by R. M. Sotera
She waited. It took every ounce of willpower not to grab him by the hair and hold his head between her legs until his tongue obliged.
The words danced through her head like a seductive tango. Please lick me there.
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Chapter Six
Mia’s eyes opened before the alarm chimed at seven o’clock, to Jordan sitting on the edge of the bed, already showered and dressed in faded blue jeans and a tattered Maroon 5 T-shirt.
“Morning.” His voice was crisp and clipped. “If you would like some coffee while you’re getting ready, there is a pot over there.” He pointed toward the small, round table near the bathroom door.
She glanced at the silver coffeepot, then back at him. “Thanks.
How did you sleep?”
He turned away with a grimace on his face, making her contemplate his cool demeanor. What happened to the man who had taken her in his arms and kissed every inch of her body the night before? Was he upset with her? What made him devoid of all emotion? The fake Jordan seated beside her was ripping her apart inside. She fought back the urge to vomit and burst into tears.
Abruptly, he moved from the bed to the window. “I slept fine.
Cindi will be waiting for you downstairs in the foyer in an hour. The bathroom is stocked with towels and whatever else you may need to get ready.”
Why was he acting so strange? The nausea in the pit of her stomach lurched a little farther up. This was the kiss-off scene.
Jordan stirred the sheer purple curtain covering the window with his finger and glanced outside. “The Elder appears to be gone. Looks like you’ll be able to leave without incident.” Finally, he looked at Mia for the second time since she awoke. “Is there anything else you might need before I leave?”
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How about treating me as if I’m not some total stranger? What did I do to you in the past six hours that’s caused you to be such an ass? Anger replaced the hurt feeling that was eating at her stomach.
He was the player that she pegged him. How stupid to think what had happened last night was nothing more than a game for him.
She slid off the bed. “No. I’m fine.” In all honesty it was a game for her, too. So why did she feel hurt by his actions?
Crossing his arms, he turned and faced her. The stoic look was still glued to his face. “I guess this is good-bye, then.” What the hell? Jordan appeared ready to walk out of her life forever. Well, at least I have my memories of spending the night with him, and they were good. No, they were awesome.
Mia made her way toward the coffeepot, and, with unsteady hands, she poured a cup. She wanted to lunge across the room and throw herself into his arms. He had touched an emotional side of her that she didn’t know existed, until last night. The boulder lodged in her throat made it next to impossible to stop her urge to cry. Contain yourself.
Cupping the hot coffee mug, she reasoned with herself to calm down. He doesn’t deserve to know how I feel.
Her internal battle escalated, and before she could stop it, the steaming cup of coffee crashed to the floor, its contents a puddle underneath her feet. Not the slightest bit phased by her actions, she spun around and blurted, “I really enjoyed last night.”
* * * *
Damn it!
How could Jordan walk away now? He marveled at how fear didn’t stop her from admitting how she felt about him, how she spoke freely about her enjoyment of their time together, her admittance leveling him where he stood. Truth be told, he wanted to kiss every inch of her beautiful, slightly pouted lips and then throw her on the
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bed and lick her pussy until she screamed out from the desire ripping through her sweet Catholic ass, but he couldn’t, at least not yet. It also occurred to him he should turn around and send her into hysterics, tell her she was only one of his casual playthings. In all honesty, that would be the best thing he could do for her, to save her from himself.
But she wasn’t a plaything. No, she was much more.
But before he could say anything, she added, “I even enjoyed it with the pain and stuff.” Even her guarded smile sent his cock jutting against his jeans.
With her smile warming his heart, his face softened. Exiting now would be impossible after looking into those big brown eyes. She glanced at the floor and her long brown locks grazed her shoulders.
He wanted to smooth his fingers through her mane. So instead of leaving, he took her small waist into his hands. “I delighted in you more than you can ever imagine.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Mia. Although I want you to stay, you can’t. I want nothing more than to lock you in this room with me, make love to every inch of you. But I can’t. Trust me, getting close to me will only hurt you.” The words left his mouth before he could reel them back. The truth hit him square in the face. Getting close to him might hurt her.
But the realization made no difference to him. He wanted her. My sweet virgin. The time has come for you to come out and play.
Right or wrong, he would have her.
Her innocent gaze rolled over him, making him clench back the desire to throw her over his shoulder and tuck her back into his bed.
She touched his arm. Her warm hands sent shards of heated need through his body.
“I’m probably not your type, either. Right?” Jordan was well aware of the storm brewing inside him, one that was fierce and would soon spiral out of his control. Two days ago, he was content with the flavor of the month or the slut of the night. How could he deny himself Mia now that he glimpsed paradise in her 92
touch? She had no idea the lengths he would go to just to be with her, but soon she’d understand.
“What do you think my type is, Mia?”
Carefully, she seemed to choose her words. “Tall, blonde, beautiful.”
He smirked. “You’re being extremely kind with that assessment.
People who know me believe my type to be any woman with a pulse.”
