Page 71 of Bruised MC Bear

4

Vincent

She was a feisty little thing.

Brave too, believing she was any match for me, an over three-hundred-year-old vampire. My only reaction was one of lust, but not for her blood. Having her body taut against me, the scent of her adrenaline-filled blood rushing through her veins were but a candle to the raging heat between her legs. She was aroused. That knowledge was like a sensual attack on my groin. Before she moved off, I had already grown hard for her, and I was sure she felt the throb of my bulge while her inner thighs practically wrapped around my waist.

I smiled all the way to the hotel. This could be an enjoyable weekend after all. Probably much more fun if Sonya would relax that gorgeous face and smoking hot body of hers. Pale, creamy skin, those light blue eyes both innocent and fierce, jet black flowing hair, pouty red lips, delicate facial features, erect nipples pebbling under her silky bra and thin t-shirt, jeans hugging her slender hips, and mile-long legs.

Licking my lips, I enjoyed perusing Sonya as she used her phone to avoid me at all costs. Tapping away at a cell phone, filled with ire at my boldness, she seemed all the more intriguing. We arrived at the hotel, and Sonya didn’t wait for the driver to let her out. She promptly opened the door closest to her and bolted around to stand beside the trunk of the car. A curbside bellman arrived with a luggage cart.

“Allow me to help you with your bags, ma’am,” he said to her as I stepped out.

“Sure,” she answered, seeming drained. “Thank you.”

“Are my keys ready?” I asked him.

“Definitely, Mr. Belmont. The entire thirtieth floor is reserved for you and your party. I’ll get your guest a key to the suite beside yours.”

“No!” Sonya barked at him, then she lowered her voice to add, “I would prefer a room on another floor. I’ll check in myself.”

“Miss—”

“Miss Isabelle. Sonya Isabelle. Do you need a credit card to hold the room?”

“We don’t, but I’m sorry, Miss Isabelle. We’re fully booked this weekend. Only the thirtieth-floor suites are available for your group.”

“I understand. It’s fine, but if you can, I’d like to be a few doors down from Mr. Belmont.” She turned to me, scowling. “No offense, Mr. Belmont.”

“None taken.”

The bellman nodded. “That will be no problem. If you’d like, I’ll show you to the room now, and bring your keys to you right after. This way, you don’t have to wait. Check-in has been rather busy this afternoon.”

“Okay. Sure.”

“Excellent choice. After you, ma’am.” He waited for us to go in ahead and followed with her things.

“Thanks.” She tilted her head, scrutinizing the contents of the cart. Turning to me at the elevator bay, she asked, “Don’t you have any clothes for the weekend?”

“They’re already up in my room.”

“Oh. I forgot you own the place.”

The door to my suite was closest to the elevators, so I stopped at my door instead of escorting her to her room. “I’ll see you later on, Miss Isabelle. At dinner, I believe, but if you need anything at all, call down to the front desk or send me a text. Anytime.”

Huffing, she kept walking and didn’t give me an answer.

I had a few hours of business to attend to. Entering my suite, I headed to my office at the end of the hall and got started. Less than an hour into it, my cell phone buzzed on my desk with a text from Sonya.

Her message read,“I owe you an apology.”

I replied with,“I’ll only accept it in person.”

I smiled when her answer came in at the same time as her knock on my door. Her message read,“Fine.”