Fangs for Nothing (19 page)

She watched in a daze of ecstasy as he slowly dropped to his knees. She registered the creak of Zelda’s plastic pants as he did so. At another time that might have made her laugh, but right now, all she could think about was that his face was level with her wet pussy.

He leaned close and breathed in as if he was savoring the scent of her juices, the action so erotic that even with her forceful release, she was instantly aroused again.

He smiled up at her as if he could instantly tell when she became ready for him again.

Then, his eyes still locked with hers, he leaned in and ran the tip of his tongue up the slit of her moist, swollen lips. Josie Lynn made a noise deep in her throat. Nothing had ever been so sensual, so utterly sexy as watching him taste her like that. He did it again, penetrating her lips deeper and again deeper still until he found her aching clit. Then all attention remained there.

Again she sank her hands into his hair, this time to steady herself, really to support herself, because her legs felt like Jell-O. He lapped and sucked until she came. Then came again.

“Oh God,” she moaned mindlessly, pinned to the door with his weight against her legs and his mouth between her thighs.

“Please,” she begged, not totally sure what she was begging for. He was already giving her more pleasure than she’d even thought possible. Yet she continued to beg. “Please.”

But he seemed to understand what she wanted, even if she didn’t, because after one final parting lick over her, he rose.

She watched again, helpless to do anything else as he stripped off his T-shirt to reveal his muscled chest smattered with just enough dark hair to make him look ridiculously manly. Then he shucked off the turquoise pants, kicking them aside.

Josie Lynn had already seen his cock, although she hadn’t allowed herself the chance to truly admire it. Now she did. He was large and thick, jutting up against his lower belly.

Even as spent as she should have been, she wanted that inside her. She wanted him to stretch and fill her.

He smiled again as if he had this amazing ability to read her thoughts. He caught one of her legs, lifting it up around his hips so he could situate himself between her thighs again. This time with his body. Then he caught her other leg and picked her up.

She gasped, startled by the action and his strength. She was petite, but not light, yet he didn’t even seem to be straining to hold her. Then he angled their hips until she could feel the head of his penis entering her.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he eased her down onto his full, hard length. Her body struggled to accommodate him, but even that was a delicious fight. Finally he was buried deep inside her and she nearly came again just from that feeling of having this gorgeous man a part of her. Filling her so completely.

He didn’t move right away, letting her grow comfortable with his girth, but then he began to lift her up and down, the unhurried friction exquisite.

“That’s it,” he soothed, “just ride me. I want to feel you tight and hot and wet all around me.”

She was helpless to do anything other than what he wanted. And she wanted it, too.

His movements became more rapid, his thrusts deeper, and soon she was crying out again. But this orgasm was the most intense of all, because Drake came at the same time, shouting out his release.

She curled around him, her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck, her legs around his back. And she felt totally safe, totally relaxed in his strong hold. She didn’t even realize they’d moved until he eased her off himself and onto the bed.

He followed her down, but then rolled them both so she was on top, straddling him.

He looked up at her, those intense eyes of his seeming to look deep inside her, trying to understand everything about her. No man had ever looked at her that way. Like she was the most fascinating thing in the world.

She felt her heart thump in her chest and knew she could so easily get into trouble with this man. But she didn’t care. Not right now anyway. Not with him looking at her like that.

She didn’t feel any insecurities sitting above him, exposed to him, her breasts still heavy and her nipples taut from their lovemaking. She’d always been shy about her size, her build, but with him, she simply felt sexy. Desirable in every way.

He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek, the touch so tender, her breath caught.

“Why don’t you trust men?” he asked, his voice raspy and soft at the same time.

She knew she shouldn’t tell him. It was too soon to open herself up that way, but she found herself looking into those eyes of his, so dark brown they were almost black, and answering.

