Cody (12 page)

“I’m sorry.”

She’d heard the sentiment so many times over the years. Sometimes sincere. Sometimes not. But never had it soothed the hurt deep inside her.

It didn’t now, she told herself. But she felt the slightest bit of relief anyway. Her chest didn’t feel as tight, her heart as pinched. Understanding gleamed in his eyes and for the first time since her mother had died, she didn’t feel quite so alone.

“So what about you?” he asked suddenly as if he’d sensed the camaraderie and he wasn’t all that happy about it. “Why are you here?”

“I was born here.”

“I mean
here.
” He glanced around. “Tell me about Mr. Perfect.”

“Well.” She licked her lips and searched for the right words when all she wanted to do was to turn and kiss him. “We’re both Lean and Mean Buckee Breakfast eaters.”

A grin tugged at his mouth. “I’ll probably hate myself for asking this, but what the hell is a Buckee Breakfast eater?”

“The diner serves five different sized breakfast entrees. There’s the Buckee Grande, the Buckee not-so-grande, the Buckee lean-and-mean and the Buckee is-this-all-the-hell-there-is?” When he arched an eyebrow, she added, “No, really. That’s exactly what it says on
the menu. Anyhow, the most popular is the Buckee Grande, and it’s all downhill from there. I usually order the last one which consists of wheat toast because I’m dieting.” Because everything—repeat
everything
—went straight to her hips.

“I think your hips are perfect.”

“So sayeth the sex-crazed vampire,” she told him, despite the sliver of warmth that stole through her. A feeling that had nothing to do with the lust and everything to do with the conviction in his voice. “Anyhow, I stopped off at the diner on my way to work about six months ago and ordered my usual. They got my order mixed up with someone else who’d ordered the same thing. I wouldn’t have known, but I always get the orange marmalade and they gave me apple butter. Anyhow, that’s how Greg and I met. He came back in for his apple butter and I went back for my marmalade. We recognized each other from high school and started talking.”

“So you were friends way back when?”

“I knew who he was and he knew who I was, but I was Restroom Randy and his daddy was the newly elected mayor. Friendship was out of the question. After graduation, he headed for Houston to make his way in the world while I stayed here and worked my way through junior college. When our orders got mixed up at the diner he’d just moved back here. His dad was sick and so he came home to take over the family’s dry cleaning business. His dad passed away and so now he runs things permanently. I get free steam cleaning.”

“Lucky you.”

“I know it’s not the most exciting job, but it’s a nice, respectable way to make a living. Greg’s a great guy.”

“If he was all that, then you wouldn’t be here.”

Amen.

She ignored the traitorous thought and tightened her defenses. “There are more important things than sex. We have a lot in common. We both volunteer at the local library. We love old Westerns and chai tea and gardening. He raises prizewinning Gerber daisies and—”

“Let me guess—daisies are your favorite flower.”

“Not exactly. I’m partial to roses, but you’re missing the point. I like flowers and so does he. And we both like shrimp cocktail and bingo and eighties music.”

“Sounds like a love match, all right.”

“Actually, it has nothing to do with love. I can count on Greg. He isn’t like all the other jerks out there.” He wasn’t the kind of guy who walked away as soon as the deed was done.

He wasn’t Cody Braddock.

That thought should have made her feel relieved. Instead, she felt a moment of regret so profound that it tightened her chest and made her swallow.

But then Cody’s thigh brushed hers again and the feeling faded in a wave of heat so intense it robbed the air from her lungs.

As undependable as Cody was, there was one thing she could rely on him for—the one thing she wanted right now.

Another delicious orgasm.

“We should really get started.” She pushed to her feet and started across the row of bleachers toward the stair-case
that led down onto the field. “We’ve only got a few days and six more locations after tonight. I was thinking we could get started a little earlier tomorrow night, maybe eight, and do a double feature. The gazebo first and then the library—”

“Sounds like a plan,” Cody’s voice cut in and drew her attention just as she was descending the steps.

Her head snapped up and she found him standing smack dab in the middle of the fifty-yard line, his brilliant purple eyes blazing like neon lights in the darkness.

