Under the Blood Moon
Page 29
“You are way too hard on yourself, Juliette. You’d been in torpor for over two hundred years. I’m kinda amazed you stopped at just one.”
“But . . .”
“Look, I ain’t saying it’s optimal, but sometimes accidents happen and the beast gets the best of us. Don’t go blaming yourself.”
“Tonight was not an accident.”
“Tonight had to happen. Louis and the other Aether had to die. It’s vampire law. Was I surprised when Marc had you do it? Damn straight I was. Gabe usually handles the wetworks.”
“It was a test.”
“And you passed. Far better than Marc expected you to. You showed everyone in that room that you are not to be messed with,” Josh said.
“I had not wanted my tenure as Coven Mistress to begin with blood,” I said.
“Most do.”
“I know.”
“It’ll get better, I promise,” Josh said.
“You are a good man, Joshua Bouchard,” I said as I twisted to face him. “Better than I deserve.” I trailed a manicured finger along his jawline, brushing over his three-day beard growth. Closing the distance between us, I kissed him softly at first and then with increased passion. Josh twined one hand through my hair and cupped the side of my face with the other. It was certainly not our first kiss, but this one was different somehow. It held the expectation of something more. While I was not a blushing virgin, neither was I a skilled seductress. I wasn’t terribly sure how forward I dared be. Luckily, Josh had no such inhibitions.
Josh’s hand slowly left my face and drew me closer. I willingly surrendered into his embrace. Running my hand through his shaggy, dishwater-blond hair, I used the other to lightly trace his spine. The cotton of his shirt was soft and comfortable under my touch. I felt his muscles ripple as he twisted and gently pressed me down onto the sofa.
His left hand still entwined in my hair, Josh nuzzled my neck. His kisses were interspersed with the gentle flicking of his tongue against my skin. I moaned in pleasure and trailed my hand down the base of his spine over his derriere. I was dismayed to find I could feel very little through the thick fabric of his trousers. Well, these will just need to come off soon.
Josh’s right hand skimmed my side, from my breast, past my hips, to my upper thigh, sending shivers of delight through my body. He pulled up my long skirt and his hand finally grazed bare skin. Josh’s green eyes were a hazy mixture of pleasure and desire looking into mine.
He raised slightly and I tried to pull him back down. Propped on one elbow, he smiled down at me. “Juliette, you are a lady and deserve to be made love to properly, on a bed, slowly and many times. We don’t wanna be doing this here like a couple of teenagers. I got a big ole king-sized bed just down the hall we’d be much more comfortable in.”
I smiled back at him. “Lead the way.”
Josh slid off me and stood. Holding his hand out, he helped me to my feet and led me down the hall to his bedroom. He pulled me into a passionate embrace as he closed the door behind us.
My fingers deftly unfastened the row of buttons down the front of his borrowed dress shirt. On his chest was a small, almost star-shaped scar that I gently kissed as I pushed the fabric of his shirt off his shoulders. He reached behind me and lowered the zipper on my dress. The silk slithered to the floor, followed quickly by my underwear. Nibbling his ear, I drank in the clean sent of the soap he had used earlier. Josh backed me toward the bed as I tugged at his belt. Gently, he lowered me to the bed before he pulled off his boots and pants.
Joining me on the bed, Josh took a long look at my body. I was vaguely uncomfortable with the scrutiny until he said, “Perfection, worthy of a masterpiece.” He kissed me deeply, and then his hands and mouth began a very detailed exploration of my body. Josh’s beard stubble tickled as it skimmed across my stomach and down to my inner thigh. His fingers, calloused from guitar playing, were light on my skin. With them, he sent spasms of delight through my body until I couldn’t take any more.
Pushing Josh onto his back, I began my own exploration. I’d seen him without a shirt before, even been held against his bare skin. And while that had not been expressly platonic, neither had it been overtly sexual. This was. I took my time and satisfied my curiosity to his various contours. I was a little hesitant at first but Josh’s complete lack of modesty quickly emboldened me. I liked the freedom it gave me. He was well muscled but not brawny. His derriere was firm, as were other important parts. Josh’s dimple became more pronounced when I straddled him and my long hair fell around us like a veil. Josh groaned and suddenly I was on my back.
Looking up, I studied his face. This was where I wanted to be. I rose and met his lips with mine and guided him to me with my hands.
Josh was a considerate and athletic lover. I quickly found we were quite suited and very hungry for one another. It didn’t take me long to realize why Josh suggested that the sofa might not be a suitable place to make love, and it had nothing to do with me being a lady or propriety. More than once over the course of the next few hours we found ourselves on the floor, laughing and not caring. Making love with Josh was fun and incredibly fulfilling. Eventually, we collapsed, utterly spent. Even our vampire stamina had given out. The bed looked like it had just survived Hurricane Katrina. The sheets were rumpled, some of the blankets hung off the bed, the rest on the floor. Pillows were scattered to Hell and back throughout the room. The only pillow left on the bed was the one Josh and I shared. Neither of us had the energy or inclination to find any of the others.
Softly caressing my lower lip with his fingertip, Josh told me just before dawn, “I have wanted you since the first time I saw you standing barefoot at the top of the stairs at Gautier House. I knew you were the one for me.”
I smiled and let dawn take me.
The End
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About the Author
TRACIE PROVOST grew up all over the US, rarely staying in place for more than a year. She dreamed of becoming an author but decided that career path was not secure enough, so she got a Ph.D. in European History. Despite the odds she faced, she landed a job at a small southern university. Tracie never forgot her dream, however, and began to write again.
Still teaching full time, Tracie divided her time between academic and fiction writing. There is a surprising amount of carryover between the two. In her spare time, she reads, watches bad TV on Netflix, and answers to her numerous feline overlords. The common joke is that Tracie writes to keep her cats in good kibble.