Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Accidentally Yours #4)(34)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“You. You told Fate you wanted me here.”

“Maybe I just didn’t want her.”

Ouch. “I’m sure I deserved that after I killed your cat. And I did enjoy watching you suffer—just a little. And I’m sorry. I’m also very sorry for having you turned into a vampire. At least part of me is because it’s not what you wanted. The other part of me couldn’t be happier that you’re still alive.”

He questioned her with his eyes.

“Because of the saving humanity stuff,” she added quickly. “Obviously, I could never be into you—a vampire.” She poked him in the arm. “Much.” Gods, that felt good!

He studied her with his cold eyes. “You’re like an infuriating child, you know that?”

True. So true. A slightly infuriating child with panache for death. “I’ve actually been told I’m a basket of fun. My sister Cimil says they should supersize me.”

Gods, why had she said that? This wasn’t the time for stupid jokes.

His full lips made a hard line. He turned back toward his table, sat on his stool, and began typing into his laptop. “My pinche luck.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Patience, Ixtab. He’s been through a lot.

“May I ask you a question?” she said calmly. “You clearly aren’t happy about being a vampire, so why continue working on the tablet? Why not let the world end? That could solve all your problems.”

“Like you, I answer to another power.”

“Oh, do you answer to chocolate-covered donuts, too? Sometimes they call out, ‘Eat meeee.’ Then it’s all over; I must obey.”

Gods dammit! I did it again. What the hell is wrong with me?

He slowly shook his head. “Are all deities so insane?” he grumbled.

Yes. But… “Call me after you’ve lived seventy thousand years without anyone to share it with,” she snapped. She had her brethren, but they were all as miserable as she was, for the most part. “Sorry—I didn’t come here to pick another fight. I came to apologize for my lack of compassion toward you. And now I’m offering my help, if you want it.”

He lowered his head and let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. It feels like my life…” His voice trailed off into deep contemplation.

Don’t you do it. Don’t you dare crack a stupid joke! “What? Feels like what?” Good job.

“Would you stop talking? I’m trying to…” He looked down at his laptop.

Stop? Did she come equipped with that setting?

She looked at the man slouched over his notebook in front of her. Oh, gods… you’ve only made things worse! The heaviness in his shoulders tugged at her heartstrings. If only she could do something to ease his pain, but she was so bad at this. She didn’t know how to connect with him—or anyone, really.

Ixtab moved behind him and pressed her body and cheek against his bare back. “I am sorry,” she said quietly, placing her hands around his waist over the apron.

Antonio sucked in a sharp breath and jerked his spine straight. “Why do you keep touching me?” he said in a low, deep voice.

She sighed. “I don’t know.” Then she inhaled his scent, fully expecting him to pull away, but he didn’t.

Several moments ticked by, and she noticed that his heaviness began to lift, replaced with a heat that sieved through his skin and into her body. She felt their lights spark and tingle as they began to mingle. Her own heart began to thump in time with his.

Gods, what was happening to her? She instantly knew she would never get enough of this, of him. She was addicted.

She removed her hands from his tight waist, and then ran them up the bare skin of his sides, savoring the slope of his broad back.

She felt Antonio’s chest expanding and contracting at an accelerated pace, but he remained still as her hands moved under his apron, exploring the velvety, hard ripples of his abdomen. Gods, he felt so delicious, so perfectly firm and smooth, so masculine. She leaned into him a little harder, enjoying the feel of her br**sts and stomach against the heat of his back. Gods, she’d never wanted a male like she wanted him. The way he reacted to her touch, almost like he needed it as much as she did.

Her hands moved slowly up his washboard abs and glided to his muscular, firm pectorals. They were so sensually male, so hard, though not as hard as the two tiny ni**les she found. She explored them with the ends of her fingers, wanting nothing more than to feel them on the tip of her tongue. Would he let her touch him like that? Kiss his perfect chest, lick his insanely muscled stomach? She would have to remove her fortress of black fabric to do so.

Could she let him see her face, her body? Expose herself to him?

Yes, yes, she could. She’d let him see everything. She’d do just about anything to feel his entire na**d body flush with hers, because if touching him with her hands felt this good, she could only imagine the pleasure of having him on top of her, writhing between her thighs, inside her.

“Antonio.” She folded her veil and placed a light kiss on his shoulder blade. “I want to show you something,” she whispered. She kissed him again, savoring the tiny shivers she coaxed from his body each time her lips touched his smooth, bronzed skin. Gods, she would enjoy this. She slowly began moving her hands down, down his chest, down his stomach—

He released a low groan, and he shifted on his chair, widening his legs.

“Gods, Antonio. What you do to me,” she whispered and then slid her hand to his groin. Her fingertips grazed the moist tip of his erection protruding from his waistband.

Antonio groaned again and then suddenly spun around, knocking Ixtab square in the jaw with his elbow.

She heard a loud crack and felt the floor leap up and smack her on the back of the head. Ouch. That hurt.

* * *

Antonio stared down at Ixtab, who appeared to be unconscious. Santa mierda!

“Ixtab! Ixtab!” She was out cold.

Dammit! He’d have to be more careful with his new strength. He’d already torn two shirts, cracked the sink in half brushing his teeth, busted two doorknobs, and ripped open three pairs of button fly jeans—each time when he’d thought of Ixtab. Not like he had a f**k of a clue as to why he had that reaction toward her. The damned goddess pissed him off and mocked everything he held sacred. She was crass and lacked the fragile femininity he adored in his usual fare of one-night stands. But Christ almighty, if he didn’t find Ixtab’s smell the most addictive scent known to man—err—vampire. And her touch…? Dios, he’d never felt anything so f**king arousing in his entire life.