Destiny: A Fantasy Collection

by Rachelle Mills

  He cleared his throat and attempted to navigate his rambling thoughts into safer waters. “But for a long time, relationships weren’t a priority because I couldn’t get over how there was so much to learn and absorb. I know a lot of arguably useless things—like an analysis of the theme of reconciliation and compassion in Shakespeare’s later plays—but it’s impossible to get bored with the information available on this planet.”

  Apparently willing to ignore his strange detour into talk of relationships, her gaze fell toward his wall of diplomas. “I see that.” With a teasing smile, she asked, “How did you even get degrees before night classes existed anyway?”

  “Let’s just say it involved sleeping in empty classrooms, hiding in basements, scurrying through ductwork, and choosing my seats very carefully,” he said wryly.

  “And now you’re Mr. Transactional Curmudgeon. What happened?” she teased.

  Henry considered giving her a flippant, dismissive answer, but he found himself unable to turn away from whatever connection they apparently had.

  “After turning, traveling and carousing were fun for a while, but eventually I wanted to do something with more meaning than late-night benders. Guess I’ve become a bit set in my ways.”

  Henry shifted uncomfortably against the edge of his desk, suddenly remembering that he was still nearly naked. The air conditioning was raising goosebumps on his arms, and despite his best efforts, he had completely decimated any chance he’d had with her that afternoon. He would just have to develop a more solid plan another time. Hopefully his penis wouldn’t secede from his body in protest before he figured out how to let things play out organically. There was a fine line between dragging her to his bedroom like an ogre and seizing the right moment.

  Emma laughed hollowly. “I’m already set in my ways, and I’m not even thirty. What’s my excuse?”

  Henry gave her a droll look. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.” He pushed away from the desk and headed toward the door. “How many times have you had heart-to-hearts with your shirtless, pantsless colleagues?”

  “Boss” just didn’t sound right.

  She counted on her fingers, her lips moving slightly. “At least twelve,” she called matter-of-factly.

  He laughed. Well, that was enough Vampires 101 for one day. He may as well go put some pants on and let her get to writing her brief.

  “I have one last question about blood—”

  He clapped once to clasp his hands together. “I beg your pardon, but I am going to put some clothes on. When I get back, I can give you a bag of blood to stare at to allay your curiosity. Then you can go catch up on your work.”

  Henry didn’t wait for her response and waved her off as he walked out the door.

  ***

  Emma was still bad at trying to trick herself. Yes, she absolutely had a brief to write.

  In two weeks.

  Still, she’d put on a cute dress to go work on said document, and if say, Henry happened to be there, all the better. It was a reasonable assumption he might be there on a weekend. But finding him eating pancakes in his boxers was not how she’d imagined seeing him. She certainly hadn’t expected him to toss their understanding by the wayside and pull out all the stops to turn her into a mess of lust.

  Emma had been surprised but amused at the revelation that he lived and worked in the building, but it was a minor detail when all she could focus on was him. He was pale, especially for Arizona, but was lean with a nice dusting of dark chest hair. He wasn’t brawny enough to be an intimidating beefcake, and he still had some cushion that likely made him incredibly comfortable to sleep next to. His body was wonderfully average. She knew it was an odd thing to appreciate so thoroughly, but her hands itched to run down his body; she ached to feel his arms wrapped tightly around her. She felt paralyzed and thrilled and overwhelmed.

  Even so, she couldn’t seem to make up her damn mind. She found herself continually chickening out by throwing random questions at him to keep things from escalating. She couldn’t bring herself to cross that line from business to something complicated. Daphne was right, she thought darkly. She did want to plan her spontaneity. Now she’d finally driven him away and she sat frozen in a stupid chair.

  My God, she realized in horror, I’m letting the nearly naked man walk away.

  Emma leapt from her seat and tore down the hallway. “Henry!” she called a little desperately.

