Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3)(46)

“I know you were following her today,” the guy continued. He leaned forward. “I paid you to follow Jane. So where the f*ck is she now?”





Chapter Ten


Hell’s Gate was dead silent. Aidan marched across the club and went straight to the bar. Jane paced behind him, but stopped in the middle of the cavernous room. She watched as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured it into a short, thick glass. He downed that whiskey in one gulp and then poured more. “Aidan…” Jane began, edging a bit closer. His mood was volatile—hell, that was a serious understatement. The whole bar felt heavy and tense, a tenseness that was emanating from Aidan.

He drained the second glass and set it back on the bar with a thunk. “That didn’t help.” His gaze locked on her. His eyes were so bright. “I’m still thirsty.”

Something was different about Aidan. Darker. His features seemed harder and when he looked at her, the expression in his eyes was almost desperate.

His gaze slid over her face. Down to her throat. And that stare of his seemed to burn even more.

“I need a taste, Jane,” Aidan whispered.

“A taste?” Her own voice came out too high pitched.

He put his hands down on the bar, then leapt right over it. He stalked toward her. Stalked. Definitely the right description for his slow, steady movements. “A taste of you.”

Jane shook her head. “Captain Harris will be coming soon. She’ll—”

“Not yet, she won’t. It’s just you and it’s me.” His hand rose and his fingers curled along the column of her neck. “I need a taste.” His words were growled. And when he spoke, she saw his fangs.

Vampire fangs.

He pulled her closer. Her breasts brushed against his chest. All kinds of warnings were going off in her head as she stared up at him. Handle with extreme care. At the cemetery, she’d been aware of just how fragile his control had been. If she hadn’t been with him, Jane feared he would have killed Roth. Sure, the guy was an *, but did Roth deserve to have his throat ripped out for that crime?

His fingers stroked her neck. “Let me taste you, Jane.”

“Aidan…”

His head bent. His lips brushed over hers. It was a careful kiss. She hadn’t expected that care. His mood was so volatile, his darkness so close to the surface, that she’d expected a rough claiming from his mouth. Hard. Domination.

Not seduction. But he was seducing her. With his mouth and his tongue. His kiss was so careful, so tender, and Jane found herself leaning toward him. This was Aidan. Her Aidan. Fate kept trying to tear them apart, but Jane wasn’t going to let that happen. He was the one thing that had always felt right in her messed-up world.

He was the one person who made her feel right.

His mouth feathered over her jaw, then slowly moved down her neck. Jane’s head tipped back and a moan slipped from her throat. He always knew just how to touch her. Always knew exactly—

His fangs sank into her throat. There was no pain, just pleasure, a white-hot lash that had her whole body tensing. Her hands rose and curled around his broad shoulders, but she didn’t push him away. Her nails sank into his shirt as she pulled him even closer.

He was drinking her blood. He was tasting her…

And she loved it.

Her breasts tightened as need spiraled inside of her. Not some soft, gentle need. Lust. Dirty, hot lust. Her sex ached and her panties got wet. She rocked her hips against him, wanting to be closer.

His bite—it was doing something to her. She was rubbing her body against his like a freaking cat in heat, and Jane couldn’t stop herself. She wanted her clothes gone, and she wanted him to f*ck her. Right then. Right there. She didn’t care where they were. She didn’t care if anyone walked straight in on them. She needed Aidan.

Her breath panted out. “Aidan!”

He locked his hands around her hips and lifted her up. He whirled and put her down on top of the bar, then he pushed between her spread legs. His cock was full, shoving hard against the front of his jeans. Her trembling fingers jerked at the button on his jeans and she pulled down the zipper. That hiss was loud in the bar, but not as loud as the frantically drumming heartbeat that echoed in her ears.

Want him. Need him.

Her own fangs were out. Her breasts were tight peaks. She wanted Aidan to lick them. Wanted him to lick her—everywhere.

Pleasure. No more pain. That was what she wanted with him. Always with him.

Her hand curled around his cock. It was thick and hot in her hand. She squeezed him and—

“Jane.” He’d pulled his mouth from her neck. He stared down at her, and she lost her breath as she stared at him. Aidan looked as if he wanted to devour her.

Staring into his eyes, she stroked him again, a long pump from the base of his cock to the head of his erection.

His jaw tightened. “I’m going to f*ck you.”

“Good.” She needed him inside her. She needed—

“I’m going to own you.” His voice was dark and rough as he grabbed her shirt and wrenched it up. His claws sliced through her bra and his mouth locked on one aching breast. Jane’s head tipped back as she gave a wild cry.

In me. I need him in me—

“Just as you own me,” Aidan rasped against her. Then his hand was at the snap of her jeans. He moved fast—that wonderful paranormal speed—and she was suddenly naked on the bar top. He pulled her closer, and he smiled at her.