My Wicked Vampire (19 page)

Even the smooth slide of her tongue across his fangs was sensual. Fangs? His
fangs
? She broke the kiss and
raised her gaze to his. In another world she would’ve run screaming, but this place, this time was different. “Vampire?”

He nodded, his expression wary.

“Let me see.”

He curled his lip, exposing the fangs. She traced each one with the tip of her finger. Real. “How? Why?”
How can you possibly exist? Why don’t I feel afraid?
But in some half-forgotten corner of her brain, she remembered him. And that was the craziest thing of all.

“I said I was magic.” He reached out tentatively to brush a strand of hair from her face.

She didn’t flinch. “Vampires can’t lie in the sun.”

He smiled, inviting her to feel, to taste his magic. “I walked into the sunlight for you. Will you walk into the darkness for me?”

She didn’t understand the question, yet she knew it was important. “I don’t know what you want.”

“You will. Soon.” He breathed the answer as he speared her with a stare that burned down to her soul.

It was one hell of a stare, because it not only burned all the way to her soul, but took her clothes with it. She glanced down. She was as bare as he was. “Magic?”

“Magic.” He ran his fingers through her hair even as he lowered his mouth to her breast. He nipped her gently before drawing the nipple into his mouth.

She sucked in her breath. Obviously he was drawing her strength out through that nipple, because she couldn’t remain upright any longer. She lay back, feeling the warmth of the roof seeping into her, along with a multitude of other sensations. All magnified by his magic mouth.

The woman she’d been would simply lie back and let the pleasure come to her just like her fave TV programs.
She wasn’t a proactive kind of person. But she wasn’t that woman anymore.

As he started to lower his head once again, she stopped him. “Me first.” She sat up and then gave him a gentle shove. With a grunt of frustration, he lay down. The frustration wouldn’t last long if she had anything to do with it.

She would’ve liked to give equal attention to every part of the male body spread out for her enjoyment, but this was only a nine-inning game. She had time limitations.

So she licked a path across both nipples and down the center of his chest and stomach, forming a kind of sexy seven. His moan probably meant he’d gotten over his frustration.

He lifted his hips, pointing her toward her next destination. She kissed a path along his inner thigh, reveling in the heat of his flesh beneath her lips and the awareness of tension thrumming through him. She’d never thought power would be a turn-on for her, but she got a real rush from knowing how every touch of her lips, her tongue, her fingers moved him.

And along with her sense of power came a sense of responsibility. She wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt him. The primal need to protect her mate roared to life. Its ferocity shocked her into stillness.

He started to push himself up, but she took a deep breath and moved on to her ultimate goal.

He was fully aroused. She circled his sacs with the tip of her tongue over and over until he shuddered and reached down to bury his fingers in her hair. Then he forced her head a little higher. Hey, she could take a hint.

Starting at the base of his shaft, she climbed him
with her tongue, circling and flicking and tasting. It was amazing how her tongue was attached to every sexual switch in her body, because one at a time they were all flipping on.

He massaged her scalp with fingers that shook. “Any minute now I’m going to explode and launch us right onto the playing field.” He groaned as she finally reached the head. “The umps can give us an inside-the-park home run because we definitely scored.”

While he was busy thinking up baseball metaphors, she was doing more exciting things. She gently nipped the head of his shaft before sliding her mouth over it. Tightening her lips to imitate muscles a lot lower, she took more and more of him in. And when he writhed and made noises of male pleasure, she withdrew while still keeping up the pressure against his flesh.

Up and down, up and down, she mimicked the motions of sex. Her breathing and heartbeats picked up the rhythm while she clenched her thighs to keep her own enjoyment from getting out of hand.

“Enough.”

She could feel his guttural command vibrating through his body, sensed his control slipping further and further toward that inevitable moment. Well, she had nowhere else to slip, because her control had reached bottom first and was waving up at him.

