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said, his face turning into a blank mask.
    She stiffened. She knew from vast experience what that post-coital tone meant. They were going to have a “Talk” with a capital “T.” She pulled on her skirt. Dom climbed out of bed and found his boxer briefs.
    “Vampires are great for sex, but not for much of anything else.”
    Her chest constricted. “Yeah, sure,” she said, trying for a casual tone. “I have no expectations here,” she reassured him. She sat down on a chair to pull on her cowgirl boots, inwardly cursing the emotions that seemed way too large for this occasion.
    He said nothing for a beat. When he spoke, his voice was soft with regret. “It's not a rejection, by any means.”
    Fuck. He could read her. Her big show of nonchalance was a wasted effort on a vampire who'd just had her blood. And the last thing she needed right now was his sympathy. It made her eyes burn and her throat get tight.
    “No, we're cool. Really. I gotta go downstairs and get ready to sing, okay?”
    “Kate.” Dom was rubbing his chest as if it hurt. Was that her pain he was feeling? Served the fucker right.
    “I'll see you later,” she said and escaped before he could say another word.
    Downstairs Fox offered his cheek to her for a kiss and then narrowed his eyes. He looked at her and then he scanned the room behind her.
    “What?”
    “Were you just with Dom?”
    A surge of anger went through her. Fucking know-it-all vampires. “What makes you say that?” she snapped.
    He registered her anger and dropped some of his attitude. “I smell him on you,” he said mildly. “What's going on with you two?”
    “Nothing. Absolutely nothing, okay?”
    She didn't look at Fox then, because she knew he was regarding her with sympathy. “How about a shot?”
    “Yeah, sure,” she mumbled.
    Fox went to the bar and returned with salt, limes and two shots of Cazadores. “Cheers,” he said, clinking her glass and throwing back the tequila. She did the same, shuddering as she bit into the lime. “Let's blow it up tonight, 'kay?”
    Fox grinned at her. “Atta girl.”
    Thank God she had the Morphs. Performing with them was the best high she ever got. She headed toward the stage and grabbed the microphone. It was summertime, which meant everyone showed up late. They were just starting to arrive and mill about with that awkward, pre-buzzed energy. “Hi there,” she called out.
    “Woo hoo!” She was greeted with several scattered cheers. Her band mates took her presence onstage as a call to action and found their way up on stage, as well. “Don't Speak? By No Doubt?”
    Fox rolled his eyes. “Tell me you're not going to sing breakup songs all night.”
    Kate shrugged. “Can you play it or not?” She knew they could—they'd performed it before. Gwen Stefani was a favorite of hers. They bent their heads to their instruments and played for her. A lot of songs she liked to make her own, but this one she sang just like Gwen did—or at least she hoped she did—infusing her performance with mourning and angst.
    It was a great song no matter who was singing it, and despite it being early, it drew people out on the dance floor like mosquitoes to blood. Or vampires to blood. Dammit.
    Okay, so it wasn't like there was a relationship there to break up in the first place, but it seemed like her feelings at the moment went beyond the sting of a bruised ego. Dom had been more than a drunken hook-up to her. He'd fulfilled her deepest fantasy—and then some. And now she felt horribly exposed. She'd revealed to him a side of herself she'd never shown anyone. It made her feel vulnerable and he'd just given her the brush-off. And God, what if he told people about her weird kink? She'd be the laughingstock of Tucson. As a well-known player in the club scene, it was the kind of thing that people would gobble up.
    “…with my head in my hands I sit and cry… Don't speak—I know what you're saying, so please stop explaining…” Fuck. There,