“You what?” he prodded.
Violet bit down on her lower lip and lifted her hips, driving him deeper. He groaned, but obviously recognized a diversion when he saw—or felt—one.
He pulled back until just the tip of his cock was still inside her. His shoulders shook with the effort of his restraint, but he held his ground. “Tell me.”
She bit down harder on her lip until she tasted blood. “Please don’t stop. I need you.” She tightened her thighs around his hips. “I’ve never needed anyone the way I need you.”
He knew that wasn’t what she’d intended to say. She could tell by the expression on his face. But apparently her admission—which was also 100% true—was sufficient, because he plunged back into her immediately. “Like this?” he asked, his voice low and throaty.
She whimpered. “God,yes. More.”
Nikolai pushed himself up onto his arms, settling his hands on her ribcage. With one last grunt of appreciation as he took in the full view of her body, he started to move, driving into her over and over.
The intense concentration on his face was mesmerizing, but way too controlled for her liking. She wanted him as wild and out of control as she was. She clenched her inner muscles around him.
And that was apparently all it took. His mouth captured hers in a fierce kiss as he surged forward, even deeper than before. She might’ve cried out, but couldn’t be certain. Her entire being was way too focused on him—on the slide of his chest against her breasts with every thrust, on the way his tongue tangled with hers, on the flex and pull of his muscles, rippling under his smooth, taut skin.
It was, by far, the most intense sexual experience Violet had ever had. Every sexual encounter she’d ever had before tonight was vanilla, simple and sweet. But with Nikolai…dark hot chocolate. All. The. Way.
“I’m yours, Violet,” he murmured, tracing his tongue over her collarbone. “Always have been. But are you mine?”
Goosebumps broke out all over her body. This was a defining moment. Her brain told her not to engage in any defining moments during sex. Emotions and endorphins were running high, which was just a recipe for bad decision- making. But this was different. This was Nikolai. So, for once in her life, she let her heart answer his question instead of her brain.
“Yes,” she whispered, lifting her hips to meet him halfway. “I’m yours.”
His breath hitched, but his movements didn’t falter. He slipped his arm under her hips again and lifted so he could go deeper, harder.
He rode her slowly, despite her growing desperation and the silent but insistent demand of her hips—more, harder, faster—as she ground against him. But when she gave voice to her plea, he moaned her name and grabbed hold of her hips with both hands as he thrust deep, giving her everything she wanted and more until, unbelievably, she came again.
And this time, he came with her, resting his forehead against her collarbone and shuddering in her arms. It was perfect.
He let go of her hips and collapsed on top of her with a deep sigh. Violet had no idea how long they stayed that way, the delicious weight of him pressing her into the mattress, his steady breathing splaying across her neck, his heart beating against hers.
But the longer they stayed silent, the more her brain started nudging her to talk. They needed to talk. He knew it. He’d tried to tell her that before she dragged him off to bed.
“So,” she began, trailing her fingers lightly up and down the muscled expanse of his back. “Should we have that talk now?”
He raised his head and smiled down at her, and her breath whooshed out. God, if she could bottle that smile and sell it to lonely, horny women all over the world, she’d never have to work another day in her life.
“Later,” he answered. “Much later.”
And with that, he pulled out of her, flipped her over onto her knees and slid into her from behind.
Her fingers twisted into the sheets beneath her and she helplessly arched back against him. “Okay,” she choked out. “Much later.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next day, Violet sat down at Harper’s conference room table, pretending she didn’t feel her friend Mischa’s eyes on her, taking in her appearance, noting all the little changes she really didn’t want to talk about in front of Harper’s entire crew.
Mischa sat down right next to her. “You look different,” she said.
Violet tucked her hair behind her ear. That morning, before Nikolai dropped her off at Harper’s building and he headed out to meet with his PO, she’d tried to take a few moments to pin her hair up as usual. But Nikolai hadn’t let her.
