“You don’t have to make this more embarrassing than it already is. You’re making me blush.”
The word “ass” seemed to be a hot button. He rested his palms on her backside. “Your blush doesn’t extend to your ass. Maybe I should do something to warm it up?”
“Like what?”
“I thought you didn’t want me to tell you?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you going to spank me?”
“It’s your choice. I can spank your bottom or fuck it. Which is it to be?”
Frannie buried her face in the bedding again. “Stop saying that!”
The word “fuck” got an even bigger response. He swatted her. “Okay, I’ll do both.”
“No! Just…the ass thing,” she said, her voice thin as the air.
“Which ass thing?” he asked, glad she couldn’t see the grin curving his mouth.
“You know,” she said, exasperation making her moan.
“Then a fucking it is.” He squeezed her bottom. “But first, we need the magic lubricant.”
Her head lifted. “What magic lubricant?”
“K-Y.”
Her hands went back over her ears. “I don’t want to hear any more.”
“I’d hate for you to be afraid. I can explain every step, every penetration—”
“Just do it, damn you!”
“Back in a second.” Niall bounded off the bed, but walking was hampered by his raging erection. When he returned, Frannie was in exactly the same position he’d left her, bent over the stack of pillows, her bottom in the air. But her breaths were shorter, and her fingers clutched the bedding. Good!
He climbed onto the bed, settling between her outspread legs. He laid the tube to the side, just within her range of vision. Smoothing his hands up her inner thighs, he brought both thumbs to her plump labia and spread them open like the petals of a rose. “So, you want to know what I see?” he asked, dropping his voice to a purr. He leaned down to blow a gust of air over her heated, glistening flesh.
“Tell me.”
“It’s the most beautiful sight a man will ever behold—a woman’s pussy, slicked with the cream of her arousal. Plump, rosy lips that guard a secret portal. When he spreads them wide, he finds a deep, dark secret, waiting for discovery.” He pushed two fingers inside and twisted as he drove them deeper.
Frannie’s buttocks tensed, and her knees dug into the mattress. “Tell me more.”
Niall bent closer and lapped the short space between her cunt and her tightly furled hole while he continued to finger-fuck her pussy. “Between the pale mountains of bottom, is an arrow that points to a set of lips only the luckiest man will ever kiss.” He tongued her ass, lapping with the flat of his tongue, then tunneling the tip into the hole.
Frannie shivered but didn’t protest. Mewls, soft as a baby kitten’s, tore from her throat.
Niall noted a fresh release of moisture seeping from her cunt. She was almost there. He reached for the K-Y and squeezed a dollop onto the tip of one finger. Then he rubbed the finger around her pink rosette until it glistened invitingly. “Shall I tell you how it feels for a man to dive into unexplored territory?”
“You’re killing me, Niall,” she said, her tone holding a hint of warning.
“If all goes well, you’ll be the one experiencing the ‘little death’.”
“You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Of course, I am.” He kissed each glowing cheek. “I always love loving you, Frannie.”
“No, you’re making fun of me. I know I’m not very experienced—”
Niall gave her ass a squeeze. “I’m sorry if you thought I was making light of this, sweetheart. I was only trying to help you relax.” He drew back. “I’ll stop if you like.”
“Don’t you dare! I’m…ready for this.” She glanced back, uncertainty shadowing her eyes. “But if I don’t like it, will we have to do it again?”
He gave her a tender smile. “If you don’t enjoy the hell out of it—it’ll be my fault. And I won’t ask it of you again.”
Her hands tightened their grip on the bedding and she braced herself like she was preparing for a firing squad. “Then…then tell me what a man feels when he dives into unexplored territory.”
Niall kissed her bottom again before proceeding. “If he has an ounce of caution in him, he learns as much about the area as he can.” Niall pressed his thumb into her ass, his breath catching at the tightness of the muscles that resisted his penetration. His cock throbbed in empathy. “Sweet Jesus!” He gave a little moan then got hold of himself. “Sometimes he has to take timid steps into the darkness, test the water with his toes.” He withdrew and pressed two fingers inside, gently pulsing to ease the constriction.
