Immortal Matchmakers, Inc.

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  “Yep.” He turned and marched straight from the room.

  “Hey! Where are you going?”

  “I need to take care of something,” he called from somewhere inside the house.

  “Okay! But you and I are going on a training date tonight! So we’re having a crash course in wooing starting after lunch!”

  He didn’t reply, but hopefully he’d heard her.

  Damn, that was really weird. Maybe she scared him off with her little too much information?

  ~~~

  Andrus headed straight for his bedroom—on the other side of the house from Sadie—locked the door, got out some lotion, stripped off his shirt, and dropped his jeans.

  He’d never felt so hard in his entire life, and this raging erection would not be going away on its own.

  What the hell is this woman trying to do to me? he thought as he took his cock in his hand and started stroking, imagining it was the inner sanctum of Sadie’s hot, wet body milking him hard.

  Images of taking her naked from behind, licking every inch of her body, of her taking his cock in her mouth, pummeled his mind. He imagined cupping her breasts and sucking on her sweet nipples as she moaned in ecstasy.

  Godsdammit. So close. So close. He was too high on arousal to try to talk himself down or to rationalize how wanting her was wrong.

  Instead, he just imagined the sweet taste of her lips on his mouth while he fucked her hard—now from the front so he could see her face when he slid his large cock in and out of her, over and over again until he finally felt her walls contracting around him, begging for his cum. And then…he’d give it to her and…

  “Sadie,” he groaned, spilling himself into his tee shirt. “Fuck! Oh gods. Fuck.” He kept coming and coming, like it would never end. Feels so godsdamned good—

  “Andrus?” There was a knock on his door. “You okay?”

  Oh hell. He dropped his head, panting hard. “Yeah,” he said, in a raspy low voice. “Just doing some push-ups.”

  “Oh. Okay. I thought I heard you calling my name right before you said, ‘Fuck. Oh gods. Fuck.’”

  He winced. “No. Just…cut myself shaving.” Sonofabitch. Did I have to be so loud?

  “I just wanted to be sure you heard me? I think it’s better if I show you what I like, and then you can do it with me tonight.”

  Do it? “Sorry?”

  “You know, dinner? After I go over what I think works with a woman.”

  “Uh yeah. Dinner. I’ll pick a place.”

  “Okay. Enjoy your push-ups and shaving.”

  “Fuck,” he whispered, looking down at his cock. She’d just made him hard again.

  He sighed and grabbed the bottle of lotion.

  ~~~

  That man was totally pleasuring himself to me. What in the world? Honestly, it was kind of sexy. Especially the part about imagining him behind that closed door with his erection in his big hand, that huge bicep flexing and bulging as he pumped.

  “Wow.” She fanned herself, thinking she might need to take another shower.

  Sadie, don’t go there. He might be a little attracted to you, but he is going to meet his Mrs. Andrus. It wouldn’t be doing herself any favors to entertain thoughts of getting intimate with the man.

  No. This is strictly business. Even if her heart said it wasn’t.

  Later that afternoon, Sadie pulled a reluctant Andrus away from his laptop. Surprisingly, for a man who’d spent a few hours jerking off, he looked tenser than ever.

  I wonder if it’s an immortal thing. She tried not to judge. And not to let it turn her on again. She seriously came this close to rubbing one out herself just to relieve the pressure.

  “Okay.” She sat him down in the living room, where he took the large white sofa, and she took the overstuffed armchair. “Let’s start with a little visualization exercise. Do you know what this woman looks like?”

  “I am told her name is Charlotte, and no, I do not,” he replied.

  That’s a lovely name. One of her cousins on her mother’s side was named Charlotte though she hadn’t seen her since she was little—before her biological mother left.

  “Okay. No problem. So you’re going to be introduced to Charlotte at a party, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “Good. Now, close your eyes,” she instructed.

  “Why?”

  “Just trust me, it’s easier to visualize with your eyes closed.”

  He grumbled and then reluctantly complied.

  “Good. Now, imagine you’re in a crowded bar. It’s evening and you’ve put on your nicest suit, combed your hair—”

  “Combs are for pansies.”

