Again, he mentioned turning her. Each time, she was more tempted to accept. An eternity of loving him wouldn’t be enough. When had she decided she truly loved him? She speared her fingers into his thick hair and pulled him down for another kiss.
The muscles in his arms bunched, and he lifted his torso, giving his hips greater leverage. His strokes were longer—and to Darcy’s mind—too damn slow. She planted her feet in the mattress and angled her hips upward to shorten the distance between them.
Their hips countered the other’s strokes, pounding against each other—faster, sharper, creating a friction that built a spiraling coil of sensual tension. Darcy’s legs quivered and her breath grew ragged. When her orgasm burst, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and held her hips as high as she could reach. His cock rested snug inside her channel, caressed from head to scrotum.
Spent, his weight crashed down on her, and her legs collapsed. She rocked him, side to side, holding him as tight as she could, relishing the jetting release that bathed her.
Her lover yawned and kissed the corner of her neck.
If she didn’t roust him now, she might be stuck beneath him for another long while. The thought was a pleasant one, but she really did need to get up.
Drowsy and well-sated, Darcy traced the knobby vertebrae of his spine. “I should check in on Joe before he sleeps for the day.”
Quentin’s body stiffened above her. “You needn’t worry about him anymore.”
She pressed a kiss against his shoulder. “I’m not making love with him again, if that has you worried. Last night was goodbye. To tell you the truth, I don’t really know why I wanted him, except I kept saying to myself that loving him was the right choice.”
“And not me. Because he’s human?”
“Because we’ve known each other so long—as partners and friends. And I do love him—just not the way he wants.”
“You know what I think?”
His voice held that droll note she was coming to treasure. “Hmmm?” Her lips curved into a smile. He was going to say something outrageous.
He rose on his elbows to look down into her face. “I think you were using him to fight your attraction to me.” His expression was as complacent as a cat’s after licking cream.
“You’re unbelievable!” She pretended outrage and made a half-hearted attempt to shove him away. “Everything has to be all about you, doesn’t it?”
“Were you lovers before I arrived on the scene?”
“Of course not.”
One self-satisfied brow rose. “Well then?”
“That’s it? That’s your entire argument? You’re an arrogant bastard.” He was right, but she’d never admit that. He was already too sure of himself.
“I’m the one in the saddle, aren’t I?”
“So now you’re what…Roy Rogers?”
“Would you rather I was Trigger?”
“Hmmm, I was just trying to relate to you old man. I’m assuming Trigger was his horse?” She pretended to take his suggestion seriously. “You do have a feature or two that reminds me of a horse. Mainly your backside!”
“Not my cock? I think we’re insulted again.”
Gaiety fled, and she gazed solemnly upward. “Intellectually, I know you’re an unsuitable choice for me, but I can’t help myself. I want you still. Hell, I want you all the time.”
“I’m similarly afflicted, my dear.”
She drew a deep breath. “I really do need to make sure Joe is okay. I won’t sleep easy until I do.”
Quentin’s jaw tightened. “Darcy, he isn’t here.”
“Did he leave to hunt for more blood?” she asked, alarm rising as she imagined a hundred frightening scenarios.
He held himself perfectly still above her. “Darcy, he’s gone.”
“What?” she asked, not understanding.
“We talked about it last night, before you came home. He has a lot to adjust to and think about. His love for you was clouding the issue. He knew he’d lost, so he decided to leave.”
“But, the team—”
“He’s taking a leave of absence.”
Tears filled her eyes. “This is my fault. He’s alone now.”
“He’s a man, love. Clinging to him would make him feel less so.” He rolled to his side and pulled her closer into his arms.
“I don’t like him leaving like this.”
“Did you like having both of us love you, so well?” he asked, his voice tight.
Her answer was important to him. She couldn’t make light of it or give anything but the honest truth. “I was frightened by how much I felt—and pained. I couldn’t concentrate on one sensation, so much was happening. I wanted to cling to you to slow it down. Are you wondering if I will be satisfied with just one lover now?”
