Cliff's Descent

by Dianne Duvall

  Bastien turned away and walked with him back to the car. Once there, he drew a cell phone from an inner pocket of his coat and handed it to Cliff. “If you come upon vampires who are harming mortals, text me and wait until I arrive to confront them.”

  “Unless they’re killing the mortals.”

  “Unless they’re killing the mortals,” Bastien agreed, “and they don’t outnumber you too badly.” Leaning into the back seat, he grabbed the duffel bag and drew it out. “How are the voices?”

  “Lower.”

  “But still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  He glanced at his watch. “We’re coming up on the top of the hour. Why don’t you meet me in four hours instead of two? You don’t have to track down other vampires the whole time. Go for a run or… hell, I don’t know. Go see a movie.” Delving into another pocket, he withdrew his wallet and handed Cliff a lump of folded bills.

  Cliff grinned as he pocketed them. “Gee thanks, dad.”

  Bastien laughed. “Are movie theaters even open this late?”

  “I doubt it.” Anything that wasn’t either a twenty-four-hour superstore or gas station tended to close before midnight.

  He shrugged. “Well, whatever you think might help clear your head.” He passed him the duffel. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Cliff looped the strap over his shoulder. “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?”

  “Hmm. Good point. Have fun then.”

  “You, too.” Grinning, he raced away.

  Though Cliff wanted to shoot straight to Emma’s house, he needed to fulfill his obligations to Bastien and the Immortal Guardians first.

  With that in mind, he headed to NCCU to see if he could accidentally run into some other vampires.

  He did find—in record time—two out hunting and watched them for a bit before approaching them. Neither one harmed the victims they chose beyond drinking from them, something he thought promising. Unfortunately, they weren’t interested in making friends or engaging in small talk. The first was good. They didn’t seem to be part of whatever new vampire army was amassing. But the second made it impossible for him to try to win them over to the Immortal Guardians’ side.

  Tonight anyway. Maybe he could find them another night and try again.

  Having performed his duties, Cliff sped to Emma’s quaint country home.

  Excitement and nerves battled inside him. Would she really be happy to see him again? She had said she would, but…

  Last night seemed like a dream.

  The voices, dampened by his violent clash with the sadistic vampires earlier, tried to resume their constant diatribe.

  Cliff ignored them as he skidded to a halt on her neatly mowed lawn.

  Lights inside brightened the windows, but blinds kept him from peering within.

  He glanced down at his blood-soaked clothing, then at the bag Bastien had given him. Dropping to one knee, he set the bag on the ground, unzipped it, and rifled through it. Clean clothes, clean boots, and—yes!—scentless hand wipes.

  It took Cliff mere seconds to doff his hunting garb and wipe the blood from his exposed skin. He couldn’t imagine what Emma would think if she were to look out and see him standing bare-ass naked in her front yard but considered it worth the risk. It suddenly felt incredibly important that he come to her tonight as clean and gore-free as a normal man would.

  A full minute later, he wore clean clothes. Once he stuffed the hunting garb and red-smeared hand wipes into the duffel, he zipped it and gripped the handles.

  His heart pounded in his chest as he left the grass, strode up the stone path, scaled the wooden steps to her porch, and stopped before her front door. He raised a hand to knock but hesitated. He glanced down at his clean clothes and the duffel. What was he missing?

  A thought dawned. Swearing, he set the duffel down and zipped back to one of the fields he’d run through on his way here.

  Seconds later, he once more stood before Emma’s door, this time with a bouquet of pretty wildflowers clutched in one fist.

  Please let it have been real, he thought.

  Raising his hand, he knocked, then picked up his duffel bag. If both hands were full, maybe he would be less tempted to touch her as soon as he saw her.

  Footsteps padded across the floor inside. Locks clicked. The door swung open.

  Then Emma stood before him.

  His breath left him in a rush. She’s so beautiful.