  “Uh no, they’re not. But okay; you’ve done that cute thing with your hair that makes it all spikey and messy.”

  “You think it is…cute?” he asked, sounding insulted. “I am an assassin.”

  “Whatever. Your hair looks deadly. It screams ‘Don’t fuck with me.’”

  “This is better.” With his eyes closed, his dark lashes fanning along the crease of his lids, he smiled with those plump little bad-boy lips.

  I swear, his lips were created for buying female forgiveness.

  She continued, “You walk into the room, and you see her waiting for you at the bar.”

  “How will I know it’s her?”

  “Hmm…” she replied. “How did you plan to meet her at the party?”

  “I suppose Cimil will introduce us.”

  “Fine. Cimil is there and—”

  “I punch her in the face?” he said.

  “Andrus, come on. I’m trying to help you. Just pretend you don’t want to punch Cimil in the face and she introduces the two of you. And before you ask, you don’t need to know what the woman looks like, because we’re focusing on you. Just see yourself as you approach her.”

  “I look very handsome,” he said seriously. “As usual.”

  Sadie cracked a smile. “Now I want you to think of two goals when you greet her: One, you want to make her feel relaxed and open to you. Second, you want her to feel safe with you. So what’s the first thing you do?”

  “I show her my sword.”

  “What? No. That is not the first thing—or the second or third—a girl wants to see when she meets a guy.”

  “You really suggest I show her that?” He opened his stunning turquoise eyes and smiled devilishly.

  It sent her pulse racing. “She doesn’t want to see your penis either, Andrus.” Although, it certainly was magnificent.

  He shrugged. “Her loss.”

  “Close your eyes.” She shot him a look, and he once again obeyed. “Okay. The first thing you want to do is show her your smile. Not forced or fake, but a genuine smile that reflects in your eyes. Like the one you just showed me. If you do it right, it will make her heart speed up.”

  “Did my smile just do that to you?” he asked.

  Yes. Absolutely. “Let’s focus on you and her, please. Then, I want you to visualize reaching out your hand and introducing yourself. When you take her hand, let her feel the warmth of your skin and squeeze her hand—not too hard, though. Think about how her hand feels in yours, and look into her eyes. Let her know you’re there to be with her and no one else. Then make sure she’s taken care of—ask what she wants to drink.”

  “What if she already has one?”

  “Then ask her if she’d like to sit somewhere quieter.”

  “What if all of the tables are taken or there is nowhere quiet to sit?” he asked.

  “Then ask how she likes the place or how she’s enjoying the party. It doesn’t matter. You just want to make sure she knows you’re thinking about her comfort without going crazy or coming on too heavy. Guys who try too hard make women feel uncomfortable. And that leads me to your body language: no arm crossing, no standing too close—let her come closer when she’s ready. And, whatever you do, do not—and I mean do not—stare at her breasts.”

  “This is no fun.”

  “Andrus
, this isn’t about your fun; it’s about her. You’re playing a character—a different version of yourself that will make her want to get to know you. If you play your cards right, she’ll let you actually see her breasts later.” The thought of him doing so made her feel a little jealous.

  “It sounds like you’re trying to teach me how to seduce a woman.”

  “Well, I guess in a way I am. If you act like a gentleman and treat a woman well, that can be just as sexy as—”

  “Showing her my giant cock?” he said and cracked a big smile.

  Maybe. “No. Absolutely not. The point is, when you’re with her, you want to be present and aware of her needs. You pull out her chair for her, you make sure the waiter gets her a drink. One of the best techniques they teach actors is the power of eye contact, so if you find yourself unsure of what to say, look in her eyes while you’re thinking. You don’t snap, look at other women, snarl, tell her to be silent or pay attention to everyone in the room except her.”

  “Ah. You are referring to my date with Alexis.” His turquoise eyes burned with intense curiosity.

  “You’re supposed to have your eyes closed,” she reminded him.

  “When I close them, I can only see your face anyway. Might as well have them open.”

