CHAPTER THIRTEEN

B rooklyn stretched as the sun poured into her bedroom. She'd asked to have manual control over her shutters so she could soak up the much-needed vitamin D that humans required for wellbeing and sleep.

The prince agreed and had put a sign on her door so any vampires entering were forewarned.

Talk about having a Human Inside spotlight.

After breakfast in her room, Brooklyn had curled up on her bed and texted Belinda.

Are you free for a FaceTime, B?

I might be coming home to Seattle next week. Mom and Dad are threatening to move to Manhattan.

Hey babe. I'm crashing after my shift. Can I call you tomorrow? BTW your parents are insane.

Yes, they were. But it was a creation of her own doing. They were clingy because Brad was dead.

She'd killed Brad.

While Brooklyn had grieved her twin brother and dealt with her guilt, it had taken her years to fully understand how her parents must have felt about losing one of their children.

It didn't mean she just put up with their stifling behavior, but she understood it.

Chat tomorrow. xx

Belinda didn't reply, which meant she must have been exhausted. She worked in the emergency department, which was crazy busy most of the time.

Brooklyn had been looking forward to chatting with her friend and feeling connected to her world again. She was missing home.

She wanted to talk to someone about Logan. Although she would never have been able to tell her friend everything, at least she could confess to being attracted to another bad boy and just...have girl talk.

So she'd swiped for an hour on all the social media sites, then fell asleep.

Now she had to get ready to start work.

Except her thighs were clenching because she'd been dreaming of a tall, dark-haired, way too handsome vampire.

Writhing on the bed, Brooklyn tried to ignore it, but the erotic dream had been so damn hot.

Run, little mouse.

It wasn't just her dream. Those steel eyes of his held within them an unhinged desire as they'd slid down her body before she'd taken off yesterday. As the door had slammed behind her, Brooklyn had pressed her back against it, her heart pounding as she waited for Logan to come for her.

He hadn't.

She'd been both relieved and disappointed.

She felt her nipples harden as her imagination went wild, imagining he'd knocked, startling her.

Would she have answered?

Would he have barged in and slammed his mouth down on hers, ripping open her blouse with his vampire strength?

God.

That was so damn hot.

She could just see him lifting her onto the small kitchen counter and tearing down her jeans. Then...

God, I shouldn't be thinking like this.

Then Logan would press his thick fingers inside her, sneering at her with glee as she panted and pleaded for her release.

Shit.

Brooklyn undid her jeans and tugged them down. It was better to do this now in private and get it out of her system than show him how aroused he made her.

She knew he'd sensed it.

Her panties followed, and she tossed them onto the ground. Then pressed her fingers to her clit.

Oh, god.

She was swollen and sensitive as she circled the hardened flesh and closed her eyes, letting imaginary Logan back in.

"Come little mouse," she heard him say as he finger fucked her and leaned down, sucking on her clit.

In her imagination, he was shirtless. His entire bulky muscular torso glossed with sweat, as eager and wanting of her as she was of him.

She let out a little moan.

"Beg me for another finger. Or my cock. I want to hear you beg," Imaginary Logan growled.

"Please," she whispered into the room. She would absolutely die if she thought he could hear her doing this.

"Good girl. This wet pussy is ready for a big vampire cock."

Brooklyn blinked her eyes open.

No, he wouldn't say that. Actually, maybe he would. He was narcissistic.

Get this over with and then forget about him.

Her eyes closed again, and she sped up the action, while pretend-Logan stayed on his knees. She decided she didn't want his big dick after all. Cunnilingus was intimate enough with the dangerous predator.

His tongue lapped at her folds, sucking and talking dirty as he found her g-spot.

Oh god.

"Come for me, human. Come and then I will dig my fangs into your neck and bleed you out."

Fuckkkk.

Pleasure roared through her body as she lifted her hips off the bed against her hand. Shuddering, she let it peak and then flopped back down.

"What the hell was that?" she groaned.

I need therapy.

Good lord, at least no one in the world would ever know about that little moment of insanity. She headed for the shower and then dressed for another night in the lab.

When Brooklyn stepped out of her room, she let out a little cry.

Logan was standing opposite her room, leaning on the wall, looking like some kind of Instagram fitness model in his black Moretti uniform. His arms crossed.

Please god tell me he can't hear my thoughts or hear through the walls.

"What are you doing here?" Brooklyn asked warily.

"Escorting you to work," Logan said, pushing away from the wall as she locked her door.

She turned and stared at him.

There were other vampires milling around, but not many. It was late afternoon, and most were still asleep. But the castle was never completely quiet.

Why on earth was he here?

She didn't bother asking. He wouldn't give her a straight answer, anyway.

Perhaps he just liked scaring her.

Perhaps all his flies had run out of wings.

Brooklyn was having trouble looking him in the eye because of what she'd just done. For all she knew, he had heard her.

If she could melt into the floor and disappear right now, she would.

"Don't you ever sleep?" Brooklyn began to walk down the corridor.

"No, I'm immortal and prowl the halls, looking for weak little humans to munch on," Logan answered with a touch of humor in his voice.

It wasn't funny, though.

As much as she was attracted to him, she was also scared of him. It created a terrifying and thrilling spark between them that was almost, but not quite, addictive.

In truth, she loved the way his presence made her feel alive, aroused, and wanting. While also being aggravated by it and how he seemed to relish her discomfort.

"Stop being an asshole," she replied, surprised by her own words.

Great, now he was going to snap her neck.

"Why? You love it," Logan said, a step behind her.

