Keystone (Crossbreed #1)(67)
Which wasn’t a whole lot, especially after I’d wasted it on clothes that I’d never see again. The only items in my bag were the ones I’d taken to the mansion in the first place. A girl couldn’t exactly lug four trunks of clothes around the city.
Before leaving the club, I needed to find Christian. Viktor was going to have either him or someone else scrub my memory, and the idea terrified me. I didn’t trust Vampires, and what if he erased everything? There were too many good memories in my life that I didn’t want to risk losing.
Christian was the sort of man who could blend in with a crowd, but not so much tonight with his tight-fitting shirt and jeans. The casual ensemble somehow made his beard and dark eyes stand out all the more. After scanning the bar and finding no sign of him, I searched for someone who might know his whereabouts.
When I rounded the bar, Wyatt bumped into me, beer sloshing out of his glass and onto the floor.
“Where’s Christian?” I yelled over the music.
“Room seven,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the private rooms.
“How do you know?”
Wyatt licked some of the spilled beer off his hand. “Because that’s where he always goes when we come here. Hope we run into each other again, Nancy Drew.”
He waggled his eyebrows and rejoined the blonde, whose breasts were battling against a bra that was a size too small.
I entered the private hallways on the right of the restrooms and searched until I found the room. The door wasn’t locked, so that meant he wasn’t in an important Vampire meeting discussing their superiority over all other Breeds. Christian was probably brooding over the fact that I’d called in the cavalry to save him. Even though I’d done him a good turn, the man probably would have chosen to rot in that tomb for fifty years rather than have everyone on the team see him like that. Sometimes one stupid mistake can make you look like an incompetent fool.
God knows I was feeling some of that myself.
When I opened the door just a crack and peered into the room, I froze like a flower dipped in liquid nitrogen. Christian’s shirt hung around his neck like an afterthought, as if he’d attempted to take it off and lost all motivation.
A dark woman beneath him had her skirt pulled over her hips, her body flush against a low bar on the left. She gripped the edge—head turned away from me, thank God. An empty bottle of wine lay beside her, precariously close to the edge.
Christian had shucked off his jeans below the waist, just low enough for him to get down to business. His right palm was flat against her back, and the other rested on the bar.
She moaned, gasped, and he kept a steady and controlled rhythm. His body was magnificent—I’d imagined him gaunt and full of warts, because Vampires shouldn’t be attractive. They should be dastardly creatures who are pallid and bony, like I’d seen in all the movies. I stared at the rogue whiskers that grew along his jaw, wondering what it would feel like to have them scratching against my skin. His rigid stance and slow movement accentuated his muscles, tightening and contracting with every thrust of his hips. I glimpsed enough of him that it made me swallow, and he suddenly covered her with his body, resting his forearms on the bar.
His pace quickened, and my eyes skated down to admire the profile of his ass. A coil of need tightened within me, and I found myself unable to control the rapid pace of my heart. Christian was a canvas of slender muscle all the way to his strong hands. His hair was no longer neatly groomed but disheveled from a woman’s touch.
The fact that he was roguishly handsome made me hate him even more.
“Do you like watching, lass?” he asked in a growly voice, his head turned away.
I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he knew someone had walked in on him, but I was curious how he knew it was me.
Christian turned his head, and I quickly looked away before he could charm me into doing something I’d later regret. He said nothing, and his gaze nailed me to the floor as his body responded to someone watching him, his rhythm becoming more frenetic. The girl beneath him cried out, and for just a brief second, I imagined myself changing places with her.
It seemed like ages since a man had made me feel that way. I shifted my thoughts to distract myself from thinking about Christian in a sexual way. Cleaning a toilet, the smell of sauerkraut, men in lederhosen…
“You got what you wanted, Christian. You’re solo from here on out.”
“Not at the moment,” he said with a dark smirk.
I turned away, facing the doorjamb, but I could see him out of the corner of my eye through the crack in the door. I lowered my voice to a whisper so the girl wouldn’t hear. “I’m calling on that favor tonight.”
“Stay there, lass,” he murmured to his companion.
Christian appeared at the door, and the crack revealed the left side of his body from his eye to the flap of his unzipped jeans, which he’d attempted to pull up. He smelled like sex. “What’s the favor?”
“I don’t want Viktor to scrub my memory. If he asks you, tell him you did it. If he asks someone else, then make sure they don’t come near me.”
“And you trust me with that kind of request?”
“I have no alternative. So?”
“Aye. I’ll not take your memories. If this favor will remove me from your debt, I’ll make sure of it.” He stroked the vein in his neck, and his fangs descended. “Care for a drink, precious?”