Dawn Awakening

"It's not quite the same is it," Patrick said, working his fingers higher to stroke the lacy edge of her panties. Her back arched and her hips tipped up to meet the brush of his fingertips. Her lips parted, the tip of her pink tongue slicking over them leaving them glistening with moisture. It was hard to let go of one instinct and do what came naturally while grappling so hard to rein in another.

He ached for her with every fiber of his being. His cock throbbed, bucking in his shorts to get to that sweet spot deep within her. Not convinced that he could control all of his hunger, he was determined to suffer for as long as it took to make sure she was safe from him. He'd have to feel bad. Forever if that's what it took to build his confidence. In the mean time, he'd be content to make her feel good.

"How the hell do you know?" Janine squeaked out in question. He had no idea, or did he? After all, she could feel the hardness of his erection poking her in the hip. If doing without had her a bundle of jumbled up nerves and frazzled emotions, what was it doing to him? His fingers danced along the button of her shorts and popped it free, coaxing the zipper and the shorts down over her hips. Damn, her body's reaction to him. Flexing, she lifted her butt to help him work her thighs free of the unwanted barrier between his fingers and that place where she so desperately wanted them.

Patrick tossed the shorts over his shoulder and stared down at perhaps, one of the most beautiful, glorious sights he'd ever seen. A lacy triangle of fabric was all that separated him from Janine's soft, sleek opening. His cock wept at the sight and scent of her, barely covered and spread open for him. Going for broke and much against his better judgment, he worked her blouse up along her ribcage with his thumbs. Luckily, she wasn't wearing a bra to get in the way of things. Just before he tossed the blouse to join the shorts in a heap on the floor, he pinned her with a look. Pausing before he claimed one rosy nipple with his lips, he said in a voice gravely and thick with desire, "Believe me, I know."

Janine whimpered in sheer agony from the seductive brush of Patrick's lips against the sensitive peak of her breast. It had been far too long, so many painful hours of waiting, spent fantasizing about this exact moment. That she felt as if she would burst at the slightest touch of his fingers anywhere on her body. Running a hand down over the hard plane of his abdomen, she wanted to do a little exploring too. Feel that hard ridge pressed against her hip with the tips of her fingers and stroke him until he was at the boiling point along with her.

Patrick's body tensed and hips jerked at the slightest application of pressure from Janine's fingers along the hard jut of his erection. The warmth of her skin and the satiny smoothness of his shorts, gliding along the aching, maddeningly throbbing length of his flesh had him practically mindless with the need to fuck her, right here, right now, and to hell with the consequences. His fangs pulsed in time with the heady throb of his cock, tingling with need and another kind of hunger.

He could not risk her. Not for one second. Her life was not his to play with. And he would not take a chance that he'd come back fully to himself to find her dead in his arms, killed by his own hand. Not happening. Pinning her beneath the weight of his body, her wrists trapped in his grip, he continued his feast on her breasts, her mouth, and all that tender, sensitive, quivering flesh. This wasn't about him, his body, or the hunter trapped inside that hungered for her blood the way his cock hungered for release. This was about her, showing her how much he loved her, and how hard he was trying to be everything she needed.

Janine panted, dizzied by passion beneath the assault of Patrick's mouth on her breasts, his lips on her mouth, and the fingers of his free hand, working lower and lower down her body. The weight of him was delicious, pressing her into the mattress, making it hard for her to work her hips against his erection. She protested for about...oh, five seconds, to his hard grip on her wrists, thrusting them over her head to still them from their wandering down the length of his body.

Patrick was afraid of her...for her...of what he might do by accident...to her. She'd promised to give him time. To try. And slowly, they were making progress. Finally. She wasn't complaining in the least about that. The boy knew what to do with his hands, his fingers, and oh, hell yeah, that mouth and tongue of his. For now, this was enough. Him risking everything and holding everything he wanted back, just to touch her. Gritting his teeth against his own desire, to make her feel so loved and cherished. Guiltily she indulged, granting him and herself this small concession. This one, teensy victory, when there were so many battles left, for the both of them, to overcome.

