Free Read Novels Online Home

Professor Blood (Ironwrought Book 2) by Anna Wineheart (15)

Brandon

I just realized we haven’t even lived together,” Quinn said as he closed the hotel room door, locking it. “And now we’ll be stuck together for a few months, at least. You’re going to regret living with me.”

Brandon snorted. He kicked off his shoes, setting their bag of supplies on the desk. “I thought you might be the one regretting it. If we fuck too much and you can’t sit on your ass.”

Quinn’s eyes gleamed. “Really?”

“Regretting it yet?” Brandon smirked.

“Hell, no.” Quinn threw his shoe at Brandon, golden eyes glimmering. Brandon ducked. Then he strode over to where Quinn had bent over, checking out the mini fridge in the room. With his gaze, he followed the curve of Quinn’s body, the black pants hugging his hips. Quinn shivered when Brandon rubbed his ass. “I didn’t know hotel rooms came with fridges.”

“Gods, when were you last in a hotel room?”

“I can’t remember. Ten years ago?”

“Don’t you even travel?”

Quinn smacked his thigh. “I spent all my time in the lab, Brandon Remy. Don’t you dare judge me on my ways.”

“I’m totally judging you.”

“That figures.” Quinn rolled his eyes. “I can’t just be a normal vampire professor, can I?”

“If vampire professors are even normal.”

“Aren’t you glad you found a special unicorn?”

Laughing, Brandon wrapped his arms around Quinn’s waist, pulling him up for a kiss. Quinn met him with a smile, and Brandon slipped his tongue into his mouth, tasting faint blood.

Quinn’s fangs had subsided by now, his claws sliding back into ordinary nails. On the way out of the college, they’d dropped by an ATM, and Brandon had withdrawn his daily limit of cash. We’ll be watched by the feds now, Quinn had said. We won’t be leaving paper trails.

They’d caught a cab two miles from the college, and Quinn had kept out of the cab driver’s sight during the drive, Brandon’s hand clasped around his. On the way to a random hotel in Morro Bay, they’d grabbed a sewing kit, a first aid kit, and some clothes from a convenience store.

And here they were in a hotel, finally alone.

When they finally pulled apart, Quinn glanced at Brandon’s lip, kiss-swollen, the cuts still raw.

“Gonna help me stitch this up?” Brandon asked, nodding at his arm.

“Am I a medic, now?” But Quinn slipped his hand into Brandon’s pocket, right against his ass, and pulled the kit out. Then he winced. “I’m really sorry about your phone.”

“No worries,” Brandon said. “I had no important info on mine, anyway.”

Quinn smiled, warmth and disbelief in his eyes. “I can’t believe you’d do so much for me. I’m just... not very good at things. I haven’t even invented blood I can drink.”

“You can drink mine,” Brandon said. “I don’t mind. Besides, I don’t care about your achievements. Who you are is more important.”

Quinn smiled weakly. “I’m a vampire.”

“And I’m your student.”

Quinn pulled a face. “Not anymore, I guess. Are you still going to hunt for vampires?”

Brandon had thought about it through the cab ride. Because of his prejudices, he’d almost lost Quinn to the feds. Quinn still had a handful of vampire friends scattered through the country, but the average vampire was still a threat to civilians. Brandon had seen enough of them to know. “Not all of them are your friends.”

Quinn shook his head. “No. I guess... there are some I really can’t care less about.”

“Then we should invent a better method of killing them,” Brandon said. “You tell me which ones to avoid, and I’ll avoid them.”

Quinn bit his lip. “I almost feel bad, plotting with you like this.” But he thought about it for a minute, and said, “Although I don’t think humans deserve to be murdered, either.”

“Except agents.”

“Except agents,” Quinn agreed. “When they put either of us in danger.”

“So we’ll work together on this.” Brandon held his hand out.

Quinn shook it, his palm cool against Brandon’s. Then he wrinkled his face. “You really need a shower. I can’t stitch your wound up like this.”

“Get in the shower, then.”

“Are you ordering me around?” Quinn slapped Brandon’s ass, and Brandon grinned, following him into the bathroom.

He watched Quinn as they shed their clothes. With all the blood he’d had, Quinn’s skin looked pink, actually healthy. Brandon thought he looked better like that, when he wasn’t trying to drink chicken blood all the time.

“Something caught your eye?” Quinn smiled, wriggling his hips.

“You look better when you drink human blood.”

Quinn’s smile fell. “You know I’d rather not, Brandon.”