“I was recently involved with a man who told me he loved me. Told me he wanted us to build a life together. To get married. Then he made off with all the money I’d saved waitressing and bartending to start my catering company, which meant I had to take a loan I really can’t afford to get things up and running. And believe it or not, he isn’t the worst guy I’ve dated.” She smiled self-deprecatingly.

“Wow,” Drake said, stroking a hand down her shoulder and arm. “I can see why you’d be a little wary of guys.”

She nodded. “What about you? Why the fear of confined spaces? Of being restrained?”

Drake’s hand stilled on her arm.

“You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

His fingertips, so much like his voice, both raspy and gentle, began to caress her skin again. “I, too, was involved in a few very bad relationships. Of course, several of them I brought on myself. But one—let’s just say Obsidian probably couldn’t hold a candle to her. Pain was very much her pleasure.”

Josie Lynn studied him, trying to imagine what he was implying. Had this strong, virile man been abused by a woman? Physically abused? The idea stunned and disturbed her.

“You must have loved her very much to tolerate something you didn’t like that way.”

That was the only reason she could think of as to why he’d allow any woman to apparently torture him.

He sighed. “Well, that was long ago, Cupcake.” He instantly made a face. “Sorry, I know you hate when I call you that.”

She smiled slightly, then leaned forward, her lips just millimeters from his. Her full breasts pressed against his hard chest. “Want to know a little secret?”

“Yes,” his response was a breathy growl.

“I actually like it. A lot.”

She kissed him.

* * *

DRAKE GROANED, LOVING
her sweet lips and the weight of her full, round breasts flattened against him.

Goddamn, she was the sexiest woman he could remember ever being with. Every single thing drove him mad. Her sky-blue eyes. Her sassy smile. Those amazing breasts that he wanted to kiss and suck some more. The taste of her—everywhere, which he also wanted some more of. Her ass, her legs, but most of all, her strength and determination.

Josie Lynn was no pampered woman like those he’d dallied with when he was human. Spoiled and coddled. Nor was she like the vindictive, cruel bitch who’d made him a vampire. Giselle’s strength had come from being a vampire and it had made her a bully. She was determined, but only to torture and torment others. And he’d been her focus for a long time. But that was decades ago. And now he was lying with a sweet, giving, voluptuous woman who he knew was strong and determined because she had to be. And he wanted to help her. To take away some of that need to be so strong. He got the feeling she could use someone else to shoulder a little of her burden.

As she continued to kiss him, her lips soft and teasing, her tongue hot and wet, his cock reacted, prodding at the juncture of her spread thighs.

She lifted her head, giving him a surprised smile. “Again? Already?”

He smiled back, too. “I could make love to you all night.”

She ground her hips against him, rubbing his erection against her damp, soft core.

“I can feel that.”

She stroked against him again.

He moaned and so did she.

“Cupcake, I can go all night, but what about you? Are you sore?”

She shook her head. “I’m Cajun, baby.”

He didn’t know what that meant, but it made him chuckle, and his chuckle turned to another long moan as she slid his full length deep inside her.

Then she started to ride him, her hands on his chest, her thigh squeezing his hips, her vagina massaging him like she’d been made only for him.

“Damn,” he muttered, amazed at how she felt.

She pivoted her hips up and down, stroking his length, her gorgeous breasts bobbing with each bounce. Holy shit.

Then she stopped.

“Do you hear that?”

He frowned, dazed and disappointed she’d stopped riding him. “Hear what?”

Then he heard it, the muffled, distant sound of someone singing. How had he not heard that while she had? He was a vampire, his hearing was, well, supernatural, yet he’d been so wrapped up in enjoying Josie Lynn that he hadn’t been aware of anything else. She was like his kryptonite.

“Do you hear it?” she asked again, her hand still braced on his chest, her head tilted as she listened.

Again, singing filtered in from the other room. But it was strange, almost mechanical sounding. But gradually he recognized the song.

“Is someone singing Barry White?” Josie Lynn asked, giving him a bemused look.

He nodded. “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Babe.”

“That’s what I thought. Is it coming from inside the apartment?”

