by amy o'connor
A very expensive meal too…
She owed him…
He shook his head. Guilt wasn’t something he was used to feeling, and he was horrified by the overwhelming impulse he had to tuck her carefully into bed for the night. Sheesh!
Still… He had decided she was off-limits until she’d convinced him otherwise. It couldn’t hurt to be nice, could it?
He compromised, pulling her legs neatly together and swiveling her until she was laying along the sofa, her head pillowed by a scatter cushion. She was still quite naked, and he stared down at her in satisfaction. She had a beautiful body too, even though she seemed quite unaware of it herself. It was obvious she wasn’t used to being so thoroughly fucked, and he hadn’t even got his cock anywhere near her. Actually, he hadn’t even got undressed…
Todd pulled his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons, and padded into the bathroom, tossing the shirt in the hamper on the way. It looked like being a while before she woke up. A cold shower might help him wait out the time.
He paused in front of the mirror, staring at himself. He lowered his fangs, then watched them glide safely back up out of sight. Yup, he was definitely still a vampire. No question there.
Then why the hell was he being so considerate of his dinner’s feelings??? She was just prey for god’s sake!
The fact that a woman was tired had never stopped him before. He could just go out there, wake her up and…
He stepped into the shower, slamming the door hard behind him. If he did that, he’d feel even guiltier than he already did.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
* * * *
Gwen awoke uncharacteristically happy. She stretched luxuriously, eyes still closed, and noted the way the leather was so much cooler away from where she’d been lying. Underneath her it was warm, and beautifully soft against her bare skin. She left her arms dangling above her head, her fingers stroking idly against the grain, and smiled dreamily. With such pleasant dreams, she really should consider napping on the sofa more often.
Still, the real world always came back, and there were always things to do. Having spent the entire morning away from the pharmacy, the chores would be stacking up. There was only so much her assistant could do. Wrinkling her nose in protest, she forced her eyes open.
And blinked. She screwed them shut again, silently counted to ten, then lifted her eyelids. Above her head was a stark white ceiling. Picture windows looking out over the marina were just off to the side and, so much worse than that, Todd Martin stood behind the sofa, looking down at her. His face was expressionless, but his eyes gleamed. The way he was looking at her…
She glanced down at her body, and cringed. No wonder he was staring! She was stark naked, and on his sofa. So much for those pleasant dreams she’d imagined. A wave of heat started in her tummy, rolling and churning, as her embarrassment spread.
Todd just stood there quietly, amusement creeping into his features as he watched her inner turmoil. She started to struggle upright, her stockinged legs sliding disconcertingly on the smooth leather. For a moment, her head spun and the room swirled in dizzying patterns before slowly righting itself. That was all she needed — to disgrace herself by being sick… She stared up at him in horror, all too aware of his gaze and attempted to cover her herself with her hands.
She grasped futilely at her breasts, unable to stop a nipple peeking through her fingers. The other arm slithered between her legs as she tried to hide her sodden curls. She blushed hotly as she remembered just why she was so wet. He’d licked and sucked until she’d screamed. A fresh gush of moisture dripped between her fingers at the memory. Her body was apparently more than ready to do it all over again, no matter that her brain was silently screaming in protest. How on earth had she become so aroused that she forgot all her normal inhibitions?
He was darned good… Spectacular, even.
Gwen slammed a door on the thought. Now was not the time to even think about sex, and especially not to think about having it with the man who was standing so calmly, patiently waiting for her to pull herself together.
“There’s no need to hide,” he said conversationally. Once again he seemed to be reading her mind. “I’ve seen pretty much all of you.” He grinned, masculine satisfaction pouring off him.
Gwen bit her lip, unable to speak, and shook her head. Unbidden memories flooded her mind. Him on his knees in front of her, his mouth locked on her pussy as his tongue worked that magic… She shook her head again in despair as her body answered enthusiastically.