  She wore a colorful dress tonight that hugged her breasts and slender waist before it fell loosely to a few inches above her knees. No shoes adorned her feet. Instead, pink-painted toenails gleamed in the porch’s light.

  Tilting her head back, she smiled up at him. “Hi.”

  Joy filled him as he tightened his hold on the duffel. She was happy to see him! “Hi.”

  Stepping out onto the porch, she rose onto her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and drew him down for a kiss.

  Every voice in his head fell silent as Cliff dropped the bag and wrapped his arms around her, careful not to crush the flowers. Or Emma. She felt so good in his arms that he just wanted to squeeze her closer and never let her go. Instead, he reveled in the touch of her lips against his and poured all the love and affection he felt for her into the kiss.

  She hummed her approval, tightening her arms a moment before she slowly withdrew and lowered her heels to the floor. She didn’t move away though. The front of her body still pressed into his, inciting fiery desire he could do nothing to cool. “I missed you today,” she said softly, a smile toying with the edges of her lips.

  “I missed you, too,” he admitted with a smile, then offered her the flowers. “These are for you. Some of the blossoms have closed for the night, but they’ll open again in the morning if you put them in water.”

  Her lovely features brightened. “They’re beautiful, Cliff. Thank you. That’s so thoughtful.”

  Even that made him happy… that she would take pleasure in something as simple as wildflowers he’d picked for her instead of disparaging them. Back in college when he’d still been human, he’d dated a girl who considered anything short of a dozen roses an insult and frequently complained that he didn’t buy her nicer things than her friends’ boyfriends bought them.

  Taking his hand, Emma turned and tugged him after. “Come inside.”

  Snagging the duffel bag, he followed her in and closed the door behind them. When he turned back to face the living room, he stilled.

  The coffee table in front of the sofa bore a crisp white runner it hadn’t before. Two long, thin candles rose from silver stands on it and loomed over a pair of plates and neat place settings with carefully folded napkins beside them.

  Since she had no dining table, Emma had set the coffee table for a romantic dinner for two… without the food, though the mouthwatering aroma of something pasta related filled the room.

  He set the duffel down.

  Emma watched him carefully as she toyed with a daisy-like flower. “I wasn’t sure how much time we’d have. Last night we only had a couple of hours and…” Shrugging, she sent him a sheepish smile. “I don’t know. I thought it might be rude to just pounce on you as soon as you walked in the door.”

  “Hell no. Pounce away,” he retorted with a grin, drawing a laugh from her. “I nearly pounced on you, too. But this…” He motioned to the coffee table. “This is perfect, Emma. I love it.”

  She beamed.

  Cliff glanced at his watch. “We have three and a half hours.” He cast her a hopeful look. “Could we maybe have a date night?” He hadn’t been on an actual date in years and craved the normalcy of it.

  “Yes.” Her lovely face lighting with excitement, she rushed into the kitchen. “The lasagna is ready. I was just keeping it warm in the oven. Let me put these beauties in water first.”

  In the time it took her to find a vase and arrange the flowers in it, Cliff removed the lasagna from t
he oven, filled both plates, lit the candles, and found a bottle of sparkling grape juice in the fridge.

  When she saw him filling a couple of wineglasses with it, she wrinkled her nose in apology. “Sorry. That’s all I have. I’ve kind of been on a health kick lately.”

  He sent her a reassuring smile. “This is fine. I can’t get buzzed from alcohol anyway.”

  “Oh. Right. I forgot. That kinda sucks.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. But on the plus side, it keeps half-crazy vampires from going on drunken rampages.”

  She laughed. “True.”

  They settled beside each other on the sofa, close enough that their arms brushed. Then they picked up their wineglasses.

  “To us,” she said with a soft smile.

  “To us,” Cliff repeated, stealing a tender kiss before they clinked their glasses together and took a sip.

  Emma’s stomach rumbled as they spread napkins on their laps and tucked into the tasty pasta.