  Her pulse quickened and her stomach fluttered. “Really? I mean. Of course, you’re listening to my voice. But yes, I was referring to your date. That was a great example of what not to do. You dismissed her when she spoke and you had your eyes on everything except for her.”

  “I saw only one woman worth looking at that evening,” he said with that deep, deep masculine voice that made her bones vibrate and her heart lunge. What was he trying to do to her? Her body began feeling hot and needy and—God, he’s so sexy. He so doesn’t need my help with women.

  “We-well…that’s a nice thing to say, considering you tried to kill me.” She laughed nervously, desperately trying to change the conversation.

  “A minor detail,” he said, still staring with that intense gaze.

  “Says you. I was terrified.”

  “I quite enjoyed it. It gave me the opportunity to experience your warm body beneath me.”

  Her lungs stopped functioning for a brief moment while she tried not to imagine him on top of her. It didn’t work. Oh damn, it’s so hot in here. “I think there are better ways to get a woman into that position. And don’t say ‘showing her your cock.’”

  He laughed. “You’re no fun.”

  “I’m plenty of fun. Can we get back to your date?” Please, before I explode while sitting here with you?

  “I think I grasped the concept—make her feel like the center of attention, don’t overdo it because it will make her uncomfortable, and make her feel relaxed. Is that about it?”

  “Well, yeah. That’s the basic concept. Let’s do some exercises with body lan—”

  “Good.” He stood from the couch. “I have some work to take care of.”

  “But I thought we could go over some—”

  He held out his hand. “I’m more of a…” his eyes flickered up and down her body, “a hands-on kind of learner. Let us save our energy for tonight.”

  Sadie’s pulse fluttered like mad. Why did it sound like he meant something more? And why did she desperately hope he did? And why did she have the distinct feeling he was going to have some more “me time”?

  Wow. Those immortal men certainly have a ravenous libido. Which, of course, only made her want him more. The thought of him having his way with her all night long sounded incredibly hot.

  “Okay. We’ll continue tonight at dinner. Did you pick a restaurant?” she asked.

  “I have. Be ready to eat at eight o’clock.” He turned to leave. “Oh, and by the way, Tommaso is coming to keep an eye on you for a few hours today. I need to take care of a few things.”

  “I can stay by myself,” she said.

  He smiled, and it was a sexy cocky little smile. Do his bad-boy lips know any other kind?

  “Yes,” he said, “but this would not make you feel safe. And per your instructions, a gentleman always strives to make the lady feel safe.” He dipped his head and left the room, leaving her feeling like a warm, gooey pile of sexual need. This man was so different from the Andrus she’d first met, like he’d shed a few tons of ice around his soul. His sexual magnetism was off the charts. As was his charm and raw masculine energy and…

