Page 10 of Every Bite You Take (Midnight Siren Supernatural Cruises #1)

CHAPTER 10

DAMIEN

S tay in control. Don’t do anything rash.

The feel of Kylie’s lips on my cheek still warmed my skin, leaving such an impression. If my hands weren’t occupied by holding her in my arms, I would have brushed my fingers over them to capture that sensation. It almost felt—magical.

The elevator came and fortunately we had it to ourselves. Once we stepped inside, her scent enveloped me. I needed to control my reaction to the scent of her blood—so utterly enticing that my hunger for her grew ravenous.

But I couldn’t let the monster come out. Not when I’d seen the fear in her eyes when my fangs had emerged. Not when my craving would scare her away. I had to regain some self-control. The slow, repetitive human motion of deep breath often helped.

The elevator door opened and I nudged my chin up. Her arms were looped around my neck as I held her, stirring a protective instinct inside me. The rhythm of her heart drummed in my ear, lulling me deeper under her spell.

Once we exited on my floor, I carried her down to my room. “Can I put you down for a second to open the door?”

She glanced at the door and back at me. “Where are you taking me?” She furrowed her brows.

“My cabin.” Somehow my voice came out steady—the exact opposite of the tumult churning inside. “We can clean your cut up in there.”

“Oh.” Her voice sounded breathy. “I figured you were taking me to see the healing bay.”

Fuck. Why hadn’t I thought to bring her to a healer and instead carry her to my room like some caveman?

“Right, I can bring you there,” I said, catching the strangled edge in my tone. “My cabin’s closer.” Was that a save? Not likely.

“Your cabin’s fine,” she said in a gentle voice.

I never knew three words could stir such elation. Once I put her on her non-injured leg to retrieve my card and swipe it to open the door, I pushed it open and lifted her back up.

“I can walk.” She beamed at me. “But this is nice.”

More than nice. Absolute perfection.

I carried her into my cabin and an awareness grew of the intimacy of carrying her into my tiny room where the focal point was my bed. I gently placed her on it.

She drew in a long breath as she scanned my shoe-box-sized living space.

“We don’t get the penthouse suites,” I joked to lighten the mood.

“It’s similar to mine,” she said with a smile. She extended her leg across the bed and glanced down at it. “Oh, gross. I’m still bleeding.” She turned away with a repulsed expression.

Yes, I was painfully aware of the coppery scent of her blood and how it beckoned me.

“I’ll get a washcloth.” Since the bathroom was only a few steps away, it didn’t take long for me to wet a cloth and add soap.

Before I went back out and lost control, I repeated a chant in my head: Be good, be good, be good. Stay strong, stay strong, stay strong.

As I sat beside her extended leg, she avoided looking in my direction. The scent and sight of her blood once more stirred a fierce wave of hunger and my fangs lengthened. The beast inside me clawed at the surface, urging me to bite and claim her. I fought against the primal urge and focused on what she trusted me to do. When I placed the wet washcloth on her cut, she winced.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She nodded before she followed with a yes. Then she turned her head to look at me, and her eyes widened. “Are you?”

Aside from being surrounded by her intoxicating scent? By being hyper-aware of her stretched out on my bed? Being so drawn to every detail of her—from the sound of her voice to the thrum of her heartbeat?

“Yes,” I managed to reply despite the intense struggle.

After I cleaned her wound, I applied pressure. Endless seconds ticked by.

“I shouldn’t get so squeamish around blood. It’s a long story,” she said.

I gave her a gentle smile to encourage her. “We should sit here for a while anyway.”

She laughed, then shook her head. “True.” She exhaled. “I think I can tell a short version. It’s just something I don’t tell—well, anyone.”

And she was going to trust me with her secret? I was all ears. “I’ll keep what you tell me to myself.”

“I appreciate that.” Her lips turned downward and I wished I could undo whatever it was that made her feel that way. “So here goes.” She placed her hands on her thighs with an audible sound. “When I was nine, my parents split up. I didn’t know why at the time and blamed it on myself. Over the next year or two, I started to learn more. There was another woman. And she wasn’t just any woman, but a vampire. I found out in the most awful, terrifying, mortifying way.” Her gaze drifted off, as if she were picturing it.

I listened, enraptured to her story, and didn’t dare interrupt.

