by Neve Wilder
“I never said vampire was a deal breaker,” he teased on a soft exhale that sent a shudder through me as I let my hands roam his firm shoulders and biceps on their way to the tight round shelves of his pecs.
“If I bite you, will that keep you in my thrall for eternity?”
“Try it and see.” It was such an echo of that first night in the alleyway that I smiled, even as his gaze burned through me.
I grazed my teeth over his throat again, then nipped at one of the straining tendons until he hissed out, arching into me and dragging my hand from his waist to the fly of his jeans.
“I think it’s working,” he rasped and sputtered through a laugh when I bit him again. “Fuck. Touch me.” The sound of his hoarse voice was cajoling, as lyrical as when he sang.
“Is that a request?” I asked, but I cupped him, taking in the stiff shape of his cock through denim and rubbing my thumb over the rough metal teeth of his straining zipper until he groaned out a yes.
I was ready to get Rufus Merrill naked and squirming beneath me, and to hell with everything else. I rolled on top of his thighs and sat up while his eyes bored into me, a quiet insistence in them that danced through me. After yanking down his zipper, I reached through the panel of his boxers and brushed my fingers over the hot, dark, and mesmerizingly swollen erection that greeted me. His hips lurched at my touch, and I sucked in a breath for his quiet moan, looking down at him and considering exactly how I wanted to take him apart. My mouth? My hand? My body?
And then the door flew open and James barged in like a soldier on a covert mission. Ru startled beneath me at the same time I did.
“Fuck, Quinn, come on, you can’t ditch out this early.” As James came to a stop at the edge of the bed, completely disregarding what he’d walked in on, he glanced down at Ru, whose heart was hammering against my splayed palm. James shoved his Krueger mask to the top of his forehead and fixed me with a hard stare. “Are you about to fuck the fucker who punched me? Bad form, man.”
“Hey.” Ru rose up onto his elbows, shooting James a petulant glare. “You shouldn’t come at people like that.”
“It’s a fucking haunted house. You shouldn’t be in one if you’re a piss risk. Not my fault you forgot your Depends.”
Ru bristled and tensed up beneath me, trying to rise as he said, “Who the fuck are you?”
“James—” I said, meaning it as a warning to my friend while I clamped my thighs tighter around Ru to keep him in place. “Settle down, I’ll be out in a minute.” Or never. The party would be fine without me. James was clearly hammered, and if James was hammered, everyone else was probably nearing comatose.
“I’m not sure I like you.” James narrowed his eyes at Ru, who gave him a bewildered look and then said, “Consider it mutual?”
“Hey—” I tried to interrupt again, but James rolled his eyes, yanked his mask back down, and turned back for the door just as Marco burst through and brushed past him, the gauze of his mummy costume unraveling so that now he just looked like a tree that had been TP’d. “’Sup James,” he greeted, as James stalked through the doorway. “God, he gets so serious about Halloween. Anyway, we’re out of that punch, so I’m about to just crack open the bottles of tequila and—” He stopped short, seeming to only now realize what was happening as he zeroed in on Ru’s open fly. I delicately placed my hand over Ru’s flagging erection in an act of belated modesty on his behalf. Ru started laughing, and when I looked down at him, he laughed harder, saying, “This is never going to happen, is it?”
Marco blinked, taking a step backward. “I—should probably just go.”
“You’re fine,” Ru and I both said at the same time, which had us cracking up all over again.
“God, that was creepy. Please don’t ever do that again. So.” Marco cleared his throat, and recentered his attention on me. “I’m just going to ignore Rufus Merrill’s dick—which, I must admit looks quite impressive even in its semisoft state—and ask you: Tequila, yes or no?”
“Yes, just hide the Patrón, and don’t let James get into the whiskey.”
“Keep James out of the whiskey. No Patrón. Got it.” Marco’s gaze cut down to Ru’s crotch once more, and then he took a deep breath. “Should I just tell everyone you’re um… you’re—”
I groaned. “No. I’m coming back in a sec. Just… yeah, gimme a second.”