  She slowed as she approached a couple of doors to what he had told her were storage rooms. Picking one door, she threw it open and called out, “Henry!” again. She stopped short and scowled. It was actually a goddamn file and storage room.

  Turning on her heel, she ran back out into the hallway to try the other door and stumbled into the man of the hour. He’d put on jeans, but he was still shirtless, thank God. Before she could give herself another excuse to back down, she threaded her fingers through his hair and brought his lips down to hers. Sometimes you just had to make a slow, sweet mess of things.

  ***

  Henry brought her body flush against his; she was warm and supple. He wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her close. She tasted sweet, with traces of maple syrup still on her lips. Her hot breath fanned against him as she opened her mouth to moan. He never wasted an opportunity like that when it presented itself.

  Henry kissed her back and slid his tongue into her mouth in question. She responded by letting their tongues intertwine. He wanted to touch every inch of skin on her body. Slowly and reluctantly, he ended the kiss by giving her a series of increasingly shorter kisses. Then he nipped at her jaw and kissed her neck. Inhaling deeply, he could smell and feel her blood coursing rapidly in her veins.

  The thought of her sinking her own fangs into his neck slithered into his mind so quickly that the base of his fangs started to throb. They started to drop down, but he quickly retracted them. As delicious as she smelled, this wasn’t about that. After so long without sex, his cock had priority over bloodlust. It was painfully stiff as he ground his hips against hers. He brushed the stubble on his jaw against her sensitive neck then kissed and nipped at her earlobe. He breathed hot and heavy breaths against her ear. Emma moaned again, and he couldn’t help but smile, delighting in the mischief they were allowing themselves.

  He groaned when he felt her hands dig into his ass. Why were they still standing? They needed a bed.

  Henry pulled back slightly and dragged his thumb across her lips. “What do you want?”

  Every lawyer knew you should never ask a question you didn’t know the answer to, but he wanted to make sure.

  “You. Inside me,” she said, her breath uneven.

  Her response brought him such elation that his cock nearly organized a parade, complete with a plumed hat-festooned marching band. Henry grasped Emma’s hand and pulled the door to his bedroom open to lead her inside. Yet just as he did so, Ingrid came skittering to a halt in front of them, seemingly out of nowhere. Before Henry could get Emma to his bed, the cat yowled and rubbed up against Emma’s bare calf. Within a few moments, Ingrid was purring and mashing her face into the poor woman’s leg.

  Emma laughed and leaned down to pet her. “You seem to like me a lot lately, sweetie,” she cooed.

  Henry’s eyes widened. Now was not the time for a vampire-cat psychic connection!

  “Come back later,” he hissed.

  The cat swiped at him before rubbing up against Emma some more. With a long-suffering sigh, he scooped Ingrid up and walked back to his office. He deposited her into her day bed and hurried back to Emma.

  “Sorry. She’s my first familiar, and we’ve got this mental connection. I’m not used to it at all, but apparently my emotions have an impact on her,” he said, gesturing awkwardly.

  She let out a sharp, delighted laugh. “Is your cat hot for me?”

  Henry grimaced. “Really would rather not think about that.”

  “I wouldn’t either if I had a creepy cat like her,” she teased.

 
He gave her a withering glare that made her bite her lip. Not wanting the vestiges of lust to fade too much, he switched on his bedside lamp before hitting the light switch to kill the overhead. Henry grabbed her hand once more, sat at the edge of the bed, and brought her in close to stand between his open thighs.

  Kicking off her shoes, Emma leaned down and kissed him again, and he knew he was quickly becoming addicted to her soft, welcoming lips. He fumbled with the zipper at the back of her red dress, but soon the material dropped to her feet. She straightened, and he soaked up the vision of her in a bra and panties. Her bright purple bra hugged her breasts, and her red lace-trimmed panties cradled hidden delights.

  “You’re not matching,” he teased.

  She put one hand on her hip. “First rule of sex in the twenty-first century: Don’t criticize a girl you’re about to have sex with.” She sighed melodramatically. “But you’re right, I’m sorry. I should’ve planned more carefully, since I had totally anticipated fucking you when I got dressed this morning.”

