by Mina Carter
Despite the blood, the barrel didn’t waver, and his eyes were clear as we looked at each other in a sort of Mexican standoff.
“Would you believe me if I said I really am housekeeping?”
He lifted an eyebrow, then motioned to my purse. “Hand out…slowly. Then we’ll see.”
Crap, I’d been so intent on ogling the male body in front of me that I’d completely forgotten I still had my hand on the knife in my purse. Letting it go, I pulled my hand out as instructed, making sure to make no sharp movements that would get me some extra ventilation in the old circulatory system.
I nodded to his shoulder. “Looks nasty, might want to get it seen to. Don’t want to get something…nasty.”
His lips quirked in amusement. “Somehow I don’t think a rabies shot is going to help.”
This was it, decision time. I could fess up that I was a former hunter and I knew damn well what he’d gotten up close and personal with, or I could keep my trap shut, clean him up and send him on his way none the wiser.
Keeping my mouth shut was the sensible option.
“If that were got teeth into you, rabies will be the least of your worries.”
I flicked the lock on the door, and dumped my purse on the floor. I wouldn’t need the knife. There was a code of honour amongst hunters. We didn’t hurt our own, not unless they turned into something else, and if that happened, then we put them down without mercy. God help a hunter who turned, because we sure as hell wouldn’t.
Surprise showed in those gorgeous tri-mixed eyes for a second. “You’re a hunter?”
“Third generation down the female line,” I replied, ignoring my irritation at the incredulity in his voice. Yeah, so I was obviously older than he was, and I wasn’t built like a stick insect anymore…Well, since I’m not the sort of girl to count the calories in a lettuce leaf, I never had been built like a stick insect…but I had some pride. When I was active, I’d been a damn good hunter.
He still looked sceptical as I walked toward the bed. Sighing, I pulled the collar of my shirt aside to reveal the small tattoo that decorated the curve of my shoulder just under the bra strap.
“Matching set,” I nodded toward a similar design under the blood on his chest. A chest that would be drool-worthy without the blood decorating it.
“Make your mind up. Shoot me, or let me stitch you up. I’m assuming you got it…”
Sitting down on the bed, I started to root through the med kit open there. If I didn’t know he was a hunter, this little lot would tip me off for sure. Suture kit, surgical glue…we weren’t talking scraped knees and splinters here. “Where’d you swipe this lot? A paramedic?”
His lips quirked again as he put the Colt down on the bedspread next to him and I knew I was right. “Liberated it from a parked ambulance a week or so back. Patient was a heart attack vic, they weren’t gonna be needing it for him…”
He shrugged but I knew what he meant. Hunting wasn’t exactly a paid occupation. Most of us are grifters as well, whether that was for information or money. An unattended ambulance was a prime source of the medical kit we all needed on a regular basis. Some hunters were total SOBs, so that he’d made sure the EMTs wouldn’t need what he’d stolen for their patient said good things about him, and made me like him just that little bit more.
“Got a name, handsome?” I asked as I snapped gloves on. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t give a shit about AIDs, I’ll probably be dead long before anything like that puts me six feet under, but were infection? Not even going to risk it.
“Jasen.”
He sucked a breath in and glared at me as I irrigated the wound with swift, efficient movements.
“Oh, behave. Anyone would think a werewolf just tried to kill you.”
My voice was amused as I set about gluing the gashes in his skin and setting the butterflies in place. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dressed wounds like this. Like I said, life on the road was hard. A hunter without scars was either new to the game, or…um, yeah, new to the game.
“Yeah. I’m freaking irresistible, aren’t I?”
He chuckled. It was a rich, low rumble that sent a ripple of awareness down my spine. I dropped my head a little, hiding behind the curtain of my hair. There was no way he was going to be interested, and after a were attack, probably wouldn’t welcome knowing how hot I thought he was. Life was a bitch, and then you died.
Fuck it. What did I have to lose? And, besides, I think we already established I’m not the sort of chick to take the sensible option.
“Honest answer?”