“Totally understood, though I have to say if it only takes a second, I’ll be sorely disappointed in the both of you.” He made a face as if he’d been scandalized, then hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
I let out a long sigh and stared down at Ru, conscious of the fact I was still shielding his dick. Or part of it. He had his hands folded behind his head, his lips pressed together in a tight smile that broke into a quiet chuckle once the door was closed. “You have some strange friends. One who wants to kick my ass and one who wants to…”
“Lick your ass, most likely,” I helpfully filled in. I really didn’t want to leave my room and Ru, but I figured the interruptions would continue until everyone had gone. I gave him a regretful look and started to slide off him.
Reading my expression, he gave a little shake of his head and arched his hips slightly as he tucked himself away and zipped up his pants. “Go ahead, it’s cool. You’ve got a party to handle.”
“Will you stay?” I didn’t know why I was so nervous even asking, because I was certain the intensity of desire between us was mutual.
He licked his lips and then arched his brows like he was giving it some consideration. “You don’t want it to be a surprise, carry on with our charade, maybe drag this out another week or two?”
“No.” I fluffed my cravat and leaned over him to brush my lips against his. “In spite of your cute persistence about the whole vampire thing, I don’t have an eternity. That, and I really need to occupy my hand with more productive tasks again when I’m alone. Like painting.”
7
Rufus
I’d had to stop after two shots of tequila or I was afraid I’d spend the rest of the night over a toilet, and if I was going to spend the night over anything, I was determined it was going to be Quinn. Once he’d shown me back into the living area—with a short intermission just outside his bedroom door for another heated round of grinding up against each other—he’d returned to the haunted house, and I’d found Amanda looking green near the fake bonfire. She bounced shortly after but forgave me for my severe lack of chivalry in the haunted house when I’d promised to go out with her for drinks soon so we could bitch about the music scene.
Two hours later, the party finally began dying down. People straggled toward the loft’s entrance or left in droves, loose-limbed and laughing. More than a few were dragged out in the arms of their friends. There was still no sign of Quinn, so when I saw Marco with a trash bag, walking around and collecting empty cups, I found the box of them on the floor and began helping. He’d turned on a few lamps that put out a pale, rose-colored light.
“How long have you known Quinn?” I asked, searching for some conversation to pass the time. I was antsy. This night had gotten so built up in my head, and it was supposed to be just a simple thing, a hookup. But I was already wanting more.
“Since sophomore year of high school. I was new and he invited me to sit with him at lunch. We bonded over The OC.”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t have guessed. First season was the best, by the way.”
“Mm-hmm.” Marco nodded his agreement, then bent over to scoop up a handful of cobweb. I crouched down to help him untangle it from the leg of a table as he continued. “I had full headgear, which made me really popular, as I’m sure you can imagine. And I was a shrimp back then. He was the not-blind dude in heavily tinted glasses. Like the kind you see old people wearing.”
I imagined the pair of them walking down the hall together. Marco had clearly hit a growth spurt at some point, because he was about my height now. “Were people assholes to you?”
“
Surprisingly not as much as I’d anticipated being the new guy with a face full of metal, but sometimes, yeah. Quinn wasn’t really one to take shit, so I stuck tight to him and…” His shoulder lifted in a shrug. “We made it through, I guess.” He smiled, displaying his very white, very even teeth.
“Looks like the headgear did its job, for what it’s worth.”
He bared his teeth in a fierce grin for effect that made me chuckle, then knotted up his garbage bag and tossed it alongside the one I’d just set aside. I handed him a new bag, and we roved the kitchen, sweeping empty beer bottles and caps into our bags.
“He likes you,” Marco said softly. “He’ll probably get huffy if he knows I told you that, but I’ve been trying to set him up forever, and he blew off another date two days ago to go see you play.”
That information wrapped around my brain and settled in my stomach as sweet, welcome warmth. “He’s cautious of musicians, isn’t he?”
“Picked up on that, huh? Cautious in general, but especially of musicians.”
