He nodded slowly. "Bet I can get naked before you can."
Blatantly unfair advantage! He was half-naked before she kicked off her shoes and unzipped her shorts. Why complain? While she pulled off her T-shirt and unsnapped her bra, she had an eyeful of naked, aroused vampire. Not a sight one came across every day of the week. Might as well make the best of it. She glanced up at the clock. They still had fifty-six minutes.
Pete lolled on her bed, leaning against the head, one foot flat on the bed, his other leg dangling off the mattress, toes brushing the hooked carpet. Astoundingly male and arrogant, yes, but not without justification. He was magnificent, and all hers!
Resting her right hand on his nice, firm thigh, she knelt by his knee, eyes fixed on his impressive erection, and moistening her lips in anticipation. Heart thudding with excitement, she leaned forward and took the head of his cock between her lips. Excitement shivered through her, as he hardened even more under her gentle touch. Breathing hard, she held her lips around him for several moments, before she took him into her mouth.
He was so strong, so firm, so male. Her heart thudded with joy, as he muttered, "Vickie, you are fantastic!"
A groan escaped him as she ran her tongue over the smooth head of his cock and up the side. His hands stroked her hair as she worked her mouth up and down. His need matched her own. She could taste his desire, and sense the rising passion between them. She'd make the most of every minute they had.
"Vickie!" he said, easing her head up and away from him. "Better stop, my love, or this will be the shortest fuck in history."
She grinned. "Think so?"
"Right!" He yanked her up onto the bed beside him. Holding her chin between his fingers, he brushed his lips against hers. "Think I can't make it last, do you?"
"Fast or slow, Pete Falcon, you're worth the trouble."
"You said it!"
His mouth came down, hard, certain and determined. Melding his need and her want. She opened to him, welcoming the caress of his tongue and the sweet touch of his lips. She was adrift in a sea of passion, an ocean of desire, pressing against him in her need. A little moan slipped out, as her hands caressed his chest and eased over his shoulders. She wanted him, all of him, his being and his body. She had to break the kiss to catch her breath—and met his gleaming eyes as she tunneled her hands though his dark curls, pulling off the band that held his ponytail in place. Midnight-dark curls spilled over his shoulders in a soft wave of sensuality.
He pushed her down on the pillow. "My turn."
"Fast" was woefully inadequate when it came to describing Pete Falcon. He had her thighs apart before she took another breath. He bent down, his hair brushing her thighs, pausing a minute as he looked up. "You are so goddamn sexy, Vickie, I'm having trouble lying on my stomach!"
"That's my fault? And it's a problem?"
"I can stand it."
She bet he could! Whether she could stand it was another matter entirely. One touch of the tip of his tongue and she all but came off the bed. He fastened his mouth on her and her hips bucked and her back arched. His strong hands grasped her hips, holding her still, as his mouth worked its magic.
By the time he finished, she was a quivering mass of female need, and begging him for more.
That delighted Pete to the very depths of his vampire soul. Vickie needed him, did she? Hell, it was mutual. It raked him to his soul that he had to walk away from her bed, and cope with some of the sleaziest criminals in creation. For now, he'd ignore what awaited him. Vickie was a cop. She knew. She also knew what she wanted. She propped herself up on her elbows, her hair deliciously on end, face flushed rosy with her inner heat. The heat he'd just tasted.
"I'm not kidding, Pete. I hurt for you."
"I can make that better, my love. No trouble at all."
He moved up the bed, so he rested between her widespread thighs: her beautiful, creamy-smooth, wondrous thighs, and drew her close as he kissed each breast in turn. He stroked each hardened nipple with his tongue and had the satisfaction of hearing her groan, and feel her hips jerk with sexy little mortal movements. Yes!
She was in need and so was he.
He positioned his hips above hers, teasing her by rubbing his erection over her sweet, soft belly. He watched her face.
She was enjoying this, but it wasn't enough—for either of them. Fast as he could move, he shifted, eased her legs wider apart, and entered her in one, fast move.
