Blood And Skin

Adrian

"You’re safe now."

The words slipped out as I pulled her trembling body into mine, holding her tight like the world might still try to steal her.

One of the guys silently handed me a tissue, and I took it, wiping the streak of blood running down my hand—blood from where she’d bitten me. Hard. She had fought like a wildcat, and I couldn’t decide if I was pissed or turned on.

“I could’ve died,” she whispered. Again. Like she needed me to hear it, to understand the fear still caught in her throat. She clung to me, digging into my shirt with both fists, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe.

I signaled to the boys—get the car. Now.

Her face was wrecked. Eyes glassy, cheeks flushed, her body still wracked with adrenaline. No visible wounds, but the trauma she just went through radiated through her.

I looked her over again, slower this time.

“Where are you hurt?” I asked.

She didn’t answer. Just cried harder.

Thirty minutes earlier, I’d gotten the call—gunshots, chaos, and Sienna missing or dead. Or the closest thing to it.

At that moment,  I had the driver turn the car around. My phone didn’t stop buzzing with half-assed reports.

All they kept saying was that there was blood everywhere. No sign of her. She might be dead. She might be gone.

and that felt unreal. I had known Sienna for three days in total, and all I know deep down, i didn't want her gone. not yet. or forever even, I haven't had enough.

By the time we reached my estate, I spotted her.

Sprinting across the open field near the road like she was being chased by devil himself.

 Her legs are barely holding her, her body collapsing forward with each stride.

I could tell by how she looked that she had been running to survive whatever happened.

And now, she was in my arms, shaking, crying, bleeding—but alive.

I lifted her easily, pressing her against my chest as the SUV rolled up. The door swung open, and I climbed in with her, shutting the chaos out behind us. The second we pulled away, I pulled her onto my lap.

She was light, like she didn’t weigh a damn thing.

My hands moved on instinct, tugging her blood-stained dress up to inspect her, trying to ignore the way her soft thighs brushed against me. But when I reached under her dress, she jerked.

“What are you doing?” she gasped, trying to push me off.

“I’m checking for wounds. Stay still.”

Her eyes narrowed, but her hands stopped fighting. I pushed her dress higher, then over her head and off, tossing the thing somewhere in the car.

She gasped and crossed her arms over her chest, her cheeks burning.

“He’s not looking,” I said, jerking my chin toward the driver. “And even if he was, he won't see you the way I do.”

And God help me, I saw her.

Bra, underwear, soft curves, and flushed skin. She was shaking in her lace—black, almost sheer, like temptation wrapped in fragility. My eyes dragged across the swell of her breasts, the delicate dip of her waist, the softness of her thighs.

"What way?" 

I chuckled as my eyes roamed around her

“You’re staring,” she said, voice sharp, but her body didn’t move away.

“I’d be a fucking idiot not to,” I murmured, voice low. “You’re half-naked and sitting on my lap, Sienna. What did you expect me to do? Chant the Lord’s Prayer?”

She blushed, her body shifting—accidentally or not, her hips pressed down, brushing over the hard length beneath my pants. I gritted my teeth.

“Don’t do that,” I warned.

“Do what?” she asked, all wide-eyed and innocent. But her fingers were on my thigh now, and I knew damn well she felt what she was doing to me.

“Move like that. Touch me like that. Unless you’re ready for what comes next.”

“You’re a psycho, ” she muttered.

“No, baby,” I said, brushing a knuckle under her chin. “I’m a man who hasn’t had you yet. And right now, your ass in that lace is making it hard to remember I’m trying to keep you safe, not fuck you in the back of this car.”

Her lips parted—maybe to argue, maybe not. She shifted again, just enough to make me growl.

"I almost died."

"Whose blood is this?"

“That’s not my blood,” she blurted, and i had to touch her thigh, she twitched and suddenly, eyes wide again. “It’s not mine. I’m not hurt.”

I blinked, trying to wrestle control back. “Whose blood is it then?”

“I… I splashed blood from your stash. The bags. To make it look like I was dead.”

I stared at her. “You messed with the blood bank?”

She nodded, “It worked,i just wish I made it out of here ?”

"You wanted to escape from me?" I asked

"Yeah, those blood, what are they?" she said like she was about to record my confession

But she was still sitting on me, half-naked, probing me. I had no idea how this woman had become my biggest problem and my biggest weakness.

"What do you think?"

"That you were extracting them from humans and selling them"

“You thought I was extracting and selling blood? that's too much trouble though” 

She shifted on my lap again. God, she had to stop doing that.

“You had no labels, no proper storage—it looked shady.”

“It’s climate-controlled. Medically approved,” I said, smirking. “And before your little journalist brain spirals, I’m not trafficking blood. I fund off-the-record surgeries. Cases hospitals give up on. I buy the supplies. I pay the doctors. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“That’s still illegal,” she whispered.

“Depends on how you define justice.”

"I would write about this"

"if you make it out?" i responded and she looked defensively

“Besides,” I leaned in, lips brushing her ear, voice turning to gravel, “if you want to keep playing detective or journalist, you’ll need to be a little more careful about where you sit when you do it. You're inches from starting something you might not be ready to finish.”

She froze, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

“I…” she started.

But the car stopped before she could finish. I glanced outside—five of the bastards who broke into my compound were lined up, tied and bloodied, waiting for judgment.

“Stay here,” I said, my voice calm now, but my blood still hot.

I peeled her off me gently, setting her down like something precious.