Biting Nixie (19 page)

That faint smile. “Butler will help.”

“Oh, goody. I hope he's brought the asbestos gloves.”

“Asbestos is a…carcinogen. The gloves are canvas.”

I stared at Julian. “Mr. Butler really has a pair of fireproof gloves in the car?”

“No, of course not. Just teasing. No gloves.” Julian pushed himself straighter in his seat. “In the car, that is.”

Meaning Butler did have gloves at home? “You're a lawyer. You
can't
joke.” Especially not about something as serious as bursting into flames.

“At least…the sex will be hot.”

My eyes opened wide. “Another joke? Did the sun fry your brain, Emerson?”

“Maybe,” he murmured, and leaned over to kiss me on the mouth.

His lips were still too hot to be human. They seared me, set me instantly on fire. His tongue pushed into me like a flame. His hand cupped my head, and his palm felt like a fireplace does after you've been shoveling snow.

“Julian, this isn't the best—”

“Quiet now, Nixie,” he muttered against my mouth. His tongue swept lightly over my lips. His hand drifted down to my neckline. He unzipped and unbuttoned until my bra was exposed. It was unlined, softcup. Julian kissed his way to the tip of one breast, where he suckled the nipple through the thin nylon. Hot mouth tugging, I nearly shot into orbit.

I guess he really did recover fast.

A tinny speaker crackled. “We're almost there, sir.”

“I'm not quite ready, Butler,” Julian said between suckles. “Drive around the block a few times, would you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Kneeling in the seat well, Julian swept away the bra cup and began to feast. His tongue brushed my skin until it was on fire. His fangs bit shocks of electricity. It drove me wild. I clutched his shoulders, my hands grabbing worsted wool. Damn. I wanted to feel him, not his fricking suit.

I plunged under with both hands. Tore back the lapels. His overcoat was open but his suit coat wasn't. Buttons popped. Neither of us cared.

His mouth returned to mine. His hands were undressing me almost too quickly for me to follow. I shrieked, “You too!” and scrabbled at his shirt.

He fizzed under my frantic hands. It was like the first night when we were attacked. He was solid, then misty, then…OMG, he was beautifully made.

My hands roved over naked skin smooth as butter. Rich as cream, if cream coated steel. I swept my palms over his chest. Big slabs of pectoral. Down went my hands. Rippling abs, feathered with short, fine hairs. Down, down…I slid my fingers through a tangle of silky hair, and grabbed…his forearm?

I pulled away, and gasped. At least part of him was
fully
recovered.

Julian pushed me back onto the seat. He grabbed the cloth at my hips and yanked. Jeans, spandex shorts, and lacy boy pants (red this time) came in one pull. Julian's eyes homed like a violet laser on my pussy. His nostrils flared, his cock jerked in my hand.

He lifted my leg over his shoulder and went down on me.

Julian's mouth was burning, this time with sexual heat. His tongue licked flames. His fingers played and pressed and thrust. And something long and smooth rubbed deep between my labia—something that felt suspiciously like a fang.

A rumbling filled the car, a thrum of arousal. A male lion's purr. Only there was no lion, there was only Julian. His eyes flicked up, collided with mine. His pupils, completely dilated, were blood red. Like two hot coals. Like glowing rubies.

Seeing those burning red eyes between my legs, I shrieked and went over. Climaxed in bursts of heat and light. It was powerful, the best I'd had.

Until Julian sank his fangs into my mons.

I screamed. My hips jerked up, thrusting the sharp tips deep. They burned into me like live wires. Julian's mouth opened, his tongue flaming along my clit. He started licking me like a thirsty dog. Lapping, growling. His hands opened on my hips, fingers digging deep as he held me still for his assault. I jerked in his grasp as wave after wave of contractions hit. It went on and on.

When I finally came to myself, I felt a little dizzy. Julian was licking gently over my mons, tickling the ends of my pubic hair with his tongue. His erection was still hard and pulsing, but his eyes were a soft blue.

“That was…” My voice didn't work quite right. I tried again. “Where did you learn to…shit. I can't think straight, much less talk right.”

“Then let me say it for you.” Julian's voice was dark and growly, just the way I liked it best. “That was terrific, because you taste wonderful. And that wasn't learning on my part, dear heart. That was inspiration.”

