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For a second, I imagine the lower register of Gwyn’s seductive laugh as the blonde listens to what her companion has to say.

She sets her glass down on the table and the man grins at her. He looks just like any other brown haired white guy you find at the gym on any given day, but she steps closer to him as he holds out his hand.

I sit up a little straighter as I watch her hips sway.

I need to get laid, I decide. There’s been more than one occasion I’ve woken up, dick hard in my hand with Gwyn’s name on my tongue as I forcibly push the dream’s memory of her naked body out of my mind.

I watch the blonde woman move out to the dance floor with the handsome man, and I wait. One of them is a vampire,certainly, considering they’re here, but I don’t know which one is which.

Based on his aggressive body language, and the way he pulls her pelvis against his, I assume it’s him. He tilts his head down to speak to her, and I wonder if he’s going to bite her.

For some reason, it pisses me off.

I close my eyes and throw back my drink, wondering how Gwyn’s blood somehow tastes like this. Sweet and rich and bold, the taste of this mixed drink gets me hard. And as I stare at the blonde woman, whose thick body and endless curves should be a fucking crime, I decide it’s now or never.

When he puts his hands on her hips, grinding against her, I stand up.

When he tilts his head, exposing his neck to her, I stand still and watch.

And when I catch a glimpse of her profile, fangs glinting in the flashing lights, I can’t move fast enough.

21

GWYN

Adam’s blood is ordinary,almost watered down in comparison to the demon I drank from. But as I draw deep, I can’t help but remember the last time I was close to someone like this, drinking from warm skin as rough hands drag over me. I can almost smell his mint and leather, the smoky aftertaste of Roman nearly overwhelming my own taste buds as I swallow another man’s blood.

Adam groans as he pulls me against him. We’re moving to the music, and I feel his hardness, and then I’m dragging him off the dance floor as his grip moves up my thighs. My hands shake as we stumble to a poorly lit hallway, and for a split second, I want to stop this. Every time I throw my body at my depression, hoping to feel something other than disgust, there’s a moment where I second guess what I’m doing. This one comes when Adam laughs and tries to kiss me.

I could stop this right now.

But I don’t.

Halfway down the hall, we find a door. He’s pulling me into a bathroom that stinks of cherry scented air freshener attempting to cover up the scent of drunken piss that missed the bowl. The sterile lights above us flood the room as we trip themotion sensor, and I wince at the brightness. But I’m quickly preoccupied when Adam grabs my hand, pressing it to the bulge in his pants.

My lips are coated in his blood and when he kisses me, I don’t try to escape it, allowing it to smear across his mouth. It’s messy, and I hate it. But I deserve it. I deserve to find discomfort in this. I don’t want to kiss anyone ever again, let alone random ass Adam from the bar. All I want from him is a quick fuck. I need to get back on the proverbial fuck horse again, and he’s my way through it. It doesn’t even have to be good.

I need someone to erase Roman’s indelible mark on me, and this is my best shot.

I get a text, and the tone is loud enough to stop his movements. He laughs as he finds my phone tucked away in my bra. He dips, pressing his lips to my chest as he tugs at the silky fabric of my shirt. When his fingertips brush the phone, I swat his hand away. Before he can pull it out, before I am faced with a message from Hale or Sasha telling me he’s not coming or that she doesn’t care, I bite him again—hard.

He winces before letting out a soft moan as my teeth sink deep. His hips thrust forward, pinning me against the wall. One large hand snakes up my thigh while the other traces the side of my body, caressing my breast, my waist, my hip, my ass.

As his hand slips under my skirt, he groans when he finds I’m not wearing anything beneath my ripped tights. I almost laugh, wondering if I’m even wet because everything about this feels so fucking forced. But I have to go through with it. I have to rid myself of Roman. I have to move forward, and reclaiming my body as something that doesn’t belong to that imposing asshole is the best way I know how.

“Do you want to know my name?” I ask, breaking away from Adam’s neck for only a second to breathe the question.

“Do I need to?” is his response.

“Fair enough,” I say, and I don’t like the sudden knowledge that Adam might have demons of his own that he’s working through. His hand attempts to paint pleasure across my flesh, but he doesn’t try for long as he stops to unzip his pants.

I close my eyes, inhaling this man’s skin, willing his scent to replace that mint and leather that somehow still haunts me in this dirty bar bathroom. While Adam smells clean and masculine, it’s not enough to overpower the memory of a man who has no business haunting me right now.

Adam positions his cock between my legs, slowly rubbing the tip in a circle over my clit. He thrusts against my skin, attempting to coat himself in my arousal, but I have none to offer. And now I’m thinking about fucking Roman raw, the slick glide of his thickness moving with ease as nothing stood between us except every single lie I ever told.

The friction of Adam’s dick against my dry skin makes me gasp in discomfort, and I bite his neck once more, trying to distract myself. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has tobe.

“Condom?” I ask, breaking away from Adam’s neck as I fall into the familiar dull routine of a medicinal fuck. I lick my lips, wishing we’d picked a more comfortable place. Nothing about this feels right, but that’s never mattered to me before. He continues to thrust against me, making sounds as if he’s enjoying himself profusely.