Billionaires and Bodybags

by Keira Blackwood

  “Marla,” I said, half question, half command.

  “I don’t have any appointments,” she said, sliding down my body and locking the door. She turned around the “open” sign and turned to face me. “My bed’s upstairs.”

  “Lead the way.”

  She moved faster than a human, which was perfect, because I was quick, too. I followed her through a side door and up a narrow set of stairs.

  “There’s an apartment up here?” I asked. Thinking about the floor plan of her tattoo parlor, it would leave enough space for a large apartment, or even several smaller ones.

  “Yeah, more than one because there are three floors. It was a huge selling point. I can roll out of bed and get straight to work.”

  When we reached the landing, I couldn’t keep my hands to myself anymore. I gripped her hips, pushed her against the wall. It was just like being in the alley again, and I brought her arms over her head while I kissed her.

  She let out a needy moan and I leaned forward. The feeling of my dick pressed against her stomach was both torture and release. It felt good, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

  “That’s your door?” I asked, jerking my chin to the nearest entryway.

  “Yeah.” She led me there and unlocked the door.

  Invitation enough for me. I opened it, then allowed her to tug me inside by my wrist. She slammed the door behind us, locked it, and then lifted her shirt over her head.

  Her breasts were covered in a red, lacy contraption that made all the blood in my body move to my cock.

  Her phone rested in her cleavage, tucked into her bra, and she tossed it to the side before facing me again.

  “You’re beautiful,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Show me more.”

  A playful smile spread across her face and she gestured first at her tits, then at her waistline. “Which should I take off first? Bra or jeans?”

  “Fuck, woman, I don’t care. Just get naked.”

  “Choose one.”

  “Jeans,” I growled.

  She toed off her shoes and shimmied out of her jeans. Her panties were red like her bra and I growled in appreciation.

  “Your turn,” she said.

  I unbuttoned my shirt. I thought of ripping it, but I didn’t have a change of clothes here, and besides, I liked the way her pupils seemed to get darker and bigger with each button that came undone. She moved forward when I was done and slid the shirt from my shoulders. It fell to the floor and she grabbed my cock, palming it through my trousers.

  “It’s been a long time,” she whispered. “You might need to go slow with me at first.”

  “However you want it, Marla,” I said, cupping her cheek before dipping my face toward hers for another kiss. While my mouth worshipped hers, I removed her bra and slid her panties over her hips until they fell to the floor. She was naked for me. Sensual. Divine.

  She made quick work of my belt and the fastening on my pants, then they and my boxers were down around my ankles. I impatiently kicked off my shoes and socks, freeing myself.

  “Sit on the edge of the bed,” I said. “I want to make sure you’re ready for me.”

  Eyes wide, she did as I asked. I knelt in front of her, hooked her knees over my shoulders. Her pussy glistened with arousal. She was probably wet enough to take me, but I was eager to taste her, regardless. I lowered my mouth to her and licked.

  “Grayson,” she breathed.

  Holding her thighs in place, I licked and sucked her, swirling my tongue through her folds, fucking into her pussy with it, then circling her clit. I figured out what she liked most based on her gasps, moans, and the way she gripped my hair in her fists. She writhed as much as she could despite my tight grip on her legs.

  “Please,” she begged.

  “I’ve got you,” I murmured against her thigh, before returning to her clit and licking circles over it. I released one of her legs so I could bring my hand down. Her pussy accepted my thick finger without any resistance, so I added a second one.

  “Yes,” she gasped, lifting her hips and pulsing around my fingers, her body shaking and rigid. She was coming on my hand and mouth and I kept licking and thrusting, pleased.

  Her aftershocks hadn’t even faded and she was already grabbing my shoulders, dragging me up her body.

  “Condom?” I asked, unsure.

  “Vampires can’t get pregnant,” Marla said with a smile.

