Temptation Calls Read online

Would he have come to her rescue if he knew she was a vampire? No matter how much temptation called to her, she could never be the woman he wanted. She could never walk in the light with him or give him the children he deserved to have. She was a creature of the dark. It was better she stay that way.

  But then he opened his eyes and gave her a sleepy smile. “You’re not going to stand there all night, are you? Especially when I have the rest of this big bed all empty beside me.”

  To lie beside him, like a normal woman. To imagine the possibilities of what might have been.

  The temptation was just too much to resist.

  Chapter 13

  S he slipped into bed beside him, still fully dressed. She didn’t dare change for fear that Peter might misinterpret her actions. And she needed the extra warmth, a chill had settled into her. A vampire reaction to the trauma of the stun gun and the loss of energy from transforming and dealing with her two would-be abductors.

  She should have fed while he was still out of it, rather than watching him like a foolish schoolgirl staring at a pop idol. But she hadn’t. So she had some trepidation as she tucked herself next to him. She laid her hand on his chest, and he covered it with his own.

  “You’re cold.”

  “It was a little chilly out there,” she lied, something which she had been doing all night long.

  “Yeah.” He rubbed her hand as if to warm it. She sensed the change in his body. The slight uneasiness before he turned so he could face her.

  “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  She met his gaze. His hazel-green eyes were trained on her face, intense in their perusal. She couldn’t keep lying to him. But she also couldn’t tell him the truth. “Even if I was, it’s not the kind of trouble you can help me with, Peter.”

  He traced the edges of her lips with his thumb. “Why not?”

  She opened her mouth to speak and tasted the saltiness of his skin. Suddenly she didn’t want to talk anymore. Suddenly all she wanted was to reexperience the wonder of his kiss. “Please, Peter. Let’s not talk about this.”

  Reluctantly he said, “Okay. So what do you want to talk about?”

  She smiled and brushed a shaggy lock of sunbleached hair away from his face. Then she shifted her hand down, cupped his jaw where the soft bristle of his evening beard was just emerging. Then lower still, to his wonderful lips, which still bore a sleepy little boy grin. “I don’t want to talk.”

  Peter groaned and his body jumped to almost painful life.

  He’d wanted more of what he’d found in their interlude of a few days ago, but then she’d turned him away. Honestly, her reaction had pissed him off. But only a little. He’d sensed that she was conflicted about her feelings for him. He’d hoped to get a second chance with her. And now this.

  He urged her closer with one hand, while tunneling his other into the thick mass of her wavy black hair.

  She was so beautiful. He closed the last distance between them, barely brushing his lips against hers, and experiencing another jolt of surprise, in her body and his, at just how right it was. He’d never thought he could respond like this again after what had happened with his wife. Somehow being with Samantha brought deep pleasure and relief.

  Maybe, just maybe, there could be more. He deepened his kiss, opening his mouth against hers to explore the textures and taste of her lips, savoring her tentative response which slowly grew bolder and more intoxicating. Her tongue danced against his. Over and over they kissed, until they were gripping one another tightly.

  Until it wasn’t enough.

  He was the first to take the next step, easing his hand beneath her sweater to release the clasp on her bra.

  She stiffened and he stopped, feeling the trembling of her body. “Are you okay?” He called himself a fool for not remembering that in Samantha’s life, sex hadn’t necessarily been a good thing.

  “It’s just…It’s been a long time,” she said and watched as the truth of her words registered with him. It had been a way, way long time, she thought. Much longer than he could imagine.

  “It’s been a long time for me as well. Do you want to stop?”

  Ever the hero. She’d never had a hero in her bed before. Never a protector. Never someone who actually cared a whit about what she was feeling. Yet her wanting was tinged with fear. How would she react to his touch? Would the vampire within rise up, out of control as passion grew?

  Already the heat of the beast inside her warmed her skin. She loved the taste of him, in ways that were not necessarily good. But she didn’t want him to stop. Maybe that was selfish, but she wanted to know what it was like to be loved with gentleness and care.

  “No. I don’t want to stop.”

  Slowly, as if knowing her acquiescence was a troubled one, he barely brushed his thumb across her nipple, restraining himself.

  “That feels good.” She reached for the buttons on his shirt, undoing them so she could slip her hand to the warm skin beneath.

  Peter checked his need, detecting her hesitation, the shakiness of her hand as she laid it on his chest. He needed to go slowly with her. Make sure she knew he wasn’t like the other men in her life.

  With that in mind, his movements were patient. He explored her breast, holding it in his hand while bringing her nipple to a hard peak with his thumb. Her skin was satiny and smooth. A little warmer now, but still cold.

  He shifted closer to heat her body with his and his hips butted against hers. She stiffened at the feel of his erection and gazed up at him with a mixture of longing and concern.

