Sanibel Surrender Vampire Werewolf Menage (Fanged Romance Series Book Five) (3 page)

“I know. I know.” She pressed her fingertips against her temples. “Tatum’s previous marriage was far worse than mine ever was.” Not to mention that Tatum’s ex was now dead. “I get it. I have no reason to complain over Wilson turning his working partner into his bed partner.” When she really thought about it, Molly realized she hadn’t complained much at all, apart from an hour she spent crying on Renee’s shoulders. “Men and Women walk this road daily.”

“Now, did I ever say you didn’t have a reason to complain?” Gage asked. “Pain is pain, doesn’t matter whose is greater. What hurts one may not hurt another. But if it hurts you, Molly, it’s real.”

With a smile, she said, “Attorney and motivational guru.” Molly wasn’t about to cry on his shoulders. “Jayce must pay a fortune for your services.” She sure hadn’t. “How did you get me alimony when it’s unheard of in the state of Florida?”

“I made sure that Wilson saw things my way,” Gage replied, checking an incoming text. “Wilson isn’t going to hurt any. He’s loaded. Besides, it’s far less money than you’re accustomed to having. You can scale back your spending and find another job. Just as a precaution, in case you change your mind about Miami, I’ll have Stacy check the openings at Jordan Marketing to see if anything suits.”

She sighed. “I’ve applied at the school board and at a couple of museums in Fort Myers.” Tugging at a loose thread on her gray skirt, she added reluctantly, “And I understand that I haven’t any room to be choosy.”

“I have connections; perhaps I can find you a curator’s position nearby.” He motioned for the check. “Meanwhile, Wilson’s monthly payments are set up on direct deposit and I will oversee them. If he tries anything shady, I’ll personally handle it.”

She couldn’t help but think how awkward things were for brothers-n-law. “Jayce and Bren were good friends with Wilson long before they married my sister.”

Gage shrugged. “You’re family. Jayce and Bren choose family above all. You have no idea how far their loyalties reach, although in time, you will. And if I were Wilson, I would avoid crossing paths with either of them anytime soon. They’re not happy with what he’s done to you.”

Molly remembered Jayce approaching her the morning she left Gage’s penthouse, asking her exactly what
she
needed to make her happy. She laughed and said that she wanted Wilson out of her life, but Wilson refused to cooperate, refused to grant her a divorce or an annulment since Attorney Dibosa wouldn’t leave her husband and kids for him. Jayce smiled and told her to consider it done. Knowing how shrewd of an attorney Wilson was, she didn’t believe Jayce for a minute. Hindsight, she was wrong to doubt her brother-n-law or Gage. “Jayce really does get everything he wants, doesn’t he?”

“Jayce works incredibly hard for everything he gets, and the only thing he ever really
wanted
was Tatum,” Gage qualified. “I’ll have your bag sent to your room, unless I can still make one more plea for you to return with me.”

“Gage, you act as though it’s a life or death situation if I don’t live under Jayce’s roof. I’ve been alone for the past three months,” she explained exasperatedly. “Just because my divorce is now finalized, doesn’t mean I’m going to fall apart.”

“No,” he said, handing the paid bill to the server before helping her to stand. “But life has a way of creeping up on you, and if you thought finding Wilson in a compromising position changed yours, Molly, you’d be surprised to find what’s waiting for you around the corner.”

Gage kissed her cheek and they parted ways. “I’m starting a tab,” she told their server when Gage was out of earshot. “I need a table in the bar, preferably by the dance floor. Thanks.”

She crunched a chip of ice between her newly applied veneers, hating the way her teeth gleamed under the bar’s strobes. Her parents had paid a small fortune for her braces, straightening her teeth, all for nothing. She sipped on her drink, gliding the crystal back and forth over her lips, remembering that painful chin implant she had added to improve a profile Molly hadn’t realized was lacking, until Wilson thoughtfully pointed it out. She’d been sick for weeks after
that
surgery, so he conveniently hired a nurse, since he’d forgotten about that San Francisco trip with his married law slash sex partner.

