Bloodlust 00 The Talisman

by Marilyn Lee

  “Hey, wait a minute.”

  She froze in her seat when he leaned over and covered the hand resting on the door handle with his. “You're obviously interested in getting rid of me as soon as possible, but hold on a sec. You're going to need help with all those bags.”

  “Thank you, but I can manage.” She just wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible before she said or did something outrageous. Like allowing him to see how his nearness affected her.

  His gaze met hers briefly. “I'm sure you can. You're obviously very resourceful, but I'm here and it's not necessary for you to struggle with the bags on your own.”

  Anxious for him to just move away, she nodded and released a slow breath when he pushed open her door and finally withdrew his arm and moved away.

  They were silent as they carried the bags to her first floor apartment. She opened her apartment door and he deposited the bags he carried just inside her doorway before turning to look down at her. “There you are.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “No problem. I'll ah...be on my way.”

  His gaze was so dark and intense it would be very easy and pleasant to lose herself in its depths...in him. “Ah...would you...would you like to come in?” she asked impulsively.

  “Come in?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I...you know. For coffee or...something.”

  His gaze locked with hers. “Excuse me? Something? What kind of something did you have in mind?”

  That's when she crossed that line she'd never had the nerve to cross before. “I don't know exactly...what did you have in mind?”

  “What did I have in mind? I wasn't aware that I'd indicated I had anything in mind, Miss Thompson. I think we're getting our signals crossed. You needed a ride home. I offered you one and you accepted. End of story.”

  The lingering gaze he cast at her breasts mitigated his cool tone. Although the heat flooded her cheeks, she didn't look away from him. She even managed to conjure up what she hoped was a vampish smile. “The story doesn't have to end there. Would you...like to come in? For coffee or tea? We could discuss...the something.”

  For one heart stopping moment, his gaze moved to her lips and she thought he would accept her invitation. The look in his eyes made her catch my breath and bite down on her lower lip. She could almost feel the sudden tension between them, a passion born of a long denied desire.

  She was sure he felt it too. But did he want or intend to do anything about it?

  He abruptly lowered his lids so she couldn't see the expression in his eyes. “I wonder if you know how...tempting your invitation sounds.”

  Her throat felt dry. “Tempting enough to accept?”

  He shook his head slowly, almost reluctantly. “Yes, but that would definitely not be a good idea.”

  “Actually, I think it would be a great idea,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment. “But if you don't agree...well, thanks for the lift. It was a real lifesaver.”

  He nodded slowly, lifting his eyelids and locking his gaze with hers. “No problem. Giving you a lift was my pleasure, Miss Thompson.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he nodded, smiling. “It was an undeniable pleasure. You can run into me with a zillion bag any time you like.”

  “Really? And you can...sprawl between my legs in the middle of the sidewalk anytime you like.”

  “Actually, you were the one sprawled between my legs,” he pointed out. “But either way, the thought that holds definite appeal.”

  “Yeah? Then maybe you could come for coffee and we could discuss another accident.” The moment the words were out, she could happily have bitten off her tongue. Here she was coming on to him after he'd already refused her! He must think her desperate for a man.

  Those gray eyes of his flicked slowly over her heated face, settling briefly on her lips. She knew she wasn't Vanessa Williams beautiful, but men, black men anyway, generally thought she was worth a second look. And judging by the way he looked at her, he must think so too.

  “A bed would be a nicer place to have a second accident.”

  Her heart thumped in her chest. “Funny you should mention a bed.” She pointed a finger over her shoulder toward her open door. “I just happen to have one inside. It's big and very comfortable. Would you...like to see it?”

  He licked his lips. “You have no idea how much I'd like to see your bed...your floor...your anything.”

  Oh, God! He wanted her too. “Then step right in and—“

  He ran a hand through his hair and looked away. When he spoke his voice was so low, she barely heard it. “I...ah, I'd better go. Now.”

  “Now?”

  “Now.”

  “But what about—”

  “Goodbye.”

  She watched as he left, leaving her full of frustrated desire.

  * * * * *

  Chandler gripped Jane's slender hips and bent to kiss her neck as she bounced up and down on his lap, grinding her petite butt against his naked thighs. Jane was gasping and making little sounds. Her small breasts brushed against his chest and he could feel her begin to contract around him. She was almost there, about to come. She just needed a minute more of firm sure strokes and she'd have an orgasm.

  “Chandler...Chandler,” she whispered. “Chandler.”

  That was about as excited as she got—at least with him. And it wasn't enough. He wanted more. He needed more. Was it too much to expect his woman to writhe on his cock like it was the best she'd ever had? A fleeting memory of a long night spent fucking Serge's sister teased him. He pushed it away.

