Three months later

“Christ, Selena. You’re insatiable.” Breathing heavily, Mateo fell onto the bed, his magnificent cock still hard and glistening. This view of her man was one she’d never grow tired of.

“What can I say?” she said, grinning playfully and licking her lips. “You’ve turned me into a monster, and I can’t get enough of you.”

His laughter, deep and hearty, shook the entire bed. “I’d heard a changeling’s appetite was big at first. Didn’t realize it also meant this.”

She lifted a brow and put her hands on her hips. “What are you complaining for? I thought vampires had much higher sex drives than humans. Afraid you can’t keep up?”

Something naughty gleamed in his eye as he propped himself up on one elbow. “Did the future Mrs. Carrera just issue me a challenge?”

“I think Mr. Carrera is scared.”

He narrowed his eyes. “No one calls me scared and gets away with it. Care to take it back?”

That was what she’d been hoping for.

“No.” She spun, bolted out the bedroom door, and sprinted down the hallway buck naked. It was times like these that made her thankful they had moved her father into the carriage house instead of the mansion.

The attack from the Darkblood female had almost killed her, but Mateo had conquered his fear of being unable to control his dark nature and rushed her back to the mansion. They’d tried to revive her, but even with Brenna’s medical training, Selena had lost too much blood.

She didn’t remember much about that night, thank goodness, but she did remember one thing: Mateo bent over her, tears streaming down his face as he wrestled with the decision of whether or not to try turning her. It was a risky proposition at best. He’d told her later that her lips had been turning blue when she’d whispered for him to do it.

She let out a little squeal as footsteps pounded on the floor behind her. She ran down the back stairway and into the kitchen, where a lemon cake was cooling on the counter. She’d been testing and perfecting various food items to be included on the resort’s menu when the place opened for business next month. When they’d moved her father out of his house, Mateo was the one who’d found her mother’s original recipe lodged behind an old cookbook. Both she and her father had been ecstatic.

“You saved my daughter and found this recipe?” Tears had welled up in her father’s eyes as he’d pulled Mateo into a warm, fatherly embrace.

He’d been horrified to learn that his lady friend was a vampire and had nearly killed Selena, but he was so grateful to Mateo, Brenna and the other Guardians for their role in saving her. After getting clearance from the Council not to wipe his memory, Mateo had asked him if he’d be the resort’s head of maintenance and operations, and her father had gladly accepted.

Just as Selena reached the door on the other side of the kitchen, Mateo’s strong arms circled her waist and she shrieked.

“You think you’re fast,” he growled from behind, “but I am faster.”

Before she knew what was happening, he threw her over his shoulder and headed back the way they had come.

“Oh no you don’t,” she laughed, struggling against him.

He hesitated. “So you want me to have my way with you right here?”

She looked around. “In the kitchen? Oh my God, Mateo, no!”

There was that gleam in his eye, challenging her to defy him again. “Guess you should’ve thought about that before you led me here on your little chase.”

His dominant, aggressive nature was intoxicating, and she couldn’t help but test those boundaries. After all, she’d made testing and perfecting her business.

Setting her on the edge of the counter, he pushed her knees apart, exposing her sex to him. “Christ, Selena. Every inch of you is gorgeous.” His mouth was hot against her and she cried out, fingers latching onto his hair as he kissed and licked and sucked her. Her release came hard and fast. The man definitely knew what he was doing.

She was still panting, her inner muscles still spasming, when he withdrew and rose to his full height. Fangs out, he growled possessively. “You’re mine, and if you run again, I’ll catch you.”

Good. She was counting on it.

Then he lifted her onto his shaft. “This isn’t going to be slow.”

And he was right. Just three hard thrusts had her shattering around him. He pulled her hair, exposing the curve of her neck. With his cock pulsing inside her, his mouth came down hard, and she felt the delicious sting of his bite. This incredible sensation would never grow old, she thought as she held his head in place, stroking his back while he drank.

When he was done, he drew away from her and sealed the marks with a gentle stroke of his tongue. “When we were apart, I felt lost, as if someone had pulled a thread and unraveled my soul. But then you untangled the knots and put me back together. I love you, Selena.”

Her heart swelled, feeling as if it would burst from happiness. “And I love you, Mateo.”

He’d saved her life more than once. First by leaving her, then by returning and fighting the darkness that had driven him away. Her man was fearsome and powerful, and she couldn’t wait to spend forever with him.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed Mateo and Selena’s story!

Have you read , the first book in the Sweetblood World yet? It stars Mateo’s friend Andre.

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Excerpt from ENTICED BY BLOOD:

Juliette Bishop wished she could turn around and go home. Although New Orleans was a beautiful city, it was the last place on earth she wanted to be.

She stepped through the wrought iron gates of the restaurant courtyard, where twisted branches from several trees formed a canopy overhead. If her hands weren’t full, she’d brush a wisp of hair out of her eyes. She tried blowing it away, but the strand clung stubbornly to her damp skin.