Frannie groaned, her head thrashing on the bed.
So far, so good. She hadn’t screamed bloody murder—yet. Niall pushed deeper and twisted his wrist, forcing the ring of muscle to loosen fractionally. Christ, she was tight. He had to be inside her now. He pulled out and reached for the tube again, spreading the gel on his cock, lubing himself like an axle.
Then Niall centered himself between her legs and spread her buttocks apart.
Frannie rose up on her arms, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly with her shallow breaths. “You aren’t talking to me.”
“I’ve lost the power of speech—Jesus, Frannie I can’t wait.” Niall placed his cock at her opening and pressed his hips forward.
Frannie gasped. His cock inched inside, and she sobbed.
Niall closed his eyes. The sight of her trembling body was one sensory detail too many to take. He concentrated on the feel of her asshole, easing around his cock, allowing him to slide deeper. Her inner muscles squeezed him, massaging his length, while never letting up the pressure. “Frannie—you’re so damn tight. And hot! Baby, I have to move.”
“Oh God! Oh God!” she moaned, as he started to pump gently in and out. “I’ve never felt so full. Move! Move!”
Niall gauged his thrusts, some shallow, some deep, but always sleek, gliding movements to gently introduce her to this new pleasure. Her body shuddered and her buttocks tensed, but she pushed back fractionally, telling him with her body how she enjoyed this fucking.
Ever mindful of her virgin flight, Niall gradually increased the depths of his deeper thrusts, plunging into her heat, angling slightly left and right to vary the sensation.
But Frannie grew impatient with his gentle tutoring; she slammed back against him sharply, encouraging him to increase the force of his thrusts.
Sweat broke on Niall’s forehead and back as he strained to keep control, but Frannie made it impossible for him to hold onto his resolve to be gentle. He reached between her legs and cupped her pussy, grinding his palm against her there.
Frannie’s bottom jerked, and she cried out, flinging back her head to ride the storm breaking over her.
Niall shoved his fingers into her pussy, and fucked her with his hand while his cock stroked inside her ass, harder and harder.
A keening scream erupted from Frannie, and Niall felt her orgasm burn through her as her vagina convulsed around his fingers and her ass constricted tightly around his cock.
Then he felt the change come over him. He’d fought the monster looming within him each time they’d made love, not wanting to frighten her or harm her with his brutish strength. Or worse, encourage hers to rise. That Frannie hadn’t discovered the one inside herself was a testament to her gentle soul, but his body’s need was growing beyond his control, overriding his better intentions.
The bones on his forehead crackled as they reshaped, his muscles bulged outward as the vampire inside him gained supremacy. His teeth slid from his gums, and he opened his mouth wide in preparation for the bite.
Frannie moaned and jerked, her body erupting anew in response to his quickening. Niall leaned over her back, jerking his hips to continue his sensual assault while seeking the tender side of her neck.
Her head tilted to the side, a
nd he bit deeply, suctioning through his teeth, drawing her life into his mouth. His body exploded.
Afterward, he closed the tiny wounds, withdrew his sex, and cradled Frannie’s limp body in his arms. His rubbed his face on her shoulder to assure himself he no longer wore his monster’s mask and gave a deep contented sigh.
Eventually, Frannie stirred and looked over shoulder to gift him with a brilliant smile. “Where did all that stuff come from?”
Niall stiffened. “What stuff?” Had she seen him?
“The things you said about me—down there. They were beautiful.”
He managed a weak smile and said, “I’m Irish; we’re all born with a poet’s gene.”
She arched one fine brow. “I’m not sure if I shouldn’t be offended by you comparing my ass to a mountain.”
“I assure you, love, you’re more like the gently curved Appalachians than the Himalayans.”
She covered his hands with hers and squeezed, wriggling her bottom against his groin until she was comfortable, and he was not. “Then that’s okay…I guess.”
