“Oh yeah?” It was warm outside—easily over ninety degrees—and Jackson’s body heat only made it warmer. A trickle of perspiration slid down my spine. He was hitting on me. That didn’t seem like something someone should do to a buddy’s female companion, even in an unusual relationship like mine and Declan’s.
“I can take you to places you’ve never been before. I’m not asking for a relationship here, just a bit of fun. A way to let off some steam.”
A bit of fun—something I hadn’t had in a very long time. Too bad it was Jackson doing the offering. “What about Declan?”
He shook his head. “Declan’s like a eunuch. He can’t satisfy you like I can, even if he wanted to. It won’t be long before you start looking elsewhere. Despite all you’ve been through, I see that fire inside of you. And I know how to quench it.”
“You want to f**k me.” I stated it bluntly to make sure I understood him correctly—not that he was being subtle about it.
“Very much. And what do you want?” He leaned closer so I could feel the line of his body, which included a very stiff erection that he wasn’t shy about pressing against me.
“What do I want?” I put my hand on his chest and slid it down between us, over his rather impressive denim-clad hard-on. Then I grabbed it and twisted. “I want you to f**k off.”
Pain registered on his face, but he let out a low, throaty laugh. “I guess I have my answer.”
I let go of him, feeling that my point had been made rather succinctly. “No offense intended, of course.”
“Of course not.” His eyes flicked behind me as he cupped his hand over his assaulted groin and stepped away from me. “Declan. You’re back.”
I glanced to my left. Declan’s emotionless gaze was narrow, and I wondered if he’d seen what just happened.
“Let’s go,” was all he said.
Very soon I’d start the painful process of cleaning my blood. Soon I’d be back to my normal life—the life that didn’t include amorous—or rather, lecherous—vampire hunters who left me cold, or dhampyrs who made my blood hot and my body yearn for more than they were able to give me.
I’d never been a big fan of disappointment.
THREE
I had a shower back at the motel room to cool off. Declan went out to get us food. When I emerged with wet hair, after pulling on some clean leggings and a tank top, he was already back.
He held up the brown paper bag. “Burgers. And fries.”
“Running for my life is fattening.” I didn’t really mean it. Since I’d been poisoned, I’d lost weight. I could actually count my ribs now, which was a bit disturbing, since I wasn’t eating any less than I normally did. I figured the Nightshade revved up my metabolism. It was another side effect to add to the list.
I leaned my hip against the table and ran my fingers through my damp hair to get the tangles out. Declan sat at the small table and looked down at his hands. He seemed preoccupied about something.
“What’s the problem?” I asked.
He looked at me. “Why do you think there’s a problem?”
“You’re quieter than normal. Not that you’re usually a chatterbox, but—”
“I heard you talking with Jackson.”
“What part?”
“All of it.” He raised his gray gaze to mine, stroking his fingers over his eye patch to adjust it back into its proper place.
“He came on to me.”
“I know.”
“And I told him to f**k off.”
His lips curved. “I know.”
I felt concerned, since he still looked troubled. “What’s really wrong, Declan?”