“Mm, I missed you,” murmured Merrell. “I’ve been dreaming of how you taste for days…” He gave him another lick, wetter, more forceful. “Now I’ll have you for my coffee break…so much better than my favorite latté.” Merrell’s tongue lingered on the tender ridge along the crown. “So much hotter.” Len hummed softly as a well-manicured fingernail traced the groove of the slit. “Makes me feel so much more jazzed…” Len clutched Merrell’s head, his fingers grasping his smooth, short curls convulsively. “Let’s see if we can make a little of that lovely frothy cream come out on top…”
“God, just do it!” He thrust hips forward, the move involuntary, like his cock was pulling the rest of his body toward those sensitive vamp lips. Vamps had a unique way of giving head—those canines got in the way of traditional techniques like deep-throating. What they lacked in suction, they made up for in skill.
For example, Merrell had this great little thing he did with his front teeth…oh yeah, there it was right there, an enticing little tickle along his raphe, half scrape, half bite. Len thrust forward, grunted. Yes, the open-mouthed kisses were very, very good. Merrell’s lips were so cool, his saliva so hot. He had a special way of pressing the tip of his tongue to the tender flesh of his glans—he should patent his technique, it felt so fucking good. Too good.
“Oh shit, I’m gonna go really fast,” Len cried out. He tried to find something to hold on to as he felt his knees go weak. Merrell’s palm was bearing down on his balls, pressing them in rhythm with his pulsing tongue. Len’s climax rolled through his gut and out his cock like a bullet express.
“God, God, God…!” His hand caught the edge of a shelf full of boxes of binder clips. About twenty boxes came rattling and crashing to the floor. But he didn’t care. He was too busy pulsing his cream into Merrell’s waiting mouth. He closed his eyes, shuddering, whimpering like a wuss. But damn, he couldn’t catch his breath. Merrell placed a last soothing lick along his shaft and then leaned back on his heels to look up at him.
Len took a hesitant step forward, still feeling a little rocky in the knees. But that look on Merrell’s face was too much to resist. The floor would be hard but he didn’t care. He nudged Merrell’s shoulders, hinting at what he wanted next.
“Nuh-uh,” Merrell whispered. “I want you on your knees. My cock has a message for your tight, hairy little satyr ass…”
Len smiled big, dropping to his knees—then freezing as he heard a key turning in the lock.
Jack walked in, briefly surveying the scene before shutting the door behind him. He fixed his hot blue gaze on Len’s ass and grinned that fabulous Jack grin. “Hello, lovers. I thought I might find you in here.”
* * * * *
Caro noted with a jolt of nerves that Mike’s office was directly across the hall from the office she’d be sharing with Lenny, Alex and Sherene. Would Alex be in there? The door was slightly ajar but she couldn’t see any movement inside. Mike escorted her into his office. He offered her a chair at a small round conference table near his desk.
“Did you have a good week?” he asked politely. He pulled a bunch of files off his pristine credenza and brought them over to the table.
“Yes, thanks. It was very productive.” Caro noticed several of the pictures on Mike’s bookcases showed him in a University of Illinois football uniform. Yep. Just as she thought. A jock boy.
“Good. I have to confess I did think about you more than a few times.” Mike’s smile was charming.
“Oh? I hope they were good thoughts.” She might as well flirt back, she thought. She definitely needed to start thinking about a guy other than Alex. A nice, normal human might be just what the psychotherapist ordered.
“Hey Mike, there’s something on this afternoon’s agenda I wanted to talk to you about—” Alex came through the door and froze when he saw her.
Caro felt her nerves thrum as those gray-green eyes met hers.
Mike stood up. “Alex, come on in. Caro just got here and we were going to go over a few things before the meeting.”
