Dead End Diner: Book one

by Bea Biddle

  The room was left in a heavy, comfortable silence. A million silent words and conversations filled the empty space. Cef pulled Karen against him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him closer. Sylvester chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. Alyssa's boots clicked on the cement as she took a few steps back and forth, pursing her lips in deep thought.

  "Well," Sylvester broke the peace that had wrapped itself around them like a comforting blanket and cleared his throat. "Good for him," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Some people go through eternity not finding their purpose, I'm glad he found his. Although, I am a little jealous. But I will miss him dearly, he was a good friend."

  "Miss him? You tortured the poor boy," Cef grunted with a smile. He placed a heavy hand on Sylvester's shoulder and squeezed it. The action was a silent statement, it was gratefulness at seeing his friend again, it was the happiness that they were both there, and alive. Sylvester answered with an appreciative nod as he clapped Cef on the back. His fanged smile brilliant, an expression of satisfaction, calm and at ease. Karen knew them well enough to see the unspoken words on their faces. Still, she wanted to shake her head at them, wishing they could just speak it out loud instead.

  "It's always nice to be wanted." Sylvester shrugged casually.

  "I'm happy to see you haven't been turned into a pile of dust just yet. I was beginning to miss you," Alyssa addressed him. "You're a pain in the ass, but, I guess, the diner isn't quite the same without you." With a sardonic smile, she added, "Unfortunately."

  "It is hard to keep a good Vamp down, in my humble opinion," he drawled, making a great show of dusting off his shoulders. His bloody, dirty, torn clothes looking none the better after it. With his nose wiggling in distaste, he added, “I have felt better, though. Were blood gives me the worst indigestion.”

  Alyssa shook her head at him, but then her face turned serious. "I hope you are all happy and satisfied. You've just cost me a very valuable employee. I'm not sure he can be replaced so easily."

  "I am actually," Karen said, hugging Cef tighter and feeling him hugging her back. "Quite happy." And she was. Tired, exhausted but happy and content.

  "Good, then so am I," Alyssa stated, squaring her shoulders.

  "But I don't understand what you are doing here? You said your hands were tied, that you couldn't interfere with this," Karen continued.

  Alyssa took a deep breath before answering. She hadn't intended on showing up, she had her orders. The Witches would be furious, but she had made her choice. "Retrieving my workforce. I will have to deal with The Witches when they get here. I will take my punishment," she finally stated with a sigh. "Now, can we all please go back to the diner? Since almost my entire staff had to go off playing with Demons, Pete is all on his own, probably stressed out of his head," she huffed at them, ”I mean, if he has one of those, floating around somewhere.”

  “Also, his math is atrocious,” Sylvester added.

  “Indeed,” Alyssa agreed, “He's most like costing me a lot of money. Let's-” She fell on the floor, landing on all fours, her face twisted in pain as she screamed out. Sylvester moved fast, pulling her back up and holding her upright in his iron grip. Karen and Cef were by their side in an instant. Alyssa growled, trying to push off Sylvester but it was no use, she shook with effort but couldn't stand by herself. “They're summoning me," she pushed out through gritted teeth. "They know. They know. I must go to them." With a final cry, she shut her eyes, letting Sylvester carry her weight. She went limp, groaning in his arms. Shadows grew from the floor, snaking their way up her legs, tangling themselves around her.

  “Alyssa?” Sylvester tried to hold on to her, but the shadows caught her, pulling her down.

  “I must go to them,” she breathed before being swallowed up by the shadows pooling at their feet. And then she was gone. Along with the shadows. The light fading from the room.

  “Right, I believe that's our cue,” Sylvester spoke in the pitch-black darkness.

  "Yeah, let's get out of here," Cef agreed.

  Twenty-three.

  The old pipes creaked, the plastic tub groaned. Water sloshed and squelched in a steady rhythm of waves, splashing out over the edge. It cascaded down the sides, drenching the clothes that had been thrown at random onto the floor.

