One Bite Stand

by Nina Bangs

  Daria widened her eyes. “That’s terrible. We have to give you a birth date and a party.”

  “Do harpies go around planning birthday parties?”

  “Never.” Then she brightened. “Sometimes we throw a party when one of us catches a biggie for Hades.”

  She amused him, but beyond that, she touched him. No one had ever cared about when he was born, and they sure didn’t give a damn when he died.

  “You’re right, though. I can’t go around making people happy.” She bit her lip in concentration.

  He tried not to think about its damp sheen when she released it.

  “I’ll have Kal set it up. He can do whatever he wants. He’s not the one…” She let the rest of the sentence fade away.

  Well, well. He’d known she had secrets, and she’d almost blurted one. “Kal setting up a birthday party for a vampire? Don’t think it’s going to happen, sweetheart.”

  “He’ll do it. If I ask him. Besides, if you’re going to deal with Fenrir—an unknown badass you won’t talk about—you should at least have a few final moments of happiness.”

  He smiled. “You mean before all of me leaves this earth except for my finger?”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I think I’d enjoy the party more if we were celebrating a victory over the forces of evil.” Of course, there were degrees of evil. He didn’t know if he qualified as a heavyweight on the badass scale, but he definitely had his moments.

  “You’re right. A birthday party now would be frivolous. We’ll have it after the good guys win.” She frowned. “You didn’t hear what I just said. Good is never part of a harpy’s title.”

  Enough about parties, he wanted the answer to a question. “Who’re you trying to snatch, harpy lady?”

  “No one.” She looked away.

  “Is it me?”

  “Not at the moment.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  “Trying to take me would be a huge mistake.” He gently clasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “My father wasn’t a vampire any more than yours was a harpy.”

  Her smile was bright and false. “Then we should celebrate our connection.”

  Their connection? He studied her wide eyes and didn’t see their muddy color. He slid his gaze over her full lips and ignored her piercings. He dropped his attention to the swell of her breasts and forgot about her tattoos along with how dangerous she really was.

  “Sounds good. Let’s celebrate.” He leaned closer. She didn’t move away. “Got any ideas?”

  “Um…”

  “I agree.” Wrapping his arms around her, he covered her mouth with his.

  Kal had slipped up in his creation of the perfect harpy. Someone needed to tell him the real deal shouldn’t smell of pine forests and spring breezes. Daria’s brother also should’ve told her it wasn’t wise to play with vampires if you didn’t know their moms and pops.

  Declan traced her lips with his tongue, anticipating their softness, their warmth. Then he transferred his mouth to her ear, whispering, “Tell me your favorite color.” To encourage truthfulness, he gently nipped her earlobe.

  She drew away slightly to stare at him. “Color? Red, I guess. Why?”

  “Just curious.” Before he could pull her close again, the roar of a lion split the night.

  “Uh, don’t the humans sort of wonder about noises like that?” She glanced around.

  He shrugged. “Ganymede told me lots of humans who come here like to role-play. They bring their own sound effects. Some humans might like to think that’s a real werelion, some just pass it off as a recording. Doesn’t matter. The Woo Woo Inn is all about the strange and unexpected. That’s why people come here.”

  “Which is it?”

  “A real werelion.”

  She brightened. “I hope he likes rabbit.”

  “Uh-huh.” Declan tried to pull her close again, but she resisted.

  “Anything could be lurking around.”

  “I sent all the bugs away.”

  “Something larger, with eyes, ears, and a big mouth.”

  “I’ll kill it.” Declan was growing impatient to taste her. No, tasting was out this first time. Mentally, he slapped himself up the side of his head. What was he thinking? For him, there were only first times. He didn’t come back for seconds.

  Seconds and thirds led to women thinking there might be a “relationship.” He didn’t do relationships. Ever. His emotions had tanked long ago, so he couldn’t offer any warm or caring moments to anyone.

