Expiez: Redeem Your Blood Lust

by C. D. Hussey

  Besides, flying solo was just the freedom she'd been craving—no arguing, no drama, no restrictions. She could go to whichever bar she wanted, leave whenever she wanted, talk to whoever she wanted… And as she walked down Royal toward the Square, she felt a rush of exuberance. Free. She was finally free.

  * * * *

  By about eleven p.m., Darus needed to take a break from his latest work in progress—a post-apocalyptic graphic zombie novel. Since the artwork was mostly complete, he was working primarily on the text. Being a graphic novel, there wasn't much of it. He was shocked it was giving him such a hard time.

  A little inspirational break was what he needed. Fifteen minutes later he was lounging in the private room at The Cell, watching dancers get sweaty on the dance floor and sipping on a Gin Rickey, one of the few classic cocktails this bar had the ingredients to make. That was one of the things preferable at Luxure. Slade was an excellent mixologist.

  He would never admit that to his face, of course. But the man who could body double for Arnold Schwarzenegger in the Conan days was one of the best bartenders in New Orleans. And there were a lot of bartenders in the city.

  He was about midway through his cocktail when one of the dancers caught his eye. She was a hot little number, with short, dark purple hair and a skirt that covered her ass and not much more. In spite of her attire, she was dancing alone and appeared perfectly content that way. He couldn't see her face but her body language said it all. She was dancing for herself and no one else, and that made it damn sexy.

  When she finally turned to face him he nearly choked on the liquid in his mouth. That was Clare dancing with her eyes closed and a blissful smile on her pretty face.

  Two coyotes were circling her, trying to figure out how to slip in for the kill. He wasn't about to let them. Tossing his drink on the end table, he bolted through the door. Squeezing through the crowd, he slipped into the tiny empty space between her and one of the coyotes, placing one hand on her shoulder and matching his body's rhythm to hers. Her eyes flashed open and registered shock when they saw him.

  "You changed your hair," he said before she could say anything. "I like it."

  "I needed a change."

  "I understand. You look absolutely gorgeous." Her smile was both sassy and shy. "You know you have a couple stalking predators," he told her, indicating the coyotes sulking at the edge of the dance floor.

  She turned to look at them. "And you thought you'd rush in to protect me?"

  His body rolled with the music and she mimicked him perfectly, keeping her hips close to his. "Something like that."

  "Because you're less of a predator?"

  His hand moved from her shoulder to the small of her back, pulling her in closer. "For you, I'm the good kind of predator. Trust me. You'll like it when I eat you."

  She laughed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. The gestures might have been dismissive; her body language was anything but. She closed the miniscule distance between them, keeping her body pressed against his as she took control of the dance with a suggestive sway of her hips. She moved like liquid silk, luring his body to forget it had bones and follow her. It was easy to do and he would have happily given up his bones to do it.

  As the song shifted to more aggressive tune, she took his hand and led him from the dance floor. "Come on. Let me buy you a drink."

  * * * *

  Clare felt like the most powerful woman in the universe as she guided Darus toward the back bar. Sure he was full of swagger, and probably had a dictionary filled with pickup lines, but there was something about the way he looked at her made her feel sexier than she ever had. And despite what Julia said, at this moment she felt like he would do anything for her. He could probably make her come a dozen times, too. If she decided to take it that far.

  She wasn't a sexually inhibited girl by any means, nor was she opposed to a casual fling. But she didn't make a habit of it either. Tonight though, all bets were off. She wanted to be crazy. She needed to be crazy. And getting dirty with Darus was exactly the crazy she needed.

  They ordered drinks and when she went to pay, he put a hand over the money to stop her. "I told you I'd buy you a drink," she said.

  "Let me get it."

  "Are you trying to be chivalrous or something?"

  "Me? Chivalrous? Please. They just give me the hookup on drinks."

  His expression was completely neutral as he nodded to the bartender, but something about the way he casually sipped his cocktail told her he was full of shit.