  “We stop whenever you want. We do whatever you want to do.”

  Samantha didn’t want to stop. Not just yet. Although the beast within was awakening along with her desire, she could still control it. And as long as she could, she wanted to savor being with this caring and loving man. Maybe she could even hold off the beast long enough to make love with him.

  “I’m still cold, can you warm me up?” She reached for the hem of her sweater even before he did, but when she tossed it aside, she suddenly felt awkward. Exposed. She covered herself with her arms.

  Peter wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to him. He moved his hands against her back in a soothing gesture. “Don’t be afraid of me. I would never hurt you.”

  How she yearned to believe that. Yet she had no doubt that if he knew what she really was, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her. As a cop, he was forced into decisions like that all the time. Driving those disturbing thoughts away, she snuggled against him and relished the heat of his body, the tenderness of his movements.

  But the animal in her refused to stay still. It memorized the scent of his skin, strained to hear the lub-dub of his heart and the singing of the blood rushing through his veins. The beast began to awaken and her body warmed.

  “That’s better,” he said, obviously noting the change in the temperature of her skin.

  “Yes. Thank you.” She drew away from him, giving him an unobstructed view of her breasts.

  His gaze dipped down, much as she had expected it would. He was a man after all. He caressed her arm before slowly moving his hand to just above the swell of her right breast. He paused to trace the gentle rise with his fingers.

  “I love the feel of your skin. The color of it, like coffee ice cream.”

  His words brought a smile to her lips. “Ice cream, Detective? You do have a sweet tooth, don’t you?”

  “Hmm.�
� He slowly cupped her breast. Then he surprised her by taking the peaked tip of her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

  It dragged a shocked gasp from her. “Can I taste?” he asked. “See if it’s as delicious as it looks?”

  She could only nod, then he bent his head, brushed his lips against the hard peak. His movements were tender as he sampled her.

  She closed her eyes against the sight and feel of him. The emotions were so intense her body was shaking with both fear and passion.

  Gently he kissed her nipple, alternating his fingers and mouth until she moaned and held his head to her. It was only then that he relented and wrapped his lips around the hard tip. Heat raced along her nerve endings and between her legs. She grew damp with wanting him, with the need for his sensitive and tender loving.

  She opened her eyes, mesmerized, the tug of his kiss creating a sympathetic pull inside. It was so strong, she had to part her legs and, in tune with her, he lowered his hand to her buttocks and drew her leg over his.

  He slipped his thigh between hers, until it was tucked against her center. The pressure assuaged her need…but just a little. Desire was growing almost faster than she could control it.

  Peter was so hard, it was painful, but he kept his desire in check, knowing how fragile this was between them, how delicate her emotions were. Dragging himself from the sweetness of her breast, he met her lips, wanting her to be with him as they moved toward making love.

  Her opened mouth sent a shock wave roiling through him. It hadn’t been his imagination the other day. Their kiss had been that wonderful. It was as amazing tonight. Repeatedly he savored the shape and feel of her mouth with his lips. Tasting the freshness of her breath and relishing the slide of her tongue as the kiss grew more intense.

  He pressed his thigh to her center, and, through the fabric of his pants, the heat and damp of her arousal called to him. All across her body, the chill from earlier was gone, replaced by a delicious heat.

  He moved his hand down, taking his time as he skimmed along her smooth skin and slender torso. Past her ribs to her waist, where he shifted inward and found the tempting indentation of her navel. He slipped his thumb against the perfect hollow and she shivered.

  “Sshh,” he whispered against her lips. “We’ll take it slow, Samantha.”

  “Peter.” He almost came at the needy sound of his name on her lips. He wanted to hear her cry it out as they moved together.

  His erection butted against her hips, reminding Samantha of where this would lead—if she could control the beast that was battling to emerge.

  She laid her head beside his, met his lips in another kiss. Between her legs, there was an intense ache and she ground down onto his thigh to relieve the yearning.

  Heat built within her as the smells of their arousal scented the air. When he lowered his head to her breast once more and gently teethed her nipple, she cried out in pleasure. But that tender bite inflamed the beast.

  Samantha closed her eyes and struggled against it, bringing her head tight against the fresh clean smell of Peter’s hair, reminding herself of sunlight and his humanity.

  She had almost restored control, when he slipped free the fastening on her jeans and found the core of her with his fingers.

  The feel of him sent her over the edge and released the demon.

  Chapter 14

  H er shove was so forceful Peter had to grab the edge of the mattress to keep from going over the side. Before he knew what was happening, she raced past him and into the bathroom. The door slammed shut with a resounding thud.

