by I. T. Lucas
Once he had his fill of suckling and licking, and her sensitive nipples could take no more, he pulled her up even higher to worship her nether lips with his tongue.
She was indeed the one on top, but he was definitely still the one in charge. It was fine with her, though. His talented tongue was doing a fantastic job of bringing her to the verge of another orgasm. Incredibly dexterous for a tongue, it was somehow pushing and twisting inside her at the same time.
“You’re going to make me come like this.”
“I know,” he mumbled and continued his assault.
She wasn’t about to argue. Letting herself go, she climaxed with a soft gasp.
They made love a few more times, unhurriedly, learning each other’s bodies, and the easy, gentle pace brought its own unique kind of pleasure—an intimacy that neither had experienced with anyone else before.
Other than that first time, Dalhu refrained from biting her, and she suspected that he didn’t want her dopey from the effect of the venom because he wanted her to savor the closeness just as much as he did.
Amanda sighed contently as he pulled out and plopped beside her on the bed. She was so exhausted, it was a struggle to keep her eyes open, and after a moment she gave up, letting herself drift into sleep.
“I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I think that you successfully drained the last drop of life out of me,” she heard him say.
“Mm-hmm…” she murmured, not willing to lift her eyelids.
He turned sideways and draped his arm around her middle, turning her limp body around so he could snuggle up from behind. “Isn’t it the guy who’s supposed to turn around and go to sleep after?”
“Mm-hmm…”
CHAPTER 29: SEBASTIAN
“Stay together and give Robert a buzz when you’re done. He’ll pick you up. Is everyone clear about what to do?” Sebastian eyed the small group of men he was dropping off at what was supposed to be a raunchy bar.
“I still don’t understand about that Uber service. Why not use a taxicab?”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “First of all, you might not need the service if you can take care of business in some secluded corner right here in the bar or in the alley behind it. But we don’t want accidental witnesses, so in case privacy is a problem, you call up a car, using the Uber application on your phone like I showed you, and take the woman to one of the motels on your list. It’s easier and cheaper than a taxicab, and the drivers do it as a part time job and don’t pay as much attention to their passengers.”
The guy nodded and the group headed for the bar’s front door.
He really needed to solve the problem of females for his men, and the sooner, the better.
Sebastian eased into the sparse late-evening traffic and headed for the nearest coffee shop with Internet service. He had chosen the neighborhood carefully, searching for a lower middle class area that was becoming trendy, and had settled for Glendale. His research had yielded a few popular bars and clubs as well as coffee shops that were open late—a rarity in most of LA and its surrounding cities, whose residents apparently went to sleep with the birds.
As he spotted what he was looking for, Sebastian drove a little further down the street until he found a parking spot big enough for his brand new Escalade. Tom had convinced him that it was best suited to his needs, but even though the car was pretty luxurious and surprisingly easy to drive despite its monstrous size, he would’ve preferred something more refined—like the Range Rover he had back home. Except, Tom’s argument had been that Sebastian needed a car that could seat more passengers than the Rover and that the Escalade was in fact considered trendy. It remained to be seen. He would drive the thing for a week, and if he didn’t like it, he’d fob it off on Tom and have the guy buy him something else.
The small coffee shop was almost deserted at only ten o’clock at night. He made his way down the narrow aisle separating the two rows of booths, benches that were covered in ugly burgundy Naugahyde and tables that were topped with cheap Formica, settling in the last one next to the front window. The only other customer was an older guy sitting in the booth across from him. The man was staring into space while mumbling something incoherent to his invisible companion.
A loon.
Sebastian pulled out his laptop from its leather carrying case and put it on the table. The Internet access code was printed on top of the plastic menu and he logged in. Maybe some flies had been already caught in the dating web, and someone had responded to his ad, or profile as the dating service called it. He wondered if the other profiles were as fabricated as his. Probably. At least his picture wasn’t fake. It was slightly altered but not to make him look better, just to obscure his identity.
“What can I get you?” A waitress with a white apron and ratty sneakers holding a little notepad and pencil was giving him an appreciative look-over.
She didn’t smile for him, though, or strike a pose like most girls would’ve done when they wanted to get noticed. Probably figured he was out of her league, and rightfully so. Too skinny, with a limp ponytail that looked like it needed shampooing. Perhaps with a little spiffing up and some meat on her bones she could’ve been pretty, not beautiful, but at least attractive.
He put on a charming smile and glanced at her nametag. “Tiffany, what a lovely name. How is your cappuccino? Any good?”
She shrugged. “I guess, a lot of the lunch regulars order it, so it must be good. I don’t drink coffee, so I wouldn’t know.”
She didn’t drink coffee.
Who didn’t drink coffee? There must be something wrong with the girl. “I’ll give it a try. How about those cakes over there?” As he tilted his head sideways to look at the pastries and cakes in the display case up front, he noticed the woman standing behind the tall counter.
Now, that was a looker.
Not as young as Tiffany, the woman was probably the proprietress. Only her face and a small part of her upper body were visible from behind the display, but unless she had a backside the size of his Escalade or crooked legs, she was definitely on the beautiful side of the scale. Except, she looked tired, with dark circles under her big brown eyes, and the expression on her face was decidedly unfriendly. In fact, she was eyeing him with almost open hostility.
It happened sometimes.
Here and there he’d encountered a woman who possessed some kind of a sixth sense about what was hiding under his charming veneer.
No big deal.
Very few females possessed this innate ability, and he had no problem ensnaring most others with his silver tongue and his charming smile.
However, it was a shame that this one was among those select few.
Even with that dour and tired expression, hair that was pulled back in a simple braid, and no trace of makeup, her face was arresting. Her features hinted at a mixed heritage, a combination of Hispanic—maybe Cuban, and Middle Eastern—perhaps Egyptian or even Ethiopian. It made her beauty unique.
Like a rare masterpiece.
One that he would’ve loved to possess.
“The cakes and pastries are to die for. I can say this with confidence because I tasted most of them. I promise that anything you choose will be amazing…” He listened to the skinny waitress’s gushing endorsement while locking gazes with the proprietress.
She didn’t back down.
Gutsy bitch, he’d give her that.
“What’s your favorite?” Sebastian smiled at the dark-haired beauty before turning his attention back to the waitress.
She hadn’t returned his smile.
“Oh, I can’t say, they’re all so good.” She leaned over a little as if to tell him a secret. “My boss makes them herself, and the recipes are a family secret.”
“In this case, I must sample more than one. Bring me an assortment.”
The waitress’s face visibly brightened, probably calculating the tip she was going to get. “How many would you like?”
He glanced at the woman behind the counte
r and winked. “Let’s start with six.”
“Yes, sir!” she chirped, and tucked her small notepad inside her apron pocket before hurrying away to fill his order.
He’d definitely succeeded in winning the waitress over, but her boss’s expression remained unchanged.
Oh well, he couldn’t win them all. The waitress would do.
Come to think of it, with a little fattening and styling she might be good enough for his men.
CHAPTER 30: KIAN
“I don’t know what to say.” Syssi touched her fingers to the choker.
Kian leaned over her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “A simple thank-you will suffice, my love.” He walked back to the other side of the table and sat down.
Syssi looked like a queen, and for the first time in his life, he was truly thankful for his wealth. He felt a purely male sense of satisfaction at being able to buy his fiancée things few other men could. Never mind that it was unwarranted. After all, it wasn’t as if he had slain a dragon or bested numerous opponents in a tournament to win her hand in marriage. But dragons didn’t exist and knights no longer jousted for ladies’ affections. Nowadays, acts of bravery and combat skills were replaced by business acumen, and battles were waged on the financial arena. The measure of success for men, and for women, was how well they managed to distinguish themselves in either politics or the art of money-making.
“Thank you.” She shook her head as she lifted her hand to examine the ring. “But seriously, Kian, these two pieces of jewelry can feed a small country. Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but I’m also somewhat perplexed. And even though I promised not to argue about accepting these, I just have to know; what in God’s name possessed you to spend a fortune on diamonds for me?”
Luckily, he’d come prepared with an argument even his practical Syssi couldn’t find fault with. “It’s a sound investment. Diamonds of this caliber that come with authentication certificates appreciate in value. So in case we ever find ourselves in a situation where we need to feed a small country, and all our other resources are gone, we can sell them for more than their original cost.” Checkmate.
Syssi opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, slumping back in her chair. For a moment, she just gazed at him with narrowed eyes.
His lips twitched with the effort of stifling a smirk.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she finally smiled. “Very clever, aren’t you? You had it all carefully planned.”
“Obviously, I know who I’m dealing with. I have more.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“You know, it’s not very romantic to argue with your fiancé when he presents you with a ring.”
“Oh, that’s a good one, laying a guilt trip on me. But seriously, where am I going to wear these? I’ll need armed guards to accompany me if I leave the keep with this on—to protect your investment.”
Kian leaned forward and beckoned Syssi with his finger to get closer. “Remember my original proposal?” he whispered.
She blushed, “How could I ever forget?”
“So you know exactly where and how you’re going to wear these.”
Syssi grinned and leaned even closer. “With nothing on besides spiky high heels.”
“You got it.”
“Pervert.”
“What else is new?”
“I love you.”
He took her hands and kissed each one. “That’s not new, and neither is how much I love you and how grateful I am for you. You make my life worth living.”
Syssi’s eyes shone, but he suspected that it wasn’t the supernatural glow of his kind. She was tearing.
He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “I hope these are happy tears.”
“Oh boy, and here I thought I was doing such good job of holding them back. But yes, these are happy tears… mostly.”
Mostly?
“Why, what’s wrong?”
Just as Syssi was about to answer, his phone buzzed in his pocket—again. He’d silenced the damned thing’s ringer but the vibrate was still on, and every time an email or a text message came in it buzzed. Which meant that it was buzzing almost continuously. It was like having a damned vibrator in his pocket. For a moment, he eyed his Perrier glass and considered drowning the phone in it.
But it probably won’t fit.
“Give me a second.” He took it out and shut it down completely. If a catastrophe struck in the next two hours, they’d have to manage without him.
“Okay, I’m listening.”
Syssi glanced at his phone. “Are you sure that’s smart? What if something happens and they can’t get a hold of you. I didn’t bring mine, it didn’t fit in this tiny purse.” She lifted what was the size of his wallet to show him.
Why the hell had she bothered to take it with her at all? It could barely contain a lipstick. Though he remembered that Syssi had her driver license in there because she showed it to the waiter who had taken their drinks order.
As if anyone would’ve asked to see it in a place like this.
“It’s fine. The world will manage without me for a couple of hours. Now, tell me what troubles you before I start blowing smoke out my nostrils.”
“For real?”
“No! You’re driving me crazy. Talk, woman.”
“It’s not about us, so you can relax. It’s just that I feel guilty for being so happy—with you—planning our wedding, joking, having fun, while Amanda suffers because she can’t be with the one she loves.”
Aha, so that is her story. Well, at least she said she is happy and having fun.
“She was the one who sobered up and left, I had nothing to do with it.” Technically.
“So what are you saying? That if Amanda comes back and wants to be with Dalhu you will not stand in her way?”
“That, I didn’t say.”
Syssi pulled her hands out of his grip and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re not doing the right thing here, Kian. I know you think it’s best for Amanda to forget about Dalhu, but you can’t make this kind of a decision for her. And from what I hear Dalhu is a decent guy, for a Doomer, and he is cooperating with us. If they truly love each other, you should give them a chance.”
He could’ve strangled that damned Doomer. The guy was intruding on Kian’s perfect date.
“Can we not talk about this tonight? This evening is about us, and I don’t want to think about anything other than you and how soon I can get you naked.”
Syssi smiled and dropped her arms. She returned her hands to the table and slipped them inside his larger ones. “Do you ever think of anything else when you’re with me?”
“Let me see… nope. And I don’t think of much else when I’m not with you either. I’m just a simple guy with simple needs.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right, and here is the evidence of that.” She lifted her hand and twisted it around so the big diamond was in his face.
He took her fingers and brought her hand closer for a kiss. “Did you forget already? Should I repeat my pervy proposal?”
Syssi threw her head back and laughed out loud. “Oh, God, you’re right, this too is about getting me naked.”
“Absolutely.”
CHAPTER 31: SEBASTIAN
“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking all by herself in the middle of the night.” Sebastian sidled up to the little waitress. He’d said it jokingly, the street wasn’t deserted, and people were still going in and coming out of the trendy cafés and restaurants that were still open. Only the boutiques and other small shops were closed, but their window fronts remained brightly illuminated.
It hadn’t required a Sherlock-Holmes-caliber deductive skill to guess that the girl was dirt poor and didn’t own a car. One look at her ratty sneakers and her old, threadbare jeans—and not the fashionable kind that just looked worn out—had told him all he needed to know.
He had waited outside the coffee shop until her shift had ended and followed her from a safe distance for a couple of
blocks. After all, someone might have come to pick her up, a boyfriend or maybe even her lovely boss. But no one had.
“It’s not that late, and I live just around the block,” she said with a thin, nervous smile.
“You’re right, it is definitely too early for calling it a night. How about a drink somewhere, you and me? Or are your legs killing you after your shift?” He flashed her his best shy smile, the one he had perfected over the years to lure countless females into his trap. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Sebastian slouched a little, not because he was tall—his height was average for a male—but because he wished to appear as non-threatening as possible.
She hesitated for about a second and a half. “Okay, there is a bar a few minutes’ walk down the other way.” She turned around and pointed to a red neon sign that read McClintock’s.
The place was one block away from the coffee shop she worked in. It wouldn’t have been his first choice, someone might know her there, but he’d gotten the impression that she wouldn’t go with him anywhere else. He could’ve thralled her right there on the street, but that wasn’t a good idea either. He needed to find out more about the girl before deciding if she was a good candidate for abduction.
“Sounds great, lead the way,” he said.
The girl relaxed visibly.
“Do you go there often?” he asked.
“No, not at all. But I heard it’s a nice place.”
Perfect.
It was dark inside, for a human that is, and they settled into one of the intimate booths. He ordered them drinks, a plate of nachos, and fried calamari. The girl needed some fattening.
Over the next hour, he coaxed her to tell him her story.
After graduating high school, Tiffany had packed her meager belongings and left her miserable childhood home in Alabama to pursue an acting career in Hollywood. She’d covered the distance mostly by hitchhiking and only occasionally taking a bus. She’d made it to the promised land two and a half months ago, and until her big break arrived, she was waitressing and sharing a two-bedroom apartment with four other girls. What she made at her part-time job paid her share of the rent with little left over for other necessities. She was dedicating most of her time to an endless parade of auditions for any part that was open to non-union members—she couldn’t afford the fees.