It was, but he didn’t want to startle her. “I’m not sure.” Then he heard something else besides the weird, dissonant singing. He heard footsteps coming down the hallway even though they were nearly silent.

Someone was coming.

He quickly pulled Josie Lynn down against him and then snagged the edge of the comforter, tugging it over them just as the door opened. Josie Lynn made a startled noise, but kept her face buried against his neck.

“I knew it,” Cort said. “When the stupid parrot starts singing Barry White, I know exactly what it means.”

“Hey,” Drake said trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”

Cort gave him a pointed look. “The question is what’s up with you? And why are you up to it in my and Katie’s bed?

“Would you believe things just—sort of happened?” Drake asked.

“Absolutely,” Cort said.

“Whoa,” Wyatt said, popping his head in the doorway over Cort’s shoulder. “Looks like you’ve been busy. Clearly not finding Saxon, but busy.”

Josie Lynn made a small noise and buried her face deeper into the curve of his neck and shoulder.

“You know what guys, why don’t you give me a minute here,” Drake said, tightening his arms around Josie Lynn in a silent effort to comfort her. She pressed even tighter against him as if she wanted to just disappear into his body. Unfortunately, the more embarrassed she got, and the tighter she pressed against him and her muscles strained, the more turned-on he got. He was still buried deep inside her, and it was taking every inch of his willpower to hold his hips still. But damn, he wanted to be pumping in and out of her soft body.

“Oh right,” Cort said, turning to leave, shooing Wyatt as he went.

The door clicked shut, and Drake hugged Josie Lynn again. “It’s okay. They’re gone.”

She lifted her head out from under the blanket and groaned with embarrassment. “I can’t believe they walked in on us.”

“Well, we are in Cort and Katie’s room,” he pointed out. “Which technically isn’t our fault. We were sort of trapped here by the bird.”

She sat up more, bracing her hands on either side of his head, her beautiful breasts so close to his lips. “That was a bird? I thought you said it was a bat.”

“Well, apparently it was a bird. A real asshole of a parrot,” he explained almost absently, his attention on her nipples, which were so pink and deliciously puckered.

“Is the parrot Saxon’s too?”

He shook his head, then caught one of her nipples in his mouth, unable to stop himself.

Josie Lynn gasped and arched her back, pressing her nipple tighter to his lips.

“Sh—shouldn’t we stop? This isn’t your room.”

“We’re already here,” he said, tracing his tongue around her distended nipple. “And Cort already knows we’re here. So . . .”

He drew her nipple deeper into his mouth.

She made a whimpering noise and began to move her hips.

“You are so evil,” she breathed, bobbing up and down on him, taking him hard and deep.

He smiled, even as his own breathing came in short, pleased gasps. “Not evil at all. I just know what I want. And I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

Her motion slowed, and her blue eyes held his, and he could tell instantly even through his own ecstasy, she was trying to gauge if she could trust his words.

He curled a hand around the back of her head and drew her head down to his, kissing her deeply, passionately.

“Trust me,” he said against her lips, then kissed her again. “Please trust me.”

She rose up again, then nodded, just the slight movement of her head, but he knew she meant the tentative agreement, and his heart seemed to swell in his chest.

He caught her hips and increased their speed until both of them were crying out their climax. She fell limply onto him, her body so soft and warm and his.

Drake Hanover hadn’t felt this way about a woman in centuries, and he didn’t plan to let her go. She’d learn to trust him. She’d fall for him like he was already falling for her.

Chapter Fifteen

WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE

L
IZETTE
wasn’t sure where she was going. To her hotel, she supposed, if she knew which direction that was. She was turned around. Looking right and left, she tried to figure out which way was Bourbon Street. If she found Bourbon, she could make her way back to her hotel, where she could pack and get the hell out of this crazy city. Blind panic was causing her to lose the ability to think or focus, and she realized after changing directions twice that her phone would guide her to the hotel with its navigation app.

