. We still have to eat food to keep our bodies running, but our bodies can’t create new blood, so we have to replenish it. Think of blood like gas in a car, we have to top it off every once in a while. Newer vampires need to drink more often, but the older and stronger you get the less you run through it.”
His thumb made mesmerizing small circles in the sensitive space between her thumb and index finger. She watched it as the next question burned at the tip of her tongue. “Have you ever thought about drinking my blood?”
He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah I have, but I would never hurt you. You smell sweet, that’s all. It would be like if you walked past a bakery—wouldn’t you think about eating whatever they made?”
Willow scrunched her nose. “I smell like a bakery? That’s weird.”
“More like vanilla candy. Most people don’t smell like that, so you kind of stand out.”
“Oh great, that makes me so much more comfortable knowing that I’m a giant, smelly temptation for vampires. Can I ask another question?”
“What, are we playing twenty questions about being a vampire tonight?” He smirked.
“I’m curious, okay? This is all new to me. After Waldo rescued me, he told me a little about why people willingly give blood to vampires. He mentioned that your bite can uh… feel good.” Her face burned red. She had seen this man naked twice now, had his face buried between her legs, but for some reason asking if his bite would make her orgasm was making her feel like a schoolgirl asking a question in sex ed.
He furrowed his brow. “Why did he bring that up?”
“He offered to mark me and explained that a bite mark can keep me safe from rouge vampires.”
His face turned pale. “You didn’t let him, right?”
“Of course not! But he told me to think about it and I have. If anyone marks me it should be you.”
He snorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve developed a weird fantasy of me biting you? Are you going to become like your friend Marla and become obsessed with me like she is with Matteo?”
“Marla isn’t obsessed, she’s very fond of him.”
“They’re both weirdly obsessed, but Matteo doesn’t want to admit it.” He turned and gave her a feline smile, revealing his fangs. “But if you seriously want me to bite you, I’d be more than willing. In fact, I already have a spot picked out. We could do it right here.”
“Gage! There are still people on the beach, I don’t want them to see that, especially if it makes me…you know.”
“But you’re hot when you come. Let them watch.”
The way he growled the last three words had her underwear instantly soaked. She didn’t trust herself not to pounce on him, so she rolled her eyes and stood up. “Come on, you need to take me back to my apartment. I have cookies to bake.”
“Is that a euphemism for something?”
“How about you take me back and find out?”
????
Willow hummed to herself as she danced around her kitchen getting all the ingredients together for the cookies. Gage sat on a bar stool, arms crossed and leaning against the counter, watching her through her kitchen’s pass-through window. His disappointment was clear when he realized that “cookies” was in fact not a euphemism. It brought her joy to slowly torture him like this—he deserved a little bit of payback, even if she did forgive him.
As she opened the fridge she gasped and dug through all the drawers, not finding the sticks of butter she thought would be there. Hoping she had some spare in the freezer, she stood up on her tip toes to dig through an abundance of frozen vegetables, different shaped fries, and bags of dino nuggets.
“There butter be some butter in here.” She side-eyed Gage to see if he had heard her joke. He stared at her, and her insides twisted with how much she was cringing at herself.
“I’m sorry, that sounded much funnier in my head.”
“There butter not be any in there with how bad that joke was.”
She abruptly turned to face him, her laughter tinkling through the kitchen. She shut the freezer, abandoning the search and turned her full attention to the golden god that was perched on her chair. He looked so at ease in her apartment and stared at her with a gaze that made her want to squirm under its intensity.
Her breath caught in her throat as Gage pushed back his stool and walked around the corner to enter her kitchen. She shuffled backward as he blocked her into the corner of her counter and placed both hands on either side of her, trapping her. His mouth was mere inches away and she could feel his breath whisper across her skin.
“Your heart’s racing,” he whispered. He traced light line over her chest, dipping down to tickle her cleavage.
A slow, wicked smile crawled across his face and a realization came over her. He was a vampire twice her size, they were alone in her apartment, and he was close enough to rip open her throat in less than a second. But he smelled so good, and felt so safe. The paradox made her head spin.
