She stared down her belly and traced the long row of stitches. “I was embalmed, wasn’t I?” Her mouth twisted with a look of utter disgust.
Niall blew out a gust of air and clenched his fists with frustration. “I hate to tell you this, but you’ve got one of those on top of your head, too.”
Frannie’s eyes rounded, and her fingers searched her scalp. “Does this mean I don’t have a brain?”
He couldn’t resist. “Something’s changed?”
The acid of her frown could have stripped paint.
He trailed a finger up the line of stitches to his true destination, pausing to cup her breast. His thumb rasped over the distended nub and it stiffened. “Just for a day or two. We regenerate while we rest. I swear you have a full complement of organs now.” He tweaked the nipple.
“That’s disgusting,” she said, but pushed her breast hard against his hand. “You’re going to be awfully busy with tweezers later, mister.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s the price I’ll gladly pay.”
She sat back abruptly. “Will I age?”
“Barely.” Niall dropped his hand to the floor and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Are we going to talk all night?”
She shrugged, and her mouth formed a pout. “Maybe. It’s not every day a girl wakes up dead. I have a million questions.”
“We’ve years to find answers for them all.” He grabbed her hip and squeezed.
“All right,” she huffed. “But then you’re pulling these stitches.” She wrinkled her nose. “They itch.”
“So do I.” He dropped his voice to a growl. “Want to guess where?”
She gave him a flirty look from under her eyebrows. “Just one itsy-bitsy question more?”
He groaned. “Is it important?”
She nodded, her expression telling him the answer was very important to her.
“Okay, what?”
“Can I give up my seaweed masks?”
A bark of laughter surprised him. He leaned closer and kissed the tip of her nose. “In a hundred years you’ll be as lovely as you are now.”
A smile trembled on her lips. “Is it the blood or the frequent sex that keeps us young?”
He gave her a wicked smile. “I’m thinkin’ we’ll never find out.”
She flashed him a flirty look. “Well, just in case…” She slid her feet over his buttocks and pressed. “Can’t take any chances, can we?”
Finally. Niall leaned down and kissed her soft, plump lips, ready for a slower exploration this time.
Frannie wasn’t having any of it. Her hands went straight for his buttocks, and she dug her nails into his skin. “I don’t want ordinary—give me the starbursts.”
Niall chuckled and rolled with her, until she sprawled on top of him.
Frannie wriggled from his tight embrace and sat up, driving his cock deeper inside. “Oh my!”
“You did say you wanted starbursts.” Lifting his head, he sucked a rosy-tipped nipple into his mouth.
Frannie clutched the hair at the back of his head, moaning. He guessed her nipples were especially sensitive. His teeth closed around a hardened bud, and he tugged.
“Ooh! Do that again.” Frannie’s hips undulated, her inner muscles constricting around his cock, giving him a sexy squeeze that had him delving deeper to seek her silky honey.
He released her nipple and nuzzled in her cleavage, drinking in the sweet, floral scent of her skin. Frannie’s breasts were a tasty treat—small, but firm and round, and set high on her chest. Her softer-than-velvet nipples were large, cherry-colored disks. When aroused, like now, the tips beaded like the little rock candies he’d savored in his mouth as a child.
Niall rolled his tongue around the treat and chewed gently, then he licked his way across her chest to capture the other nipple, earning him another appreciative roll of her hips.
Frannie tucked her knees close to his body and levered her hips to rise and fall, seeming to delight in the long, slow glides that alternately buried and exposed his cock.
Niall released her nipple. She was killing him slowly. Her thighs quivered, her breaths grew labored, but she didn’t quicken her pace. And sweet Jesus! She was beautiful. Slenderness and wiry strength, creamy-white skin with cherry lips and nipples, hair the color of night that drifted like a silky cloud around her shoulders and played peek-a-boo with her lovely breasts.
Niall grasped her buttocks, curving his palms around her soft bottom to force her to move faster. Frannie resisted, so he lifted one hand and smacked a fleshy cheek.