“Take off your clothes.” His voice was gruff, sexy, mesmerizing.

Her fingers itched and she came so close to reaching for the hem of her shirt. She balled her hands and concentrated on breathing as she cleared the steps and crossed the distance to him. “You first,” she managed as she stopped just a few feet away.

He looked oddly disappointed that she didn’t obey, but then the expression faded into pure, seductive intent and Miranda couldn’t escape the feeling that she’d somehow made a huge mistake.

She’d drawn a line in the sand and she had the sudden feeling that Cody Braddock was about to do everything in his power to make her cross it.

Starting right now.

H
E WASN’T GOING TO TOUCH
her first.

Cody made that promise to himself as he faced off with Miranda on the football field. Moonlight bathed her features, accenting the dips and curves of her luscious body clothed in the simple white button-up blouse and black skirt she’d worn to work that day. She looked anything but wild and wicked at that moment, but he knew better.

He could feel the lust that ebbed and flowed through her. Even more, he could see it in the brightness of her eyes and the trembling of her full lips and the clenching of her hands. She was struggling, fighting to ignore what lived and breathed inside of her.

A
losing battle.

She was too sexy a woman to live her entire life bottling it all up. She needed to let it out. To let go. To give up her precious control and embrace her wild side, at least once. That’s why he wasn’t going to touch her first. At least not with his hands.

His mind, however, was a different story altogether.

He focused his gaze on the smooth column of her throat and reached out.

She felt the purposeful caress and shock jolted
through her for a split second. It was a reaction that had nothing to do with the fact that he was standing yards away, touching her in ways no man ever could, and everything to do with the fact that she liked it. Too much.

He watched the war of emotions on her face—pleasure going head-to-head with fear, desperation versus desire—and his determination fired hotter, brighter.

Goosebumps chased the lengths of her arms. Her nipples ripened, pushing tight against the material of her blouse. He shifted his attention lower, to the modest skirt that hit her well below the knee.

He moved his hand and the button at her waist slid free. The zipper slithered down and the skirt worked its way down her hips and legs, to her feet. Her white cotton panties quickly followed.

His attention focused on the vee between her legs. The hair had been trimmed and waxed into a neat little strip that stirred his lust and made him forget his objective for one tense, teeth-gripping moment. The urge to shove her down to the ground and plunge fast and deep into her hot body nearly overwhelmed him.

But then, that’s what she wanted. She wanted him to take the lead, the responsibility. Then she wouldn’t have to face the fact that she wanted him of her own accord.

He stood his ground and forced himself to get a grip on the hunger raging inside of him. He took a deep breath into his lungs and then let it out slowly. The rush of air carried to her, whispering over her bare flesh and teasing the tender folds between her legs.

He smelled the rush of wetness and felt the sharp tightening of her clitoris.

A nod of his head and the buttons on her blouse started to pop free one by one until the edges parted, revealing a white lace bra.

The blouse slithered down her arms and fell on top of the panties. Her nipples grew tight and hard, eager to be stroked and nibbled. Anticipation coiled inside her.

He reached out and his thumb grazed the very tip of her breast through the lace of her bra. “You’re so beautiful.” The moment he said the words, she felt the clasp give. The straps sagged on her shoulders. The cups fell away and just like that, he was actually touching her, the rough pad of his thumb rasping the sensitive nub. The pressure, sharp and sweet, tightened between her legs and she stiffened.

“
You don’t have to fight so hard
.” His deep voice slid into Miranda’s ears, skimmed her senses and stirred her body that much more. His gaze collided with hers. “
Stop running and let go
.”

She wanted to, she realized in a rush of heat so intense that it sucked the air from her lungs and stalled her heart for a long, endless moment. She wanted to give herself up to the need gripping her body. Lose herself in the sensation swamping her senses. Fully. Completely.

She’d never done that. Sex had always come with angst. With the worry that if she gave too much or went too far, she wouldn’t be able to pull herself back. She’d fall head over heels into the lust and it would suck her under the way it had her mother.

But greater than that worry was the thought that she might never feel this way again. Cody was the first man
to ever make her feel so alive and she knew deep down that he would be the last. Vampire or not, he was one of a kind.

