Page 27

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ZAND

W e went back to the loft so Chanel and I could get a few hours of sleep. I needed time to refresh. I needed to be in the best shape and headspace for the showdown at Belmont Harbor.

We stepped off the elevator and entered the living room. Chanel walked toward the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder

“Do you need a drink? I’m getting water.”

“No, I’m good.” I followed her into the kitchen. She placed her purse on the kitchen island.

“You know, you don’t have to put on a brave face. If you want to stay here tonight you can. You don’t have to come with us tonight.”

“No. I want to go with you.” Chanel opened the cabinet reached in and grabbed a tall empty glass. “I want to see her. I want her to see me.”

“I’m not going to let her get to you.” I walked away and leaned against the island.

“With you is the safest place for me.” She said and it was true. No one would protect her the way I would.

I couldn’t argue with that. “I hope she shows up.”

“She will.” Chanel walked to the refrigerator and placed the glass at the door. She pushed the lever for the water to pour into her glass.

“How do you know?”

“She’s a vampire, but she’s like any other woman. She views me as competition. She won’t miss a chance to see me up close. She wants to confront me. She’ll be there.” Chanel raised the glass to her lips and took a sip of the water.

“If I haven’t said it before I’m sorry.”

“Sorry. What for?”

“I’m sorry I brought her into your life.

My ex, I’m sorry she’s here doing all these things to you, to us.

I’m sorry she killed all those women. I’m sorry she murdered Morgan.

I’m just sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.

I never thought she would take it this far. You don’t deserve any of this.”

“You don’t have to apologize for her. You just promise to kill her.”

“I will kill her.” I assured Chanel. Killing Teresa was my top priority.

“You used to love her, right? You married her.”

“I did.” And I hated myself for it.

“And she’s the reason you left California?”

I opted, to be as honest as possible. “Yes, I tried to stay there and coexist, but my presence put people in danger.”

“What’s that mean?” Chanel took another drink of water from her glass.

“Teresa killed a woman I went on two dates with. An innocent woman I barely knew. A woman died only because she casually knew me. I had to leave. I knew I would never forgive her, so I left L.A. I disappeared. I moved somewhere I knew she wouldn’t look for me.

It took her five years to find me here in Chicago. ”

“Five years is a long time to disappear.” Chanel placed her glass down on the kitchen island.

“It is. I refuse to believe she’s been pining away for me after all this time. I don’t understand her motivation for coming here, staying here and then murdering all those innocent women. Why did she turn Marisol? After all the things she’s done, it feels like I never knew her.”

“That was the same feeling I had with Lonzo. I thought I knew him, and I didn’t. He was a monster.”

Chanel reached for her purse and accidentally knocked her water glass off the edge of the island. The glass collided with the floor, sending broken pieces of glass in all directions.

I instinctively bent to clean it up. Chanel knelt too. I grabbed a large shard of glass. I didn’t even feel it pierce my finger. I only noticed it when I felt Chanel’s eyes on me.

“Oh, my god. You’re bleeding.”

My eyes peered down to my finger, and she was right. I was bleeding. I stood when Chanel did. She reached out and grabbed my hand, inspecting the cut on my index finger. Before I could tell her, it will heal in under a minute, she put my finger in her mouth to stop the bleeding.

It took less than two seconds before she realized what she was doing. I could see the panic spread across her face.

She took a step back, and I caught her by the wrist. Be careful. Broken glass.” I warned.

“Oh.” There was still alarm altering her features.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I tasted your blood. I mean, drank it. I don’t know. What’s that mean? What’s that mean?” She frantically asked.

I took her other wrist in my hand. “Chanel, it doesn’t mean anything. That’s not how it works.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. You’re shaking. Babe, you’re not going to be a vampire. You could drink a gallon of my blood, and it wouldn’t make the difference.”

I took a step over the broken glass that was on the floor. I released her wrists and took Chanel’s hand. I led her out of the kitchen and into the living room. I pulled her to sit beside me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I freaked out.”

“It’s okay. My cut is healed. You’re still human. All is right with the world.”

Chanel chuckled, but I could see she was still unnerved.

“I have to work on my reflexes.” I told her. “I didn’t know you were going to put my finger in your mouth.” I tried to make light of the situation.

