by Aubrey Ross
“Funny man.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” He grinned. “Brian got us invitations to the post-show party.”
Jessie stared at him in stunned silence. Dalton frequently bragged about his brother’s connection to Thane Burton, but Jessie hadn’t really believed him until tonight. Brian was an investment banker, for heaven’s sake. Why would he know Pyrite’s business manager?
“Don’t look so shocked. Have you ever known me to make an idle boast?”
“Please,” she snorted. “You’re a man.”
He narrowed his gaze and leaned across the table, lowering his voice as much as the music allowed. “Did I ever leave you wanting?”
She waved away the question. Their affair had been over before it began. She’d needed comfort after the tragedy, and Dalton had been happy to oblige. Still, their friendship meant more to her than the physical pleasure they’d found in each other’s arms. She didn’t love Dalton and he knew it.
The past two years had given her time to reassess her priorities, to reflect on all she’d lost and determine what she wanted out of life. Never again would she live for her job, take happiness for granted, or waste her time with anything less than a fully committed relationship.
“Did any of the victims have backstage passes?” She drew Dalton’s attention back to the case. “Were the members of Pyrite ever questioned?”
He sent the cocktail waitress away with a definitive shake of his head. “No one was questioned in any of the cases. They’re suicides, not homicides.”
“What are your instincts telling you? Is this some sort of message to the band?”
“I haven’t ruled out the band.” He tapped his thumbs against the tabletop, his gaze focused on her face. “If you touch each member of Pyrite, would you be able to…you know, sense whether or not they’re the one?”
She unfastened the large barrette holding back her hair. Only a strand or two had come loose, but she needed something to do with her hands. “If I start pawing the members of Pyrite, I’m liable to find myself flat on my back. Rock stars aren’t known for their subtlety.”
“Brian introduced me to Thane a couple months ago. I don’t know if he’ll remember me, but if he does, I’ll have him introduce you to the others. Just act like a giggly fan while you shake their hands.”
“Giggly fan?” She crossed her arms under her breasts and slanted him a look. “Have you ever heard me giggle?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
Finger combing her hair back into place, she refastened the barrette and glanced toward the stage. Her lips tingled and aching desire erupted between her thighs. She acknowledged her body’s response to Rafe’s skillful performance. He had perfected the role he played. That’s all there was to it. He played a role to promote his music and she’d play a role to catch a killer.
“I’ve worked undercover before,” she said, more to herself than to Dalton. “This isn’t any different.”
He nodded and offered an encouraging smile. “I’ll see if I can find Thane. Don’t go downstairs without me. Brian said there’s going to be media coverage at the party, so they should be on their best behavior. Still,” he paused as his gaze swept her body, “you look especially hot tonight.”
He melted into the crowd before she could reply. His protectiveness was sweet but unnecessary. Jessie could take care of herself.
Relaxing against the booth, she let the music surround her. She couldn’t see the band from where she sat, but the husky rasp of Rafe Steele’s voice called his image to mind. His glossy black hair just brushed his shoulders. Thick-lashed dark eyes dominated his angular features, and his mouth defined carnality.
Another hot tingle spiraled into her abdomen. She clutched the edge of the table with both hands. It wasn’t just Rafe. Pyrite’s music was blatantly sexual. The driving rhythm accented her heartbeat while the blistering guitar riffs fired her blood. She squirmed, understanding the primal movements of the people on the dance floor. It was almost unavoidable. She wanted to cup her breasts and—thrust.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and closed her eyes. Bodies wrestled through her imagination, naked, sweat-dampened, grasping and straining. The image focused and Rafe knelt between her thighs, his gaze burning into hers. He caught the backs of her knees with his hands and pushed her legs up and back. Her clit responded to the fantasy with an especially intense throb.
Yes! Fuck me, fill me, make me yours.
Her eyes flew open and she pressed her hand to her upper chest. This was ridiculous. Were they pumping pheromones through the ventilation system or lacing the drinks with—
“Thane’s already downstairs.” Dalton’s voice penetrated the sensual haze. How long had he stood beside the table, watching her fidget? “Are you all right?”