Oh, he hadn’t forbid her to do it or anything, but when she started working on it, he’d wedged himself between her and the mirror, dropped to his knees, and so thoroughly distracted her with his tongue between her legs that she couldn’t remember her own name, let alone how to get her mass of blond curls pinned up into a French twist.
In the end, she arrived right on time for her meeting with Harper. Flushed and slightly disheveled, but right on time. And about as sated as she’d ever been in her life.
Harper sat down across from her and also eyed her critically. “You do look different.” Then, she snapped her fingers and said, “Your hair’s down!” She gave Violet another once-over, then shrugged. “You look great. But then again, you always look great. No real news there.”
“It’s not just the hair,” Mischa said.
“Where’s everyone else?” Violet asked, hoping the change of topic would steer Mischa away from the truth about why she probably looked different this morning.
“Riddick will be here soon,” Harper said. “He’s dropping Haven off at my mom’s house. Lucas and Seven are running down a lead for me, so they won’t be here. Benny’s on his way, too.”
Violet nodded, but could still feel Mischa’s eyes boring into the side of her head. After a few more tense moments, Mischa blurted out, “You had sex!”
Violet sucked in an outraged gasp. “You promised you’d never read my mind without my permission!”
Mischa threw her hands up in the universal sign of surrender. “I didn’t! I can tell just by looking at you. You’re all relaxed and happy-looking.”
Harper grinned at her. “It was Comrade Hottie, wasn’t it?” When Violet didn’t answer, Harper’s smile melted into a grimace. “Please tell me it was the hot Russian and not the twatwaffle with the comb-over.”
Just the thought of sex with Miles made her shiver. And not in the fun way. “I haven’t seen Miles since I broke up with him.” There’d been some increasingly odd and desperate-sounding messages on her voice mail from him, but she’d started deleting those without even bothering to listen to them. He’d give up and accept that they were finished sooner or later. Calling him back would only offer him false hope. “And my sex life really isn’t any of your business.” She stabbed a finger at Mischa. “You better not try to read my mind, either!”
“I wouldn’t,” Mischa said, indignant. “I’d never violate your privacy like that.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Ugh. You’re such a Girl Scout. I’d totally violate her privacy like that. In fact…”
Violet squealed as Harper latched onto her wrist with a freaking Kung Fu grip. She tried to pull away, but Harper was freakishly strong for such a tiny woman—and she was obviously accustomed to holding onto people who wanted to escape her and her visions, because her hold was like a manacle.
After a moment—when the vision subsided, Violet assumed—Harper let go of Violet and slumped back in her chair. She fanned her cheeks, which were now flaming red. God only knows how much she’d seen of what Violet and Nikolai had done the previous night.
“Wow,” Harper said on a gusty sigh. “That was…wow. I think I need a cigarette.”
“You don’t smoke,” Mischa said.
Harper fanned her face some more. “I might start after that. Way to go, Vi! I’m proud of you. When you let loose, you really let loose.”
> Harper glanced at Mischa, held her hands apart about ten inches and mouthed, “His dick is huge!”
Mischa let out a laugh/cough combo that kind of sounded like a barking seal before clearing her throat and offering Violet a sympathetic, mumbled, “Sorry.”
Violet was stuck in emotional limbo somewhere between embarrassed by what Harper had seen, furious about the invasion of privacy, and confused as to how this conversation had even started at all. In the end, all she was able to do was grumble, while pointing accusingly at Harper, “You’re horrible.”
Harper nodded, looking vaguely apologetic. But only vaguely. “Yeah,” she admitted with a shrug. “I get that a lot.”
Riddick chose to make an appearance at that point, mumbling a half-hearted greeting to Violet and Mischa, and once again giving his wife a kiss like he’d been off to war and hadn’t seen her for the past five years.
When he finally took his seat next to Harper, she didn’t even bother to whisper when she said, “You. Me. Naked. As soon this meeting is over, yeah?”
His grin was answer enough.