“It sounds like your reputation precedes you,” she responded in a much lighter tone.
She’d just started biting her lip when Jordan stepped forward until her body was pinned securely between him and the door. “I don’t deserve a woman like you.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story, Mia. Let’s just say that so far in my lifetime, I haven’t been the best human being.”
He recognized compassion on her face and a little caution, or perhaps fear. “We all have skeletons in our closets,” she rebutted.
Breathing in, he let her scent take him. The sweet smell of coconut lifted from her hair and embraced him. Moving her to arm’s length, he kept hold of her. She had no clue to what extent his skeletons reached. He may not hurt her intentionally, but someday, somehow, if his previous behaviors were any indication, he would cause her pain. Past sins could be buried, but they never truly disappeared, at least not from his recollection. “Baby, my skeletons have a mind of their own.”
A sullen look crossed her face. Her dark eyes regarded him with disbelief. “Everyone can be redeemed.”
“Perhaps.”
She frowned. “You don’t believe in second chances?”
“Not really.”
Before she could reply, he kissed her forehead and slipped out the door.
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One hour later, with all her belongings, Mia descended the spiral staircase. She stepped off the last rise just in time to catch Cindi cussing under her breath. “Mia, are you okay?” Obviously concerned with her best friend’s saddened demeanor, Cindi planted a bear hug on Mia, practically knocking the wind out of her.
“What’s wrong? I mean besides last night’s escapade.” Cindi studied her expression. “Did he hurt you? I will march back up those stairs and castrate him with my blade if he did anything that harmed you.”
Blade? “I’m fine. Let’s just get out of here.”
“I can do that.”
Walking out the front door, neither one looked back, only shut the door softly behind them
.
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Chapter Seven
Monday morning, when the alarm blared with Toya singing “I Do,” Mia pried herself from the mattress, looking forward to her classes. After the confusion of the weekend, work would be a refreshing relief. Or so she thought.
Easing into the school parking lot, a different dilemma had surfaced. Her boss Jamison Rierson waited for her beside her parking space. Confronting him was inevitable since he looked both perplexed and nervous.
With his expression seeming urgent, Jamison practically accosted her when the car door closed behind her. “I need to talk to you. I feel so bad about what happened between us. I need to explain myself to you.” His voice was matter-of-fact, while his gaze searched her face.
Mia’s head still whirled from the events at Stiletto House, and the last thing she wanted to deal with was Jamison. However, she felt it best she humor him. “I’m listening.” She leaned back against the car door. Our disaster date was long ago. Our shared kiss days ago. Must we rehash?
“Mia, the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you.” His voice came across distant, and his gaze moved past her, toward something over her shoulder, then fixed back on her eyes. “I am sorry. Please believe me. I mean it. Hurting you was never my goal.” Without warning, her stomach fluttered, as if thousands of butterflies let loose inside her body. I need to forget you.
“I want you to understand that although I do not feel for you in a romantic way, I still want to be friends. I know our date was a disaster, and I’m truly sorry about that. Please, forgive me if I led you
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to believe any differently. It was never my intention.” His gaze left hers and flittered everywhere but on her.
Why couldn’t he look at her? Once again, what Jamison verbally relayed was quite different from what his body movements portrayed.
Even after her unforgettable night with Jordan, Jamison still had some kind of bizarre effect on her. Part of her, and she wasn’t sure how big of a part, still found him attractive. Deciding he probably would not give up on the “friend” scenario, she agreed friendship would be fine and allowed him to escort her down the hall to her classroom.
The day flew by, and before she knew it, she was driving home.
She glanced at the bouquet of stargazer lilies Cindi sent from New Orleans, strapped securely into the passenger seat. Her best friend was a powerhouse. She’d dropped Mia off at home Sunday morning, and headed straight for the airport, arriving in New Orleans that evening.
Mia would call her as soon as she settled in for the night. Pulling into her complex, a black line of thunderstorms had rolled in off the ocean, darkening the sky. The distant warning of thunder rumbled. It’s going to be a cozy night tonight.
After phoning Cindi, she settled in for her nightly ritual, but tonight before she got down to the tedious business of grading high-school papers, her gaze transfixed on the storm outside. Rain clouds attacked the raven-and-violet-silver Florida sky on their way out toward the gulf.
The stack of her students’ quizzes from the day lay nearby. Well, work before pleasure. Halfway through grading, the phone rang, and she quickly snatched the receiver.
“Hello!” She hoped and prayed Cindi was on the other end.
Silence. She waited. More silence followed.
Just as she was about to click the receiver, someone said, “Hey.” Faint breathing tickled her ear. “You have turned my world upside down, woman. I woke up this morning with the taste of you traveling through my pores. I need to see you again.” 96
She lost her ability to speak. Jordan was on the phone, and she couldn’t even whimper.
“I can’t get you out of my mind, Mia. I want you.” She tried to form sounds. None came.
“Say something.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps I have the wrong number. Sorry I disturbed you, darlin’.”