She expelled a ragged breath and managed to nod. “Just a bit of a headache.”
“Can’t imagine why you’d have a headache.” He smiled, motioning for her to follow him. “Evette suggested we find Thane now. Once the band goes downstairs, we’ll be lucky to get near him.”
“Who’s Evette?” Jessie scooted out of the booth, ignoring the ache still centered between her thighs.
“Thane’s sister. The Burtons own the Crimson Carousel.”
Doubtlessly the reason Pyrite was playing such a small venue. Dalton took her hand as they worked their way through the crowd. Good thing he knew where they were going. A burly man checked their invitations before allowing them down the corridor adjacent to the stage.
Jessie wasn’t sure what she expected, but the spacious, artfully decorated lounge was a pleasant surprise. The red and gold décor was a bit garish, but there were no half-naked groupies and no illegal substances—yet. She smiled. A lavish buffet had been laid out against one wall with an attended bar on the end. A tall, dark-haired man stood across the room from them, speaking with a lovely blonde woman.
“That’s Thane and his wife. I don’t remember her name.” The crowd erupted in rowdy applause and shrill whistles. “Sounds like we escaped just in time.” With his hand at the small of her back, Dalton hurried her toward the attractive couple.
The dark-haired man noticed their approach and inclined his head. “Hello, Dalton.”
Dalton stuck out his hand. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me. This is Jessica Curtis. She’s a huge Pyrite fan.”
“I hope you both enjoyed the show.” He indicated the woman at his side. “This is my wife Marissa.”
Jessie smiled and shook hands with Marissa. As she turned to Thane, a vivid image erupted in her mind. Thane and a blond man held Marissa sandwiched between them, stroking her naked body as she reveled in the attention. Christ, was it the room? Did the whole nightclub radiate sexual intensity?
The door at the top of the stairs opened to the roaring of the crowd. The members of Pyrite rushed down the stairs. Jessie’s gaze moved immediately to Rafe. His hair was damp, his clothing sweat-soaked, and still she longed to wrap her arms around him, to rub her body against his until they were both wild.
“Give us fifteen, Thane. We need to freshen up,” Phillip Noir called before ducking inside the adjoining room near the buffet table.
Rafe turned as he neared the door. Whatever he’d meant to say vanished as his gaze fell on Jessie. After wiping his face with the towel in his hand, he tossed it over his shoulder and crossed the room. Jessie’s pulse increased with each step he took.
She tried to drag her gaze away from his face, but his expression commanded her attention. Recognition shone in his eyes, igniting a slow, melting heat in Jessie. It hadn’t been her imagination. Somehow, in the midst of his screaming fans, he’d spotted her, connected with her.
Fuck me, fill me, make me yours.
This couldn’t be happening. She was here to catch a killer!
Rafe glanced at Dalton then turned to Thane. “Get security down here.” He pointed to Dalton. “This asshole is bugged, and she’s a reporter.”
Jessie st
ared at Rafe, dumfounded by his accusation. “Are you on drugs? I am not a reporter.”
“I saw you upstairs, sweetheart, and you weren’t watching the show.” He moved closer, hostility shining in his dark eyes.
“That doesn’t even make sense.” She held her ground, refusing to be browbeaten by this irrational celebrity. “Wouldn’t a reporter be especially interested in the show?”
“Not if the concert wasn’t the story.”
“Then what is the story?” Placing her hands on her hips, she attempted to stare him down.
Without breaking eye contact with her, Rafe repeated his order. “Get security down here, now!”
Dalton pulled his t-shirt off over his head and held his arms out away from his body. “No bugs, Mr. Steele. I’m not sure what we did to upset you, but—”
“It’s not that sort of bug.” He glanced at Dalton. “A powerful telepath is using you to spy on me.”
“Are you sure about this?” Thane didn’t seem surprised by Rafe’s outlandish claim.
“A psychic bug?” Jessie laughed.
“Why would the concept surprise you?” Rafe returned her challenging stare.
“Rafe’s never wrong about these things. You’re going to have to leave.” Thane motioned Dalton toward the staircase across the room. “It’s probably best if you both go.”
