Biting Serendipity: April Fools For Love (Biting Love Short Bites Book 4)

by Mary Hughes

  “Right.” I was ultra-aware of him, all that male strength and heat mere inches from me. “Except, Meiers Corners motto, Kinder, Küche, Squeaky-Klean. The Merry Mädchens scour it daily.”

  “Ah. True.”

  We hadn’t looked away from each other this whole time. His hands covered my waist, radiating heat up my ribcage. I was average size, but he had big hands, and I was beginning to prickle with sweat. “Um…aren’t you getting tired holding me up?”

  “No. Wait, yes. You’ll have to put your arms around my neck.”

  “What?” Hold onto him? With my bare arms? On his bare neck?

  Skin to skin?

  “Yes, I’m getting tired. Put your arms around my neck.”

  He didn’t look tired. He looked like Atlas, lifting the celestial spheres for all time.

  But maybe he was using vampire compulsion, and I wasn’t as immune as I thought, because my arms snaked around his neck.

  Yeah, lying to myself. It wasn’t compulsion. I wanted to do it. I wanted to be close to him, touching, kissing…my body took the thought as a command, and I snuggled up.

  Our gazes were still locked, our faces so close now our breath mingled.

  What was wrong with me? He disapproved of me, didn’t understand me, or at least didn’t understand who I needed to be.

  “There now,” he said. “This is better. Isn’t this better?”

  His heat beat against me, through my laced-up vest and peasant blouse, beginning to scorch my skin. I could only nod.

  My nod brushed my lips against his.

  He sucked in his breath. The moment shimmered between us.

  “I want to kiss you.” He whispered it. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

  I nodded again, slowly. It brushed our lips, petal-soft, together.

  “Good.” His lids lowered; his dark blond lashes feathered against his cheeks.

  He opened his mouth on mine.

  Sparks of desire shuddered through my system. I edged my tongue out, licking his lip.

  He jerked in reaction. His grip shifted, wrapping firmly around my waist and hips, holding me to him. It felt natural to curl my legs around his waist, my ankles crossed at his back.

  Lips parted, he pressed his mouth to mine, gently exploring.

  I sighed and leaned into the kiss. He tasted effervescent, like a Pilsener. My lips parted, wanting more. Remembering his jerk of reaction to my tongue, I licked him again. He groaned and thrust his tongue into my mouth in return, and the taste got darker, richer, like a bock.

  Excitement tightened all my muscles, arms and legs and thighs, until I wrapped him like a sweater. My breasts rubbed against his chest as my breath came faster.

  He groaned and, lifting his mouth from mine, turned to set me on the tabletop. My eyes flew open and I started to object—until his hand settled on my breast. Gently, he tested the mound’s weight, heat and heft tingling through me. As he palmed me, his thumb made slow circles around the rim of the areola—without quite touching it, piquing its interest and mine. The nipple puckered, and I waited breathlessly for him to do more. For the light tingling sensations, like his taste, to become something darker and richer.

  His gaze flicked up to me, gauging my reaction. I signaled by subtly thrusting my breasts toward him.

  Thor made a hungry sound and flipped the rucked edge of my blouse under one breast, exposing the bra. He bent and licked along the edge of the bra, searing a line of fire. I hissed.

  “Hot?” he said pleasantly.

  “I’ll show you hot.” Years of reining in my wild child—poofed.

  Two-handed, I grabbed both neckline and bra straps, and tore down. My breasts sprang free, nipples tight in anticipation.

  He sucked in a breath. His gaze was nailed to my tits, his irises and pupils burning red.

  And just peeking from between his lips were two fangs.

  Somehow, the sight of those sharp tips set me instantly on fire. I grabbed him for a kiss, locking my ankles behind him so he had no choice. Maybe that inflamed him too, because he pressed into the cradle of my thighs. My skirt ruffle had ridden up my hips, and his body was searing hot against my panties, but I didn’t stop, didn’t even slow. I left staid behind and kissed him with the wildness in me, licking everything I could reach, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his fangs…I swiped a long lick to one fang

  A full body shudder erupted between my legs.

  That strong male, shuddering like an earthquake. Yes.