It seemed that the only natural thing left on her body was her strawberry blonde hair. Not good enough for Wilson, though, he had insisted that she stay waxed below the belt, even though she always surmised a neat trim suited her better. At least, hair would have been
something
natural, a small concession for a woman who felt completely
unnatural
in her own skin. Molly would be the first to admit that she looked like an exotic dancer slash Stepford wife. Imperfect perfection. If others took the time to get to know her, they’d spot her imperfections quickly enough. On the inside, she was a disaster, starting her life over again. But the disaster part was going to change very soon. Molly Shirley would never stay down and out.

“You’re a stripper, then?”

“Maybe.” Molly blinked a few times, her recent companion’s face blurring in and out of focus. She tossed back her next glassful, clenching her teeth on an olive and sliding the pick between her full lips.

He snorted. “I think you’re making up nonsense to scare me away. But I know that you want me more than you don’t.” A classic, masculine smile widened his mouth. “I can work with that. Shall we dance again, drink another round, or discuss what we
really
desire in private?”

“Another dance,” Molly agreed.

That mouth of his straightened into an annoyed line, but he stood, holding out an insistent palm. “Very well, dance and
discuss
, it is.”

“Dance o-only.” Was she slurring?

“Whatever you say,” he said a little too smugly for her tastes, but Molly followed him anyway. This one was another Ken doll. With golden hair, straight white teeth, and a well-placed dimple on his impeccably chiseled chin, he was ready to go from zero-to-sixty when she finally invited him between her thighs.

After pulling her a few feet into the swaying bodies, he moved against her to a slow beat, anchoring his palm on her lower back. His pinky grazed until it touched the cleft of her ass. Bringing her in nice and tight, he pressed an impressive erection against her stomach, circling it. Molly reminded herself that this was why she was here, breaking her moral code by losing herself with a stranger. For a few hours, for the entire night, she didn’t care, didn’t expect a hero either. Fairy tales were for suckers.

In her next breath, a cloudy haze dropped over her, and she instantly fought to clear her debilitating vision. Something was positively wrong. She noticed sounds were oddly muffled, yet the tingling of glass echoed sharply inside her head. Molly refocused on what’s-his-face in front of her, wrapping her palm on her forehead. “I don’t… feel right.”

“Liquid dinners don’t suit you,” he said. Reminding her why she should have eaten that chicken. Not to drink on an empty stomach was something she had learned in high school. “Sweetheart, I think you should come with me.” He kissed the side of her throat, and she could have sworn that something sharp pierced her. “The condo I own on South Beach would fit you perfectly, Molly.
I
would fit you perfectly.”

“South Beach?” She shook her head. “Nooo.” Dropping her hand from her forehead, she placed it against his chest, pushing. “I live in Fort Myers, remember?”

“You told me you signed your divorce papers today,” he insisted

“Sure, I s-suppose I did.” Boy, she was wasted.
Dumb move, Mol
. “Yeah, signed divorce papers…right.” Because Jayce Jordan made it happen. “I’ll be honest.” Her legs started to tremble. “We just met. And…I wanted
a night
, you know?” A night to pretend she was someone else, detachment in all its glory. “I-I cannot even remember your name.”

“Before the sun rises, my name will sear your throat.” Eyes flashing with a feral determination and an eerie strangeness, he purred, “I can keep you in a way you are accustomed.”

Her head dropped back when he leaned down, kissing a trail across her shoulder. Molly’s lips parted, a desperate moan nearly escaping. “We’ll start with one night, okay? R-right now, I want to leave with you. Tomorrow,” she explained, staring over his shoulder and thinking she saw someone familiar, “no promises.”

“If I have only one night with you, we’d better start it now.”

A sharper pain hit her neck, followed by a foreboding sensation. Then, salt air met her face. Sand was suddenly at her back, his body’s weight pressing against her core. “W-where are we?” Two seconds ago, they were dancing inside The Blue Pelican. “Something funny’s g-going on…I didn’t drink
that
much. T-tell,” she stammered as he licked the pain from her throat, with a tongue that felt so right. His hands moved restlessly over her skin, learning her. A thick knee wedged between her thighs, pushing up her skirt. Two fingers slipped inside her panties. His breathing turned raw, desperate, or was that hers? “I need this,” she whispered through a myriad of sensations. “I need you.”