Before she could think about it anymore, his mouth covered hers and she stopped thinking all together. It felt like he pulled all of her fears, sadness, and loneliness out through his kiss as she melted into him and wrapped her arms around his solid torso. Pulling him tighter against her chest, she pushed her tongue against his, wanting to taste him deeply. With her eyes closed and her mind empty, she explored him and tasted every inch that he was willing to give to her.
She jumped slightly when her tongue brushed against his long canines. Her reaction caused him to press against her harder and grab her by the back of the thighs, lifting her up to sit her on the counter. From this height, she was able to embrace his face with her hands and deepen her investigation of his mouth. She licked one sharp incisor gingerly with the tip of her tongue. She appreciated his patience as he allowed her to play her tongue across his teeth until she had her fill. She felt like a virgin again who’d recently learned how to French kiss, and was slightly embarrassed by her behavior.
She pulled away only for him to bend his head and place soft kisses along her neck and down her exposed shoulder. He grabbed her hoodie at her waist and bundled it into his fists as he slowly pulled it up and over. The slow sensation of the fabric gliding across her skin sent shivers down her body, which were only heightened as he continued his onslaught of gentle kisses along her collarbone.
She let out a small sigh and unclasped her bra to expose even more of herself to him. He didn’t hesitate, and lowered his kisses along her breasts, circling each nipple with his tongue. She arched her back, allowing him to fully draw her into his mouth. He slipped his hands under the waistband of her leggings, and she lifted herself off the counter so that he could slide them off with ease. She didn’t realize he had slipped off her underwear with them until the cool granite teased her hot center .
“I’m surprised you didn’t slide off the counter with how wet you are.” He chuckled into her ear as he glided one finger along her slit.
He brought his glistening finger to her face and pushed it into her mouth. She obliged and began sucking on it, wishing it was something a little bigger that was forcing its way between her teeth.
“Tell me, Willow,” he purred, “do you trust me enough to let me bite you?”
With closed eyes, she continued sucking and nodded her head, more than eager to find out just how good his bite would feel. She opened her eyes halfway and released his finger with a pop. “I trust you not to kill me, but I don’t care if you hurt me. It’s not like I haven’t been hurt before.” She wrapped a naked leg around his waist and tried to bring him closer to resume her study of his mouth.
He resisted and stepped back to lower himself to his knees. “You don’t deserve to be hurt. You deserve to be adored and worshiped like the goddess that you are.”
She clasped her legs shut and frowned down at him. He placed his head on her knees and looked up at her with a sad smile.
“What? Do you not like it when men say nice things to you?”
“I’m not used to it. I guess it just makes me cringe and kind of ruins the moment, you know?”
“No, I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to train you to accept my compliments.” He placed one last, gentle kiss on her thigh before roughly grabbing her knees and jerking her legs apart.
She gasped as he dove his face in between her legs and sucked her clit into his mouth, gently nipping at it with his teeth. His words vibrated against her core. “Now be a good girl and hold your legs apart so I can properly worship you.”
Without a word, she did as she was asked and grabbed her legs behind her knees to hold them up. He slipped one finger into her aching center and began massaging her as he kept his mouth around her sensitive nub. He soon added a second finger into the mix, which caused her to dig her nails into her legs to keep from letting go to grab his hair. Something told her that if she disobeyed his one order, he would be sure to punish her.
As tempting as that was, she was enjoying his worship too much to find out what punishment would await her.
She tried her best to stay steady for him, but between the need to grind against his tongue, which was lapping at her, and the intense thrusting of his hand, she was finding it hard to remain balanced on the counter. She whimpered out his name to alert him that she was losing control, but instead of giving her some grace he shoved a third finger inside and stretched her further.
“Fuck, Gage,” she moaned, finally relinquishing her death grip on one leg to tangle her fingers through his hair.
He stopped everything, leaving his fingers thrust deep inside her, and sat up to look at her with a dark passion in his eyes. “I didn’t tell you to let go of your leg.”