  Of course I did it again. I unlocked my ankles to scoot forward and licked the length of the other sharp canine.

  He gasped. Backed up, palm extended. “Wait.”

  “No. No waiting.” If we stopped now, we’d never get beyond second base. For the first time in far too long, I wanted the wild child to trump Staid Sera.

  I wanted to hit a home run.

  I pushed off the table. He caught me and eased me to the floor, sliding me down his muscular body…uh… I barely remembered what I’d started out to do.

  That long, front-to-front glide scrambled Thor’s brain cells too, because when I finally did remember and ran behind the bar, he didn’t stop me. Neither of us cared anymore that I was barefoot.

  A bottle of honey whiskey on the top shelf was my goal. I stretched up for it. “Take off your shirt.”

  “What?”

  “Off.” I came around the bar, motioning impatiently, eager to show him how good I could make this.

  He stripped vest and shirt with impressive alacrity—he was hungry for whatever I was offering. His excitement fueled mine. And the torso revealed…

  I swallowed, a long slide of lust. Big, broad chest, heavily muscled. Belly ripped to within an inch of its life. Dent of a navel in a feathering of ashen hair. I wanted to lick him all over.

  Which was what the liquor was for.

  “Good. Now, up here.” I waved my bottle at the bar, signaling he should lie on top.

  Intrigue flashed in his gaze. He leaped onto the bar without even stepping on a stool first. I swallowed again as he laid all that powerful male goodness, like a feast, out along the countertop.

  My whole body prickled with eagerness, and my heart bumped along double time. I scrambled up onto the nearest stool. Trembling with anticipation, I pressed an experimental kiss to his solar plexus.

  His abs scrunched ever so slightly in response. “Nice.” A slight burr of pleasure ruffled his voice.

  “Just getting started.” As I pressed more light kisses to his smooth, warm skin, I opened the bottle. “A little cool.”

  I poured a splash onto his abs. He flinched. Immediately, I licked the rivulet off.

  “Ahh.” His eyes closed, and this time he definitely purred his pleasure in a deep rumble. “Nice.”

  “A different nice?” I poured more into his dent of a navel, lapped it off.

  “Mmm.”

  I wanted more than “nice.” More than “mmm.” I tipped a little whiskey—onto his nipple. It puckered immediately. I sucked the liquor off.

  That got a hiss out of him.

  By this time, my head was buzzing. Maybe I’d licked more whiskey than I knew. But maybe it was the effervescence of freeing a part of me free that had been stifled for too long. I unsnapped his jeans.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting creative.”

  “You? Ms. Schoolmarm?”

  “You inspire me.” I suited action to word, pulling the pins out of my bun and letting my hair fall. He rose to one arm as I did.

  The appreciation in his gaze was worth it. My heart felt like it was flying.

  “Moment of truth.” I returned to his pants, unzipping, wondering if he was a boxers or brief kind of guy.

  Yeah. He was a commando kind of guy.

  His thick erection rose to greet me, shaped for maximum pleasure. I flicked a surprised gaze at him. He looked…smug.

  So I had to. I really did.

  I poured whiskey on it.

  He fell back to the
bar with a hiss. Then I sucked it off… One. Long. Slurp.

  He arched and groaned. “Fuck me, hot mouth chasing cool liquid…that’s good.”

  What can I say? With him, it was easy to be creative. Wild. It was fun. It was exhilarating. It was scary and exciting, and I never wanted it to end.

  So I climbed onto the bar over his legs, opened my mouth and throat, and pushed him in as far as I could.

  He shouted.

  I swallowed.

  He came.

  I took it as long as I could, but apparently, vampires were sexually prodigious creatures in every way. I caught the last with a fumbled bar towel.

  Sitting up, he seized my chin in gentle fingers, drew my head toward him, and kissed me, his lips soft with appreciation. “That was amazing.”

  “Yeah. I was.”

  Maybe he felt my smug grin, because he broke the kiss to search my face, then gave me a grin of his own. “Yeah. You were. But now, it’s your turn.”