  Dammit, why does he have to be taken?

  ~~~

  A little after five in the afternoon, the dog Niccolo—a really cute, elderly cocker spaniel she’d learned Andrus had adopted from the local pound—began barking, alerting them that Tommaso was at the front door. When she opened it, the word “wow” came to mind. He looked like he’d just come from a runway shoot, wearing a black suit, deep purple shirt, and black tie.

  He bent forward to kiss her cheek. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite runaway mortal.”

  “Hi, Tommaso.” She gave him a quick hug. “It if isn’t my favorite lady’s man.” He’d seriously had a line of women and men—asking him to dance, drink, or have sex—when they were at that club. Honestly, the man was gorgeous. Drop-dead frigging insanely gorgeous. But Andrus’s rough edges and cavalier attitude made him a little badder, a little sexier, and maybe a little more challenging. Yeah, I’m definitely on Team Andrus.

  Tommaso straightened his tie and stepped inside. “Well, I am going to be off the market soon, so it’s nice to do a little innocent socializing before the big day.”

  She shut the door behind him. “Are you excited?”

  “Nervous, more than anything. I’ve been in love before, but I’m told it’s much more intense with a mate. Some mates are so connected they can hear each other’s thoughts, feel each other’s emotions. It is rumored that even the great Niccolo DiConti, former vampire general, experiences his mate’s PMS once a month.”

  Funny. The cocker spaniel’s name is Niccolo. “Oh. That does sound scary. If my husband knew what went on inside my head when I’m hormonal, I think he’d run for the hills.”

  Andrus appeared behind him, still wearing his faded, sexy-as-hell button flies, and a thin, light blue sweater that made his eyes sparkle. “Yes, I bet it’s quite the dirty place. But some of us men happen to enjoy that.”

  “Andrus.” Tommaso dipped his head.

  “Thanks for coming,” Andrus said. “And thank you for swearing on your eternal soul that you will not remove her from the house.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” Tommaso said.

  Andrus shot him a look. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Did you find a lead?” Tommaso asked.

  “In fact, I did. I’ll tell you more when I return.” He headed for the door.

  “Andrus?” she said, unsure of what she wanted to say. “You look nice out of your leather pants.” Wait. That came out wrong. “I meant, you look hot in jeans.” Wait. That came out wrong, too. “You don’t look as hard anymore.” Oh no. Stop it mouth. “Never mind.”

  He gave her an odd look and then flashed a devilish smile. “Like I said, I promised not to judge.”

  He went out the front door, and she watched him walk away, that hard ass flexing into perfect mounds as he moved. Goddammit. I’m so in trouble.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  He is definitely not a Maaskab, Andrus thought to himself while staring down at the bloated corpse lying across the cold stainless steel autopsy table.

  “So, I’m guessing from the seaweed stuck in his hair that the man drowned?” Andrus asked the mortician, who was an older gentleman, likely in his sixties, snacking on a pastrami sandwich, the mayo dripping all over the front of his bloodstained lab coat.

  Gods. He did not just wipe that glob and eat it. I am thoroughly revolted. And this coming from a person who’d seen his fair share of repulsive things in his life. Like the time he and his men had tracked down a nest of Obscuros—evil vampires—who ran a nursing home in Caracas. Obviously, they were treating the p
oor helpless mortals like their personal blood buffet, but from the bodies they found, there was much more going on.

  I shall never forget the cold smiles on their wrinkly faces. He shivered.

  “Yeah,” the mortician said, smacking away on his lunch. “I can’t discuss the nature of his death since there needs to be a full autopsy and police investigation, but since you’re a friend of Cimil’s, I can say we assume he drowned.”

  Why Cimil had a personal relationship with the county coroner, one could only guess. Perhaps it was the nature of her work or out of convenience. Things tended to end up dead when she was around. And by things, he meant people. Generally bad people, but not always.

  Andrus scratched his beard. “Thank you. If you find out anything more, please call me. I’ll make it worth your while.” He jotted down his number and headed out to his SUV.

  Tim was dead, but from the look of him, he’d been dead for several days. That meant Tim had not been the one to attack Sadie at the club last night. And that meant he’d have to continue keeping an eye on her.

  Fuck. Now he had no idea what to do. With every passing second, he felt more drawn to her—her voice, her glib little laugh, her defiant nature. And dammit if she didn’t make him harder than reinforced steel. Especially seeing her in those tight little jeans that accentuated the curve of her hips. She probably wore one of her lacy little thongs underneath. Oh yes, he’d seen the entire collection when he’d packed up her belongings before going to retrieve her from Tommaso’s house last night. Of course, she hadn’t been there because she refused to obey his orders, which strangely made him even more fucking hot for her.

  Feisty little she-devil takes orders from no one.

  Sexually speaking, he’d never felt more potent chemistry with anyone. Regardless, it would not be fair to start something with her, knowing he was going to meet the second love of his existence within a few days. He’d experienced the mate connection before, and it was all consuming. One might find another person attractive. One might even develop romantic feelings for another, but it paled in comparison to the deep, gnawing insatiable love and passion one felt for a mate. He could promise Sadie the stars and the moon and feel in his heart it wasn’t a lie, but the moment he set eyes on his mate, nothing else would matter. Even if this woman rejected him at the mixer because he failed to be chivalrous, he’d spend the rest of his days pursuing her. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself.