Wicked After Dark: 20 Steamy Paranormal Tales of Dragons, Vampires, Werewolves, Shifters, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

by Mina Carter

  He looked down at my hand, then back at my face. “I can’t believe it.” His voice broke but he covered by coughing. “Your eyes look just the same.”

  “Daddy.” One of the little girls sashayed over in her fancy satin party dress and rhinestone encrusted sunglasses. She took his slack hand. “Mommy says we need to hurry or we’re going to be late.”

  “Alright, Zoe Bug. I’ll be right there.” He offered me his other hand. “Come on, Ty Boo. Come meet my family.”

  Tony introduced me as a good friend of Billy, addressing me as Avens. Then it was simply a matter of invoking Billy’s personal assistant’s name, and I was admitted into the building alongside them without any fuss.

  Once inside we made our way through the crowded lobby and into the main hall. It was a typical convention space large enough to hold the floats which were the centerpieces for the party, as well as tables and chairs for the five thousand guests from all over the country who were attending.

  There were purple, green and gold balloons and streamers everywhere in the official Mardi Gras colors. Each color represented a virtue, each of which I needed at the moment. Purple symbolized the justice that Apollyon was due for what he had done to me. Green invoked the faith that I needed to face the challenge ahead. Gold stood for the power to be the person I once was, but even stronger, taking hold of the kind of life I’d always wanted and doing whatever I had to do to keep it.

  Tony brought me along with his family to their reserved table up front near the stage. It seated ten, but after talking to one of the event staff they managed to squeeze in another seat. I sat between Tony and a man I didn’t know who appeared to be already drunk and kept trying to look down the front of my low cut dress.

  Before I could tell him to put his eyes somewhere else, the overhead lights went out, the stage lights came on and Billy Blade strutted out.

  I held my breath staring at him until my chest started to burn from lack of oxygen. Really burn. Not just in my imagination. I had seen him tender, vulnerable, strong and fierce. The spotlight magnified those things. Up on that stage he was all that and more. Sexy. Confident. Compelling. Totally in his element. More than just a man.

  A rock god.

  He had changed out of the clothes he’d worn earlier. Only the faded jeans that outlined his long legs and narrow hips appeared to be the same. He wore a red ball cap instead of the cowboy hat and a crisp white v-neck shirt that clung to his pecs and hinted at the washboard abs underneath. When he reached the center mic he put a finger and a thumb to the brim of his cap dipping it before swinging it around backwards. He adjusted the height of the mic stand upward. I imagined his blue eyes sparkling behind his shades as he scanned the audience, the expectation measurable as everyone including myself held their breath waiting for him to sing.

  He strummed a chord on his maple top electric guitar and then leaned into the mic lips almost touching the metal. “This one’s for my NOLA friends. Thanks for making me feel welcome. I love this city. I even bought me some property today. Y’all might not ever get rid of me.”

  He and his band crashed right through several rocking numbers I recognized from his current album. By the time he reached the end of the third one, he’d ditched the hat. His hair was plastered to his skull, more dark brown than blond, and his shirt was saturated, clinging even more to his torso.

  Billy Blade wasn’t a stationary sit on a stool performer. He was a kick it up, twist and turn, prowl every single inch of the stage, raw explosion of energy.

  He paused to unclip his guitar strap and passed the instrument and his sunglasses off to a stage hand before bending over to retrieve a bottled water. He uncapped it, chugging half, the column of masculine throat moving in a way I found fascinating. Then he poured the rest of the water over his head. “Feels good,” he said into the mic, his tone low and slow giving me a shiver. I’d like to do something that felt good with him, truly. “Pardon me for a second, y’all.” He backed up a couple of steps and shook his head water droplets showering the stage in an arc around him.

  He was smiling that playful mischievous smile I was addicted to when he returned to the mic. And that’s when it hit me. I was totally gone for him, falling further than I’d been willing to admit. The words I hadn’t spoken yet blared inside my head like an amplifier on overload.

