Eva's Last Dance

by Cooper-Posey, Tracy

  Copyright © Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Smashwords Edition

  About Eva’s Last Dance

  Nearly one hundred years after their last dance together Eva’s long lost love, Edward, makes contact again. Eva—lonely and a vampire now—can’t resist falling into his arm and under his erotic spell. She’ll do anything he asks of her.

  The spell is rudely interrupted by human demon hunter Ryan Jefferson, who is on the trail of an incubus. He sets out to seduce Eva properly in a searing night of dance and passion.

  This dance counts in more ways than one...

  __

  This is a short story. You could enjoy a long coffee and the story for dessert.

  WARNING: This story contains multiple and explicit MF sex scenes, including anal sex. Do not read this book if frank sexual language and sex scenes offend you

  No vampires were harmed in the making of this novel, but one gargoyle did met a dusty ending.

  Eva’s Last Dance is part of the Short Paranormals collection.

  Praise for Eva’s Last Dance

  Reviewer’s Top Pick, Night Owl Romance Reviews.

  A story of true love that never dies, a guilty little pleasure and a delightfully delicious scorcher! If I wasn't already a Teal/Tracy Uber fan, I would be now.- Book Junkie

  An endearing love story with mystery and lots of steamy bedroom scenes. The love that Eva and Ryan start to feel for each other is timeless. -Night Owl Romance Reviews

  This story I'll recommend to all my friends. If you want a read that's not the norm and totally engaging, then you need to read Eva's Last Dance. - Whipped Cream Erotic Romance Reviews

  A fantastic story that tugs at the heart-strings. I truly enjoyed this book. -I Do Not Want To Wait, I Want The Book Now.

  Chapter One

  Eva brushed her gloved hand down the length of her satin and velvet gown nervously and stepped out onto the roof, her heart pounding. At the other end of the roof, he was standing there waiting for her and she thought she might die.

  “Edward,” she whispered, coming to a halt.

  “Yes, it’s me.” He came toward her, holding out a blood-red rose. “I know it’s a shock but I can explain all that.” He handed her the rose. “Just as I know you can explain how you came to be here. Now.”

  He smiled just like she remembered, his blue eyes dancing, his easy smile lighting up his face. His blond hair was slicked back as always and he wore a white suit, just as she remembered too.

  “You don’t look any different.” Her voice was husky.

  “Neither do you.” He picked up her hand and drew her to the centre of the roof. “It’s not the Waldorf, but would you care to dance?”

  “I haven’t danced since…since then.” She looked around at the paper lanterns he had strung. “What about music?”

  He pulled a small remote control from his pocket and clicked it. “Modern living has some advantages,” he confessed. A Strauss waltz emerged from an MP3 player and speakers set up on a small table by the balustrade.

  Waltzes. She loved waltzes the best and he knew it. She melted into his arms and wished that she was able to cry, to give expression to the overwhelming joy of being nestled in Edward’s embrace once more. Soon she would have to find out how this miracle had happened. But not now. For now she would simply enjoy it.

  And dance. It had been such a long time.

  Once, long ago, she and Edward had danced every night, their bodies pressed against each other, their eyes locked, the knowledge of their future together written in each others’ gazes.

  She turned her head now to look him in the eye. “Edward.”

  He looked at her and she saw once again the gleam in his eyes. The dancing had often been their only way of expressing their physical needs for each other, that they would not be able to fulfill until their marriage. Now she saw and understood the lust in his eyes and welcomed it. There was no impediment. Her heart raced. As their steps slowed to a gentle swaying, his big hand gathered up the skirt of her gown, lifting it.

  His mouth captured her lips.

  She moaned as his tongue pushed into her mouth, rough and commanding. Fright tore through her. They would never have been this daring when they were first engaged. Their families would have been shocked and horrified at the public display. But her fright was edged with arousal that swiftly overcame the old barrier. She wanted more.

  Edward bent her over his arm, his hand sliding under her gown, past her stocking tops, to the tops of her thighs. His hand was cool but nevertheless, she found his touch made her tremble with anticipation. This was Edward, the man she had loved and thought she had lost.

  His lips trailed down her throat to kiss her breasts above the low décolletage of her gown and his hand pushed between her thighs. She was slick with moisture and bare of undergarments. She longed for him to thrust his hand—

  “Hey, asshole!”

  Edward turned his head around toward the access doorway, questing like a wolf surveys the landscape. It was as if he were using his other senses, not his eyes.

  A frisson of something other than sensual pleasure touched her, bringing Eva’s pleasure to a standstill.

  She tried to stand up, for there was a man on the roof a few paces from the door, wearing a three-quarter length coat against the April chill, his legs spread in an aggressive stance. He had black hair that looked like it was supposed to be short but needed cutting. It glinted blue in the soft lights. His dark eyes surveyed them with a world-weary expression and his sharp jaw was set at a sardonic angle. Worse, there was a double-barrel shotgun over one shoulder.

  Edward made a sound that was inhuman. A banshee howl. He dropped her.

  Eva fell flat on her ass as he turned and strode toward the stranger, careless of the gun he had over his shoulder.