He gazed at her from eyes that had turned completely black, and his fangs were on full display. When he saw her staring at them he turned his head away. “They’re not part of this.”

And before she could comment, he lifted her as though she were no heavier than, well, an ice-cream cone, and planted her on his shaft.

This was no playful knocking at her door and run
ning off to hide. This was a kicking down the door and storming inside to announce, “I’m home, babe.”

He filled her. Completely. But just to make sure, she wiggled and jiggled and bounced until he shouted, “Be still, woman.”

Wow, his speech patterns changed with his emotions. This must be his “I’m this close to orgasm. Make another move and it’s all over.”

He might not be able to do any heavy breathing, but her breaths came in rasping gasps loud enough for both of them. Her heart pounded so fast she barely noticed the voice from the PA system.

“Strike one!”

He smiled up at her, exposing his fangs. “In baseball lingo, I’m ready to slide into home.”

He wouldn’t get an argument from her.

His gaze captured hers, black with heat and something else beyond passion. She lifted herself from him, feeling the delicious slide, the sizzling friction. The return journey was fast and hard. She wasn’t in a gentle mood today. The primitive savage in her had scrambled from its cave and was rubbing two sticks together with wild abandon. The ensuing blaze wiped out all thoughts, all reason, all logic.

She rose and fell, clenching around the long thick length of him as he picked up her rhythm and rose to meet her on the way down.

Harder, harder, harder. And, oh God, faster, faster.

The heavy pressure low in her belly built with each of his thrusts.

Just. A. Little. More. Each word in her mind was accompanied by a blinding blast of light.

“Strike two!”

“Now!” He reached up and pulled her down on top
of his sweat-sheened body even as he continued to drive into her.

She felt his mouth on her neck and he was shaking uncontrollably. But she didn’t feel the prick of his fangs.

He wanted this. Was she willing to give it? Could she walk into his personal darkness and accept that part of him?

“Taste me.” She guessed she could.

He didn’t ask if she was sure, but he did hesitate, waiting.

“I’m sure.” Her voice was only a murmur, because that was all she could manage. All of her being was focused on her orgasm, building and building until it had nowhere to go, nothing that could contain it.

Everything happened at once.

He thrust into her one last time and she reached her tipping point. Sensation overload gripped her. She cried out as that first huge spasm rocked and twisted her, tying her into a double knot of tight emotions and then cutting her loose.

She felt the momentary sting of his fangs in her neck and then everything flowed into a spasm that threatened to rip her apart with the pure pleasure of it. Could an orgasm kill you?

She felt his own release shudder through him. She wrapped her arms around him and held on. If they rolled off the roof, they’d at least go together.

The crack of a bat.

“It’s going, going, going, gone!”

“Guess Fosen gave up a home run.”

His disgusted mutter barely registered as she trembled through spasm after glorious spasm.

Then the locomotive jerked into motion. It chugged
toward the end of its short track with its whistle shrieking and bell ringing, smoking and steaming its little butt off.

As the final spasm died away, she closed her eyes. “Oh, hell, I’m going to jail, and I don’t even know your name.”

He watched as she sat with her eyes tightly shut and talked to herself. If he could, he’d stop her, but he was still trying to find his own way back. So he said nothing.

“Ohmigod, when this train gets to the end of the track, the police will take us away. My photo will be in the
Chronicle
. My family will see it. Grandma will think it’s cool, but Grandpa’s heart isn’t too good. I’ll lose my job. I mean, even if I can’t seem to remember what it is, it’s still my job.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I can’t believe I made love with you. For God’s sake, I don’t even know your name. And I’m naked. Trespassing and indecent exposure. I’ll have a rap sheet. I’ll—”

Finally, he found his voice. “Open your eyes, Cinn.”

“Cinn?” She grew silent, and then slowly blinked her eyes open. She looked around, dazed. “Wicked Fantasy? How did we get here?” Then she stared at him. “Dacian?”