She looked down at him with narrowed eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”
A dark smile that matched the passion in his eyes slowly spread across his face.
Instead of responding, he ripped his fingers out of her and landed a sharp slap across her pussy. She held back a yelp as he closed her legs and grabbed her off the counter bridal-style to carry her to her bedroom. He threw her onto her unmade bed and kept the lights off so they were enshrouded in darkness.
“What do you want me to do about it?” He asked.
She heard the whisper of his clothing falling to the ground. It wasn’t long before she felt the bed dip down with his weight as he straddled her naked and pulsing core.
“I want you to show me the spot you picked out. ”
Her breath caught as he grabbed both of her wrists in one hand and pulled them over her head. Her back arched reflexively as he leaned down closer, his face hovering inches above hers. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He traced his free hand over her jaw and down her neck. It lingered on the dip at the bottom of her throat before continuing its slow descent down between her breasts. This time, she felt his breath catch as he outlined a triangle on her midriff.
“Here, this is my favorite spot. It’s soft and warm and so enticing, much like you are.” He flicked his tongue out and licked the center of his triangle. “The dress you wore to the club drove me absolutely mad with that cut out in this exact spot. You were being such a tease and you didn’t even know it.”
She freed a hand and reached out into the darkness. He found her hand and threaded thier fingers together. He placed a kiss in his spot and she could feel him smile against her skin.
She took a deep breath and waited for the piercing, burning pain of his bite. Instead, she felt him lick the spot one last time and glide his teeth painlessly through her layers of skin.
“Gage! Oh fuck!” She screamed out as an orgasm instantly tore through her body, starting at the spot he was biting instead of her core. The pleasure rolled through her body for as long as he was biting and sucking on his spot. Her fingers grew numb with how tightly she gripped his hand.
She lost track of time until her body began shaking. He broke his suction, licking the line of blood streaming out of the two wounds that would permanently mark her, and quickly shoved his hard cock deep inside of her.
“Fucking hell, Willow,” he groaned into her ear as he pounded into her pulsing sex.
Another orgasm was beginning to build within her, each stroke bringing her closer to the edge. She wrapped her legs around his waist and offered herself up to him as much as she could from her position on the bed. Each time he impaled her, it caused sparks of pleasure to explode within her.
His mouth came crashing down onto hers and he encircled her head with his arms as they both came together. This wave of pleasure still made her delirious with passion, but it was nowhere near as concentrated as when he was biting her. Part of her wanted to have him bite her again as she was coming, but she was afraid she wouldn’t survive the fervent pleasure. She might combust.
He collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing heavy, his cock still buried inside her. She silently thanked herself for staying on her birth control as she kept her legs wrapped around him as his cock pumped the last of his seed into her. They eventually untangled each other and repositioned themselves under her covers. She grabbed a tissue from her bedside table and blotted the wound on her chest.
“I have a question,” she asked.
“I might have an answer.”
“Why do your bites make me feel that way? Isn’t it weird when you go to kill someone and they have an orgasm before they die?”
His loud, sudden snort of laughter startled her. The vibration of his laughter shook the bed.
“Trust me, if someone pissed me off to the point I wanted to kill them, giving them an orgasm is the last thing I want. Not all bites feel that way, only when I want them to. It has something to do with our saliva, it has an aphrodisiac in it and if we fill the wound with it it’ll cause intense orgasms.”
“Huh, so you spit in my wound?”
“Way to take the romance out of it. No, I don’t spit on you, though that’s kind of hot in its own weird way. I lick you.”
A tingling sensation crawled through her stomach. “Way to put the romance back in.”
“Our saliva can also heal wounds if I were to lick it again. But, I don’t want this one to heal.” He traced it lightly and goosebumps rose on her skin at the ticklish sensation. “Then it won’t leave a mark.”
She snuggled up against his chest, holding the tissue to her new modification.
“Do you feel safer now?” He murmured as he stroked her hair.
“Yeah, I do.” She whispered before falling into a deep, restful sleep.