He thoroughly checked her out when she stood up to greet him. She’d chosen her outfit carefully today—a cashmere sweater dress that clung in all the right places and knee-high suede boots. She didn’t know whether to feel triumphant or annoyed as he gripped her fingers and gave her his slowest, sexiest smile—the one that said, “I wanna do you here and now”. It was way too intimate of an expression to wear in public, but wow—it was a definite ego-booster to be on the receiving end of it.
“Caro.” Alex’s voice and cordial nod were cool and all business, but his hot eyes lingered slightly too long on her cleavage.
He still had her hand and she felt her body respond to his touch in typical fashion. She wanted to jump him. Dump the stuff off Mike’s desk and do him fast, hard and furious.
Mm, he looked so divine…maybe she would take her time with him instead. Slowly explore what was under the charcoal suit that hugged his lean body…loosen his tie. Oh Lord, was he wearing a pink tie? Yeah, it was a fabulous pearly silk in the palest pink. It would have looked ridiculous on somebody like Mike, but on Alex it looked sexily elegant. She’d slide it from his collar, cinch his wrists behind his back and have her sweet way with him.
She bit her lip. Oh Christ. Even his silly-assed neckties looked sexy to her. She wanted to rest her head in her hands and weep over her weakness.
“Would you like to join us?” Mike was asking Alex. “What did you want to discuss?”
Alex finally let go of her hand. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—look at him again. “No, no. I didn’t mean to interrupt. It can wait until the meeting. There are a few things I still need to take care of before then so I’ll see you both later.” He left, softly closing the door behind him.
Mike shrugged as he looked at the closed door. “You know that guy’s got odd style but I’m beginning to see why he’s so successful.”
“Oh?” She settled back into her chair, trying not to sag in a silent sigh of relief that Alex was gone.
“Yeah, smarter than hell and always taking everybody by surprise. Keeps you on your toes.”
“Mm-hmm. He sure does.”
* * * * *
Two weeks later Caro was still having lascivious daydreams about her luscious, immortal co-worker, Alex “The Party” King.
The plans for the first product launch gala event were coming together amazingly well. Alex’s brash, bold, over-the-top vision meshed well with Lenny’s whimsical, fun-loving scheme. Caro and Sherene were both very practical and client-oriented. They kept their vampire and satyr partners from getting too pie-in-the-sky with budget and scope.
Their concept centered on an ancient Greek spa. The cleverness of the design lay in its scale. It was grand—gargantuan to the extreme. Each notch of the spa’s pillars could display a towering, twenty-foot product banner or project super-sized video images of a Stoked product in use. In the pool at the center of the spa, large trays displaying mega-sized mockups of each Stoked item could be floated. Models—both mortal and immortal—could lounge on the spacious ledges of the pool and demonstrate products.
Everything from the smallest item on the buffet to the biggest item of the decor had to be planned out to the last detail.
Usually, Caro loved sweating the details—Lenny called her the detail diva—but working closely with Alex was making her sweat for an entirely different reason. The only thing she could concentrate on was him.
Like this afternoon. Lenny had spread out the latest version of the display manufacturers’ plans on the big worktable. At first Caro had pored over them, carefully making notes for the caterers, the electricians, the florists and umpteen other vendors she was trying to keep track of.
But then Alex walked up to the table. Stood a discreet twelve inches away from her. Smiled at her politely as he leaned forward to switch around the blueprints. And her concentration immediately shifted to him.
Today it had been all about his scent. One whiff and she was completel
y aroused. She’d stood there like an idiot, clutching her forgotten notebook against her erect nipples and trying to break down what it was about Alex that smelled so utterly delicious. The shampoo he used on all that thick, silky hair. The crisp cotton scent of his white shirt. The citrusy, clean blend of his aftershave. The slightly musky aroma of his flesh.
Nobody else smelled like that. And she knew exactly where she’d like to breathe him in.
If they were alone in the office she’d go over to the door and lock it. She’d take off her clothes—no, she’d take off his clothes and have him lay down on that big, shiny table. Crawling over him, she’d run her face all over his pale, smooth muscles, press her nose into the spots where the musk would be most concentrated—his neck, under his arms, his inner thighs…
And when she got done with her olfactory exploration she’d move on to taste.