“I saw the portrait of Les Graves.”
“Yeahhhh…” Marco blew out a long sigh. “That boy did a number on him. They really weren’t together for that long, but they were intense for a while. Then Les went on tour and bailed. It sucked. I wanted to kill them both for the emo storm that followed.” Marco rolled his eyes and shook his head. “But anyway, after that he was just wary of getting involved with anyone for a long time. Dated Amanda for a hot second, but they ended up as just friends.”
“Amanda?” My jaw dropped. I’d had no idea. I was way more out of the loop than I thought I was.
“That was a couple of years ago, too. Anyway, point is—” He cut himself off. “Never mind, it’s not really any of my business.”
But I thought I knew where Marco was going. I’d grown to like him in the short amount of time we’d spent together. He was friendly and open and sincere, and I could tell he was fiercely protective of Quinn.
“I like him, too,” I said simply, because it was true. “And I’m not Les Graves.” Which was also true.
“You’re just as cute, though.” He winked at me, making me laugh, and before I could quip back at him, Quinn emerged at the far end of the loft with James. They exchanged a hug and bumped fists before James aimed one last look in our direction, narrowing his eyes at me, and then, surprisingly, he upnodded and lifted his hand, calling out, “Nice piece you’ve got there,” before shouldering through the cobwebs and out the front door.
“Does he mean my dick?” I shot a bewildered look at Marco.
“Oh definitely, and he’s an exacting judge, too.”
“Okayyy. Noted.” I blew out a long breath and picked up a plastic cap, seeking out the liquor bottle it might belong to.
Quinn approached us unhurriedly, sexy as ever. He’d ditched his coat, vest, and cravat and had unbuttoned a few of the buttons at the top of his shirt, giving me a preview of the creamy skin beneath. And honestly, Gary Oldman in his heyday had nothing on him.
“Gimme that.” He snatched the garbage bag from my hands and tossed it atop the counter. “I’ll finish it tomorrow.”
“That’s my cue to head out.” Marco came around the counter, then leaned in and brushed a kiss over Quinn’s cheek. Afterward, he squeezed my shoulder, his eyes wide with sincerity as he said, “Please take longer than a second. I’ll be really disappointed if I hear otherwise.”
“Oh God, stop.” Quinn swatted at him, and Marco danced aside, laughing all the way to the door. Once it shut behind him, I turned to face Quinn, only to find him already watching me.
“Alone at last,” I said, and it was only a little awkward. Mostly, the prospect of having Quinn all to myself had my libido stirred up again and my jeans tightening across my crotch. “Unless James decides to come back.”
“He won’t. Also, I apologize for that. He sometimes goes a little overboard on the protective-friend bit, especially when he’s been drinking.”
“Nah, it’s cool. It’s good to have people looking out for you.” I thought of my coworkers at Grim’s, of Dan himself. Hell, even Les and Evan would have my back in a second.
“So. Where did we leave off?” Quinn licked his lips, and I could tell he was trying to suppress a smile, probably thinking along the same lines I was, expecting some other interruption at any moment.
I hooked him by the open panel of his shirt, pulling him in to drag a finger down the exposed vee of his chest as it rose and fell more rapidly with my touch. “I think you were telling me how much you wanted me, how sexy I am.”
He threw his head back and laughed, and I took the opportunity to put my lips to his throat and tease the skin there until he choked out a groan.
“Do you know what I want to do now?” he asked.
I left a string of kisses down his chest, pushing his shirt to one side and exposing the flat nipple beneath to my tongue, pausing only to say, “I could take a guess, but I’d rather you tell me.”
“Everything that’s been in my head for the last week. And maybe then some.” His voice was low but confident, and the words sent another thrill streaking through me as he took my hand.
“There you go luring me again.” To be fair, he probably could have lured me into a dungeon at that point and I’d have followed.
“Is that a complaint?”