Digging into her handbag, she scrambled for it, making a sound of distress the second she realized Johnny had followed her out of the bar. She knew she needed to deal with him, unfortunately. She needed to question him on his knowledge of local conspiracies and dangers, and she needed to lecture him about the inappropriateness of sharing their identity with mortals. She was going to need to report that fact back to the VA.

“Lizette! Wait! Where are you going?”

She thought about unleashing her anger on him in French, the English-speaking cad, but then she realized she wanted him to be able to understand everything she was saying. “I am going to my hotel and then I am leaving. I’ll be back in Paris by tomorrow night if I can arrange it.”

“I thought you were going to stay with me.” Johnny looked confused, which either made him an idiot of epic proportions or deliberately obtuse. She was starting to think it was the former.

“I am afraid that is not possible now that I know the truth!”

“What, that I can’t speak French? I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner, but at first I kind of nodded when you used it and you took it as understanding, and then I felt totally stupid telling you the truth.”

That sounded very much like the thought process he would follow. While she did appreciate his honesty—although it was rather late—that sort of behavior was at the crux of the problem, and the reason why she was feeling like she wanted to run away and hide in the forest for a decade. He spoke before he thought. He acted impulsively.

Now that attitude had the entire race of vampires at risk.

So she told him that. “It’s not about speaking French, though it doesn’t thrill me that you would lie about something so silly and unimportant.” She glanced around, checking to see if anyone was in hearing distance. “This is about the fact that Benny seems to think we’re vampires.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes and he rubbed his jaw, the handcuffs a vivid reminder of the last eight hours and all the ways she had compromised herself. She had allowed him entrance to his apartment. She had slept with a man on the Dead List. She had compromised the investigation. And she had lost her panties. All while being ridiculous enough to think that she could fall in love with such a man, given a little time and a few more orgasms.

Enough. She was putting an end to this madness right here and now.

“Oh. Well, that’s just because of the night of my wake Stella and Wyatt and the rest of the band were drugged, and Stella got stuck in bat form and she needed some blood to morph back and Benny was passed out in the bathtub, so she just took a nip, just enough to change back. I don’t think he really believes we’re vampires though.”

“Of course he does!” she hissed, aware of a mime crossing the street. He may not speak, but he could certainly hear. “He was discussing it as if it were of no consequence. As pure fact. You know as well as I do that live feeding is not permitted.”

“It’s not
illegal
. We don’t have a government. It’s just not recommended. But in this case it was necessary.” He looked stubborn. Mystified. Maybe even slightly annoyed with her stance. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? It puts every one of us in jeopardy. We could be killed.”

“You keep saying that, yet I don’t see anyone wanting to kill us.” Johnny held his arms up and out. “I’m still alive, despite what the list says, and Benny wouldn’t slap a serial killer. He is not going to hurt us in any way, nor could he hurt us.” Johnny grinned. “Have you noticed we’re stronger than them?”

A profound sense of disappointment fell over Lizette. If he mocked the VA, in essence, he mocked her. “I am sorry, I cannot be so cavalier about it. I have seen what can happen to a vampire, despite his strength.” No one should have to suffer what her lover had suffered before she had finally managed to sneak in and end his life. She would not watch another man she cared about endure such pain.

Johnny cupped her cheeks. “I think you’re overreacting,” he said softly. “Shit happens. Benny and maybe a few others know, but nobody believes fringe-society gossip. Good people though they may be, no one takes a stripper seriously. It’s the way it is. And this is a live-and-let-live kind of town. No one gets in your business. So we’re perfectly safe, I promise.”

“Hey!” The sudden sharp voice startled Lizette and she glanced to the left. A man was running toward them. Not a man. A vampire. She recognized her kind and his lack of a blood scent.

“Raven?” Johnny asked. “What does he want?”

Lizette didn’t stick around to find out. She started walking.

