Real Vampires Have Curves (6 page)

“Valdez told me how that piece of crap you drive endangered you on your trip.” He tossed me the keys. “Drive.”

Damned furry snitch. And now Jerry was trying to hook me with a little drive. But I'm not stupid. I got in and started the engine. Oh, but it purred. “Keep me,” it whispered as I shifted into drive.

“Where to?” I pretended nonchalance as I pulled away from the curb. The cool night air lifted my hair and I felt like a princess in her coach-and-four. I waved to the peasants crowding the sidewalks as we breezed down Sixth Street as fast as the traffic allowed.

Blade gave me directions until we wove our way up to the top of Castle Hill and stopped in front of . . . yes, a castle. Talk about your stereotypes. The Gothic monstrosity perched on the summit with its stone turrets and massive wood door shouted, “Vampires live here. Keep out.”

“You've got to be kidding. Who lives here?”

“A friend with a sense of humor. He puts on a great Halloween party. Maybe we'll come back for it.”

“You're ruining the mood for me, Jerry, by assuming I'll do your bidding.” I might as well speak my mind since he could read every thought anyway.

“Sorry.” He leaned over and kissed me again, a long, lingering, tongue tangling symphony of a kiss that had me humming along.

Again. I'm not stupid. I was not going to keep the car. Or go to Lake Charles. But I
was
going to satisfy this itch that Blade, for centuries, had known how to scratch just so. I followed him inside. Up a stone staircase that could have come straight from Castle Campbell except that this marble gleamed and, of all things, a bat chandelier hung above the landing.

“Bats?” I laughed as Blade tugged me into a bedroom and slammed the door. “What? No coffin?”

“That's in Damian's bedchamber.”

I fell onto the exquisitely soft, red-velvet coverlet. Blade grinned down at me. Oh I loved the way he looked when he wasn't angsting over all his responsibilities. This Blade was fun, playful as he fell on top of me. I ripped open the snaps on his shirt and ran my hands over his smooth chest and down his flat stomach. Always the same, always perfect. I could feel his need pressing against his jeans.

“Ride 'em, cowboy,” I whispered as I slid down his zipper.

“Not yet, lass.” He pushed his hand under my skirt.

"What the hell are you wearing?” He pulled up the fabric to look.

“Control panties. Not exactly a girdle, but—” He pressed a kiss on the heavy duty spandex just “there” and I wished the thing to hell and gone. It had been a struggle to get it on tonight, but it flattened my stomach and kept my butt from jiggling. How on earth was Blade going to work it off?

“Not to worry. And I like it when your butt jiggles.” A knife gleamed in his hand. Did I mention why he'd picked Blade as his surname? Knives, swords, daggers have always been his weapons of choice and he's damned good with them. Years later someone created a comic book character with the same name—a vampire hunter. Talk about irony.

Forget irony. Jerry slipped the tip of his stiletto under the elastic above my navel. I gasped, then forgot to breathe as he slowly cut the spandex. It parted like butter until, yes, hello, he was right where he'd kissed me just moments ago.

My poor strangled tummy thanked him. But the cool steel of that knife so perilously close to my most private parts . . . Call me freaky, but I shivered with a perverse need to have him keep going. He looked up, his heated gaze leaving no doubt that he'd go as far as I wanted him to.

Did I stop him? Are you kidding? I opened my thighs and held my breath. And he kept going, the cold steel skimming across me, lower, lower until I grabbed his hair and made him look at me.

“You wouldn't.”

“Wouldn't I? Anything for your pleasure, lass.” But he tossed the knife aside and bent his head to trace me with his tongue and—hoo, boy—his fangs. Oh, God, but he had a way with his fangs. Heat, need and the satisfaction that I'd always felt only with Jeremiah Campbell sliced through me, sharp as that knife he'd used moments ago. I wanted him naked. And deep inside me.

Of course he heard my “Do me, baby” thoughts. His clothes vanished along with mine before he pulled me on top of him and drew my lips to his neck. I pressed my fangs into his tender skin and warm blood flooded my mouth just as hot satisfaction flooded my thighs. I couldn't think, but Jeremiah could, his voice whispering inside my head.

