I feel his presence him before I see him. Before the elevator door opens. Frey. He's leaning against the doorjamb, feet crossed at the ankles, eyes closed.
"Don't tell me," I say, brushing past him to unlock the door. "Another full moon."
He laughs, opens his eyes, and straightens up. "No. It only happens like that once a month. Well, twice if there's a blue moon."
He follows me inside.
I toss my purse and keys on the coffee table. "Want a beer?"
"I'd prefer wine, if you have it."
I shake my head. "Sorry. I'm not a wine drinker." Gave it up after Avery. He actually had vineyards in France. Which I guess I own now.
Frey is watching me. "Where did you go just then?"
"It's not important. What are you doing here?"
In a deliberately casual movement, he spreads his hands. "I thought you might want company."
"Company?"
"You seemed a little lost when I left you this afternoon. You don't seem much better now. Did things go well with Trish and your mother?"
"Peachy." I hear the sarcasm in my voice.
Frey raises an eyebrow.
"Mom will give Trish everything her own mother didn't. She'll finally have a chance to be a kid."
He shakes his head. "Trish will never be a kid. Not with what she's gone through. Can your mother accept that?"
It's my turn to raise an eyebrow. "Are you a psychologist, too? I don't remember seeing that on your resume."
There's tension building in the room that's making me edgy. "Listen, Frey, thanks for stopping by, but I think you should go. I'm tired. I need sleep."
He doesn't move toward the door, but rather takes a step closer to me. This time there's no mistaking the tension. It's arcing between us, scorching my skin.
"What are you doing?"
His hands rest on my shoulders, and where his fingers come in contact with my flesh, it begins to tingle. Heat courses down the length of my body.
"Frey?"
I'm shivering with a searing need that's been building all day. He's responding to it. His hands pull me closer.
"What are you doing?"
His mouth is at my ear. "You need to feed. It's the only thing that will release the fury in you. I'm here. For you."
The hardness of his thigh brushing against mine floods me with desire.
And then we're on the floor, freeing ourselves from the bonds of our clothing. I straddle him, holding him captive beneath me with thighs and legs. He moans, his hands gripping my waist, and moves, forcing himself deeper inside.
I open his neck to drink. The tempo builds until both hungers are satisfied, and only then does a great peace descend over me.