  She smiled inwardly. She knew a cover when she saw one. Why he constantly played the bad guy when he was so obviously not was one mystery she'd like to solve.

  "Your face looks better than I expected. The bruising really brings out your eyes."

  "I'm a fast healer." He gave her a sidelong glance. "Or maybe it was the soybean cold pack."

  She sat on a barstool, swirling the ice around in her glass with the straw. He didn't sit, but leaned on the bar and watched her.

  "Did you really press charges against Chris?" she asked after a moment.

  "I did. Did you file a restraining order?"

  "Not yet." He gave her a hard look. "I will, I will."

  "Please do. I don't think my face will hold up if I have to get between you and Chris' fist again."

  "Thanks again for that."

  "Don't mention it. So what are you doing here by yourself? Where's your entourage?"

  "I ditched them."

  "Why?"

  "Why do you think?"

  "Clare." He feigned shock. "Are you here to get frisky?"

  "Maaaybe."

  He looked at her like she was filet mignon and he was starving. "I can help you with that."

  "I'm sure you can."

  He flashed his teeth in a grin. "I do like your hair." He looked around her head at the back. "There's less to pull, but I can improvise."

  "You don't stop, do you?"

  "I won't stop until your blood is in my mouth and my cock is inside you."

  "Fat chance." But her core definitely clenched at the thought. She took another drink. She had to admit, she'd put on this skirt tonight with him in mind.

  "Which part?"

  "All of it."

  "You can't tell me you aren't turned on right now."

  "No." But her voice caught in her throat.

  He leaned close. "I can smell your arousal, Clare."

  "That's the patchouli."

  He chuckled. "Really? So your panties aren't soaked right now?"

  "Who says I'm wearing panties?"

  His fingers dropped to her thigh. "So if I slid my hand under your skirt, what would I find?"

  She bit her lip. His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingering on the teeth pressed into her lower lip. He moved in closer, his hand slowly inching higher. She found her legs parting for him.

  He lifted his gaze to hers, his gray eyes lustful. Keeping her lip firmly clamped between her teeth she grinned.

  It was all the invitation he needed. His hand reached the top of her thigh. "You lied to me. Not only are you wearing panties, they're drenched." His thumb brushed across her clit—swollen and aching behind the satin fabric. "I want to make you come on this barstool," he said into her ear while his thumb continued to rub over her sex.

  Her legs parted wider, inviting him in.

  She kept her knees pointed toward the bar, away from the dance floor, and Darus positioned his body in such a way that casual observers would never know what was happening. If the bartender walked over though...

  This was exactly the crazy she needed. It was exhilarating to do something so taboo. Her body was hers to command. No one—not Chris or Julia or Armand—could tell her how to use it. And if she wanted to let this gorgeous, somewhat dangerous man expertly stroke her clit in the middle of a crowded bar she could. And she would.

  His free hand resting on her shoulder, the side of his head pressed against hers, he rubbed her sex with the perfect amount of pressure. The
more his thumb circled her clit, the harder it was for her to resist rolling her hips against his touch.

  "You're really good at that," she murmured.

  "It would be better if I could be inside you."

  The proposal made her squirm, even though she did her damnedest to keep the motion subtle. "What if someone comes by?"

  "That just makes it hotter."

  God, it did. The thought of some stranger catching him fingering her shot heat straight to her core. Something Darus seemed to pick up on.

  "You are so damn sexy," he purred. "Can I? Please?"

  Her legs drifted even further apart. He slid a finger under her panties and into her, moaning quietly. His thumb continued to rub her now exposed flesh and the sensation of his skin against her skin made her want to rip her clothes off and spread herself as wide as she could for him.

  She was surprised no one seemed to notice them. But even though his finger pumped in and out of her it was hidden beneath her skirt, and his body blocked the view. She caught sight of the bartender and was pretty sure she knew, but the woman didn't seem inclined to interrupt.

