Real Vampires Know Size Matters (Glory St. Clair #10)

“Good to know.” If I slapped him, would he shut the hell up?

“Don’t be mad, Glory, I heard a sweet compliment in there. Go on, Jeremiah.” Cait rubbed his thigh where she’d hit him pretty hard.

“It was a compliment. I’m trying to explain how it was with Melisandra. When I was around her in Miami, my thirst was out of control. I could barely think about anything but having her blood. It had to be some kind of voodoo spell she’d worked on me. Then, when we were close . . .” He stared down at his boots. “Well, I finally refused to fuck her again. I won’t call it making love. She’d always tried to turn my feeding into something sexual. Then she showed up here, wanting to start up again. I still had that unnatural thirst, but I managed to fight it. I guess her spell was wearing off.”

“This isn’t helping, Jerry.” I dug my nails into the arms of the chair to keep from leaping across the room and wrapping my hands around his neck. Jerry was a wonderful, powerful lover. I had a picture now of his body against Mel’s, his mouth on her . . . everywhere.

It was all I could do not to scream my pain, turn Jerry to stone, or toss his precious coffee table around the room until glass rained over us and the chrome was a twist of metal that I used to castrate him.

Cait obviously saw my evil smile at that idea and didn’t like it. “Now, now. Let’s get this straight. Miami? I gather this was when you and Glory were taking a break?” Cait was trying to soothe troubled waters. Obviously I looked pretty scary. “Come on, Glory, you know you’ve had other men when you two were apart. Cut him some slack.”

“Oh, I have. Cut him slack and had other men.” I finally threw off my jacket, leaned back and crossed my legs. I moved my arms so that the satin stretched over my breasts. Jerry took note of course. He liked me in satin. Tough shit.

“I’ll tell you all about them sometime, Caitie.” I showed just the tip of my fangs and licked my lips to bug Jerry. “But we’re done with our extracurricular activities now. Since this bitch has threatened me, we’re supposed to be working together to get rid of her. What do you say, Jerry? Are you on board with that? Or has she got you under her spell again?” The devil made me do it? Lame but possible.

Jerry jumped up. “God damn it. I want her gone for good. That’s the only reason I confronted her last night. I had my knives ready, fully prepared to kill her if I had to. You know that, Gloriana. How the hell things went so wrong . . .” He ran his hands through his hair. “This memory thing is driving me mad.”

“She drugged you.” Bart stood in the door from the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind, but I kept that extra key and let myself in the back door.”

“Doctor.” Jerry turned, clearly jumpy. “Seriously? It was a drug. Not—”

“Not amnesia. Or at least not a recurrence of your old problem.” Bart came into the room and kissed Cait on the cheek. “Gloriana, you look, um, dangerous tonight.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Bart. That’s exactly the look I was going for.”

“A drug, you say. Any idea what kind?” Jerry sat again, clearly relieved.

“You don’t want to discuss this now.” Bart glanced at me.

“Oh, yes, he does.” I leaned forward. “Was it the date rape drug? Did that voodoo vixen make Jerry have sex with her under the influence?”

“What the hell?” Jerry shot to his feet again, one of his knives in his hand. “No one can force me to do that.”

“Want to bet?” Bart faced him. “Sorry, Jerry, but this drug makes you lose track of time, forget what happened, and does a number on your libido. While you were under its influence you had to have sex, were wild for it. It scrambles your brain, makes you lose touch with reality and of course wipes out your memory. While you were drugged you might have even imagined you were with another lover. Gloriana for example.” Bart glanced at me. “If you said her name during the act, I’m sure that would make the woman who drugged you hate Glory even more.”

“God, I need a shower.” Jerry looked sick and staggered away, holding on to the banister when he headed up the stairs.

“Bart! Surely there’s been a mistake.” I felt like crying, my urge to talk tough vanishing. “You really think Jerry might have had sex with Mel and not realized who or what he was doing?”

“Exactly.” Bart sat in Jerry’s spot and pulled Cait against him. “It’s a hell of a drug. The bitch was clever. Ian and I are still trying to figure out how she got it into Jerry.” He spouted some scientific jargon that went right over my head.

“He didn’t want to drink from her. He wanted to kill her.” I looked toward the stairs. I wanted to go to Jerry, console him somehow. But the idea that he’d been intimate with that woman . . . My stomach churned.

“Ian is all over it. He’s fascinated by the voodoo connection. We’re wondering if she mesmerized Jerry somehow, then made him drink a tainted blood. I don’t know.” Bart kissed the top of Cait’s hair. “I can’t imagine how you feel, Glory. Knowing how she used Jerry.”