  Life was a whole lot easier if he kept his sexual encounters to a series of one-bite stands. It’d worked for centuries. No recriminations, no crying, no pain-in-the-ass emotional breakdowns. What could he say, he was a fun-and-run kind of guy.

  “Look, I have a vampire’s enhanced senses. I can hear Sparkle cursing you back at the inn. There’re no living things anywhere near us.”

  “Nowhere near us?” Her voice was soft, but something dark and predatory flashed in her eyes, then was gone.

  That’s when he was sure. She was thinking of carrying his ass off to Tartarus. His vampire nature—the one that lived to hunt, terrify, and generally dominate all living things—thought their clash would be a blast. Daria was fascinating in so many ways. And the threat of danger she brought to the table made her even more desirable.

  But a part of him that liked her and wanted to get to know her better—not sexually, because that would be a one-timer—hoped she’d decide not to try out any of her snatch-and-dispatch harpy tricks on him. He hadn’t fought her back at the church because he’d realized she was trying to carry him to safety. If she ever mounted a serious attack, though, she’d regret it real fast.

  He pulled her close again, and she didn’t resist. “So your favorite color is red. Sparkle would say red symbolizes everything that’s hot and sensual.”

  “Hades says it symbolizes blood and the fires of Tartarus.”

  “I like Sparkle’s take on it better.” He slid his fingers through the tangle of her hair. It wasn’t nearly as coarse as it looked.

  Time to feed his senses. This was what made his existence bearable. But he’d learned centuries ago to mask the intensity of his need. A little playfulness made the women he had sex with relax and laugh. Kind of like a killer whale balancing a beach ball on its nose.

  “How about a red surprise to celebrate our connection?” He didn’t give her time to puzzle through his comment. Declan visualized what he wanted and then willed it to take physical form.

  Her startled gasp was all the reaction he’d hoped for. “How’d you do that? Is it real?”

  “Sure is.” He hoped his little demonstration would give her pause when she thought about taking him. But then again, he’d enjoy a battle with another immortal. With her. Certain battles could be as sexy as hell.

  “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about anyone seeing us. I hope no one comes along, though. It would be hard to explain away a wall made from Red Hots.”

  Chapter Six

  Daria couldn’t appreciate the bizarreness of the wall because her brain, hereafter to be known as Command Central, was trying to put down a rebellion of the masses. The masses of sexual hormones that didn’t give a flip about abstract concepts like duty, goals, and career.

  “He’s alone. Snatch him. Gain great glory. Achieve goal“ Her brain spoke in focused sound bites.

  “Woohoo! He’s alone. Get naked and party until dawn. How many shots have you ever had at a hot bod who wants you this much? Uh, let me think. Oh, never” The masses spoke with one voice.

  “Do you like the wall?” Declan breathed the question into her mouth, and when she parted her lips to answer him, he took full advantage.

  She forgot about the wall as he explored her mouth, his tongue smoothing away any doubts, any ethical consideration about fraternization between harpy and possible prey.

  He settled her body more tightly against his, the hard press of his cock and the magic he created with his
mouth making mush of Command Central.

  A harpy gave as good as she got, though, so Daria did some exploring of her own. She slid her tongue over the impressive length of each of his fully extended fangs, a stark reminder that he could fit into another category be-sides possible prey. Try dangerous predator. Yummy. She loved a man who was deadly in every way.

  Just when her tongue was memorizing the texture and taste of him, he abandoned her mouth. No fair.

  “The wall? You didn’t answer my question.”

  To give her time to recall which wall he was talking about, he kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear and then traced a path down the side of her neck with the tip of his totally talented tongue.

  For a rubber band moment that threatened to stretch her control until it snapped, he placed his mouth over the spot at the base of her throat where her life force pumped a frantic rhythm. His fangs were a firm pressure against her skin. She hadn’t given him permission to…

  Then he moved on. What she felt was relief, right? Absolutely. No way could she have any other reaction.