  I loved him. Deeply. Passionately. With a turn around the focus of my existence just to be his for one night kind of love.

  “I’ve got a little surprise.” He brought his sexy mouth to the mic again. “Some local guys and I have been trying out some new things. I think we sound pretty good. Working on an album we hope Black Cat Records will release this summer.”

  I watched Nico, Jamal and Maxwell move into place on the stage behind him while Billy took a cordless mic from his stagehand. “Gonna let my rhythm man take lead on this one. I need to sit down here with y’all at the front.” The crowd cheered loudly, feminine voices screaming out suggestive comments that he obviously heard. I saw his lips twitch, but otherwise he ignored them.

  He dangled his long legs over the side and nodded over his shoulder, the guys starting up with a sultry jazz lead I that I didn’t remember hearing them play before. Seated just yards away from where I watched him in the dark, he sang words that were a playful yet poignant invitation. Just like he was to me.

  True I’ve seen my wilder days

  But I’ve left them all behind

  Time has come to change my ways

  Only you can ease my mind

  Girl, won’t you wait a while

  There’s no need for you to run

  Let’s see if I can make you smile

  Hang with me we’ll have some fun

  Thyme, won’t you make some time for me.

  Hours stretch to lonely days

  Count the moments ‘til you come

  Don’t let our chance just slip away

  Don’t you know that you’re the one?

  How can I make you see

  That I can’t face eternity

  Without you here by me?

  So pay no heed to that ol’ clock

  Ignore those hands as they wind down

  Say the word I’ll make them stop

  Promise me you’ll stay around

  Girl, won’t you wait a while

  There’s no need for you to run

  Let’s see if I can make you smile

  Hang with me we’ll have some fun

  Thyme, won’t you make some time for me.

  Chapter 44

  Since love grows within you, so beauty grows. For love is the beauty of the soul.

  - Saint Augustine

  Billy

  I had never had so much trouble up on stage in my life, stumbling through lyrics I knew by heart. I was nervous about what I was going to say to Thyme’s Mamere, but I was also still distracted by thoughts of that woman out there on the parade route. Her curves. Her manner. Her eyes. Everything about her had reminded me of Thyme.

  Where was my ghost girl?

  I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t think about anything but her.

  After the last number, I raised a toast to the obligatory list of Bacchus Krewe volunteers and organizers before leaving the stage.

  “You guys were fantastic,” I said, stopping for handshakes and shoulder slaps with my New Orleans trio. “I saw plenty of cell phones held high recording us. If this thing goes viral like I think it will, then look out. Clear your summer calendar. I bet you money the four of us will be hitting the road to promote an album soon.”

  There were smiles all around, until Lorraine broke us up. “Sorry to interrupt,” she apologized, pad in hand. “But if you want to shower before the official meet and greet, you’re gonna need to hurry.”

  I certainly needed to do that. I finger combed sweat drenched hair off my forehead and excused myself from the guys, noticing as I walked away that Maxwell yanked hard at Jamal who was ogling my ever efficient assistant.

&nb
sp; “Still no Arla?” I asked.

  “Sorry,” Lorraine replied as she escorted me through the crowded cinderblock hallway. “Haven’t seen or heard from him.”

  “Try his cell again,” I implored pausing outside the locker room door that was serving as my dressing room tonight. “Make sure he knows that I’m looking for him and that I’m worried. If Morpheus comes, or anyone else on my list…”

  “I know the drill,” she interrupted making a face. “I’ll send them to the private lounge. I’ve got this. Don’t sweat it.”

  “Thanks, Lorraine.”

  “No problem, boss.” She turned away with a wave over her shoulder. I went inside cranking up one of the showers and quickly shedding my clothes.

  Eyes closed under the hot powerful spray, I was rinsing my hair when I sensed another presence in the room. I turned off the water, grabbed the towel off the hook, dried my face and turned around.

  “Thyme!” I exclaimed, staring in wide eyed astonishment at the stunning living breathing woman standing just a couple of feet outside the shower well from me while water dripped down my naked body. “I don’t understand. Is it really you?” I tucked the towel around my waist, not because I was cold, but to hide my immediate response to her. I didn’t know how it was possible for her to be here like this, but right then I didn’t care beyond the fact that she was.