And temporary.

He would walk away soon and she would be left with only her memories of him. Of this moment.

He lifted his own arms then and his T-shirt slithered up and over his head, as if invisible hands pushed it from his hard, muscular body. The button on his jeans popped and the zipper worked its way down. The jeans sagged on his hips and his erection sprang hot and greedy toward her.

“
Touch me
.”

The command, so desperate and gruff, called to something deep inside her and suddenly she could no more hold back than she could stop breathing.

She touched the tip before sliding her hand down his length, stroking, exploring. His dark flesh throbbed against her palm and her own body shuddered. Forget the actual sex. She wanted to drop to her knees and take him into her mouth, suck him, taste him.

The urge hit her hard and fast and for the first time, Miranda didn’t fight it. She dropped to her knees and reached for him.

She flicked her tongue and caught the drop of pearly liquid that beaded on the ripe purple head. His essence exploded on her tongue, so sweet and salty. Her own hunger stirred and she drew him into her mouth, stroking and laving and relishing the feel of him throbbing against her tongue.

She loved him with her mouth as he splayed his
fingers through her hair and cradled her head. She pleasured him until his fingers clenched and his gruff voice echoed in her ears.

“Don’t.”

Because women didn’t pleasure Cody Braddock. He pleasured women.

That’s the way it had always been for him with every woman and he wasn’t the least bit anxious for a change.

Regret welled inside of Miranda and her throat tightened. While she’d recognized that he was different from all the other men in her past, to him she was just one of the crowd. A quick lay. A fast meal—

“No.” His deep voice cut into her mental tirade as he drew her to her feet. “You’re more than that, Miranda. I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you.”

Desire blazed in his eyes, along with a gleam of conviction that melted her insecurities. Just like that, she stopped thinking and worrying and being afraid.

Rather, she stepped forward. And this time,
she
kissed
him
.

Her tongue tangled with his and she gave herself up to the feel of his mouth on hers. Sliding her arms around his neck, she held him close. She pressed her body against his, feeling the hard length of his frame.

It was the hottest kiss of her life, and it got even hotter when he turned the tables on her and took the lead.

He licked his way down her neck, her collarbone, and pleasure rushed to her brain. Her balance seemed to give way and she became lightheaded.

He arched her back and his lips caught her nipple.
She buried her hands in his hair, holding him close, arching her breast into the moist heat of his mouth as he suckled her.

“Open your eyes,” he murmured after a long, delicious moment.

Miranda did as he commanded and suddenly the dizzy, weightless feeling made sense. She glanced down to see ground far below. They hovered in midair high above the fifty yard line.

Panic swamped her, followed by a wave of desire as he caught her bottom and lifted her. In one swift thrust, he plunged deep. Her thoughts shattered and suddenly falling to her death was the furthest thing from her mind. The only thing she could think of in that next moment was feeling him closer. Deeper.

She clung to him, wrapping her legs around him and moving just enough until he was buried even more fully inside of her. The delicious fullness sent jolts of electricity chasing up and down the length of her spine. Grasping at his shoulders, she held on tight as he cupped her buttocks and urged her to move. He slid her up and down, working her, over and over. Harder and faster.

When she felt the first wave of pleasure, she dug her nails into his flesh and held on as sensation rocked her body. It was the sweetest, most wonderful orgasm to date and she caught her lip against the exquisite sensation. Her head fell back and she clamped her eyes shut. Heat drenched her and stole the breath from her lungs.

His groan, so pained and desperate, slid past the thunder of her own heart and she forced her eyes open.

His eyes fired a wild, vibrant purple. The tendons in
his neck tightened. His jaw clenched. His mouth fell open and his fangs gleamed in the dim light.

Regret hit her as she wondered if he would follow through this time, along with a niggle of fear that he wouldn’t. But then his mouth closed over the side of her neck where her pulse beat a frantic rhythm and he sank his fangs deliciously deep.

There was no pain, just a smart prickle followed by a flood of
wow
that drenched her senses and consumed her. A gasp trembled up her throat.

