High Stakes (Page 46)

High Stakes (Vegas Vampires #1)(46)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"I know that." Brittany nudged his shoulder with hers. "But obviously you don’t really want to. I want to help you find the cure What is it you need from me?"

She already suspected.Blood. A shiver went through her."Yes, it ez what you are thinking." He turned toward her, studied her. "I need your blood."

Brittany swallowed hard, and pulled up the neckline of her shorty pajamas, which only brought it to her collarbone. Her neck was still exposed, as was a lot of the rest of her. "Did you bring your little kit thing?"

A needle in the arm wouldn’t be so bad. No different than going to the Red Cross to donate blood.Which she never did, because she was afraid of needles and tended to pass out. "Yes, but I left it in the car."

"Where is your car?Because I can’t stay up all night I have to go to work tomorrow, you know. I’m a dentist," she said pointlessly.

"And you’re afraid of needles?"

"Well, not when I’m the one using them." She took several deep breaths and gave herself a mental pep talk. No big deal, this was for the good of vampirekind . Only a total selfish wimp would refuse to give blood because of a teeny-weeny needle prick.

"You are terrified." Corbin returned the pressure on her hand. You are shaking, and your skin has gotten clammy. Besides, I can sense your fear, it ez like a pulsing electrical charge. And your thughts are wild and scattered."

"I really wish you wouldn’t listen to my thoughts. It’s just not nice, Corbin." Brittany cleared her throat and hoped her heart wouldn’t leave her chest like a cartooncharacter’s . "And maybe you can just throw one of those glamours on me before you do anything with a needle."

"I can’t puta glamour on you. I have tried and it does not work."

"Why not?"This whole experience would be much less nerve-wracking if she were in some kind of pleasure coma. Sort of like her twenty-first birthday when she had consumed three cosmopolitans in rapid succession.

"No-alcohol."Corbin gave her a stern look. " Zatwould alter my test results. And I don’t know why I can’t puta glamour on you. I have tried many times."

"Why were you trying to do that?" she asked in shock. What exactly had he been planning to do to her? And she was sure blood removal would be easier if she were drunk. Not that she was a partyer —that had been her mother—but while she wanted to help the cause, she really couldn’t do the needle thing.

"Do not be alarmed. I just meant there are times when you’ve seen things, said things, called to me, and I would have liked to, uh, soothe you."

"Soothe me? That’s very sweet." Brittany took a deep breath, calmed herself down. "I want to soothe you, too, you know. I look at you and I can feel your anxiety, your desire to do what’s right.’ Stomach jumping just a little, she added, "You can draw my blood. I promise. But please do it quickly, okay? I don’t think I can sit still for you to fill up whole pint bags."

Decision made, she screwed her eyes shut and shoved her arm at him, turning her head away. If pain forced her eyes open, she didn’t want to see any needles, veins, blood flowing, or skin pulling.

"I have to get ze kit still."

She let out the breath she’d been holding in a gigantic whoosh. "Oh, shit, that’s right. Well, go get it, and hurry. If you give me too much time to think, I might just pass out. Of course, that might make the whole thing easier for you." Brittany glanced over at him. "Corbin?" The room was empty.

Barely a blink later,he was climbing back in her window, a black leather attache case in his hand.Eek. That looked scary.Serial killer-like.

"What ez this obsession with serial killers?" he asked, opening the case on the nightstand.

"I don’t know." Brittany peered around his back, trying to see in the bag. "I’m American. That probably explains the whole thing."

He turned to her, wearing latex gloves, needle with vial attached in his hand. She broke out into a sweat in various icky places. Without direction from her, her body leaped off the bed and took two big steps backward.

" Shhh," Corbin said."It ez not a big thing. I will be very quick and it won’t hurt but for a split second."

"That’s what my first boyfriend told me. And he wasso wrong." Brittany ‘s butt hit her wicker dresser. The picture frames on it shook, and she didn’t even care. She could not let Corbin near her with that thing.

The needle went down by his side. "I can distract you if you’d like. Zat is what I normally do."

"What do you mean?" Even as the words left her mouth, Brit- tanyremembered his lips on that woman’s mouth, her throaty moans of pleasure. "Oh! Like that?"

He nodded, eliminating the space between them with sure, steady, sensual steps. The look on his face had turned from compassionate to intense, determined.The hunter assessing his prey.

And how completely embarrassing that she felt sexual interest rouse itself in her body.Her hand fluttered over her br**sts, a ridiculous gesture of protection.

"Yes. Like that. But only if you want me to." He leaned over her, arm brushing her bare shoulder, took in her scent with flared nostrils, and whispered in her ear. "Do you want me to?"

Brittany shivered. No, of course she didn’t. That was crazy.

Impulsive.

Fun and sensual, and much more pleasant than a needle.And Corbin was French. Surely he knew how to distract a woman. "Yes, I want you to."

A faint smile crossed his face."Ah, zat ez a wonderful answer, Brittany , because I desire you."

Without using his hands to touch her, he kissed her, with more urgency, more fire, than she was expecting. An ache started low in her belly when his tongue demanded entrance to her mouth. Gripping the dresser behind her, she hung on under his assault, fear disappearing, hot,wet , need building with NASCA

speed.

A moan ripped through the room and she realized it came from her when Corbin lifted his mouth from hers. She didn’t want the kiss to end, ever, and certainly not after a few seconds. But he only left long enough to maneuver himself between her legs, forcing her thighs wider apart.

The move, the intimacy so much more suggestive than a’s kiss, had her panting in anticipation. "Corbin "

"Yes,ma cherie ?" He kissed along her neck, over the swell of her br**sts, back up, and took her mouth with ferocity.

Brittany had been kissed many times, by many men.More than she cared to consider, and way more than she would ever admit to her much more sexually conservative sister. But Corbin’s kisses were potent, like the first bite of double chocolate ice cream, the last dregs of coffee at the bottom of the cup, or a shot of vodka straight down in one gulp.