She hadn’t had a connection with her family, nor had she ever had a friend before Yvette. And she’d certainly never taken a lover…had never even been kissed before. She longed for intimate human contact as much as Jane did, but couldn’t overcome her self-doubt to allow it to happen, the way Jane couldn’t overcome her fear of breaking her cardinal rule and hurting someone.
Jane had seen all of that?
Mortification gripped her.
“I don’t mean to thrust my personal woes on anyone else.” She started to pull away, but this time it was Jane who kept their hands clasped.
“No, it’s not like that,” she said. “It’s painful, yes. I can feel what you feel, deep down. Yet…there’s also relief in hearing you say why you’ve suffered. You’ve always felt out of place and that explains why you hurt inside. Why you feel so alone. Why you doubt yourself.”
Shana considered this for a moment as Drake leaned forward, pulling all the pieces together right along with Shana.
She said to Jane, “You relate to it. You relate to me.”
“I feel a bond with you, yes. I desperately wanted to meet you once it happened.”
Shana couldn’t deny she felt the same.
She glanced over at Drake, finding it interesting how he seemed to mentally catalog everything about her as he studied her. Her mannerisms, her features, her words. He seemed to absorb it all, missing nothing.
Begging the question, “Why did you want to meet me?”
Again, his grin was a slow, sexy one. It cut some of the tension in the room and melted his edgy appearance. “As you’ve already discovered for yourself, Jane is impossible to say no to. It was her idea to invite you backstage. I was hesitant because, quite frankly, I wasn’t sure I could resist you.”
His words sparked the kind of excitement that made her nipples tighten and her pussy throb. She’d never been so in tune to her femininity or her sexual needs until this evening. Yet she wasn’t experienced with any sort of seduction—be it by her effort or someone else’s—so she had to clarify one point.
“My blood? Or…me?”
His jaw clenched and his eyes flashed with a hunger that had nothing to do with being ravenous for food.
“Oh.” The word left her mouth on an exhale of breath. He didn’t even need to answer her question with words. He’d done it perfectly with one very heated look. Her attention returned to Jane and she asked, rather boldly, “What do you want from me?”
“It’s not what I want from you,” she was quick to say. “It’s what I want for you.”
Before Shana could ask what she meant, Jane leaned forward, stretching upward and brushing her lips over Shana’s.
It hardly qualified as a kiss. It was a mere featherlight touch that almost didn’t exist, it was so delicate. Yet it was so deliciously perfect in every way—mostly because it delivered another unspoken answer to her questions.
“You’re breathtaking,” Jane said, her green eyes shimmering in the soft glow of the chandelier and embers.
Her whole life, Shana had wanted to hear those words. To hear them and believe in them, to be exact. And of course, she’d always wanted to feel someone else’s lips against hers.
While her insecurities and self-consciousness wanted to rebuff Jane’s words and actions, the awe in Jane’s eyes and voice could not be disputed.
The tables instantly turned. She was no longer in need of an invitation into their world. It became quite obvious to her in that instant, they were awaiting an invitation into hers.
She gently eased her and Jane’s clasped hands from Jane’s chest and pressed them against the skin exposed by her one-shoulder dress. “You’re not cold to me,” she said, knowing now that was a touch-point with Jane. Her own insecurity and vulnerability. “In fact, it’s refreshing. Because I’m burning up.”
The confidence Jane had so easily exuded up until fifteen or so minutes ago returned. She smiled and said, “You’re not at all what I expected.”
“That’s because I’ve never felt so sure of myself until this very moment.” Her head dipped and she swept her lips over Jane’s, mimicking the earlier gesture.
Jane let out a soft moan. “So warm,” she mused. “And supple. Cozy. Against my cold lips, it’s like snuggling under a thick down comforter on a crisp autumn night.”
“I want something for you too,” Shana said. “To feel the same heat I do.”
Jane stared up at her, gratitude in her eyes, mingled with a realization that they were kindred spirits. Shana could think of no better way to describe it and she wanted to strengthen the bond.