Mile High with a Vampire by Lynsay Sands

Five

“I wonder where we are.” Quinn looked around with curiosity as they crossed the empty avenue to the equally empty beach. The street was lined with businesses, but for some reason she couldn’t read the signs on the buildings. They were kind of out of focus to her. There were no cars and the beach just started suddenly on the other side of the road.

“I don’t know,” Jet said with unconcern. “Everything is kind of familiar but not. Like that restaurant reminded me of a diner Abs and I used to go to after school when we were teenagers, but it wasn’t exactly the same. And this beach reminds me of a spot I visited in Europe once.” He shrugged, not seeming bothered. “Since it’s all a dream, I’m not going to worry about it. It makes a nice break from reality.”

“Yes,” Quinn agreed, her mind shying away from thoughts of reality and shifting to the man beside her. She was much more comfortable with Jet now that she knew his adopted sister was married to a cousin of her sister’s husband. Not that she’d really been uncomfortable with Jet from the start, but now she felt more connected somehow.

“So, what made you want to be a surgeon?” he asked as they approached the water’s edge.

Quinn considered the question solemnly as they walked, and then smiled wryly and said, “As embarrassed as I am to admit it, I think I originally wanted to be a doctor to show up my sister.”

“What?” Jet glanced at her with disbelieving amusement. “How? Why? I don’t understand.”

Quinn grimaced and nodded. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Try,” Jet encouraged.

She hesitated, but then started by giving him a quick rundown on her history. “Okay. Well, Pet and I were born in China.”

“Okay,” Jet said quietly, not seeming surprised.

“But our father died when we were very young and our mother remarried,” Quinn continued. “And then she and our stepfather died and we were adopted by our godmother and her husband from America when we were six. We moved to Albany, New York, and took their last name: Stone.”

“Were your first names changed as well or were you always Quinn?” he asked.

“Our first names were always Pet and Quinn. Although Pet’s name is really Petronella. We just call her Pet because it’s easier.”

“Like they call me Jet,” he said with a nod.

She murmured agreement and then continued. “Anyway, Pet had some trouble adjusting. She . . .” Quinn sighed and shook her head. “She seemed always at loggerheads with our parents.”

“Your new adopted parents,” Jet said, wanting to make sure he was understanding.

Quinn nodded. “Yes. The Stones.”

“But you didn’t have trouble adjusting?” Jet asked.

“I . . . I don’t know,” Quinn said with a frown, and then shrugged unhappily. “I—Pet was always causing trouble, and I always felt like I had to smooth things over and behave to make up for it, so I never really considered how I felt.”

“Ah,” Jet said with understanding.

“Ah, what?” Quinn asked, narrowing her eyes on him. She found it hard to believe he understood. She certainly didn’t.

“You just said it,” Jet said with a shrug. “She was the troublemaker, so you had to smooth things over no matter how you really felt. You picked your roles.”

“Roles?” she asked uncertainly.

“Sure. Pet was the troublemaking black sheep, and you were the good girl, doing what was expected,” he said easily, and then asked, “So was it your parents who thought you should be a surgeon?”

“They were both doctors,” Quinn admitted. “They had a family practice, and because my marks were good, they were always going on about my growing up to be a doctor too, and joining the family practice someday.”

“But you rebelled,” he murmured with a nod.

“Rebelled?” she squawked with amazement. Quinn had never done a rebellious thing in her life. As he’d said, she was the good daughter to Pet’s troublemaker. And hadn’t that been one hell of a burden? her inner voice asked suddenly, making Quinn frown. Had she resented always having to be good?

“Sure, it was a form of rebellion,” Jet said, distracting her from the question, and then pointed out, “You went into surgery. Obviously, you’re never going to join the family practice when you’re a cardiothoracic surgeon.”

“You remembered the word that time,” Quinn pointed out with amusement, but was considering what he’d said. Had her choosing surgery been her own form of rebelling? A good girl’s rebellion? It was certainly true that her parents had no longer expected her to take over the family practice. But they were proud of her. It wasn’t like she’d forsaken medicine altogether and become a university professor like Pet.

“So, was your sister upset that you became a surgeon?”

