by A. C. Mason
She smiled.
A hint of peach rippled through the scent of her excitement, as his fingers met the seam of her inner leg.
Both her hands clutched the sheet. “Revisit.”
Not so easy, receiving. “I think we are now at the stage where I am to withhold and occasionally give you what you desire.” He grinned.
The door opened and closed. Mr. Tanner took his leave.
They were alone.
“Because I enjoy you so much, this will be very difficult for me, as I want to give you all the pleasure you seek.” He kneaded the skin beneath his hands next to her inner thigh. “I will try and do justice to the torturous job you did on me.”
“Revenge, is it?”
“Never. I only wish to make you feel as alive as you do me.” He brushed the curls of her sex with the tips of his fingers.
She pressed her pelvis forward. “Remain.” The inner muscles of her thigh quivered.
“I don’t know if I should.” He trailed his touch away.
“Shall I beg?” She rested her hand on his forearm.
“Never, beaute. I shall always aim to please you.”
Her dark brown eyes met his gaze. “Vaihan, explain the restrictions between us physically.”
Limitations. Pain gripped his heart. He stepped back. Of course, all the things she could share with a man would lie between them. Despite the restrictions, he’d worked to perfect his ability to satisfy a human female’s sexual needs, but what lacked always created a barrier.
“Please, don’t shut down on me.” Leera grabbed his hand, tugging him toward her. “I want to understand.” Guiding his hand between her thighs, she pushed the fabric further away, revealing the shimmering bronze folds and pink inner lips. She offered herself to him in this way to keep him connected.
His heart pounded. Beneath his fingers she was slick.
Breathing in quick shallow breaths, she covered his hand with hers and pressed his fingers to her tender flesh. “Please, remain.” She settled back.
This hadn’t been his last point of contact–not that he’d make note of it, if she elevated the intimacy. He gained more of what he wanted. Her. He smiled then traced her slick outer labia. “Like this?”
“Yes.” She forced her sex into his touch.
“Very well.” He massaged her pulsating nub. “My fluids cannot have contact with any open part of your body. My preference is at all, but no more than tiny amounts at a time.” Slipping his caress to the swell of moisture, he smeared her need all over her folds.
“Good.” She thrust her bottom forward.
What did she mean, good? He went from worrying she would be upset to wondering why she didn’t want his fluids to touch her. “How?”
She lowered her brow. “I’d been worried I couldn’t put your cock in my mouth.”
Her full lips wrapped around him. Mmm. He shook the image away. Maybe he hadn’t been clear. “You can’t.”
“What are you talking about? You just said no contact with your body fluid, so I can lick and suck it until precum–fluid finds its way to the tip.”
If something happened to her because he lost control, he wouldn’t forgive himself. “It’s far too risky.”
“The same would go for unprotected intercourse.” She gasped. “We’ll just have to find ways to manage.”
Most women freaked at the idea, and she was figuring out ways to work around it for bare contact. Not since his mortal life had he been inside a woman with nothing between them. At least, not a woman he intended to have live past the encounter. Precum collected at the tip of his cock. He brushed her clit with his index finger.
She jerked forward. “Harder.”
The idea of coming inside her with protection on made him too anxious. And was not something he intended to do. Even with double or triple prophylactics. What if all the condoms broke? With his luck, some type of a one in two billion scenario would occur.
The risk to her was too great. “Not possible.”
Leera slid her hand inside his robe, inching to the ridges of his scars and grazed them. “Inevitable.” She pressed his fingers down, into her wet opening.
Tight. Her inner walls stretched around his intrusion, as he kissed her collarbone, he pushed two fingers inside her.
“Harder.” She scraped his scar with her nails.
He groaned. He’d be damned if he’d stop. He wanted her. Every part of her to respond to him. To be his. How primal and instinctual. And he didn’t care if it made him weak. He withdrew then thrust a third finger in, and pressing his thumb to her clit, circling.
She lowered the sheet, exposing her full breasts. Dark chocolate areolas with centered peaks. Freely, she offered herself to him. Unlike any other woman. As he pumped his fingers in and out, he skimmed over a bud with his lips. Wax, peach and her sex filled his breath. He pressed his stiff cock to her thigh.
“Vaihan.” With her plump lips, she met his chest then scratched his flesh using her teeth.
The coolness of her skin washed over him. The urge gripped him. He fought the intense impulse to consume her. The room closed in around him as he plunged his fingers inside her folds. Her juices ran onto his palm. Jaw clenched, he wanted to see to her fulfillment.
“Yes, Leera?” He sped the inner stroking of her canal.
She whimpered. Her fluid ran down his forearm.
Wound tight, his core quivered with the desire to bite into the tender flesh. The push-pull of having a woman in his arms twisted him. But he would see to her needs–to her release. He had to.
“Stop.”
He froze. Barely able to keep it together, he held his breath. Had he hurt her?
“Please pull out.” Her voice was barely audible.
He relaxed his fingers and withdrew them then straightened upright. Face turned from him, she covered her nudity.
“Did I injure you?” Fear lodged in his throat, and he swallowed it back.
