Wow, it's hard to believe I'm on chapter 14 already. I'm having so much fun writing this story, it's kind of taken on a life of it's own. Again, I love the reviews being sent in, always appreciated, each and every one of you.

New York

Her scent was driving him crazy, her body screaming for release. Not bothering to carry her to the bed, Josef pinned her against the wall, sinking his fangs into her neck, infusing the bite with every ounce of finesse and sexuality he could. She accepted his bite with a low moan of surrender, running her hands down his back, and gripping his ass tight, pulling him between her legs, rubbing up against him. He clamped down on the urge to suck her dry, careful to take only a tiny portion of the ambrosia running through her veins. He pulled away. After all, a vamp only had so much self-control.

More than happy to lap up the thin stream of blood leaking from the insignificant wound, Josef made quick work of the back of her dress, letting it fall to her attractive ankles. If she hadn't been wild and needy in his arms, he would have stepped back and admired her in the delicate blue lace bra and matching panties she was sporting. Later, later, he promised himself absently. Right now, he had other plans.

"Want to come?" he whispered in her ear, his fingers dipping beneath the flimsy barrier of her bra, now blunt teeth scraping around the fresh puncture wounds he'd made.

"Duh," she hissed. Ah, even half out of her mind, Beth still managed to have an attitude. Josef found it disturbingly endearing.

Shifting his stance so she was straddling his thigh, he thrust up against her hard, applying the friction in calculated doses, with only a thin layer of lace to protect her. A keening noise worked its way up in her throat, her nails digging into his back through his jacket and shirt, causing a pleasurable sting. He cupped her breast in his hand, manipulating his fingers over the sensitive area, avoiding her pebbled nipple for the time being. She arched her back, those pretty eyes rolling in the back of her head.

"Touch me, I need you to touch me," she panted, tearing his jacket away, yanking his shirt out of his waistband so she could touch his cool skin, explore his lean muscles.

"I am touching you," he rumbled sensually, and she shuddered. He tweaked her nipple softly, grinding his thigh against her sopping folds. Her underwear, he mused, was ruined.

"With your fingers," she gasped.

"And this is what, exactly?" He pinched her nipple harder, just enough to lace a little pain through her pleasure. She was working herself on his thigh, and her heat was searing him. If his hard-on wasn't verging on the territory of severely painful, he could have kept this up all night.

"Put pressure…on…on…my clit, Josef," Beth demanded. "Make me come."

"I will," he promised, voice raw. "But I don't need my fingers." He adjusted her angle on his thigh so he was hitting her clit directly, and she doubled her pace, dragging herself back and forth, the lace and the rough texture of his pants adding more stimulus than mere barrier. He admired the uninhibited display, it was the sexiest thing he'd seen in so long, and he was surrounded by glorified prostitutes all day, real pros at their craft.

They didn't hold a candle to her, to this. Not by a long shot.

He felt her body quaking, kept up his ministrations with his thigh to prolong the moment for her. He was caressing both of her breasts now, the left slightly more sensitive, he noted. Slightly larger, too, to the trained eye. She had faint stretch marks on her upper thighs, a left-over from a growth spurt, he supposed. It was the kind of thing he'd never see in one of his freshies, they were manufactured perfection. Beth was a striking woman, but just short of perfect. For some reason, that made her appeal to him all the more.

Sagging against the wall, Beth watched him with glazed eyes. "You're good," she admitted, a rueful smile tugging those tempting lips.

"Good? I'd say I'm downright amazing." He rested his cheek against her neck, relishing in the scent of fresh blood. She pouted when he took his thigh away, but didn't make verbal protest. He looked down at the huge damp spot on his slacks, sighed. Oh, well. What were dry cleaners for, after all? He held her for a moment, just enjoying her proximity, which really was a bizarre turn of events. He wasn't a snuggler, the last woman he'd bothered with was Sara. It felt like a betrayal to his sleeping beauty.

Brusquely pulling away from her, Josef examined her, and his brief disturbance instantly vanished. Flushed from her orgasm, body heaving with ragged breaths, she was gorgeous. Her bra and underwear covered everything the garments were originally meant to design, no thongs and nipple caps like he was used to, but in its way, this was just as sexy, leaving a little to the imagination. Not much, but a little.