“What?” Quinn asked with surprise, and then shook her head. “No, of course not. She was proud of me.”

“So, she didn’t feel shown up by your becoming one?”

Quinn stopped walking as she considered that. No, despite what she’d told herself and everyone else for years about why she’d become a surgeon, Pet hadn’t been shown up by it. As far as she knew, Pet had never begrudged Quinn for her choices, whether it was for always being the dutiful daughter, or following in their adopted parents’ footsteps and joining the medical profession. In fact, the only decision of Quinn’s that Pet hadn’t backed up one hundred percent was her marriage to Patrick. Even then, though, Pet had only asked a couple of pertinent questions, mentioned the few things that made her wonder if marrying him was smart, like his calling her his little china doll. But in the end, her sister had accepted her decision and never let her feelings on Patrick show again. For Quinn’s sake, Pet had always been welcoming and open to Patrick.

Which was doubly impressive since he’d been more than sarcastic and often unwelcoming to her “loser sister” as he’d called her on occasion. Patrick had been a snob about medicine. If you weren’t a doctor of some sort, you were somehow beneath him, and he’d considered Pet a slacker for going into history rather than medicine when she was obviously smart enough to be a doctor. But Patrick had only been rude about Pet when he was looking for a fight with Quinn, which is what he got when he insulted her sister to her. If he’d ever dared insult Pet to her face . . . Well, frankly, Quinn suspected it might have ended their marriage rather abruptly.

“Pet’s a history professor, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Quinn said, glancing at him with surprise. “How did you know that?”

“She told me.”

Quinn nearly goggled at the man. “You’ve met my sister?”

“Sure. I’ve piloted dozens of flights she, Santo, and Parker have been on over the last four years,” he informed her. “Although Parker didn’t fly with them as often after you moved to Italy.”

Quinn eyed him with curiosity, wondering how he knew when she’d moved to Italy.

Before she could ask, Jet said, “Santo and Pet are great. They’re perfect for each other. And Parker’s a good kid. Smart as a whip too.”

“Yes. He is,” Quinn said softly, thinking of her son.

“He came up to the cockpit to ride with me on most of the flights he was on, and each time asked tons of questions. I wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t fly the damned plane himself by now.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised either,” Quinn said with a grin. Her son was brilliant and inquisitive and had probably researched flying after getting off the plane the very first time. By now he probably could fly one.

“Pet or Santo would always come up after a while to make sure Parker wasn’t troubling me. Sometimes both of them would,” Jet added. “They’d often stay to talk for a bit too.”

“I can see that,” Quinn said with a faint smile. Her sister had always been a chatty Cathy compared to her more reserved self.

“And then too, Abs has invited me to a Notte family shindig or thirty over the last four years and they’re usually at those, and talk to me then as well. I like all three.”

“I’m sure they like you too,” Quinn assured him, but was thinking of all the times Pet had tried to convince her to come to one of those Notte family shindigs while she was in Italy these last three and a half years. Quinn had refused each time, insisting they go on without her. She might have met Jet at any one of them. How would she have reacted to meeting him in such a social situation?

“Do you?”

Quinn blinked her thoughts away at that question and peered up at Jet blankly, wondering when he’d moved in front of her. She could feel the heat of his body, he was so close.

“Do I what?” she asked with confusion.

“Like me?” he asked with amusement, and when she flushed and started to lower her head, Jet caught her chin with one finger and raised it back up, not letting her escape. “Come now. Be fair. You can read my mind so you know that I think you’re incredibly beautiful and have been crazy stupid attracted to you ever since I flew you, Marguerite, and Julius to Toronto from Albany four years ago.”

Quinn’s eyes widened at that news, because she hadn’t read his mind and hadn’t known that. She hadn’t even known he’d been her pilot before this flight.

“Surely you can at least tell me if you find me even a little attractive and might like me the teensiest bit?”

“I—” Quinn hesitated, swallowing thickly. It was hard to think with him so close. The finger he’d used to raise her chin had moved along her jaw where it was running lightly back and forth in a surprisingly affecting caress. And he smelled so good. Yummy even, she thought, unconsciously moving closer and inhaling deeply. Damn, he really did smell delightful! She just wanted to bury her face in his neck and surround herself with his smell.