“No.” Rafe stepped forward and wrapped his hand around Jessie’s upper arm. “I want to talk to her.”
His warm fingers pressed into her flesh. He was an arrogant jerk, so why had her heartbeat kicked up the moment he touched her skin? “I don’t think so.”
“Jess, you wanted to meet the other members of the band. It’s a shame to waste this opportunity. Just say hello. Hopefully the others aren’t as obnoxious as Mr. Steele. I’ll wait for you in the parking lot.” Dalton’s soft tone was filled with meaning and Jessie wanted to kick him. The investigation was important, but how the hell had Rafe known she was clairvoyant?
“I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Marissa assured him. “We should probably figure out what’s going on.”
“I’ll wait in the car,” Dalton insisted. “There’s no reason this should take more than a minute or two.”
“You will go home and worry no more about the safety of your companion.”
Jessie bit back another laugh. Who was Rafe trying to impress with that imperious tone?
Dalton kissed her on the cheek and headed for the stairs.
Holy shit! She looked at Rafe with a mixture of fear and disbelief. “What did you just do to him?”
* * * * *
Natalie released her telepathic hold on the human with an exasperated sigh. “Damn it! Rafe shouldn’t have been able to sense my link.” She braced her hands against the window frame, panting softly.
“He has always been unusually perceptive.” Etoro shrugged. “It’s a bit premature, but no real harm was done. The pieces are falling into place beautifully.”
Turning from the window and the city lights beyond, she glanced around the cheap hotel room. They’d spent far too many nights in hotels over the last few months and this one was worse than most. She was restless and frustrated. This confrontation was long overdue. She wanted it finished once and for all. She wanted to go home.
“His reaction to Jessie was encouraging, I suppose.” She tapped her chin with one long, sculpted fingernail. “I didn’t expect the attraction to be so intense.”
“He deserted the stage to begin his seduction. We’re finally on our way.” Etoro took her hand and pulled her away from the window. “Come, my love. The connection has drained you. Let’s play with our new toys.”
His pale green eyes caressed her face, glistening with tenderness and anticipation. She waited until he looked away to glare. Each time he uttered an endearment, she found it harder to conceal her disgust.
Etoro was a means to an end, and that end was nearly upon them.
He was right, however. She was exhausted. Maintaining a telepathic link with an untrained mind required enormous amounts of energy. She ran her tongue over her canines, savoring the sensation as they extended to their full length.
Etoro crossed the hall and opened a door identical to theirs. Natalie swept into the moonlit room. As Etoro paused to latch the door, Natalie examined their newest toys. A young couple huddled together on the bed, naked, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“We’ve decided we don’t want to do this,” the young man said. “The money would be great, but…this is just too weird. Can we have our clothes back?”
“Is it ‘too weird’ if we double the money?” Etoro clasped his hands behind his back as he approached the bed.
The young man looked at his girlfriend with obvious excitement. “Lisa, that’s ten grand.”
Lisa shifted her gaze from Etoro to Natalie and back, her lush mouth trembling. “All you’ll do is watch? No one touches me but Matt?”
Natalie swept the girl’s body with an objective glance. She hadn’t looked so young in the provocative clothing she’d worn to the Pyrite concert. They’d sent one of their human slaves to the Crimson Carousel with a very specific shopping list. Lisa’s long blonde hair and wide hazel eyes were perfect. The male was unimportant. Rafe would understand the message as soon as he saw the female.
“How much would you require if I want to do more than watch?”
Natalie smiled as Etoro continued the negotiation. It didn’t matter what he promised. They had no intention of paying the humans anything.
“For twenty-five K, I’ll do whatever you want,” Matt volunteered, “but no one touches Lisa unless she says it’s all right.”
Taking the girl’s slender hands between his, Etoro drew her to her knees. “I want to taste you. I want to feel you come around my tongue.” A delicate shudder shook her slender body and her gaze darted toward Matt. Etoro turned her face back around. “A woman’s taste is fouled if her pleasure is forced. Will you let me feast on your pussy?”
