Page 28 of A Bond Beyond Blood (The Butcher’s Daughter Trilogy #1)

J ack

The atmosphere shifted when Vinny stepped back inside the apartment, his body tense with distress or annoyance—I couldn’t tell.

A gust of brisk December air followed him inside.

Tightening my cardigan around myself, I held my tongue as he walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet above the sink to retrieve the whiskey I kept there for emergencies—or wallowing, when those moments popped up.

I narrowed my eyes as I watched Vinny pour himself a couple fingers, then toss it back.

Who was on that call?

My heart beat faster as I considered how to ask when it really wasn’t my business.

“Everything’s fine, little Fiorino,” he said, obviously hearing the rhythm of my pulse, but his clipped tone would indicate otherwise.

I sighed and he turned around, watching me from across the breakfast bar.

After a moment, Vinny dragged his hands down his face.

“I’m not...” He paused, took a deep breath, then gave his head a quick shake.

“Never mind. Not today. It’s New Year’s Eve and you had one hell of a disappointing Christmas.

” He pushed off the counter and made his way back to me, both physically and mentally it seemed, judging by the smile gracing his beautiful face.

He settled onto the couch and carefully pulled me onto his lap so I straddled him.

Sliding his hands beneath my cardigan, he cupped my hips, the thin t-shirt and pajama pants I put on after I finally took a bath this morning doing very little to keep the pressure of his hands from sending a thrill of anticipation through me.

He tipped his head back against the couch cushion and looked up at me. “Tell me, what did you and your old man usually get up to for New Year’s Eve?”

My heart warmed at the question and the sincere curiosity in his eyes.

I’d been sparring with Vinny multiple times a week for a year now, and though we’d gotten to know one another in that time, nothing had prepared me for how much he’d truly care to know me.

The way he asked about family traditions and spoke of my father—at times, it even sounded as though he’d known him.

My brow furrowed as I asked, “Did you know my father?” I’d always assumed that he did— everyone knew the neighborhood butcher—but for the first time, I wondered if there was more than the casual friendship Dad had with most everyone in the borough.

“You know that I did.”

“Yeah, but...” I narrowed my eyes, considering the dates. “You didn’t go to high school together, right?”

Vinny’s lips twitched. “That math...” He chuckled and squeezed my hips. “It’s not mathing.”

Right. I should have known that. Dad would have been in high school decades after Vinny.

“I knew your grandpa, though. Franco’s father.”

The words surprised me, then I giggled at the idea that Vinny and my grandpa would be the same age right now—if Grandpa Gus was still alive and Vinny hadn’t been turned when he was just twenty-four years old.

Vinny’s gaze flicked back and forth between my eyes. “Did that just freak you out?”

I snorted. “Not as much as it should have.”

“You’re coming around,” Vinny said, a hint of pride in his voice. “I like to think I had something to do with that.”

He had all to do with that.

The scent of whatever was simmering on the stove reached me and I tilted my head, breathing in the richness of fresh basil and garlic... celery... “Are you superstitious, Vincenzo?” I teased.

His eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”

“Lentil soup?”

Vinny winked and I melted. “Who couldn’t use a little good luck?” He shrugged and nodded toward the kitchen. “My grandmother’s recipe.”

Could this man get any more attractive? I had my doubts. I grinned and leaned forward, pressing my lips to his in a slow, tender kiss. When I pulled back, his brow was furrowed.

He licked his lips slowly as if savoring the slight hint of me that remained. “What was that for?”

I shrugged. “Just...” Another shrug. “I don’t know, you surprise me.”

Vinny’s eyes glittered with a spark of mischief as his hands flexed on my waist and he tugged me forward, lifting his hips as he did so.

He grinned when I gasped at the hard thickness pressing between my legs.

“You surprise me too, Jacqueline.” He brought his mouth to my jawline and kissed his way to my ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and teasing it with a light flick of his tongue.

I shivered and he pulled me forward again, dragging me along the length of his growing erection as he claimed my mouth once more, tongue delving in to dance with mine with firm, hungry strokes.

I wrapped my hands around his neck and laced my fingers at the base of his skull, holding him to me as he kissed me senseless.

I’d gone from hating vampires with every ounce of my being, to kissing one of them like he was the air I needed to breathe, to live.

I couldn’t pinpoint a turning point even if I tried. I’d fallen for him long ago, even while I continued to pretend I didn’t have feelings, didn’t want him with every ounce of my being. Even as I pushed him away and ignored how desperately I was already his.

Spending so much time with Vinny had softened my anti-vampire stance, at least toward him . Other vampires, well, I still had my doubts that they weren’t all bloodsucking abominations, parasites that fed on us and destroyed our world to create their own.

One of those very monsters had forced my father into a blood bond that would stay with my family until the vampire’s final death.

Years, generations of indebted Fiorinos.

.. if that wasn’t evil, I didn’t know what was.

But that thought brought with it a reminder that I hadn’t been completely honest with Vinny.

He needed to know what brought about my vendetta, needed to know about the blood bond forged between my father and Eli—

“Hey,” Vinny murmured against my mouth. “Come back to me.”

I breathed deeply, then rested my forehead against his. “I think...” I swallowed hard. His cock twitched between my legs and I hated myself for what I was about to do to him. To us both. We couldn’t seem to keep our hands off one another and, God, I didn’t want to.