“Quinn?” he asked gently.

“Yes,” she murmured, one hand rising to touch his stomach and then glide up toward his pecs.

Jet’s eyebrows rose and he asked uncertainly, “Yes? You find me a little attractive too?”

“Very attractive,” she assured him. “And I think I need you to kiss me.” She had no idea where the words came from, but it was how she felt so didn’t call them back. She’d obviously shocked Jet, though, if she were to judge by his expression.

“Really?” he asked as if afraid she would snatch back the offer.

“Oh, yes, please,” Quinn breathed, moving closer still until her body glided against his.

She didn’t have to ask again. Jet bent at once to cover her mouth with his and damn . . . Quinn had experienced passion before in her life. Her relationship with Patrick had started out very passionate, but it had been nothing like this. The moment Jet’s mouth touched hers it was like someone flipped a switch in her body. Every nerve from her lips down to her toes was suddenly tingling and vibrating in her body.

Quinn found herself stretching, her back arching and toes curling as her hands crept around his neck, and her fingers slid into his hair tangling in the soft dark strands. Liquid heat was already pooling between her legs at the gentle caress of his lips against hers and it made her want more. She opened her mouth under his, and he accepted the invitation at once, his tongue gliding in to wrestle with hers. They both groaned at the explosions that set off. Quinn’s whole body was suddenly trembling, her legs weak with need so that she was clutching at him now to stay on her feet. But then she wasn’t having to stay on her feet anymore. She was on the ground, and the sand was cool beneath her back in contrast to his heat as he pressed her down into it, and then his hands were moving, gliding over her body, caressing here, squeezing there.

One of his hands found a breast, and Quinn gasped into his mouth, her back bowing to thrust herself more fully into the caress as he fondled her through her blouse. She found herself wishing she wasn’t wearing it, that she was naked. But this time the dream didn’t accommodate her and present her naked for his pleasure; instead, Jet had to stop caressing her to tug at her top.

Quinn wasn’t surprised when the buttons gave way, but couldn’t find it in herself to care. She was even grateful for it because it allowed him to tug the silk out of the way. The lacy white bra was tugged aside next and then Jet broke their kiss and slid down to claim the nipple he’d revealed, drawing it into his hot mouth.

Quinn opened her eyes on a cry and stared up through the branches of a pine tree, little mewls and moans of pleasure slipping from her mouth as his tongue swirled over and around her nipple as his lips suckled.

God, it felt so damned good, she thought faintly. She felt alive for the first time in four years. And then his hand moved down between her legs and she bucked, thrusting into the heel of his hand as he pressed it against her.

“Yes. Jet. Please,” she begged, and used her hold on his hair to drag his lips away from her breast and back up to her mouth to kiss him feverishly as he caressed her through her slacks. But she wanted to touch him too. So, keeping the fingers of one hand tangled in his hair to ensure he didn’t break their kiss, she let the other slide down his body, feeling her way down his chest and then his stomach before finding the bulge between his legs. Pausing there, she covered and then squeezed his erection through his dress pants and this time it was Jet who broke their kiss.

Turning his head away on a grunt, he gasped her name almost in protest, but he was thrusting against her hand even as he did, and she smiled and then kissed and licked his neck as her fingers slid over him. He felt and smelled so damned good, so delicious, so . . .

Without realizing how it happened, Quinn was suddenly sinking her teeth into his neck. Jet moaned in pleasure, but Quinn’s eyes opened and she froze in sudden horror as she realized what she was doing, and then she was pushing him off of her and scrambling to get away from him.

“Quinn?” Jet murmured with confusion, and started to sit up, cursing when he hit his head on one of the low-hanging branches of the pine tree he’d dragged Quinn under after fetching her from the river. Rubbing his head, he glanced around with confusion. Bright morning sunlight was filtering through the branches, dappling the area with dark and light, and he supposed one of those bits of light had landed on his eyes and woken him up from the best damned dream he’d had in ages. He’d been with Quinn, and they’d—

The memory died in his mind as he realized that she wasn’t there under the tree anymore. Where had she gone?