  I wondered if that fact bothered her, but that was a discussion for another time. Being with her like this, my heart glowing with love, I knew one thing for sure: this woman was my mate. If that meant kids—adopted or through a miracle pregnancy—or no kids, it made no difference to me. I was in this with Marla for forever if she’d have me.

  She hooked one of her legs around my waist, pulling me toward her. I fit the head of my cock against her opening and her eyelids fluttered shut.

  “It’s going to be tight,” she said.

  “I’ll go as slow as you want.”

  I rocked into her in short thrusts, pulling out at the slightest hint of pain on her face, slowly coating my cock in her arousal. Sweat collected on my forehead from the effort of not slamming into her. Easy. Easy. I followed her lead.

  After a few more short strokes, she said, “Grayson, I’m ready. Take me. Hard, fast, however you want.”

  I plunged fully inside of her, all the way to my base. Hovering over her body, my weight on my arms, I gazed into her eyes.

  “You’re so beautiful, so lovely.” I kissed her, over and over again, while stroking slowly in and out of her tight pussy.

  It didn’t take long before I was breathing hard, and Marla was moaning as I built her up to the peak again. This time, I was alongside her. I kissed her, threaded my fingers with hers, and we jumped off the peak together, pleasure exploding all around us as we fell.

  9

  Marla

  Everything was sore. Eyes still shut, I stretched my arms and legs, finding my bed blissfully and uncharacteristically warm. Feeling the heat of the body beside me was like waking up in my first life, where the entire world didn’t feel cold any time I wasn’t eating or baking myself in the sunlight. Except I’d never let a man stay over with me before.

  Sex was a different animal. It was a need that could be filled, like eating or sleeping. After it was over, both parties returned to their own lives without obligation or complication.

  This, right here, was what I considered a complication. Even Grayson’s limbs were entangled in mine. I’d let him sleep over this morning. Yep—even after finding out that letting him get close was likely to kill him, I’d let him stay. Stupid.

  Not only that, he’d told me he loved me, and if he hadn’t stopped me, I might have even said it back. I wasn’t sure how I felt, though. There was something strong between us, a connection unlike anything I’d ever felt before. But was it love?

  It very well could be.

  I should have been stronger and sent him away for his own good. Still, feeling the weight of his arm over my stomach, the beating of his heart against my cheek, and his slow deep breaths on my shoulder, I knew I was selfish, because I only partially regretted it.

  Having him close made me feel safe. He made me feel more than safe, made me feel like there could be a future between us. It would be a sexy, sexy future, full of nights tumbling in the sheets, ravishing each other like bunnies in heat.

  Or I’d get him killed.

  “You’re awake,” he said, startling me.

  “Looks like you are, too,” I said. “Did you sleep?”

  He pulled his arm under him, propping his head up. “A little.”

  As I stared at his full lips, memories of the way they’d felt on my clit filled my head. His hard, naked body was still pressed to mine, and his cock stirred against my thigh. If I didn’t kick him out now, we wouldn’t ever leave the bed.

  “It’s daylight,” I told him. “You should go.”

  He ran his fingers along my arm, sending a shiver down my spin
e.

  “I can’t leave when you’re holding me here,” he said.

  I guessed that was true. It was my leg wrapped over his. With regret, I pulled away. “This was fun, but we can’t do it again.”

  He grabbed my wrist as I dropped my feet off the side of the bed.

  “This was more than fun,” he said, flashing those beautiful gray eyes at me.

  The last thing I wanted to do was push him away, which was why I had to.

  “It was a mistake to let you through the door,” I said. “After what Kelly said, I should have—”

  “No.” Grayson slid to the edge of the bed beside me, exposed in all of his beautiful naked glory. “There was no mistake.”

  I forced myself to look up from his nakedness to his face. Truth time. “It’s best if we end this now. If I don’t let you get close, maybe you don’t die.”

  If I didn’t let myself love him, I could save him. The knot forming in my stomach confirmed it was both the right and wrong way to look at the situation.

  He ran a finger over my chin. It was such a gentle touch. “We’re already close,” he said softly. “You can’t wish me away or pretend our bond isn’t real. We’re mates, Marla. I’m certain.”