He didn’t answer, just stared at her steadily.
She laid her palm against his cheek. “You are quickly becoming everything to me. You enrage me, annoy me, fill me, and excite me. You’re more than I ever knew I needed.”
“How ungrammatical,” he said drolly, but his eyes were warm and approving.
She understood. He couldn’t reciprocate with loving words. He was a guy. Big, bad vampire was still just a man—and right-brain, left-brain challenged. Words of real emotion might be impossible to draw from him, but his actions spoke volumes.
He’d kept her safe when Joe’s storm had raged against her.
He’d prepared her body for another man to take.
He’d kept her warm and loved, and had remained with her to soften her grief from Joe’s departure.
Darcy let Quentin pull her close. Snuggled next to his body, she slept with her head resting over his heart.
*
Darcy took her seat in the conference room, uneasy with the silence from the rest of the team. Not a single glance met hers, and her heart sank. She would be fired.
The captain had called the meeting for late afternoon—earlier than Quentin could possibly attend.
The conference room door swung inward, and Captain Springer entered. He glanced at Darcy, and his face grew solemn. “Sorry about your partner, Darcy.”
Darcy gave him a questioning glance. He didn’t sound angry with her.
“Joe called and told me what happened. That he’d asked Quentin to make him a vampire when he realized he wasn’t going to make it.”
Her shoulders lifted with her swift intake of breath.
“He did tell you, didn’t he?” he asked, his expression full of sympathy.
Darcy nodded, blinking back tears. Joe had saved her ass. “Did-did he say if he was coming back?”
“He’s got a lot to think about, but I told him his job was still waiting here for him.” Springer raised a bushy eyebrow. “Hell, partnering with vamps might be the wave of the future.”
Phil slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Tough break, Darse.”
Murmurs of sympathy from around the table made Darcy feel about two feet tall.
Max’s steady glare was the only exception.
Does he suspect the truth? She straightened her shoulders. “Captain, do we have any leads on where Nicky Powell is now?”
“Unfortunately, he’s gone to ground. But he can’t stay there long. We found a stash of money in the house at South Beach Park. He can’t go far without scoring more.”
“Any clues how he’ll put the money together again?” Phil asked.
Captain Springer’s face lit with mirthless glee. “Word on the street is he approached a Jamaican drug runner to offer his special services to develop a new market and distribute the drugs.”
Max cursed. “That’s all we need. I suppose he’s planning to make his own ring of pushers, too?”
“You got it,” Captain Springer said.
“How do we know so much about his plans?” Darcy asked. The captain seemed entirely too pleased with himself. His cheeks were florid, and satisfaction gleamed in his eyes.
“We received the info straight from the horse’s
mouth. Seems the drug lord isn’t pleased with his new partner.”
“Who’d he go to?” Darcy asked.
“Rupe King.”
Smiles lifted the tension in the room. Nicky Powell had made a fatal mistake.
*
Later that night…
“Why is it fortuitous Nicky approached that particular drug dealer?” Quentin nuzzled Darcy’s neck, finding it impossible to keep his attention on what she was saying. What she was doing filled his senses. And her scent…
Her sweat-ripened musk lured him like a hound to a fox. He lapped moisture from her neck.
Darcy gripped his chin and brought his face level with hers. “Pay attention.”
“Are we ready again?” He circled his hips under her to check for the depth of penetration.
Darcy rolled her eyes and pushed his hands from her breasts to the leather-upholstered sofa. “Business first.”
“Of course.” He smiled. “I love our conversations regarding commerce.”
“I knew letting you distract me when we came inside the house was a mistake.”
“To be precise, we came inside the car first. And what’s this about letting you do anything? As I remember it, you left quite a few items of clothing on the lawn in your mad dash for the door.”
He enjoyed Darcy’s rosy-cheeked embarrassment immensely. Only, she hadn’t shown a hint of shyness when she’d shoved him down onto the sofa and climbed onto his lap. Nor had she blushed when she’d spread her legs wide around his hips and sank on his cock.