I didn’t look at him as I considered my handiwork. I’ve always been a neat hand with a needle, all that practice stitching up my mother as a kid. I was nine before I realised “needlepoint” mean stitching on fabric.
“I wouldn’t kick you outta bed.”
Silence barged through the door and filled every available inch of the room. Crap. Heat rose in my cheeks as I studiously avoided looking at him. Awkward silence much? I should have just kept my stupid mouth shut.
“Okay, looks as if you’re good to go, handsome. I’ll take these and drop them in the laundry as I go. Saves questions if they don’t know which room they came from,” I said as I turned to grab the blood soaked towels.
A large hand closed around my upper arm, the touch gentle despite the inherent strength I felt there. My gaze latched onto it, and despite everything I did, I couldn’t lift my eyes. As hands went it was drool-worthy. Long fingered and strong with the small nicks and scars every hunter collects.
“You saying I have a chance of being there in the first place?”
His voice was low with a touch of husky that didn’t whisper sweet nothings, it screamed them. I swallowed, trying to free my tongue from where it tried to weld itself to the roof of my mouth. I risked a glance upward and collided with a pair of hazel eyes full of interest and, heaven help me, heat.
“Um…yeah?” I managed, all the while praying. If he was joking, then the earth wouldn’t be able to create a hole big enough to cover my embarrassment. Something the size of China should just about do it.
He moved, his free hand snaking out to slide into the mass of dark blonde hair at the nape of my neck. Slowly he pulled me forward. I dropped my grip on the towels like they were hot cakes.
“I assumed some lucky guy waited for you to come home.” His lips quirked, gathering all my attention and taking it for a little joyride. “And all I could think was I wanted to knee-cap the bastard. Could barely eat that damn pie thinking about it…thinking about you.”
He pulled more until I lost my balance. Hands out I caught myself against his broad chest and sighed in happiness as my fingers contacted solid muscle. Satin over steel. It was such a cliqued, romance book description I couldn’t help smirking.
“No knee-capping required.”
“Good.”
He breathed the words right against my lips and then claimed them. Liquid pleasure coursed through my veins as a shiver chased over every inch of my skin. I’d expected a rough, passion-filled kiss driven by the needs of a male in his prime. What I got was the sensual exploration of the sexual connoisseur as his lips feathered over mine, exploring every curve from the center to the corners and back again. When he got there, he nipped at the fullness of my lower lip, and sucked lightly.
My pussy contracted hard in sheer need. God, if he was this good a kisser, what the hell was he going to be like at other things? A whimper built in my throat as my hands smoothed over the broadness of his shoulders, exploring as I’d wanted to do in the diner earlier.
He let go of my lip and laved his tongue over the tiny hurt. The flesh tingled in the wake of the warm brush. His free arm curved around my waist as he rolled me under him on the bed, and tucked me against his lean, hard body. One thing you have to say about hunters, they sure kept themselves in good condition.
His tongue brushed along the seam of my lips, demanding entrance. An access I was more than happy to give, relaxing
under him with a sigh. My world turned to fire and ice as his hand caressed the curve of my waist in slow strokes, not grabbing or pawing as I was used to. Instead he was gentle, just concentrating on my waist and not straying to my ample tits, or trying to pull my skirt up. His kiss though, that was something else.
His tongue slid past my welcoming lips and into the warmness of my mouth. The kiss that had been gentle turned domineering. His tongue danced with mine, brushed and teased, stroking along it and demanding a response.
Making sure to avoid his damaged shoulder, my hands explored every inch of the toned male body I could reach. I teased his tongue with mine, never quite letting him get what he demanded and seeing how far I could play the game. My body already hummed with surprised awareness, heat sliding between my thighs to soak my panties. Oh hell, yes. I was more than ready.
He rumbled low in his chest and broke the kiss. His breathing was ragged as he kissed along my jawline, the hand in my hair tilting my head up to give him better access.
“Playing dangerous games, darlin’. Sure you wanna go there?”
