The Trouble With Vampires (An Argeneau Novel)

by Lynsay Sands

  Pet gasped and shuddered as he began to draw on the sensitive nub, her arms closing around his head. But when his teeth grazed the aching bud, she caught his ears and tried to urge him back to kissing her in a bid to stop the almost painful pleasure. Much to her relief, Santo released the excited nipple at once, but only to shift to the side and claim the other one.

  Moaning, “Oh, God,” Pet shifted her hands to his shoulders and dug her nails in, her lower body grinding against the hardness she could feel beneath her.

  Santo groaned in response, the sound vibrating against her breast and then he suckled harder, almost painfully as his hands slid under her bottom and squeezed and kneaded eagerly.

  Pet murmured something nonsensical even to herself and let her head tip back as her body responded to the caresses, and then gasped when his hands shifted lower and together so that his fingers were brushing against where the cheeks met and farther forward where she was most sensitive.

  “Santo, please,” she gasped, her bottom squirming into his touch.

  He responded at once by letting one hand slide under to drift over the more sensitive area. Straddling his legs as Pet was, that part of her was completely open to him, and she shuddered and groaned as his fingers grazed her damp core.

  “Yes,” Pet gasped when the groan ended, her hips shifting into the caress, only to groan again as his fingers left her. But he was just moving his hand around to the front to caress her more easily, she realized when his hand slid between her legs again.

  She raised herself to a kneeling position when he urged her upward. It lifted her breast out of his reach, but Pet didn’t care when his hand began to caress her, his talented fingers gliding over her slick flesh in quick firm motions, and then slower teasing ones. He was very skilled, and Pet had the mad thought that she wished she could thank those three thousand women for their aid in making him so skilled.

  She gasped in surprise when he nipped at her stomach and then pressed his mouth over the spot and sucked gently, and then his hand withdrew, and he caught her by the upper thighs and raised her in front of him, his tongue and lips trailing down her stomach. Pet’s eyes widened and she grabbed for his head and then didn’t even have that to hold on to as she found herself suddenly standing with her feet on either side of his hips as he buried his mouth between her thighs and lashed her with his tongue.

  Pet cried out softly, her shaky legs collapsing, but he merely pushed the backs of her knees forward to press against the back of the chair as he continued to devour her. But when she curled forward, over his head, he suddenly shifted forward.

  Eyes opening, Pet gasped as she found herself falling backward, but his hands shifted, holding her bottom and her back as he laid her down on the footstool in front of the chair. It was as wide as the chair, perhaps three feet by two feet, and he set her down so that her head rested just at the edge. She opened her eyes as she felt the cool cloth against her back, and then he raised up to kiss her.

  He was kneeling at the end of the footstool now, her knees spread on either side of his hips, his body bent over hers and one hand keeping his weight off of her as his other slid between her legs to fondle her where his mouth had so recently been pleasuring her.

  Pet moaned and slid her arms around his neck to kiss him urgently back. Her feet pushed at the floor, lifting her hips into his caress, and then he broke the kiss and his mouth moved to a spot below her ear, before sliding down her throat. He licked and nipped his way down to one breast and then over to the other, his fingers never stopping, but slowing and gentling just when she was sure she was about to tumble headfirst into the release that was waiting for her, only to start moving more quickly and firmly again once she’d calmed. He just kept pushing her to the edge and then pulling her back until she thought she might hurt him if he’d didn’t stop, and then his mouth was traveling down her stomach.

  The muscles in Pet’s belly began to ripple under the assault, and she drew her knees up. Planting her feet on either side of his shoulders, she dug in, pushing her body up the footstool until her head was hanging off the end and her center was at a more convenient spot for his mouth to reach.

  Apparently, recognizing what she wanted, Santo chuckled against the skin of her stomach, but he wouldn’t be rushed. He simply shifted to continue nipping and licking her stomach, the hand between her legs driving her absolutely mad as his mouth made its desultory journey down to caress the crease where her leg met her body.