  “Didn’t you, though?” He smirked at her.

  “Of course not!” She blushed. “Maybe. I don’t know. Who cares?”

  Henry wrapped his arms around her waist. “Well, I’m terribly sorry to have offended you. I have an awful lot to catch up on,” he murmured against her stomach.

  His hands migrated up her back to unfasten her bra, but Emma guided his hands away from her body. She looked down at him, wavy brown hair falling in her face. Her gaze drank him in as she trailed one finger down his chest. His erection strained against the too-thick denim of his pants. She rubbed his length. He couldn’t take it; this woman was exactly who he wanted.

  Emma climbed onto the bed to straddle him, and he couldn’t help but be transfixed by her breasts. The bra held them so securely, almost lovingly, but displayed the soft, bouncy globes with pride. He envisioned his hands cradling her breasts all day, holding them with the same commitment as this scrap of fabric.

  “I want that job,” he muttered to no one in particular.

  “What job?” she asked, nose wrinkled in a frown.

  “Your bra’s,” he said hoarsely. “It’s a great little fantasy.”

  She tipped her head back and laughed; the warmth of it rolled across her skin. He blinked slowly. Leveling him with a smirk, she unclasped her bra and tossed it to the floor.

  “I can think of a few things you can do that my bra definitely can’t.” She leaned forward and pressed her chest to his face.

  With an overwhelming hunger, he kissed her breasts and slowly, teasingly sucked on her nipples. A gasp devolved into a moan. It felt so good to touch her body again, and this time she wouldn’t get away until he’d driven himself into her and them both into oblivion.

  “You know, I’ve had my own great little fantasy,” she managed after a while.

  He pulled his mouth away from her breasts, all ears.

  “It seems,” she continued, “that ever since I met you, I’ve developed a vampire fetish.”

  Mouth dry, his cock pressed against her, tight and thick. He tilted his head back before opening his mouth and letting his fangs drop for her perusal.

  “What? These old things?” he asked with false modesty.

  She smiled and bit her lip. “I think I even imagined you wrapping me in a big, dark cape once.”

  He grinned. “I’ll admit I do still have capes. The fashion never got very big here, though. I can’t believe you bought one.”

  Her voice got husky when she said, “Why do you think I bought it? Aside from looking awesome, of course.”

  Heat flushed his skin, but he managed to ask casually, “Have you thought about us in a bed before?”

  “Of course. Why—”

  “Good. So have I. Think it’s reasonable to make at least one fantasy come true.”

  He tangled his fingers in her dark hair to cradle her nape. He slowly explored her mouth and let their tongues intertwine. God, it felt so right with her. As she ground against his taut erection, he gripped her hips to keep her from thinking about doing anything but fucking him.

  “I might die if I keep these jeans on,” he admitted.

  She pretended to consider this. “Seems reasonable,” she said and maneuvered herself off his lap.

  Henry rose and shucked the rest of his clothes. She staked her claim on the bed and lay back on the pillows to watch him intensely. He soon realized that she wasn’t watching him, so much as a specific part of him. Her mouth parted, and he knew she liked what she saw. He grabbed his length in one hand and began stroking it for her benefit because…why not give her a show?

  She leaned forward and swatted his hands away. His breath died in his throat the moment she wrapped her warm hands around him. A droplet of moisture welled at the tip of his shaft. Then the weight of five years without sex finally dawned on him, from his balls to his brain. There was no way he was going to last more than a few minutes, if that. He was such an idiot. He was going to blow it—literally. He jerked back out of her reach and let out a shaky laugh.

  “Easy, tiger,” he said. “You know how long it’s been for me. You don’t want this to be over before it’s started, do you?”

  She flashed that gorgeous smile at him again. If he didn’t have a chance in hell of lasting longer than two minutes, he was going to have to drive her insane first.