“My clothes?” Her voice was tiny. Pathetic. But at least her brain finally seemed to be wrestling control back from her hormones.
Todd’s grin softened to a smile. “Sure. They’re right there on the chair.” He pointed to an armchair opposite the coffee table. Her clothes sat there, neatly folded. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
He turned and sauntered away, pausing at the door. One hand rested negligently on the doorframe. He smiled, the brilliant green of his eyes gleaming across the room. “You don’t need them, you know. You’re beautiful. Dressed…” he paused wickedly, “…or naked.”
Then he’d gone, the door swinging gently closed behind him. Gwen could have sworn she didn’t see him move. What she had noticed, however, when he’d been framed by the doorway was the fact that he was no longer dressed in his slightly starchy, and very expensive, slacks and sport shirt. His hair was wet, slicked back over his head. A few leftover droplets still clung to his damp skin. They’d sparkled in the light, drawing her eyes over his well-muscled chest.
A pair of comfortable-looking grey sweat pants covered his legs, the drawstring loosely tied so they sat low on his hips, teasing her imagination with a shadowy glimpse of dark hair. His feet were bare, long and somehow masculine. She gnawed on her lip, her hands falling limply to her sides as she considered. The man really, truly, absolutely radiated sex appeal. No wonder she’d fallen in a heap at his feet the moment he’d turned his charm in her direction.
What did he want, exactly?
It was all very well and good for him to have told her he didn’t really expect a weekend of wild monkey sex, but he’d hardly even got her through his door before he had her naked and writhing under him…
She flushed again at the direction of her thoughts. Was sex all she could think about? Apparently. So maybe the more pertinent question was what she wanted? Just sex? A relationship?
Now that wasn’t possible! How could she possibly have a relationship with a man she knew less than nothing about? All she knew so far was that he was rich, and they shared similar taste in architecture. It wasn’t much to go building a life-long commitment on!
Gwen shook herself into action, suddenly aware she’d been sitting on the lounge arguing with herself for several minutes — stark naked — and that he’d probably be back any minute to see what she was doing. She sprung up, noticing the way her body ached in strange places as she crossed the room. And they hadn’t even had sex. Not really, anyway.
She ached though, especially between her legs, and her movements were strangely stiff.
Whatever…
Wasn’t exactly like she’d ever orgasmed like that before… Maybe this sort of stiffness, no, soreness, was normal? She looked back to the door leading to the kitchen. It was still firmly closed. She bent her leg, lifting it onto the chair. Twisting and turning wasn’t helping her to see the one spot that positively throbbed.
Kind of a good throb, though. Every beat of her heart sent a fresh rush of blood shooting through her body, and most of it seemed to be making a beeline for that one point high up between her thighs. Just thinking about it sent tiny lightning bursts flashing through her, reminders of what it had felt like when her body shattered into a billion individual cells, each one throbbing its own release.
Too curious to give in so easily, she gave up on elegancy and bent over to peer awkwardly between her legs. Very aware of the image she must project from behind, her b
ottom high in the air, she blushed hotly. Dammit! She needed a mirror! Or…
Uttering a brief prayer to an unknown deity that Todd wouldn’t choose this exact moment to enquire after her well-being, she fumbled between her legs, cursing the way her fingers slipped. On the third attempt she managed to pull her lips apart. Another ungainly contortion — thank goodness for yoga classes! — and she could actually see the skin that throbbed so strangely.
Just inside the entrance to her vagina was a small red mark. She narrowed her eyes, and jiggled around until the light fell more clearly. Nope, it was two small red marks. Nothing major, no skin broken, but when she ran a questing finger over the marks, her body sprang to life, her blood once again sizzling in her veins.
She snatched her fingers away and straightened slowly, wondering. He’d bitten her, she knew that. She’d felt it clearly. But that bite had been the final straw, that was what had tossed her ruthlessly over the edge of the orgasm and into exhausted oblivion. So it hadn’t been a bad thing. Or had it? It wasn’t like he’d drawn blood or anything…
There was the faintest noise behind her, little more than a tiny change in the air pressure of the room. Gwen swung around, her hands and arms again protectively positioned across her body.