  Pet was gasping and crying out, her body trembling and shuddering as his wonderful mouth followed that sensitive crease downward. But then he finally removed his fingers from between her legs, used both hands to spread her legs as wide as they would go, and then ducked his head between her thighs.

  The first brush of his tongue across her sensitive skin had her covering her own mouth with her hand to keep from crying out in both pleasure and protest, and then he settled in and feasted on her. That was the only description for what Santo did, he nibbled and then suckled on the folds that sheltered her core, and then pressed them open and laved every inch of the flesh he exposed, before settling on the growing bud of her excitement and suckling at that.

  Pet’s heart was hammering like a drum, her head twisting frantically, she was clutching desperately at the sides of the footstool and murmuring nonsensical nothings as her body threatened to come apart, and then he slid one large finger into her as he sucked hard on her clit and the world exploded around her. Pet was vaguely aware of screaming and reached up quickly to cover her mouth, but instead she ended up biting it as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, until it finally dragged her into unconsciousness.

  Pet woke up in Santo’s arms. Blinking her eyes open, she peered up at him with confusion and then glanced around as she realized they were moving. He was carrying her down the short hall to her bedroom.

  “What happened?” she murmured, giving her head a shake to try to wake herself up properly. “Did I faint?”

  “Sì.” His voice was a soft rumble as he carried her through her open bedroom door.

  “I’m sorry. I must have had more to drink than I realized,” she muttered with embarrassment, and flushed with more embarrassment when she glanced down to see that her sexy nightie was now nothing more than a wad of cloth around her waist about the size of a belt. She’d barely taken note of that when he released her legs and then set her on her feet beside the bed. Her nightie belt immediately dropped to pool around her feet.

  Pet stared down at it blankly, and then lifted her gaze to the man who had just given her the greatest pleasure of her life.

  Santo reached for his shirt, hesitated, and then asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

  “Oh, God no.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, but Pet didn’t regret the admission much. They were true. She didn’t want him to leave. Now that she was waking up and remembering what had happened before she’d passed out, that was the last thing she wanted.

  Santo smiled and then tugged his shirttails out of his jeans and pulled the shirt up his chest to remove it.

  Pet gasped as he did. The man was absolutely gorgeous. Exquisite. His muscles, his skin, the hair on his chest . . . all of it was perfect. He was a marble Adonis come to life and she fell on him like a slavering dog, her hands moving over his lovely skin even before he had the shirt off over his head.

  She felt his hands come to rest on her hips once he’d finished with his shirt, but ignored them in favor of trailing her fingers over his six-pack stomach and then letting them glide up to explore his pecs. The man had a body to rival Dwayne Johnson’s when he played Hercules, all muscle and power, and dear God, he was beautiful.

  “Thank you,” Pet whispered suddenly and pressed a kiss to the very center of his chest.

  “What for?” The question was a husky growl that made her shiver and squeeze her thighs together.

  “For the pleasure you gave me,” she answered. Moving her head to the right, Pet gave the areola
around that nipple a quick lick and added, “Now it’s your turn,” before closing her lips over his nipple.

  Santo grunted in surprise and then let his breath out on a moan as she gave the small hard nib the attention he’d paid to hers earlier. She felt his hands glide into her hair and clasp her skull, but was distracted by the pleasure sliding through her own body as she drew on his nipple. It was almost like their roles were somehow reversed and he was doing the licking, nipping, and suckling to her body again. Or like she was experiencing his pleasure, Pet thought, which was impossible. She couldn’t read minds.

  When one of her questing hands drifted over to pluck at and toy with his other nipple while she continued to attend the first, her pleasure increased and Santo groaned, his hands dropping to her back and urging her tighter against him. The hardness that pressed against her stomach drew her attention then, and she released his nipple and glanced down as she reached for the snap of his jeans.

