The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

Giselle wrapped her arms around Ry and snuggled into his warm chest. She felt the wild thump of his heart under her ear. Her own still raced.

  “You’re forgiven for the sofa,” she murmured.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That was a copperhead. I don’t see how it could have gotten into that bathroom on its own.” His breath was chugging as if he’d run a mile. “Looks like maybe this is another attempt on your life.”

  “Yeah.”

  She tapped him lightly on the chest and leaned away from him. “Hey,” she said with a smile. “You got my psychic message.”

  His brows furrowed and he grimaced. “Nonsense. I didn’t get any psychic message. What are you talking about?”

  ”About the snake. I was concentrating on danger and snake, and you heard me.”

  He shook his head. “No, you said it out loud.”

  Did she? “I don’t think so.”

  Ry released her so abruptly that she stumbled.

  While he phoned the desk clerk and reported the additional guest in room 101, Giselle crammed the toiletry bag into the suitcase and zipped it shut. The snake could have whatever she’d left in the bathroom.

  She could have sworn she didn’t say anything about the snake.

  * * *

  Back at Ry’s house, Giselle used the master bedroom’s en suite bathroom to prepare for her date with the Vampire Lester. But this time when she emerged from the bathroom, she didn’t find Ry waiting for her. He’d been a perfect gentleman since they’d arrived. Dammit.

  His courtesy gave Giselle a chance to dress. She threw on a short, slinky black sheath dress with high heels and silver hoop earrings. After putting on makeup, which she pronounced tastefully minimal, Giselle snooped around Ry’s house. Okay, the snooping wasn’t good etiquette but it was irresistible.

  A half an hour later, when Giselle entered the kitchen, Ry stood at the counter with the refrigerator door open. He poured a glass of sweet tea from a pitcher into a glass. Another glass of tea sat on the counter in front of him.

  “Hey!” Giselle griped. “You’ve got at least two extra bedrooms in this place. How come you offered me the sofa?”

  Ry replaced the pitcher in the refrigerator and offered a glass to her. “I don’t want you to be too comfortable.”

  Mr. Meanie. “That’s not nice.” Giselle accepted the glass and took a sip of the cold, sweet brew.

  He reached up and wound a red curl around one of his fingers. “I figure the sofa doesn’t offer as much competition as the guest room might. I’m hoping to lure you from the sofa into my bed.”

  Hmmm. That’s nice. That could happen. “That’s not going to happen.” Her voice wavered as she said it. Giselle took another sip of the tea, hiding a smile on the rim of the glass.

  “Uh-huh.” He took a sip from his glass. Was he hiding a smile of his own? He blinked and looked her up and down. “What is this?”

  Giselle choked on the tea. “What do you mean?” She thought she looked pretty darn good in this outfit. Sexy but not sluttish.

  “Oh, no. You’re not wearing that, are you?” He walked around her in a three–hundred-and-sixty-degree circle, all the while continuing an up-and-down examination. “Oh, hell no.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” She squeaked it. It was a blow to think Ry didn’t find her attractive in this dress. After all, she’d worn it for him. Oh, wait a minute. She’d worn this dress for Lester, hadn’t she? Ooops. “Doesn’t it look okay?” Would she live through a critique?

  “Okay?” Ry snorted, and Giselle nodded. “It looks too okay. You look too fantastic. You look too sexy.”

  She could live with that.

  “No way are you wearing that for Lester,” Ry demanded as he moved to lean on the edge of the kitchen table.

  That was just precious. Ry in a fit of jealousy. He was so cute. But she wouldn’t take orders. “I am wearing this. We want Lester to spill his guts. I don’t want him thinking about keeping secrets. I want his mind on something else.”

  “Oh, I think his mind will definitely be on something else, but I don’t like what his mind will be on when he’s spilling. Plus, I’m not sure I would like exactly what he would be spilling on that dress.”

  She couldn’t keep the laughter from erupting. “Ry, I can’t believe you said something like that. You’re no gentleman.”

  “Even though you’re a lady, I never said I was a gentleman.”

  That’s right, he hadn’t.