Frannie gasped, but her pace picked up. That worked so well, Niall smacked the other cheek, and her thighs widened, shortening her strokes. She closed her eyes and bobbed faster, ending each glide with a grind that rubbed her passion-slick clitoris against the curly hair at the base of his cock.
The friction between her juicy cunt and his shaft was building—but not fast enough. He slid a fingertip along the crease dividing her buttocks.
“No!” Frannie’s eyes shot open, and her movements grew jerky.
Niall ignored her plea and glided his finger downward until he reached her little rosette. He circled it, pressed against it—scraped it with his fingernail.
Frannie cried out. She leaned forward and gripped his shoulders. Her expression was taut, her cheeks flushed—her dark eyes wild. Her hips slammed down and jerked up, faster and faster. Her breaths grew jagged, ending on gusting sobs.
Deciding now was the time to introduce her to the best part of vampire sex, Niall leaned up and licked his way along her collarbone, until he reached her throat. At the same time he pressed the finger stroking her anus inside her hot little hole, he sank his teeth into her neck.
As he drew her blood into his mouth, Frannie came apart. She groaned, not a feminine little mewl—this was a full-throated, I’m-gonna-die groan. She rode him like a jockey on a thoroughbred racehorse, bent low over the saddle, pumping up and down, the strokes shorter still, faster. Sweat moistened her skin, trickled down her neck. And her cunt…
It caressed him end to root with writhing contractions that milked his cock, encouraging him to give up his cum. Niall mouthed her neck as he sucked and fucked her ass with his finger until he felt the shuddering climax that broke over her, tightening her pussy around his sex.
Frannie screamed, and finally, Niall gave himself over to the release that tightened his thighs, balls, and cock to stone as come gushed up into her body in an endless, scorching stream.
A groan wrenched from his throat, and he withdrew his teeth to lap at her neck to close the punctures as waning pulses emptied the last of his come inside her body.
“I take it you didn’t get a mouthful of formaldehyde?” Frannie asked, gasping for breath.
Niall snorted and pulled out his finger. Then gliding his hands over her back, he gave her a bone-crushing hug. “No. You were delicious.” He kissed her neck and let his head fall back to the floor, dragging air into his starved lungs.
Frannie grinned down at him. “I was fantastic, wasn’t I?”
“The best I ever had, baby.” He clasped the back of her head and brought her down until he could bless her lips with a kiss. “What do you think of vampire sex now?”
A deep rosy blush colored her cheeks. “I’m not sure. The sucking part was incredible. The other was…a little embarrassing.”
Niall waggled his eyebrows. “You loved that part. Just wait until I give it to you full-on in the ass, sweetheart.”
“Augh! The things you say.” Her cheeks flamed scarlet. “I don’t think that would work.”
He couldn’t help teasing her a bit more. “Why not?”
Her gaze dropped to his chest. “You’re too big,” she said in a little voice.
He pretended he didn’t note her embarrassment. “I’ll fit. You’ll see,” he said cheerfully.
A frown creased her brow, and she opened her mouth wide over a very loud yawn—too loud to be real. “Lord, I’m tired.”
Frannie
’s passionate nature pleased him. Her modesty, despite the fact their bodies were still joined, amused the hell out of him. He let her change the subject. “Are you hungry?”
Her gaze lit with enthusiasm. “Mmm-hmm.”
“I’ve snacks in the fridge. What’s your pleasure?”
“It’s odd.” She wrinkled her nose—an endearing expression to him now. “Chocolate used to be my idea of a heavenly snack—but I’m dreaming of chopped liver and steak.”
“You have new appetites. Lusty appetites.” His smile stretched his mouth.
“I’ll say I do,” she muttered.
“Let’s eat. Then if you’re really good—I’ll show you how much your ass will love a little fuckin’.”
Frannie jerked upright, which did interesting things to his cock still lodged inside her body. “Don’t say that!”
“Why not?” he asked, trying to keep his attention on the conversation instead of his renewing vigor.
“Because you’re embarrassing me.”