“I didn’t know I was going to do that. I can’t believe I put your bloody finger in my mouth.”

“What did it taste like?” I asked.

“I don’t know. It was so quick.” Chanel’s panic changed into curiosity. “Does blood turn you on? Or is it just food for survival?”

“Your blood turns me on.” I licked my lips, reminiscing on its rich flavor. “A stranger’s blood would just be nourishment. The blood bags are just nourishment.”

“My blood turns you on,” she said, not as a question but as a diagnosis, an unwrapping of a secret I’d never meant to show her.

I couldn’t deny her. She studied my face, hunting for any tell that might let her dismiss her next words as fantasy. When she found none, her voice dropped low. “I want to taste it again.”

I blinked. “Taste it?”

“Your blood.”

She slid closer to me on the couch.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Her distress was gone and replaced with interest. I grabbed her under her arms and scooped her up into my lap. I pushed her back so her head could rest on a pillow. Her pretty brown eyes were focused on me, trusting me and begging me to guide her.

I unbuttoned her blouse slowly, revealing her lacy bra underneath.

She moaned as I teased her through the fabric, causing her nipples to harden.

I then reached for her zipper and lowered her skirt down her legs.

I discarded it on the floor, exposing her black lace panties that left nothing to my imagination.

My pants were growing tighter by the second.

Chanel’s hand slid up the length of my arm, slow and deliberate, as if she was testing the reality of me.

“Are you sure?” I asked. It wasn’t like me to ask for consent so many times, but this was Chanel. I only wanted to make her comfortable.

She shook her head yes, and I felt the bulge in my pants become increasingly more unbearable.

As she watched me, I let my fangs slowly descend from my gums. Lifting my hand to my mouth, I let the sharp point stab at the tip of my finger. When the blood began to pool on my skin, I slipped my finger into Chanel’s mouth.

I watched her take my finger into her mouth and suck it like she sucked my cock. I was aroused. I could feel the glow of my eyes and the hunger in my throat.

Our lips crashed together in a kiss, tongues tangling and wrestling for dominance as we explored every inch of each other’s mouths. Her hands raked through my hair while I ferociously gripped her thigh, desperate to bring her even closer.

I tasted my own blood on her tongue. It made me crave the taste of her blood.

Chanel took control, kissing me fiercely as she unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants.

Her warm hand wrapped around my erection through my boxers, stroking me through the fabric.

I groaned in pleasure, unable to contain myself any longer.

She teased me with her tongue, running it along my jawline as I leaned over her.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I lifted her off my lap and slip from underneath her.

I stood to remove my shirt, shoes and pants.

I stood above her body as she laid across the couch.

With my solid cock pointed at her, I watched her shimmy out of her panties and her open blouse.

The tangy aroma of her shaved pussy traveled to my nose and called to me.

I slowly climbed down on top of her, spreading her legs apart with one hand.

With the other, I slid my fingers into her pussy, finding that she was already soaking wet for me.

I teased her opening before slipping a finger inside her, causing her to moan loudly.

I added another finger, thrusting them in and out in time with her moans.

Chanel rocked her hips against my hand, urging me on faster and faster.

I obliged, picking up the pace as I stared into her eyes, communicating my desire for more.

With one swift motion, I removed my fingers.

I felt her hand reach between us and seize my cock.

She guided me inside of her wet honey pot.

We both moaned in unison as our bodies connected.

I began to move slowly at first, but soon picked up speed as Chanel wrapped her legs around my waist, urging me deeper inside of her core.

I slowly dove into the deepest parts of her ocean.

I moved my hips in controlled waves. I wanted to savor the current and get lost in her kitty pool.

Reaching up, I pulled her bra down, and her breasts spilled out from their lacy confines. My rough hands pinched at her nipples, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body as I leaned down to take one erect nipple into my mouth, sucking hard while teasing the other with my thumb.

“Fuck,” she managed to cry out between gasps for air. “Zand... please.” She arched into me helplessly as I continued to torment both nipples with my teeth and fingers until she was begging for release.

With a devilish grin, I asked. “Please, what?”

“Bite me.” She begged as I looked into her insistent eyes.