Concern snaking through him, Jet crawled out from under the low-lying branches and then dragged himself to his feet and looked around, frowning when he noted the position of the sun in the sky. It wasn’t early morning—more like midafternoon, he realized, seeing the position of the sun in the sky. They’d slept a good portion of the day away. It made him wonder if the crazed Russian immortals had run right past where they were sleeping, or if they too had slept somewhere. He spent a moment hoping for the first option until he recalled the unsuspecting mortals at the settlement Kira had spotted when she’d climbed that tree.

They would have been helpless against them, he thought unhappily, and then noticed Quinn down by the river. She was kneeling at the shoreline, splashing water in her face.

Running one hand over his own face to try to wake himself up fully from the crazy passionate dream he’d just been enjoying, Jet started forward, grimacing when his erection protested at the movement.

“Down, fella,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to the burgeoning hard-on trying to poke its way out of his slacks. Christ, that had been a hot dream. Real sex had never been half as exciting as just kissing and caressing Quinn in a dream was. Somehow, he didn’t think that was good for him. If the woman had intruded on his thoughts when he was with other women before this, it could only be worse after that experience, he worried.

Shaking his head, he continued forward, his gaze taking in the petite woman by the water. She wasn’t just splashing water on her face; she was splashing it all over her chest too, he noted with a small frown, but before he could ask if she was all right, she apparently heard him approaching.

Quinn leapt to her feet and swung around to face him, then began to back away, putting space between them.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted miserably. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was having a dream that we had fries and then walked on a beach, and the next thing I knew I was biting you for real and I’m so sorry.”

Jet stopped, his hand going to his neck and his eyes widening, though it wasn’t at the two small wounds he felt on his throat. It was a combination of her words and the fact that her blouse was hanging wide open, the buttons missing, and one of her breasts was out of the cup of her bra, and on display. Just as it would have been if the dream he’d had was real. Had it been a dream? He was pretty sure it had been. At least at the start, but they’d been lying close together when he’d fallen asleep. He’d been spooning her. Perhaps the dream had slipped over into reality when they’d begun to kiss and caress and—

“I won’t come near you, I promise,” Quinn said now. “You’ll have to go on alone. You’re obviously not safe with me anymore.”

That snapped Jet out of his thoughts and he frowned, letting his hand slide from his neck and back to his side. But he didn’t immediately address what she’d said; instead, he said in the calmest voice he could manage, “I think we had best move away from the water to somewhere with a little more cover to discuss this, Quinn. Kira or the others could come upon us at any moment here.”

Quinn shook her head. “I think you should just go. I’m as much of a threat now as they are.”

“No. You’re not,” Jet assured her. Still using his calm voice, he took a step toward her, holding his hand out. “Please, let’s just move a little way into the trees and talk.”

When Quinn shook her head wildly and backed farther away, Jet stopped at once, and peered along the opposite shoreline as he debated what to do. Finally, he just looked at her and asked, “Were you dreaming we were in a hospital and then an old-fashioned-style restaurant with booths?”

Quinn froze at the question, her mouth dropping open.

That was answer enough for Jet to know that it had definitely been a shared dream, but he continued. “We had shakes, and fries with enough vinegar, ketchup, and salt on them to kill anyone with a mortal ticker, and then we walked on the beach. We talked about family and I admitted I was attracted to you and have been for over four years and then we . . . er . . .” Rather than put words to what they’d done, he gestured to her open top.

Quinn looked down with confusion, and then gasped and tucked her breast back in her bra even as she pulled her blouse closed. She then tried to do up the buttons, but there weren’t any to do up. He’d popped them off trying to get to her breast in the dream . . . and apparently in real life too. In the end, she tied the tails of the blouse together under her bra. It left her stomach on display, but her bra and what it protected were covered now.

Once that was done, she raised her head and asked with some dignity, “How do you know what I was dreaming?” Then she frowned. “And how the hell did my clothes get ruined in real life from a dream?”

“Well, I’m thinking we shared the dream,” Jet said quietly, knowing exactly what that meant.

