How can I feel all these things at the same time?
“No, not like Sonya. What we just did…I can’t tell you how badly I’ve wanted to do that. And for a seriously long time that you can’t even begin to comprehend,” and the stalker’s back in the room. “What I did with Sonya? That was something I needed to do.”
I can’t hide the hurt in my eyes, a painful frown scrunching up my face; what I just felt for him was the greatest and most powerful need for someone that I’ve ever felt in my life. I didn’t just want to fuck him, I needed him…in a terrifying, primal way that I didn’t know I was capable of. To hear him say he needed Sonya stabs me squarely in the chest.
He does that freaky mind-reading thing again – although maybe it’s just that my face is so expressive that it’s easy to guess my thoughts; I’ve been called an open book many times before.
“Not like that, sweetheart. I don’t need her for sex, that’s her payoff…” he struggles for the right words, “…what she gave me is something I need to survive.”
My subconscious connects some obscure dots and I blurt out, “You bit her? Why do you need to bite her to survive?”
I’m not sure what I’m asking or insinuating and I’m afraid of the dark road this line of questioning is going down. I’m naked and vulnerable with alarming thoughts and a devilishly delicious man whose whole demeanor just shifted.
Jackson’s eyes darken like a predator hunting, but there’s a nervous energy filling the air between us.
This is it; he has no choice but to answer everything he’s been dodging up to this point.
“Ask yourself, Emilia, what kind of beautiful creature would be able to see that through a serious drug haze? How many people do you know would be back on their feet within a few short hours after being roofied, let alone able to sprint full speed away from me? Do you think there are many people who can push me away when I’m determined not to be? And bear in mind that I am, without a shadow of a doubt, the strongest man you have ever met.” His words are dark, urgent and I think unintentionally menacing; I don’t doubt his strength – deep down I’ve known that all along.
But I don’t know what he’s trying to say…his riddles annoy me.
Just tell me straight. What the fuck you are talking about?
“Don’t deflect the question and change the subject vampire-boy,” I say it flippantly with a sarcastic reference to his still-unexplained sexual biting of Sonya, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I know they’re actually the answer.
His eyes widen with a mixture of fear and relief.
“Still so perceptive, Miss. Vincent.”
What. The. Fuck?
“Are you fucking kidding me? What…I…I don’t understand…?” I try to keep the alarm out of my voice, but a montage of bogie-man type stories and horror movies fill my imagination and I shrink further into the wall.
He visibly blanches as I try to create more distance between us and it momentarily pulls at my heartstrings…until sanity prevails…and that sanity is instantly confused.
There are no such things as vampires…right?
Chapter Seven
If Jackson Smoak is a vampire, then he’s just raised some very valid points about what the fuck I am.
And I’m terrified of the answer.
Am I actually entertaining the idea that he’s telling the truth?
The fear in his eyes and the serious set of his features make me inclined to believe him…and that terrifies me too.
I sit with my naked back to the wall we were just fucking against and argue with myself. Perhaps it’s not the truth and he’s just high and fucking with me?
Another glance in his emotive eyes tells me otherwise.
He’s gauging my response and I don’t think he likes it so far.
I sit in silence waiting for him to explain what the fuck is going on; he sighs heavy and resigned.
“I’m not a monster, Emilia. I’m just a man…with a stranger than normal dietary requirement. The polar opposite of veganism, if you will.”
My mind trips over how blasé he’s being, considering how reluctant he’s been to share with me up to now.
My voice has vacated the premises, so I just nod.
“Say something, Emilia,” he urges.
I have no idea what to say. What would anyone say? At least this finally explains why a woman would want Rohypnol for her first time…her first time being bitten.
“Say what, exactly? I have no sphere of reference for this…bombshell. Should I ask if you plan to eat me?” It’s a stupid question, but I ask it in lieu of any other intelligent question.
But I already know the answer: Jackson Smoak has had ample opportunity to hurt me if that was his intention. The only ferocity he’s shown toward me was the epic fuck – and despite it all, it really was epic. Aside from that, he’s been nothing but courteous and dare I say it, tender with me.
“I’ve already eaten you, Emilia, and I’m dying to taste that delectable pussy again,” he murmurs wickedly.
His words make my clit throb longingly.
No.
I will not be side-tracked by the man who’s just confessed to needing blood to survive. What rational woman would let herself be led astray at this point?
I wrap my arms tightly around myself, shielding my nakedness and fighting the nauseous feeling inside my stomach. I fight to stay in control and concentrate hard to come up with my next question.
“As you mentioned dying, what is your position on that? Do you have a heart? Are you immortal? Dead already?” I try to stop the climbing pitch of my voice as my mind runs away with Hollywood horror stories.
“Breathe, Emilia. You know I have a heart; you felt it beat violently enough for you. And I’m not dead. Far from it. I feel very much alive…even if you did just crush my fragile feelings by pushing me away,” he teases.
Honestly, does he have no comprehension of the gravity of what he’s saying?
“This is not the time to be teasing me, Jackson. You are changing the very fabric of my understanding of the world around me. You can’t just flip my rational little world on its head and laugh about it like it’s some great joke.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, looking suitably contrite. “It’s just you seem to be taking it well. It’s not unusual for there to be fear, tears, and fainting. But you’re just sitting there – albeit as far away from me as possible. You haven’t even tried to reach your clothes or the bed sheet to cover yourself up; you’re gloriously naked and asking somewhat reasonable questions. So, in answer; I am not dead, I have a heartbeat, I need blood to survive and I guess I’m what you’d call immortal; I’ve been around for a long-ass time. Oh, and in case you missed it…I can go outside in daylight.”
I try to process this; it helps that I feel completely numb. Like an observer watching my life unfold from a safe distance instead of actually living it.
“So, sex for blood? Sonya was feeding you?” I’m repulsed by the idea that part of her is in Jackson; that he went to her for his survival needs.
“Vampires, and I use the term loosely as we don’t particularly like being called that, are in the moment creatures. We feel every emotion intensely – it can be very overwhelming at times – and yes, we do feel and experience the same emotions as ‘normal’ people. This means that we feel our hurt and anger more violently, but equally our feelings for lust and love are exceptionally powerful; we are skilled in experiencing and giving ultimate pleasure. It also helps that we are more endowed and have extra stamina than ‘regular’ men,” his eyes smolder, a reminder of my first-hand knowledge of exactly how skilled he is in that department…and I suspect what we shared is just the frantic tip of the iceberg.