Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,52

the most effective shot you can,” he said now, recalling the scrappy fights of his misspent youth as a human, knocking around in the stables with the other bored nobles. “One that will take even the largest opponent down fast. The average man—and this goes for vampires and demons too—will expect a woman to kick him in the balls, scratch his face, or try to squirm out of his grip. But what’s most effective?”

“Aside from fifty-thousand volts up the ass?” Charlotte shrugged. “Punch him in the gut?”

“You could try that, sure. But unless you’ve got proper technique and enough power behind the hit, it won’t make a difference, and you might break your hand.”

“I have no idea, then. I would probably go for the eyes or the balls.”

“Eyes are okay. But even better? A direct hit to the knee or a stomp to the foot. You can’t always wriggle your way out of someone’s grasp, especially with a man twice your size—even more especially with a supernatural possessing more strength than you can even fathom. But you might be able to knock a knee joint out of place or crush the small bones of his foot, right at the instep. No matter how big and powerful he is, that kind of impact can take him down. Even if it’s just for an instant, it might be the instant that buys your escape and saves your life.” Dorian nodded toward the screen. “Let me show you.”

He set her up in a few different positions, walking her through alternate scenarios—being grabbed from behind, rushed from the front, pinned on the ground. After a few tries, she started to get the hang of it, so Dorian booted up a new match—no more hand-holding, no holds barred.

Bone Crusher grabbed Breaker’s arm and twisted, spinning her around backward and wrapping a meaty arm across her chest. Holding her in place on the screen, real-life Dorian resisted the urge to tell Charlotte what to do.

After struggling for a few seconds, Breaker of Balls finally raised her knee, then slammed her heel down hard, smashing Bone Crusher’s foot. As his avatar hobbled backward, she spun around and jammed a heel squarely into his knee. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his leg in agony onscreen. Breaker pressed her advantage and finished him off with a kick to the face that laid him flat.

“Bone Crusher!” the familiar game voice boomed. “You got housed!”

“That’s how it’s done, woman! Yes!” Dorian stripped off his gloves and hopped onto her platform, wrapping her up in his arms. “You did it! Look at that!”

“Did you see that?” she asked, looping her arms around his neck. She was beaming ear to ear, her whole body glowing with pride.

“I certainly did, love. The bad guys don’t stand a chance.”

“Does that really work?” she asked.

“You housed me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t I always?”

They both laughed, and for a moment it was as if they’d found a way to stop time, unaffected by everything else as their warm, slick bodies pressed together perfectly, hearts beating in sync. Charlotte slid her hands into Dorian’s hair, her breath hot against his bare chest, the hard length of him pressing into her abdomen as he buried his face in her neck. He lowered his mouth to her skin, tasting her salty flesh, breathing in her scent.

Devil’s balls, how he wanted to stay there with her, to hold her for the rest of eternity.

But letting his guard down was foolish. It was dangerous. And it only made the pain of their inevitable departure that much more unbearable.

Dorian pulled back, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. I got a bit carried away. We should probably just—”

“Eat,” she said brightly, turning her back on him and hopping down off the platform. “I’m starving. Loser makes breakfast, right?”

Dorian shook off the weight of his regrets, telling himself for the hundredth time this was all for the best, ignoring the sting of her apparent rebound.

“Breakfast,” he said. “All right, Breaker of Balls. I think I can manage that.”

After quick and—regrettably—separate showers, Dorian whipped up a feast of mushroom-and-cheddar omelets, sourdough toast, and strawberry-banana smoothies. The sound of the blender brought his other house guests round, all of them crowding into the breakfast nook again, just as they’d done last night.

Everyone but Malcolm.

It was just as well. Dorian wasn’t ready to face his brother yet. Not after the things they’d said to each other last night.

Forget knives and teeth. When it came to family, vicious