I dug my nails in his back for an answer, scoring his skin lightly. It was a risk, some men didn’t appreciate a woman marking their skin up. But some…it got them hotter than a June bride. I didn’t need to wait long for my answer. He gasped, the sound somewhere between a moan and a groan of need, and nipped at my earlobe.
“Witch…you’ll pay for that.”
I giggled. Christ help me, I actually giggled. “Oh…I really hope so.”
“I presume you have more than one of these?”
Blinking, I lifted my head to find him looking at my uniform with an expression of utter disgust on his face. I didn’t blame him. The thing was freaking awful, but the owner liked them so all the girls got to wear the bloody things.
“Um, yeah. Three. Why?”
“Good.”
Before I could ask anything else, he hooked his fingers into the neckline and ripped the thing open.
“What the fuck?” I asked loudly.
Heat burned on my cheeks as my body clenched low down. I’d always fantasised about a man needing me so much he tore my clothes from my body. Since none of my previous lovers had shown the slightest inclination to do so, I’d assumed I just wasn’t interesting enough.
He took his time looking over the curvy body his actions had revealed. I wasn’t a supermodel by any stretch of the imagination. Three years off the road had put more curves on me than I was comfortable with, especially in the harsh light of a cheap motel room. I squirmed, worried about the stretch marks on my hips, and wished I really had done all those sit ups I’d promised to do at New Year.
My underwear was plain, but the white satin and lace made my skin look golden. If there was one thing I was fussy about, it was lingerie. After I quit the job, I was determined to finally own more than a-wear-and-a-spare of underwear. Sleek, sexy, expensive lingerie that made me feel like the sex symbol I most certainly wasn’t, and, unlike smoking or drinking, it wasn’t a damaging habit.
His gaze roved over my exposed body, lingered on the deep cleavage created by the confection of satin and lace, then moved down to settle on the scrap of material masquerading as a thong. The look on his face made me glad I’d pushed the boat out and worn the white today.
His eyes darkened, a feral look of possession and desire that stole my breath away. I love the look on a man’s face during sex. That you’re all mine and I’m going to do exactly what I want to you alpha male look. Jasen was no exception. His nostrils flared a little and…my gaze flicked downward…Oh yes, there was definitely some action going on in the pants department. From the looks of it, quite a bit of action.
“Ssshhh.”
He bent over me, his lips following a trail down the line of my throat. My inner woman preened. Here I was, in my thirties, still rocking the sex chick image and pulling a younger guy. I was surprised as all hell, but there was no way I’d pass down the opportunity now it had presented itself.
His hands pushed the remnants of the dress out of the way and his fingertips flirted with my skin. They were everywhere, tiny strokes and caresses that drove me out of my mind. Unable to contain a half sigh, half moan, I arched my back. My head pressed back into the bedcovers, I closed my eyes in bliss.
His lips reached my collarbone and the rough brush of his tongue pulled a gasp from my lips. Liquid heat flooded my inner channel as my pussy clenched again, hard. I don’t know where he’d learnt what he was doing, but hell, he was damn good at it.
Smoothing my hands over his shoulders, I slid one up his neck to bury my fingers in his hair and hold him to me. His lips carried on along their torturous route down the swell of my breast. Within their satin coverings my nipples beaded tightly, standing proud to rub against the soft material as though they begged for attention.
My whole world centered on the path of his lips and their proximity to my nipples under the fabric. I’d never been bothered about having my breasts played with, I don’t know why. Some women raved about it, and romance novels…well, seemed a guy only had to touch a woman’s tits and she had a screaming orgasm.
I figured perhaps there was something wrong with me, that they weren’t as sensitive as other women’s. Boy, was I wrong. Right now, those puppies were practically sitting up and begging for attention.
Long, strong fingers ran up the sides of my ribcage and traced the curves of my breasts in the satin bra. A whimper escaped my lips as I held back the need to beg him to peel the fabric back and put me out of my misery. I’d never…never felt like this with a lover before. I didn’t beg, I was always the one in control. Not whips and chains kind of control, but definitely the one calling the shots.