"Stop. I do not. Why are you following me? You are not escorting me." Brooklyn whipped her head around and sneered at him.

"Fine. I'm looking at your ass. It looks better in your jeans," he said as she shot him an angry look.

But...he likes my ass?

"I thought you hated humans. Or me," Brooklyn said, and noticed the lights in the corridor were orange.

Wait...what did that mean again? Ugh, she couldn't think when the tall, dark, and stupidly handsome huge vampire was nearby.

"I don't hate you—"

She sighed and stopped walking. "Look Logan, I get it. My race can be cruel and does bad things. Not all of us are like that. But bullying me and stalking me like this are unfair."

His nostrils flared.

Run, little mouse.

Logan liked her fear. It was feeding his hate and by the look in his eyes, it was turning him on. A lot.

She needed to stay away from him. To be fair, she was trying, but he kept appearing.

"Forget it." Brooklyn turned to walk away, but he grabbed her arm.

She gasped.

"Relax little mouse, I'm not going to hurt you... today," Logan purred. "I'll walk you to the lab."

"Why?" she whispered, hoping her voice wasn't shaking.

His eyes held hers, the swirl within them almost hypnotizing her. It was as if he was deciding how to answer. A moment later, he released her arm.

"The orange lights. We're on alert after a breach on the perimeter. I was asked to see you safely to the lab."

Oh.

Her eyes widened, and she wondered if that was true.

"Don't worry. The only person around here who wants to hurt me is you."

He snorted.

Half a dozen soldiers jogged down the hall and Logan tucked her up against his chest and moved her aside so she didn't get bowled down.

Damn, he felt so good.

Too good.

Was he made of cocaine?

His muscular arm wrapped around her waist as Brooklyn pressed her eyes closed and drew in a deep breath.

She heard Logan do the same against her hair.

"What scent is that?"

Huh?

"Ah, nothing. I don't have any perfume on."

"Shampoo then. Whatever," Logan replied, and she heard him scent her again.

She hadn't washed her hair today so it couldn't be that, but then again vampires had acute senses. Right now, she was more concerned about the fact he was still holding onto her while people were walking past them, staring.

Plus, her panties were not in the same condition as just a few minutes ago. She could feel his abs pressing into her body and Jesus fucking Christ, they were hard and glorious.

What would it be like to have sex with a powerful being like him?

Not him, obviously.

But the fact was, she was attracted to him enormously. The temptation to turn around and hope he kissed her was all-consuming.

She almost did.

Even knowing he'd laugh at her and the shame would haunt her for the rest of her life.

So instead she asked, "Can you please release me?"

"I'm not...shit." Logan removed his arm, and she took a step away and quickly continued toward the lab. He followed and growled. "You're too vulnerable to be here."

She turned and glared at him as she kept walking. "I've been here for weeks and until I met you, no one has given me any trouble. Or threatened to harm me."

Until him.

Nor had she felt any attraction to any of the gorgeous warriors in the castle. In fact, never before—human or vampire—had she had such a visceral reaction to a man.

A male.

Why him?

Was she programmed to be attracted to bullies?

Note to self: ring a therapist.

How did you go about that conversation? So I'm attracted to a vampire. He...well, he wants to kill me. Let me start at the top. He wants me to run so he can chase me and then kill me.

And possibly fuck me.

Not in that order.

An assumption.

Probably.

That's a surefire way to get yourself a nice new white top. One that fits firmly around you in the form of a straitjacket.

Brooklyn shook her head. She was really losing it.

"No one has harmed you because you're under Ari Moretti's protection," Logan said, moving a weapon from the back of his waistband to the front.

His eyes sparkled as he caught her watching.

"Never seen a weapon before, huh?"

Brooklyn rolled her eyes. "There are hundreds of Moretti warriors under this roof. They all carry them, Rambo. You aren't special."

If she wasn't mistaken, his lips just quirked.

They rounded the corner and reached the lab. Logan rested his hand on the doorjamb above her while Brooklyn punched her code into the door, then he pushed the door open.

She turned. "Um, thanks."

Logan nodded and peered inside. "You here alone?"

Brooklyn nodded. "Yes."

He frowned. "For how long?"

"Until they wake up. The others start in four or five hours. They're asleep. Like you should be," she said. "So have a great—"

"I'll wait for them," he said as her eyes widened.

What?

Then he leaned his huge, muscular body against the frame outside the lab and turned his back on her.

"There? You are waiting there?" she gasped.

He swiveled his head around. "Yes."

Brooklyn fish mouthed it for a moment, just staring at him. Trying to ignore the tattoos along his neck and down his arms where his fitted T-shirt ended.

Lord. Physically, he was a complete bad boy dream. But he couldn't stay there with her. She wouldn't get any work done.

"Lo—" She was about to say something—god knows what, her brain was malfunctioning—when he interrupted.

"Trust me, little mouse, I will stay right here. If I step inside the lab, I'll either kill you or fuck you." Then he kicked the door and it closed.

Now there was only a block of wood between him and that damn comment.

And her gaping mouth.

I'LL EITHER KILL YOU or fuck you.

How could he just say something like that? Furthermore, how was Brooklyn supposed to focus on her work with those words spinning around in her mind?

Answer: she couldn't.

Especially after making herself come this morning to images of the hot and dangerous vampire.

The fact she was more focused on his threat to fuck her and not to kill her spoke volumes.

I wonder if there are vampire therapists?

God what was wrong with her?

After throwing away the fifth petri dish with the wrong blood sample, Brooklyn let out a long groan—which he no doubt heard—and strode across the room to the door.

She couldn't work under these circumstances.