Apparently, Quinn didn’t, he realized with amazement when she frowned and asked, “Is that possible? How could we share a dream?”

Jet could hardly believe the question. She was the damned immortal, supposed to know this business, not him. He only knew because Abs had explained about life mates and their symptoms to him to reassure him that she wasn’t moving too quickly and making a mistake when it came to her and Tomasso. Which was something he’d worried about. At least until he’d got to know the guy and watched him with Abs for a bit. The two really were perfect for each other.

“It’s not possible,” Quinn muttered.

Jet scowled at her announcement and shifted his feet. “Then how do I know what we were dreaming? How do I know that your father died when you were tiny and then your mother and her new husband when you were six and you were shipped off to Albany, New York, to be raised by your godmother and her husband who are both physicians with a family practice they wanted you to join?”

When she stared at him silently, apparently at a loss as to how to explain it, he assured her, “It is possible. We had a shared dream. It happens all the time . . . Between possible life mates.”

“What?” she squawked with dismay.

“It’s one of the ways life mates recognize each other. Shared dreams are one of the symptoms,” he explained, and then scowled. “And Marguerite should have taught you that while she was explaining everything else about immortals four years ago. Why the hell didn’t she?”

“She might have,” Quinn admitted unhappily. “But I’m afraid I wasn’t a very good pupil. I didn’t listen half the time and . . . I was having trouble accepting what I was. It’s why they let me go to Italy. They were hoping Pet could help me adjust and finish my training.” She grimaced and then confessed, “But I let her think my training was done. I just wanted peace and quiet and to be left alone to deal.”

Jet was silent for a minute, but then rustling from the woods made him shift nervously and glance around. “Well, I’m not staying out here in the open to discuss this. If you want to talk I’ll be in the woods . . . all alone, waiting for either you or one of the blood-lusting locos to find me.”

Turning on his heel on that note, Jet walked into the woods. It wasn’t like he had a choice. He couldn’t force the woman to come talk to him, but he was hoping she’d follow if only to try to convince him to go on without her. Really, though, he was hoping she’d want to discuss this life mate business. He certainly did. Jet had never imagined that he’d be a possible life mate for an immortal. But it explained a lot. His obsession with the woman these last four years after just seeing her board the plane a couple of times had more than once made him feel loco. Like one of those creepy stalker-type guys. He felt a little better knowing there might be a good reason for it. Christ! He was a possible life mate to her. Now what?

While he asked the question, his brain didn’t have a ready answer. Never having imagined that he might be a life mate to someone, Jet had never contemplated such an issue and wasn’t at all sure if he even wanted to be one. Being a life mate meant turning like Abs had done, and that meant becoming a blood drinker, which just sounded disgusting to him.

That passion, though, part of his mind argued. Damn . . . A man could live off that alone for several lifetimes. Hell, just thinking about it was reawakening Mr. Happy in his pants.

Grimacing, Jet adjusted himself and glanced around until he spotted a handy log to sit on. It was long dead, gray from the elements leaching any last remains of life from it. But it seemed solid enough and didn’t crumple under his weight, so he relaxed on the log and waited, not at all sure Quinn would come to him. He was mightily relieved when she slid out of the woods a moment later and then hesitated, eyeing him uncertainly.

When Jet patted the log next to him, she moved forward, but she didn’t sit where he’d indicated. Instead, she picked the opposite end of the log, as far from him as she could get.

They were both silent for a minute. Jet because she was so damned beautiful. The woman was lovely in her professional garb and persona, but with her shirt tied like that, leaving a deep neckline that revealed the curves of her breasts and left her stomach on display, not to mention her hair all poofy and wild around her head from their make-out session, she was fucking breathtaking. He just wanted to tug her shirt open again, but remove her bra as well this time and—

“Do you really think we’re life mates?”

Jet blinked his lusty thoughts away, wiped away the drool at the corner of his mouth with the back of one hand, and cleared his throat. “Yes.”

That was it. Yes. It was all he could manage just then. Mr. Happy wasn’t very happy being restricted to his dress slacks all swollen and hot as he was, and Jet was quite sure the blood now engorging Mr. Happy had come straight from his brain, because it seemed pretty empty of all but what he’d like to do with Quinn at the moment.