“Jordan! Please, wait.” In all her excitement, she jumped up from the recliner, clipping the glass of red wine on the floor next to the chair with her foot. As expected, a nice burgundy color canvassed the small Oriental rug under toe, and she couldn’t have cared less.
“Well, well, I was starting to think no one was on the other end.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I was shocked to hear your voice.” Her frantic demeanor came to a slow halt. “Jordan?”
“Yes.”
“I–I,” she whispered, as her voice cracked then disappeared into her throat.
“You what, Mia?”
“I can’t seem to get you out of my mind, either.” I said it. Without warning, motor-mouth syndrome stepped in to hold her hand. “I can’t begin to understand what happened between us, or why you think you’re a vampire. But I do know that I really like you, and I want to see you again.” She waited a brief second and then added, “I am willing to try and understand all this vampire stuff.” He chuckled, his laughter numbing. “I need to see you, too.”
“Why don’t you come to my apartment?” The words that left her mouth shocked the hell out of her. Hoochie woman was taking over!
Though, at the rate she was going, nothing appeared to be off limits anymore.
“Really?”
The raw sensuality of his voice froze her in place, but only for a brief second. “Yes. Unless you are in the middle of something. It is getting late and—”
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“I’m coming to see you now. Give me the directions, and I will be there to ravish you shortly.”
One hour had passed since Mia invited her blood-sucking, potential boyfriend to her apartment. The entire time she waited for his arrival, she paced back and forth across her living-room floor, trying to settle her frenzied nerves, occasionally glancing at the clock on the VCR. The blue numbers read 10:00 p.m. Where is he?
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Overzealous, she bolted toward the door and swung it open, only to become the ugly duckling in the room. How did he always look so damn good? Even in his faded jeans and T-shirt, he looked like a dream. And his hair, those blond locks made her want to do more than just run a comb through them.
“Hi, princess.” He reached out and pulled her against him.
“Hi,” she managed to squeak.
They remained in the doorway, entangled in each other’s arms, as she prayed to the Virgin Mary and all the saints she didn’t faint from the sheer intensity of his presence.
“Well, don’t you look yummy tonight.” He growled. “Are you going to invite me in? Or make me stand out here all night?” Graciously, she stepped to the side, and motioned for him to enter.
Gain some composure. I’m acting like a starstruck teenager.
But, he didn’t enter, only stood staring at her. “Remember, sweet thing, I can’t enter unless you invite me in.” When the vampire pun registered, she smirked, thinking about how stupid she must look at this moment. “Oh—vampire humor.
Aren’t you funny.”
“I try to be. Nice place you have here.” He walked inside and over to the couch. She’d closed the door and turned just in time to get a nice view of his butt before he slid onto the sofa.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” she asked.
“Sounds good.”
“Would you prefer red or white?”
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He let his eyes rove her body, his admiration practically gluing her feet where she stood. “Red is a definite for me. Unless you have something more pungent and metallic tasting.”
“Ha. Ha. I guess that’s your vamp humor again.”
“Yeah, it is. I figure a little bit of humor makes my odd lifestyle seem a tad bit funnier than strange.” Leaning back against the sofa, he spread his legs just enough for her to admire his other jewels, the ones she confused with his earrings on their last visit. Determined not to be bated by him again, she walked into the kitchen.
“Hurry back. I’m getting lonely in here,” his voice echoed from the living room.
Hold your horses.
Five minutes later, she set the
wine on the coffee table in front of him and took a seat next to him.
“No, I don’t believe this will work.” He shot his arm out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her snug against his thigh.
“Much better.”
Mia’s heart hammered against her chest cavity. “Sexy” didn’t begin to describe him. She cracked a nervous smile. “Okay.”
“Let’s talk, sweet thing.”
Nodding, Mia gave her undivided attention.
At a loss for words, they sat for a moment in awkward silence. He leaned in, his breath stealing the air between them. Mia anticipated a lip-locking kiss, and, if that were the case, she would never learn anything about him tonight. No, no. I need to find out more about him.
Words escaped from her, finally. “Tell me about your family?” Jordan chuckled, obviously in response to her nervous stupor. “If you insist. I was born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. My father is a defense attorney, and my mother is a music teacher. She teaches piano.”
“Do you play?” With genuine interest, she waited for his reply. At that moment in time, the way the light from the small lamp on the
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mahogany coffee table beside them caught the black streak in his hair handsome did not begin to describe him. God, you’re beautiful.
“Play piano?” He licked his top lip, sending her hormones dancing a seductive salsa. The things she could imagine those lips doing to her sent a flush of heat coursing through her body.
“Yes.”
She gazed down toward his fingers to see if they were long and thin, a good indication a person was a pianist.
“I dabble with the piano sometimes. Mostly I play my acoustic guitar.”
“Are you any good?”
He hesitated before he answered in a naughty Southern drawl.
“Mia, darlin’, haven’t you learned by now that I’m good at everything I do.”