onto the dance floor. Like a starved puppy, he followed. Away from his posse, away from the pouting blonde and into Marcus’s territory. Incrementally, Marcus moved closer.
Marcus scoffed at the man’s macho attempt to look suave on the dance floor. His stubby body bucked and shimmied while he tried to look tough. Did women really dig that shit? To Marcus, Tuturo looked like the fool he was.
But damn, he could not blame Jaime for putting on the struts for the redhead. She was prime. He sucked in a harsh breath when she dug her hands up into her hair, threw her head back and closed her eyes. Her long, smooth neck beckoned. He had the inscrutable urge to grab her to his chest and sink his teeth into her creamy skin. To feel her surrender that luscious body of hers to him, right here, right now.
Since his change from mortal to immortal, his primal male had on several occasions wrestled for control of his rigid discipline. Much as it did now. By nature he was a hunter; he lived for the chase. As a vampire, he could quickly eliminate his mark. As a man, he would relentlessly persue the woman who taunted him from the dance floor.
When she opened her eyes halfway and came to a slow, agonizing stop, then reversed the direction of her swaying hips, Marcus swore aloud. He sucked in another harsh breath when she turned and faced Tuturo. Suspicion sliced through the cloud of lust that held him hostage. What would a woman like that want with a piece of crap like Jaime Tuturo? Marcus stepped closer, sensing he was watching an act, a very good act, an act that, if played out, might blow his window of opportunity. When she shimmied again, this time dipping low, Tuturo sidled up behind her as she slowly stood. When she didn’t move away, Marcus knew something was up. He stepped onto the dance floor. She continued to sway her hips, pressing her ass, oh, so subtly up against Jaime’s crotch. As she did, she looked straight up at Marcus. A slow, seductive smile curved her full lips. She winked at him, then turned away.
What the hell was she up to?
And who the hell was getting played? Marcus’s lust ebbed.
Refocused on why he was there, Marcus had eyes only for Tuturo now. He moved in. Two steps away, the woman abruptly grabbed Jaime’s hand and pulled him down the hall to what Marcus knew were the bathrooms. Jaime’s posse closed in behind them, effectively making it impossible for Marcus to get close. The door to theladies’ room opened. The lady in red disappeared inside with a panting Jaime hot on her heels. Ten seconds later, the door opened again as two indignant women came rushing out.
Marcus halted in the long hallway. He had no recourse but to wait; there was no other way in or out of the restroom save for the one door. Leaning casually against the wall, he pulled his throwaway cell phone from his pocket and pretended to be texting. He was far enough away from the bathroom doors that Jaime’s boys ignored him. As he let one minute, then two, pass, his mind worked fast, flipping through the possibility that the woman had spotted him and was acting as Jamie’s shield. Did little brother suspect big brother had had enough? That would explain the way she’d played with him. And no way in hell was he going to let her get away with it.
When three stacked bottle blondes came stumbling down the hall looking to use the restroom, just as many of Jaime’s men told them they would have to wait. The women postured, pouted and used their wiles on the men. When one of the blondes pulled down her spandex sequined top and two impressive tits popped out, Marcus said a silent thank-you. A minute later only one of the thugs remained guarding the door. Marcus knew this would be his only chance. He also knew he’d have to take care of the lady in red. A fleeting stab of remorse needled his gut. He rushed toward the lone
Vela,
shouting,
“Reza! Reza!”
The guy started, looked up from his phone, then took off past him toward the club. When
Marcus scoffed at the man’s macho attempt to look suave on the dance floor. His stubby body bucked and shimmied while he tried to look tough. Did women really dig that shit? To Marcus, Tuturo looked like the fool he was.
But damn, he could not blame Jaime for putting on the struts for the redhead. She was prime. He sucked in a harsh breath when she dug her hands up into her hair, threw her head back and closed her eyes. Her long, smooth neck beckoned. He had the inscrutable urge to grab her to his chest and sink his teeth into her creamy skin. To feel her surrender that luscious body of hers to him, right here, right now.
Since his change from mortal to immortal, his primal male had on several occasions wrestled for control of his rigid discipline. Much as it did now. By nature he was a hunter; he lived for the chase. As a vampire, he could quickly eliminate his mark. As a man, he would relentlessly persue the woman who taunted him from the dance floor.
When she opened her eyes halfway and came to a slow, agonizing stop, then reversed the direction of her swaying hips, Marcus swore aloud. He sucked in another harsh breath when she turned and faced Tuturo. Suspicion sliced through the cloud of lust that held him hostage. What would a woman like that want with a piece of crap like Jaime Tuturo? Marcus stepped closer, sensing he was watching an act, a very good act, an act that, if played out, might blow his window of opportunity. When she shimmied again, this time dipping low, Tuturo sidled up behind her as she slowly stood. When she didn’t move away, Marcus knew something was up. He stepped onto the dance floor. She continued to sway her hips, pressing her ass, oh, so subtly up against Jaime’s crotch. As she did, she looked straight up at Marcus. A slow, seductive smile curved her full lips. She winked at him, then turned away.
What the hell was she up to?
And who the hell was getting played? Marcus’s lust ebbed.
Refocused on why he was there, Marcus had eyes only for Tuturo now. He moved in. Two steps away, the woman abruptly grabbed Jaime’s hand and pulled him down the hall to what Marcus knew were the bathrooms. Jaime’s posse closed in behind them, effectively making it impossible for Marcus to get close. The door to theladies’ room opened. The lady in red disappeared inside with a panting Jaime hot on her heels. Ten seconds later, the door opened again as two indignant women came rushing out.
Marcus halted in the long hallway. He had no recourse but to wait; there was no other way in or out of the restroom save for the one door. Leaning casually against the wall, he pulled his throwaway cell phone from his pocket and pretended to be texting. He was far enough away from the bathroom doors that Jaime’s boys ignored him. As he let one minute, then two, pass, his mind worked fast, flipping through the possibility that the woman had spotted him and was acting as Jamie’s shield. Did little brother suspect big brother had had enough? That would explain the way she’d played with him. And no way in hell was he going to let her get away with it.
When three stacked bottle blondes came stumbling down the hall looking to use the restroom, just as many of Jaime’s men told them they would have to wait. The women postured, pouted and used their wiles on the men. When one of the blondes pulled down her spandex sequined top and two impressive tits popped out, Marcus said a silent thank-you. A minute later only one of the thugs remained guarding the door. Marcus knew this would be his only chance. He also knew he’d have to take care of the lady in red. A fleeting stab of remorse needled his gut. He rushed toward the lone
Vela,
shouting,
“Reza! Reza!”
The guy started, looked up from his phone, then took off past him toward the club. When
Similar Books