“We never left here. Eric just took us on a wild fantasy ride.” Dacian rubbed his hand across his eyes. “Wow. Just got a lot more respect for my old vampire buddy.”

Cinn’s eyes grew wide. “But it really happened. I lived every moment of it. It felt more real than this place.” She waved her hands in the air. “In some demented parallel universe, it really happened.”

He nodded. “I know.” Dacian could still taste her, feel her muscles tight around his cock, hear her cries,
and would always remember the scent of summer, baseball, and wild woman. “It really happened.”

He tried not to stare at her neck, but he couldn’t help himself.

She saw where he’d fixed his gaze and reached up to touch the spot. Her eyes grew even wider, if possible. “The wound is fading, but I can still feel it.”

What the hell? The punctures were barely visible, but they were definitely there. How? He pushed that question aside. Even Eric didn’t know the how of it, so maybe Dacian should concentrate instead on a more pressing issue.

Cinn looked up at him, and he saw the moment when her confusion faded and humor took its place. “I can see it on your face. You want to ask if it was as good for me as it was for you. Hey, it was better.” Her smile faded and something tentative and breathtaking showed in her eyes. “Way better.”

She glanced away and took a nervous sip of her drink. Was she remembering his little speech about walking into the darkness with him? Was she trying to think of a way to distance herself from the whole vampire thing?

At last she took a deep breath and looked back at him. “Maybe we can take in a night game sometime. I’d like to see the city lights.” She sounded serious.

“Sure.” He smiled while he tried to decide if there was a coded message he’d missed. Dacian never did come to a conclusion because someone opened the door in his mind. From Cinn’s expression, she was feeling the intruder, too.

“Perhaps you should come back to the greenhouse. There’s been an incident.”

Asima didn’t bother to elaborate, leaving both Cinn
and him to assume the worst. With a muttered curse, he stood and ran from the club, with Cinn beside him.

Dacian didn’t know what to expect when he flung open the greenhouse door and stepped inside.

Asima sat on the table in the middle of the greenhouse. She looked as though she’d just gone through a windstorm and caught a lot of flying debris. The cot was upside down and the chair was lying against one wall, but other than a few leaves scattered around, all the plants seemed to be in one piece.

“What happened?” Cinn sounded breathless as she moved down the aisles, looking at each plant.

“Airmid came. She thought I’d let her destroy the plants.”

“But you didn’t.” Dacian’s opinion of Asima went up a notch.

“I promised to protect them.”
Asima looked militant.

Cinn returned to his side. “Are you okay?”

Asima nodded.
“I heal quickly.”

“How did you drive off a goddess?” What Dacian left unsaid was that Asima might be immortal, but she didn’t have goddess power.

Asima’s tail seemed to have a few kinks in it as she whipped it back and forth. One ear looked a little ragged, and bald spots here and there would give her lots of street cred with Galveston’s alley cats.

“I’ve been a messenger of Bast for thousands of years. I’ve learned to protect myself. Besides, Airmid is a goddess of plants, not a warrior goddess.”
Her eyes gleamed with wicked satisfaction.
“And I fight dirty.”
Her satisfaction was short-lived, though.
“She’ll return.”

Cinn pressed her lips into a thin line. “I’ll be prepared. Thank you for what you did. It couldn’t have been easy to fight your boss’s friend.”

Asima groomed one paw.
“Sometimes you have to make a difficult choice and then be prepared to defend that choice.”

“We’ll take over, Asima. Go get some rest. You deserve it.” Cinn dragged the chair back to where it belonged.

Asima left in a hurry. Dacian watched her go before righting the cot. “I think I underestimated her. She has more power than I gave her credit for. Because no matter how dirty she fights, Airmid should’ve been able to bounce her off these walls.”

Cinn sat on the cot. She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “Will this thing with Airmid ever end? I can’t guard my plants forever, and I can’t depend on others to do it for me.”