“Ready to go dine on diners?” he asked, teasing her with her earlier threat.
“Can we order in instead?” She grinned. “I’m not sure I have the energy to get out of bed.”
“Well-hung delivery boys will not be on the menu.”
“Just one?” she asked in a wheedling tone.
When she was sweet, he couldn’t deny her a thing. He gave a growl. “So long as the only one doin’ the bitin’ is me.”
Chapter Six
‡
Frannie squinted at the row of letters appearing on the nice, neat labels listed in orderly succession on the computer screen and sighed with satisfaction. The plastic files, free of grubby fingerprints, were almost ready for the drawer.
Fresh dividers were already done and propped between her coffee cup and the printer. “Poland”, “Iceland”, “Norway”, “Scotland”. Frannie didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for not returning the files to their former, unimaginative order—besides, she figured Niall could never let her go if he couldn’t find a thing in the cabinet.
A soft knock sounded on the office door, and Frannie peered through the glass.
Two women, dressed in black like a pair of crows, hovered outside.
Frannie waved at her mama and Zia Grazia and motioned for them to enter.
“Hello, Mama.” She rushed over and bussed her cheek.
Donatella Valentine drew back warily and looked into her eyes for a long moment. Then she relaxed and patted her cheek. “You need to eat more.” She blanched instantly.
Frannie laughed and drew her to a chair, and then fetched another for Zia Grazia before taking her own seat. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“If the mountain won’t come…” Zia Grazia leaned forward and stared at her. “You have the look, all right.”
“What look is that?” Frannie said loudly, expecting another of Zia Grazia’s rare but startlingly odd observations.
“Like you’re in love.”
Frannie smiled and stared at her elderly aunt. “You can tell from just one look?”
“I’m eighty-one,” she said with a nod. “You learn a thing or two over time.”
“I have a question to ask you, Zia Mia,” Frannie said, using her childhood nickname for her dour, old aunt. “At the funeral home, I thought I heard you laughing when I was running away. How come you weren’t afraid for me?”
“Have a cousin,” Zia Grazia barked. “She got turned back in the Depression. Sends me birthday cards. Last one from Florida. Might go for a visit. The heat’ll be good for my bones.”
Frannie shook her head. “You knew I was a vampire?”
“You were dead—then you weren’t.” The old woman gave another emphatic nod then fell silent.
“She gave me Niall’s number,” her mother said softly so her aunt couldn’t hear.
“I don’t understand.”
“We were both worried about you. That Vinnie was no good. So when I said how I was thinking about hiring a man to follow Vinnie—she gives me his number.” Her mother held up a finger next to her nose. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she knew.”
Frannie shook her head again. She was over the blame game, but life sure was strange. Perhaps God had a sense of humor after all.
Her mother’s gaze bored into hers. “So are you happy, honey?”
Worried by the shadows in her mama’s eyes, Frannie gave her mother a hug. “I have a job, a new place to decorate—”
“And a man who puts roses in your cheeks?”
Frannie smiled brightly, ignoring the little twinge of sadness in her chest. Niall was good to her—playful, loving, giving—but he hadn’t said he loved her. “I’m getting there, Mama.”
“Good enough. Don’t rush things—you have eternity to get it right.” Donatella patted Frannie’s knee. “So tell me, where’s that vampire studmuffin of yours?”
Frannie’s eyes widened at her mother’s coarse comment.
Her mama winked. “I’m old—I’m not dead.”
“Told her he was the man for the job,” Zia Grazia shouted.
*
Frannie had just seen the women to their cab when the phone rang. “Niall Keegan’s office.”
“Need to talk to Mr. Keegan,” a man said, his voice barely audible.
“Mr. Keegan’s not here, can I take a message?”
“Give me his cell number.”
Frannie didn’t care for his furtive tone or the way he framed his demand. “I’m his…partner. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Tell him, Packie called. Got a make on Gunter Koch.”
“Gunter Cock? Is he German?”