  Before I could even suck in breath for a gasp, he grabbed me, tossed me onto my back on the bar, pulled up my ruffled skirt, pulled down my serviceable white panties, and poured whiskey.

  Cool when poured was cold when hitting swollen, needy flesh. That whiskey hit my sex like water dropped on a hot oiled skillet. I jumped. He followed the liquor with his tongue, a long glide of rough and hot. I sizzled. He repeated, smooth fangs riding on the outsides of his tongue, pricking just at the end. I burned.

  Thor licked again and again until I wrapped legs around his head, arching and screaming in my skull, I need to hold onto something. He heard and reversed into sixty-nine so I could fist his renewed erection, and then I lost myself in the over-and-over of harder, faster, more, until I burst.

  It was like a casino win. Lights jangled and popped, my brain going ka-ching, ka-ching ah-ooo-ga.

  He licked me through it, licked me down. He’d come again, too, my hair getting the brunt of it. It was unfettered, wild, and I gloried in it.

  Turning us over, he cradled my head against his chest and hugged me tight.

  My world glowed; his heart thudded under my ear in time with mine. I felt safe in his arms.

  “Hmm. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that technique before,” Camille remarked.

  I shrieked. My blood pressure popped like a cartoon thermometer. I reared up to see a bar towel flying toward my face.

  Thor grabbed it out of the air before I was blinded.

  “This bar better be scrubbed and sanitized before you leave.” She disappeared.

  Lovely. I’d forgotten the cardinal rule—fun was sure to get someone in trouble.

  I found my panties hanging on one ankle and nearly fell off the counter trying to pull them up. Thor caught me. I managed to put myself to rights with his help, although from a glance in the long mirror, my hair was sticking out at an angle.

  On the plus side, I didn’t have to worry about setting a bad example for Camille. She was more likely to set the bar for me.

  Thor smoothed my hair with gentle fingers. “Don’t mind her. She’s just jealous.”

  A smile bubbled up through me. He wasn’t embarrassed. In fact, he’d enjoyed it.

  Maybe with Thor, being fun and naughty wasn’t a bad thing.

  Chapter Five

  Thor heard and scented the man approaching outside the bar before the knock came at the front door, but the sharp rap sent Sera scrambling to finish straightening herself. He tucked a stray curl behind her ear, found and slipped on her shoes, then gently set her on the floor.

  “Police.” A round face appeared outside the repaired front window, topped by a shock of red hair and a black-visored, blue police cap. Hands flattened against the glass, the blue eyes peering in surrounded by enough sandy freckles to qualify as their own beach.

  Thor stifled a sigh. He hoped the glass held.

  “I know you’re there. Open up.” The muffled voice was high for a man.

  Thor exchanged a questioning glance with Sera, then shrugged and went to open up.

  The policeman, heavy duty belt circling his waist like a ring of Saturn, stepped inside and looked around. His wide-legged stance and the scowl on his face went beyond authority into au-thor-ih-tay.

  “Are you the owner of this establishment?”

  “You are?” Thor said.

  “Officer Titus.” The young man tapped his ultra-shiny silver badge. “Please answer the question, sir.”

  Another baby cop on third shift. Thor shook his head to himself. With Meiers Corners on the line between competing vampire territories, the city tended to go through naïve young officers pretty quickly.

  “You’re new, aren’t you? You’re the what, fourth fresh, young face to try to replace Dirk Ruffles?”

  “Fifth,” Sera offered.

  “Trust me,” Thor said. “No one can do eager and bumbling like Dirk could. Did you just start tonight?”

  “Last night.” Titus radiated affront. “Are you evading the question, sir? I’ll have to cite you for contempt.” He pulled out a pencil and pad of what looked like forms, flipped the cover open on the pad, and started scribbling.

  “Contempt? I think that’s only in the courtroom.”

  The pencil paused as a strangled sound of exasperation came from the young man’s throat. “I may be new to the force, sir, but I’m not new to Meiers Corners. I happen to know Camille Lebeau is the owner in question. I’m also adding obstruction of an officer in the course of his duties.” He scribbled harder.

  “Don’t forget entrapment.” Thor pointed to the officer’s pad. “You asked me if I was the owner. Why ask, if you already knew?”