And then he added fuel to the fire by thrusting into her, pushing deep with his body while he drew on her with his mouth. The double dose of sensation was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. She grasped at his shoulders, holding on and riding the flood of pleasure. He drove her mindless, working her up all over again as if she hadn’t just had the most incredible orgasm of her life. She had, but it didn’t matter because this was better.

Sharper.

Sweeter.

She cried out, splintering into a thousand pieces. Her body tightened around him and he stiffened. He came then in a rush of bubbling warmth. His arms tightened. His body bucked. His teeth sank deeper, coaxing a few more sweet drops of blood as he spilled himself inside of her.

His mouth eased and he buried his head against her neck as she clung to him, savoring the tremors that rocked them both.

Slowly, her heartbeat calmed and the dizzy feeling subsided. She opened her eyes just as they reached the
ground. He loosened his hold and eased her down the length of his hard body.

The reality of what had just happened settled in as she stared up at him and saw the surprise and disbelief warring in his gaze. He stared at the prick points on her neck as if he couldn’t believe what he’d done.

As if he couldn’t forgive himself.

“Shit,” he finally murmured. “Holy
shit
.” And then he did the one thing Miranda had feared her entire life.

He left her staring after him and walked away.

H
E BIT HER.

The truth followed Cody to his pick-up truck and dogged him as he gunned the engine and peeled out of the parking lot, racing hell for leather back to the motel that sat a few blocks away.

He had to get away.

From her.

From the damnable knowledge that he’d just made a huge mistake.

Of all the stupid, crazy, irresponsible,
predictable
things.

He hadn’t been able to help himself.

She’d surrendered to him, unleashing her wild side, and it had just been too much.

He’d been so wrapped up in his own feelings, so hot and turned on and hungry, that he’d forgotten the reasons why biting her was such a bad idea. He’d said to hell with the repercussions and drank from her anyway.

And now the damage was done. The connection forged. The bond unbreakable.

The sticky sweetness of her blood lingered on his tongue and his gut clenched. His pulse raced. He could still feel the delicious heat gliding down his throat, fire-bombing his stomach. More potent than anything he’d ever tasted. More addictive.

Even now, miles away, he wanted more.

But not just her blood. He wanted her uninhibited and uncontrollable in his arms every night. He wanted her sleeping beside him every day. He wanted to talk to her and spend time with her and see her smile the way she had tonight when she’d mentioned the math club. He wanted forever.

He slammed on his brakes, swerved into the parking lot of the motel and sat there. Engine idling. Thoughts racing. His knuckles white on the steering wheel as the truth hit him like a two-by-four upside the head.

He loved her.

He felt it pushing and pulling inside of him, waging a battle far more violent than the hunger. He wanted to shove the truck into Reverse, pull out onto Main Street, haul ass back to her, sweep her up into his arms and never let go.

He wanted
her
, from this day forward, forever and ever.

But she wanted something far different.

He could feel the tears slipping down her cheeks, the anguish as she sat on the bleachers, listening for the sound of his truck. She sat there and waited for him to turn around, to come back, hoping against hope that he wasn’t like every other man.

He wasn’t.

He was worse because he wasn’t a man.

He couldn’t piddle around the garden with her or take her to the weekly church picnic or cuddle up next to her on her front porch swing and watch the sun set. He couldn’t be the stability she so desperately needed, and he sure as hell couldn’t promise her a future.

He was facing off with Garret Sawyer in less than three days. A fight to the death. And while Cody had every intention of winning, he couldn’t guarantee it.

He might not make it.

Christ, he couldn’t guarantee he’d be around next week, much less forever, and he knew she wouldn’t settle for anything less.

Because she wasn’t her mother.

She might be as lustful, but that’s where the similarity ended. She was stronger. More compassionate. She cared about other people. The people at the senior center. Her sisters. While they didn’t have the most ideal relationship, she was still there for them, helping them out when they needed her.

She made it her business to be there for everyone else, and so she deserved the same. Someone she could count on. Someone who wasn’t limited by the darkness.

Someone other than Cody.

He killed the engine and climbed out of the truck. He made it two steps before the prickling awareness hit him.