He hadn’t used mind control in a while, and it hadn’t even occurred to him to use it on Delilah, though he wanted to make absolutely sure to have sex with her tonight. Using mind control would have ensured him that.
But her response to his touch had given him absolute certainty of the fact that he didn’t need to use his vampire skills on her.
“We should go back to our seats. We don’t want to miss the second act.”
“No, we wouldn’t want to miss anything.” The husky tone in her voice told him she wasn’t talking about the play. Samson felt his pants tighten instantly. This was not the time to have another erection, but alas, he had no control over it. Better to hide in the dark of the theater.
He looked at her from the side as they quietly watched the second act. He wanted her so much, it was painful to wait. In the dark, he reached for her hand and found her willingly accepting his touch. He needed more. It was stupid to feel like a schoolboy, fumbling in the dark, but he couldn’t help himself. Hesitantly he guided her hand to his thigh where he left it. Would she pull it back?
He couldn’t follow the action on the stage when there was a much more exciting mystery unraveling right next to him. As he let go of her hand, his body was tense. It was the moment where she was free to pull her hand away, or to leave it where it was, burning through the fabric of his pants, sending shockwaves of heat through his body.
Delilah did neither—her hand didn’t pull away, but it didn’t stay where he’d placed it either. Instead, her hand gently moved along his thigh, up and down, stroking him, moving higher up now. Damn, she was killing him! His hard-on was straining against his pants, and he had no way of shifting in the tight space to make himself more comfortable.
Her warm hand moved up to the apex of his thighs. He was almost ready to come right there and then—when would this damn play be over? Samson held his breath until he noticed her look at him. She chuckled silently. What was so funny?
Delilah leaned into him, and he felt her mouth close to his ear.
“You shouldn’t play with fire if you can’t take the heat.”
Bloody hell, she was playing him like a fiddle, turning him into putty in her hands. And she knew it all too well. He’d always thought of himself as being the predator, but she’d turned the game around, switching into his customary role. He couldn’t wait to turn the tables on her later.
“Payback’s a bitch.” And he would thoroughly enjoy it.
“Shh!” a voice from behind reprimanded him.
Samson took hold of her hand again, stopping her from caressing him any further, but still keeping it on his thigh. He could handle that—just about. He hadn’t had this much fun with a woman since he’d been a teenager and human. As a vampire, everything to do with sex had been hot and heavy without real fun and games. Well, this was hot and heavy too, but at the same time he could sense the humor in it all. He wondered whether she could awaken his lighter side and make him feel carefree and relaxed again.
He couldn’t remember when he had last joked with a woman, but with Delilah, everything seemed so easy. She didn’t take herself too seriously; it made it almost easy to forget what he was. She treated him like a normal man. Of course she would. She had no idea what he was. It didn’t matter, not tonight. Tonight he’d take her to his bed, and he would be just a man, a man who wanted her. He would forget that he was a vampire.
FIVE
Ilona threw her shoulders back and sailed out of the theater. She’d lost interest in staying for the second act. Could anybody blame her? She hadn’t seen Samson since the breakup. And to see him after such a long time in the company of a human threw even her for a loop—especially since she’d heard that he was suffering from erectile dysfunction. So what was he doing out with a human woman? Like a mere mortal could ever satisfy a man like Samson. What a ridiculous notion!
Ilona was friendly with Dr. Drake’s receptionist and therefore knew about Samson’s sessions with the shrink. Not that she cared if he could get it up or not; she certainly had no interest in him anymore, particularly since it was clear that he would never blood-bond with her.
She shot past a waiting couple who’d waived down a taxi, and ripped the passenger door open.
“Excuse us, but—” Ilona ignored the man’s protest and snarled at him. She felt better when he flinched and pulled back.
She let herself fall into the backseat and, without thinking, she gave the taxi driver an address as she slammed the door shut.
Only when she leaned back into the seat, did she realize that the address she’d given him was not hers. She sighed. Maybe it was better not to go home, considering the mood she was in. Her subconscious seemed to know what she needed anyway.