  When Cef had taken her back to the apartment and told her to take a bath, she hadn't expected him to join her. But Karen wasn't complaining. In fact, she wasn't doing much of anything, least of all thinking. It was so hard to concentrate when Cef was naked and wet. So very, very hard to focus when his hot, slick skin slid across her own and he kissed her into a soft puddle of shameless need. So incredibly hard to think straight when his hands, his wonderful, rough, massive hands molded her body to his in dominant, possessive caresses.

  He mumbled against her throat, whispered endearments she couldn't hear but she could feel them rumble through his chest, feel his words reverberate all the way down his torso. The words weren't important, the feel of them was. And the feel, the meaning behind them, was wonderful and soft and caring. And so very Cef. And Karen couldn't remember a time in her life she had felt safer and more treasured.

  Tangling her hands in his dreads, she guided him to her lips. He kissed her with the intensity she craved from him, kissed her with the passion she had come to expect. It lit a fire inside her so blazing hot she didn't notice, didn't care, that the water was turning cold around her. Or the tub emptying itself more and more, with every thrust, every roll of his hips against her.

  He broke the kiss, his dark eyes searching her face, scorching her even more. She shuddered and groaned, then cried out in complete, uninhibited bliss as his pace increased, riding her harder, faster. He cradled her cheek in his hand, his gentle thumb stroking her kiss-swollen lips. Taking it between her teeth, she flicked her tongue over the tip of it, earning her a groan from deep in his throat and she felt the short, huff it drew from him. It was the most amazing sound. Because she had caused it.

  The sight of her beneath him was intoxicating. She was intoxicating. Cef felt high on lust every time he was inside of her. His heart beat faster, blood rushed through his veins. How could he ever have thought pushing her away had been the answer, when everything about the world was right when he was above her, her legs wrapped securely around his waist. When her eyes, hooded and cloudy with passion, lashes fluttered with every deep thrust, every impaling plunge, told him she was his and his alone. When she mumbled and whispered unrecognizable words, when she gasped and uttered small cries of desire and sweet, delicious surrender. Everything was right.

  He was losing his mind. Surely, that was the only explanation. He was going insane and he didn't mind it at all. He crushed her to him again. Drove into her with a need so raw and primal she cried out and then hissed in pleasure, lifting her knees instinctively, letting him ravage her tired and aching body. Her nails dug into his back as he nibbled and tasted her collarbone, her throat, her jaw, until finally their tongues were locked in a vicious battling and the ability to breathe was not as important as their shared passion.

  Karen broke the kiss with a throaty scream, throwing her head back on the plastic edge of the tub. Tangling her hands in his hair once again, finding the horns nestled in the messy, wet dreads. Feeling them, touching them, holding on as he propelled her onwards, taking her higher and higher. He was showering her chest and throat and shoulders with lovebites, nipping at her heating, blushing skin. She arched into him, against the hard, white plastic beneath her, securing her legs over each side of the tub, rising up to meet his every thrust, his every claim on her body.

  Cef raised himself on his arms, his hands on the edge on either side of her. He trembled, his muscles quivered. The shimmering sight of her underneath him almost undid him. Water dripping of her every curve, small pools in every delicious nook and cranny, droplets mimicking his frantic, frenzied hands as they drizzled down her body, down to the familiar curls where they joined, again and again, madly, hectic
ally, a delirious race to that pleasurable, delectable oblivion he knew he would find in her arms.

  His name rolled off her tongue so naturally, so easily, as if she had been speaking it her entire life. She grabbed the edge, holding on so tightly on either side of her head, that her knuckles turned white. Moaning his name, crying out for him, screaming his name again and again as he pounded her. She could feel it building, she could feel the tightening low in her stomach. He was so big. So wonderfully big and hard, filling her to the brim. ”Cef!” she cried, shutting her eyes tightly, biting her lip. ”Please. Oh, please,” she begged, ”Please don't stop.” She was so close, so close she could taste it.

  And Cef knew it. He felt as though he knew everything about this woman in his arms. He knew her every in and out, he felt every breath she took, every shudder of her body. He felt her. Something that should have startled him, but he welcomed it, welcomed everything about her. Hooking his hands under her knees, he lifted her legs, he spread them for him wider as he continued his relentless assault on her willing body.

