by Elisa Adams
She got her answer when she felt something soft brush across her legs. She flinched. “What’s that?”
He held the other stocking up in the air, waving it like a victory flag. “Would you rather I used something with a little more substance?”
“No,” she nearly yelled. He probably meant something leather. How could this possibly turn her on? So much for being a modern woman in control of her body and her choices. In a few short minutes, Royce had broken apart everything she thought she knew about herself and twisted her inside out.
He must have felt her unease, because he nudged her legs apart and ran the tips of his fingers over her pussy. “So wet. I need to taste you.” She felt his hot breath against her sensitive skin just before his tongue ran the length of her slit, from anus to clit. Already beyond aroused, she cried out as his tongue swirled over her clit. She arched her back, thrusting her pussy closer to his mouth, but he pushed her back down to the mattress and pulled his mouth away. “Relax. I can’t have you coming too quickly.”
She whimpered. “Why not?”
“You’re asking entirely too many questions. No more. Keep your mouth shut and enjoy.”
He spread her legs further apart, pushing his fingers between her thighs. He dipped a finger into her cunt, stroking in and out a few times before withdrawing. And then she felt the soft slap of his hand against her ass. She stiffened. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“No talking, remember?”
“But—”
She snapped her mouth shut as his hand descended on her ass again, three times, each spanking a little harder than the last. She shifted, her pussy growing wetter by the second.
“Royce.” She mentally chastised herself when his name came out as no more than a moan. She wasn’t supposed to get turned on from spanking. Strong women didn’t let men take control, didn’t let them do things like this. Yet, she couldn’t remember ever being this wet. She felt like she could come just from the light sting of his palm against her skin. “I’m not into play this rough.”
He laughed, his fingers dipping into her cunt and his thumb circling her clit. “Your body says otherwise.” Intense pressure built inside her, but just as she felt the first stirrings of orgasm, he pulled back again.
He brought his palm down on her three more times, leaving tingling skin as he lifted his hand away. She moaned and writhed against the bed, wishing she had her hands free so she could make herself come. He didn’t seem to be in any rush, and she might explode if she waited too much longer. All those times she’d wondered what women saw in this kind of sex…now she knew the truth. Thinking about being tied up and spanked, and actually being in the situation were two very different things. She loved every second.
This time when he spanked her, he thrust his fingers inside her at the same time. Hard. His thumb circled her clit again and she bit her lip to hold back a cry. It felt so amazing. She couldn’t hold it back much longer, yet he’d told her he didn’t want her to come. When he pressed his thumb down on her clit, he whispered, “Come for me, kitty.”
Her orgasm took her with such force it knocked the breath from her lungs. She struggled to breathe, struggled to stay conscious as spasms seized her body. When he finally backed away, she felt like she was floating on a cloud, somewhere where nothing mattered but how she felt and what he could do to her. She never wanted to come down.
His hand massaging her ass brought her back to reality and she shuddered at the touch. She glanced over her shoulder and found him looking down at her with something that looked a lot like tenderness. Her heart pounded as he smiled. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured as he stood and stripped off his jeans and boxers.
His words shook her more than they had the right to. Why would he be so nice to her? This was only about sex, right? Somewhere along the way, the line between sex and something more had blurred. He stood over her, looking nervous and unsure and very aroused. The urge to pull him close, front to front, overwhelmed her. “Untie me.”
He started to shake his head, but she cut him off.
“Please, Royce. Untie me. I want to be able to hold you when you’re inside me.”
When he made no move to free her, she stretched her hands out and wrapped her fingers around the stocking, melting away the nylon straps with a flash of fire.
He barked a strained laugh. “You could have gotten out the whole time?”
She nodded.
“So why didn’t you?”
“I can’t explain it.” She rolled to her back and reached her arms out to him. “I didn’t want to.”
He joined her on the bed, fitting himself between her parted thighs. His cock slid along her pussy and she arched against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, the rush of emotions she felt scaring her. When had she started to care about him so much? It unnerved her to think that he might mean something to her beyond a quick fling or a business partner of sorts. She tried to tell herself she couldn’t let it happen, but she had a feeling she was too late. The fall had already begun, and it would be only a matter of time before… She shook her head, not willing to think such thoughts. Not yet. Not so soon. She broke the kiss to trail her lips across his jaw and down the side of his neck, delighting in the shiver she wrung from him.
“Is there anything that will hold you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
She hesitated before she answered. “Well, there are special cuffs and chains I’ve heard are made for those with more…power, but I think they’re really expensive.”
“It would be worth it.”
He meant more to her than she cared to admit. For now, she’d be content with holding him, letting him know through her actions that she needed him.
God. She needed him. She’d never needed anyone in her life, except for maybe Eric and Sam. But never anyone in this capacity. What was she going to do? She’d tried so hard to avoid anything that might complicate the job at hand, but she hadn’t banked on this.
That was all. She didn’t need to fall in love. Because with Royce, that wouldn’t happen.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, gazing down at her with worry in his eyes. “You seem far away.”