  Santo immediately reached down to help, unzipping his pants himself. Her eyes widened incredulously when his erection immediately shoved its way out of the tight jeans. Oh, yeah, he was perfect . . . and the size large condoms she had definitely weren’t going to fit.

  No problem, Pet told herself. He’d given her pleasure, now she’d give him pleasure, and tomorrow she’d buy the largest condoms she could find and invite him over for dinner again. If he was still in town. That thought made her frown, but then she pushed it away to concentrate on what she was doing as her hand closed around him.

  Her touch made Santo hiss through his teeth with shock, but Pet was too distracted by the jolt of pleasure that shot through her to notice. Fascinated by her body’s reaction to touching him, she dropped to her knees and immediately took him into her mouth. Santo’s hands knotted in her hair, and he groaned loudly as her lips closed over him. Pet groaned in response as her own body was assailed by pleasure and for one moment she froze, but then she went with it. She began to explore, moving her mouth slowly, then quickly, wrapping her hand around the base in front of her mouth and tightening, then loosening her grip experimentally as her hand followed her mouth’s movement, and finally lashing him with her tongue too as she found the rhythm that caused the most pleasure in her.

  Santo was alternating between groaning and muttering words to her in Italian that might have been endearments, praise, or a recipe for all she knew, but they sounded beautiful to her ears as she gave them both pleasure. Unlike Santo, she did not have the stamina to prolong this interlude. She wanted the release again, so when Santo pulled on her hair, trying to make her stop just as she was reaching that pinnacle of excitement before the tumble into ecstasy, Pet resisted him. In the end, he let her take them both over the edge. She heard him shout something in Italian that she was quite sure was a curse, but caught up in her own, stunning orgasm as she was, Pet barely had the presence of mind to remove her mouth to keep from biting him as she started to convulse before losing consciousness.

  Thirteen

  “Here you are, sir. Miss.”

  Pet managed a smile for the man holding out her chair, took her seat, and murmured, “Thank you.” But the moment he moved away, she cast her eyes around the room he’d led them to with something approaching alarm. Santo had brought her to one of the finest restaurants in Albany, one where you usually had to book well ahead. She had no idea how he’d managed to get them in, especially in this private room, but knew it must be costing him a mint. It was a room that included a good-sized cooking area separated from the dining side of the room by an island. It also included a private chef who cooked where you could see the action. It was meant for smaller parties to have private celebrations. Smaller being ten to eighteen people, not two.

  Shaking her head, Pet turned helplessly to Santo, feeling like she was heading for a cliff at top speed and not going to be able to save herself from going over. But then she’d been feeling like that since waking the second time last night. She’d woken up cradled in Santo’s arms in bed rather than on her bedroom floor, which had been a nice surprise. But that surprise had soon been followed by concern as she acknowledged that she’d fainted again. That issue was soon pushed aside, however, by the memory of how her kissing and touching him had given her so much pleasure.

  Pet had just decided it must be some immortal thing and raised her head to ask him about that, but the moment she lifted her face to his, Santo had kissed her. That’s all he’d done, however. He’d given her a hungry, hard kiss that got her all worked up and then slid from the bed and began to dress.

  “Where are you going?” she’d asked with dismay.

  “I have to get back to take my shift watching the Purdy house,” Santo had said apologetically.

  Pet had been terribly disappointed but had climbed from bed to see him out, her mind fretting over whether she’d see him again. It wasn’t until they were at the door that he’d said he’d be back today if that was all right with her. When she’d nodded in mute agreement, he’d cracked his first smile since waking and said not to worry about dinner. He’d take care of it.

  It was only once she’d crawled back into bed and found her mind going back over the night that she’d realized she was obsessing like a teenager with a crush. Pet had reassured herself it was just the new sex. That always made it spicier and left you jonesing for more, she’d reassured herself. After the next night, she’d calm down.