“Name it,” he whispered. “Shall I tie you up and spank you?” His voice dropped a salacious octave. “Love you lazily throughout the night or split you wide with a swift, hard fucking?”

“A swift hard fookin’ on the sand, you say? I’d have to see that one for myself,” a thunderous, rolling burr sounded from right above them. “Though I’m thinkin’ the whole thing sounds a wee bit abrasive. But you Americans are a strange lot, aren’t you?”

“I’m not American,” he hissed back.

“You see, that statement was entirely rhetorical,” Heath admitted. “A habit I’ve picked up since startin’ this American adventure - askin’ for effect without expectin’ an answer.” If it weren’t for the fresh Druid ink Gage had just blessed Heath with, there would be one less vampire in the world. Still, he sent his compulsion Molly’s way, rendering her instantly unconscious, just in case the situation escalated. “You have three seconds.”
Or inherent territorialism will be the death of you.
“And don’t think to come back.” A step closer. “Near her.” Yet another step closer. “Again.”

While slowly removing his fingers from Molly’s panties, the vampire turned to Heath and smiled in the way vampires do, with cold malice and someone’s blood on their teeth. Unfortunately, tonight’s blood belonged to Molly.

Rune Arud moved in behind Molly and the filth atop her. His brother Terje, who looked nearly identical to their brother Arian, placed one steadying hand on Heath’s shoulder. Terje spoke evenly, though Heath heard the dangerous undercurrent of a Norwegian Were in his tone, “I warned you at the bar, leech.”

“I don’t recall any warning.” The vampire brought two glistening fingers to his mouth, licking them clean, and then smacked his lips when he finished. “But that’s fine,” he said unfazed. “Only two things I can drink, and I have just now enjoyed both. She was gorgeous and willing. I was thirsty and able. Though I would rather finish what we started, I will leave.” He stood up and reached out to gather Molly in his arms. Whether he was being chivalrous or simply rubbing it in, Heath wasn’t sure, but his werewolf emitted a low warning growl that the vampire could hear and
understand
. Quickly, Rune interceded and brought Molly’s wee body protectively against his. He tugged down her skirt and hid the scrap of lace that covered what belonged to Heath. With a mocking salute, the vampire misted away.

Terje raised a golden brown at Heath. “Problem solved?

Heath raised a dark one back. “Not hardly.” Both werewolves were thinking the same thing. Even though this particular patch of sand, Lighthouse Beach, was open to the public, and the leech had misted Molly quite a ways from The Blue Pelican, why would this vampire or any other dare to feed on Sanibel Island?

“Was he that stupid?” asked Terje. “Or sending a message?”

Heath’s hands curled at his sides. “On the first day that my mate is unattached to her human, a vampire bites her throat. I will take it as a message.”

“Bane is in Miami with Jayce and Bren.” Terje explained. “I’ll phone Arian and give him a heads up. As long as Dru is home from work, Arian will leave Renee and come for Molly. Don’t worry, Highlander, we’ll watch over her.”

Tribal law was tribal law, and the hierarchy of the werewolf stated that any unclaimed female was under the protection of her closest male relatives. Old fashioned? Yes, though it was very necessary in the darkly potent immortal world. Luckily, there were several prominent males protecting Molly, one of which was the Alpha of North America himself. When in the process of claiming their females, most prospective males would find this intimidating, but not Heath. He grew up in the fourteenth century, his father was then laird and Alpha of his clan, therefore, Heath only found comfort in power so long as it didn’t belong to vampires. And since vampires were circling his mate, he had a serious problem. “I don’t want to leave her yet.”

“Are you sure?”

Thinking of the sexual torment he was about to put himself through, Heath sighed. “Aye, I’m sure.”

“The leech coerced her,” Heath finished in a low voice, his erection now painful against his zipper. Seeing another male touching and tasting what was his caused quite a surge of savage jealousy. He wondered how he could tame something he had never once felt, something so harshly compelling and vindictively taunting and so… very, very dangerous.