  He couldn't expect Jane or any human woman to be as wild and lusty as Katie, but he did need a more responsive woman. It was all he could do to keep his cock from wilting inside Jane's quaking body. He settled back against the chair, continued the steady rhythm inside her and gave his imagination free rein.

  With his eyes closed, the woman on his lap was transformed. She was more voluptuous. Her legs were longer. Her breasts were bigger, fuller. Her buttocks more deliciously rounded, fitting into his palms as if they had been molded for his hands alone. The outer lips of her vagina were dark. Inside, between the pink inner lips was an irresistible sweet heat that clung to and welcomed his raging hard-on.

  And when he looked into her eyes, her smile would be shy, but warm; a sensuous combination of passion and intriguing reserve. Her golden gaze would be like liquid fire as she sensuously slid her sweet, brown body along his aching cock all the way to his balls.

  Her voice would be husky and full of need for him as she gasped his name. She would tell him in terms that made him rock hard how good his cock felt in her; how much she needed to feel it buried deep within the depths of her body; her dark heat.

  “My God, Chandler! That's so good! I love it! I love it! I love your cock! I love your balls! Fuck me, Chandler! Fuck me hard!”

  “Oh, God!” Cassy! Her name and her dark, sensuous image filled his mind and overwhelmed his senses. A vision of his cock gliding deep into her was all it took to make him lose control. He groaned, gripped her hips tighter and pumped furiously into her until he finally exploded into her convulsing body.

  “Chandler!” Jane spoke his name in a small, shocked voice.

  Oh, God, he'd done it now. He groaned silently and reluctantly opened his eyes. Had he actually said Cassy Thompson's name out loud while having sex with Jane? “Look, Jane, I'm...I'm sorry,” he began, but trailed off. How could he expect her to forgive the unforgivable?

  Jane's blue eyes were slightly glazed as she looked up at him. “You're sorry? For what, Chandler? Chandler, that was absolutely incredible.” She sounded both surprised and embarrassed.

  He felt his face flush. It had been incredible, but only because he'd pretended she was another woman; a woman he couldn't have. Not only because she was black, but because she was also one of his employees. He could not get involved with her. He would not get involved with her.

  Still fully sea
ted on him, Jane ground her hips against his and linked her arms around his neck. “What's the matter, Chandler?”

  “Nothing.”

  She reached a hand back and palmed his balls. “That was nice.”

  “Yes. It was.”

  Still holding his balls, she leaned forward and kissed him. “Then what's wrong?”

  “Nothing's wrong.” But he didn't want her arousing him again. If they had sex again, he might actually call out Cassy's name. He pressed a quick kiss against Jane's mouth. She responded quickly and leaned forward to deepen the kiss, but he lifted her off his fast deflating shaft and set her on her feet. “I just have to use the john.”

  She ran a hand down his abdomen to his cock. “Hurry back.”

  In her bathroom, he stared at his reflection. His face was flushed and he looked guilty as hell. Jane was happier than he'd ever seen her and all he wanted was to get away from her ASAP so he could go home and fantasize about Cassy Thompson.

  He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. If he were going to develop the hots for a black woman, it could not be Cassy Thompson. If? He'd already developed the hots for her and what's more he'd been foolish enough to let her know it. But he could not afford the luxury of a relationship with her, no matter how alluring or irresistible he found her. If he went down that path and things went wrong between them, he could find himself slapped with a sexual harassment suit.

  He turned around when the bathroom door opened behind him. Jane stood there, naked and smiling almost shyly at him. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes radiant. She looked completely satisfied. He realized with a shock that she was not unresponsive. It had only seemed that way to him because he hadn't worked hard enough to really turn her on before.

  She would be as responsive as he made her. But he realized that he no longer had any wish to make a wild woman out of her in bed. How the hell was he going to tell her that without hurting her?

  She crossed the room and slipped her arms around him, grinding her hairless mound against his flaccid shaft. She reached a hand down to cup him. “Chandler? You're soft. Come back to bed and let me harden you,” she said softly. “Let me suck you.”

  “What? Let you what?”

  “I want to...taste you.”

  He stared at her in surprise. Jane had always been shy. Though he'd frequently fantasized about her behaving this way, she'd never once initiated their lovemaking. And now that she had, he was no longer interested.

  He gently lifted her hand away from his shaft and stepped back. “That sounds very exciting.”

  She smiled confidently up at him. “Yes. It does. I want to feel you in my mouth, taste you, have you come in my mouth.”

  “I'd like that too,” he lied. “But unfortunately, I have to go. I have an early day tomorrow.”