  Karen's eyes rolled to the back of her head. She had lost it, lost all sense of her surroundings, of her being, all that was left was the intense pleasure and the building euphoria she knew was just around the corner. And he was going to get her there. She knew it, she knew him. ”Ha- harder,” she pleaded in a whimper.

  He growled with understanding. Pushing her further. The tub groaned and creaked under his impact, threatening to break, the pipes clanked and yammered in objection. But he complied. Knowing what she needed, knowing what he needed. And what he needed was to see her fall apart underneath him, because of him. And then she complied. With a scream of his name, her eyes burst open, her hips gyrated wildly against him as she shook and howled with release, crying out as wave after wave of pulsating bliss washed over her until she had no voice left in her. That's when he swooped in and captured her lips with his own, kissing her as she melted against the tub, her bones turning to putty under his weight.

  The release was exactly what she needed, exactly what she craved. It peeled off everything that had happened. Only Cef could do that and do it better than any bath ever could. Layer by layer it was stripped from her conscience. All the pain, all the hurt, all the fear and horror she had lived through. Cef made it better. Her sore and bruised body welcomed him, her tired mind had hungered for him and his comfort, she had needed him far more than she had realized.

  Cef kissed her deeply, groaning, savoring the feel of her. The way she shuddered against him in the shallow, lukewarm water. Resting his full weight on her, he watched her. Watched as she moaned and sighed in satisfaction, spent and exhausted, watched as her body continued to move with him on its own, watched as she whispered his name again, feeling the sweet sting of pride at the word. All the while he slowed, easing her way back down from her explosive high. He couldn't help but grin down at her, her body so willing to let him explore, to let him claim. He wondered if she knew what she had let him, wondered if she had any idea. He dismissed the thought, he refused to dwell on it, this was definitely not the time for regrets. Not when he had her, so soft and pliable in his hands, letting him comfort her and comfort him in return. He would not ruin this moment.

  Brushing away a lock of wet hair that clung to her forehead, he stroked her cheek, tracing her open lips with his thumb. She was beautiful, almost too good to be true. He could have laughed. What Demon in their right mind would look down on a human being thinking what he was thinking at that very moment? It was absurd. Absurd and wonderful at the same time.

  ”Cef?” she questioned softly, her eyes opened, searching his face. ”What's wrong?”

  ”Wrong?” he asked, surprised at the question. Wrong? No, strangely, everything was right. ”Nothing is wrong,” he stated with a genuine smile on his face before claiming her lips once more.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, responding to his demanding kiss instantly. ”Then don't stop,” she whispered against his lips.

  ”I don't intend to,” he answered with a grunt, accompanied by a swift, deep plunge that made her cry out.

  ”More,” she murmured against his throat. Her hands kneaded his back, massaging his trembling muscles that tightened under her palms, she slid her hands down to cup his ass, squeezing it hard, making him jolt and buck against her with a groan. ”Please. More. I need you. I need the Demon.”

  And that was all he needed to hear. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. With one hand around her waist, the other steadying them on the rim of the tub, he increased his pace, pounding, hammering, claiming. Letting the Demon loose above her. He heard her gasp and groan, felt her already spent body come to life again. He mumbled her name, among other things that made no sense. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster. Deeper. She clung to him, gasping, groaning, unable to keep up with the pace, letting him take control again.

  The tub creaked, old tiles clinked and rattled dangerously on the walls. What little water was left in the tub splashed out onto the floor, joining the rest of it that flooded through the door to the little apartment. Neither of them cared.