Nothing.
She could breathe again.
Thank God he hadn’t seen her investigating her own body like that!
From the corner of her eye, she saw the kitchen door move.
* * * *
Todd’s heart raced. He was sure that if he looked in a mirror he’d see the reflection of a man undergoing torture. She’d rustled around for so long his curiosity had got the better of him. He’d opened the door — and had been greeted with the site of her firm buttocks swaying in the air, her head somewhere between her knees, and her fingers busy delving inside herself.
He’d almost walked in on her — the temptation to push her right over, to sink himself deep in that tight little ass, or maybe just to fuck her from behind, had been almost impossible to ignore.
The untamed predator deep inside him had roared, clawing at his insides as it strove to break through his usual iron control. It was the closest he’d been to losing his carefully cultured urbanity — the illusion of humanity — in many, many years. The realization that simply seeing her naked could bring him this close to disaster, was a sobering one.
Then he’d heard her swearing, an amazingly girly imprecation about the design of women’s bodies and he’d had to smother a laugh instead.
Still, with her ass in the air like that, her pussy spread wide, her scent had filled the room. It beckoned him. Between that and the pounding of her blood, his overwhelmed senses had been in sheer alt. And now he knew what she tasted like… Holding himself still in the doorway, urgently willing her to continue, had been near impossible. In that bent over position, he’d have had perfect access to her neck. He’d needed to taste her. The predator was again close to escape.
Then that damned conscience — the same one he hadn’t even realized he possessed until today — had chimed in, telling him just how wrong it would be to take advantage of her.
Why couldn’t he just take her? Why?
Screaming at his conscience didn’t do anything. And if he’d felt guilt towards her before, what would it have been like if he took advantage of her now? He’d shuddered at the thought and glided silently backwards, the door swinging gently closed behind him.
That didn’t stop him constantly picturing his body covering hers as she bent over his bed, his cock lodged inside her, his fangs sunk in her neck. Much more of the constant internal battle and he’d wonder about his sanity. His very nature demanded that he force her to submit to him, yet his conscience told him differently. It insisted that she had to come to him willingly, and he just wanted to take her. Now! Besides, he argued futilely with himself, he could control her mind, therefore she’d be willing. He’d make her willing.
He’d never shown any patience before, so why now? On the other hand, nor had his basic predatory nature ever swarmed so close to the surface. But his conscience stayed firm on the issue. She’d trusted him, and he was not going to abuse that trust.
Bah!
His harried pacing was interrupted by a tentative knock on the door, so light he doubted human ears would have heard it. As it was, he was so immersed in his own painful thoughts he almost missed it. It was the incongruity that caught his attention. Whoever knocked on a kitchen door?
Gwyneth.
A rush of tenderness swept away every domineering thought. The poor little mouse was so traumatized by the morning that she didn’t even dare walk straight into the kitchen. She was probably traumatized by her own obviously-unexpected reaction to his love-making too, he reminded himself. He couldn’t hide the satisfied smirk.
“Come in.”
* * * *
Gwen paused, her knuckles still resting on the door. That voice could melt the heart of a hardened man-hater. How could she ever expect to hold her own with someone like him?
She couldn’t. She straightened her shoulders and pushed the door open.
If you couldn’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. As many times as she had to, she’d have to keep reminding herself to take whatever she got from the weekend. If she could just convince herself to lose the embarrassment, then she was sure to gain something from it. Pleasure? Experience? Something, anyway.
“Ah, you caught me.” Todd grimaced across the kitchen at her, raising his hands in mock defense. “I haven’t actually managed to find anything for us to eat yet.”