  “I don’t even want to be a gentleman when I see you dressed like that.” His voice had taken on low and serious tone. Raspy. His eyes met hers unwaveringly. No teasing smile lit up his face now.

  “All I can think, is that you’re mine and I don’t want to share you.”

  What he’d said was probably a line. But as lines went, it was a pretty good one. Besides, she wanted him too.

  Remember what happened this morning, Rational Angel Giselle said. But she said it in Giselle’s deaf ear. Giselle and the wanton vixen inside her were one now. She couldn’t remember what happened this morning. She couldn’t remember what happened an hour ago. Something in her had connected with something in him. Something that recognized him as belonging to her, and she had to claim him.

  Giselle moved toward Ry in what she hoped was an alluring saunter and not reminiscent of a streetwalker. From the look in Ry’s eyes as she approached, the walk had the desired effect. She continued until she had pressed herself against him. She slid her hands down his thighs, and then around to clutch his behind. His male scent filled her senses. His muscular chest, temptingly close, just inches from her lips through the opening of his white shirt.

  She stretched onto tiptoes to nip at his stubbly chin and the cold condensation from the glass in her hand dripped onto his chest. She licked the droplet from a spot a few inches below his Adam’s apple. She moved upward and tasted the fruit. His eyes drifting shut, Ry moaned. Mmmm, yummy… She set the glass on the counter and concentrated on Ry.”

  Unbuttoning his shirt, she pulled it free of the jeans and pushed the shirt from his shoulders. She licked one brown berrylike nipple. More yummy fruit. Ry cried out another low moan. Tormenting him sweetly, her tongue swirled and pulled.

  Giselle felt him lift the skirt of her dress as he crushed her mouth with his. They stumbled together a few steps and Ry thrust her back against the refrigerator. The stainless steel surface felt cool against her backside, her thong offering no protection. One strong thigh moved between hers as Ry continued to explore her mouth with his. Clutching his shoulders, she clung as if he were the only stable place in a storm. But it was her emotions that were the storm.

  Giselle felt Ry’s fingers at the edge of her skimpy underwear. They delved beneath. His fingers moved knowingly. She would have sworn bolts of electricity arced through her.

  “Omigod, Ry! What are you doing to me?” she gasped.

  “If you don’t know, I’ll have to keep doing it until you do,” he said hoarsely.

  “I don’t know if I’ll survive much more.”

  “If you pass out I’ll do resuscitation. I’m really good at mouth-to-mouth, and mouth to other things.”

  She gasped as his fingers moved inside her again. “I bet you are.”

  Ry backed away just far enough to strip the thong down her legs. When it dropped around her ankles, Giselle stepped one foot out and kicked the thong away with the other, impatient to be rid of the small barrier keeping her from Ry.

  “Take off your pants,” she said.

  “Oh, Ry, that feels… Omigod. Unbelievable.”

  He turned Giselle before pushing her facedown on the kitchen table.

  “Ry…”

  “Shhhhh.” He lifted the hem of the skirt onto her back, baring her buttocks. He was silent for a few seconds before leaning his body over hers. “You do look fine from this angle,” he said, running his hand over her hip and then cupping one cheek.

  His words thrilled her heart and thril
led her body. They tugged at her soul as much as they tugged at her core.

  Widen your legs,” he commanded.

  Giselle quickly complied.

  When he pressed himself to her, his length jabbed at her through his pants.

  The sensations caused by the rough denim fabric against her bareness… Abrasive. Such fantastic friction. Omigod. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Do you like that?” he asked, rubbing himself against her.

  “Oh, yes,” she said.

  Abruptly he pulled away. The loss of his touch against her was unbearable. But fortunately he turned her. Face-to-face, he clutched her to him in a hungry kiss.

  As he moved to press her down, she stopped him.

  “My turn to be on top,” she said as she twisted from beneath him and pushed Ry back onto the kitchen table. Giselle grasped the tab of the zipper on his jeans, and the table lurched beneath them.

  The table skidded on the tile, and the two of them tumbled to the floor with Giselle sprawled over Ry.

  Neither of them took notice of the fall. Giselle’s hand returned to his zipper and pulled downward. The hard length of his erection sprang free of the garment. Her fingertips brushed the length of his shaft in a long caress and it bobbed in response.