“No. I’m sorry... I can’t believe I-I–” She hopped off with a sheet around her, housecoat in hand. “I’m going to go get dressed and then I’d like you to take me home. Okay?”
How badly had he screwed this up, if she wanted to go home?
“Sure.” He wouldn’t push her. Not when he’d let things go too far, too fast, and she wasn’t ready.
Chapter 16
Rowley shifted in his driver’s seat. A stream of staggering females exited the z-luv club in an old Victorian brownstone. He bet the people who’d built these places couldn’t have imagined in their wildest of dreams what the house would be used for. The women’s glossy eyes gleamed in the night as they stepped on the porch greeting the costumers. If he couldn’t get Leera to see the light about Vaihan, this would be her. These women were better off dead than in the state they were in. The addiction turned them into demons.
“You’d better not fuck this up, McKie.” The Fed talked too much.
“If this creature can give me the materials I need, it and I will be the best of pals.” In his day-to-day life, he had no reason to pretend. “You, Mr. DeGruis, need to get me the name of the individual who ran over Leera Waltz’s husband.” The extra job he was asking him to take on would have a price. If he could help it, Rowley would be long gone before the man could come collecting.
“Wasn’t the case a hit and run?” DeGruis slid back into the passenger seat.
“Perhaps. Except that someone has contacted Ms. Waltz claiming they were the driver. So, either the person is a nut job playing a sick game with a grieving woman, or maybe the police report is a lie. Another option is, getting away with the crime has left the driver with a guilty conscience, but someone knows something.” If the person was a nut, he’d picked the wrong woman to mess with, and Rowley would make sure the individual paid. “With all the dignitaries living in the demilitarized perimeter, I wouldn’t put it past the government to lie to the public or the victim’s family.”
“I’ll look into the matter and see what I can dig up.”
/> Rowley met Devin’s gaze in the rearview mirror. He sat in the backseat. Could the government know they had pushed Jean into the street? He needed to know if the crime could be pinned on them.
Rowley turned off the engine and stepped out into the night. The deserted street was unplowed. Clientele didn’t come in their own vehicles. Most paid a taxi service to drop them off and pick them up at the end of the night.
Devin and the Fed walked a few steps behind.
The women swayed their hips as they approached, working their bodies hard to close a sale.
A tall blonde leaned into him and glided her hand downward, slipping it between the buttons of his wool coat. Practiced at going for the goods.
She pressed her lips to his ear. “Got a girl?”
Interesting way of approaching him. “I do.” Not the typical sales tactic.
“I can give you all the things she’s too repressed to share with you. And you can call me her name.”
He scuffed off a laugh. “I highly doubt that.” The words probably appealed to a great many married men with wives not holding up their own in bed. The bedroom part of his relationship with Lee-lee wasn’t one he worried about. The emotional one was another matter.
“You want to fuck my ass.”
That definitely wasn’t a hang up for Lee-lee. “Sorry, I don’t fuck corpses and you are already dead.” Rowley withdrew her hand from his coat.
She blinked.
Mr. DeGruis held the door open, waiting from him, and Rowley entered.
A man in a high backed gothic chair had a woman on her knees performing oral sex.
He followed a few steps behind DeGruis, into a study. A brown briefcase with an upright handle sat at the center of a partner’s desk.
In the dark back corner, a figure shifted. “Everything you need is in the briefcase,” it said. “All the materials I used are all common in indoor public places and will take a while for the authorities to distinguish between the bomb material and pieces supposed to be there. If you can set it near a kitchen or heating room, even better, which will at first make it look like a malfunction. To help you, I didn’t sign the bomb.”
“Radeo will be the one to gather all the pieces you need for the main event. You’ll need to come by and pick up the items once a week starting on Fridays.” The Fed was grating on his nerves.
“Devin”–Rowley pointed to his right hand man–“will be doing the pickup. Not me.”
“That’s not what we agreed to.” The undead leaned forward. Its face had a long scar.
“It’s Devin, or the deal’s off. You two figure out if we do business, then call me.” Rowley gestured for Devin, picked up the briefcase and headed toward the door.
Footsteps followed a few steps behind, as he exited the building. The blonde’s eyes met his and darted away. What could he say? The truth was painful.
He slid into the car.
“Are we just going to leave the Fed here?” Devin said as he got in and shut the door.
Why not? “He seemed in his element to me.”
How the fuck was he going to fix things with Lee-lee? With a huff, he settled into his seat.
“Just go by and see her,” Devin said.
“Who?”
“The tooth fairy.” He tapped his shoulder. “Leera.”
That obvious. “I need to give her space. Things got intense the other day.” So he was putting it lightly. He hadn’t needed to take things where he did. But he couldn’t help himself from taking the little extra. The place she wasn’t ready to go.
“What are you afraid of?” Devin turned toward him.
He’d fucked things up royally. The truth was out and it sucked. “That she hates me.” He was a bastard, and she knew just how much of one he really was.
“At least that’s something, isn’t it? Besides, I doubt her emotions are clear right now. From what you’ve told me, you promised her your dark side wouldn’t hurt her and she discovered it already had.”
