Finally, he pushed off the door and growled, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
She turned around but kept the door at her back, not sure the battle was won. “I just worked a double shift. I’m dead on my feet.”
“So sit down and kick off your shoes. I’ll rub your feet.”
Tension spiraled through her belly and the hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Bruce was anything but romantic. In all the months they’d been together, he’d never once held a door or brought her a gift. “I’d rather take a shower and collapse into bed—alone. Besides, if Jake finds out you’re in Aspen, he’ll kill you.”
“I’m not afraid of Jake,” he sneered.
“I wasn’t inferring that you are. This is just a really bad time for you to come nosing around. Something big was going on tonight. Everyone’s on edge.”
His gaze narrowed with calculated interest and she recognized her mistake. He already knew or at least he’d suspected and she’d just confirmed his suspicions. Damn it. This is why he was in Aspen, why he was coming on to her. She forced her tired brain to focus. She couldn’t tell him any more. Even if she had to fuck him to get rid of him, she would not endanger Ava.
He stalked forward and pressed one hand against the door. “Battle plans? Should I be summoning our fighters?” She wasn’t fooled by his casual tone. His cold hazel eyes revealed his determination. “What’s Jake up to now?”
“Our clan has no interest in expansion. You know that.”
“Then what had everyone ‘on edge’?”
She couldn’t un-spill the beer, but she could minimize the damage. Hoping her performance was more convincing than his, she shrugged and shook her head. “No clue. All I know is the tavern was seriously busy and everyone seemed sort of jumpy.”
He looked her up and down as she did her best not to squirm. Then his gaze iced over and he stepped back. “You’re right. You need a shower.”
Rather than reacting to the slur, she ushered him out then closed and locked the door. After offering a hurried prayer of thanks to any deity willing to listen, she dug her phone out of her pocket and called the tavern. The restaurant was closed, but the bar was still open for another few minutes anyway.
“Toulouse Tavern, good morning.”
Enya’s sarcasm made Maggie smile. “Hey, it’s Maggie. Tell Jake that Bruce Fitzroy is back in town and looking for trouble.”
Chapter Five
Hunger tore through Kyle, the sudden, tight spasm trapping his breath in his lungs. He shook, muscles twitching as his body burned. He prayed for a moment of relief, a random blast of numbness so he could gather energy or catch his breath. The blessed oblivion never came. Each cramp, each creeping urge drove the need deeper and made his pain more excruciating. The spasm released and he exhaled, the whoosh of air ending in a moan.
Warm fingers brushed his forehead, his temple, his jaw. “Kyle?”
Ava. If he was dreaming again, why was the pain still so intense?
She repeated the hesitant caress on the other side of his face. Then her soft body slid against his as she settled against his side.
He trembled, holding back the urge to attack, to take what he wanted, what he needed with every cell of his starving body.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I want to feed you, but I—”
With an instinctive surge of strength, he swept her beneath him and pinned her arms against the bed. “Say it again.” His voice sounded gravelly and…desperate.
“Say what?”
He still hadn’t opened his eyes. Part of him was terrified this wasn’t real. He wasn’t afraid to die. Anything would be better than this endless, burning hunger. But he knew madness would claim him if he opened his eyes and her image disintegrated.
Slowly lifting his lids, he blinked until her face came into focus. So damn beautiful. And so afraid. He eased his grip without letting go and tried to relax his muscles. “Are you really willing?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“A kiss won’t cut it this time. You understand what I need?”
Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she nodded. She was trying to be brave. “I’m not a virgin, Kyle. I’ve actually seen a penis before.”
The fact that she still called it a penis proved her minimal exposure to them. “If I lose control and try to claim you, scream for Jake. He’s probably listening outside the door anyway.”
Her gaze darted toward the door, but she whispered, “I trust you.”
“Don’t.” He treaded his fingers through hers and gave her hands a squeeze. “I don’t trust myself right now. Do not, for any reason, drink my blood.”