  He lay on the bed, his breathing heavy with passion. He took but a moment for a deep breath and then walked to the door of the bathroom. “Samantha. Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry, Peter,” she said. “So sorry.” The rough sound of her voice carried through the door.

  “It’s okay, Samantha. I understand,” He wished she would open the door and let him comfort her.

  “You can’t possibly understand. Go away, Peter.”

  It was useless to argue with her right now. Her emotions were too conflicted and too fragile. So instead, he put on his shirt and sat in a comfortable-looking rocker in the far corner of the room.

  He would wait for her.

  She lay curled into a ball at the foot of the door. With her ear pressed to the wood, she heard his movements and then nothing.

  The wait allowed her to regain control. She was back to being human, but she needed to feed. Tonight’s physical and emotional roller coaster ride had drained her. Making sure the door was still locked, she moved to the large vanity. From the small refrigerator tucked within, she extracted not one, but two blood bags.

  She quickly drained both of them, carefully wrapped them in a garbage bag for disposal, and rinsed her mouth clean. She peered into the vacant mirror. It had been so long since she’d seen her reflection, she wondered how she appeared to humans. What about her had caught Peter’s interest?

  Peter. If tonight had taught her one thing it was that she couldn’t control herself enough to be with him.

  Shaking her head, she slipped out of her jeans and tossed them into the corner by the tub. At the door, she grabbed her terry cloth robe from the hook and eased it on. Belting it tightly, she went back into her bedroom, her mind and gaze focused on the empty bed. She laid her hand on the indentation where he’d rested. It was still warm. Or maybe she was just imagining that it was.

  “I’m still here.”

  She jumped at the sound of his voice and whirled to find him sitting in her rocker. The question escaped her lips before she could stop it. “Why?”

  “Why?” he repeated. He walked toward her, stopping about a foot away, as if aware she couldn’t handle anything more. “I know you’ve had a rough life. That you may have issues.”

  “You can’t even imagine.”

  “I don’t want to imagine. I want you to tell me. When you’re ready. I want you to trust me enough to tell me what happened tonight.”

  He cupped her cheek once again and despite her misgivings, she leaned into the tenderness of that simple caress, and found herself back in his arms, gripping him tightly.

  “I’m sorry, Peter. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.”

  His hold on her tightened and his tone was hard as he said, “Maybe we rushed things, but in time—”

  She silenced him with a harsh laugh and pulled away. Time? She had all the time in the world and then some. And even with all that time, it wouldn’t be enough to forget all the hurt she’d suffered. This whole human-vampire thing was impossible no matter how much time she was willing to devote. “You can’t possibly understand, Peter.”

  “Understand what? That you were abused? That your life so far has sucked?”

  His voice was rough with emotion and she saw the pain in his gaze. He’d been hurt, too. “I’m sorry if you’ve suffered also, but that doesn’t change this—”

  “This? What’s this?”

  “This being what I am. What you are.” She motioned to both of them with her hand.

  “What are you?” he asked, bending toward her to search her face.

  “Different.”

  He straightened and dragged a hand through the shaggy locks of his hair in exasperation. “Different,” he repeated. “Is that why those two men were after you tonight. Because you’re different?”

  They were treading on dangerous ground. “Just leave it alone, Pete
r.” She turned away from him, but he grabbed her arm and pressured her to face him once more.

  “You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore, Samantha. You can’t. Too many people rely on you. Too many people care for you.”

  Emotion rose up sharply within her. Raw and demanding. She’d been alone for so long and she’d handled it. She’d never thought that having others—especially human others—in her life would complicate it so. They were fragile and could be hurt if those men came back. And then there were her vampire friends, disappearing too regularly. Not as fragile and yet still in need of protection.

  She looked up at Peter. Of all the things she knew about him, she was most certain of two—Peter was both a hero and a protector. Danger had come to the front steps of her home and he’d helped her vanquish it. Maybe it was time to trust him, before things got any worse.

  “Three of my friends are missing.”

  He seemed surprised that she had confided in him, but quickly schooled that emotion. “Why haven’t you called the police?”

  She shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself, contemplating how to explain and how to lie. “We’re different, Peter. We live on the edge—”

  “Which means you’re not the kind of people the police usually help? I’m here. I’m willing to help.” He held his hands out, not only to stress his point, it seemed to her, but to invite her into his arms. But she couldn’t place herself in his hands. Not just yet.

  “We frequent The Blood Bank.” She sat on the edge of the bed.

  Peter crouched in front of her, smack in the middle of her line of sight, where it was impossible not to see him. Or for him not to see her, she realized.

  “I had to question someone at that bar once. It’s a rough place and barely legal. Why do you—”

  “Does it matter why we go there? We do.”

  “Because you’re…different. And now three of you—”