Not far off the truth. Devin was much more emotionally grounded than he was, the kind of partner who was in touch with a significant other’s feelings. A skill Rowley lacked and Leera needed.
“She married a man who adored her to hurt you and it did. I’d say you’re tied at this point. How do you want things to go this time?”
“Don’t forget, I killed Jean.” He pointed at his chest. One more way he’d hurt her.
“Actually, I’m the one who pushed him onto the street. However, that wasn’t about her, it was business. I suppose Jean’s snooping had everything to do with the man knowing what you meant to his wife, but it couldn’t be helped.”
Or could it? Rowley had tasted the man’s wife in plain sight. Taunting Jean at Christmas under the mistletoe, he’d French kissed her. At Peter’s birthday, he’d had his hands all over her as she danced with him. Though she’d pushed him away, he’d felt the heat in her lips and body. Best if he conducted this talk with her face to face. How else would he find out the why to her sudden disappearing act? Could the undead vulture circling her be the reason? He needed to find a way to provide her the emotional connection, the thing he wasn’t capable of.
And he knew just the man for the job.
In the next few days, he’d go over and see her. “Your point is noted, and I will try to see her soon. Happy?”
“Very.” Devin nodded.
Right now, other matters needed to be dealt with. “Wyatt needs to be disposed of. I can’t have a man with beliefs like his tangled up with us. The undead are the problem, not the living.”
“I’m already on it. I could tell by the look in your eyes. After he saw Leera, he’d become too much of a liability to try to get to you, through her.”
What would he do without Devin to look out for him? Maybe Devin could help him in other ways. In a way that would help him keep his Lee-lee.
Chapter 17
Leera took a deep breath, body still tingling at the edge of release, opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
Vaihan leaned against the wall, head down. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his dimple appearing as his face lit up.
Melting her. Her legs wobbled, but she put one foot in front of the other. Why had she pushed herself? She needed this, him. But she couldn’t let go, knowing this was all a deception. Not only on her part, but his too. The hard buds of her nipples pressed to the lace of her bra, coaxing wetness between her thighs. The warmth of his fingers still lingered inside her. He wasn’t even touching her. She squeezed her inner muscles, which forced juices to her panties.
He held the car door open for her. The towering feeling of him as she passed sent shivers up her spine. She slid into the seat, put her seatbelt on and clutched her bag on her lap. Tears clouded her vision. She wouldn’t fall to pieces and force him to comfort her.
Snow covered the ground and trees. Light reflected off the crystals, glistening.
Vaihan sat next to her, pulled the door closed and started the car.
She tugged the seat belt strap then yanked.
He pushed the lock button for the door. “May I?”
Could she bear his touch so close? She lifted her arms, angled herself away. Rose petals were scattered on the pathway.
A surge of heat rushed through her as he leaned over and tugged her seatbelt strap.
“Thank you.” His stare lingered on her then he hit the lock car door button and pulled onto the road.
Tension lay heavy. But what could she say without blowing her cover...mission... whatever the hell Barton had her doing to save Peter? What she wanted more than anything was for the panicked feeling inside her to go away. Somehow, she knew surrendering to Vaihan would create a bond. A connection based on lies. The physical exchanges brought her feelings of belonging and closeness. Were the sensations real or perceived? She wanted Vaihan to want her.
Vaihan’s first concern when she’d asked him to stop was whether he’d hurt her. At this moment, she was wounding him. Yet, she couldn’t brin
g herself to end his suffering.
Streetlights reflected off the snow shimmering in the night. The river lay still, and was eerie. Steam hovered above the black water.
At the red light, he slowed to a stop and glanced at her. The signal turned green. He made a left.
Rows of homes lined both sides of the roadway. What foolishness she had put herself and him through tonight. What could she say to escape and not make things worse? He pulled the car up behind hers and turned the engine off.
The sweetness of wood and the warmth of coriander filled her breath. “No need to walk me to the door, I can manage.” She forced a smile to her lips. “I’ll call you in a few days.”
“Leera.”
When he said her name in that very deep tone, her insides turned to mush.
He exhaled deeply. “Please...”
The pleading in his voice shot to her heart. He wasn’t going to let her go without a reason for how things had ended tonight.
“If I did something wrong, I need to know.” He fixed his gaze straight ahead, and his chest rose and fell in a sigh. “Did I hurt you?” Though his words spoke of vulnerability, his determination gave them strength.
She tightened her grip on her handbag. A few feet away was her door, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to move. She didn’t want to be without him. Not when his touch made her feel alive. Any halfhearted attempt to explain would only create further doubt. And how could she ever face him again if she didn’t tell him why she’d panicked? Nor could she tell him the truth. Worst of all, this could all be another head game to test him and the type of man he was. There was something wrong with her.
“The last thing I want is to drag this out for you. I won’t force you to explain.” He turned to her. “Just know how terribly sorry I am for any pain I’ve caused you.”
Each second she let go by without responding only deepened his wound. It was better if she felt completely humiliated than have him think he’d hurt her.
