Or maybe she was the one who was curious. She knew she shouldn’t be. But hadn’t she wondered what it would be like to be wanted with the intensity that Jacks seemed to want things?
His mouth curved wider as his hands moved from her throat to her shoulders and slowly slid the cape away, leaving more of her skin exposed.
“You should go back on the other side of the gate.” Her voice was hoarse.
“You’re the one who said I needed a distraction.” His fingers drifted lower, trailing down her chest to the sensitive stretch of skin right above the lacy line of her corset. “Isn’t this better than talking?” One finger dipped all the way into the corset.
Her breathing hitched. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“That’s what makes it interesting.” His other hand found her jaw, while the finger in her corset gently stroked just above her heart, coaxing it to beat even faster.
“You can always pick up the blade,” he taunted. “You wouldn’t like me as a vampire, Little Fox.”
The warm hand at her jaw tilted her head back until she met his eyes. They were dilated to nearly full black and somehow still as bright as broken stars.
She needed to back away. This was wrong for so many reasons, and worse than that, it was incredibly stupid to let him keep touching her, to like the way he kept touching her.
He wouldn’t even be doing this if it weren’t for the vampire venom.
It didn’t matter that he was being gentle, that his knuckles were barely brushing her skin as they skimmed their way from her chest to the back of her neck, while his other hand traveled to her hip, slowly gliding over her skirts as he eased her closer. The crypt was freezing, but Jacks was warm enough to heat every inch of Evangeline as the hand at her neck slid into her hair, twisting his fingers around the strands before shoving them away from her neck and—
His teeth grazed her pulse.
“Jacks—” It was suddenly impossible to form words. His hot mouth was against her throat, and his teeth were on her skin. His teeth! Evangeline finally pressed against his chest. But it was as useless as trying to battle a block of marble. Hot, sculpted marble. She wanted to tell him not to bite her, but saying the word bite didn’t seem like the wisest idea just then. “You won’t want this later…”
“Not really thinking about later.” He licked her, one languorous stroke up the column of her neck.
She gasped, “You don’t even like me.”
“I like you right now. I like you a lot.” He gently sucked her skin. “In fact, I can’t think of anything I like more.”
“Jacks—this is all from the vampire venom.” She pressed harder against his chest, frantic, but he didn’t seem to notice. His tongue was on her neck, toying with her pulse. “You—” Her words faltered as his teeth grazed her again, raking over all her sensitized skin in a way that should not have felt so incredibly good.
She had to stop this. One bite. One spilled drop of blood and they’d both be in trouble. “If you do this … you’ll never see the sun again. Won’t you miss the sun?”
His only response was another tortuous lick, and then his other hand was tightening around her hips, pulling her closer as if preparing to—
“You need me to open the Valory Arch!”
Jacks stilled at her words.
His breath went jagged as his lips hovered over her pulse. He didn’t bite her. But he didn’t release her. If anything, he held her tighter. He was burning up against her. She tried to calm her breathing, certain he could feel her racing heartbeat and hear the blood rushing in her veins beneath his parted mouth. But he didn’t lower his lips.
He didn’t move except to breathe in and out.
She didn’t know how long they stood there, wrapped in an embrace that she couldn’t fight and that Jacks couldn’t seem to let go of. There were moments he struggled. He tangled her hair in his fingers, their cold tips brushing her scalp—
Cold. His palm was cold.
Evangeline dared to look up as morning sunlight crept through the mausoleum window. They’d survived the night.
Jacks’s arms tensed as if he’d just had the same realization.
Everything that had burned suddenly felt like ice. His chest, his arms, his breath upon her neck.
He extricated himself from her slowly with stiff, ungraceful movements. He was once again the Jacks who’d carried her to LaLa’s flat. The heat, the want, the hunger, all of it had vanished with the night. His hands were awkward as he untangled his fingers from her hair. It was eerily reminiscent of when Apollo had been freed from Jacks’s magic. Only Jacks wasn’t angry, just exquisitely uncomfortable.