Natalie wanted to laugh. Etoro was a master of these games. There was no denying his skill. Lisa’s nipples were already pebble-hard and a rosy flush tinged her smooth skin. A trace of fear tainted the girl’s excitement, but arousal would win out in the end. It always did.
“You love it when I eat you, baby.” Matt cupped one of her small breasts and stroked her hair. “If you relax, this could be incredible.”
“You can lick me, but no one fucks me but Matt,” Lisa asserted, her voice suddenly strong.
“Agreed.” Etoro spread out on his back and pulled Lisa on top of him. Matt looked on with a mixture of concern and fascination. With a few deft movements, Etoro had Lisa straddling his face, her body aligned with his. He hadn’t told her to suck his cock, but her face hovered over his crotch.
Natalie didn’t have the patience for seduction. Why bother when it was so simple to control humans with mental compulsions? Unzipping Etoro’s fly, she boldly stroked his shaft, bringing the flared head scant inches from Lisa’s lips. Suck him. Swallow every inch. Delight in the taste of his cock. She sent the command into Lisa’s mind.
“If she doesn’t want to—” Before Matt could complete his objection, Lisa parted her lips and sucked Etoro’s cock into her mouth.
Natalie looked at Matt, her expression challenging. “She seems to have accepted the situation.”
He pressed his lips into a thin line, his nostrils flaring. “You may be able to get off watching them, but it just makes me horny.”
“Then by all means, let’s find you something to do.” Crawling across the bed, Matt reached for her hand. Natalie stepped back and shook her head. “No one touches me but Etoro.” It was an exaggeration, but humans were good for one thing and one thing only.
Etoro wasn’t much better, but he had fathered her children, a feat nearly impossible for a transformed vampire. She despised Etoro, loathed his touch. Still, she continued to fuck him, hoping he would impregnate her again.
Natalie pulled a tube of lubricant from her
pocket and motioned Matt to the side of the bed. “If you’re the only one she’ll fuck, you better get busy.”
Etoro held Lisa’s hips, lapping and sucking her feminine folds, while she enthusiastically swallowed his cock. Reaching up, he parted her with his thumbs and stabbed his tongue into her cunt. She murmured incoherently, the bobbing motion of her head halting for a moment. Thrilled by the graphic tableau, Natalie passed the lube to Matt.
“Etoro has her pussy pretty well occupied.” She didn’t take her eyes off the couple on the bed. “Think you can find another way to satisfy yourself?”
“You are seriously twisted.” Matt’s amusement annoyed Natalie. It was better when they resisted. He was too eager to play, too willing to please. Natalie held the girl’s ass cheeks apart while Matt prepared her puckered little opening.
Lisa wiggled and objected as well as she could with Etoro moving in her mouth. Matt’s cock wasn’t long, but the circumference made Natalie smile. Little Lisa wasn’t going to like this.
After lubing the head of his cock, Matt positioned himself against Lisa’s anus. “Come on, baby, push back against me. I’ll try not to hurt you.”
“Too badly,” Natalie added.
The girl’s ass cheeks flexed beneath Natalie’s fingers, the flesh smooth and incredibly warm. Hunger surged within her. She needed to feed. Matt pushed inward, stuffing his thick cock into his slender lover. Natalie watched inch after glorious inch disappear up Lisa’s ass.
“Now fuck her hard and fast. Make her scream.”
Etoro latched on to Lisa’s clit and suckled ruthlessly while Matt rammed into her again and again. Muffled little cries escaped from Lisa, but Natalie couldn’t tell if she was excited or distressed. It didn’t matter. Heat surged through Natalie. Bloodlust fogged her vision with a glistening crimson mist.
“Enough, Etoro. I want to watch her ride her lover.” Matt started to pull out. “No. Hold her against you tightly and crawl onto the bed. If your bodies separate, Etoro will take your place.”
“But you said—”
“Move slowly and make sure you don’t lose him.” Natalie cut Lisa off. Etoro scooted out from under Lisa and she carefully crawled forward. Matt kept his groin flush with her bottom as he followed her onto the bed. “Now lie back and raise your hands above your head. I don’t want you to help her. Lisa must willingly impale herself on you.”