  The man flipped the gun over and fired one barrel and Eva screamed as Edward clutched at his stomach with a shocked expression.

  “Surprise,” the stranger said. “Think I’d use normal pellets on an asshole like you? Salt bound with holy water, with my compliments.” He walked up to Edward, put a boot on his shoulder and shoved. Edward fell on his back.

  “What are you doing?” Eva cried, scrambling over to them.

  “Saving your ass, honey. Don’t get in the way.” The man reached under his coat and pulled out a black knife with a flat, wide blade. Edward lay clutching his stomach and gasping with inhuman, whimpering sounds.

  The man leaned toward him and thrust the knife into his heart.

  Eva screamed. She leapt on his back, reaching for the knife, moving as fast as she could. Before she could pluck it from Edward’s heart, he disappeared.

  She stared at the black, smoking outline where his body had been, disbelief crowding all thoughts from her head.

  That was when the man flipped her onto her back on the roof and straddled her, his black eyes glinting dangerously. “You’re a fucking vampire!” he railed.

  Ryan watched the delicate little blonde’s crystal blue eyes get very large. “How do you know that?” she whispered. “No humans—”

  “I just off’d an incubus. You think I don’t know about vampires?” he railed. “Question is, what did the thing want with you? They go after humans. Not your kind.”

  “You’re a hunter,” she said breathlessly, fear blooming in her eyes.

  “Relax.” He sat back on his heels. “I took vampires off my hit list five years ago. But that still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Edward…was an incubus?” She looked like she was about to burst into tears and Ryan put it together with an almost audible click. “Holy hell, they duped you, didn’t they? Who was Edward? An old boyfriend?” He got to his feet. Normally, he would have let her get up o
n her own but something about her dress—the olde worlde quaintness of it, the long gloves and the way her golden curls were piled on top of her head…or maybe it was just the way her big blue eyes were gazing at him with such desperate need for help and information—whatever, okay, all right, he was a weak-minded idiot—he picked her up around the waist and put her on her feet. And damn but his hands nearly met around her middle.

  And just for a second he flashed on a mental image of gripping her waist as he pounded his cock into her petite little package, making her scream his name.

  He stepped back, dropping his hands from her waist like she was a hot potato. Instead he picked up the shotgun and reloaded it, giving his suddenly shaking hands something to do.

  “Edward was my fiancé,” she said softly. “We were supposed to have married, May 1, 1912. I was to join him in New York and booked passage on the Titanic.” She looked up at Ryan with a small smile. “I was not one of the women who found an early seat on the lifeboats. But a man who found me as I was dying offered me an alternative and I took it. He made me into a vampire, which allowed me to survive the cold that night and pass as human until we arrived in New York on the Carpathia. I could not go to Edward after that. It was part of the price of becoming a vampire.”

  Ryan expected her blue eyes to swim with tears, until he remembered that vampires could not cry. He cleared his own throat. “What happened to him?” he asked.

  “He died in the great war,” she said softly. “A hero, they told me.” She looked over at the still-smoking outline of the incubus. “So when I got his note today, saying that he had returned and wanted to see me, I thought that perhaps he had found a way to live on, just as I had.”

  Ryan recalled the image he’d seen as he’d first stepped onto the roof—the demon’s lips on her breasts, his hands between her thighs, the gown hiked up around her hips. He realized his cock was straining against his pants, beating a steady tattoo that echoed in his temples. He was lusting after a vampire. Shit. Who’d have thought?

  He waved toward the blue satin dress she was wearing. It made her waist look tiny and her breasts look like they might spill out at any moment. The sleeves looked like they would fall from her arms if he gave them the slightest encouragement, further exposing her breasts. He already knew that beneath the long panels of the dress she wore delicate stockings that stopped just above her knees and nothing else.

  “Is this what you used to wear, then?”

  “Almost,” she said, with a small smile. “My momma would have spanked me for not wearing a corset, or…other items. But yes, this is what we wore then.” And she blushed.

  Ryan knew he was lost then. The blush did it. That and the dress that covered up far more than women exposed these days, yet did more to say “fuck me” than most porn. He was gone. Hook, line and sinker. He wanted to wrap himself around her delicate beauty and at the same time pin her to the wall and fuck her until those blue eyes hazed over with sensual repletion.

  “So the fucking bastard gives you one dance and you’re putty in his hands,” he ground out. “Didn’t you even stop to ask for his credentials?”

  “It was Edward. Why would I ask? And he danced with me. We always danced. We…” Her blush deepened and she dropped her gaze. “We danced instead of…” Then she lifted her head and looked him squarely in the eye. “We danced instead of sex. It was the way of it in those days, Mr.…”

  “Ryan,” he said stiffly, as ideas exploded in his mind. “Jesus Christ, you’re a virgin,” he said softly.

  “I most certainly am not,” she said stiffly. “I’ve been a vampire for a century, Mr. Ryan. I assure you, virginity is a technicality I left behind a long time ago.”

  “Just Ryan.” He held up a hand, frowning. “Technically speaking, you might still be. These things count in the demon world, let me tell you. I’m not talking about toys, or other vampires, or the loss of a hymen, if that’s what you mean.”