“I’m going to kill you, Malone! I’m going to cut your fucking head off and roll it from Canal to Frenchmen, hitting every rock I can along the way.”

That did not sound promising.

Especially when Johnny suddenly grabbed her hand and told her, “Run!”

As she ran, grateful she’d lost her Louboutins after all, she felt remorse for flipping Johnny off. That had been childish. Now she was going to die, and she would not have even told him how she felt about him. Other than the fact that he annoyed her, that is.

“I’m sorry,” she said, lungs bursting.

“For what?” Johnny took a sharp right and she stumbled, trying to keep up with him.

“For giving you my middle finger. That was rude.”

“No problem. I’m sorry I’m such an idiot and I pissed you off.” Johnny stopped at a wall and cupped his hands. “Jump up and over.”

“What?” Was he serious? She couldn’t scale a wall. “I work in an office. I can’t do that!”

“Yes, you can. Put your foot in my hands and hold on to my shoulders. I’ll boost you over.”

Oh God. She wrung her hands for a second, glancing behind her. The man with the shaved head was barreling full force down the street toward them, looking very angry. “Okay.” Closing her eyes, she gripped his shoulders and stepped into his hands. When she wobbled, she popped her eyes back open and made a sound of distress. “Johnny.”

“Yeah? You can do it.”

“Even though we can never date and I’m very angry with you right now, if I die in the next five minutes, I want you to know that it’s entirely possible I could fall in love with you.”

His eyes widened as he stared up at her. Then he cursed and threw her in the air in the general direction of the wall.

Lizette shrieked and flung her hands out for some kind of purchase. Fortunately, if you chose to look at it as fortunate in any way, Johnny’s substantial strength had sent her over the top of the wall, and she landed half on it, half over it. Her fingernails dug into bricks as she started to slowly slide down, his shorts riding up around her waist. “Damn.” She was going down.

She landed on her rump in a courtyard with a loud, “Oomph.” It was not glamorous. It was not attractive. It was not even comfortable. But she was alive and she had not broken any bones. Though there was a killer still after them. He had clearly reached the wall on the street side, cursing and yelling as Johnny dropped to the ground softly. On his feet, of course, not his rear end.

“I’m coming over,” the man said.

“This is private property,” Johnny told him.

“Like you have any respect for private property. You ran naked through every room in my house.”

Um. Okay. Lizette let Johnny pull her through the door at the back of the house and into a bedroom. It was then that she realized they must be at Wyatt and Stella’s place. But that wasn’t nearly as interesting as what the guy had just said. She resisted being tugged and turned back to see his face popping over the wall, a prominent tattoo on his face.

“Who is that, Johnny?”

“Raven. He’s a douchebag.”

“Why does he want to kill you?” She had a sinking feeling about all of this. The good news was that she didn’t think she was really in any danger after all. The bad news was that Johnny had humiliated her once again.

Maybe she was wrong.

“Because I slept with his girlfriend.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Anger rose in her, like volcanic lava erupting. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t know it was his girlfriend!” Johnny shut the door and locked it. “She said she was single. It wasn’t until a week later that I figured out what was what. I can handle Raven but I really don’t want to get into a fistfight in front of you.”

“So flinging me over a wall is better?”

He shrugged. “Maybe not. I just reacted.
Overreacted
, I guess, more accurately.”

Which was all he ever did. Lizette made a sound of disgust. She couldn’t believe she had told him she cared about him. Or that he had let her believe she was in genuine danger. “You need to learn to face your mistakes and responsibilities instead of running away.” Given her own reaction with her middle finger, maybe she had no right to call him out on his behavior, but that only proved they clearly were not a positive influence on each other.

“What, you want me to fight Raven?”

“If that is what is necessary, yes. Or perhaps you should just face him man to man and apologize.”

“Fine. You’re right.” He shot her a look she couldn’t decipher and opened the door.