After she’d taken him, she’d been in an annoyingly chatty mood.
“If you’ll just give me two minutes, I’ll explain everything.”
“I’ll give you nine inches.”
“Huh! Is that all?”
“Give me a reason to exert myself farther,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble.
Her breasts were his barometers. He had only to watch the changes there to gauge her arousal. Her face was never as transparent. Even now, her chest was flushed pink. Time to escalate his seduction.
His hand rose to a tightly budding nipple. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, making her hips react. She couldn’t help herself—he could tell by the ferocious frown she wore that she wanted to resist.
Simply watching her move on him, taking her pleasure of his body, pleased him. Her small breasts jiggled with each bounce. Her taut abdomen and sleekly muscled thighs clenched as she levered herself up and down. He could watch his cock disappear inside her pretty, dark-furred mound for an eternity.
“Damn you,” she moaned. “I’ll never get my point across.”
“Wouldn’t you rather I did?” He flexed his hips to spear upward.
She gasped. “Just hold that thought.” Again, she circled on his cock, driving him crazy with her tight twist and bounce. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her small white teeth bit her bottom lip.
Quentin gripped her ass, his fingers splayed to “persuade” her to pick up the pace and height of her movements.
Darcy accepted his guidance with enthusiasm, moaning louder the harder and faster she bounced.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the front door push open. He stiffened, ready to toss Darcy to the side. Then he recognized the pair who appeared in the doorway.
Dylan O’Hara’s expression reflected his wicked amusement at having found Quentin occupied.
Emmy Harris winked and held her finger to her lips. The two stood in the well of the foyer and waited for Quentin to finish.
Cursing beneath his breath, Quentin slid his hand beneath Darcy’s hair and tipped her face to his.
She kissed him, and then murmured a protest when he gently tugged her back.
“We have visitors.”
“Let’s not answer the door,” she groaned and ground her pussy over his cock.
“Ahem.” His ex-best friend, Dylan, cleared his throat. “You left the front door open.”
Darcy screeched and swung her head around.
Emmy raised her hand and fluttered her fingers. “Hi there. We’re not interrupting anything, are we?”
Chapter Nine
‡
Minutes later, Quentin’s ears still rang from Darcy’s loud scream. If he hadn’t been so annoyed at the interruption only moments from orgasm, he might have laughed at how quickly the woman had sprung from the sofa and his cock and hidden in the bedroom.
Dylan, the bastard, had seated himself on the sectional, his arms outstretched, and waited while Quentin picked up his clothes and dressed. The cad didn’t bother to even try to hide his devilish smile.
Emmy’s bright, inquisitive stare embarrassed Quentin, because she made no bones about the fact her gaze was glued to his cock. She might even have mumbled something like, “I knew it was one of those vampire things—you’re all hung like horses.”
When the lower part of his anatomy was clothed, Quentin flopped down on the sofa. “Dylan, I thought we’d agreed Emmy needed to be kept safe. Nicky’s suffered a setback and is more dangerous than ever.”
Dylan shrugged. “She wore me down.”
“Yup! To a nubbin.” Emmy grinned. “Now he can’t satisfy me, so I’ll have to find my kicks elsewhere.”
“Well, come over here, sweetheart.” Quentin opened his arms, feeling playful and fully enjoying his friend’s jealous glare.
Emmy crossed the short distance and settled her shapely hips onto his lap. She leaned toward him and kissed his cheek.
“Uh huh!” Quentin pressed a finger beneath her chin and held her motionless while he gave her lips a wet, smacking kiss.
“Now, see here!” Dylan said, his voice laced with irritation. “Get your lips off my wife.”
Quentin broke the kiss. His eyebrows shot high. “You’re married? Now I really must kiss the bride.” He bent her over his arm and pressed his lips to hers, again.
Emmy giggled and clutched his neck, and giggled louder when Dylan growled another warning.
When Quentin came up for air, he slung his arms around her and continued to hold her in his lap. “Have to hand it to you, Dylan. Your Emmy is all woman. I can see why you’d want to stake your claim. But, Emmy, what do you see in this Paddy?”
Emmy’s cheeks flushed with pleasure, and her eyes softened when she gazed at Dylan. “He’s my big, bad wolf. He scares the hell out of me when he’s making love.”
Quentin understood her perfectly. Darcy scared the hell out him. His need for her grew stronger by the night. “So, when did you two marry?”
“On our way here—in Vegas!”
Quentin released a bark of laughter. “Tell me you didn’t…”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Oh yes!”
Emmy’s smile was beatific. “Elvis himself did the honors singing ‘Hunk, Hunk Burning’ Love’!”
Quentin’s mouth stretched with an unholy grin. “Must be love.”
Shamefaced, Dylan shrugged. “What can I say? She had me by the short-hairs at 10,000 feet.”
“Oooh!” Emmy bounced on his lap, her excitement impossible to contain. “Do you know what the ‘Mile-High Club’ is?”
Quentin quirked an eyebrow at his best friend.
“Navarro leant us his ten-seater to fly here. Emmy seduced a meal out of the steward, and he told her about the club.”
“You make it sound like I had sex with the man,” Emmy said, her lips pursed in an adorable pout.
“Damn close enough. He came in his pants!”
“I had to give him something in exchange.”
“In exchange?” Quentin asked, knowing the answer. He was sure he’d enjoy Emmy’s version better.
“For his blood, silly. Besides, he was wearing an apron. No one but he and I knew. Except nosy over there. Of course, Dylan had to initiate me afterward—in the bathroom, the galley—”
“He gets the idea, love,” Dylan said smoothly.
The bedroom door creaked open behind Quentin, and the scent of raspberry soap wafted over him. Darcy had sh
owered. Quentin’s cock twitched.
“I think you have the wrong woman in your lap,” Emmy said slyly. She rose and walked toward Darcy. “I’m Emmaline Harris—”
“O’Hara!” Dylan reminded her.
“That rude man is my husband, Dylan O’Hara,” Emmy said, wrinkling her nose. “We’re friends of Quentin’s. Friends of the night, if you know what I mean.”
Quentin turned to watch the exchange. Darcy had dressed in a faded gray sweatshirt with the SU logo emblazoned across the chest, a pair of faded blue jeans, and sneakers. Her hair was still wet from her shower, and two rosy spots of color warmed her cheeks.
The contrast between the two women was remarkable. Darcy was the taller of the two, but Emmy dwarfed her by virtue of her exuberance and statuesque frame. Emmy was dressed in a blood-red pantsuit that clung lovingly to her fleshy figure. Her bright gold hair and ivory skin were a vivid contrast to Darcy’s severely understated appearance.
But Quentin knew how deceptive Darcy’s beauty was. It was tactile rather than visual. Baby-soft skin stretched over taut, defined muscle. Soft hair, soft lips, soft kittenish cries when she grew excited…
Her curves were subtle. Her ass fit his palms, warm and round. Just the thought of her small breasts with their velvety-soft, rose-red nipples… Quentin shifted on the seat and caught Dylan’s amused stare.
“I never thought I’d see the day,” Dylan murmured.
“Huh!” Quentin grunted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She’s not what I would have expected.” He tilted his head in Darcy’s direction.
Quentin’s eyes narrowed in warning.
“Oh ho! How the mighty have fallen.”
“Boys!” Emmy tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Darcy and I are scaring up some steaks. Can we bring you anything?”
Dylan smiled lazily. “Whatever you’re having, dear.”
“See how he dotes?” she said, with a wink at Quentin. Emmy blew Dylan a kiss and followed Darcy through the swinging door.
Dylan’s face grew serious. “So, tell me about Nicky.”
“He’s on the run. We found his new lair, but he gave us the slip.”
“Us? I heard you were working with the local vampire hunters.” He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. “I take it Darcy is one of them? Aren’t you playing a dangerous game?”
Truly, Madly...Deadly (a vampire romance) (Night Fall Book 2) Page 10
