Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

too.
    Was this the kind of hunger which drove his kind into vampirism?
    Charlie shuddered at the thought.
    "You got a first aid kit?" he managed.
    Luke gestured to the cupboards. "Under the sink."
    Retrieving the tin box with the universal red cross on top, he turned his attention back to Luke. But when he turned around his breath caught in his chest.
    Luke had removed his shirt.
    Never before had Charlie seen anything sexier.
    Concentrating on using the garment to apply pressure to his wound, Luke didn't notice Charlie's fangs or the glow of his eyes at the sight of his broad chest covered in golden hair, the muscles every bit as sculpted as he'd imagined them to be. And oh, yeah, he had imagined. With no work-out equipment in the apartment, Luke either went to the gym a lot or had a body carved by hard work and sports. Seeing blood trickle from beneath the shirt made Charlie's mouth water for a taste.
    Fuck, you're a goner…
    "Now let me take a look at that cut," Charlie said once he got his appearance under control though his voice did tremble.
    He approached, clenching his jaw to prevent his fangs from showing. They cut ever so slightly into his lip, the tang of blood filling his mouth and making his dick hard. Breathing through his nose made the craving worse, because all he could smell was Luke.
    Get it together, pal!
    Luke pulled the shirt back and Charlie tsked. "Looks like he got you deep."
    The center of the cut delved into the muscle and no doubt hurt like a mother fucker. It bled pretty steady, too, saturating the shirt. "That's about useless. You got a clean towel?"
    "Top drawer, left of the sink," Luke told him.
    Grabbing one, Charlie handed it over. When Luke's attention fixed on swapping the ruined garment for the towel, Charlie shifted his stiff cock in his jeans. Either too proud to show pain or still in shock, Luke winced very little. Charlie had to smile at the guy's pain threshold. The big, beautiful man was strong. Strong enough to become a willing donor…
    No!
    Charlie couldn't allow that train of thought to go anywhere. Feeding from Luke was a bad idea, especially with this intense fascination. He needed to figure out what the hell was going on first.
    "Think I need stitches?" Luke asked, examining the wound.
    Charlie sighed and shook his head. "No, can't do that."
    If it had been a knife wound, then yes, he would need stitches. Sometimes humans had an adverse reaction to the bacteria in a werewolf's claw. It wouldn't turn them, but it could affect their mind, make them crazy—hence the stories of being turned. But there was more than just a risk of bleeding out. The injury could kill him. So Charlie had only one option.
    He had to heal Luke himself.
    Which meant he had to give him his blood.
    Fuck .
    "Why can't I get stitches?" Luke wanted to know.
    Charlie hesitated. "Well, we just can't."
    Luke's green eyes were wide, trusting.
    Kneeling before him, Charlie offered a smile. Luke towered over him, so huge and warm. His pulse quickened, his dick ached, knowing how fucking awesome it would be to have Luke drink from him. The one thing the stories got right was the sexual arousal, and intimacy feeding caused both partners.
    Charlie's voice lowered, thickened by lust. "We have to try something else."
    "Like what?" The man's bare chest flushed before his eyes— the color of desire. Charlie could smell the testosterone in his pheromones spike. Luke was getting excited, too. That would make everything so much easier.
    And so much hotter.
    Dragging his gaze down Luke's thick, hair-dusted body, Charlie allowed himself a wicked little chuckle. Gods, the man was sexy! That barrel-like chest heaved with deep slow breaths of anticipation. Heart pounding, he placed both trembling hands on Luke's thighs. His vision altered as the blood lust consumed him and he knew that when he met Luke's gaze his eyes were glowing.
    Luke took in a sharp breath when he saw his eyes and Charlie seized the moment. He pushed into his mind again. His resistance collapsed at once, as if Luke had granted full permission.
    "Trust me. I want to help you," he whispered, aware of the witching influence of his voice. "If we don't do this you could die."
    Luke cocked his head to the side, studying him. For a moment Charlie feared he would have to push on him again.
    Then he gave the barest of nods. "I trust you."
    Raising a wrist to his mouth, Charlie let his fangs drop. Luke's eyes widened curiously but he did not shy away. The