Dacian sat on the chair. “You’ll have to talk to her again, convince her to back off.” His expression said he’d be there when that conversation took place.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Neither of them seemed willing to continue the conversation, so Dacian reverted to thoughts of the fantasy. He’d been sure the sunlight and food would share top billing with their lovemaking. After all, he could make love without a fantasy. He’d been wrong. Dacian couldn’t even remember the taste of the hot dog, and the sunlight had hurt his eyes and made him sweat. He liked the night better.

But he remembered every smooth line of her body, remembered the warmth of her skin and the scent of
his
woman. There was possession attached to each memory. The realization had been sneaking around corners in his mind ever since he had first emerged from his rage to the sight of her round little behind. But it hadn’t decided to come out of the shadows until the fantasy.

That was because Eric had made sure Dacian didn’t bring along any of his normal baggage, all of his excuses for why a relationship
wouldn’t work. He couldn’t love a human because she’d grow old and die. A woman wouldn’t love him because of his fangs and liquid diet. Love couldn’t survive as long as Stephan still walked the night. All legit reasons for running from Cinn, but none of them had mattered on top of that roof.

Time to cut off his thoughts before they really got dangerous. He might accept his feelings for Cinn, but he’d never act on them. And she might enjoy making love with him, but she had too much common sense to involve her emotions.

“Hey, I need to talk to Cinn.” Wade’s voice came before him as he pounded on the door.

Jerked out of his increasingly depressing thoughts, Dacian stood and opened the door. Wade strode in, bringing a blast of cold air and the promise of dawn. Damn.

Cinn didn’t look too thrilled by the demon’s visit either. “What’s happening, Wade?”

The demon huffed and puffed and shuffled his large feet. “I was just walking back to my room and suddenly I remembered that I gave you a whole bunch of my fishing gear.” He threw Cinn a confused look. “Can’t figure out why I’d do that. You never said you liked fishing, and to tell the truth, I’d give away my granny—if I had one—before I’d give away any of that stuff.” He did some more shuffling. “So I’m here to ask for it back.” His eyes glowed as he waited for Cinn’s decision.

Relief washed over her. Thank God, Wade’s reaction to Eva’s pollen had faded. That meant her two plants would return to normal—whatever normal was for them—in a little while. “You can have it all back.” She nodded toward the corner where she’d piled everything on a small table. “I appreciate your generosity, but I probably wouldn’t get around to using the stuff often.”
Like ever.

“Thank you for understanding.” He hurried over to his things before she could change her mind. The door banged shut behind him when he left.

“Well, things are looking up.” Cinn refused to acknowledge the herd of elephants still tramping around her greenhouse. She glanced at her watch. “You don’t have much longer before dawn.”

“I’m not happy about leaving you with someone else.” Dacian stood and did some pacing. “I’m getting a bad feeling about things. I know Ganymede thinks he’s got everything covered, but Stephan’s had time to work on his strategy. He’ll have every eventuality covered.” His pace quickened. “The more I think about how everything fell into place, the more I see Stephan’s hand in it.”

“You’re right. Too many coincidences.”

He nodded. “First, my contact calls to say he’s found out that Stephan knows where Taurin is and is coming for him. Then Ganymede gets a tip that I’m in Alaska.” He stopped and his gaze sharpened. “We have a wizard in the castle who’s way too powerful to ever want a job here. So what’s he really after?”

“It only makes sense that someone in the castle is passing information to Stephan. Otherwise how did he find out about Taurin in the first place?” The informant could be anyone. She knew jealousy made Kyla’s name pop into her head, but still, she’d check to see when the vampire had arrived at the castle.

“I wish the damn dawn weren’t so close. I want to check on some things myself. Ganymede might be powerful, but that doesn’t make him infallible.”

Cinn was closest to the courtyard door when someone knocked. She watched Dacian grow still as he reached for the person’s identity.

“Edge.” He scowled.