A long, slow, delighted groan came from her parted lips. "Pete!" she cried, and wrapped her legs around him.
The second groan might have been his. They were joined: one in need, desire and love. Nothing else mattered, not the Adamses, not the agency, only what existed between his love and his soul in this small room.
Her panting resounded in his ears, her speeding heartbeat echoed in his mind, as her feminine muscles tightened around his cock.
He stroked in and out, gently, slowly, wanting this to last, but longing for completion: a completion he was sure was mutual. He'd give her all the joy that ever passed between mortal woman and vampire. Her eyes were afire with lust and need. A sweet sheen of sweat glistened on her pale skin. She was moving as one with him, her hips rocking to his rhythm, speeding with him, slowing as he eased, until she took the lead. What a woman. What a love! Vickie set the pace, working her hips faster, easing and tightening her hold on him as her body rocked with rising passion. It seemed they moved forever. It was bare seconds. Could have been all night. He was past worrying. Vickie was his. His love. His connection with the mortality he'd lost. His everything.
Little gasps came from her open lips. "Soon, Vickie, soon," he promised. He'd give all he could take, fulfill her desire with his need. She arched her shoulders and dropped her head back and the sight of the beating pulse at the base of her neck drove him to the edge. He pressed his cock in harder, felt the first ripples of her climax, and set his lips over her pulse and bit. She cried out, the slight pain lost in the crest of her climax. He closed his mouth and tasted.
With the heat of her mortal blood, his climax peaked and hers burst in wild ripples that shook every nerve and sinew in her body. She was still shaking as he lifted his mouth. He stayed deep inside her, savoring every last ripple of her orgasm as her wondrous body shook in his arms.
As her heartbeat eased and her breathing slowed, Vickie opened her eyes and smiled: a slow, sated, sexy smile that had him wanting to start all over again, but she had mortal limits, and besides, they had to talk.
"Satisfactory, love?"
She had such a damn sexy chuckle. "You bet!" She let out another little gasp and tightened round him again. "You're still hard."
He wasn't about to argue such an obvious point. "It's what you do to me, dear."
"I'm still thinking about what you did to me."
"What we did together."
"I didn't bite you."
"No," he agreed. "How was it?"
Her face gave him the answer to that one. "It was"—she paused, as if searching for words—"orgasmic!"
"It was intended to be." He slid out of her and drew her to him so they nestled together. "I want to have a thousand nights like this."
"Is it really possible?"
"Yes! I'll get them to post me to DC. I'll be close, we can live together or apart—whatever suits you."
"My place is big enough for two, and I've even got the darkroom basement, if you like."
He did like, very much, and told her so.
She kissed him, but he sensed she was still insecure. "It will work out, Vickie."
"But you get posted around, right? You won't be in DC forever."
"I'll talk to my project supervisor and see if we can't find you a place with us."
That got a skeptical raise of eyebrows. "You put mortals in the vamp squad?"
"We need a few trusted mortals as support. People to take care of things while we sleep in the daylight hours."
"Hmmm. Don't tell me you call them Renfields."
<
br /> "We call them assistants. Renfield, indeed! Please, my love, this is not some hack's fiction. This is reality. You can forget the nonsense with crosses and consecrated hosts too."
"What about mirrors?"
He raised his eyebrows. "How the heck do you think I shave or brush my teeth, if I can't use a mirror?"
"Just wondered." She curled close, resting her hand on his chest, and went quiet. Worried, no doubt. He'd thrown a lot at her in the past couple of days, and now he was leaving—for who knew how long and… "What about me becoming a vampire? You bit me, right? Does that mean I'll be one?"
She'd tried to hide the fear but her voice betrayed her, as clear as her heartbeat. "It's not like that. I could take from you for the next fifty years and that alone won't change you. Transformation comes about after mixing and exchange of blood, and certain rituals. It's magical."
"I'm not sure whether to be relieved or let down at that!"
