Preacher:Sons of Sangue

By: Patricia A. Rasey

Refraining from doing the horizontal tango the last few months wasn’t helping matters, self-gratification aside. Having Tena this close had him wanting to eat up the distance and haul her ass caveman-style to the bed waiting beyond the door, never mind the room looked as if a tornado had struck. Bobby, a self-professed bachelor most of his life, didn’t worry much about impressions. Had he known he was getting company, though, he might have bothered to clean up a bit.

Barefoot and dressed in a pair low-slung jeans and wife beater, Bobby supposed he came across as a bit of a slob. Not that he normally cared what anyone thought. At least, he had bothered to put on a shirt, what there was of it anyway. Probably more for Ivy’s sake.

Tena, on the other hand, looked damn fine. The white, silk slip-over she wore did little to hide the navy bra beneath. On the bottom, she wore a pair of dark jeans rolled at her ankles. The low-rise of them gave him a small glimpse of the smooth, pale flesh beneath. He salivated and his gums began to ache. His gaze heated, the beast lurking relatively close to the surface.

As if he needed a reminder to keep those emotions in check.

Chad cleared his throat, gaining Bobby’s attention. “Are there any coffee shops in this town?”

Bobby pointed to the left of the door. “Down the street to the corner. Turn left and there’s a little cafe in the middle of the block that makes great coffee.”

“Iced lattes?”

“If that’s your thing.”

“Anything good you might recommend?”

“I wouldn’t know. I like my coffee black.”

“You would.” Chad rolled his eyes, then turned to Tena. “You want anything, girlfriend?”

“A tall, iced caramel latte would be great.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy,” he said as he jumped to his feet. The pip-squeak sent him another glare. Bobby supposed he deserved it. After all, the two had driven the length of the continent to see him. Trouble was, Bobby hadn’t asked them to. “Don’t think about laying a hand on her.”

Oh, he already thought about it, but it wasn’t Bobby’s hand Chad needed to worry about.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Chad walked out the door, the screen door slapping loudly behind him. Bobby had Tena completely to himself, since Ivy had left shortly following breakfast and had yet to return. Bobby opted for a wooden kitchen chair, keeping much-needed distance between them.

At this point, he wasn’t sure a cold shower would even do the trick.

Or a quick dip into the Atlantic.

Either way, he needed to do something fast before he lost his damn marbles and carried Tena to his unmade queen-size bed like his cock demanded. There would be no hiding his vampire self as desire took over common sense. Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite mastered the art of hypnotism, the vampires’ art of shadowing the memories of humans from having witnessed fangs and facial oddities. Allowing Tena to see said vampirism was against rules set in place by the Sons of Sangue to keep vampires safe from those who might otherwise wish to see them eliminated. Rules he’d now abide by, since he left the Devils MC to join up with the Sons.

Tena stood, drawing his attention to the base of her throat, the lovely pulse point beating there. He could hear the sound of her blood rushing through her veins. But it wasn’t only the call of her blood that had him bothered. Hell no, he could scent her desire. Dear Lord, he needed a will of iron. She closed the distance and boldly straddled his lap.

“You can’t fool me, Bobby Bourassa.” She gripped the front of his tank and leaned in. Her breath feathered over the shell of his ear. “Act the tough guy all you want, but I think you’re more than glad to see me.”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph and all that he held holy.

He was going to hell.

Chapter 2

“If the front of your jeans is any indication—”

Bobby gripped her beneath her armpits, stopping her in mid-sentence, and easily lifted her from his lap. Tena was no lightweight, so she was a bit surprised with the ease in which he had handled her.

“Let’s get something straight, Tena,”—Bobby set her on her feet, stood, and backed away—“one night and you’re back on the road. This attraction, this thing, it isn’t going to happen.”

“Why?” She wet her lips, drawing his deep blue gaze. Funny, they looked a shade or two darker than a moment ago. “We’re two consenting adults. No one will judge us.”

“It’s not their judgment I’m worried about.”

“Seriously?” Tena knew about his past as a minister, but he had left that behind and joined an outlaw motorcycle club. Surely, he had committed far worse sins. “Are you telling me you practice abstinence?”

Which would be a damn shame. His sculpted arms would make a Greek statute weep from the injustice, for crying out loud. Not to mention the pecs and abs he tried unsuccessfully to hide beneath his white tank. The man had a drool-worthy body, one meant to be touched. And oh, she wanted to in the worst way. He had twin crosses on his deltoids, making her want to explore the rest of his naked flesh for more, preferably with her tongue.