  I shook my head. “Mates are forever.”

  “We get whatever time we get,” he said, and captured my lips.

  It was a sweet kiss, a promise. He would be at my side no matter what, because he loved me. It was too late to stop it from happening. Feelings were already here. When he pulled back, he gave me a smile. Then he put on his clothes. I watched, in awe of how he didn’t seem to care that being with me was his death sentence. I could push, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Well, he wasn’t going anywhere in our relationship. He seemed to be cool with heading out at the moment.

  “I’ll be back at sunset,” he said. “And we’ll face whatever comes together.”

  He wasn’t offering. He was stating his commitment as fact. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with his proclamation. So I got dressed, too, putting on a knee-length skirt and a sweater, and followed him downstairs. He kissed me one last time, quick and hard, and then he walked out the door.

  Cold air gusted into the shop, along with His Lordship. Grayson spun on his heel as my cat knocked between his legs. Lifting and pointing two fingers, Grayson did an I’m-watching-you gesture to His Lordship, because apparently Grayson was still pissed about the missing credit card thing. I maintained a cat could not be held responsible for his thievery, and I was pretty sure that was one thing we’d never agree on.

  His Lordship purred against my legs. I reached down and gave him a pet. “I know, you’re ready for your doughnut, but I can’t do it every day. You’ll just have to settle for the canned chicken I put in your dish.”

  He stuck his nose in the air and hissed.

  “I know, buddy. Sometimes life isn’t fair. I’ll get you another doughnut sometime soon."

  There was a bang out front. I looked up at the picture window just in time to see a metal trash can fall to the ground. It must have hit the glass, although thankfully didn’t crack it. I threw open the door, ready to yell.

  Grayson was standing beside the crushed can, arm up in defense, while someone in a black hoodie threw a flurry of fists at him.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled.

  “Like hell, skulker.” The attacker’s voice was female. And familiar?

  “Hey,” I said. “Break it up.”

  Grayson’s attacker tried a high kick, but he dodged and her leg hit the wall. I caught a glimpse of bright lipstick and red hair. It wasn’t the kind of red that came naturally, or a shade I’d seen on anyone else.

  “Kelly?” I grabbed her shoulder.

  Quick as a cat, she snapped her head toward me. She pulled her hood back, and her expression transformed from one of ferocity to one of joy.

  “Marla.” She gave me a toothy grin. “Let’s kick this wanker’s arse together!”

  “What is wrong with you?” Grayson asked Kelly, brushing off the dirt on his suit jacket.

  “Not even going to try to run?” Kelly put her hands on her hips and sized him up. Her British accent was stronger when she was riled up, and her words were clipped. “Shifter. Skulker. This bounty hunter’s rather pathetic, Marla. He doesn’t really fight back.”

  “I told you I’m not skulking,” Grayson said.

  “Doubtful,” Kelly shook her head. “Just what a skulker would say.”

  I put a hand up between them. “First, Grayson’s cool. He’s not a bounty hunter—he’s with me.”

  Kelly furrowed her brows.

  “Second, I cannot believe you’re actually here.” I pulled my vampire sister into a huge hug, crushing her with the relief I felt to actually see her alive and well. Well, undead and well.

  “It’s not me you ought to be worried about,” she said. “But it is absolutely a delight to see you, too. I had no idea how much I would miss seeing your face until I was on my own.”

  Grayson looked between the two of us, his expression unreadable.

  “We were in the dungeon together,” I told him.

  He nodded, understanding. Still, his nostrils flared in that overly protective shifter way.

  “Kelly’s the one who has been giving me the warnings about the Collector. She knows things. Clairvoyant Kelly, this is Grayson Tatum.”

  The two shook with a stiff awkwardness between them. It made sense, given she had just been throwing accusations at him, and her fists, and trash.

  “This is your place?” Kelly asked, scooting in next to me and putting her back to Grayson.

