by Sotia Lazu
The massage relaxed me; my eyelids drifted shut. “Can I take a look at their pictures? I know some people. I could ask around, see if they know anything about new fledglings.”
“I can get you their files, but I don’t want you to take any risks. He already saw you with me. If he finds out you’re looking into this…” His movements stilled, and he narrowed his eyes. “If he hurts you—”
That was another sentence he didn’t get to finish, this time because I sealed his lips with mine. It was a spontaneous reaction. He was worried for me, wanted to protect me.
“Where did that come from?” He didn’t seem to mind. His hands clutched at me, holding me to him.
I shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “Just felt like it.”
Using his index finger, he tucked my hair behind my ear. “I’m glad you did.” His thumb brushed my chin, lingering at the corner of my lips.
There was too much tension, too much something I didn’t want to identify between us. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if he kept being so nice, so cute, so…
I looked around. The place wasn’t really wrecked, but we had stuff to do. Thank God for small favors. The smashed coffee table lay by a broken lamp, the overhead light reflecting off the scattered shards of glass, sprinkling tiny dots of light onto the upturned couch. Dust covered a doily that I was sure had been handmade. The table I’d used was remarkably unscathed, which was more than could be said for the curtains, one side of which had been ripped off the rail.
“Let’s clean up,” I said, hopping off Alex’s lap.
“The front door lock is busted,” he said, rising to stand so close behind me that I could feel the heat of his body like we were still touching. “I’ll have to go buy a new one.”
I nodded. Casually putting some distance between us, I picked up the doily and shook it in an effort to get dusted vamp off it.
He turned the couch upright and replaced the pillows on it. “The bolt wasn’t on, so I can use that to keep the door closed but can’t lock from outside.”
I stood there, looking at the ruins of the coffee table, our glasses from the previous night miraculously intact on the floor. I was trying hard not to stare at how his dress pants stretched over the curve of his ass when he bent down for the last pillow. I really needed to bring the vacuum and mop from the basement. Anything to keep from jumping him.
“Can you stick around until I’m back?”
I raised my gaze to his. He was beautiful. Why did he have to look so adorable, looking at the floor, his hands deep in his pockets? “Alex—” I wanted to say how bad an idea that would be.
“You know, so nobody robs the place? Of course, I won’t be able to put the new lock in till the morning. I’ll need better light.” He looked like the cat that swallowed the canary, and I bet the porch light was as bright as the sun. “You could spend the night. Stay here for backup if Willoughby comes back.” He looked extremely satisfied with himself. “And we can talk about the case. See how we can proceed with it.”
Bad, bad idea, but I couldn’t really think of why. I’d already decided I wasn’t wiping him yet, and he already knew we existed, so one more night with him wouldn’t be a problem. “Sure.” I tried to sound disinterested, though the thought of being with him a bit longer made me giddy. “I’ll crash in the basement.”
“Good. That couch turns into a double bed, so we can both sleep there.”
I was torn between feeling incredibly stupid I hadn’t figured that out, and feeling even giddier because he was suggesting we spend the rest of the night in bed together.
“You can—” He cleared his throat. “You can drink from me again if you need to.”
As if his offer wasn’t already alluring enough. My mouth watered.
“And I don’t have to go in tomorrow, so we can stay here during the day too.” He rubbed his chin. A day’s stubble was giving him a more rugged look.
Okay, okay, I was sold! I swallowed hard. “You’ll have to get me something to wear. I’m not sleeping in leather again,” I said, trying not to sound suggestive.
“I’m on it.” Waggling his eyebrows, he moved toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” he said over his shoulder as he crossed the threshold. “Feel free to start tidying up.”
I called his name, but he ignored me. I hoped he’d be careful and stay safe. I doubted Willoughby would be going after him again so soon—not without backup, since he knew Alex had me to help him—but caution is always a good thing.