  “As you were,” he instructed and motioned for her to lie back down.

  Not wasting a second, he was back at her side. She complied, so he nudged her legs apart until they fell open. He pulled down her panties and tossed them to the floor. If he didn’t trust himself to be inside her yet, this was the only place he wanted to be.

  ***

  Emma thought she might collapse, though this time it would be in the comfort of a bed instead of on a heap of broken particle board. It may have been a while since he’d been with someone, but he hadn’t forgotten how to go down on a girl. His mouth was sweet torture—sucking, licking, nibbling at her. His fingers were firm but gentle as they thrust deep inside her. She felt incredibly exposed, but this was nothing after what they’d done on a rickety desk. How had she lasted over a month without pulling his face between her legs every morning until he made her come a thousand times?

  She was slowly losing her mind. He kept bringing her close to the edge, stopping, waiting, and then starting all over again. Unabashed, she’d told him repeatedly how much she needed him inside her. To her dismay, he’d just smiled against her wet, swollen lips, shaken his head “no,” and continued the torture.

  “Henry,” she said in a husky voice she didn’t recognize, “I am begging you. No, I am telling you: If you don’t shove that cock in me within the next ten seconds, I am quitting my job.”

  He laughed, and finally he relented, using his arms to haul himself back up to loom over her. He was grinning at her, and his blue eyes twinkled. Emma’s eyes widened with delight when she realized his mouth and jaw were slick with her arousal. She grabbed a corner of the sheet she was lying on and pulled it up to help him wipe his mouth.

  “Did I make a mess?” he asked roguishly.

  “The best kind.” She put her hands on either side of his face and brought him down for a kiss. She tasted her sweet muskiness on his tongue and smiled. Reaching between his legs, she reached for his erection and stroked it. Giddiness rose within her when she realized he was still so hard despite not having any direct contact with her for a while. Unfortunately, before she could get very far, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed.

  “This isn’t going to last long, but if you give me a chance, I’m sure I can regain my stamina with a bit of practice,” he said grimly, but his voice was edged with determination.

  “Swear to Christ, I promise I won’t leave you a one-star rating if you would just…” She nudged her hips against his. “Please?”

  With relief, she watched as Henry removed his hands from her wrists and guided himself toward her. As he pushed inside her, she couldn’t help
but cry out. She was so wet; he slid right in. His thickness made her feel so wonderfully full.

  “Oh my God,” he groaned.

  She watched as he angled both of their hips downward and realized with each delicious thrust, the top of the base of his shaft grazed her clit. She squeezed herself around him as he slowly, rhythmically drove himself in and out of her. This angle was heaven. Suddenly she knew why he’d tortured her with his mouth for so long. She lifted her hands to rest on his clenched jaw. Unexpected tenderness snuck under her skin.

  “You’re such a gentleman,” she noted with gratitude.

  He clamped his hands on her wrists again and brought them back down on the bed.

  “Nothing of the sort,” he said with a harsh thrust.

  Fresh desire lanced through when she noticed his fangs were down again. Her eyelids nearly slid shut as she moaned. His thrusts increased, and it was over almost as quickly as it began. She felt him harden even more and watched as his face contorted. He groaned, and she melted a little more as he came. She loved hearing the noises he made and the strong pulse of him inside her. But hell if he was going to be the only one to finish.

  Thankfully he kept thrusting, like a steam locomotive fighting momentum to come to a stop. She squeezed each time he brushed against her clit and soon felt herself falling too. She screamed as she came undone around him. Her breathing was harsh as she spasmed over and over around his thickness. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy. Her head lolled to the side, she was utterly spent.

  Too late, she realized his fangs were coming straight for her neck.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Emma blinked, confused. She’d been expecting pain, but aside from the delicious weight of his body, she didn’t feel anything. She brought her free hand to her neck but still felt…nothing. Angling her head to the side, she saw Henry’s face was planted in the pillow by her head. She thought she heard him breathing but still felt the need to give him a little shake.