  “Oui. It’s me.” A becoming blush dotted her softly rounded cheeks and her violet eyes glistened beneath the bright overhead lights.

  Lord have mercy on me, I thought. The vision. Her ghost form. The internet pictures. That brief flicker when she’d first touched me. None of that came close to this. I drank her in savoring every single titillating detail. Her bubble gum pink lush lips. The long tempting waves of her cinnamon hair. The creamy smoothness of her café au lait skin. The sensual shape of her breasts and curves in the indigo evening gown she wore.

  “It was you earlier.” I had to swallow to moisten my dry throat. “During the parade. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. With the mask, I wasn’t sure. I’d convinced myself it was just wishful thinking on my part.”

  “It took me a while to get here. I’m not used to the limitations of a physical form.” She twisted her hands together.

  Was she as nervous as I was? It almost felt as though we were meeting for the first time. My heart was racing a mile a minute. There were a million things I wanted to say to her, a million things I wanted to do to her and with her. But most of all I wanted to grab her and hold her in my arms and never ever let her go.

  “Tony got me in,” she continued, licking her lips. “You were incredible on stage. I heard the song. The lyrics they…” She trailed off shrugging her delicate shoulders as if she didn’t know what to say. Though the song was playful, it was poignant, too. I had put it all out there for her in those words. What she meant to me. How she made me feel. But now that she was standing right in front of me, I was totally tongue tied, unable to find the perfect words to tell her what it meant to me that she was actually here.

  “Billy, please say something. I’m used to you doing most of the talking. Here. Take this.” She stretched out her arm. Resting in the center of her palm was the silver coin I had thrown to her earlier. The prototype doubloon. The one Arla had given me ages ago. The one that had given me the vision of her. The one her lips had touched. I was envious of that damn coin. Her arm was steady as she offered it to me. Mine wasn’t as I reached out for it, for her, for that first touch. Not by a long shot.

  “I’m sorry,” I said my voice reflecting my sincerity as well as the rawness of the need coursing through me. My hand paused an inch away from hers, my eyes lifting and settling on hers. “You are so perfect, Thyme. The perfect woman for me.” My pulse was all jacked up. My heart felt like it was pounding inside my throat. “But I’m afraid to touch you. Afraid you’ll disappear. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I won’t disappear,” she whispered taking a step toward me, her heels clicking on the floor. “I promise.”

  I held her gaze, giving the rest to her straight. “I also know that a single touch won’t be enough for me. Once I get started, I won’t be able to stop.” My eyes burned. My body vibrated with the force of will it took to restrain my passion for her. “I want to devour you, pretty girl.”

  “I want you to.” She didn’t look away from me. She didn’t back down. She opened her fingers and the coin hit the concrete floor between us, ringing like a bell to an opening round that had been a long time coming. “I’m planning on returning the favor.”

  “Oh my Thyme,” I breathed. Her name was my prayer and touching her was going to be my salvation. I closed the remaining distance between us, grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her into me, letting out a broken moan the instant I had her warmth and softness in my arms.

  “Billy,” she cried. I could hear the tearful emotion in her voice. I tightened my hold crushing her to me. Everywhere our bodies touched felt right: her rounded breasts to my chest, her shapely thighs to mine and the cradle of her beckoning hips to my rock hard erection. A shudder rolled through her or maybe it was mine. The feelings between us were so strong, so reciprocal.

  Holding her to me with one hand, I reached down with the other, twisting the towel loose and tossing it aside, the thin now wet silk of her dress all that remained separating us. Then I glided both my hands up her arms reveling in having her bare skin under my fingertips. She was as silky smooth as the dress she wore only warm, perfectly warm. I marveled at the beautiful contrast of her skin tone against the gold of my own. Touching her, connecting with her was even better than I had imagined, and I had imagined it a lot. But it wasn’t nearly enough. I wanted to be closer. I needed for us to be.