Patrick relaxed his grips on Janine's wrists once he was sure she got the message. No touching. His boundaries, however temporary they were, clear. Edging some of his weight off of her, he continued a path straight for the sweet haven, hidden by a scrap of lace, between her thighs. Pinned down by his bulk, she couldn't move and he liked the way her hips arched for him at the promise of his touch. The sound of her sighs, labored and thick with pleasure were like strokes of velvet along his skin.

Carefully, he inched her panties out of his way and plunged a finger into her depths. Her body bucked, hips lifting off the bed in eagerness to meet his strokes. She was hot, slick, and wet with passion for him. And he could drown in the depths of all that fragrant sleekness and die a happy man. Janine was tight. Gently, he stretched her, filling her with another finger, stroking them in and out with the rhythm of her moans and thrusts of her hips. He was no expert by any means. But, she liked what he was doing. And he liked pushing her so close, only to slow his strokes, bringing her back, to moan and writhe in anticipation for the moment when he'd finally let her slip over the edge.

Janine fisted the sheets, yanking them in a fall of cotton around her. She wanted to touch him so badly it hurt almost as much as the orgasm he kept denying her. His breath was hot on her sensitized skin. His mouth worked her nipples, lips suckling, teeth barely grazing the tips until they were hard points of aching flesh. Her body needed this. Needed his mouth, his hands, his fingers working their magic on every nerve ending, stroking and coaxing them into a burning, hot rush of flame.

Flicking his thumb over the swollen, so tender, and throbbing apex of her sex, his fingers plunging into her wetness, she quivered and bucked against him. She was close, too close, if he didn't finish this, he wouldn't have to worry about accidentally killing her. She'd burst into spontaneous combustion right here on the spot. In a throaty cry that might as well have been a foreign language for how unfamiliar it sounded on her tongue, she begged, "Please, Patrick Please!"

Panting and quivering, covered in a fine sheen of sweat from the effort of holding back. His groin ached, heavy with need, so painful the brush of his shorts and her hip against his erection hurt. Yet so worth it, watching her writhe, hearing her beg and cry his name, he stoked her sex hard and fast. Flicking his thumb against the mound of sensitive flesh at the apex, his fingers wet with the sweet nectar of her orgasm, he let her shatter into a million pieces and then quickly sent her there again.

His earthbound angel of the sun was free to fly and float above the clouds, if only for a few brief minutes. Gently, he gathered a grinning and totally, limp as a dishrag, Janine in his arms, holding her to his chest while the last bliss of her orgasm lingered in her system. He'd always wondered what waited on the other side of the gates of heaven. Taking one look at her, he knew, he'd already seen it in her eyes.

Janine snuggled against Patrick's bare chest, completely blissed out and so relaxed. Ok, so her toy could not compare to the things he did with his hands. For the moment, she was content enough with this tiny slice of heaven. Thirsting for her in every way possible. Sucking in a labored breath just from the simplest brush of her fingers over his heart. He was sweaty and trembling, hovering so close to his own edge. One he was terrified to tumble over. She felt loved in a way she'd never dreamed of. He sacrificed so much, just for her. His warmth permeated every pore of her body. It had nothing to do with the physicality of the act. And everything to do with the man, who in protecting her from his worst fears, fervently denied himself the only thing that might have the power to set him free.























Chapter 34

Robbie held a pillow tightly over her eyes as John Mark arranged blankets over her bedroom windows to block out the light. The beauty of the dawn was quickly converted into agony. The garish daylight assaulted her new vision, blinding her with colors that she hadn't known existed. The relentless sunlight bore through her retinas, frying them like an egg in a skillet. "Hurry."

"You'll get used to it," he reassured, prying Robbie's hands free the pillow she clutched against her face to block out the light. "Look, it's dark." Slowly, she inched her lids open, blinking at him against the darkness and smiling in relief. Seeing his Robbie like this, with fangs and pale skin, was going to take a little getting used to. For the both of them, he imagined.

John Mark slid into the bed beside her. Stretching out his long legs and grinning at the sound of the joints in his big toes cracking as he flexed his feet. He had been spending every waking moment with her for days. Surely, he must be neglecting something to be here. "Don't you have anything better to do? A job?"

"You are my job," he replied. "Besides, you can't get rid of me that easily. What kind of Son would I be if I left a newborn vampire to her own devices loosed on the world of mere helpless mortals?" He slid an arm around Robbie's shoulders and adjusted the pillows under his head. Newborns thought they knew everything. She hadn't begun to realize how much she would need him in the upcoming days.