He moved under me, hard and fast, his hands on my ass, urging me to keep pace. No problem. But I was coming apart, bit by bit. I shivered and called his name in my mind since I couldn't bear to release him and his delicious taste. Finally I licked his neck and threw back my head, wild as he reached between us to touch me.

“God, Jeremiah!” I leaned forward until he sucked one of my nipples into his warm mouth, the pressure making me clench around him. Oh, yes. He rolled us until he was on top. I opened my eyes and saw him there, so strong, the muscles in his arms taut as he held himself above me. But he was pale. He'd let me feed from him and he'd been hurt just days ago.

“Jeremiah.” I pulled his head to my neck, shuddering with pleasure as he took me. If I live to be a thousand, I'm sure I'll never feel a pleasure greater than Jeremiah Campbell, hard inside me, drawing on my life force. I felt an answering pull deep inside. Powerful, seemingly insatiable. No wonder I held on to him with both hands. He took me and I took him until I was wracked with pleasure, dying and yet being reborn, again and again. Finally, I shattered. Complete. His.

Four

"I am not yours.” Okay, so maybe I was a little late with that declaration.

“Of course not. You are your own woman. Damnably independent.
I
get
that.
” He lay against the pillows and watched me as I crawled out of bed and attempted to pull together my outfit.

Damnably independent. Yep. But I couldn't get too excited about making that point when my knees were still weak and I couldn't look at him or I'd be right back in that bed for another round.

Get dressed.
Right. Forget the panties. They went in the trash and I was glad to see those modern day iron maidens go. At some point he'd cut my bra apart too and that bugged me. Black lace double
D
bras aren't cheap.

I was surprisingly at ease prancing around naked in front of Jerry. Hey, he'd seen me in the buff more times than either of us could count and if my figure flaws hadn't sent him away screaming before, they sure wouldn't now.

“You're beautiful, Gloriana. I wish you'd realize that.”

I pulled on my blouse, but left it gaping open as I faced him. Yeah, he did look like he was enjoying the view. I picked up my skirt and twirled it around my finger.

“I realize that you want me to obey you. Drive that sexmobile to Lake Charles with you and lock myself inside your casino. But it's not going to happen.” There. Could I make it any clearer?

He sat up and snatched the skirt out of my hand. “You are the most difficult woman I've ever known.”

“Hmm. I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Then mayhap ye'll come back to bed, lass.” He grinned when I let my blouse slip off my shoulders and fall to the floor.

“Mayhap.” I sauntered toward him, well aware of how my breasts quivered and my nipples said, “Taste me.” He definitely wanted me again and, boy, was that a power trip. “I've always had a weakness for lusty Scots.”

“First turn around and walk away. I want to see this butt jiggling you're so fashed about.”

“Make me.” I put my hands on my hips. He was beside me in a flash. Some vamps can do that, move at warp speed. Another vamp trick I'd never learned. He walked around me, then dropped to his knees.

“Aye, I'll make ye, lass. Make ye scream for me.” He kneaded my buttocks.

“Will not.” I gasped as he slid a finger inside me.

“Such a fine generous arse ye've got here. Soft.” He stroked me with his tongue. “Tasty.”

Generous indeed! But Jerry truly didn't care. He pressed his thumb between my thighs until I had to bite my lip.

“Did I hear ye moan then, lass?”

“No! I won't scream for you either, Jerry.” I turned and pushed my fingers through his hair, soft with just a bit of curl in the dark strands. Strands that would never gray above a chiseled face that would never sag or wrinkle.

“Will ye no'?” He leaned against me and kissed my belly. “And if
I
scream for
you
?” He looked up, his eyes gleaming. “Will that please ye?”

“It might.” I pulled him to his feet and wrapped my arms around him, more pleased than I liked to admit. I'd never been to Louisiana. Maybe . . . No, he was obviously doing a vamp whammy on me. But I pressed my cheek to his cool bare chest anyway.

Uh-oh. We're supposed to be warm, though I figure we're well below a mortal's normal temp. His heart thumped in the slow steady way all vamps did near dawn. About half speed.

“Take care of yourself, Jerry. You're still healing. You should have stayed home.”

“I couldno'. You are my heart, lass. Come home with me.”