  “Yep,” I said.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked over to where his car was parked, then back at me.

  “Let’s all three go in,” I said.

  Kelly laughed, and put her arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure we have the situation under control.”

  Aubrey, Kelly and I had been protective of each other since day one in the Collector’s dungeon. When there are a bunch of creepy creepers in a cage with you, and worse, they have superpowers, well, you bond fast and hard with your allies.

  It wasn’t just the protective vampire sister thing going on here, though. Kelly was being especially harsh to Grayson, probably because she hated shifters. Her emotional scars had to do with her ex, Xavier, but I didn’t know much more than that.

  “Grayson’s with me,” I said again, more firmly.

  Kelly’s eyes said it all—a man close to you will die. But I’d tried to push him away, and all that made him do was hold me closer. And I wanted that. We’d just have to protect each other, and I’d watch out for him even more fiercely than I otherwise would have.

  I reached a hand for him, ignoring Kelly’s looks and warnings. And I repeated what he’d said to me a little earlier. “We’ll face whatever comes together.”

  Kelly rolled her eyes and pulled her arm from me. “This—” She gestured between Grayson and me. “I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?”

  I grinned at her, and we went inside.

  Kelly took in the room, paying special attention to the red-framed photos on the walls of happy clients and their ink. “Love the vibe.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Freeze.” She ran back across the room in front of Grayson. “Don’t move.”

  “What?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

  She pushed him out of the way and grabbed His Lordship from the desk. She snuggled the giant puffball of a cat. “This—it can’t be. Is it—”

  “Yep,” I said.

  “Our hero in furry awesomeness. I could kiss you,” she said to His Lordship, and then her expression soured. “If you didn’t smell so bad.”

  She set him down, and I caught Grayson suppressing a grin.

  “His Lordship saved us,” I told him. “He slipped the key under our door and set us free from our prison.”

  “Sometimes his thievery works out,” Grayson said. “It did bri
ng me to you.”

  Kelly made a gagging sound. “Gross. And excuse me, His Lordship?”

  “His Lordship King Snugglebumpkins,” I said.

  Kelly bent down and looked him in his scarred eye. “I can see it.”

  Grayson shook his head. “It’s...great that you found Marla,” he said. “Now you can explain the vague prophecies, let us know what we’re up against.”

  “Prophecies,” Kelly snorted. “No. I see the future.”

  Grayson was right that we needed to put business before celebrating our reunion.

  “Do you know who is coming for us?” I asked.

  “Animation Andy.”

  I felt like a ghost, like all the blood drained from my face.

  “Is that supposed to mean something?” Grayson asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, needing a moment.

  “The only thing worse than a vampire male is a shifter one,” Kelly said under her breath, clearly loud enough for Grayson to hear. She lifted her hand and checked her nails, like she was bored by his questions.

  This attitude about Grayson was getting old fast.

  “Andy was in the dungeon with us,” I said. “Just like my special skill is manipulation, and Kelly’s is clairvoyance, Andy got a special skill when he was turned.”

  “Animation,” Grayson said. “Please tell me he turns drawings into movies.”

  “Maybe he could,” I said.

  “Might be as horrifying as the other thing he does,” Kelly said.

  “Tell me he doesn’t make dead people move,” Grayson said.

  “Like Weekend at Bernie’s, but he doesn’t hold them up when he makes them wave,” I said.

  “Or bite. Or tear apart your flesh,” Kelly added.

  “Thanks for the visual,” Grayson said in a flat tone.

  “That’s where my idea comes in,” Kelly said. “We know he loves corpses.”

  “If it’s more than animating them,” Grayson said. “I don’t want to know.”

  “Eating them,” Kelly said, clearly relishing the way Grayson’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed as she added details.

  “He won’t feed on the living,” I said. This was a good thing. Andy being here instead of one of the others meant that the people of Forbidden were safe, as was Declan’s pack. He could kill them first, then wait a while, sure, but it wasn’t his style.