The man was silent for a moment. “Just tell Keegan, he’s holed up in a hotel off Broadway. This is the address.”
Frannie quickly jotted it down, her heart racing. ‘Cock’ wasn’t a name in the “regular” file cabinet. “I’ll make sure he gets the message.”
As soon as she hung up, Frannie dashed to Niall’s office and sifted through the DVs. ‘Gunter Koch’ was in the center of them. She laid the message beside the folder, read the scant notes Niall had carefully filed away, then held up the grainy photo. Gunter Koch was one handsome man—in a scary sort of way. Blond, shoulder-length hair, a square jaw, and piercing, dark eyes. But strangely she couldn’t find a clue about the point of Niall’s investigation. Just a list of names—names that were familiar to her from listening to Vinnie’s one-sided calls with his “associates”.
Frannie glanced at the clock. Niall wasn’t due back until hours later. Chewing on her lip, she wondered whether she should call him or…
She went to the large cabinet that held the tools of Niall’s trade and found a camera with a telescoping lens. She’d been practicing with it every night after Niall left on one of his cases.
Gathering a notepad and her purse, she quickly called a cab and hurried downstairs to meet it. If all went well, Niall wouldn’t be able to deny her—if not a full partnership—at least an apprenticeship.
Francesca Valentine, Apprentice PI. She liked the ring of that.
*
Niall’s steps lightened as he unlocked the office door. Frannie would be happy he was back early. More and more, he hated leaving her behind when he left for a job. He worried about her and missed her company. A grin kicked up one side of his mouth. Man, was he ever whipped—and loving it.
In fact, he was pretty sure he loved Frannie. Feisty, nutty as a fruitcake Frannie. He couldn’t even work up a good growl when he couldn’t find a thing in that damn file cabinet. She’d have to stick around just to hunt down his case files.
Niall expected her to pop her head around the door to greet him, but the office was quiet. Too quiet. All his instincts told him she hadn’t just run next door to the bathroom. He hurried into his office and saw the note and the open file on his desk.
Gunter Koch—Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Frannie was trying to t
ail one of his DVs—Dangerous Vampires. He kept tabs on them, letting the Masters’ Council know whenever they pulled up stakes and moved location. Not that Frannie had a clue what sort of trouble she was heading into.
He had to stop her before Koch got wind that someone was spying on him. The man was volatile, moody, with business connections to two crime families—and his enemies had a way of disappearing.
*
Frannie was feeling very proud of herself. She’d finessed Koch’s apartment number from the doorman, helping herself to a bite to help him forget. He’d also offered her the little tidbit that Koch was throwing a party.
Glad she’d opted for a sleek black pantsuit, she left her jacket, purse, and camera in a bundle behind a trashcan, unbuttoned her blouse to just between her breasts, and fluffed out her hair. Now she was ready to party crash. She’d beard the lion in his den—or at least figure out the scoop on him, firsthand.
Letting herself in the front door, Frannie snuck a glass of champagne from an abandoned tray next in the foyer and pasted on a plastic smile. She rounded the corner and entered a smoke-filled room crammed with partygoers. Bobbing her head to the music blaring from a DJ’s speakers, she studied the faces of each of the guests, searching for her mark.
“Do I know you?” a deep, harshly accented voice drawled from just behind her.
Frannie turned to find Gunter Koch standing right behind her. She smiled brightly, hoping he didn’t see a flare of panic in her eyes. “Not yet. I was waiting to be introduced,” she said smoothly.
“By whom?”
She drew in a nervous breath. “He’s around here somewhere.” She took a sip of the champagne, and then gestured to the crowd. “It’s some party you have here.”
“I think you are not on the guest list.”
Frannie’s eyes widened at the hint of menace in his voice. Her heart nearly stopped beating when his finger trailed along her cheek.
“But I can guess why you are here.”
“Y-you can?”
“But of course. Every vamp miss wants to taste the delights I offer.”
“Delights? You have liver?”
Frannie and The Private Dick (Night Fall Book 7) Page 7