  “I didn’t…I’m not…” He slapped the cover closed on the pad. “Please get Ms. Lebeau immediately.”

  Younglings. So impatient. “I’m sorry, she’s not available at the moment. But I’m her second in command. Can I help you?”

  The officer drew himself up and glared in a most oppressive manner. “Were you aware that the solid front door is in violation of Meiers Corners city codes 8932—section B—and 14939 section C paragraph two?”

  “Is it?” Thor tried not to laugh out loud.

  “All front doors of the city’s commercial establishments must have a window. In addition, the entrances of establishments fronting Main Street—also known by mayoral proclamation as Gemütlichkeit Way—must be, and I quote, ‘folksy and charming.’” The young man poked an underlining finger into Thor’s chest on each word.

  The vampire inside Thor ached to take a bite out of this pugnacious fool. He controlled it by dint of ridiculously strenuous Alliance training. “I’m sure the contractors cleared it before the installation.” He gave Titus his blandest smile.

  “That’s as may be.” The young officer, not seeming to comprehend his danger, reopened the pad of forms and scribbled on a fresh sheet. “I don’t make the law, but I do enforce it. I’m going to have to give you a citation.” He tore off the top sheet and handed it to Thor. “You have thirty days to correct the issue, then fill out forms 842A, B, D, and E—in triplicate.”

  Vision shading a distinct vampirey violet, Thor snapped the paper from the young man’s hand. A low growl thrummed from his chest. He didn’t bother hiding it, and as he looked the citation over, the thrum got louder.

  Sera put a warning hand on his arm. “You look familiar, Officer. Are you related to Captain Ernest Titus, by any chance? He teaches a criminal justice class evenings at my school.”

  He’d overheard her talking about Titus. Students thought the man dished out Ds and Fs to make himself feel superior.

  She’d probably mentioned the captain to Officer Titus to try to defuse the situation, but she’d pronounced the name as Emerson’s punk wife Nixie said it, Tightass.

  “The captain is my father.” Titus drew himself tall, rage in every feature. “And it’s pronounced Tit-Us.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Sera threw Thor a helpless giggling glance that spoke louder than words. Tit-us was just as unfortunate.
<
br />   He gave her a brief smile of commiseration.

  Then he rustled the papers to get the officer’s attention. “I’ll get this to the Camille.”

  “See that you do.” Titus turned and rolled out, leaving the door open for Thor to shut after him, which he did with an irritated slap.

  “I’d like to fill out his form 842.”

  Sera smiled. “I can just picture how you’d do it—with your fist.” She mimed punching. “A, B, D, and E.” Each letter was a jab.

  “In triplicate.” He sketched a jab-cross-jab.

  “So fast.” Her round eyes were impressed. But her smile faded. “We’d better get cracking on that prank. Um, just to be sure we actually work…” She took the bottle of honey whiskey and put it back on the top shelf.

  Thor tried not to be disappointed. But his cock rose with her skirt as she stretched up to put the bottle on the high shelf.

  Until a yawn wracked her.

  He zipped instantly to her side, a solicitous hand on her shoulder. “Your double hours are getting to you. Let’s call it a night.”

  Settling the bottle in place, she sighed. “Yeah, but if we don’t come up with a prank now, we won’t be able to test it in the morning. We’ll be practically winging it.”

  “Then we wing it.”

  I panicked.

  Wing it?

  “No!” Winging it meant potentially wild behavior—just look at what already had happened when I let wild creativity rule—and I was not going to risk that. “That’s a bad idea.”

  “Why?” Thor’s gaze narrowed on me, as if trying to pluck the thoughts from my head.

  “Because…” To cover, I said the first thing that popped out of my mouth. “Because we have to plan in order to get something good enough to win.”

  “I don’t care about winning.” His eyes widened, and then he frowned, as if surprised by his own response.

  “Maybe you don’t. Camille won’t really fire you. But she’s been looking for an opportunity to get rid of me. Not ‘fun’ enough, remember?”

  “Sexy enough, though.” He grinned, but it faded. “Why is this job so important to you? Is it the money? Because I could always give you—”