He loved her honesty. "If you do decide you want to turn, it can happen. It's not a decision to make on the spur of the moment if you can avoid it. It changes a lot. Everything, in fact. For me it was easy. I was dying from multiple gunshot wounds. It wasn't too hard to say good-bye to the sunlight when the alternative was death, but for a healthy mortal…" He left the rest unsaid. She had brains enough to work it out.
"I truly don't know, Pete."
"When you do know, then we'll make that choice." He wrapped his arms around her, rejoicing in her mortal warmth. They lay entwined for several minutes. He hated leaving the welcome of her body, but he had a job to do. "I have to go, Vickie. I'm going to nip into the shower. You doze until I'm ready."
She let out a sleepy, very sexy mutter, and lifted her head just enough to kiss him. "Don't leave without saying goodbye."
As if he could.
Chapter Ten
« ^ »
Warm water cascaded over Pete's head and down his body. It was torture to have to leave Vickie. Who knew how long the stakeout might last? Leave he had to, and come back he would. Even the Adamses couldn't do what was needed to douse a vampire. Pete borrowed her shampoo, rinsing well. He doubted lavender scent would impress John.
By the time Pete toweled himself dry and gathered his discarded clothes from the bedroom floor, Vickie was fast asleep, a contented smile on her flushed face. He hated to wake her but he'd promised, so he bent over the bed and kissed her.
Vickie felt his lips on her cheek and the gentle pressure against her skin. She opened her eyes slowly, her mind reluctant to disturb the sweet, hot memories that wrapped around her sleep. But Pete was leaving. She pulled herself to sitting.
"Take care of yourself, please," she said as she swung her legs to the floor and stood. She was buck naked and delighted to be so. Might as well give him a good memory to take with him into the dark.
"I'll be okay," he said, sounding almost smug. "Bullets can't harm me—at least not for long."
"So I noticed." She had to kiss him for that, managing a very nice one, considering she was worn out. Of course, Pete did a good bit of the work. She'd dream of his mouth all night. When she wasn't having fantasies over the rest of him. She was going to miss him like hell. "You might be immortal but you're not invincible. Watch out."
"Vickie, there will be a team of us on the stakeout. Vamps and others. I'll be fine. You're the one who needs to take care. Might be best if you leave for a few days."
"I'm staying put. I'll stay busy." And try not to worry myself sick.
"It might take days."
"Then I will wait days. And no, I will not do anything to compromise your investigation." That was a given, but it never hurt to point out the obvious to a man.
He kissed her again, slowly, full on the mouth. "I hate leaving you." He grinned down at her and cupped her right breast. "Seems such a dumb thing to do: leave a lovely naked woman to ride down the mountain but…"
"You've got to go. Stop dilly-dallying, Pete. The job awaits."
"Lock the door after me and slide home every bolt. I want to be sure you're safe."
"Perfectly safe. I'll keep the shotgun handy in case Sonny comes around."
"He won't be around much longer."
He disappeared into the warm night. Vickie bolted the door, but stood listening as Pete started the engine and the sounds of the motorcycle faded as he rode down the mountain.
She expected to lie awake and worry but she was asleep in minutes, her mind and body sated and content with loving.
Cleaning out the attic, and Grandpa's old shed out back, kept her busy, and provided some intriguing insights on her grandparents. What had they planned to do with all those carefully preserved empty coffee cans? And Vickie was half-tempted to call the Historical Society down in Roanoke to gauge the interest in a collection of number plates dating back to 1933. But on reflection she tossed them in a bunch of boxes and took them down to the recycling center, along with a mountain of yellowed newspapers and an astonishing number of dusty mayonnaise jars. She lost count of how many trips she made down the mountain, her car stuffed with bulging trash bags, but eventually, she surveyed the neat and empty attic, and the shed that was tidier than she ever remembered. It kept her busy, not that she hadn't thought about Pete at least once every five minutes, but the work kept at bay her urges to stroll through the woods towards the old ruined cabin.