Mmm…
Then Sherene had tapped her on the shoulder and she’d guiltily realized she’d missed an entire conversation about the vendors. Details that would have to be repeated later so she could write them down.
Her weakness for Alex, her absurd several-times-a-day sensory meltdowns in his presence and, yeah, her basic inability to do her fucking job, were all good reasons why she was here alone in the Stoked offices working at four a.m. It was the only hour she’d found when she could get any work done. After the vamps had gone home for the night, and before everyone else had arrived for the day. She’d discovered that if she reviewed all the plans and completed tasks on a daily basis, she had better luck working when everyone else arrived the next day.
She was viewing one of Sherene’s multi-media presentations for cologne when she heard the door open behind her.
Alex.
She turned to look at him. He stood there with his hand on the door, surprise on his face.
“What are you doing here?” they asked in unison.
Alex laughed as he walked into the room. Wearing tattered jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and running shoes, he looked tired and sexy and strangely vulnerable. More human than vamp. She realized the professional veneer he’d kept so carefully in place for the last few weeks was missing.
“I was working on the column designs at home,” he said. “And I discovered a problem. I need to look at one of the new half-scale models the builders sent over today.” He went to the workstation he’d been using and grabbed a set of keys. “What are you up to?”
She shrugged. Her shoulders and neck felt stiff with fatigue, tension, nerves. She knew exactly what she’d like to do to loosen up… She fiddled with the PC’s mouse and felt silly when she realized her fingers were trembling. “Just trying to catch up on some stuff. Sometimes I, um, work better when there’s no one around.”
“Sorry to interrupt.”
“No, don’t be. I was just about to go back to the hotel. Try to snag a few hours of sleep.”
“You look like hell.” He smiled when she scowled at him. “Um, make that beautiful but tired?”
“You don’t look so great yourself.”
“I know. These last couple weeks have been…wearing.”
“Yeah,” she exhaled.
“Hey, did you get a chance to see the models of the spa they delivered today?” His eyes lit up. Caro had been consistently amazed over how much he loved this job. Working with him made her appreciate a steadfastness and enthusiasm she’d never seen in him before. The party boy had turned his lifestyle into a vocation.
She smiled at his smile. “No. I was meeting with one of the caterers.”
“Wanna come with?”
Probably a bad idea, but God, she so wanted just to talk to him, see more smiles, be near him. “Sure,” she said.
“We co-opted half of one of Stoked’s gigantic storage rooms on the floor below,” he explained as they walked down the hall toward the elevators. “Which is great because usually we’d have to store this kind of thing off site.”
They got on the elevator and Caro tried not to think about the last time they’d been on an elevator together. Unconsciously covering her wrist, she sent a furtive glance in Alex’s direction. He was concentrating on the crease between the elevator doors. Concentrating very hard.
The doors opened and she breathed out a silent sigh.
She followed him down the partially finished hallway—Stoked was having all the offices redone on this floor—and when they came to a large set of double doors he pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked them.
He flicked on the lights and a series of overhead fluorescents whitened the cavernous space. They walked through an aisle of huge crates and past billboard-sized pieces of advertising exhibits Stoked had used over the years. Lots of black. Lots of glass. Lots of mirrors. Masculine-looking glitz.
“Here we go.” Stopping at the end of the aisle, Alex looked down at the centerpiece of their party scheme done in miniature. It was an open-air bathing spa—the model about waist high with a big piece of blue cellophane serving as water for the pool, and dozens of white plastic cylinders serving as Greek columns.
“Wow! It looks fabulous.”
Alex walked around it, hands in pockets, brows furrowed in concentration.