Shit. With sweet-talk like that, how could I resist? “I heard you guys have to be invited over the threshold.” I spread my thighs and patted my pussy. “C'mon in.”

Julian inhaled so sharply I thought he'd choke. His eyes went instantly from cool blue to burning red. His fangs jumped to attention. So did his cock, standing a rigid forty-five degrees from his belly. His balls looked tight enough to burst.

I put my fingers on my labia and spread.

Julian choked. Vaulting onto the seat he grabbed his cock and stuffed the head into me.

The intercom buzzed. “I've gone around the block three times, sir. Shall I park now?”

“No!” Julian's cock pulsed violently in the vestibule of my pussy. “Drive around it again. Drive around the whole fucking city!”

“But sir…the meeting—”

“Fuck the meeting,” Julian snarled, and drove himself into me.

He stuffed me
full
. I shrieked, and the intercom clicked off with a little squeak.

Between my legs, Julian was sweating. His teeth gritted, he retreated slightly. He thrust again. My eyes popped when he went
deeper
. He withdrew, and did it again. He hit my womb. I jerked with the twang of pain.

“Fuck, Nixie,” he growled. “You're so small…so tight. I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart. Put your hands around me.” He pulled my hands down, against his cock. My fingers wrapped automatically around the tree-trunk width of him.

He was panting now. Sweat rolled off his forehead as he strained into me. He slid himself in as gently as he could, but he was so big he stretched me like a baby's head. I squeezed his cock with my hands, was rewarded with a groan so deep it could have come from the Grand Canyon. “Ride me, Julian,” I urged him. “I'll hold on. Ride me hard.”

Julian took one disbelieving look at me. What he saw must have reassured him—or turned him on unbearably. Because his eyes glowed and his fangs grew even longer and he started slowly but worked up to pummeling into me like a steed in full gallop. It was like a wild stallion turned loose between my legs. I could barely hang on, his thick cock pistoning through my fingers. Even with the extra inches of my clenched hands, he filled me completely and deeply on every thrust. He pounded me into the seat, so hard I bounced.

And then he slowed, and his balls tightened up like wire strings.

I squeezed the hell out of his cock the same moment he bit into my neck.

We both screamed. My legs locked around his hips, grinding us together like granite wheels. His mouth scalded my throat. My hands and pussy pumped him dry.

He collapsed on me. We lay in a sweaty heap on the leather cushions. The compartment smelled of sex. If this was Bo's limo, Julian was going to have to pay to have it detailed.

A good use of his five hundred an hour.

The intercom buzzed. Hesitantly, Butler said, “I circled the city, sir. Should I…should I continue driving?”

“A moment…longer, Butler.” Julian's voice had smoothed out some, but was still croaky.

We took that moment to find clothes. It took a little longer to put them back on. Julian helped me out when my bra twisted. I thought that was nice. He gave my strap a pat, then handed me my top. It was kind of domestic.

Nice?
Domestic
? What was I thinking? I'd just had bloody sex with a vampire. How did I equate that with domestic? Did I think I could tame a vampire? An undead creature of the night?

Did I even want to? After all, I was the adventurous one. Always trying to be bold, risk-taking. Why would I want to domesticate a vampire?

Although it would be nice for my mother.

That woke me out of my sensuous haze, fast.

“Something wrong?” Julian asked, lacing up his wingtips.

“No. Yes. I don't know.” I
couldn't
want to bring a vampire home to meet the folks, could I? Hello Mom, Dad. No, we won't have ham or beer or hors d'oeuvres. A glass of blood, maybe. Or blood sausage. After all, this was Meiers Corners.

I backed away from those thoughts, fast. “So what happened the other night? With all the dismembered vamps?”

Julian eyed me strangely but answered readily enough. “We were able to pull together enough blood to satisfy most of them.”

“Most of them?”

“I had to take a few apart again. Bo sent for extra blood from the Ancient One in Iowa, but it didn't arrive until the next night.”

“You didn't finish them off? Julian, they tried to destroy you and Bo. They tried to
kill
Gretchen and Stella.”

“I couldn't risk it. I don't want to undermine the negotiations with Nosferatu. Speaking of which, we're here.” The limo pulled to a halt. Julian ran a hand through his hair, neatening it.