“Yeah. You didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you mean.”
“Good. Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yes.” The escaped before she could stop it. She rushed to cover it up. “But don’t get any ideas. Don’t think that’s going to happen every time.”
“Every time? There will be more times than this morning?” His lips curved into a slow smile. “I thought you didn’t even like me.”
“I don’t have to like you personally to like sex with you. We don’t have to get along to fu—”
He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, stopping the rest of her sentence. “Would it really be that bad to like me?”
She snorted noncommittally.
“Come on, Merida. Admit it. You like me.” To punctuate his request, he eased his cock into her soaked cunt and stroked in and out with maddening slowness.
Her breath caught. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I do. But just a little. Don’t go getting an inflated ego over it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He nuzzled his face against her throat. Just the touch of his lips against her skin made her shiver. “We don’t have to put boundaries on what we have. We both know we’re not going to get along a hundred percent of the time. We also know we’re good together, and I’m not talking about just the sex. Why don’t we just see where this takes us, and not put on any limitations?”
“Okay.”
His strokes quickened, his breathing growing more labored. “You feel so incredible around me. I don’t think I can hold back much longer.”
“So don’t.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and dug in with her heels, pulling him tighter against her. Four thrusts later, she felt his body tighten as he came with a long, drawn-out moan. When he collapsed on top of her, she stroked his back and kis
sed his shoulder.
After a few minutes, Royce rolled over, tucking her against his side and pulling the sheet over them. His eyes were closed when she glanced up, his mouth set in a satisfied smile. “How are you doing?”
His eyelids drifted open. “Great. Tired, but great.”
He seemed ready to drift off to sleep, but she didn’t want to lose the tentative connection they’d formed. Not yet.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She nipped at the stubble on his chin. “What’s your real name?”
He frowned. “What? You know my name.”
“Not the name on your birth certificate. Obviously, you weren’t born Royce.”
He let out a long sigh and shook his head. “Where did this come from?”
She laughed. “Haven’t you ever heard the saying about curious cats?”
“And what happens to the curious cat in the saying?”
She rolled her eyes. “It dies. But satisfaction brings it back.”
“Sweetheart, if you aren’t satisfied by now there’s something seriously wrong with you.”
“Believe me. I’m satisfied.” She pinched his side with her nails and he grimaced. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. I want to know about you.”
“Okay, okay. Fine. It’s not the most interesting story, though. Renaldo Alberto Cardoso is the name my mother gave me when I was born. Royce…” his voice trailed off for a little while and he looked away before finishing. “An old lover I had in Europe years ago told me I look like a Royce. The nickname stuck. I’ve used it off and on over the years.”
She leaned over him and rested her chin on his chest, cocking her head to the side as she studied his face. “Royce, huh? You don’t really look like a Royce to me. It seems too stuck-up. I see you with something less pretentious, like Brick or Snake.”
He burst out laughing and tugged at one of her curls. “Snake? I’ll have to keep that in mind the next time I’m in need of a name change. You’ve got to admit, though, Royce is a lot better than Renaldo.”
“You’ve got a point there.” She rested her head back on his chest, tracing his abs with her fingertips. “Where did you meet Wil?”
“I’ve known him for too many years to count. We knew each other, years ago, back in Europe. We’re a lot alike in some ways.”
“You don’t seem that much alike to me.”
He smiled and kissed the top of her head. The tenderness of his actions struck her and she had to tamp down the fluttering in her heart. “We have our differences. He’s a lot more settled than I am.”
“I’ve noticed. The whole house and job thing kind of clued me in.”
“Hey! I work.”
“Yeah, at nothing.”
He shook his head. “I don’t like to stay in once place for long. I think Wil’s sick of moving around. Me, I couldn’t handle a small town like this. I prefer the city. It’s so much easier to blend in with the crowd.”
Blend? Was he kidding? “A six-foot-four, two-hundred-forty pound blond guy is a little hard to miss anywhere.”
An uncomfortable thought hit her and she stopped asking questions. Why was she so anxious to learn about his life? Her curiosity, in this situation, could signify trouble. Trouble of the soon-to-be broken heart kind—something she refused to set herself up for.
She started to doze off in his arms, half-hoping she wouldn’t fall in love with him. That would be just plain crazy, and quite possibly the stupidest thing she’d ever done.
Chapter Ten
Merida tried to curl up in Royce’s arms and sleep, but she only accomplished a lot of tossing and turning. After a frustrating half hour of listening to Royce breathe as he slept deeply, she heaved herself out of bed, got dressed, and wandered downstairs. He might need sleep, but she needed breakfast. And coffee. Lots of it, if she planned to make it through the day.
As she reached the bottom of the back stairs, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit her hard. Her stomach clenched with longing. Did she smell bacon? She dug her fingers into her arm, her nails sharply biting the skin. Nope, not dreaming. Then who…?