  Cliff grinned and took a bite. “Mmmm. This is delicious.”

  “Thank you.”

  His mind cycled back to the sparkling grape juice and her health-kick comment. “You aren’t having any health problems, are you?” If so, he’d have to find a way to bring it to Melanie’s attention. Maybe he could say he heard Emma mention it in the cafeteria or something.

  “No.” With what appeared to be great reluctance, she said, “It’s just how I’m dealing with the aftereffects of the mercenary attack.”

  His chewing slowed as he eyed her with concern. He hadn’t really thought about the lingering effects the mercenary attack might have on network employees. He studied the arms left mostly bare by her dress. Cliff ran himself ragged on the treadmill to try to silence the voices that battered him. He’d noticed the increased muscle definition in Emma’s arms, the slight narrowing of her waist and slimming of her hips. Did she exercise vigorously to combat… what? Nightmares?

  She shook her head. “It isn’t what you think. I’m fine. I just want to be in better physical condition if something similar goes down in the future so I can be like you and help others out.”

  Cliff stared at her. Did she have any idea how much those words meant to him? That she saw him as someone who helped others rather than someone who was destined to lose his mind and harm them?

  “I’ve been meaning to pour more effort into my health way anyway,” she added, “so it’s a win-win.”

  Swallowing, he nodded and asked her about her day, much of which she’d spent singing off-key to Sly and the Family Stone while she scraped old paint off the siding out front.

  He laughed when she claimed her warbling had scared off two squirrels and stunned every bird within a mile’s radius into appalled silence. She laughed when he told her about Linda’s outburst in the lab that sent Stuart and Miguel stumbling and flying off the treadmills. And the two of them continued to laugh and talk as they enjoyed their dinner, just as they would have on an ordinary date.

  Cliff loved it. And loved Emma all the more for it.

  As soon as both plates were empty, he drew her onto his lap.

  Smiling, Emma looped her arms around his neck and toyed with his dreadlocks.

  “Thank you for this,” he murmured, rubbing noses with her.

  She shook her head. “I love you, Cliff. Not just your perfect body and handsome face, but your intelligence and sense of humor and caring nature. I love every minute we spend together, however we choose to spend it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Amber light flared to life in Cliff’s eyes as he brushed her lips with his. Once. Twice. Then deepened the contact.

  Desire shot through Emma when his arms tightened around her and his tongue stroked hers. She could feel Cliff’s erection trapped beneath her, but that wasn’t where she wanted it. Dropping her hands to his shoulders, she rose onto her knees, slung a leg over his, and straddled him.

  As soon as she sank onto his lap, Cliff gripped her ass in both hands and tugged her tight against him. Yes. His hard cock, still constrained by the fabric of his pants, rubbed her clit. Moaning, she rocked against him as his kisses grew more feverish, his hands more bold.

  Cool air wafted across her back as he drew her zipper down. Emma abandoned his lips long enough for him to yank her dress over her head and toss it on the floor. Then she kissed him again, loving his taste, the fervent exploration of his hands.

  His thumbs skimmed the lace that covered her breasts. Fire shot through her as he teased the hard tips.

  “Cliff,” she breathed. “I want you.” She fisted his shirt, dragged the hem up out of his pants, and drew it over his head.

  He was so damn hot. Broad shoulders. Bulging biceps. A muscled chest that bore dark hair that tempted her. She loved hairy chests. Curling her fingers in it, she gave it a tug.

  His eyes flashed bright amber. He unfastened her bra with deft fingers and flung it aside. Then, bending her back over his arm, he closed his lips around the stiff, sensitive peak of one breast.

  Emma moaned. Arching against him, she gripped his hair. Every touch and brush of his lips set her on fire. She had never in her life wanted a man more.

  Slipping a hand between them, Cliff tore her panties off. “I’ll replace them,” he murmured before delivering a love bite to her breast.

  She jerked against him. “I don’t care. Just take your pants off. I don’t want to come until you’re inside me, and I’m already close.”