  Pet had spent the whole day at work today excited and looking forward to seeing Santo and getting to experience more of the pleasure she’d found in his arms. She’d even stopped at a drugstore after giving her last lecture of the day, and picked up the largest sized condoms she could find. Tonight, she planned on finally having him in her, and she’d thought of nothing else but that as she’d driven to Parker’s school to pick him up. They’d go home, Santo would come over, they’d have dinner and watch another movie with Parker, then her nephew would go to bed, and she and Santo would play.

  It was when she and Parker had got home that her plan had started to unravel. They’d arrived to find Santo, Julius, and Marguerite waiting. The presence of the other couple had been alarming enough, but Santo in an expensive and beautifully tailored dark blue suit with a pale blue shirt and bloodred tie had nearly had her hyperventilating as she worried over what was happening.

  What was happening was that she was going on a date. It was Marguerite who had announced that tidbit, saying Santo had mentioned he wished he could take her on one, and so she and Julius had volunteered to keep Parker company while he did. A table was booked, he was all dressed, and Marguerite was going to help her prepare so they would make their reservation in time.

  The woman had kept up a constant chatter as she’d fixed Pet’s hair and makeup and then picked out her dress. Marguerite had chosen Pet’s favorite. One she’d bought late last year but never had an occasion to wear. Or perhaps the nerve, she acknowledged. It was an off-the-shoulder sheath cocktail dress in bloodred satin. It was beautiful, and made her feel beautiful, and perfectly matched Santo’s tie.

  “What is wrong?” Santo asked quietly, taking in her expression.

  Pet lowered her gaze as she began absently fiddling with the silverware next to her plate. “Nothing. This is lovely.”

  “But?” he prompted.

  She hesitated, but then met his gaze and said, “But this is expensive, and you didn’t have to do it. I would have been perfectly happy with fast food and a movie with Parker.”

  Santo nodded solemnly. “But then I would have missed seeing you in that gown.”

  When Pet’s eyes widened in surprise at the compliment, he asked, “Do you not realize you are the most beautiful woman here tonight?”

  Pet blinked and then grinned and pointed out, “I’m the only woman in here tonight.”

  Santo glanced around the room and scowled as he realized his compliment was ruined. Sighing, he said, “Sì. But you truly are beautiful, Pet. To me, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. The only woman in the wo
rld.”

  “Oh,” Pet breathed, and then frowned down at her plate, trying to regain the equilibrium his words had stolen. She needed to keep a level head. He was immortal, she was mortal. He wouldn’t be here long, she reminded herself, and then glanced up to their waiter as he approached the table. He set a menu before each of them and then poured water into their glasses and asked what they’d like to drink. Santo said he was fine with water. Pet asked for white wine and then turned her attention to her menu.

  “What is pâté?” Santo asked after a moment.

  Pet glanced up and smiled at his bewildered expression. “It’s . . . Order it, I think you’ll like it,” she said in the end, deciding a description probably wouldn’t sound as appetizing as it actually tasted.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “One of my favorites,” she assured him. “In fact, now that you’ve mentioned it, I’m torn. I was thinking of ordering the onion soup.”

  “We will both have onion soup and order the pâté as well then,” he decided. “What is good for the main course, do you think?”

  They looked over the menu together and decided on the handmade ravioli and beef scaloppine with roasted potatoes and seasonal vegetables. The waiter approached with her wine the moment they set down their menus. He whisked away their menus as he took their orders. He didn’t write them down, simply smiled and walked to the island separating the open cooking area from the main part of the room and presumably gave the order orally. At least that was her guess. She couldn’t hear what he said. The far end of the table was close to the island, with enough room for someone to move past the chairs at the end even if they were inhabited. But she and Santo were at the opposite end of the long table that was large enough to seat up to eighteen people. She couldn’t hear the men talk and doubted the chef or the waiter, who had now moved behind the island to set to work, would be able to hear a word they said if they kept their voices down.