Fashionably Hotter Than Hell: Book Six, The Hot Damned Series (5 page)

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Authors: Robyn Peterman

Tags: #Paranormal Romance, #Romantic Comedy

BOOK: Fashionably Hotter Than Hell: Book Six, The Hot Damned Series
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"Heathcliff, I…" She trembled and wrung her hands. Her expression went from unsure to resigned.

 

I waited for more, but no more came. Time to cut my losses and maintain a semblance of pride.

 

As I turned to walk away, her goons immediately replaced me. She glanced at me, then up at the skylights and nodded quickly. The red headed one I wanted to kill held her sagging body up as the European group exited the ballroom. He looked at me strangely and shook his head in disgust. The need to tear him apart was overwhelming, but I refrained. Ethan would be furious if I killed a guest at the party and I needed to let go of anything that had to do with Raquel. Forever.

 

Not a problem. Not at all.

 

I made my way purposefully across the ballroom. The distraction I searched for stood in a group of Vamps gossiping about things I couldn’t give a shit about. But I wasn't looking for brains. I was looking to forget. She would do.

 

"Christina, are you ready to leave?" I asked, ignoring all the giggling and curtsying female Vampyres around her.

 

She glanced up in surprise and then slithered over seductively.

 

"I knew you'd come to your senses," she purred as she locked her arm through mine and winked at her friends.

 

If it were only that simple.

 

Chapter 4

 

"Well, this is disappointing," Christina said flatly as we both stared at my flaccid cock. "You're a Vampyre. You can direct the blood where you want it to go."

 

She was correct, but for the life of me, I couldn't direct it to my dick at the moment. She was beautiful, horny, and mine for the taking. It didn't matter that she couldn't carry on an intelligent conversation. Talking was quite unnecessary. I wanted to blame it on alcohol, but that would be ludicrous. I wasn't drunk, but it would have been a far better excuse than the truth.

 

"It's not you, it's me," I muttered as I grabbed my pants and pulled them on.

 

"Oh my God," she whined. "You are not getting out of here that easily. Let me suck on it."

 

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. If it wasn't so tragic I would have laughed. I had to get the Hell out of here. Now.

 

"Mate with me," she begged as she grabbed my arm and rubbed her naked body against mine. "It will be just fine if we're mated. And if you still can't do it, I won't tell anyone. I promise. I'll find a discreet lover and we can still be an important couple in society."

 

"As wonderful as that sounds, I'll have to pass," I quipped sarcastically. She was nuts. "You deserve a mate who’s besotted with you." I stepped into my shoes and put some distance between us.

 

"That's bullshit. I want you. I want to be rich and powerful. You've always gotten it up before. I swear if you let me suck on it I can get you off. And if my having a lover bothers you, I just won't ever talk about it. You need someone like me at your side," she pleaded. "A man is judged by how his woman presents herself."

 

"I'm sorry. What?"

 

"I'm beautiful. You’re stupidly gorgeous. We’ll be the envy of all if I'm yours. We look perfect together. Everyone knows it's just a matter of time before we mate."

 

That was news to me.

 

"Christina, this has never been more than sex. I have always been upfront with you. I never promised anything more." How much fucking worse could this day get?

 

"Of course," she purred, "but I knew you didn't mean it.

 

"Actually… I did."

 

How had I not realized she was far more into this than I was? And how did I miss that she was certifiable?

 

"I call bullshit," she said as she ran her hands over her voluptuous body and tried yet again to entice me.

 

We both glanced down at my crotch.

 

Nothing.

 

Time to cut my losses and get out. Damn Raquel straight to Hell. I couldn’t have her and now I was letting her stop me from having someone else.

 

"I have to go. It was lovely seeing you again," I said as I bit back a groan at the ridiculous pleasantry that had just left my mouth.

 

"This is not over, Heathcliff," Christina hissed as she rummaged through her bedside drawer and pulled out a vibrator. "You’re mine and I will have you and your limp dick. You'll see."

 

She punctuated her insult with the whirring of her sex toy. I shook my head and did my damnedest not to laugh. She was a piece of work. Thankfully she wasn't my piece of work.

 

Alone for eternity was starting to sound very appealing.

 

"It's over, Christina. You’re a wonderful woman," I lied. "You deserve so much more than me."

 

"Yes, I do, Mr. My Dick Doesn't Work Anymore," she hissed nastily.

 

Her crazed smile of triumph made my skin crawl. I crossed casual sex off my list of hobbies. This had to be one of the worst days of my long life. All I wanted was for it to end.

 

"Goodnight, Christina," I said as I made my way out of her house.

 

"I'll call you, darling," she yelled after me.

 

I walked to my Mercedes CL65 at a fast clip just in case she felt the need to follow me out and negotiate some more.

 

Done.

 

I was done with women.

 

***

 

The party was still in full swing when I arrived back at the Cressida House. I wasn't inclined to be alone with myself so I made my way back to the bar and ordered a scotch and then another and then another.

 

The thought of going to my suite didn't appeal. However, the thought of drinking my cares away and then punching someone certainly did.

 

Hitting people was always a good distraction.

 

***

 

"You really don't want to fuck with me right now," I ground out as another Vamp hit the wall with a thud. Vamps-zero. Heathcliff-eight. This was too easy. Damn it. I wanted to be challenged—not wipe the floor with warriors.

 

Not sure what led me to her suite. I'd like to think it was the alcohol, but I wasn't that drunk. Even the ten scotches I had consumed couldn't be blamed for what I was doing. If I had to explain my actions, I'd have to say it stemmed from the way the red headed bastard had looked at her so possessively earlier in the evening—not to be outweighed by my lack of erection with other women besides her.