  “Um, it’s high.” She shivered as he pushed up her top along with her bra, exposing her breasts to the cool night breeze.

  Sure, they’d been exposed when she became harpy back at the church, but this was different. This time she was completely aware of his gaze on them, and, as she’d already discovered, his gaze was as intimate as any touch.

  “All the better to remain private. What else?” He lowered his head to her breast and swirled his tongue around her nipple.

  Her nipple hardened while the rest of her body liquefied. Was that physically possible? She didn’t think so. “It’s made from little red candies. They’re symbolic, right?”

  “Mmm. They’re sweet, hot, and fun to nibble on.” He demonstrated his nibbling technique by closing his lips over her nipple and nipping gently. “And their burn stays with you.”

  “Why—” she was down to speaking in short gasps “— that wall?”

  “Because you’re too tense, too focused on being a super harpy. I thought making love inside a wall of Red Hots would make you laugh, relax you.” He transferred his attention to her other breast.

  Huh? What he was doing to her body would relax her? He had to be kidding. Burying her fingers in his thick hair, she pulled him closer, if closer was possible. She didn’t laugh, but she wasn’t doing much thinking about her job right now either.

  Reaching behind him, she slipped her hands under his shirt so she could splay her fingers across his broad back. Harpies didn’t do a lot of touching, so the sensation of smooth male skin was a major rush.

  She thought about stopping there, but that would be a waste of opportunity. And playing the opportunistic bitch kind of appealed to her tonight. Wiggling her fingers beneath the waist of his jeans—no underwear. Yes!—Daria worked her way south until she was finally able to clasp his awesome butt. She dug in, massaging a pattern of delight that shut even Command Central up. Daria was totally into the feel of his firm flesh beneath her fingers. Wonderful, amazing, but not enough.

  Super harpy? She could dream. Right now, with him, she could only think about being super sexy. He made her feel sensual and… And what? If she lived in his world, that last word would be desirable.

  He didn’t give her a chance to feel conflicted about the word as he kissed a searing path over her stomach, pausing at the spot where Sparkle’s borrowed pants began.

  Don’t stop, don’t stop.

  “You have a beautiful body.” His breath was warm temptation against her stomach.

  “No. Can’t have anything beautiful.” She was starting to pant as he slid her zipper down. Obligingly, she lifted her hips so he could work her pants over her hips. Her panties quickly followed.

  When he moved lower on her body, she lost her grip on his bottom, so she anchored herself by taking a firm grip on his wide shoulders.

  She should push him away, affirm her duty to be forever ugly, deny that he could find anything remotely beautiful about her, but Daria’s will was seeping from her in a thousand small rivulets of doubt and desire. Instead, she leaned back to give him better access to her body.

  “Why the need to not be beautiful? You could probably sneak up on your victims better if they were dazzled by all your positive points.” Just in case she didn’t get what points he was talking about, Declan reached up to roll one of her nipples between his fingers.

  With a groan of pleasure, Daria expressed her appreciation for all the mind-blowing things his fantastic fingers could do.

  She tracked his progress by the warmth of his breath when he spoke. Right now he was really close to where her massed army of hormones was attempting to hold off Command Central’s assault. CC was armed with that dread weapon, reason.

  He placed his mouth high on her inner thigh, and she clenched around the possibilities for his ultimate destination. So far reason wasn’t making a dent in the hormones because there were just too darn many of them.

  Daria figured she’d better answer his question fast before she lost the power of meaningful speech. “You don’t understand. Ugliness is a part of our culture. You have beauty contests, we have ugly contests. It’s who we are. Besides, a harpy’s face throws so much fear into her victim that he or she can’t mount any organized resistance.” There, she’d burned her last working brain cell on that one.

