CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

T wo nights later, Craig leaned his elbow on the bar and threw his beer back. The bottle clunked as he placed it back down, deciding if he should have another one.

In front of him, three women swayed their hips and tossed their hair to the deep bass music. He watched them with modest interest. In contrast, they were very aware of him. It was the usual reaction vampires of his rank got thanks to the energy they put out; sexual with a high degree of danger. Females loved it. And human females? Forget it. It was like moths to a flame.

He smirked and waved his hand at the bartender.

“You want another?” Craig asked the vampire next to him.

“One more,” Lance said, emptying his beer.

Both were dressed in black jeans and boots. He had a vintage AC/DC T-shirt on which stretched across his chest, while Lancelot—who hated his nickname—wore a plain black shirt rolled up to his elbows. They weren’t exactly gunning for the fashion pages this weekend, but neither of them gave a shit.

They clinked the Steinlager bottles at the neck and chugged down another long, refreshing mouthful.

Craig noticed the redhead glance his way for the second time, and he stifled a moan. She was hot in that corporate girl way, though it could go either way in the bedroom. Some turned into tigers, others were so fucking boring he found television more interesting.

And he fucking hated television.

“You going there?”

“Not sure,” he answered honestly. She was sexy enough in her button-down shirt, an extra button undone, and her tight black skirt riding up as she danced. Her long red locks waved around her back as her more-than-a-handful boobs bobbed.

The song finished. Panting, the girls headed to the bar.

Lance took a step away to make room for them, giving them a no problem when they thanked him. A few fluttering eyelashes, and they began to order their drinks. Lance glanced at him and grinned.

As the blonde with the short, bouncy hair turned, Lance stepped into her space and whispered something. She arched her neck to make eye contact with the guy, and her eyes glazed. Nothing made a woman all hot in the pants more than a tall, muscular man stepping into her personal space and towering over her.

That easy. Craig smirked as Lance looked over and winked at him.

The redhead swayed to the music and took a sip of her drink. She didn’t look at him.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. He drank his beer.

“Are you going to talk to me?!” she suddenly demanded.

Now we’re talking—the girl had fire.

He grinned into his beer, then dropped his voice and said, “Well, I could, but it would only end up with me on top of you, so you decide.”

The little gasp in her throat and the long swallow that followed were simply perfect.

“You think so?”

He slowly stood up straight, punched one hand into his jean pocket, and raised his beer to his lips. “Baby girl, I know so.”

She shook her head and he could almost see the hairs on her body begin to vibrate in irritation. Defiantly, she took another sip of her drink. Rum. He could scent the black liquor blending with her musky perfume. It was a tantalizing, rich mix.

“Forget it.”

“Nuh-uh. Come on, why don’t you females ever admit what you want and then take it?”

He was in no mood for the I’m-not-that-kind-of-girl speech. If she were wise, she would walk away. As her mouth dropped open then abruptly shut, Craig couldn’t take his eyes off her red wet lips.

What the hell?

She pulled all her hair over one shoulder with a huff, so it now flowed down over one breast, exposing her neck.

Bad, bad move, sweetheart.

His cock suddenly wanted in.

“Have you never heard of innocent flirting? Jeez. Men!”

He stepped into her space. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. You want me.”

She did. Her pulse was rapid, blood had rushed to her face, and he could scent the smell of her desire. Underneath, there was also a tiny hint of fear, which only added to his growing and unexpected arousal.

The female was smart to be afraid of him. He was a dangerous male. Size, height, and tribal tats aside, he was a predator, the worst and best kind, depending on who you were. He had a darkness in him that he kept contained.

Most of the time.

She glanced around at her friends, who were busy giggling and touching Lance every chance they got.

Shit, the guy might end up with them both tonight. Usually Craig played the game, but with everything going on back at the pad, he was feeling testy.

And cue the soft cock. Just thinking of what he’d discovered over the past few days since the prince had tasked him with spying on Regan took away the buzz.

He needed to speak to Brayden as soon as possible, but interrupting the guy when he was with his female was about as wise as shoving your head inside a fucking blender. So he’d wait.

For now.

He felt his patience snap.

“Come with me.” He placed his hand in the small of the female’s back and, ignoring her gasp, led her through the dance floor.

“Where are we going?” she asked, walking double time to keep up with his strides.

He didn’t answer. There was no need. She knew. He knew.

In the back of the club, he pressed his bulky shoulder into the door of the disabled toilet.

“Are you kidding me right now?” she cried as he pulled the door shut. “I told you I was only innocently flirting, for God’s sake. What is wrong with you?”

He leaned in, a hand on her hip, and tugged her into his hard cock.

“Last chance, gorgeous. You can either walk away or turn around while I fuck you.”

Her breasts moved as she panted, furious; however, she stayed put. Her eyes darted around the white tiled room.

“You don’t even know my name.”

“Tell me,” he said, impressed by her courage. He was an intimidating creature, and here she was, demanding respect.

“Brianna.”

The corner of his mouth turned up as she wobbled on her feet and gasped as her palm landed on his rock-hard abs.

“Well, Brianna, are you going to turn around?”

She shook her head, and he raised an eyebrow.

“I want to know your name.” Her demanding eyes bore into him. “And I want to face this way.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh, human, so many demands. Do you really think you’re in control here?”

She pushed against his chest, which did absolutely nothing.

“Yes, I do. I can say no at any point, and you will respect that. Tell me your name.”

He didn’t know if she was completely mad or ridiculously brave, but goddamn it, his cock hardened further. He held her hips harder to stop himself from swirling her around and ripping up her skirt. She was right; he wouldn’t take from her without her permission.

“You haven’t said no.”

“You haven’t asked.”

Shit. She had a point.

Craig stared down at the brightest green eyes he’d ever seen challenging the very core of him. One minute, they were breathing hard, both needy and fighting their desire. The next, he found his lips on hers. Harsh, angry, and totally owning hers. She moaned. He eased up, and she opened up to him, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. She tasted like rum and a whole bunch of goodness. Everything he wasn’t.

Without realizing, he had pulled her legs up over his hips, and she was gripping his shoulders. He ran his hand down her back and over her tight, soft ass, the heat of her sinking into his skin.

Her bright red locks brushed his cheek as she moaned. He opened his eyes and saw three tiny freckles to the side of her eye. What the fuck?

He abruptly let her go, sliding her down his body. Panting, they stared at each other. Brianna’s eyes were dilated as fuck, glossy with desire and waiting for him to make the next move.

He looked around the bathroom and back at those freckles. Fucking freckles. What did they matter?

“Fuck.” This was fucking wrong. He looked down into eyes that pleaded with him for more at the same time they challenged him. “Let’s go.”

He began to pull her out of the room, but she tugged on his hand. There was no way she’d be able to move him an inch, but the very fact she had tried brought him to a halt.

“Why did you stop?” The hurt on her face had him narrowing his eyes. “What did I do wrong?”

“Not a thing.” He brushed her hair over her ears. “Keep away from assholes like me, you hear.”

She stared at him confused, eyes full of moisture. He leaned down and kissed her gently, wondering when he had ever kissed a female in such a way.

“Let’s go. I’m taking you back to your friends.” Her muted nod and sad eyes nudged a spot inside him he didn’t know existed. As they broke through the dance floor, he saw Lance with the two other women and...

Holy fuck, what was Brayden doing here?

“Bri!”

And Brayden’s human.

“Hey. How do...?” Willow looked between the two of them, then back at the prince. “What’s going on here?”

One glance at Brayden’s face, and he knew this wasn’t good.