After her flight, she’d had just enough time to shower at the hotel, change and take a taxi to the French Quarter. Little good that did, because the back of her silk tank felt as if it were already covered in sweat. The locals were probably used to this humidity, but by San Francisco standards, it was almost unbearable.

She glanced around. Only a few tables in the courtyard between the two buildings were occupied. Maybe there were more people inside.

With a heavy portfolio in one hand and a handbag in the other, she headed toward the hostess station. The brick footing was uneven, so she had to walk on her tiptoes to avoid catching a heel.

“Welcome,” said a young woman with sleek black hair. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”

Nodding, Juliette set her things on a nearby chair, relieved to be rid of the weight for a moment. “I’m meeting someone, but I’m a little early. I doubt he’s here yet.”

She pictured herself sitting inside an air-conditioned bar for fifteen or twenty minutes, sipping a tall cool drink. One with an umbrella and lots of ice. That would give her time to cool down and collect her thoughts.

Under her breath, she cursed her father’s alcoholic business partner for putting her in this situation. If it hadn’t been for Henry’s drinking problem, she wouldn’t be here right now, taking time off from her job at the brokerage firm, trying to salvage her father’s biggest customer—her former lover. A man she despised.

She’d met Andre Lescarbeau last New Year’s Eve in San Francisco. Fueled by one too many peach bellinis and his delicious French accent, she soon found herself in his hotel suite having the best sex of her life. He was dominant and demanding, and although she considered herself a strong, confident woman, she’d willingly submitted to him.

He wouldn’t let her take any time off from work, insisting that he had important business matters to attend to during the day. But every evening like clockwork, when she stepped out of her building on Market Street, there he was, waiting for her at the curb in his vintage Aston Martin convertible. How he managed the parking mojo night after night was beyond her.

Andre had asked about her family, so she told him what her father did and all the awards his vintage woodworking company had won, including the articles in Architectural Digest, Traditional Home, and Southern Living. Unbeknownst to her, Andre later contacted her father to do some work for him. He’d inherited a string of old boutique hotels in the South—New Orleans, Mobile, Savannah, Charleston—and was planning to renovate all of them one-by-one.

But one night, without warning, Andre wasn’t waiting for her. She tried reaching him, but he didn’t answer her calls or texts. Worried that something bad had happened to him, she finally went to his hotel, where someone at the front desk remembered he’d left for the airport at dusk with a beautiful young woman in tow. His wife.

It felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. She’d been having sex with a married man. Had actually been falling for him. No wonder he’d been so secretive, sharing little about his personal life. She wasted no time erasing his name from her contacts and vowed never to be so gullible or naive again.

But here she was, less than a year later, getting ready to meet with him.

She had to forget their past. Shove it behind her and do what she needed to do—convince Andre not to cancel his contract. A contract big enough that it would secure her father’s retirement.

If her father hadn’t taken ill, he’d have flown down and handled things himself, so when he asked her to take his place and smooth things over, what could she say? Tell him to send his alcoholic business partner? Or that she couldn’t because she’d banged the customer, a married man who had lied to her?

So she’d sucked up her pride said yes.

“Let me check for you,” the hostess said, jerking Juliette’s thoughts back to the present. “What is the name on the reservation?”

Juliette lifted her hair, hoping a cool breeze would be kind enough to find its way to the back of her neck, but the air was stagnant. “Andre Lescarbeau.”

The woman looked up without consulting the book. “Mr. Lescarbeau?”

“You know him?” Juliette asked. He must come here a lot.

“He owns Cafe Sur La Rue. Would you like to wait in the bar for him? I’ll have Jeffrey grab your things.”

He owns this place?

Juliette glanced around again. Tiny lights were strung in the overhead branches of the courtyard and twinkled against the dark sky. The wrought iron gates and railings were exquisitely ornate. The atmosphere was dripping with Old World charm. Just like Andre.

Had he chosen his restaurant because he wanted to seduce her again on his turf? Well, she was smarter now. And much more informed. She wouldn’t sleep with him again if he were the last human male on the planet.

“Yes. That would be—”

“Juliette.”

The sound slid down her spine like melted chocolate. She’d told herself she wouldn’t let him affect her like this.

Remember. He’s married. You’re only here because Dad asked you.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him and her heart nearly stopped. Although she hadn’t forgotten how hot he was, time had a way of blurring the specifics.

His dark hair was tousled and he had a slight scruff on his jaw, making him look as if he’d just rolled out of bed. He wore a Mad Men inspired light gray suit, impeccably tailored to accentuate his broad, powerful shoulders and narrow waist. With no tie and camel-colored Italian shoes, he had an air of casual elegance. A man like him would be equally at home dining in the fanciest hotels or walking between rows of grapevines in a vineyard.

“Andre,” she said, curtly, trying to ignore the urge to offer him her hand.

She didn’t want to make any physical contact with him. There’d been something strangely magical about his touch, so she needed to avoid it at all costs.

She cleared her throat. “Will your wife be joining us?”

* * *

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