Evenings and nights were the hardest, knowing when the fireflies came out, he was out there, watching, waiting, and hoping—as was she. She did wonder how a bunch of vampires managed daytime surveillance. That must be when they called in the mortal support, or the old vampires.
A stakeout could take days, weeks. Her heart didn't want to accept that. She needed Pete, wanted him in her bed, longed to watch his hair spring out in dark curls as he pulled off his helmet, hankered for the sound of his Monster coming up the mountain.
She had to settle for the local news and summer reruns.
It was no substitute.
On the third lonely night, Vickie was brushing her teeth, ready to curl up in bed and read awhile, before turning out the light and sharing the dark with her memories. As she replaced the lid on the tube, two helicopters overhead broke the night quiet. Helicopters with searchlights.
Unlikely to be coon hunters. Could only mean one thing: a manhunt. She jettisoned her toothbrush in the basin, pulled her clothes back on, and for luck, grabbed the shotgun and a handful of spare shells. She was debating the question of iced tea or coffee to keep awake, when the first car came up the mountain. Dammit, she was not staying inside. If she didn't turn on the porch light, no one would notice her in the dark. She flicked off all the lights, opened the front door and slipped outside. A veritable convoy of cars, marked and unmarked, were roaring up the mountain, passing her house in a cloud of dust and gas fumes, and harrying up the mountain.
They could only be going one place.
Definitely coffee. A whole pot of it. It was going to be a long night.
It wasn't as long as she'd expected. She was only on her second cup when the convoy started back down. More slowly this time, as if now aware of the hazards of driving an unmade mountain road on a moonless night.
Three cars passed: one unmarked, two from the sheriff. The fourth stopped, just yards from where she sat on the darkened porch. She knew she wasn't visible from the road. Not to anyone with mortal sight.
The passenger door opened.
A leather-clad leg appeared.
Vickie couldn't contain herself anymore. She jumped up and ran to the railings, spilling coffee on the way and not giving a hoot. "Pete!"
He was there.
Pete Falcon: her man, her lover, her vampire.
He paused at the bottom step, a dark outline in the night. "We got them, Vickie! And a truckload of evidence. We'll have it sewn up tight." She all but jumped the four steps, landing in his arms.
"I never doubted you would."
"Your tip-off was key. Without it, I'd still be tramping around the woods."
<
br /> "Pete," a voice called from the car.
"I'll catch you up. I need a few minutes here."
"Okay, bud."
The door slammed and the car followed the others down the mountain.
As the last engine sounds faded into the dark, they were still standing there, wrapped in the night and each other's arms.
"Are we staying out here?" Vickie asked.
"We've only got a few minutes. I'll have to run after them and catch up before they all get to the field office, but I needed to see you."
She needed more than seeing, but Pete was worth waiting for. "You're coming back soon?"
"Might not make it back by morning. If not, I'll be headed this way the minute the sun sets. I want you, Vickie."
The last four words he whispered, but the certainty and hunger in them matched her own.
"You've got me!"
He might not be able to stay but dammit, she'd give him something to remember her by. She stood on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his, opening his mouth and kissing. Deep. Pouring need and love from her soul to his. His arms tightened around her, until her breasts flattened against his chest, and her hips angled into his. He smelled of outdoors, and maleness, and desire. And he was all hers.
It was going to be a long twenty-four hours.
He met her kiss, his tongue caressing hers, working with a passion that demonstrated his need. She had to break the kiss. She needed to breathe. He had no such handicap. Just grinned as she gasped for air and her heart thudded in her chest.
"When are you going back to D.C.?" he asked.
"In a couple of days."
"Should work out nicely."
Yes, it would! Now all she had to worry about was introducing him to her grandparents.
MIDNIGHT COURT
Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
Chapter One
« ^ »
It was a nightmarish world of shadows separating at the seams, of unending darkness live with the promise of more of the same, Dante thought. The devil take it all—if the devil himself hadn't already done so.
Immortal Bad Boys Page 16