Niall pushed back her hair from her face. “What if I told you,” he said, dropping his voice to rumble, “that you can ask me anything—any nasty thing you want—and I’ll give it to you?”
“I’d say…this is a little overwhelming.” Her eyes grew alarmingly moist. “And I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“Then tell me to go slow, and I will,” he said softly. “When you’re ready for darker adventures, just say so.”
Frannie gifted him with a shy smile. “Sounds like a deal.”
He smacked her bottom and moved her off his body. “Time to eat.”
*
Frannie stood naked in the kitchen, sure her blush painted every bit of her skin. She’d never flaunted her body like this before a man. Of course, Vinnie had been her one and only, and he preferred a little modesty.
Not so, Niall. The man bent to retrieve a packet of liver from the bottom of the fridge, not the least disturbed that he gave her a delicious glimpse of his balls between his legs, and the long dangling cock that fascinated her endlessly.
She felt a little proud that she’d taken all that length inside her body. Her breasts tingled, and she knew if he looked at her now, he would see her growing arousal.
He straightened and cast her a devilish glance over his shoulder. The man knew exactly what he was doing to her. “The question now, is whether you want it raw or slightly cooked.”
Raw! The way he’d drawled the word conjured visions of hot, sweaty sex. Frannie dropped her gaze to the packet of meat in his hand, glad to have an excuse to look away from the slight smile curving his lips. Lips that had sucked her nipples until she’d been ready to scream. “Cooked!” Even to her own ears her voice sounded hoarse.
His mouth stretched to a full-fledged grin. “Seared on the outside, juicy on the inside, hmm?”
Her nipples beaded instantly, and Frannie fought the urge to cover them with her hands.
Niall chuckled and turned up the flame on the stove, and then retrieved a frying pan and oil from beneath the counter. He quickly had the liver frying in the pan.
Frannie inhaled the smell of the sizzling meat, and her stomach growled. “I think it’s done.”
He raised one eyebrow. “It’s barely cooked.”
He was right. The meat was a pale gray and blood oozed from inside. Frannie licked her lips. “I know, but I’m craving a little—”
“Juice?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She could hardly wait for it to cool enough to slip a bite into her mouth.
With tongs, he piled the bite-sized chunks on a plate and set it on the counter between them, pulling out stools for them to sit on. Armed with forks, they attacked the food. It was the oddest snack Frannie had ever enjoyed, but she ate every morsel.
When they’d finished, she pushed away the plate. “So what happens now?”
“Is that your way of asking for more sex?”
Frannie rolled her eyes. “No, I mean. What am I going to do now? I can’t go home.”
Niall covered her hand with his and squeezed. “I made you. You’re my responsibility. I’ll take care of you.”
Frannie sat frozen; a twinge of pain twisted inside her chest. She pulled her hand from beneath his. “But that’s part of the problem. My problem.” She turned on the stool to face him, trying her best not to notice the impressive erection that rose from his lap.
In fact, everything about the man was pretty impressive. His chest was broad, lightly furred, and heavily muscled. His waist tapered to narrow hips. The picture of his equally impressive, heavily muscled ass as he’d bent down in front of the refrigerator would inspire wet fantasies forever.
But she needed to stand her ground on this issue. “I’ve always been taken care of. If I’d been more independent, I wouldn’t have hooked up with a guy who repeatedly cheated on me—and then stayed with him.”
Niall drew a deep breath, and his expression grew serious. “I won’t ever cheat on you, Frannie. I promise you that.”
His dark blue eyes stared straight into hers, and she believed him.
“I can make you happy. I’ll show you how to go about this life.”
Fighting the ripening desire that pooled between her thighs, Frannie shook her head. “No.” She wanted more. If she couldn’t have a hearts-and-roses kind of love, she wouldn’t settle for a relationship that was so one-sided. Sex couldn’t be the only thing she gave him. “I know I need someplace to stay—until I get on my feet. But I need a job and to learn to take care of myself.”
A frown lent a darker kind of beauty to his face. His jaw hardened.
