“No.” She licked at his lower lip, sliding her hand into the opening of his silk boxers to find the even silkier treasure inside.
“No?” One black brow shot up.
He dipped and delved with his fingers and, wiggling against the feel of ripe, luscious sensation, she laughed and said, “No.”
“The bench again?” he asked, slowly backing her toward the spot where they’d made love a few minutes ago. He gasped when she palmed his cock’s seeping head.
“No.” She curved her fingers around his shaft, tickling as she made her way down to the taut skin of his balls. He felt delicious.
“Oh God. The ground?”
She laughed at the hoarse timber of his voice. “Nope.”
He dropped his forehead down to hers, sighing. “Okay. What gives?”
“No climaxing until you agree to negotiate.”
“Negotiate?” He bit off the word as she rolled him gently between her fingers.
“Yep.”
“What are we negotiating here—or am I not allowed to know?”
“Who plans our wedding. Me, a mundane mortal event planner, or you, master immortal wedding planner to the matrons of suburbia.”
“Um, Caro?” He eased two fingers into her pussy, finding the hood of her clit with the pad of his thumb. She moaned, tipping her head back helplessly as he placed light, fluttering kisses over her cheek and down her neck. She tightened her clasp on his balls and he inhaled sharply. “I think you’re forgetting something.”
“What?” She tried to remember her train of thought as pleasure hijacked her brain but, damn, that thing he was doing with his thumb was incredible…
“I am…” Pausing on an exhaled breath, he withdrew his fingers and abruptly snagged her hand. She dazedly widened her eyes.
“What?”
“I am…your master.” With a blink-fast move, he brought her wrist to his mouth and covered her tattoo with his lips and tongue.
“Ah God!” She bucked, the climax that had been hovering at the brink of her pleasure center crashing the gates with gusto. “Cheater!” She heaved out the word.
His chuckle was sexily evil as he dropped her wrist, pulled her to his body and held her close, soothing her with sweeping caresses over her hair and back. “Just a friendly little reminder,” he murmured against her ear. “However…”
“Mm.” she wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled her face into his chest. He smelled so good, felt so good. She’d missed him so, so much. “However?”
Stepping back, he rearranged his clothes and smoothed his hair. After making a few adjustments to Caro’s clothes, he took her hand and led her away from the sheltering tree. “However, since I’m a newfangled kind of vamp, I am, in fact, willing to negotiate.”
She laughed as he flashed her favorite grin. Holding hands, they began to walk down the conservatory’s path. “Hmm. Most climaxes tonight wins?”
“Okay. But wait…is the climax giver or the climax receiver the winner?”
“Good question. We’ll negotiate that point first.”
“Cool. Let’s go home and get started.”
* * * * *
Negotiations continued well into the next week and Caro was quite happy with the outcome.
They decided Lenny should plan the wedding.
About the Author
Jennifer North was bored at work one day and stated writing a romance. “Truckstop Cutie” never made it past the first chapter, but it did provide loads of laughs for the IT guy who uploaded it onto his computer. Several years have passed and Jennifer now spends her days writing entire books that she hopes will provide laughs, chills, and thrills to a larger, more appreciative audience than her first one.
Jennifer lives in New England in a household bursting at the seams with males. No, wait-she’s not entirely sure of the gender of her sons’ three fish. But even before she lived with so many guys, she had an abiding love for football, muscle cars, beer and hard-driving rock-and-roll.
The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Party Vamps Page 27