“But you’d drink mine.”

“I...” Quinn licked his lips, glancing at the cut on Brandon’s arm. “I could have killed you.”

“But that was when you were drugged. I think you’ll be good with control if you had practice,” Brandon said. “Have you ever tried?”

Quinn shook his head, but he hadn’t looked away from the wound.

“It’s like using a microscope,” Brandon said. “You practice until you get good with it.”

Quinn’s mouth fell open. He stared at Brandon, a smile growing on his lips. “Are you a teacher, now?”

“I learned from a good one.” Brandon grinned, catching Quinn’s hand. Then he dragged Quinn into the shower with him, and Quinn’s protests fell away.

It was the best shower Brandon had taken in a while.

* * *

Later, when they were both sprawled on the bed, Brandon’s elbow wound newly stitched, Quinn held up the leftover thread dangling from his handiwork.

“You aren’t going to yank on it, are you?” Brandon asked warily. Quinn didn’t have a pair of scissors.

Quinn smirked. “You’re a big, fierce hunter. I’m sure you’ll live.”

“Damn bastard!”

“Call me a bastard again, and I’ll pull your stitches out!”

Brandon reached over, slapping Quinn’s ass. Quinn pretended to frown. So Brandon kneaded his ass instead, faint pink rising on Quinn’s bare cheeks. He still couldn’t believe this was happening, him and Quinn naked on a hotel bed, as though they hadn’t been enemies in the past. As though the feds hadn’t captured Quinn three hours ago.

Inches away, Quinn was relaxed, his limbs loose, his gaze trusting. “You smacked me,” he said.

“You were going to undo your hard work.”

“I was about to trim the thread.” Quinn huffed, his pink lips scrunching up. Brandon wanted to kiss him again.

“Cut it how? With my knife?” The knife was in its holster, cleaned, and all the way across the room.

“No. Like this.” Quinn extended a nail. It sharpened into a claw, slicing the thread cleanly.

That, Brandon had never thought about. He’d never imagined vampires using their abilities in everyday things, even though he’d seen claws a hundred times before. “Have you done that in the lab?”

Quinn smiled sheepishly. “Sometimes. Like when the foils on the chemical bottles refuse to peel open.”

“You’re supposed to have better lab procedures than that.”

“I’m a vampire,” Quinn said. “Those things don’t affect me.”

Brandon rolled his eyes. Quinn set the first aid and sewing kits on the bedside table. Then he crawled back, straddling Brandon’s hips, his weight pressing cool against Brandon’s skin.

Brandon took the time to look him over: his skin pale, his legs splayed around Brandon’s sides, his mouth pulled up in a tiny smile.

“Like what you see?” Quinn asked, rolling his hips.

“Yeah,” Brandon said, grinning. He’d never thought they’d do this again. After the fight in the alley, after he’d almost lost Quinn, well. He felt grateful and lucky. He loved Quinn. He had Quinn sitting on him, and they’d bought a night’s rest in this hotel.

Quinn smiled warmly, studying Brandon’s face. He trailed his fingers across Brandon’s abs, smoothing up his midriff and his chest. Then he paused at the raw scratches over Brandon’s heart, his eyes narrowing.

Brandon remembered the vampire in the alley, the one that had turned into dust. “You said something about that earlier, back downtown. Blood... bond?”

Quinn swallowed. “Yeah, a blood bond. The vampire was about to force one with you. I... was furious.”

Brandon raised his eyebrows; he hadn’t realized Quinn had been angry with the other vampire. “Why?”

“It’s a permanent bond. With the addition of my blood, your blood will change slightly, so it’ll benefit me most. Other vampires won’t gain as much strength from it. It will also tie your lifespan to mine.”

Brandon hadn’t known about that. It sounded serious, like a marriage, maybe. A commitment his parents had shared before they died. Something else stirred in his memory. “You said, ‘He’s mine.’ And you meant it, didn’t you?”

Quinn’s cheeks darkened, but he held Brandon’s gaze. “Yes. I... hadn’t realized it at that point. I want you to myself, as awful as that sounds.”

“I’ll be yours,” Brandon said, warmth suffusing through his chest. Quinn wanted him. Sure, they hadn’t had this relationship long. They didn’t even know each other all that well. But Brandon trusted Quinn, and he figured they’d work through everything else. “It sounds good to me.”

Quinn’s face slowly lit up, like he was just starting to believe it.

“How do you do the bond?” Brandon asked.