  I traced my hands up over her shoulders and slid them up the back of her neck and threaded my fingers into the loose hair at her nape. I pulled gently. She wound her arms around my neck and tipped her head back leaning trustingly into my capable hands. I lowered my head. Her mouth parted for me, her soft sigh dampening my lips. “Ty, you are so beautiful.” My hands held her in position. Her eyes were heavy lidded and glowing. So were my own for sure. “I’m going to kiss you. I’ll try to be gentle, but there’s so much emotion for you inside of me that I don’t know if that’s even possible. I want you so badly.” Liquid fire pulsed through my veins as I brought my mouth closer to hers. My fingers flexed in her hair.

  Her eyes closed completely. “Yes,” she whispered, urgent fingers of her own tangling insistently in my hair pulling me to her. “Please.”

  Chapter 45

  They look upon each other, and their eyes gleam in the moonlight. - Lord Byron

  Thyme

  He seemed to want to go slow when I just wanted him to go faster. There was a genuine sweet ache, a smoldering need inside of me that he alone could fulfill. The moment his mouth touched mine that need ignited. His lips were warm and firm, resting motionless against mine as if he wanted to savor the way it felt to finally have them there.

  I felt that kiss everywhere. My scalp tingled, my toes curled and my already rapid heartbeat accelerated. I was in complete sensory overload, way beyond anything within the realm of my experience. I was a trembling mass of want and desire within the sanctuary of his arms. His scent was soapy clean from his shower, musky and so very male. His body was hard and strong. His hair was soft between my fingers. And his lips, oh his lips. They were the connecting point of all that perfection.

  The world could’ve ceased to exist in that moment and I wouldn’t have even cared. This was all that mattered. He was all that mattered. I didn’t think it could get any better, but then it did. Infinitely. When he began moving his mouth on mine, kissing me as if his life depended on it. As if I was his cure, and he needed to brush, taste, nip and lick every trace of the life giving elixir from my lips.

  My knees got weak. I clutched his shoulders. I started to feel lightheaded. He sensed my need parting my lips and giving me his oxygen. Our breaths mingled. H
is tongue touched mine, gentle strokes that provided the perfect friction to stoke the blazing all-consuming bonfire between us higher.

  He let out a deep sensual groan that felt like it pierced my throbbing core. He ripped his lips from mine, his breathing labored and his eyes liquid pools of hot desire.

  "Billy," I exhaled shakily drowning in his heated gaze, aching all over, wanting him to the very depth of my soul.

  “Thyme. Holy fuck. We need to stop. Go somewhere else. I’m about a second away from taking you up against that wall, but I don’t want our first real time to be here and like that.”

  “Yes, here. Yes now.” I dug my nails into his biceps. “I don’t care where or how as long as I have your arms around me.”

  His eyes flaring at my words, he nodded once, walking me quickly backward and caging me against the cold tile shower wall between his arms. My heart raced. His too. I could see it in the pulse point on his neck. Our rapid breaths punctuated the air between us. He laid his forehead on mine, his impassioned gaze plumbing the depths of my own. I saw more than just raw desire in his eyes. So much more. Meaning that confirmed that what I had done was worth every risk and then some. "It feels like my entire life was a dress rehearsal leading up to this one moment with you, Ty. I want to be everything you ever want. Everything you will ever need. I want to make this perfect for you so that you’ll have to love me.

  "I already love you.” How could I not reassure him and admit the truth after he had spoken those words? Even though I worried that this might be the end and not the beginning for us. Didn’t he deserve to know how I felt? “Totally and irrevocably.”

  “Thyme.” He moaned my name spearing his fingers into my hair and capturing my lips with a searing kiss that sealed our love. He kissed me long and hard and deeply, slanting his head one way and then the other, a ravenous takeover of my mouth and senses. I raked my nails into his skin tattooing a need that was every bit as fervent into the sinew of his shoulders, down along the line of his spine, even scoring the tantalizing curvature of his tight ass.