  "Clare," he purred in her ear. "You don't know how beautiful I think you are, or how amazing... And so sexy. You smell like heaven, feel like heaven. I'm sure you taste like heaven."

  She wanted to comment but the only thing that would come out of her mouth if she opened it was a moan. His silky words were like an aphrodisiac. Chris spent so much time tearing her down, it felt so good to be built back up.

  "You are making me so fucking hard."

  She grabbed the top of his pants, wanting to pull his hips in so she could feel his erection against her thigh. Her fingers brushed against something protruding from the top of his pants and realized with a surge of wetness it was his cock, thick and hard, reaching all the way to his navel.

  "Oh my God…" she breathed. Reaching through the gaps between the buttons on his shirt, she traced the tip with her thumb, the pre-cum coating the head of his cock making the perfect lubricant. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to yank his shirt open so her tongue could replace her thumb. Or better yet, her mouth. And she didn't just want the tip, she wanted the whole, glorious length in her mouth. She couldn't wait to get him alone so she could show him she didn't have a gag reflex.

  The thought sent her over the edge. As she started to come, her lips parted, ready to let loose the cries of pleasure she couldn't contain. Darus immediately covered her open mouth with his, sliding his tongue into it as her core milked his finger and his thumb massaged her clit into pure ecstasy. She returned his heady kiss eagerly, happy to have the distraction of his soft lips against hers and his skilled tongue in her mouth to keep the moans in the back of her throat.

  When her orgasm finally subsided, he eased his fingers from her, carefully keeping her covered. Her breathing heavy, her body like jelly, she met his gaze.

  He smiled. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

  "Finger me?"

  "Kiss you."

  She couldn't help laughing, although it sounded more like panting. "But not finger me."

  He lifted his hand to his mouth and nonchalantly tasted his fingers. "Mmm, that too."

  His hard cock brushed against her thigh, she bit her lip, their eyes met, and moments later her back was pressed against the wall of a private room. Using his boot to spread her feet apart, he caught her knee and lifted, pushing her skirt up and pulling the crotch of her panties aside.

  She heard the tear of a foil wrap. "I'm on the pill," she told him.

  "I respect you too much to fuck you without a condom." He adjusted his pants, rolled on the condom, and then seconds later he was inside her, filling her to the brim.

  "Holy shit."

  "Amen."

  His generous cock teased every nerve, stroked every sensitive part. Like his fingers, his hips had an expert rock and roll that knew exactly how to brush her clit, tease her G-spot, and generally send her into pleasure overdrive with every stroke. She doubted she was the first girl he'd ever fucked in this room against this wall but didn't care. He was exactly what she needed. He looked like heaven, felt like heaven, and was about to make her come. Hard.

  This time he didn't cover her mouth with a kiss when she started to cry out. He pushed her knee up higher, bent and pressed his teeth against her neck as his orgasm slammed into her.

  The tiny amount of pain from his gentle bite sent her orgasm into overdrive. She ground her hips against him, wanting to feel every inch of his flesh inside her.

  He helped her out with a few more expert strokes even though she knew his orgasm was finished. When her moans and hips subsided, he finally pulled out of her, sliding the condom off, tying it into a quick knot, and tossing it into the trash.

  "That was just what I needed," she murmured.

  "Glad to be of service," he said as he buttoned up his black and brown striped slacks.

  "It was good for you?" She felt inexplicably self-conscience, like she somehow didn't measure up to the girls he'd banged there before.

  Cupping her ass, he pulled her close. He wrapped his fingers though the short hair at the back of her head and kissed her hard. "You were a-fucking-mazing. In fact, I'd like to take you home where I can make love to you properly."

  "That can probably be arranged." She ran a hand over her neck. The skin was intact. She was shocked to realize she was disappointed. She didn't think she'd want him to actually bite her. The last time a guy had suggested such a thing she was repulsed. It seemed to be working for Julia, Kate, and Detective McCoy, though, so maybe she should give it a whirl. The idea of Darus biting her then fucking her hard sounded…intense.