 

The bottom line was that Raquel wasn't his. She was mine… at least in my semi-inebriated state she was.

 

"I just want to talk to her," I insisted as I threw the outer door to her suite open and tried to push past him.

 

I'd taken care of the guards in the hallway outside her suite without any problem at all. It felt good to punch a few faces. The sound of bones crunching under my fists satisfied the rage burning inside me.

 

Watching them fall to the floor in agony just fed my need. I wasn't out to kill. I simply wanted to maim. I knew they'd heal quickly. They were old and quite powerful. They had been chosen to protect the Princess after all. Clearly, European Vamps were pussies. Personally, I would have chosen stronger guards but Raquel was not my concern. She had made that very clear.

 

"She does not take visitors in the evening," Jean Paul informed me as he stood in a defensive stance, ready to have a go at me.

 

"Do I look like I care?" I asked as I sized him up.

 

"No, you do
not
look like you care," he said derisively. "And that, my friend, is your main problem."

 

His words confused me, but I was certain I didn't like them or their meaning at all. How could chasing someone for two hundred years equate to not caring? The man was an ass and I wanted a piece of him.

 

"Just move away from her door and I won't hurt you," I reasoned. He knew what I had done to his buddies. Surely he didn't have a death wish.

 

"You'll have to kill me to get to her," he replied calmly.

 

"As you wish." I grinned and popped my knuckles. He was an idiot. We both knew I could take him. There were very few Vampyres in the world I couldn't destroy. Why was he being so obtuse?

 

"
Jean Paul
," I drawled. "You seem like a nice little French guy and I really don't want to kill you. All I want to do is talk to Raquel."

 

Why hadn't she come out here with all of the ruckus? Was my presence so abhorrent to her?

 

"You upset her greatly earlier," he snapped and drew a vicious looking sword. "And I do believe I already stated that she does not take evening visitors."

 

"Except for you?" I demanded. Fuck, I sounded like a jealous fool.

 

He paused and stared hard at me. His head cocked to the side as I watched him consider his answer. Finally he shook his head.

 

"No. Not even me, you ass," he said snidely.

 

"Did you just call me an ass?"

 

"I did," he replied with confidence.

 

"While that may be true, men have died for far less offenses," I told him with a grin as I contemplated removing his weapon and decapitating him with it. The fact that he'd called me an ass was amusing. Against my better judgment, I liked the little French bastard.

 

"How about this," I suggested casually. I relaxed my stance but stayed on guard. His sword was lethal and I wasn't stupid. My deadly reputation hadn’t been earned by being careless. "You take ten steps to the left and I walk through the door and have a little chat with Raquel."

 

"How about this," he countered. "
No
."

 

I laughed. He was good, but I was better. He knew it and so did I, but his dedication was impressive. He was truly willing to die for her. For that reason alone, I would not kill him.

 

"Okay, I see I'm getting nowhere with you. You're refreshing. Not many stand up to me."

 

I eyed him and debated my next move. I couldn't just walk away—it wasn't in my nature.

 

"You don't scare me," he said. "You might scare my Princess, but you don't scare me."

 

What the Hell did that mean? My hands clenched to fists at my sides and I itched to rearrange his face—not permanently. Temporarily.

 

"Fine. Lose the sword. You have my word I will not enter her room. However, I need to release some aggression and your face is an excellent spot for me to do so."

 

"Bring it," he said as he dropped his sword and waited for me to make the first move.

 

Very smart. Little Frenchy wasn't going to be impulsive or careless. His demeanor was casual and alert, but I could scent his excitement and it energized me. Finally a challenge.

 

And so it began… and continued for a very violent and satisfactory hour.

 

By the time we'd finished, the room was destroyed and we were both the worse for wear. Blood and smashed furniture were everywhere. We admired our cuts and bruises. He was a worthy opponent. I hadn't enjoyed a fight that didn't end in death so much in a long time.

 

"Several of your moves were outstanding," I said as I rolled my neck and popped out a few kinks.

 

"Coming from you, that is a great honor," Jean Paul said as he mopped the blood from his forehead. "I wouldn't mind sparring and learning some more while we are here."

 

"It would be my pleasure. How long are you here?" I asked as it occurred to me that I could potentially learn what I wanted to know from my new friend.

 

"As long as the Princess deems fit," he answered carefully.

 

Damn it, why in the fuck was nothing easy for me today?

 

"How about I train you and you answer a few questions?" I suggested as I watched him closely.

 

"No," he replied with a grin and a shrug.

 

"Outstanding." I laughed as I stood gingerly and straightened my torn and bloodied tuxedo. This was going to be fun. I needed some fucking fun. "I'll meet you in the fight training center tomorrow at eleven."

 

"I'll be there," he said respectfully.

 

I glanced up to see an irate Ethan standing in the doorway. "Anyone care to explain why there are eight bloody and passed out European Vampyres in the hallway? And why does this room looks like a goddamned tornado hit it?"

 

"We were testing the reflexes of our guards, Sire," Jean Paul mumbled and bowed.

 

"I see," Ethan said. He crossed his arms over his chest, raised his eyebrow and waited for my explanation.

 

"Jean Paul is correct," I added as I took in yet another room in the compound that I'd had a hand in destroying. Raquel was going to have a fit. Where in the Hell was she? She couldn't possibly have slept through the brawl that had ruined her living quarters.

 

"In that case, meet me in my suite. Now," Ethan said to me as he turned and walked away. "And pick up these idiots in the hallway and send them back to Europe. If they can't defend my sister, they’re not welcome here."

 

I observed my new friend as he stood and walked to the hallway. "You need help?" I asked as he dragged one of the unconscious Vamps into the room.

 

"No, I have this," Jean Paul said. "You should probably go get your ass chewed out by your Prince."

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