A little thrill of alarm pricked the back of her neck.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “Don’t you like the company?”
“Of course I do. That’s not the point. I hardly know you, but you’re talking about eternity.” And you aren’t talking about even the possibility of love.
“Are you holdin’ a grudge against me for turnin’ you?”
“Of course not. That wasn’t your fault—my dying. What you did to save me was—well, I thank you for that. I understand now.”
He snorted, and his expression grew darker.
Frannie suspected this was the man who dared to stand up to the Gambuti crime family. Oddly, that hint of danger made her all the hotter. She cleared her throat. “What am I supposed to do while you’re out making a living for us both?”
“Whatever it was you did before,” he said with an irritated wave of his hand. “I have money. I’ve had several lifetimes to accumulate a bit. I work because I’m accustomed to workin’.”
Frannie lifted her chin. “I don’t want to do the things I did before. I was getting bored, anyway.” She tamped down a twinge of regret. “I mean, I thought eventually I’d have kids, and they’d fill my life.” She aimed a glare straight at him. “But that’s not gonna happen now, is it?”
“No, it’s not. Are you holdin’ that against me?”
She gave it a little thought, knowing her pause would give him a moment to stew. But the truth was, she hadn’t been all that keen on having kids. “I guess not, but a girl likes to have options—you just removed one.”
His eyes narrowed, and his hands fisted on his naked thighs. “Then what would you like to do, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice deadly even.
Frannie swallowed, wondering if maybe she’d pushed him too far. What would he do if he really got mad? “Maybe you could teach me to drive, and I could get my own taxi.”
One side of his mouth quirked up in a semblance of a smile—but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was a mean smile. “You want to be a taxi driver, like me?
Her heart stuttered, then began to beat a slow, thrumming tattoo. Moisture seeped from her pussy to wet the leather stool beneath her bottom. Did he know how hot she was getting? Sure her nipples couldn’t bead any tighter or poke out at him any farther, Frannie dared one more prick. She lifted her chin. “Yeah. I want my own cab.”
That wicked grin spread acros
s his mouth. “Sweetheart, there’s somethin’ I forgot to tell you.”
Frannie shivered at the powerful aura of amused masculinity that emanated from the man ranging on the stool across from her.
He looked deceptively lazy—like a lion sitting on his haunches just before pouncing on its next meal.
“Look, I know driving taxis at night’s a little dangerous,” she said nervously, “but I’ve got like super-powers, right?”
“You’d still be vulnerable, but that’s not what I’m talkin’ about.”
“Then what is it? You don’t want me to make my own living? Don’t you want me to be my own person?”
“No, love. I’m not taxi driver.”
Chapter Four
‡
“You’re not a taxi driver?”
Niall slipped off his stool, which put his body—his very naked, flagrantly aroused body—inches from Frannie. If she bent over just a few measly inches, she could take his cock into her mouth.
By the heavy-lidded look he gave her, he was thinking the same thing, too. “No, I’m not.” He lifted her face with his fingers, and stroked her lower lip with his thumb.
She puckered her lips and kissed his thumb. “Not what?” She sighed.
“A taxi driver.”
She swayed toward him, drawn by the heat in his gaze. “Then what are you?”
“You mean, besides the man who’s goin’ to fuck you into a coma?”
She swayed dreamily closer. “You can do that?” What had they been talking about? She straightened and cleared her throat. “Yeah, I mean besides the coma thing.” She didn’t bother trying to deny she didn’t want to explore that claim.
He lifted her hand where she’d clenched it on her thigh and brought it to his erection. “You know, you were right. You don’t really know me.” His hand guided hers along his lengthening shaft.
Frannie gripped it hard, as excited by the harsh baritone his voice had slipped into, as she was by the heated steel beneath her hand. She moved on her seat, rubbing her swollen pussy on the surface, smelling her own growing arousal. “Tell me what you are,” she said, her own voice made husky by the desire tightening every muscle in her body.
Frannie and The Private Dick (Night Fall Book 7) Page 4