  Her chin remained up but her blush deepened and he knew he’d hit the mark. He put the shotgun down again, to make himself less threatening and dropped his hands to his sides. “Have you ever had sex with a human male?” he asked softly.

  She took a breath. “No,” she admitted.

  He nodded. “That’s what the incubus wanted—your virginity. They prey upon humans because they’re easy marks but finding virgins is becoming more and more difficult for them. But when they do, they get all the power that comes with that virgin’s blood. But a virgin vampire’s powers? Sex with you would give them power beyond belief. No wonder they went to such effort to fool you.”

  She backed up and sat quickly in the fold-up chair next to the table, like the strength had suddenly run out of her legs. “I had no idea.”

  “There’s a war on,” he said dryly. “Didn’t they warn you about this stuff?”

  “I’ve never… I didn’t tell anyone.”

  Ryan knew he had to give her the rest of it. “They’re going to keep coming at you, you know.”

  Her blue eyes looked up at him helplessly.

  “They’re going to keep coming at you until you do something about it,” he finished harshly.

  “What do I do?” she whispered.

  His cock throbbed. “Have sex with a human,” he said. He fought for a casual, offhand tone. “I’m willing to help out, if you want.”

  Eva’s heart jumped. “Have sex with you?” she said, her lips stiff. She pressed her knees together under the dress. “Should I just bend over the table, Mr.—Ryan?”

  His brow lifted. “Yeah, that’d be one way to do it. Think I’ve got a bit more finesse than that, though.” He shrugged out of the coat and shivered a bit. “Wish I had your internal furnace, sometimes.” Under the coat, he was wearing a normal-looking collar shirt in a dark color and a pair of indigo jeans that had a small rip at the knee. She had a feeling that the rip wasn’t for effect.

  “You live a hard life, don’t you?” she murmured.

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “Under the circumstances, you’d better tell me your name,” he said.

  “Eva.”

  “No last name?”

  “You know we don’t use them. Not unless they bestow one upon us.”

  “They haven’t got around to giving you one yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  He wandered over to the MP3 player and was studying the controls. Then he slid his forefinger over the surface of the player and the music picked up in volume. “Waltzes. I can handle that.” He came back to where she sat clutching her knees, bowed low and offered his hand. “May I have this dance?”

  She bit her lip. “You know how to dance?”

  “Just go with it, huh?” he growled and tugged on her hand.

  She let him pull her to her feet. He slid his hand around her waist, picked up her right hand and held it out. He smoothly glided her into a Viennese waltz. Eva clutched at his shoulder and felt warm, lean hard muscle under the cotton shirt. She let herself relax into the dance. They spoke of never forgetting how to ride a bike. Dancing was the same. You never forgot the steps, once you learned how. It was the kiss of an old lover.

  She sighed. “Where did you learn how to dance so well, Ryan? It is not something I would have expected of…” She hesitated.

  “Of a bum like me?” he asked.

  “I was going to say ‘a human like you’. Men these days do not learn to dance. It’s not something they consider necessary. Bumping and grinding is usually enough.” She smiled. “And usually, I would agree.”

  He grinned and the brooding air about him vanished for a moment, catching her breath. She saw another Ryan. One who might have been—a man who life had not sent chasing demons but laughing and finding joy, instead. Then his grin faded. “I was married once,” he said. “And she loved to dance. So I learned.” He reached up and brushed the hair from her forehead. “I’m glad I did, now.”

  “What happened to her?” Eva asked softly, seeing o
ld hurt in his eyes.

  “A demon got her. Took me two years to catch up with the bastard but I found him.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, I learned well enough to know that what we’re doing isn’t proper dancing. Not really.”

  “It’s not?” she asked and held her breath, because she knew what he was talking about.

  His hand on her waist slid around to rest on her ass and pull her closer to him, until their hips collided. She gasped at the contact.

  “That’s better,” he said softly, his gaze not letting hers go.

  She could feel his cock between them. Hard, erect. Demanding. Her heart thudded in her chest. “Ryan—”

  “Shhh….” He shook his head. “Just dance.”

  They danced. Around in great circles and smaller ones. He whirled her, his body melded against hers, growing warmer as they moved, growing more familiar, more comfortable. His cock continued to throb, sending her the undeniable message of want and lust.

  When did their arms move around each other instead of the proper positioning for a waltz? She didn’t know. She wasn’t aware of it. She found Ryan’s fingers buried in her hair, hair pins scattering under their feet, her hair loose and brushing her elbows. That was when she realized her gloves had gone. Dimly, she recalled Ryan peeling them from her arms, as he turned her about their dance floor.

  “Eva,” he murmured and she lifted her head to meet his lips, knowing what he sought. She was eager for his kiss now and welcomed it. Her breasts ached inside their low bodice in a way they never had for Edward. Ryan’s full lips slanted over hers, his hand on the back of her head as he tasted her. His tongue circled her lips, touched her teeth, even nudged her retracted incisors and he did not recoil. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and let it go with a groan. “Like honey,” he murmured, then covered her mouth with his lips and thrust his tongue deep inside.