  Ry gasped and then moaned. Then he fumbled in his pocket and produced a condom package. “Looking for this?”

  “Hey. I think I should feel insulted. You’re taking me for granted,” Giselle said half jokingly. She didn’t want him to see how vulnerable she was to him.

  “No.” His gaze was serious as his eyes met hers. “My good luck charm.”

  Good answer.

  He pulled his jeans off, and kicked them to the corner of the room.

  Giselle took the foil package from him and made a tortuous production of fitting its contents on Ry. He seemed to enjoy the process, although his face had fixed into a grimace by the time she completed her task.

  “Am I hurting you?” she teased.

  “Get down here, you,” he gritted out. Giselle happily complied by climbing on top of him. One of his hands massaged her breast through the dress, the other clutched the bare skin of her hip. Moving on him, slow and long, she undulated against him. She rode him, feeling herself building to an achingly sweet release. As Giselle cried out, convulsing, Ry groaned and arched with his own completion.

  * * *

  “You have bunnies,” Giselle said with her head resting on Ry’s chest.

  He breathed deeply in and out as his heartbeat quieted.

  “What?” he asked after a long while.

  “You have dust bunnies under the refrigerator.” Giselle’s own breath slowed to a normal rate.

  Ry chuckled. “You have strange taste in pillow talk.”

  “Get me a pillow and maybe I’ll say something you like better.” She pinched his side.

  Ry stood up, chuckling again, and lifted Giselle to her feet. He retrieved his jeans and hiked them on. At least her dress was still in place, sort of. However, it was terribly crumpled.

  Looking down at herself, she said, “I’m going to have to change before I go to Lester’s.”

  Ry turned away, hiding a self-satisfied smile. The rat, he’d gotten his way about the outfit. She would show him. She’d find an even more—

  A rapid knock on Ry’s front door interrupted Giselle’s thoughts. As Ry zipped his jeans, the knock repeated. It became an insistent and unrelenting pounding as Ry walked out of the kitchen through to the parlor. From the kitchen, Giselle could see him look out the window next to the front door.

  “Oh, f@#k!” He didn’t say it in a good way. That could only mean one thing. It was Ry’s mother at the door.

  Panic. Where was her thong? She scoured the floor with her eyes. Nothing. She looked on the kitchen chairs. No. Where could it be? It had to be here somewhere.

  “Ry, I know that you are in there. Open this door. It’s your mama.”

  Like they needed her to tell them that.

  “F@#k!”

  “Yeah!” Giselle still couldn’t find her thong. She gave up. She walked through to the hall and put her hand on Ry’s arm.

  “I’m going to have to open the door or she’ll never leave,” Ry said with a face twisted in a tortured grimace.

  “You’ll have to open it, I guess,” Giselle conceded.

  Ry’s hand went to the bolt lock.

  “Ry?”

  He looked back. He seemed to see the question in Giselle’s eyes. Was this going to be the end of them again? Could they recover and come back together if Ry’s mother broke them apart this time?

  Ry ignored the pounding on the door and dropped a kiss on Giselle’s forehead. “It’ll be okay.”

  Giselle decided she’d have to trust him. What else could she do?

  The door opened a crack and Madam Divinity flew in. Wasn’t that the same broomstick she’d been on earlier?

  She took one look at Giselle and let out a shrill yelp. “Aaahhhh.” Madam’s hand went to her chest as if her heart had attacked her. They couldn’t be that lucky, could they?

  “Good to see you too,” Giselle said dryly.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Still not psychic, I see.” Giselle turned and walked back through the parlor to the kitchen. She prayed that Madam would not follow. Giselle’s prayers weren’t answered.

  Well, what did you expect? You haven’t been a good girl lately, Rational Angel said.

  Giselle whispered back, “Shush it.”

  “Mama. If you can’t be civilized, I suggest you leave.”

  “Oh, honey, I’ve been very civilized toward that…woman. She’s not bald yet, is she?”

  Giselle refused to reach for her hair. “I don’t need mystical powers to make you bald, Madam. I’ve got two able hands.”