Benny came skidding in—disheveled and frantic looking—like Kramer in Seinfeld. He threw himself into a chair on the other side of Violet and blew out a deep sigh. “Sorry I’m late, guys. I was with Angela. You wouldn’t believe what she suggested we do this morning—”
Mischa held up her hand. “I’m going to have to stop you there, Benny.”
“But I—”
“No, I wasn’t kidding. If you continue with that sentence, I’m going to have to stop you.”
It was clear from her tone that “stop you” implied violence of some sort. Violet wasn’t usually onboard for violence, but in this case, it was probably warranted.
Mischa narrowed her eyes on him until he gulped and said, “Yeah, yeah. I get it. It wasn’t nothing important anyhow.”
Then he glanced at Violet and tipped his head to one side like a confused puppy. “You look different.”
And just like when she’d punched Darren in the face at her sister’s wedding, Violet felt something in her brain snap, and she blurted, “I had sex, alright? Lots and lots of hot, dirty, wet, thrusting, sex in every room of my apartment, OK? I almost couldn’t walk this morning because, yes, Harper, it’s huge, alright? Is that what you all wanted to hear? Huh? Is that good enough for you all?”
Benny blinked owlishly at her. “I was gonna say that your hair looks nice like that is all,” he said in a small voice.
She glanced over at Riddick, who held up his hands in surrender and said, “Hey, I don’t have a dog in the race. I couldn’t possibly care less who you’re banging. But if it helps, the Russian is probably a step up from the accountant.”
“Actuary,” Mischa corrected.
Riddick grimaced. “Like that’s any better.”
In her head, Violet was screaming. But she was guessing that screaming at this particular crew wouldn’t do her any good, so instead, she let her forehead drop to the conference room table with a thunk.
Mischa rubbed a hand up and down Violet’s back soothingly. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Good sex is nothing to be ashamed of. It was good, right?”
“Yes,” Harper answered.
Violet lifted her head and glared at her.
Harper almost sounded sincere when she apologized that time.
“Yes, it was…” Mind-blowing? Earth-shattering? Everything I never knew I needed in my life? “…good. But can we change the topic, please? I’m not exactly comfortable talking about my sex life in a business meeting.”
“Oh, come on,” Harper whined. “Don’t be such a poop.”
Riddick laid his hand over his wife’s on the table. “Please, babe. For the love of God, let her be a poop, because as much as she doesn’t want to talk about her sex life, I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Fine,” Harper said on a gusty sigh. “Be a lady-boner killer. I’m still happy for you, Vi, even if you are absolutely zero fun.”
Violet was happy for herself, too. She was just also in a perpetual state of panic, wondering when this newfound joy was going to be ripped away from her. She hated to be negative, but…well, what proof did she really have that things in her life could go any way but negative?
“Why don’t you tell her where her case stands?” Mischa suggested.
Harper sat up straighter and folded her hands together, obviously shifting from curious, intrusive friend mode into professional detective mode. “Well, as part of the investigation, Hunter provided us with information on all of your paranormal patients.” When Violet’s spine stiffened, Harper hastened to add, “Nothing that would violate their patient rights. Just some general questions about their whereabouts during the times when you were shot at, and when your apartment was vandalized. Your name was never mentioned in any of the conversations. We just said there’d been some crime in their neighborhoods during those times, and that we were just trying to find anyone who’d seen anything.”
She relaxed a bit. She hated the idea of her patients thinking she suspected them of any wrongdoing. Even if they were, well, totally capable of wrongdoing, that’d be a huge blow to the trust they put in her as a therapist. “And did they all check out?”
“I think check out,” Harper said, making finger quotes, “would be a gross overstatement. Right, Benny?”
Benny shook his head, his expression somewhere between amused and horrified. “Dude, your patients are fucked up.”
He didn’t know the half of it. “Maybe, but are any of them trying to kill me?”