Beth met his examination with a half smile, casually lounging against the wall. Well, while no jaded freshie, she was certainly no demure maiden either, actually somewhere in the middle. Her eyes ran down his body, resting on the pronounced bulge in his fly. "Problem?" she asked coyly.

"Nothing that a little attention wouldn't cure," he answered pointedly. "Get over here."

"Maybe I don't feel like it." Since she hadn't taken her eyes off the area under discussion, he didn't feel too worried about it. Besides, they both knew they were through playing games.

"If you want any kind of experience worth mentioning, you need to relieve the tension. You're a bright girl, I'm sure you'll think of something."

"So much for vampire stamina," she mocked good-naturedly. All the same, she was moving across the room, guiding him over to the bed, lowering him to sit on the edge. "Take off your shirt," she instructed, and like she had earlier, she squeezed him through his pants, and his hips surged forward, witty repartee forgotten. He disrobed from the waist down, kicking off his shoes and socks simultaneously.

Without being urged, she dragged his pants away, his boxers with it. She took a minute to take in the view, unconsciously licking her lips as she eyed what he had to offer. Oh, he wasn't under the impression he was huge, but was still fairly well endowed. Personally, Josef knew from personal experience a guy could be too large, contrary to popular myth.

Gently, she circled him with her slender fingers, drawing a low hiss from him. Her eyes drifted to his face, no insecurities in those clear blue eyes, only desire and curiosity. She began pumping him in a slow, steady rhythm, and before long, he was thrusting into her hand, a stream of growls and moans breaking free from between his lips. Beth seemed to be enjoying herself, feeling free to experiment after the initial familiarization, driving him crazy in the most delicious way possible.

Time had no meaning for Josef right now, the world centered around Beth's talented little hands, his own lust. He was torn between the urge to come and the urge to drown in the sensations she was giving him. She had a practiced touch, but lacked the rehearsed quality he was used to. This wasn't a performance for her, and that made it all the more potent. Not that he was analyzing her technique, or his own his reaction overmuch.

It could have been minutes or hours after she started, but when she gripped his balls and started massaging them, he all but howled. If her blood wasn't necessary, he would have spilled into her hand then and there. Without permission, he gripped her shoulder, jerking her upwards, and he sank his fangs into her upper breast. Even in the heat of the moment, he was still careful not to rip the flesh and to only take a sip or two. Why her personal comfort nagged at him so much, he didn't know. Again, he wasn't much with the analyzing.

When him and reality met up again, he opened his eyes to see her sitting back on her heels. "Open my purse and get me a wet one, would you?" she asked casually, gesturing to her soiled hands.

"So much for savoring the moment," he groused, but accommodated her, even went the extra mile, and opened the small package for her.

"Oh, don't worry," she assured him as she cleaned her hands. "There's plenty more moments to come…if you think you can handle it." After having the gall to issue that challenge, she tossed the used wet one into the trash, conveniently placed in the corner.

"I see. If anyone has to worry about keeping up, human, it's you," he announced, yanking her up on the bed before she even had time to blink. Her bra and soaked panties hit the floor in a second flat. Her eyes got wide and then she laughed.

"Neat trick," she allowed simply, her voice warm with her amusement.

"Oh, that's nothing." He laid her on the bed, hovering over her before giving her a grin that might have belonged to the devil himself. "I'm just getting started."

"You know what? I believe you." She was still amused, but erotic anticipation merged with the sentiment. "So why don't you get started already?"

LA

Whether he had his memory or not, Mick knew a bombshell when one hit him in the face. It was pretty self-explanatory, actually. He stared at Coraline, not sure how he should be feeling. He wasn't sure if he was glad or sorry she'd come clean with him. On one hand, it sure explained a lot, but on the other, he'd enjoyed the clean slate, the freedom to just enjoy her intoxicating presence, and how alive she made him feel. One thing was for sure, this complicated, flawed woman loved him, and he loved her. He probably always had, but his feelings had been buried under distrust and grudges, he sensed.

"Coraline, look at me," he requested. She was in a cooperative mood, because her eyes opened, and he could sense how much courage she'd exercised by being honest. Knowing the truth changed everything, but in a way, didn't change anything at all. It was weird. "Why did you decide to share this with me now? Are you trying to get rid of me to protect me, or were you trying to get ahead of any surfacing memories?"