  She closed the distance between them and rubbed her small breasts against his chest. “But tomorrow's Sunday,” she protested. “And I really want you to stay the night. Or at least for another few hours.” She reached a small hand down to palm his cock and balls. “I have plans for these bad boys.”

  “And I'd like to stay, Jane, but there are things I need to take care of to be ready for Monday. I really need to hit the road.”

  “Oh.” She sighed. “Well, when will I see you again? When can we get together again? When you can stay the night?”

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “Jane, we agreed to be friends,” he reminded her.

  Even as he spoke, he felt like a heel. He had come to her straight from Cassy Thompson's apartment. To sleep with her. Being with Cassy Thompson had left him far too horny to masturbate. He'd needed a woman and he'd come to her.

  Having assuaged his physical hunger he longed to get away from Jane. He didn't like the sudden adoring look in her eyes.

  “You didn't come here tonight looking for a friend, Chandler,” she said, sounding testy. “You came to share my bed. Now that you have, you want to go back to being friends?”

  “That's all I can handle right now,” he said, knowing he sounded as lame as he felt.

  “When you were thrusting into me like a wild man a few moments ago, it felt like you could handle more. Why did you come here and...and do this, if all you want is friendship?”

  “Jane...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come.”

  “Maybe not, but you did come and you did sleep with me.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or should I say you fucked me? Because that's what this was all about, wasn't it, Chandler? You didn't want to make love, you wanted to fuck.”

  He bit back the urge to remind her that judging by her response, she had apparently wanted the same thing. “I'm sorry,” he said again.

  She pulled away from him, her pretty face flushing. Glancing around, she yanked a towel off the towel rack and wrapped it around her body, sarong style. “Is that supposed to make me feel better because you're sorry, Chandler? Well, it doesn't. It just makes me feel cheap!”

  “Look, Jane, you know there's no reason for you to feel cheap, as you call it. We're two consenting adults who've enjoyed a pleasant physical relationship. There's nothing wrong with that.”

  “Nothing wrong with that? You come here and treat me like some hussy you found in a back alley and I'm supposed to be okay with that?”

  “It wasn't like that.”

  “Oh, yes it was, but guess what, Chandler? It's not all right. I am not cheap and I will not let you treat me like I am!”

  He stared at her wearily. Why did women always insist on overreacting and clinging like a damned leech when it became clear that a relationship was over? “I'm sorry you feel way, Jane. It certainly wasn't my intent to—”

  “Oh, to hell with you and your intent, Chandler! Why don't the both of you get the hell out of my life and my apartment?”

  He had wanted it to end. But not like this. “Jane, I—”

  “No, don't say anything else, Chandler. You wanted mindless sex and that's what you got. Now please get out. And Chandler, don't bother calling me and I sure as hell won't call you.”

  Later, lying alone in his bed, physically satisfied, but still aware of a longing for Cassy Thompson, he found sleep elusive. And that annoyed him. Why was he allowing thoughts of Cassy Thompson to haunt him? She wasn't the only woman in the city. Hell, she wasn't even the only black woman in the city. Damn if he was going to lose his head over her. She was just one woman in a city full of willing and available women, and he wasn't going to waste any more of his time lusting after her.

  He sighed and turned his head. In the moonlight shinning into the room through his open curtains, he could see the outlines of the Ebony Venus. Staring at and caressing it each night before he went to sleep only served to feed his hunger for Cassy Thompson. What he needed was to get rid of the damned thing.

  The thought of trashing the statuette both his great grandfather and grandfather had cherished went against his grain. Tossing it in the trash was not an option. He frowned. He supposed he could pass it on some other sucker. That too went against the grain. How could be subject someone else to the same dilemma he was trying to escape himself?

  He couldn't do that—unless, of course, that someone was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He thought immediately of Serge. He was out there enough not only to want the statuette, but also to actually follow the ritual. And with Serge he wouldn't have to worry about the possible consequences. It was settled. He'd give Serge the statuette.

  Chapter Four

  Cassy stared up at the man smiling down at her. Talk about tall, dark and handsome. An undeniable tingle of excitement danced through her at the thought of dancing with him. He was the proverbial ebony knight if ever there was one. And to have him single her out from all the other women in attendance at the party was a thrill.

  “What's your name?” He had a deep, warm voice.

  “Cassy Thompson.”

  He took her hands between his. “Frank Wilson.” Still holding her hands, he glanced around them to the large room where
couples were dancing and talking. “Please tell me you're here alone.”

  “I am.” The look of interest in his dark brown eyes sent a spark of warmth through her. “At least, I'm here with a female friend, but—”

  "Good."“Glad to hear your friend's female.” He smiled down at her. "So am I. Which hopefully means that”I'm hoping we can get to know each other tonight.”

  She smiled silently up at him.