Benny shook his head. “Nah. They all had good alibis for the times in question. Except for one dude, and judging by how I had to talk to him through the peephole in his front door next to a pile of rotting mail that looked like it hadn’t been taken in for the past decade or so, I’m guessing he’s not our man, either.”
Mr. Alvarez, Violet knew. An agoraphobia sufferer who hadn’t left his home since vampires were outed. He was sure that if he left his home, he’d be met with a pitchfork mob waiting to burn him alive. And since that exact same thing happened to him back in Salem in 1692, when he’d been accused of witchcraft, Violet couldn’t really say she blamed him.
But Mr. Alvarez was a good guy. He’d never expressed anything other than gratitude towards her, and had always been very appreciative of her for agreeing to handle their sessions through video conferencing. And he was making good progress. She imagined she’d eventually even be able to convince him to leave his home if he kept up with his sessions. He had no motive to try to kill her, nor did he have the access to the outside world required to kill her.
It was both a blessing and a curse to realize that none of her patients were suspects. One the one hand, her patients weren’t trying to kill her, so…woo hoo! But on the other hand, it would be a huge relief to have at least one viable suspect.
“Hunter also checked out vampires the Council had previous problems with,” Harper went on. “And by problems, we of course mean anyone who was likely to go all murder-y and rage-y for no apparent reason. Unfortunately, he came up empty on that front, too.”
Well…hell. “So, what now?”
Harper leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Like I said, I’ve got Seven and Lucas running down one last lead. I’ll tell you about it if they find anything. But for right now, I don’t want you to worry about it, OK?”
She swallowed hard. It was kind of hard not to worry at the moment. Thank God she had Nikolai watching her back. And her front. And pretty much every part of her after last night.
Harper smirked at her. “Flashbacks, huh? The flushed cheeks are a dead giveaway.”
Benny chuckled. “Yeah, you look like you just got a Silkwood shower.”
When everyone stared blankly at him, he hastened to add, “You know, Silkwood. Meryl Streep? Cher? Working in the power plant and getting cooked by radiation? They’d put ‘em in the shower and scrub their skin off to get rid of it?”
One loaded pa
use later, he grumbled, “Oh, never mind. You kids today just got no culture.”
“Anyhoo,” Harper said after another long beat. “Vi, I need you to stick close to Nikolai. Now that we’ve exhausted our legal means of investigating this thing, we’re going to go on the dark net for the paranormal community and see if we can pick up any chatter about who might have it in for you.”
Violet blinked, nonplussed. “There’s a dark net for the paranormal community?”
“There’s a dark net for everything,” Mischa said. Then she cracked her knuckles and added, “But no one can hide from me. If they’ve left a cyber trail, I can find it.”
Of that Violet had no doubt. There was a reason Mischa was the official enforcer for the vampire council. Well, several, really.
First of all, Mischa was the second most powerful vampire in the country, possibly even the world. Second of all, she was a certified genius, and her years as a watcher with Sentry had given her problem-solving and tracking skills few people in the world could match. And finally, when she went after something or someone, Mischa was a relentless bitch who wouldn’t stop until she got exactly what she wanted.
And who didn’t want to be friends with a relentless bitch who’d hack the paranormal dark net and track down a would-be killer for her?
“Of course, if that doesn’t work, you could make yourself bait and wander around town after dark, hoping someone will take a shot at you,” Riddick said in a tone so dry it made Violet crave a tall glass of ice water just contemplating it.
Harper turned a dark scowl on her husband. “One time. It was one time that I played bait to lure out a serial killer, and you’re just never going to let it go, are you?”
Riddick didn’t even flinch like Violet would’ve under the power of Harper’s scowl as he crossed his arms over his chest and said, “No.”
“And it worked,” Harper grumbled. “But you always leave that part out.”
“If by work,” he said, making finger quotes, “you mean you flushed him out of hiding and ended up chained to his basement floor, well, then, sure, I guess it technically worked.”
Harper Hall Investigations Complete Series Page 92