  This disconcerted Madam and she turned away to stroll around the kitchen. “I refuse to engage in any petty bickering. I came here because I’ve had a vision. My son is in danger. I don’t have time to trade insults with a slu—woman like you.” Madam plucked something from a cabinet door handle and held it out to Giselle. “I believe this must be yours.”

  Naturally, Madam had found her lost thong.

  Giselle grabbed it out of her hand, fighting the mortification she felt. “How clever of you. You do have psychic abilities. Oh, wait, since I’m the only woman here. Never mind.”

  “You tramp!”

  “Madam, it looks like you’ve graduated from petty bickering to being downright insulting.” Giselle tried to assume her haughtiest air.

  “Mama, I warned you about not being civil. You need to go.”

  “But, honey, I have to warn you. I’ve seen danger for you tonight. You must be careful. There is darkness. There is something hovering over you like a great weight. It wants to crush you.” Madam clutched at her son’s arm. “Now that I know she’s still here, I’m even more concerned for your safety.” She spat it over her shoulder at Giselle.

  Ry appeared unmoved. “You said what you came here to say. You can go now, Mama.”

  Madam stabbed Giselle with an evil eye. “I knew you were lying to me at the hotel.” She stalked out of the kitchen.

  Ry and Giselle looked at one another. Madam’s heavy footsteps echoed as she marched away down the hall. The front door opened and then slammed shut.

  “What was that about the hotel?”

  “Nothing important,” Giselle said. “I hope your mother is not going to appear every time we make love. ’Cause I gotta tell you, if she does, it’s gonna be an incredible turn-off.” Giselle went to Ry and put her arms around his waist. “I don’t want to be insulting or anything, but your mother has got to be the ultimate anti-aphrodisiac,” Giselle joked, hugging him to her forcefully.

  Ry didn’t laugh. His arms hung at his sides for a few seconds before they came up and went around her. Then Ry hugged her to him with equal force. His fingers clutched at her, a pressure so intense it almost hurt. Giselle buried her face in his che
st and inhaled his scent as she gloried in the fierceness of his grip.

  She didn’t have a ghost, but at least she wasn’t alone.

  * * *

  It was almost precisely 8:00 p.m. when Ry pulled his car to a stop along a side street about half a block from the address the Vampire Lester had provided for the assignation. The address turned out to be a house, or rather a structure that had the appearance of a small castle. The Victorian castle, constructed of rust brick that shone almost blood red in the light of the setting sun, had its own turret. Even from this distance Giselle could see the heavy curtains at the windows. The small garden in front had been allowed to become overgrown and unkempt. It looked gloomy and mysterious. All they needed was a thunderstorm to perfect the horror movie ambiance.

  “I don’t like the idea of you going in there alone,” Ry said as he surveyed the vampire lair.

  “Lester proposed this evening as some kind of romantic encounter. Whatever his ulterior motives are, he’s obviously not going to disclose anything if you go in there with me. Besides, I’ll be safe enough. He’s so frail, I think I could take him in a fair fight.” She laughed, trying to lighten the somber mood.

  “But will the fight be fair? That’s what I’m afraid of. What if Kopeleski is in there? Even worse, what if those two thugs who abducted you are in there?”

  Giselle ignored the trepidation growing in her stomach. Or maybe it was just indigestion. No definitely fear. False bravado. That’s what she needed.

  “I’ve got your cell number programmed into my phone for a one-touch call. It’ll operate like a panic button.” She could tell he wasn’t reassured. To tell the truth, it didn’t comfort her much either. “If anything gets hinky, I’ll press it, I promise.”

  “Yeah, but will you know if there’s anything hinky? You didn’t have much time to suspect there was something hinky when those two guys threw you into the trunk.”

  Good point.

  “I wasn’t looking for something hinky then. Now, I am.” That was a logical argument. Wasn’t it?

  “Why don’t we forget about hinky and just go do something kinky,” Ry said as he leaned from the driver’s to the passenger seat and dropped a kiss on the side of her neck. The touch of his warm lips was incredibly arousing. Her tendons thrummed like the strings of a guitar.