Of course she didn’t want him to actually physically fight with anyone, but she wanted him to at least face the situation he had created, intentional or otherwise. She already knew that it would be impossible for them to have a relationship even if she did live in New Orleans, but somehow in her heart she needed to see that she wasn’t wrong about him—he was a good man, with a kind heart. She wanted to know that she was right to trust herself, and that sometimes emotions weren’t logical, but they were valid.

She wanted to believe in something as romantic as passion and love at first sight, even if it could not be acted upon.

* * *

JOHNNY KNEW IN
his gut that Lizette was right, which was really damn embarrassing. She had a way of making him feel like he was a little kid who had pissed in his pants. But he knew that she had a point, one that Stella had been trying to drive home for years—he needed to grow up. He’d been feeling that very sentiment himself since his wake.

So he told her, “By the way, I feel the same way about you. I could fall in love with you, too, Lizette. Easily.”

He would have expounded on the fact, except that Raven punched him in the face. His head cracked back. Damn it. He’d been sucker-punched.

That was unacceptable.

Ignoring the blood in his mouth from biting his tongue, he raised his fists into position and tried to reason with Raven. He did not want to hit Raven. He really didn’t. He took no satisfaction in knocking someone to the ground, unless it was an arranged fight for sport. “Dude, come on. I’m sorry. I had no idea you were dating her.”

“She has a name.”

Oh, Christ. “Yes, she does. Melissa. Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Could we maybe do this another night, when I’m not hungover?” When Lizette wasn’t standing in the doorway watching. It made him feel like a total douchebag. He was not the type of guy to poach on someone else’s girl, and he didn’t want Lizette to think for a minute that he did.

Okay, so he wasn’t exactly Mr. Commitment. But he had always made sure women knew he was looking for casual. He had never cheated, never deceived, never gone after someone else’s girlfriend or wife. He may be immature, but he had ethics. Standards, for Christsake.

“I’ll buy you a drink, Raven, and we can talk it over, rationally.”

Raven swung at him, but it was wide. Johnny easily dodged it. “Dude, I don’t want to fight with you.”

“That’s because you’re a slimy wimp who sneaks around in the dark seducing women.”

Wow. That made him sound far more ambitious than he really was. “Hardly.”

“Is that how you scored your French whore?”

Hey, now. That was crossing a line, big time. He glanced back at Lizette. Her face was frozen in mortification. “Should I hit him?” he asked her.

She shook her head no.

Damn. “Okay, baby.” If she didn’t want him to punch on her behalf, he wouldn’t. Even if it was hard as hell.

“Raven, you need to apologize to Lizette right now,” he said, trying to stay calm. He didn’t yell. His voice was steely, eerily calm. Forcing his shoulders to relax, he told him, “This is between you and me. Don’t insult her to get to me. That’s not cool.”

How mature was that?

Raven had finally dropped his own hands. “I’m not going to apologize to someone who isn’t here. Not that I was going to anyway.”

“What?” Johnny looked behind him. Lizette was gone. “Fuck! Thanks a lot, dickhead!”

Sprinting through the bedroom, he went through the shotgun cottage and out the front door. Down the street, he saw Lizette stepping into a cab. He ran, but there was no way he was going to catch her. She was around the corner and gone before he could go more than a block. “Shit!”

Pulling out his phone, he tried to call her, but she didn’t pick up. Slowing to a stop, he stood on the corner and called his sister. “Hey.”

“Hey, where are you?”

“I’m at your house.”

“My house? Why are you at my house?”

“It’s a long story. By the way, you and Wyatt should lock your bedroom door. I came right over the courtyard wall and I was in. That’s not very safe.”

“If we locked it, then how would you get in?” she asked wryly.

Good point. He wasn’t always known for using the front door. “Have you heard from Saxon?”

“No.”

“Where is the little freak? Benny said he saw him a couple of hours ago and he was fine, but I don’t think he’s going to be fine when Zelda finds out he’s just been running around without her on his first night as a married man.” The thought made Johnny wince. He pictured a lot of whipping in Saxon’s future.