“Not even close.” As he started to lead me toward the bedroom, I yanked him back to me and kissed him soundly, pulling the glasses from the top of his head and folding them in my hand as I explored his mouth. He made that soft, breath-catchy groan that took me right back to that first kiss. It had been good, but this one was even better, an added urgency in the slide of our tongues together. I wanted him with an intensity I hadn’t felt in ages, and the slow rock of his hips against mine told me he wanted the same. I walked him backward until we bumped into a wall, and I peeled away from him. “And what’s been in your head all week?”
“A little of this,” he murmured, brushing his lips across mine again. His tongue flicked out, tracing the shape of my lower lip before he dropped lower, to my neck. He shoved up my T-shirt and bent to suck one nipple into his mouth and tease it to a hard, electric point with a scrape of his teeth that made me swallow hard around a raspy breath. “Plenty of this.”
His hand dived behind my waistband next, and my dick all but leapt, straining into the warm touch he danced across the sensitive head. “And a shit ton of this.”
My head fell back, and I sighed. Finally, finally. Every place his grazing touch roamed melted me a little more until I was sagging my weight into his, pushing him back into the wall, the plastic tarp squelching and the cotton cobwebs sticking to my forearms as he stroked me.
8
Quinn
Ru sighed when I pulled my hand from his boxers and squeezed him through his jeans, and then he spread his legs so that he was bracketing my outer thighs. Bracing his hands against the wall, he stole kisses from my lips, licking my chin and my neck as I undid the zip on my trousers and then abandoned it for his, yanking down for full access and sinking my hand into the darkness of wiry hair and hard, silky flesh I’d had to reluctantly abandon earlier. He exhaled through his nose as I kissed the corner of his mouth and ran my fingers over the length of him again.
“More?” I questioned.
“Oh hell yes. Much more.”
That was all the encouragement I needed. I pulled him roughly up against me, sliding my hands behind his jeans to cup his ass and urge his hips against mine, loving the glide of his cock, the mix of smooth skin and friction, the abrasive hit of denim and the metal of his zipper brushing against my crown.
He hissed out in pleasure, slippery with precum, and I swallowed the sound, losing myself in another deep kiss. His hips snapped against mine, and when the friction of our grinding became too much, I ducked from his embrace and came up behind him, shoving down the back of his jeans and spitting on my cock so I could bury it in the seam of his ass and ride up and down the sh
allow channel.
“Fuck,” he gasped, pushing back into me, a tantalizing thrum of electricity zinging through me. “Tease.”
The accusation sang through me and made me chuckle, but I took him in my fist to silence any more protests and molded my body to his, riding the tilt and rock of his body as he fucked my hand.
Pressure mounted in my groin, building in ribbons of fumbling ecstasy that made me gasp out softly as his hips moved faster. He was close, and as much as I wanted to feel him shatter, I wasn’t done with him yet. He must have been thinking the same thing, because he caught me by the wrist suddenly, pulling my hand away from his dick and kissing my fingertips as he turned a look over his shoulder and said, “There are still way too many articles of clothing in play.”
* * *
In my bedroom, he bullied me all the way to the bed until I spilled helplessly backward onto it, laughing as he fell on top of me in an ungainly heap. We couldn’t stop touching each other, kissing each other. We wrestled our clothing free in cumbersome spurts between kisses until the heat of his body poured over me and every smooth inch of his skin blanketed my body. He braced himself on his elbows, pelvis grinding against mine, our cocks bumping together and seeding hot tendrils of desire through me. Those slow, openmouthed kisses and the tangle of our tongues was going to incinerate me, and I might have laughed at the thought, except I was too turned on, mesmerized by the roll and slide of Ru’s body and the intent way he was looking at me like nothing was more important than this moment.
“May need longer than one and a half nights,” he groaned out as he fit his hand between our bodies and took us both into his grip. The tips of his fingers were tough and callused, the pleasure of his touch laced with a just a hint of sting I found completely arousing and exhilarating.
“I bit you, remember? You’re in my thrall for eternity. Or at least until sunrise. I’m not sure exactly how it works.”