Mike was torn. He knew once Crandall set his mind to something he’d do it. He could still picture numerous instances. Most recently, the way Crandall worked out until he was nearly falling asleep on his feet, intent on keeping up with Ash during their sparing sessions overnight.
Regardless of Crandall’s stubbornness, Mike couldn’t let him walk into that club with blood on his mind. He grabbed Crandall’s arm as Crandall swung the passenger door open. Before Crandall’s feet hit the pavement, Mike pulled him back and wrapped his arms around him, pulling his back against Mike’s chest.
Mike sighed against Crandall’s ear resisting the urge to release him when he felt Crandall tense, the anger and anxiety coursing through Crandall’s body as clear as lust and desire had been moments ago. “Wait,” Mike whispered. “Please.”
“You’re not going to talk me out of this.” Crandall stopped struggling but Mike could still feel the tension in his body.
“I get it.” Mike brushed his lips over the hard ridges of Crandall’s ear. Crandall’s kryptonite. “I understand, but listen.” He paused, kissed Crandall’s ear. “If you go in there now, with all those vampires in the club, you’ll never succeed, let alone survive.” He paused again, licked Crandall’s earlobe. “Wait. Wait for her to be alone and vulnerable. No one will know it was us.”
Us. Mike wanted nothing to do with killing the handmaiden to one of the strongest vampires in the city, but he would. If Crandall insisted. And he’d pray they weren’t discovered. Thank God they turn to ash and dirt. No body, no evidence.
“Alright.” Crandall squirmed away and sat up straight in his seat. “I’ll wait for her to leave.” He twisted sideways to face the back door of the club.
“Crank. C’mon, man.”
“What the fuck? Did you mean what you said or were you fucking with me?” Crandall’s glare turned on Mike for the span of three seconds before diverting back to the club.
“No, I meant it. Just not tonight.” Mike cranked the key and the engine growled and grumbled to live. “Though, shit, man, two seconds ago you were ready to skip breakfast. Come home and finish what you started. She’ll be around to stake another night.”
Crandall shifted his gaze again but Mike could tell his attention was on that door.
Mike leaned closer but left space between them, testing Crandall’s resolve. “You may as well go hang out with Jon and Beryl if you’re going to wait for Nica. I’m not sitting in this parking lot all night.”
Crandall’s gaze dropped to Mike’s mouth, his lips parted soundlessly. Crandall’s body both relaxed and tensed, as if he was considering grabbing Mike right there in the car, or demanding Mike join him in the passenger seat. Didn’t matter. Mike knew the look. Crandall’s mind was on sex. A very good place for it to be.
“So are you getting out or are you getting fucked?” Mike grinned as Crandall sucked in a sharp breath and nodded.
“Home?” Mike asked.
“You fucking suck.”
Mike’s smile turned wicked. “That can be arranged.”
“Oh, hell, yeah.” Crandall swayed forward but paused, his lips two inches from Mike’s. “Fuck, yeah,” he whispered, barely audible, yet more powerful than any sound Mike had heard recently.
Crandall sat back in his seat, his gaze out the front glass, staring into the night. Mike nodded. Perfect. No fighting, just fucking. A perfect ending to a night of music. He sat up and faced forward. As he shifted the car into reverse, Crandall spoke up.
“What about that shit on your window?”
“What shit?” Mike glanced Crandall’s way.
Crandall threw the door open and was out the door before Mike could shift into park and grab him. Crandall plucked the card from under his windshield wiper and climbed back into the car. Just the note. Good. For a brief moment, he’d thought Crandall had suddenly decided to go through with his suicide mission after all.
When Crandall handed the note to Mike, he took it reluctantly. He shoved it between the console and his seat, then shifted into reverse again.
“Aren’t you going to read it?”
Mike considered parking again but decided if he didn’t get moving soon, he’d be tempted to fuck Crank right there in the parking lot to make his point. “Not interested,” Mike said as he turned to look out the back window.
He rolled the car back, and then shifted into drive. As he drove through the small parking lot designated for staff and bands only, Crandall fished the envelope out from beside Mike’s seat.
“If that’s going to piss you off again, it can wait until tomorrow.” It didn’t work. Crandall said nothing and slid his finger under the flap, breaking the seal. He pulled out an equally pink piece of note paper and tossed the envelope on the floor.
Mike sighed. “What’s it say?” he asked as Crandall remained quiet.
“Shit about vampires liking history, and that we should take a tour on the Freedom Trail some night.”
“Definitely not tonight.” Crandall tossed the letter on the floor and reached for Mike. Mike stomped on the gas, pulling out onto the main road as Crandall’s fingers walked up his inner thigh. It would be tough to drive home with Crandall’s hand wandering, but Mike had no other choice and wouldn’t have it any other way.