He didn’t pursue her. Instead, he walked to the back exit of a shop that shared the alley with Swirl. With one casual punch just above the doorknob, he broke the lock.
The door swung open, inviting her in.
She stared at the dark entryway. The pack would forgive the indiscretion. Werewolves were sexual creatures. It wasn’t that unusual to smell vampire on a wolf. Her pack mates wouldn’t hold it against her unless it became routine.
But her father would absolutely loathe it.
Nora met the vampire’s gaze. “No blood.”
“Agreed,” came the vampire’s immediate response.
Nora strolled through the door.
They entered an upscale furniture store. Temporary walls cut dark swaths through the large space, dividing it into displays of bedrooms, dining rooms, living rooms, and more.
Nora spotted the kitchen area, complete with appliances and granite countertops to her right. She was about to step that way when the vampire pressed against her back. That was dangerous, to have an enemy behind her.
His hands touched her elbows, then lightly skated up her arms. He moved aside her long hair, draping it over her shoulder, leaving her neck exposed to the cool air. Exposed to him.
He’d agreed to no blood. She stood still, wondering if he would keep his word. If he didn’t, killing him would be justified. But she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love it, that edge of danger, of anticipation.
His lips touched her skin, but no teeth pierced her. Instead, he placed a hand on her hip, guiding her to the left.
To the left where the beds were.
No. Too intimate. This wouldn’t be gentle touches on a soft mattress. This would be raw, frenzied sex. A release and nothing else.
She changed their direction, aiming instead for the mock kitchen.
He let her go three steps before he rerouted them again, this time toward the living room area.
She growled low in her throat and pulled him back toward the kitchen. She wanted hard surfaces. Cold granite.
He spun her toward him. His hands tightened on her arms and he stalked forward, forcing her backward, manhandling her, until she hit a couch. She almost lost her balance but widened her stance at the last second and stood her ground.
His hand fisted in her hair. His gaze pierced hers. “I will have you here.”
He swept her feet out from under her. She landed on a soft chaise, the vampire on top of her.
She thrust her knee up and into his groin. He moved just in time, shifting so she didn’t hurt him. Then he pressed his hard shaft into her.
Desire flooded her body, but she would be the one to use this vampire, not the other way around. She threw her weight to the side, rolling them off the chaise and onto the fake wood floor.
Somehow he ended up on top again, this time with his hand pillowed beneath the back of her head, keeping it from cracking against the ground.
She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into the hard muscles beneath his black shirt.
“Have you changed your mind?” the vampire asked, his voice and his expression cold.
In answer, she tore his shirt, ripping it open to reveal his well-sculpted body. Smooth in the right places, hard and defined in the others.
She leaned up, letting him pull her shirt off over her head, letting him push up her skirt. His hand moved up her thigh and finally reached the spot where she’d wanted him before.
His thumb moved across her, up and down, then a quiet vibration rumbled through him. It was almost imperceptible, like he was unaccustomed to making sounds of pleasure.
“You are wet, wolf.”
“You talk too much, vampire.”
