I tangle my fingers in the sheets, grip hard to hang on as he picks up his pace, dipping deeper each time.
“Trey-fates-Trey,” I moan.
He curses and picks up speed, smacking my ass with his loans, screwing me harder and harder.
Despite holding onto the sheets, he propels me to the top of the bed, where I brace my arms against the headboard.
“Oh that’s, hot, baby.” Trey pulls out and lifts my hips, so I’m up on my knees with my chest pressed against the bed. He enters me in this position, and I’m instantly moaning, totally ready to come.
Apparently, it’s good for him, too, because his fingers dig into my hips, breaths turn into snarls.
“Sheridan-fuck!” He reaches around the front of me and slaps my clit.
I come on a scream. He roars and flattens me to the bed, coming and coming with wild, pulsing thrusts. He kisses my neck, rocks against my ass slowly, tenderly. “How could I have let you go?” he murmurs.
My heart squeezes. I haven’t fully forgiven him for it, even though I understand.
He gets up to dispose of the condom and I roll over. My stomach growls, loudly and I clap a hand over it and giggle.
“Gotta feed my baby.” He plants a soft one on my lips.
“I love a man who cooks.” He strides off, the play of his muscles in his back mesmerizing.
It hits me. I don’t have to hide from Trey. He likes me for me.
I climb out of bed and throw on a pair of panties.
So he likes my wild outfits? Might as well bless him with another one.
I stand in the closet, designing a new outfit I’m going to call “Sheridan up front, slutty in the back”, when a weird beeping noise pulls me away from trying to figure out what cardigan to wear over cut off shorts and a crop top. I hunt under the blankets and find the ringing mobile-Trey’s-just as he swaggers back in.
“Food’s ready.”
“Great.” I hand him the phone. It cuts out ringing just to start ringing again. “Someone’s popular. This early, you’d think they’d leave a voicemail.”
He frowns at the screen. “It’s Grizz. Hang on.” Bars of light from the blinds rest on his face as he takes the call. I curl around a pillow, trying not to eavesdrop.
“Yeah.” His shoulders stiffen, every line in his body alert and haunted. He turns away, as if protecting me from whoever’s on the line. “No. Got it.”
“What’s wrong?” I reach out my hand and he flinches away. Close enough to touch, but so far away.
“I gotta go,” Trey says. “There’s a dead body at Fight Club.”
All the oxygen sucks from the room. “Shifter?”
“No.” Trey’s blue eyes are bleak. “Human.”
WHEN WE PULL up to the club, Grizz is standing guard, his scarred face still as stone. He’s a life-sized gargoyle until we approach and he moves to intercept us. “Boss.”
“Where’s the body?” Trey asks grimly.
Grizz brings us to the back door. The body is a limp pile half-leaning against the door, soft red hair spilling over the face. I bite my fist to stifle a cry. The redhead at the club-could it be her? Did she scene with a vampire and disappear, a victim to Nero’s bloodlust? Did he whip her flesh in a frenzy and drag her to an alcove to drain her dry because he was angry with me?
Did I cause this?
Then Trey stoops down, brushing the hair aside. It’s not a woman, but a young man with matching red hair. That doesn’t help any. It could’ve been her.
I close my eyes, breathing deep to steady myself. My nose fills with the scent of the dead. Underneath the corpse smell is a subtle cologne that doesn’t quite cover the cold scent of a vampire.
“Fang marks on the neck,” Trey confirms. Trey looks ten years older as he handles the body, his large, calloused hands infinitely gentle. “Already stiff. Rigor mortis setting in.”
“Must’ve waited ’til dawn to dump him,” Grizz says. “I kicked everyone out around two thirty. Left an hour later, figuring I’d finish clean up this morning. If they were monitoring this place, they know I rise early and get back here before eight, even after fight nights. They had a two, maybe three hour window.”
“Do you have cameras?” I ask, fear and bile still clogging my throat.
“No.” Both shake their heads.
“We don’t need ’em,” Grizz mutters. “We know who did this.” Vampires.
“We need to know which one,” I protest. “Frangelico seemed to think his nest knew how to eat without killing. He might not have sanctioned this.”
Grizz shakes his head. “Only good vampire is a dead one,” he growls, before giving me his back.
I jolt as a motorcycle roars up into the club lot, spraying gravel. Jared dismounts and strides to us. The closer he gets, the more his expression grows more shadowed. He crouches in front of the body, raising his nose to the air. One sniff is all he needs.
“Fuck,” he explodes up, pacing away while raking a hand through his hair.
Trey’s big hands pull me close. I lean into him and shiver, even though it’s not cold. “You all right?” he murmurs.
“I’ll be fine,” I answer, as Jared paces back.
“This is fucking bullshit,” he barks. “Fucking vamps, playing games. I knew we shouldn’t have trusted them.”
“We don’t know if it was Frangelico,” I caution.
“Of course it is,” Jared explodes. “He reeled us in to agree to a treaty, and pulls this shit to prove how all powerful he is.”
I want to argue that it could be a rogue vampire acting against Frangelico, but bite my lip. Now isn’t the time.
A growl rumbles in Trey’s chest and I splay a hand over his heart, facing Jared. “Doesn’t matter who did it. We need to act. Cops will ask questions if they find the body.”
“We gotta move it,” Jared says.
“I can do it,” Grizz says. “I have my truck.”
“I’ll help,” Trey squeezes me before breaking away.