She smiled. Maybe the jealousy bug was catching. She hoped so. Cinn opened the door.

“Damn, it’s cold out there.” Edge stepped in, bad temper stamped on his face. “You know, I’m getting tired of babysitting a bunch of plants.” He glanced at Cinn. “I’ll babysit you anytime. Too bad you’re attached to the leaf-people.”

The tension in the room shot through the roof. Great. Two large males with tons of testosterone in one small space was a formula for disaster.

Thank heaven Dacian had to leave before violence became an issue. With a surly nod toward Edge and a heated stare for her, he banged out of the greenhouse.

Too bad she’d been adjusting her sleeping schedule to Dacian’s waking hours, because now she’d have to sleep while Edge hovered. Maybe a little small talk would put her more at ease. “If you were up all night, how will you stay awake to guard the greenhouse?”

His smile would make most women forget what he was. Not her. Strange, though, that she didn’t have any trouble putting Dacian’s fangs on the back burner.

“I had a good night. The right people died. I’m running on adrenaline right now. But Bain will take over later in the morning and I’ll rest. Other than vampires, most nonhumans don’t need much downtime.”

So much for small talk. She didn’t want a blow-by-blow description of how the right people had died. Cinn faked a yawn. “Well, I’m still human, so I’ll say good night.” Without meeting his gaze, she stuck a pair of earplugs in her ears so noise wouldn’t wake her, stretched out on the cot, and pulled the covers up to her chin.

And somewhere during her rerun of the fantasy, she fell asleep.

If it weren’t for the snow, Cinn would’ve been bored to death. She’d risen in the afternoon to find Bain peering at her plants. That was better than him peering at her.

Outside it was snowing. Hard. So hard she couldn’t see a foot in front of her when she peeked outside. Even though she wasn’t from the area, she knew snow was rare in Galveston. Not only was the white stuff sticking, but at least six inches had already accumulated and it was getting deeper by the minute. Weird. The weather report had predicted forty-five degrees and cloudy. Not cold enough to snow.

She felt grimy, but she figured she’d wait until Dacian woke up. Then he could go to her room with her while she took a shower and got clean clothes.

Coffee couldn’t wait, though. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’ll just slip into the kitchen and—”

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Bain turned to look at her. “Ganymede dropped in a little while ago to see how things were going. On the way through the kitchen he hopped onto a counter and stole a pork chop. Chef Phil got all bent out of shape. Guess he was worried about the Board of Health or something.” Bain seemed to reconsider. “No, I guess it’s just because Chef Phil is a cranky shithead.”

Cinn didn’t see what that had to do with her, so she headed for the door.

“Anyway, Chef Phil chased Ganymede in here. He was so pissed off he didn’t even stop to put down the bowl of meatballs he was holding. He followed Ganymede all the way down to where your supersized Venus flytrap is.”

Uh-oh.

Bain grinned. “That plant just dipped down and
scooped those meatballs right out of the bowl. Scared the crap out of Chef Phil. In between the running and the screaming and the cursing, I think I heard the chef say he quit. So I don’t think you’ll find a bunch of happy people inside the kitchen right now.”

Cinn wasn’t sure what to say about that. “Oh, God, I’ll have to apologize to everyone for Carla.”

“I think the chef already left the building, but I’m sure there’re plenty of other people who’d like to see you do a little groveling.”

“Thanks for your support.” She didn’t try to tone down the acid content of her comment. “I guess no one thought about warning the chef to stay away from the weed warriors.”

He looked puzzled. “Why would I warn him when he was so much fun to watch? Broke up the monotony.”

She wanted to pound on his gorgeous head. “Don’t you have any sense of right and wrong?”

“Sure.” He grinned. “Wrong is usually a lot more fun.”

With a hiss of frustration, she left the greenhouse and strode into the kitchen. This was about the only time she felt safe without a guard tagging along. During restaurant hours there were always people around. Airmid would keep her distance.