“Mix blood from my wrist with blood from your chest,” Quinn murmured, turning his wrist to face them. “You’re sure about this.”

“Yeah.” Brandon took Quinn’s clawed finger, setting it on Quinn’s other wrist. “Make the cut.”

Slowly, Quinn slid his claw down, leaving a crimson line of blood. Then he extended another claw, hovering it above Brandon’s scar. “Should I reopen these?”

“Yeah,” Brandon said. “So I don’t forget what happened tonight.”

Quinn dug his claw into Brandon’s cuts. Pain prickled through his skin; his blood welled up in tiny droplets. Quinn held his breath, bracing his hand next to Brandon’s shoulder for leverage. “You’re really sure.”

Yes. Do I have to marry you before you’ll do it?”

Quinn cracked a smile, his eyes sparkling. “You’ll marry me?”

“Yeah,” Brandon said. Because all this wasn’t insane enough. “I love you. I need you to know that.”

Red tinting his cheeks, Quinn brushed his wrist over Brandon’s chest, smearing their wounds together. Quinn’s blood seeped into Brandon’s cuts, tingled through his body like a slow fire burning down his nerves. His breath punched out of his lungs; his cock twitched.

“The hell,” Brandon said, breathless.

“It tends to have that effect, I’ve heard,” Quinn murmured, banked heat in his eyes. “And I’d love to have you, Brandon. Make you mine.”

A thrill shot down Brandon’s spine. “You’re gonna fuck me?”

“Remember this?” Quinn curled the fingers on his hand, until only his middle finger pointed at Brandon. “We talked about this inside you.”

Brandon licked his lips, his blood rushing south. “I remember. Now?”

Quinn smiled hesitantly, leaning in to brush their lips together. His breath feathered over Brandon’s cheek. “You’ll have me inside?”

“I’ll have you wherever you want to be,” Brandon said, kissing him deeply. Quinn purred against his lips, his hands cupping Brandon’s cheeks, holding him close. “And if you want to drink my blood, go ahead.”

Quinn stilled, pulling back by an inch, peering into his eyes. “I still can’t quite believe it. You don’t mind?”

Brandon nuzzled his cheek. “I’m still not good with bites yet. But cuts are okay. You can drink from those.”

Tears welled up in Quinn’s eyes. He laughed softly, then leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “You might regret this. I don’t think you know how delicious your blood is.”

“You don’t want to take too much,” Brandon said, stroking his palm down Quinn’s spine. “Or I won’t get hard enough to fuck you.”

Quinn chuckled, his eyes bright. “Gods, I love you.”

“Love you too.” Brandon wound his fingers through Quinn’s hair, pulling him close. He hadn’t thought any of this would happen—falling in love with a vampire, being a vampire’s bonded prey.

At the back of his mind, he thought about his parents. They weren’t here now, and he still didn’t know if they’d approve of this. But he’d seen Quinn for who he was, he loved Quinn and his pet rocks and his stubborn principles, and he hoped that his parents would be happy he’d found this man.

Quinn kissed him, grinding down on his hips. Brandon growled, rocking back, Quinn’s heavy cock sliding over his own. Pleasure whispered through his body.

Then Quinn eased between Brandon’s legs, his gaze raking hot over Brandon’s chest. Brandon spread for him. It was the first time he’d spread for a vampire, and he relaxed, allowed himself to be vulnerable. Quinn brushed his palm over Brandon’s cock, his balls, and gently touched his hole with a fingertip. Brandon shivered.

“You’re sure about this,” Quinn said softly, smiling.

“Yeah. The lube’s still in the bag,” Brandon said. Quinn slipped away. When he returned with the bottle, his finger gleamed. He massaged Brandon’s hole, slid his finger in, and Brandon marveled at this, a vampire touching him inside.

He trusted Quinn, trusted Quinn when Quinn hooked his finger, and a jolt of pleasure skimmed through his body.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Don’t forget to say thanks,” Quinn murmured, his eyes glinting.

“Thanks,” Brandon said, rolling his hips. Quinn’s gaze fell to his cock. He leaned in, kissing up Brandon’s abs, up his chest, to his lips. Brandon trailed his fingers down the smooth planes of Quinn’s shoulders, felt the firm skin and sinewy muscle of his body, healthy now with Brandon’s blood.

They were bonded. This was his vampire.

No matter where they went after this, Brandon would be fine. He had found his home—Quinn was his home—and he wasn’t letting go.