“How do you feel, Glory?” Cait’s eyes filled with tears. “Are you furious, hurt, ready to give up on my brother?”

“Mad at Mel of course. But I can’t abandon Jerry now. You heard him. He loves me. He was trying to protect me.” I stood.

“Don’t blame yourself, for God’s sake.” Bart was on his feet. “But I’m sure he could use your support right now. She made a fool of him. He’s a proud Scot. We can’t stand to be exploited.”

“No, it’s the worst kind of humiliation. If I abandon Jerry now, she’s won, hasn’t she? No way in hell I’m giving her my man.” I stalked to the stairs and ran up them. When I got to Jerry’s bedroom door I heard the shower running. Steam filled the bathroom but I could see Jerry through the glass shower doors. He was leaning against the tile, the hot water hitting his back, his head bowed, the picture of despair. I couldn’t stand it. I stripped off my clothes, piling them on a chair in the bedroom before I slid the glass shower door open.

“Gloriana. How can you want to be with me now?” He didn’t reach for me. His eyes were bleak when he looked over his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel clean again.”

“Then let me help you.” I grabbed the bar of soap and a washcloth. “And of course I want to be with you. You’re my lover, my best friend, Jerry.” I smiled, kissed the spot under his right shoulder blade where he had an old scar, then ran the cloth over his broad back. “Relax and let me take care of you. This is just another battle wound. It will heal.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He turned to me, letting me soap his chest and his earth brown nipples as the water hit us both.

“Quit talking, Jerry.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe I just said that. How many times have I begged you to communicate, to share your feelings? But this moment is too important. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you were Mel’s victim.”

“By God!” Jerry’s fists clenched.

“That’s right, you should be livid, not up here feeling sorry for yourself. You’re a virile, dynamic man who always makes my knees weak when you look at me, touch me.” I gave his body a good checking out, my heart pounding as I saw how aroused he was. I ran that soapy washcloth down to scrub away any hint of voodoo priestess from his cock. I couldn’t bear the thought that she’d taken him inside her.

“If that woman were here now, I’d break her neck with my bare hands.” He pressed his fist against the tile wall and I could see his muscles jump. “Gloriana, you are the only woman I want. I hope you believe that.” Jerry pulled me against him, our bodies slick and warm, easily finding our fit from years, no, centuries of practice.

“Prove it.” I wrapped one leg around his, his hard cock nudging my inner thigh. “You’re mine, Jeremiah. Take me with your eyes wide open. Know you’re with me every minute. I don’t need to cast some lame-ass spell to have you, do I?”

He lifted me, wrapping both my legs around his waist as he pushed into me. He pressed my back against the tile, the warm water cascading around us. Feeling him inside me, I thought about what he’d said. That my blood was home to him. Sweet words. And so very true for me as well.

“Drink from me, Jerry. Get more of her poison out of your system. Drink until you can’t remember what in hell she tasted like.”

He growled and leaned forward, striking hard, his mouth rough at my jugular. I’d stoked the anger simmering inside him. I wanted him in fighting form, not moping around like a wounded little boy. As he began his rhythm, coaxing an answering arousal in me with a clever finger, I had proof again that he was far from an inexperienced child. Jerry knew all my pleasure points and easily brought me to a screaming crest. Then he turned off the water and wrapped me in a towel.

On his bed, he stripped away the cover to stare down at me.

“My beauty. Let me love you.”

“Have at it.” I smiled and held out my arms. He fell into them, kissing me breathless before he rolled me over to lick a path from my shoulder blades to behind my knees with stops in between. I moaned when he pressed open my legs and pulled me up to kiss me intimately. His clever tongue made me call his name and beg him to come inside me again. He did, mounting me and riding me like he was the bull in a barnyard. He held my hips, his arms strong, his cock filling me and making me gasp as he surged into me time after time.

He said my name over and over, as if to reassure himself that he was with me, only me. I came apart, crying out his name, my heart demanding it. When he rolled me over to face him, I felt loose-limbed, replete.

“Drink from me, Gloriana. Or are you afraid my blood might be infected by that creature?”

My answer was to pull him down so I could sink my fangs into his vein. I tasted his blood and couldn’t help the questions that haunted me. Did it taste different? Contaminated by Mel’s evil? I didn’t stop for long, his sweet familiarity reassuring. I drank until satisfied, licking the punctures closed with a sigh.