Quinn sighed heavily and peered down at her hands sadly. “I don’t think I’m ready for a life mate, Jet. I need counseling or something first. Actually, I need to get my shit together, figure out what I’m going to do with my life, and get to it so I can look after my son, and I need to figure all that out before I even consider getting involved with someone in a romantic way.”

How about just no-strings-attached crazy monkey sex, then?some part of Jet’s mind screamed, but he abruptly shook the thought from his head as inappropriate and considered the fact that while he wasn’t at all sure he wanted to be a life mate either, her saying she wasn’t ready for one still hurt. Weird, he thought, but then cleared his throat and said, “Perhaps we can worry about that later. Right now, I think we should concentrate on getting to civilization and finding some help for the other ladies from the plane.”

“Right.” Quinn stood abruptly, but turned apologetically to him. “You need to go on without me. I’ll try to locate the others and hold them off long enough for you to—”

“That’s not going to happen,” Jet interrupted firmly, and when she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand to silence her, before saying solemnly, “Quinn, I won’t make it out of these woods without you. I would if I didn’t have crazy blood-hungry vamps on my ass, but I do, and I’m only mortal. You can’t hold back four of them on your own, and I can’t outrun them on my own. I need you.”

“But I bit you,” she cried as if he might have forgotten that fact. He hadn’t. In fact, he was recalling the increased pleasure and excitement he’d experienced when she did it and was thinking he wouldn’t mind experiencing it again. Besides, she needed the blood, so really, he was being selfless.

“You got pretty banged up in the rapids,” he said. “And you’re really pale. You obviously need blood. And I need you to be strong and healthy to help me survive,” he added solemnly. “I think you should bite me and take some blood. Just enough for you to be able to get us to help,” he rushed on quickly when she began to protest. When she hesitated, looking uncertain, he pointed out, “It’s not just for me, Quinn. Whatever people there are in the town or camp Kira saw are under threat too. We need to call in help or they could be killed as well.”

When her shoulders drooped in defeat, he almost sagged with relief. He really did need her help to get away from the Russian immortals, and he wasn’t too proud to say so. Jet knew his strengths. He’d been trained in self-defense both before and while in the navy and could carry his own against most men, and even a lot of animals, although he wouldn’t have willingly taken on a bear. But he was mortal, with a mortal man’s strength. He could not go up against immortals and win. Not without a damned weapon or something.

“How do you want me to do this?”

Jet glanced at Quinn at that question and then hesitated briefly, before holding out his wrist. He’d really rather return to what they’d been doing earlier, and go from there, but speed was somewhat important here, so the wrist seemed the fastest vein for her to tap.

Quinn eyed his wrist anxiously, but then moved closer. She didn’t sit down. She didn’t have to. She was short enough that she could take his hand and raise it to her mouth with him sitting. Jet closed his eyes, expecting the same pleasure and bliss he’d experienced when she’d bit his neck earlier, but after a moment during which she hesitated, what he felt was sharp pain and a drawing sensation that hurt like a son of a bitch and made him whimper like a girl.

Quinn froze at the sound, her eyes shooting to his face. She’d been worried that she’d have trouble bringing her fangs on and doing this, but the moment she’d raised his wrist to her face and his smell had enveloped her, her fangs had slid down and drool had formed in her mouth. Still, she’d hesitated a moment before biting, not at all comfortable with doing this. But she had, and now she frowned and withdrew her fangs as she saw the pain on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely as she released her hold on his arm.

“Fuck,” Jet muttered, rubbing his wrist as he stood to pace away. “That freaking hurt. Why the hell did it hurt? It didn’t hurt when we were—” Stopping abruptly, he swung back to her. “Abs said she didn’t feel it the first time Tomasso bit her. That he distracted her with kisses and caresses.”

Quinn eyed him uncertainly. “Okay.”

“And that’s what was happening when you bit me the first time and I didn’t feel pain then,” he pointed out, moving back to her. “So, if we kiss and do stuff again, you should be able to bite me without hurting me.”

Quinn’s eyes widened. “You want me to—?”