“I walked into the bedroom and found them in bed together. Naked. She was on top of him. When she turned to me, I saw it all—her red eyes, her fangs, the blood…” Kylie squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. “And the bite marks on his neck with blood trickling down.”

I sucked in a breath involuntarily.

She slowly opened her eyes and found mine. “My dad left my mom—and me—to be with this vampire.” Kylie’s lips curled with distaste. “And when I was a teenager, she changed him into one.”

“Shit. I’m so sorry, Kylie. No wonder you feel the way you do.” I dropped my head an inch. “You must hate vampires now. Think we’re all monsters.” Including me.

She bit her lower lip. “No. How could I? My father’s one.” She paused. “Even if I hated them both—and vampires in general—for a very long time.” She shrugged one shoulder. “But he’s family. And she’s my stepmother. I had to get over it if I wanted to have a relationship with my dad.”

I nodded with relief, swallowing the lump in my throat. We sat for several seconds without saying anything.

“I’m going to check your leg now,” I told her.

She was still bleeding.

She sucked in a hiss. “Damn, it still stings.” She released a slow exhale. “Hope I don’t need to get stitches—or worse, end up dealing with this pain the entire trip.” She let out a mirthless chuckle. “Talk about bad timing.”

She wouldn’t, not if she let me take care of the wound. I didn’t dare bring it up, though, not with her revulsion to blood. Especially after the story she’d just confided in me. The very act would repulse her.

“It will stop—eventually,” I assured her. When I brought my gaze to meet hers, they locked. She searched my eyes.

Her lips parted. “You can do something, can’t you?”

I broke eye contact. Could she read my mind?

I counted. One one-thousand, two one-thousand —anything to avoid this uncomfortable conversation.

“Damien?” she prodded.

I couldn’t ignore her forever.

“Yesss,” I said, my voice trailing off. “My saliva will help you heal much faster than any stitches.”

I was sure that she’d have a look of disgust on her face, but what I saw surprised me—curiosity.

“Will you…” She took a deep breath and began again. “Will you help me?”

Blood surged through my veins at the sweet anticipation of tasting hers. One one-thousand, two one-thousand , I began again, struggling against the rising urges.

“Yes, but…” The sound of her heart thumping entranced me.

“What?” she asked with gentle concern.

Should I admit it? How much I yearned for her? Yes, she deserved to know. “There’s something about you…that calls to me. What if once I have a taste, I can’t stop?”

My shoulders sagged. There, I’d said it. Admitted how I could very well be a monster who’d hurt her.

Kylie swallowed hard. Her hand shook slightly. She inhaled audibly and exhaled slowly. “You’ll be able to control it.” She raised her chin and ran the back of her knuckles over my cheek. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

The steady belief in her tone invigorated me. Of course I’d never hurt her.

“Never,” I promised. My gaze caressed from her trusting eyes down the lines of her body, all the way to her smooth leg that had been teasing me with that enticing aroma.

When I pulled the cloth away, my fangs extended. Her eyes flashed with wariness.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “It’s instinctual.”

“I know.” Her voice trembled slightly.

I hated to see her fear. To have her think of me as a monster. “You’re afraid of me.”

“No,” she said quickly. “Please…”

I searched her eyes, not knowing what she wanted. “Please what?”

“Yes, I get freaked out by blood,” she admitted. “But the other side of that is…curiosity.” She shook her head and mashed her lips together. “No, not a morbid type.” She pushed her hair away. “What I mean is… Damien, don’t hide who you are from me.”

I couldn’t believe she’d even want me to after what she’d revealed. The sound of her heart pounding faster echoed off the confined walls. The atmosphere in the space seemed to shift, thickening with electrifying tension.

I bent down to her leg slowly, keeping my gaze on her face for any sign of her changing her mind, but she didn’t move. She watched me, eyes gleaming with what I read as—fascination.

When I reached her where her crimson blood crossed her smooth leg, I inhaled the sweet ambrosia. The beast in me rose, leaving me on the very shard of self-control. My tongue darted out and captured a drop.

Oh, hell. She tasted even better than I imagined. An involuntary moan eluded me as desire rushed through my veins, settling down in my cock. Her unique tang tasted exquisite, stirring a decadent temptation of both hunger and lust. I licked at the gash to do as I promised, but the struggle not to clamp on and drink from this fountain grew near insurmountable.