I believed him. That he truly cared for me. But something in me insisted I had to make my own way. I couldn't belong to anyone. Even someone as seductive and as damnably delicious as Jeremy Blade. Sometimes I hate myself, you know? But logic, which I was struggling to get a grip on, told me this sudden urge to keep me close had a lot to do with Jerry's losing Mac.

Hey, when a vamp actually dies, it shakes us up. And makes a vampire want to do something life affirming, like, pardon my bluntness, maybe screw your brains out.

I dragged Jerry back to bed and made love to him, pushing him back when he tried to take charge. No. This was my farewell party for two. I kissed a path down his chest to his stomach, smiling as his muscles clenched. Lusty indeed. I licked the moisture from the tip of his shaft then took him into my mouth. I cupped his balls, squeezing lightly until he moaned and slid his fingers into my hair.

“Witch. How can ye send me away from ye?”

Obviously I was way too busy to answer him. Besides, I was close to caving. Nope. Not caving. There was more to life than sex. Wasn't there?

By the time I finally sat up to guide him inside me, I knew Jerry wasn't about to deny me anything. So I told him, in my thoughts, that we just wouldn't work. He was who he was and he wasn't going to change. And I was who
I
was and I wasn't changing either. He needed a clinging female and I needed a man who appreciated my free spirit and independence.

But issues aside, we did have chemistry. And he knew all my hot spots, from my tingling toes to the small of my back and everywhere in between. I held him to my breasts and fought the tender feelings that made me want to do his bidding in all things.

“Ach, lass, I canna fight ye. Do as ye will.”
His voice inside my head probably meant I'd won this skirmish.

Do as I will? I kissed Jerry, our tongues tangling, his fangs dragging across my swollen lips until I pulled back. My mouth wandered over his battle-scarred terrain, every nook and cranny so achingly familiar. I licked away the salt from his sweat-slicked body and watched him shudder. Oh, yes, I knew what drove him over the edge. When I finally sat astride my conquest, I felt bloody amazing. Vamp power. Got to love it. But I couldn't stop thinking. This had to end. If only—

He jerked me to him and kissed away my thoughts until there was only taste, touch and the need to push toward satisfaction. I sat up and tossed my hair back. I rode him until we both collapsed, gasping, too replete to do more than lie in each other's arms, breathing in the sharp, sweet essence we had created between us.

Jerry whispered inside my head all the sweet things a man won't actually say to a woman. That he needed me, that I pleased him as no other woman could, that . . . wait a minute. Other woman? The hell with it. I'd had other men too, it was inevitable when we'd been apart so long. And I sure wasn't going to let a little, okay, a lot of jealousy spoil some of the best sex of my lifetime. So I whispered back, assuring him that he would always have a special place in my heart and, call me a slut, in my bed.

We lay for a long time, just holding each other, until the vamp awareness that dawn wasn't that far away made me move off of him. I kissed his lips, firm now with the displeasure he didn't bother to hide. Yep, I was disobeying my lord and master yet again. I hated that and the fact that he never seemed to learn how to handle me. Jerry was anything but a slow learner in all other aspects of his life. But with me . . .

I sniffled a little as I got dressed, but Jerry didn't try to stop me or offer false words of comfort. I'd insisted on this parting. So I could just deal with it. We were both quiet and I, for one, was sad that separation seemed to be our destiny.

We were heading down the stairs when the front door opened. Vampire. I glanced at Blade who still looked grim. He hates rejection. Not that I'd rejected
him,
just his plans for how I should live my life.

“Blade! Is this your Gloriana?” A smiling man strode up to us. A smiling, happy vampire. Handsome as the devil too, dressed in a black silk shirt open to the waist and slim black pants.

I glanced at Blade. He nodded, not bothering to smile. “Gloriana, this is Damian Sabatini. The owner of this castle.”

Damian took my hand and pulled it to his lips. He actually brushed it with a fang and I shivered. Whoa. In the vampire world this was considered a major pass. Did Damian have a death wish? But Blade was stone-faced. Of course he hadn't missed the intimacy
or
my reaction to it. Did I expect him to morph into a snarling jealous beast? He wouldn't. Not after I'd just declared my independence. Again.