I helped him. “What are you negotiating for, anyway? I thought this was all going to be settled in court.”

Julian gave me a gentle, pitying look. “Few cases actually go to trial, Nixie. And you'd better hope this one doesn't.” At that moment Daniel Butler opened the limo door. Bright sunlight warmed my back.

I slid a hand onto Julian's cotton-clad chest. “You'd win in court, Julian. I know you would.”

He smiled slightly. “Thanks for that vote of confidence. I know how much you trust lawyers.”

“But if you could stop the annexation in court, why go through negotiations?”

“There's more at stake than the annexation.”

“There is? What could be worse than a bunch of money-grubbing politicians getting control of Meiers Corners?”

“A bunch of blood-grubbing
vampires
getting control of Meiers Corners. If Nosferatu and the Coterie take over here, it would be disastrous. And nothing Bo or I or even the Ancient One could do would help. Nixie, I'm sorry. I've got to go.” Julian slipped fluidly over me and was gone.

“But—” I stared at his receding back. He was traveling so fast his open coat flapped like a flag on a windy day. Oh, yeah. I'd torn off the buttons. Little wisps of smoke followed in his wake.

Apparently what Julian was doing was more important than I thought. I wondered what the Coterie really intended for Meiers Corners, if it would be so disastrous. I guess I hadn't imagined much beyond higher taxes. Julian made it sound a whole hell of a lot more serious.

What was up, I didn't know. I couldn't ask Julian, not while he was head-deep in negotiations.

But then I remembered Elena, and that I was not alone in the land of fangy weirdness.

I had originally meant to accompany Julian into his meeting. But that was only because I'd been so excruciatingly horny. Now I was pleasantly sated. And if Julian was doing his Super Suit lawyer thing, I'd be bored to death. If he was doing some chest-beating vampire thing, death might take another guise.

Besides, Elena owed me mega-explanations. She'd lied to me to keep me in the dark. No blood on the sidewalk, hah. She knew all along about the dentally endowed. About Julian, the Coterie, and the Lestats. Heck, that SMAW wasn't to take out chipmunks.

So, physical stimulation completed for now, I decided to pursue the intellectual stimulation of cross-examining a cop.

Chapter Fifteen

When I got to the Strongwell apartment building a little after noon, chaos greeted me.

The front door was wide open. Various pieces of furniture and household goods were arrayed on the lawn. As I approached, Elena tromped out with a floor lamp.

“Elena!” I ran toward her. “I have some questions for you, girlfriend. And you owe me some answers!”

She scowled at me. Snapped, “You're going to have to wait.” Brushing by me, she plunked the lamp down next to a rolled-up Persian carpet.

I gaped. Elena, surly? “What's going on?” Shaking loose of my paralysis, I trotted after her. The sharp, acrid smell of smoke assaulted me. “What the…? What happened here?”

“What do you think happened? We had a fire.”

“Oh, no! Is everyone okay?”

Elena passed a hand through her long curly hair, making it a wild mess. She sighed. “Yeah. Thanks for asking.”

“So what are you doing?” As I spoke, her sister Gretchen and Daniel Butler's wife Joan stumbled out, laboring under another rolled-up carpet. Elena saw them falter, ran to help.

The three of them, gasping and floundering, lugged the carpet to the growing pile on the lawn. Heaving it into place, Elena stood for a moment, breathing heavily. “We're clearing the room. For the safety inspector. We'll sort out what's burned and what's not once we get everything out.”

“The fire was limited to one room?”

“Fortunately. The parlor.” Elena raised her brows significantly.

“Someone put too much wood in the fireplace?”

“No. Help me with the next load.” She used her eyes to indicate I should follow her inside.

The parlor was a mess. Charred wallpaper and half-burned furniture had apparently been both hosed and foamed. A space near the window was completely black. “What happened?” I asked again.

“Bo and I were working on the beauty pageant last night. Fun way to spend a Sunday.” Elena gave me a grouchy look and I apologized with a shrug. “We went to bed around six a.m. and left the paperwork on the table.”

The parlor table was where Elena and I had pow-wowed the first night I met Julian. It had been…near the window. Right where the black char was worst. “You mean the
paperwork
started the fire?”