  He growled against her breast.

  “Yes. More, Cliff. Please.”

  He didn’t take the time to pull off his pants, clearly impatient to be inside her. Or maybe she just didn’t give him time to. As soon as he unfastened them and freed his erection, Emma curled her fingers around his long hard length and began to stroke him.

  He hissed in a breath as she drew her thumb over and around the crown. “Emma,” he groaned.

  Rising to her knees, she guided him to her slick entrance and sank down, taking him deep inside her, loving the way he stretched her.

  His arms tightened around her as he groaned. “You feel so good,” he uttered, his voice hoarse with desire.

  Then both began to move, urgency driving them, hands stroking, mouths tasting, the passion building and building until she cried out as ecstasy crashed through her. Her body clamped down around him, squeezing his hard length in rhythmic pulses that drew her name from his lips as he came hard.

  Her heart battering her ribs, Emma sank against him. Little aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through her as she nuzzled his neck and felt his pulse race beneath his warm skin.

  Cliff wrapped his arms around her and snuggled her close. He pressed a kiss to her hair before he rested his cheek atop her head.

  She smiled. Cliff was a cuddler. She loved that about him. Or perhaps he was just starved for physical contact. He had been at the network for almost three years now and certainly hadn’t had any other girlfriends in that time.

  Some of the glow from their lovemaking faded.

  Three years. Melanie said most vampires would’ve succumbed to the madness by now.

  “How are the voices?” she asked softly, needing to know despite her reluctance to spoil the mood.

  “Gone.” Leaning back, he cupped her face in his big hands and smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks. His eyes still bore an amber glow as he smiled at her, then touched his lips to hers in a kiss so tender it made her heart melt. “You silence them, Emma.”

  If only she could silence them permanently so he could be free.

  She forced a smile. “Maybe they heard the birds and squirrels talking and are afraid I’m going to sing.”

  He laughed. “Maybe so.”

  Once their breathing calmed, they opted to shower together. Hot water sluiced down around them as steam turned the glass door opaque. As the two of them lathered each other up, Emma began to sing a playful tune.

  Cliff grinned. “Wow. You weren’t kidding.
You really can’t sing. I can’t even tell what song that is.”

  Laughing, she punished him by singing louder until he silenced her with his lips, lifted her into his arms, and took her against the wall.

  It was the first time she’d ever had shower sex. And she vowed it wouldn’t be the last.

  Once dry, they stumbled into the bedroom and tumbled onto the bed where he took her again, swiftly driving her to a third, then fourth, climax. Emma was so exhausted afterward that she had to fight to keep from falling asleep when he rolled them to their sides and spooned up behind her.

  “I wish every night could be like this,” he murmured, his breath teasing her hair as he tightened his hold.

  Reaching back, she curled a hand around the nape of his neck. “Then every night will be, Cliff.”

  “I love you, Emma,” he whispered.

  “I love you, too.”

  * * *

  After Cliff left, fatigue hit Emma like a sledgehammer.

  Having worked the day shift for the past year or so, she had—of necessity—had to maintain an early-to-bed, early-to-rise schedule. So her body didn’t appreciate the sudden late nights.

  Shuffling into the bedroom, she tumbled face-first onto the covers and drew the pillow that carried Cliff’s scent to her chest. “Totally worth it,” she mumbled as she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

  An explosion of sound jerked her awake.

  Jackknifing up in bed, heart slamming against her ribs, she glanced around with wide eyes. What the hell? It reminded her of the time golf-ball-sized hail had fallen when she was a little girl. The noise had been deafening and had utterly terrified her.

  It did the same now. Especially since there had been no rain in the five-day forecast, let alone hail.

  Racing to her window, she speared the blinds with her fingers and yanked them apart so she could peer out at… a tranquil backyard just beginning to lighten with dawn.

  What?

  She didn’t realize until then that the sound was concentrated at the front of the house.