Her eyes widened. She couldn’t help staring. A lock of his hair fell casually over an eyebrow, his feet and chest were bare — she really hadn’t been dreaming. And that boyish grin… In an instant she knew she’d forgive him anything if only she could keep on looking at him. Who needed sexy calendars behind the bathroom door when they had the real thing?
“Oh?” she managed, swallowing convulsively. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s early for dinner.”
“Neither of us have had lunch,” he pointed out, turning towards the fridge. “How about I whip up an omelet now, and we eat properly later?”
His back view was just as stunning as the front, and she had to lick suddenly dry lips before answering. Even then, it was more a murmur of assent than a coherent “yes”. As he bent to open the crisper drawer, muscles rippled across his back, his movement somehow more elegant now she could actually see all the leashed power he’d hidden under his shirt. As he straightened, his sweats slipped. Gwen’s breath caught. He yanked them casually upwards, unselfconsciously masculine, before dumping an armful of greens on the island bench.
“Vegetarian alright with you?”
“Uh huh.” She nodded, fascinated. Him a vegetarian? Plenty of guys were of course, and he was obviously very aware of his health to have a body like that. But vegetarian? It just didn’t seem quite right.
He didn’t look up, already busy tearing bok chuy into rough strips. “Chili?”
She hesitated a moment. “I… um…Sure.”
“Really?” His tone was mild. He appeared to be concentrating on the carrot he was finely slicing, so she wasn’t prepared for the piercing gaze he suddenly trained on her.
“Do you really like chili or are you just saying that?” he repeated patiently, laying the knife aside, and wiping his hands on the dish towel.
She shook her head, unconsciously stepping backwards, as he glided around the bench. He wasn’t menacing exactly, but… She stumbled against the row of stools that lined the wall, unsurprised when strong hands steadied her. He lifted her easily and deposited her on the closest one, smiling slightly as he stepped away.
“Was that no, you do like chili, or no, you don’t like chili?” His smile widened.
Gwen moistened her lips before replying. There was something about the expression in his eyes that had changed. It was only subtle but… Suddenly she felt threatened, and she couldn’t for the life of her see why un
less it was the fact she hadn’t actually seen his legs move as he crossed the tiled floor towards her. And that simply wasn’t possible. She tried again. “No, I don’t really like it.”
His hands had sat at her waist for only a few seconds — just long enough to settle her onto the stool — yet she could still feel his handprints burning into her. The heat under her skin was almost unbearable. She couldn’t help squirming, uncomfortable under his equally burning gaze. His eyes were practically blazing anger, yet his words and actions were unnaturally calm.
“So why tell me ‘sure’ when you didn’t really want it? It’s not like it’s a particularly mild flavor.”
One of her hands fluttered awkwardly between them in a vain attempt to break up the thickening atmosphere. In the silence she could even hear the soft tick of the battery-powered clock. She’d almost have sworn she could hear his blood pounding through his veins. Gwen rubbed at a temple. This was too weird.
“It was polite?” she offered, knowing it was weak but unwilling to explain to a near-stranger just why she felt compelled to be pleasant all the time.
“It was polite,” he mocked. His stare hardened, his eyes locked on hers, and for an instant she felt the brushing of gentle fingers across her face. She shook her head, annoyed with herself. First dizziness, now hallucinations. What next?
* * * *
She’d obviously felt his careful probe, but he hadn’t succeeded in reading her mind any better this time than he had the last time he’d tried. He could read her sorrow, it was mixed up with fear and defeat. And the waves of it pouring across the room were breaking his heart. He hadn’t needed to read her thoughts to know she wasn’t keen on chili — even a human could have worked that one out — but he didn’t understand why she wasn’t being open with him about something so minor. Did she honestly think he’d reject her because she had different tastes to his?
He caught himself chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip as he picked up the knife and used the flat of the blade to scrape the vegetables neatly to one side. A shuffling noise broke into his thoughts. His head snapped up, the predator staring out from his eyes.
