Chapter Six

Kelly

I couldn’t help but be excited by my momentary release. Tomorrow, I could be the same old Kelly, but tonight, I could be whomever I wanted. It already felt like a fantasy I had no hope of dreaming up on my own.

That was the gift this place gave people: the ability to be free. I could see that now and understand it a little better.

I chanced a relatively shy glance back at Marcus, his returning wolfish grin charming and titillating. His blue-green eyes sparkled with humor, running his fingers lightly down my arm to lace his fingers with mine.

I stared down at the mark of ownership, unused to such shows of affection. I blushed again, but I turned my head so he couldn’t see it.

I knew what I was doing was wicked, but that just made it more appealing to me since it was a first. There was no rational explanation for why I was doing this; my regular need for the mundane mattered little as I cut through the people that separated my destination from me. Indeed, I could ignore the inner voice that wondered where my head was at for a little while.

Yes, I could have taken care of my needs another way, but it wouldn’t have been quite as memorable.

I had always thought that if I were going to do anything, it should be done well and to its fullest extent. I could address two very deep-seated needs rather than just one. Multi-tasking, I liked it.

The bathrooms within the club were perfect for my needs.

The short hallway consisted of four doors, three separate private bathrooms, and an exit. I wondered if such a setup was a forethought of the owners or if they had bought the building with rooms conveniently in place for the escapades that must occur here, along with a way to exit directly without being seen.

I led him into the nearest unoccupied one, losing my hard-won nerve as I passed the threshold.

Then I heard the door close softly behind me.

Was I a fool for doing this? I was going to get hurt.

I closed my eyes and cursed my stupidity. I wasn’t ready to do it this way.

My mind went off, racing to find an excuse to get out of this, now second-guessing myself, even though I still wanted to do it.

I felt him walk up behind me. His presence filled the room, taking up every available square inch of space. I felt him touch me and run the back of his hand up to my shoulders.

I shivered from the gentleness of that one touch. He pressed his lips to my shoulder, bending his body to make up for my lack of height. For anyone else, it would have been awkward, but I had a feeling that Marcus had never had an embarrassing moment in his life.

I would have bet money that he never had panic attacks, either. I closed my eyes and fought back the anxiety that ate away at my confidence.

His big hands closed over my shoulders and turned me around to face him. I felt the heat in my cheeks as I took in the hunger in his gaze. His pupils were dilated again, and he didn’t seem to be breathing.

“Why are we in here?” Marcus asked. His direct stare moved to my eyes, searing me completely. I had a feeling I couldn’t hide anything from him, and it didn’t serve me very well.

I had a lot to hide.

His tone of voice had changed. His demeanor wasn’t as easygoing now but much tenser. Marcus didn’t seem to be drunk anymore either, standing straighter with his eyes more apparent.

My tongue swiped across my dry lips, and he followed the movement closely as if transfixed by it. I had never felt more like I was on display than I had in that moment. I turned from him, all excuses scattering to the winds.

The soles of my feet were crying out for mercy, the confining black heels cutting in so many places and giving me the excuse I sought.

I sat on the closed toilet seat, running my options through my mind. I smiled up at him shyly. My eyes never quite met his, but they stayed on his nose or forehead. His solid stare unnerved me a little.

“Heels are not my friends,” I said quietly, trying to break the sudden tension.

This should have only been about survival, but it wasn’t. Not anymore.

But what if I messed up again and hurt him? He hadn’t done anything to warrant that, not like the last man I had fed from, and ended up killing.

I stared at him through the peek-a-boo pockets in the strands of my fallen hair, appreciating just how unattainably gorgeous he was.

He was like the world’s most perfect present, which I wanted to spend the rest of the night unwrapping. The bloodlust in me rose, and I fought to tamp it down and not ruin my appetite for much more pleasurable acts.

My reaction to him was nearing violence already, and it had only been an hour. What would happen to me if it had been three or four?

I had never reacted to a man like this before, and something about the way he looked at me spiked my resolve just enough to continue when I would have reverted to my shell, as Sara called it.

I knew that once it started, everything could roll on its own without prodding from me. Once I got near what I needed, something infinitely more sinister would take over. I had only fed a few times, but it was enough to know what would likely happen.

Well, there was no time like the present, I thought to myself.

He was standing in front of me, so close that I could smell him. My nostrils flared, every sense on alert.