"You don't trust me," she observed, more resigned about that than hurt or disappointed. "I don't blame you. After what-"

"Just answer the question." Maybe it didn't matter, and maybe he wouldn't get an honest answer anyway, but he wanted to hear what she had to say.

"Look, if you're going to risk your neck, you should at least have some facts to base your decisions on." She stood, paced a little. "I wanted a fresh start, Mick, a chance to win you back, I guess. I was hoping by the time you remembered…"

"It wouldn't matter anymore?" he speculated. The possibility that she might have set this whole thing up didn't even cross his mind. He remembered that first night when he initially came to, how genuinely shocked she felt when he showed his amnesia. He'd felt her shock. Faking that kind of surprise was a pretty tall order, even for Coraline, as talented as he suspected she could be.

"I wouldn't go that far," Coraline countered with a humorless smile. "So, now you know."

"So now I know," he agreed. He wasn't sure what she wanted to hear, and even less sure of what he wanted to say.

"I should probably start packing."

"You're right. We may need to make a hasty exit. We should probably pack light," he decided thoughtfully.

"That's not what I meant, Mick," she explained, sounding off guard.

"I know. But it's what I meant." He stood up, but didn't bridge the gap between them. "Coraline, just to be clear, I'm not sure I'm okay with what I just heard. I can't even process what I just heard. But it doesn't change the fact I love you, and I'm not going to throw you to the wolves. If Lance is after you, we don't have time to get in touch with our inner Doctor Phil, and become one with our emotions."

She snorted, her expression incredulous. "How do you even know about that over-paid guru? Your memory's wiped clean."

"We aren't joined at the hip, Coraline. Occasionally, I do channel surf," he informed her, grinning at her reaction. Even with his mind struggling to absorb everything, he got a kick out of being around her. Then he sobered, remembering the threat looming over their heads. "We're in this together, and that isn't changing. Got it?"

"Mick, this isn't your fight, this is between me and brother dearest." She sneered her way through the last two words.

"Got it?" he repeated firmly, ignoring her well-intended protest.

"If you're coming along for the ride, you do as I say, and don't pull any knight of the roundtable dramatics." Coraline was taking back the reigns of command, and that was fine with Mick. It was a no-brainer. She was older, stronger, knew the enemy better, and her memory was in full working order. Mick had no problem being in the passenger seat, as long as he came along for the ride.

"You're the boss." Maybe this wasn't the time, but he couldn't resist pulling her forward, merging their mouths, losing himself in the kiss. With a sob of relief, he felt her tug him forward, deepen the kiss, giving and taking, offering temporary escape. He stroked her curls, lost in her. He ran his tongue along her extending fangs, letting the razor edges slice, the cut vanishing even as his blood slid down her throat. She mimicked the gesture, he gratefully swallowed her offering.

The thrill of her blood flowing into his system coupled with the eroticism of the kiss was a high no narcotic would ever match. They were part of each other, he felt the bond keenly, a tangible link between them. It was tempting to physically consummate that bond, to assert himself as her mate in every sense of the word.

Not today, it couldn't be today. When they had sex, there wouldn't be any ghosts of past mistakes putting a damper on the moment, there wouldn't be any swords threatening to fall on their necks. His reason had been similar earlier in the freezer, and if he hadn't given in then, he wasn't giving in now.

Ending the kiss, Mick rested his forehead against hers. "It'll be okay," he told her, reassuring both of them.

"Lance is a freak show," Coraline snarled. "Don't underestimate him."

"Don't overestimate him either," Mick shot back. "Okay, he's powerful, but everybody's got an Achilles' heel. What's his?"

"His ego," Coraline answered thoughtfully. "And while we're on the subject, he doesn't tend to strain himself, he doesn't really have to. He has our other brothers do all his grunt work, and if I know my relations as well as I know I do, there's bound to be some resentment."

"That's something to work with." Mick gripped her shoulders, giving them a firm shake. "You're a predator, act like it. Show your fangs. You gonna let big brother walk all over you?"

Coraline blinked in surprise, a slow grin spreading on her lips, her teeth exposed. "You're right. I'm sure between the two of us; we can come up with something…inspired."