Robbie nudged John Mark's ribs with an elbow, wincing at his sudden grunt of pain and the sound of things popping beneath his skin. She was going to have to be more careful with him. He was just so damned fragile. "Babysitting again," she replied defensively.

"Hmm, I'm not a babysitter, I'm a guide. I made you. Therefore, I am responsible for you." John Mark snuggled in closer, determined to salvage the feeling of rightness in the world they'd shared just as the sun broke through the trees.

He was linked to her mind. And she to his, if she ever settled down long enough to listen. The both of them linked to the brothers in a never-ending circle of thoughts propelling themselves back and forth through the link. If he tried he could shut them out completely or he could hone in on a singular voice in his head. Above all the voices sharing space in his mental vault, Robbie's was the loudest.

The woman was a storm of confusion and random thoughts. She wanted him. She didn't want him. She didn't want to want him. Damn. This wasn't rocket science. Why couldn't she just relax and enjoy each moment for what it was?

"I suppose I am stuck with you for all eternity now?" Robbie tried to sound harsh and bitter, but she couldn't help but feel a little enamored by his chivalrous intentions. One of these days, soon very soon, she was going to get this vampire thing down and she'd be able to stand on her own two feet.

"Yup," John Mark replied, trying for a joking tone to his voice to lighten the mood. "Its not so bad is it?" He nuzzled into the base of her neck and inhaled the scent of her skin. Sweet, like his. "Admit it, you love me."

The tickle of his breath on her neck sent jolts of electricity down her spine. Reluctantly, she fed into his ego, "Yeah, I do. But, don't get to comfy in my bed. This is a temporary arrangement. You know, in the interest of the town's safety in all that." The fact that Robbie had to rely on John Mark irked her. Sure she loved him. But, she wanted to be on equal terms with him in their relationship. She hated having all these new sensations and these new abilities, and not knowing what to do with them, how to control them. She felt like a little kid, maybe, even an infant, just learning to live.

"Hey, I'll take what I can get," John Mark replied, seductively nipping along the skin of her collarbones. He had dreamed of her every night since the seventh grade. His instincts, that damned hunter in his head, usually so thirsty for blood, roared for something gentler, far more elemental, and just as necessary as his need to feed. Now was not the time for that. She was too new, too familiar, and too overwhelmed by even the simplest things. He was all about taking what he could get, but not at the risk of manipulating her. She was too vulnerable. Once she adjusted, he'd pull out all the stops and stoke up the charm like a blazing furnace. Until then, he was content enough to hear her admit what they both knew. She loved him and it was enough.

Robbie raised her chin, granting John Mark better access to her neck. Scooting closer, she melted into his body. The light tickle of the ends of his hair brushing across her skin sent the most amazing sensations down the length of her body. The weight of him, gently pressed against her was dizzying and had her aching for more. Arching into him, she ran her fingertips over his smooth, angular cheekbones. No man had ever affected her this way before, made her want with such crazy need. Yes, that was the right word. Need, like air, she needed him. "Please," she breathed against his lips.

He kissed Robbie slowly and tenderly on the lips, sucking her words into his mouth and swallowing them down. Good intentions be damned. He wanted this woman. Now. Used to denying himself and ignoring the storm of temptation that surrounded every waking moment of his life. He eased out of her arms. Soon, he promised the hunter in his head. Soon. "You've had a rough night. Vampires still need to sleep." Gently, he kissed her eyelids closed, feeling the flutter of her lashes against his lips. He needed a diversion away from the thoughts in his head, and the thoughts in hers. Which went straight to his groin and had Mr. Happy kicking like a Rockette in his jeans. "I thought after sundown, we could go to the shop for a bit."

She hadn't thought about the shop much over the last couple of days. She wondered how Corrine was holding up. The season was drawing to an end. Soon it would be time to close down. Keeping the shop open through the winter months had proven to be a waste of time. Losses outweighed the profit. People in small towns weren't too hungry for ice cream with wind chills of twenty below. "That sounds good," Robbie yawned, drifting off to sleep.