  "You didn't break the skin."

  "I know. I respect you."

  "Maybe I really wanted to get bitten, or fucked without a condom."

  "Well, fucking without a condom in private can be arranged."

  "But not public?"

  "Containing my own mess is the respectful thing to do."

  "Ah, so you care enough about me you don't want jizz running down my leg. How thoughtful."

  "At home, watch out. Cum all over the place. I'll even get it in your hair if that's what you want."

  "I do." She maintained a perfectly serious expression.

  He laughed out loud.

  "What about the biting?"

  "I don't see you that way, Clare."

  "What do you mean? I thought you liked to bite. That's the word on the street."

  "Not with you." Her stomach clenched with irrational jealousy. After all, this was just a casual fling. "It's a victim thing. I don't see you as my victim. Now if you really want to Donate, we'll do it properly. Safely."

  "Okay." She couldn't believe it, but she was looking forward to it. She bounced her eyebrows at him. "I'd love to go back to your place. When do you want to go?" It didn't occur to her to be wary of him. From what she could tell, the biggest risk was some major soreness.

  His gray eyes were intense when they fell on her. "Ten minutes ago."

  Chapter Eight

  His place was a short walk from the club, on the opposite side of Bourbon from La Luxure, but still in the Quarter. They had some great convo on the way over. Darus didn't ask the normal getting to know you questions; they weren't needed. They clicked on every level: humor, music, which random strangers to quietly poke fun of… It was like they'd been friends for years.

  Once they reached his house, they passed through a narrow gate that opened to a courtyard filled with so many tropical plants it was like a jungle. A small fountain and some patio furniture were fighting the greenery for space.

  Decorated with items that looked imported, the inside of his house was exotic, worldly, and classy. She ran her fingers through the braided tassels of a hanging ceramic globe painted in Arabic style, and then turned to him. "They must love you down at the import store."

  "I work there part time just to get the discount."

  She picked up a very African looking
sculpture. "You must really like to travel."

  "I do. Or I did. Not a lot of opportunity for it lately."

  "Your parole won't last forever." She returned the statue to its stand and scanned the room. "Aren't you an author?"

  "Of fine horror stories on bookshelves near you."

  "Hmm, looking at your place, the phrase, 'starving artist' does not come to mind."

  "Well, I started life as a trust fund douche bag. I might be an outcast among my country club loving family, but grandma still threw me a healthy bone when she passed. And then I managed to write a couple successful books—probably more luck than skill, but I do make a good living at it now."

  "Nice."

  She continued her self-guided tour of his house with only one goal in mind. She removed her holster purse and set it on the hardwood table, peered briefly into the granite bathroom before turning and heading into one of the bedrooms, peeling off her shirt and tossing it on the floor behind her.

  * * * *

  Darus knew he was grinning like a fool as he watched Clare's bare back disappear into his bedroom. Damn, she was one amazing woman. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of her.

  He followed her into the bedroom, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw her laying naked on his bed, her head tipped back and draped over the edge.

  "Beautiful," he breathed as his eyes took in all of her exposed flesh: her taut stomach, smooth, curvy legs, soft breasts, the intricate tattoo covering half her torso…

  "Yeah? Why don't you come closer so you can get a better look."

  When he was a few feet from her, she reached over her head and grabbed his belt, pulling him in. Even upside down, she quickly and expertly undid his belt, and then his pants, freeing his instantly erect cock.

  "This is what I want." With one hand, she cupped his balls, using them like a handle to coax him in closer. Her free hand wrapped around his cock and guided it into her mouth, forcing him to brace his hands on the mattress on either side of her hips. She moved her hands to the sides his ass, gripping and pulling until the entire length of his cock disappeared into her warm, wet mouth. With her head tilted back, her throat opened and lined up perfectly, allowing him deep penetration.