  He whispered her name again in a strangled groan. The word vibrated through her. He was brutal, he was vicious, he was ferocious. He was a Warchief and she the spoils of battle. She ached with arousal, her whole body humming for him and he was whipping her forward. She had wanted the Demon, she certainly got the Demon. But she couldn't possibly take much more of this, this was torture. Pure, sweet, unbelievable torture. And she didn't know whether she was desperate for him to stop or if she would kill him if he did. ”Cef-” she gasped out his name, ”Cef, I- I can't-”

  ”Yes, you can,” he grunted. He knew her better. She could take it. She was his. He hammered through. Crushing her to him as if he needed her to breathe, needed her to live. She screamed, clung to him, dug her nails into his back and bit down on his shoulder as he took her. He grunted and growled in reply, threw his head back, wet dreads dripping everywhere. He could feel it, the release he was chasing. Harder. Harder still. But then he felt something better. He felt her. He felt her walls clamping on him as she shattered in another thundering climax beneath him, falling apart with a sharp, strangled cry.

  ”Fuck,” she screamed against his skin, shaking and convulsing around him. Pulling him with her as she tumbled over the edge. He bucked wildly into her, grinding and pumping. With her name on his lips he crashed, came apart above her, spilling himself inside of her with a roar of exhilaration.

  His arms gave in, shaking in exhaustion with holding himself over her. His sore muscles could take no more and he let himself ease down on top of her. Kissing her neck, her shoulder, everywhere he could reach while he let himself finally relax with a deep, satisfied sigh.

  Karen echoed the sigh, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, melting back down into the plastic tub as she hugged him to her. She was more than tired, overwhelmed with a great, but satisfied, fatigue. Her fingers walked along taunt muscles down his back, caressing and stroking. She wasn't really sure if it was her heart hammering in her chest, or if it was his she could feel through him. She didn't care. She giggled stupidly when he purred in response to her touch and nibbled on her throat.

  With another deep sigh, Karen unwrapped her arms and rested them above her head, on the edge of the tub, and wiggled against him, getting herself more comfortable. ”Fuck, I love it when you do that,” she mumbled

  ”Do what?”

  Karen shrugged, closing her eyes, letting her head roll to the side, enjoying his lips on her. ”Anything,” she breathed. ”Anything really.”

  ”Anything?" he repeated, tracing circled with his fingers on her collarbone. It wasn't many seconds after that he had his hand on her breast, kneading it in his palm, his thumb brushing over her nipple. When he heard the sharp intake of breath and felt her arch into his hand, he went a step further. Angling his head down he began toying with the other breast, his tongue flicking and swirling around the nipple until she gasped.
>
  She giggled again, letting him play. She was too tired not to. And she enjoyed it way too much. ”Anything,” she confirmed. His chuckle rumbled through her. ”Anything at all. You're so good at- at- well, at anything. You're just- you're just good,” she mumbled, not really knowing what words left her lips at that point. And not really caring. He was massaging and teasing her breasts into submission and she was, thankfully, powerless to stop him.

  The tub was tiny, it wasn't built for two, definitely not if one of the two was a Demon. But squeezing together had not been a problem. Feet and limbs sticking out over the sides hadn't been either. They made it fit them. Cef suddenly raised himself up, her eyes shot open as cold air rushed over her flushed skin and she gasped in surprise. The bathroom had turned so cold, she hadn't even noticed. Cef gently pulled her up in a sitting position with him, then eased himself down behind her, letting her back rest against his chest in a more comfortable position.

  She tucked herself against him, wrapping his heavy arms around her from behind, but she was still freezing. She reached for the tap and turned on the hot water again, filling the tub. It didn't take long since most of the tub was already filled with Cef. Content, she rested back against him, feeling him cupping her breast again in his possessive hand. ”The spoils of battle?” she asked. It was a comfortable touch, a soothing, grounding fondle in a relaxing cuddle, not a sexual caress. And she could feel him relax when he held her, when he stroked her skin, circling her breast with his fingers, feel him breathe more easily and letting his body rest.

  The purr came from deep down in his chest and he nodded. ”Most definitely.”

  She grinned, knowing exactly how he felt. In fact, if she let herself, she could fall asleep right then and there and probably not wake up for a week. So much had happened, so much. But her brain was pushing it out of her head, not letting her think about it. It wasn't important. Rest was important, she could process when she had rested thoroughly and not before.