That evening Robbie awoke with a moan. The bed beside her was empty and cold. John Mark had been awake for a while. For a minute, she felt normal, as if last night had been a dream. Reality hit her hard, with an iron fist around her throat, dry and parched as the desert. Deep, hushed voices filtered in from the kitchen. Sniffing the air she deducted that one of the scents was the familiar scent of John Mark. The other one, she didn't recognize. But, it was definitely human. The hunter, or whatever John Mark called it, roared within her hungry and slavering like a beast after the scent of blood. On a predator's feet, she moved silently into the kitchen to investigate the heavenly aroma.

"Hi Robbie, Mack stopped by to see how you were doing?" John Mark said with forced cheerfulness. The sight of her, wide-eyed and moving with a preternatural predator's grace, lethal and on the hunt, wrenched his gut. The tip of her pink tongue slid over her lengthened fangs in eagerness. He had to pretend that everything was normal. Any sudden move might break whatever fragile control she had left. Casually, as if he were simply adjusting his stance, he spread his feet apart ready to step in, if she lost it.

Mack tipped his sheriff's hat in Robbie's direction. He'd forgotten, John Mark being the last, how lethal newborns looked. "Stopped by to see, ah, how your transition was going." The sudden movement of his hand to the butt of the gun holstered at his side caught her eye and had her pinning him with their green gaze.

Her fangs dropped as she eyed the permanently reddened flesh of his neck, glowing like embers beneath the stark white of the t-shirt under his standard police issue button down. His heartbeat thumped wildly in his chest like a caged bird. The whoosh of his blood through his veins roared in her ears. His scent, of gun oil, worn leather, sweat, and a hint of sweet cigar smoke, rolled off of him, calling to her. Robbie leaned on the balls of her feet, tensing, ready to lunge.

John Mark stepped in between Robbie and Mack, hastily shoving Mack toward the back door. The holster housing Mack's standard issue revolver was unsnapped, his hand resting on the butt of the gun, ready to draw. Wouldn't kill her. But, it was a lesson she wasn't ready for yet. She wasn't quite prepared to learn exactly how inhuman she was. "Well, Mack you better get going. Don't worry, I'll take care of her."

Mack fastened his holster and felt for the doorknob. He eyed Robbie warily, making a hasty retreat. "Sure. Good to see you again, Robbie." He tipped his chin to John Mark and eased out the backdoor, pausing on the deck. "John Mark, you'll let me know if you need anything?"

"Sure thing, Mack," John Mark answered, slamming the door in Mack's face. Coolly, he leaned against the door, arms crossed, face drawn in a deep, disapproving scowl. Robbie had been a bad vampire. Bad. She looked up at him, her attention bouncing between Mack's lingering scent and him, a sheepish expression on her face. "You can't be scaring people like that. He's a sheriff, not steak tartar."

"Sorry," Robbie replied, shrinking into herself a bit under the hard glare of John Mark's disapproving stare. Obviously, she wasn't very good at the whole vampire thing. "He just...and I'm just...,"

John Mark held up a hand cutting Robbie's apology short. "Yeah, I know. We'll hunt later, I promise. But, you've got to get yourself together first. C'mon. I'll show you what I mean." Gently, he took her arm, leading her to the bedroom. Parking her in front of the mirror on her dresser, he said, "Look."

Robbie stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. The image she saw was familiar, but unfamiliar at the same time. Gingerly, she reached out a finger and ran it over the sharp points of her fangs. No wonder she scared the shit out of the sheriff. She kind of scared the hell out of herself. Her eyes blazed a brilliant, bright green like emeralds in the sunlight, crazed and hungry in their expression. Being a redhead and hating the smattering of freckles and the red tones the sun brought out in her skin, she had always avoided sunbathing. She was used to being pale but, not this pale. Her skin was translucent and perfect in its pallor without hint of the blemishes that plagued her.

Robbie dropped her hand, startled by the speed of her movements in the mirror's reflective glass. She could hardly believe the changes, subtle, but present, enough to make her uncomfortable in her own skin. She was still recognizable, still her self, but so different. Perfect. "Oh my god."

John Mark slid up behind Robbie, resting his hands on her narrow shoulders. "You are still beautiful. But, you're going to have to learn to tone down the vamp vibe before we go out."