A door was shut between us once more, and I hadn’t been the one doing the shutting. Still, I felt oddly optimistic as I skipped down the steps to the basement to get the vacuum cleaner. I’d met an incredibly hot man with whom I’d had incredible sex and who hadn’t wanted me out of his life the moment he’d found out I was undead. For the first time since Constantine, I felt warm inside.
Vampires are not supposed to feel warm.
Chapter Four
Alex took a bit more than an hour to get back, giving me all the time I needed to finish cleaning up the ground floor. I was in the shower, but even under the running water, I could clearly make out his footsteps on the stairs when he called out my name.
“Honey, I’m home!”
I knew he was joking, yet the relentless romantic I have hidden deep inside let out a woot. I opened the glass pane so he could hear me. “I’m in here.”
I didn’t get to tell him I’d be right out, because he came right in. He wore the same clothes he’d had on since the previous night, shirt untucked, and he was barefoot. He had beautiful feet, I noticed. Big, male feet with long, straight toes.
I had to get a grip.
Hiding my body seemed silly after we’d already had sex, so I didn’t. Not that he looked. He just dropped a duffel bag by the sink.
“Thought you’d want clean clothes as soon as you were dry,” he said. “Got a couple tees and sweatpants from my place. They’ll be too big for you, but at least the pants have drawstrings. Should be good for the night.”
Then he pulled his shirt over his head.
If I were human, I’d have been drowned by the water filling my mouth and clogging my throat while I gaped at him. As it was, I was grateful I’d opened the shower stall door and could enjoy the view.
Most people look better when they’re dressed than when they’re out of their clothes. There are always flaws, something that needs covering up: a slightly jutting stomach, love handles, scars, pimples. Something.
To me Alex was perfect.
I’d already run my fingers down his chest and abs, but seeing the smooth, flawless skin stretch over rippling muscle made me itch to caress it. His shoulders were wide; I knew that already, but the way they rounded, leading to his flexing biceps, was a sight to behold. And that’s what I did. I beheld, wishing he was closer, that I could press my breasts against his chest and see goose bumps rise.
I would probably have kept staring at his six-pack for much longer if his fingers hadn’t gotten in the way. Splayed across his abdomen, they touched what I longed for, ghosting their way down to the front of his pants. I wanted to lick my way along the trail of fine hair beneath his navel that disappeared inside his waistband. I sucked in a breath when he undid the button and another when the zipper lowered, allowing his slacks to fall to the teal, tiled floor.
My gaze followed them, until he stepped out of the pooled fabric and toward the shower stall.
Toward me.
I bit my lip, barely registering the pain as I took in the muscled calves, the strong thighs, and finally his magnificent cock. Even though he’d been inside me the night before, my position above him and our hurry hadn’t allowed me to fully appreciate his…assets.
I did now. Springing from a nest of trimmed black curls, already hard, darker than the rest of his body, long and thick and slightly curved to the right, his cock beckoned with every step Alex took.
I was more than ready to respond to its beckoning when he joined me under the water jet.
<
br /> Just like staying there again had gradually become a good idea and telling Alex about vampires had seemed preferable to making him forget he’d ever met one, having sex with him one more time struck me as the only viable scenario once he was in the shower stall.
I didn’t care how he’d take me; he could press my face against the glass door, my back against the tiles, or have me on all fours. I just wanted him inside me. As soon as possible.
I tried to wrap my arms around his neck, but he got hold of my wrists, stopping me. My face must have shown my confusion, because he smiled.
“The water is cold,” he said.
“Don’t like it much hotter than this.” Ignore what you read in most books. A vampire’s temperature makes us sensitive to heat, not cold. Still, I turned the faucet a bit to the left.
He turned the water off altogether. “That’s better.”
I watched, mesmerized, while he took his time uncapping the shower gel, pouring some of it in his palm, and capping the bottle again. He put it back on its shelf and rubbed his hands together until they were covered in foam.
“Turn around. I’ll do you first.”
Oh, the innuendo in that last sentence.
Uncaring that I’d already lathered and rinsed, I turned my back to him without a second thought.