He cupped his palm around me for a second. The sensation of warmth so fleeting, I wondered if I’d imagined it. There was no imagining his next touch as he tucked his fingers inside the lace and satin cups to tug them down. The fabric caught on my turgid nipples for a second before the pull became too much and the swollen little buds popped free. I bit my lip as cool air washed over me, followed swiftly by the heat of his breath as his lips hovered a bare inch above my skin.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, then leaned down and sucked my nipple into the warm cavern of his mouth.
The fire boiling in my veins increased to an inferno as he nibbled and sucked, laving my breasts with attention. Once he was done with one, and I was a whimpering mass of need ready to beg him to fuck me, he turned his attention to the other.
My fingers tightened in his hair as his hand smoothed over my stomach. Normally I’d have flinched away, concerned about my less than perfectly flat belly, but when his hand started to smooth south, I found it very hard to care about anything but it’s destination.
“You’re gorgeous.” His voice was muffled against my skin as those fingers I was suddenly so interested in started to trace the lace along the top edge of my thong.
“And you’re a tease,” I managed as he dipped those clever fingers under the lace. A chuckle was my only answer. That and a tongue curled wickedly around my nipple as he pushed the lace aside and stroked one of those long fingers along my lower lips.
“You’re already wet. You know how hot that makes me?”
I knew the words were a question, but for the life of me, I couldn’t get them to make sense between my ears and my brain. He stroked again, this time parting the sensitive folds and searching for my clit. One assured sweep later, he’d located the tiny nub and circled it with the broad pad of a finger. I whimpered, which was about the most sensible answer I was mentally capable of.
He flicked his tongue over my nipple and drove me higher with the incessant circling of his finger. With most guys, as soon as they got their hand in my panties it was a quick jerk off and then we were onto the main event. Again Jasen surprised me. Leaving my aching nipples alone, he moved up to claim my lips again in a kiss with no-holds-barred.
His larger body trembled as he covered me, the muscles in the arm
under my neck bunching and releasing as he fought to keep control. He alternated stroking my clit with circling it, never settling into a pattern as he drank—no, feasted was a better word—from my lips. All thoughts of playful resistance were gone now. This was too good, so I let him have exactly what he wanted in the hope he would settle his stroking on my clit into a pattern that would let me come.
He broke away, his breathing ragged, to look down at me. His eyes were dark, full of a dangerous heat that hit me right where it mattered. My ovaries moaned, about to go into spontaneous ovulation I’m sure. He didn’t say anything, just looked deep into my eyes as he slid two fingers deep inside me.
“Ughhhhhmmmm.”
Yeah, sparking conversationalist, eh? I couldn’t help it. Pleasure wound through me, centered around those fingers deep inside me. There was something very self-assured about a guy who’ll use not one but two fingers straight away like that. He’d known I was ready, that my body could take it. That meant he knew exactly the effect he had on me.
He curled his fingers back to press against the sensitive spot tucked just behind my pubic bone. Gotta love long fingers on a man. My eyes started to drift closed in sheer ecstasy, but a small growl of displeasure brought them shooting open again.
“I want to see your eyes,” he said huskily. “I want to watch them as I fuck you.”
My pussy clenched hard around his fingers, bathing them in the heat of my arousal. No guy had ever said anything like that to me before. No guy had ever wanted to watch, mostly they’d just been interested in getting their cock in, pumping a few times and coming. It was as erotic as hell.
Silently I nodded and he smiled. If I hadn’t already been under his spell—what with being spread over the bed like some sort of sacrifice—my tits out and his fingers buried in my pussy, I’d have been his just at that wicked smile.
He kissed me as he slid his fingers free of my needy body. I pouted at the loss, and he chuckled again. I started to plot ways to get him to make the sexy little sound again. Keeping my attention with a deep kiss full of heat and promise he moved, shrugging his jeans off. How he managed it without his lips leaving mine, I didn’t know, but the man deserved a medal for it.