She turned the corner into the darkened kitchen. The curtains had been drawn closed over the windows, the only light coming from the globe above the sink. Wil stood by the stove. She leaned against the doorframe and wondered if all the sex with Royce had finally turned her brain to much. Was she hallucinating?
“Good morning,” he said before she had a chance to speak.
“How did you know I was in the room?”
“Your presence. It’s strong.” He turned and smiled at her, and for the first time she saw him as something other than a grump. “I hope you like bacon and eggs.”
“Scrambled or fried eggs?”
“Fried.”
She let out a deep sigh. “Perfect.”
“Sit down. This is just about ready.”
She took a seat at the table and Wil set a large stoneware mug in front of her. “Do you need milk or sugar?”
Okay. Someone had broken Royce’s friend. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He shrugged as he set a heaping plate of eggs and bacon in front of her. “Do you want toast?”
This had to be some kind of joke. Either that or she’d tripped and fallen into another dimension. “No, thanks. I’m all set. I have to ask. You didn’t poison this, did you?”
He laughed as he slid into the chair across from her. “Why would you ask that?”
“Gee, I wonder.” She gestured to the plate of food in front of her. It smelled delicious, but she wanted to know what had caused him to cook for her before she enjoyed it.
He, like Royce, seemed to be adept at reading her mind. “It’s going to get cold if you don’t eat. I’d imagine, after last night and then this morning, you must need to refuel.”
She snapped her gaze from the tempting food to Wil’s dark eyes. “What do you know about this morning?”
“Only that the two of you don’t feel the need to be quiet.”
Her face must have flushed, because he laughed. “No need to be embarrassed. I know that what you and Royce have is—”
She held up her hand to stop him before he went too far and assumed things that weren’t true. Mostly weren’t true, at least not while she was still in the denial stage. “We have nothing. This food smells great. Thanks.”
She picked up her fork and started to eat, doing her best to ignore Wil’s presence. He sat across from her, unmoving and unsmiling and making her want to strangle him. Halfway through the meal she couldn’t take the tense silence anymore. “Okay. What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“Face it. You’re a man. You wouldn’t have cooked me breakfast, especially since you don’t eat this kind of food, if you didn’t want something.”
“I don’t mind cooking. Really.”
She leaned on the table, eyebrows raised, and glared at him until he relented. “I cooked for you because I wanted to. And because I have something to run by you. I was hoping you’d be down here when I got home, but you and Royce were…busy and I had to do something to kill time before I fell asleep.”
She pushed the plate away, took a long sip of her coffee and leaned back in the chair. “What’s the problem?”
“I don’t know if it is a problem, but a gut feeling tells me it might be.”
She listened while he explained the conversation he’d had with Michelle earlier that morning. By the time he finished, her suspicions were raised. “Did you know about any of this sooner?”
He shook his head. “I’d never bothered to check.”
Meaning Michelle hadn’t been that important to him for him to learn even the little facts about her upbringing. Men. She sighed. Vampires. It seemed they were all alike. “Here’s a question for you. Michelle’s dad has been dead for years, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then if he sold out to a demon, the contract would have dissolved with his death.”
“Yeah, I
get that. But how do you explain what she told me?”
“Coincidence.” She shrugged and took another gulp of coffee, feeling the caffeine start to kick in. Another ten cups of this stuff and she’d be good to go. “That’s all I can offer you right now. Unless you think Michelle is the one who made the deal.”
Wil stood up and stretched before removing his tie and unbuttoning the first couple buttons of his navy blue dress shirt. “I doubt it. She thought her mother was nuts for even saying anything about the devil.”
She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn’t know if there was any truth to Wil’s theory about Michelle and her father, but she knew how to find out. She just had to get rid of a well-meaning but controlling vampire first. “You look tired. Maybe you should go to bed.”
“I’m going. I just wanted to run all this by you first.”
“I’m glad you did, but I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Goodnight,” she added as he left the kitchen. She heard his footsteps on the stairs a few seconds later and silently cursed him for not bothering to do the dishes. Men, no matter what their race, were all the same. She supposed she’d have to do them, but it would have to wait until later. She had her first semi-decent lead since arriving in Caswell, and she had no plans to let it slip away.
When she heard Wil’s door close she crept up the stairs and peeked into her bedroom. Royce lay flat on his back, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. Her fingers itched to trace the line of stubble along his jaw, her mouth ached to kiss his warm lips, his broad chest, his washboard abs, his—
“Stop it!” she whispered to herself. If she went any lower with her imaginary kisses, she’d never get her job done. Assured that he slept soundly, she walked into his room and rummaged through his black duffel bag until she found his car keys. He thought he could hide them from her. She would have laughed out loud at the idea if she hadn’t been afraid to wake up the bloodsuckers.
She picked up a navy blue zip front sweatshirt out of the bag and put it on, hoping it would help ward off some of the chill she knew she’d feel from the evil presence where the murders occurred. Five minutes later, she pulled Royce’s car out of the driveway and headed toward town.