“Pull your hair up.”
I twirled my red tresses into one thick curl and tucked it at the side of my neck.
It wasn’t enough. “Hold it up with both hands, and don’t let go.” His voice brooked no argument, and I was more than excited with his take-control attitude.
I did what he asked, managing to tremble only slightly when his big, strong hands closed over my shoulders and massaged the lather onto my skin. His thumbs pressed against the back of my neck, his fingers rhythmically digging into the muscle, releasing knots I hadn’t known were there.
Moaning my approval, I let my head fall forward. His hands went to my shoulder blades, spreading the foam there before moving on to my back. He followed the line of my spine, his palms and knuckles taking turns in working my flesh. I could barely keep my footing as he slowly stroked his way down to my ass before kneeling behind me.
He ran a finger between my ass cheeks and chuckled when I reflexively clenched. He pressed a finger lightly against my asshole. “Don’t worry. I’m not going here—today.”
I wanted to come up with some smart retort, but he began massaging my inner thighs. His thumbs almost touched my pussy. I jerked back toward him, trying to rub against them. I craved his touch just a bit higher…just a bit…
Argh! He moved on to the backs of my knees, which nearly buckled, and then to my calves. I was wet, and not just from the shower. His touch was setting my skin on fire, and I squeezed my thighs together, trying to create some friction, to ease my need. It wasn’t enough. It felt like nothing but Alex would be enough ever again.
Just when I was sure I couldn’t take more teasing, he stood and ordered me to face him. His voice sounded husky and strained. Thinking I would finally get what I wanted, I complied eagerly.
Alex had something else in mind.
He prepared more lather and rubbed my throat. The pressure from his hand combined with the silkiness of the foam to make me light-headed. He was so close his breath warmed my skin. I tried to lower my arms and grab him, wanted to smash my lips against his, climb him and impale myself on him, but a shake of his head told me not to.
“Trust me,” he said.
“Why should I?” Despite my flippant answer, I knew that frighteningly, inexplicably, I already did. I would angst over that later, once I was satisfied and had the luxury to worry about my budding feelings for a mere mortal.
“Because I know how to make your body sing.” Cocky but a proven fact. “Now no more talking.”
Nodding seemed to sap all my strength. My entire being felt tense, not from the strain he’d chased away with his magic touch, but with anticipation of what would happen next. Where would his hands go after my collarbone? I couldn’t believe I just stood there while he made my body react any way he pleased. It had been a long time since I’d granted anyone control over me, and I found it hard to let him do so now. Then again it’d been so long since anyone had evoked such lust in me, since I had enjoyed anyone’s attentions like I now did Alex’s, that I couldn’t find it in me to be anything except passive. That would of course change—if he took much longer.
The heels of his palms feathered over my nipples, making them rise in hardened peaks.
I arched my back, pressing my breasts against his palms, and reveled when I realized his hands were trembling. His heart thundered, and his jaw was clenched. I could tell it took as much effort on his side as it did on mine to maintain the slow pace he’d imposed.
Gaze on mine, he cupped my breasts and kneaded them. He rolled the nipples between his fingers. His breathing sounded labored, but his movements weren’t rushed at all. He lowered his hands to my stomach and got on his knees once more, this time in front of me, to soap my belly, then my thighs.
I pushed my hips forward, craving his touch on my pussy. This time he didn’t disappoint. He snaked his hand between my legs and began gliding it back and forth. His touch didn’t linger, but it didn’t have to. Each of his strokes raised my temperature and made me rub against him. My legs trembled. My pussy felt too empty. I needed him to fill me and soothe the ache in me.
His thumb massaged my clit and even slid inside me, but not deep enough. I let go of my hair and placed both hands on his head, trying to stay upright, as well as hoping he’d use more than his fingers on me. He didn’t. Instead he withdrew and finished lathering the front of my legs. Then he rose and reached behind me for the shampoo.
“You shouldn’t have let go of your hair,” he said. “Now it needs washing too.”