That was as far as she got before he bent and kissed her. There was no buildup this time, no brushing of lips against lips. This time his tongue was out, seeking entrance the moment their mouths met.

Quinn opened to Jet without hesitation when his mouth covered hers. Her arms crept up around his neck and then she gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist when he suddenly straightened, taking her with him. She was vaguely aware of his moving, but was too distracted by his thrusting tongue tangling with hers to pay it much attention until she felt the tree press into her back. Pinning her against the tree with his lower body, Jet broke their kiss and leaned his upper body back to see what he was doing as he went to work at undoing the knot she’d put in her blouse to keep it closed.

Quinn had barely glanced down to see that that was what he was doing when he managed to undo her blouse and tug it open to reveal her lacy bra to his view. She watched him run one finger along the edge of the lace, and then that finger slid under the delicate cloth and tugged it down under first one breast and then the other.

His hands were immediately claiming the bounty he’d revealed and Quinn leaned her head back against the tree and moaned as he caressed her.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, and then claimed her open mouth and kissed her again.

Quinn kissed him back eagerly, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she arched into his caress, and then he broke their kiss and offered her his neck. Her fangs immediately slid out and down, but she hesitated, afraid to hurt him, and then she ran her lips lightly over his throat, but didn’t bite, instead, she slid her hand down between them to find the bulge of his groin. Quinn had to urge him back a bit and let herself slide down his length an inch or two to reach it, but then they both groaned as she covered his hardness and began to rub and caress him.

“Oh God, Quinn,” Jet groaned, nipping at her ear with excitement, and Quinn finally let her teeth glide into his neck.

She felt him stiffen against her, and almost withdrew her fangs, afraid she was hurting him, but then he began to thrust into her caressing hand, moaning, “Oh, yes, Quinn, yes. God, baby. Oh my God.”

Relieved, she left her fangs in and continued to caress him, her own body responding as if she was caressing herself, the sensation building on top of the excitement of his hands moving over her breasts, kneading and squeezing and then tweaking her nipples. It was all blurring together and building inside of her, wave after wave of mounting excitement and need, and then a distant shriek caught her ear just as Jet suddenly moaned and staggered.

Quinn was already removing her fangs from his neck when he then dropped to his knees, taking her with him. Pulling back, she peered at him with concern as he opened his eyes.

“Don’t stop,” he moaned, but he was swaying slightly and she knew she’d taken more blood than she probably should have. Reaching for his wrist, she took his pulse, relieved to feel it only a little elevated, and then another shriek sounded in the distance. She couldn’t tell how far away they were, but if they could hear them, they were too close as far as she was concerned, and Quinn hugged Jet briefly, and whispered, “We have to go.”

“Yeah.” He sighed the word into her hair, stirring it with his breath.

“Can you get up?” she asked, standing up now, and offering him her hand.

Jet took it, but only used it to steady himself as he stood.

“How are you?” he asked with a small frown. He was swaying on his feet, his expression a bit disoriented, and she brushed a strand of hair back from his face and smiled.

“I’m good. Better. You will be too, once I get you to safety. Now wait here for a minute.” Urging him closer to the tree, she leaned him against it so he wouldn’t fall over, and then quickly scrambled up the tree. Quinn didn’t think about it, she just did it, which was pretty impressive, really. She had never climbed a tree before, not even as a kid. But her strength made it a breeze and she climbed up as far as the tree would hold her and then moved the branches blocking her view to peer out at the surroundings.

She spotted the encampment first, and it was definitely looking like some kind of camp or hotel, not a town, and then she followed the sound of another shriek and looked back the way they’d come the night before. At first, she couldn’t see anything, but then she thought she spotted movement in a distant tree and immediately began to scramble back down the one she was in. The encampment was closer than the movement Quinn had seen in the trees behind them, but as fast as immortals moved she wouldn’t have long to get Jet and the people in the camp away to safety before the Russian women would be on them.

Jet was still leaning against the tree when she landed on the ground next to it. Quinn didn’t take the time to explain; she simply hefted him over her shoulder and broke into a run in the direction of the camp . . . and started to pray.