“Yeah. I’m pleased. I’m not sure about the table scheme Len came up with, though.” He pulled a piece of paper from his jeans pocket and knelt down. “Tell me what you think.” He gestured for her to join him and she crouched down next to him. “See, if we put a row of tables here,” he said as he pointed along the inside of the columns, “then it will block traffic flow over here.”
When she tipped her head to get a better view of the line he was drawing with his finger, a swath of his hair fell forward and brushed against her face. Her body stiffened, her awareness of him agonizingly acute. He lifted his hand to push his hair back and his elbow bumped her, making her lose her balance. As she toppled into him, he twisted a little—to save them both from falling into the model—and ended up on his ass, Caro half on top of him.
“Sorry,” he murmured after breathing half a laugh. “See how dedicated I am? I risk my own ass to save our party model.”
Caro was working hard to scramble off him super fast and look casual about doing it.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
“Of course.” She felt her cheeks get pink as she brushed herself off. “You cushioned my fall.”
“No. I mean are you okay in general? You look…freaked out.”
“Yeah. I’m just—” She heard her voice crack, felt tears well up—Jesus, what a head case—and she wanted to sink through the floor or maybe, she thought as she looked at the model, shrink to half-size and escape into the coliseum. She stood up and, to avoid Alex’s scrutiny, started walking toward the next aisle of stored displays.
“This stuff is amazing. I remember most of these ad campaigns.” She walked by a huge mirror—it was about the size of her living room wall—and a glimpse of her reflection jarred her to a stop.
Oh God. Alex was right. She did look like hell. Like him, she was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. With her scrubbed face and her hair scraped into a ponytail, she looked like a twelve-year-old who hadn’t slept or eaten in a month. And, mentally, that description was on target.
Alex came to stand beside her. “I think they used this mirror as a backdrop for a razor display.”
“Oh.”
She took a step away and in the mirror she saw his hand reach out to stop her. When she froze, he dropped his hand back to his side.
“You wanna talk about it?”
She shook her head.
“Caro, I—”
“I didn’t expect this to be so hard—”
They spoke at the same time.
He caught her eye in the mirror. “Go ahead,” he encouraged.
“I…” She paused. Should she pour out her heart to him, like she wanted to? Did she really want to give him that kind of ammunition?
He nodded, the side of his mouth turning down into a half-smile. “It’s okay. Y
ou’re just talking to my reflection, not me. And my reflection promises not to remember any of this conversation, unless you want it to.”
She took a deep breath but couldn’t return his smile. “Okay. I want you. Badly. More than ever. I can’t concentrate on work. I can’t think about anything else. And it’s making me nuts. Because I can’t have you.”
He closed his eyes, tightened his hands into fists. She could see and feel the vampire within him become larger…somehow more awake. But when he opened his eyes he looked just as he had a few minutes ago. Approachable. More mortal than immortal.
“Maybe it’s time to get creative,” he said. He sat down on the floor and pulled his knees up, casually draping his forearms across his knees.
“Creative?”
“Yeah. We make each other unbearably hot but we don’t want to have sex because things got too intense, right?”
“Um, right.” She slowly sat down next to him.
“So there must be a way we can cool each other off without…”
“Without?”
“Having sex.” His grin made her belly dip.
She tried to think of what he could possibly be talking about but every image that popped into her head made her…unbearably hot. “I don’t get it.”
“You’re worried about our blood connection, right? The powers we give and take when we make love? Or when I feed?”
Oh God. This conversation alone was getting her hotter. “Right,” she agreed again.
“What if we had sex without making a physical connection, without touching?”
“Like phone sex or something?”
His laughter was husky and low. “Exactly. Except…since we’re here together we wouldn’t have to use a phone.”
“Oh.”
In a lithe move, he stretched out his legs and leaned back on his elbows. She could feel his body heat now, and she wanted to turn her head and look at him, make eye contact without the barrier of the mirror, but she didn’t. She kept her eyes on the mirror, watching the long, lean muscles of his legs tighten and relax under the faded denim, watching something decidedly more significant happen farther up under his fly.
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