But... “I think we need to talk.”

Vinny pulled back to look into my eyes, his own eyes worried as he searched mine. “That’s never a good sentence.”

I laughed softly, then said, “I’m not breaking up with you, if that’s—” The words stalled on my tongue and my belly bottomed-out.

Oh. Oh no.

Vinny’s eyebrows crept up his forehead slowly.

His reaction told me that, yes, I had actually said that out loud.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish fighting for breath out of water.

I’d just implied we were together , when we’d never discussed anything of the sort and had only just begun hooking up, what, a week ago?

“Oh my god,” I groaned, hiding my face in my hands.

When the silence stretched on long enough that I felt like I might burst free of my skin, I peeked out at him through my fingers.

Vinny’s teeth sank into his bottom lip, then a smile curved those lips into something deliciously panty-melting. “Little Fiorino,” he rumbled, “did you just imply—”

“Don’t.” I squeezed my eyes shut and started to pull away but his hands on my hips tightened, immediately immobilizing me with his superhuman strength. Not fair.

“You’re not getting away from me that easily, Jacqueline.” His words were deep and low, a warning tinged with desire that lit a fire in my veins. “Look at me.”

I opened my eyes and dropped my hands.

“I’m glad you’re not breaking up with me.”

My mouth fell open again, but I promptly closed it. “You’re not...” I swallowed hard, trying to find the words. My pulse beat rapidly. Rejection would be painful, especially after all I’d lost and all that had happened in recent weeks. “You’re not mad, or... or... freaked out? Most guys would—”

Vinny’s hands flexed on my hips, then he dragged me forward again, yanking a moan from my lips. “Do I look like most guys to you?” he growled, but before I could answer, his mouth sealed over mine and swallowed any response I may have come up with.

This kiss was intense, deeper than the last one, his hands roving all over me as he expressed wordlessly how absolutely not freaked out he was.

Moving in that impossibly fast way of his, Vinny flipped me onto my back gently as he stretched out above me, his body sinking onto mine with the perfect amount of pressure as he settled his hardness against my core.

He growled as he kissed me harder, rocking his hips to create friction between us that caused an ache to build between my legs, a needy, demanding pulse.

“Vinny,” I gasped, and he answered with another growl as he rocked against me.

He pulled back, tugging his pants down, then my own, and as he stared into my eyes, he dropped back down between us, lining himself up with my entrance. I whimpered when he paused, teasing me with his closeness.

“Do I appear to be freaked out, Jacqueline?”

Swallowing hard, I shook my hand.

“No, sweet girl.” He shook his head as he brought his lips to mine and kissed me long and slow, patiently drawing it out until I squirmed beneath him, the need humming through my veins making it impossible to stay still.

Vinny smirked, then slowly rocked his hips forward, driving into me with infuriating slowness.

I whined and he shushed me. “I’m savoring this,” was all he said, then he kissed his way across my cheeks, pressing his nose against my ear as he inhaled. When he was all the way seated inside me, he said, “Now be still. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re still healing.”

With a frustrated groan, I shoved both hands into the back of his pants to latch onto his ass, dug my fingers into it, and pulled him harder toward me, gasping at the tinge of pain that morphed into pleasure.

He chuckled at my impatience, the intoxicating sound deep and low in his throat, but I was done playing.

“Fuck me,” I pleaded. “ Hard .”

He pulled back and searched my gaze with wide, deep crimson eyes, then, seeing the determined look in my eyes, the pleading I tried to convey, Vinny gave a curt nod and did as I asked, fucking me as if I hadn’t spent all week recovering from an ass-kicking.

He drove into me with thrusts that made me moan and whimper each time, grunting with the force of each jut of his hips.

I’d be bruised later, deliciously sore right there between my thighs where his hips slammed against the soft flesh.

But if I’d learned anything since I began training with Vinny a year ago, it was that my body healed faster than it should.

I knew now that there was a likely a reason for that—though I didn’t want to entertain the idea that Eli’s blood had anything to do with my body’s ability to heal itself quickly.

Maybe I was just strong, you know?

Right. Like Flintstone multivitamins and daily glasses of milk could be responsible for freakishly inhuman healing abilities.

I held on tightly and welcomed the pain as Vinny continued his relentless punishing drives, the orgasm building at the base of my spine with a wonderful burn of pressure, a demanding ache that mirrored the one between my legs.

My pussy throbbed, my clit swollen and ripe as he ground against it with each forward drag of his hips.

He pushed back a bit, releasing my mouth so he could hit me at a different angle and I cried out as his cock brushed that sensitive place inside me and sent the first wave of release through my limbs.

He reached between us and thumbed my clit, the contact sending me right over into oblivion.

My body tensed, then quaked as I clung to him, his thumb making slow, firm strokes over my clit as he slowed his thrusts, matching his fucking with my waves of pleasure until I began to crest the other side of my climax, then he pulled me into his arms, limp ragdoll that I was, and held me to his chest as he jerked his hips up once, twice, then a third, final time that shook my body with the power of his release.

He buried his head in my neck, murmuring my name and words of praise that warmed me up like only he knew how to do.

Our impending conversation was inevitable, but I couldn’t complain when avoidance was this fucking good .