  She tried to spread her legs for him, but she’d forgotten that her pants were still bunched at mid-thigh. Well, she’d take care of that fast. Wiggling, she tugged at her pants, ignoring the twigs poking her in the behind. A harpy should be willing to suffer for…

  She lost her train of thought—okay, the engine was still chug-chugging, but all her boxcars had rolled back down the track—as he slipped his fingers between her legs and touched her.

  “Then change your culture. Look the best you can look and prove to everyone that a gorgeous harpy can be more effective than the old model. The easiest catch is the one that doesn’t want to fight back.”

  Declan bent his head and she felt the slide of his hair across her stomach. She sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled shakily. He’d said something she needed to answer, but she couldn’t think. She. Couldn’t. Think! This had never happened before.

  And the touching continued. He smoothed the tip of his finger over the most sensitive spot on her whole body. Back and forth, back and forth, back and…

  Her breaths came in quick gasps. Her heart pounded out a message of need so intense it bordered on pain. Think. But thoughts came together and drifted apart, never staying put long enough for her to make a connection.

  Shouldn’t she be touching him, bringing him pleasure? But she didn’t. What if she moved and he stopped doing what he was doing? She’d fold into herself and cease being.

  He ripped the decision from her as he continued to tease the now really overexcited nub of flesh. Heaviness built low in her belly along with delicious heat and the anticipation of unspeakable pleasure. She arched her hips in an instinctive pleading for more, more, and yes, more.

  The tipping point came so quickly it practically flattened her. He slid his index finger deep inside her, did awesome things with it until she cried out, and then withdrew it. Over and over again he tormented her while the pressure built, and then he added a second finger.

  It was all over. She arched one more time as the first spasm stopped her breath, the pleasure so intense tears trickled down her cheeks. And when the first wave of her orgasm passed, she had only enough rational thought left to slap her hand over her mouth so her screams wouldn’t cause someone to call 911. Then wave after diminishing wave of bliss rocked her until she lay limp but incredibly happy beside him.

  Too bad Command Central had wrested control back from her hormones. She’d never experienced anything close to that. The few male harpies she’d sampled were untalented eunuchs beside Declan.

  Fine, so a little honesty wouldn’t hurt. The male harpies hadn’t been Declan; therefore no m
atter how hard they tried, they couldn’t compete.

  That thought was so scary she immediately blanked it out. She’d already wandered away from the harpy mission statement rejecting kindness and random acts of helpfulness. Uncontrolled lust for possible prey would only compound the problem.

  “That wasn’t enough.” He looked as if his comment had surprised even him. “I want you with all the bells and whistles, harpy lady, but not here and not like this.” His soft murmur was filled with regret and a promise of so much more than what she’d just felt. “I thought here and now would be okay, but I was wrong. I want you to get the whole package when it comes to pleasure between us.”

  An unfortunate choice of words. The whole package. Her heart was still recovering from what his mouth and fingers had created. At the thought of his sexual package laid bare for her to play with, her heart skipped a beat and then picked up a new rhythm of arousal.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Don’t put down what just happened. I can’t imagine…” Wait. It had been his mouth and his fingers creating the magic. “Omigod, I’m so sorry. You did everything, and I just soaked it all up.” A quick glance between his legs assured her that he was definitely experiencing sexual frustration.

  He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again as they both heard pounding footsteps drawing near.

  “Damn.” He helped her drag her clothes into place before pulling her to her feet.

  First there was heavy breathing and then the sound of someone’s panicked scrabbling at the wall. Finally, a wild-eyed face appeared above the top of the wall just before it collapsed amid an avalanche of Red Hots.

  Tiny pellets of candy rained down on her. Daria put up her hands to protect her face. When the danger seemed over, she lowered her hands to find Walt the debunker on his knees staring up at Declan and her.

  “What the hell are those things?” Walt’s hands shook as he pushed himself to his feet and stared down the path. “Something’s chasing me.”

  Daria ruled out Fenrir. Walt would be just another finger discarded along death’s path if the werewolf had decided to sample a tasty debunker.