He’d kept his lower body away from mine until then, not letting me feel him. Now his hard cock brushed my stomach, and I hissed. He seemed unaffected, fully focused on making lather of the jasmine-scented liquid.
He proceeded to work the shampoo into my hair, and I couldn’t help but look down at him. Our bodies touched, his length rubbing against me at the same time his arms moved so he could massage my scalp. I wanted to drop down onto my knees and take him in my mouth.
Too suddenly he stopped and took a step back. “My turn.”
I thought he meant I should treat him to the same pampering he’d treated me to. I was wrong. Again. When he held me at arm’s length and poured shower gel down his body, frustration made me see red.
He washed himself fast, with not even half of the care with which he’d washed me, yet his hands caressing all of him was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. The tanned skin gleaming against the white foam made me lick my lips.
His fist closed around his shaft. In a circular motion, it coiled from the tip to the base of his cock once, twice, before returning to his abdomen. A groan escaped me.
I think my groan was what finally made him break. Or maybe it had been his plan from the start to do things the way he did next. He turned the water on, folded one arm around my waist, and cupped my neck with his other hand to bring me to him. I stumbled and clung to his biceps to keep my balance. They were made of steel! Once I was flush against him under the jet, he lowered his face to mine for a kiss.
His whole posture held such urgency, I expected him to devour my mouth, yet his kiss was gentle, almost timid. His lips brushed mine with tenderness before his tongue traced their seam. I opened for him, meaning to deepen the kiss, but he wouldn’t be hurried. Suds and water cascaded down my face, getting in my eyes and mouth, but I couldn’t have cared less. Alex gasped for breath, but he wouldn’t stop kissing me. He leisurely explored my mouth until I felt like my feet didn’t touch the ground.
And then they no longer did.
Alex lifted me into his arms and turned the water off with a nudge of his elbow. I don’t know what he was planning to do next, but I didn’t wait to find out. As he was trying to
maneuver me in his arms, I lifted my legs, wrapped them around his hips, and let myself sink on his dick.
“Cherry—” He momentarily lost his footing but regained his balance and turned so I was pressed between him and the glass wall. “You really shouldn’t have done that.” His eyes glinted with mischief.
“Um, if it’s about the condom thing…can’t get pregnant and not carrying any nasty germs.” I moved against him.
He chuckled and grabbed my ass with both hands, stilling me. “I was just thinking we could use a bed this time.”
I contracted around his cock, tightening my inner muscles’ grip on his shaft. “Beds are overrated.”
His whole body tensed, his grip on my ass becoming punishing. I must have made some sound, because he relaxed his hands and whispered an apology before claiming my lips. This time his kiss was hungry, demanding. He bit my lips like he was trying to devour me and began to drive his cock in and out of me.
Water didn’t make for the best lubricant, but I liked the friction. I liked the feeling of being sandwiched between a hot man and a cool glass pane and being thoroughly fucked.
Only it didn’t feel like mere fucking.
Alex was rambling. I’m not sure he knew exactly what came out of his mouth, but I heard it all. I was beautiful, perfect to him. He never wanted to hurt me. The openness and honesty of his face, the awe in his eyes as he sank and withdrew from my body was overwhelming. For the second time in as many days, he offered me so much more than just sex. He offered me companionship, comfort. He promised me a tomorrow.
I wasn’t sure I deserved it. That moment I knew I couldn’t handle it.
I leaned my head back and cried.
There were no sobs, only tears falling down my cheeks, pooling at my neck. Tears that seemed to cleanse me somehow of all the bad that had accumulated inside through the years.
He noticed, despite my already wet skin, and instantly ceased his movements. He caressed my cheek and began asking if something was wrong. I wanted to ease the worry I could hear in his voice but could do nothing other than shake my head and rock my pelvis, urging him on. I couldn’t tell him he’d touched me deeper than anyone else. I didn’t know why I was crying. I only knew I was happy and terrified at the same time.
