And tonight he did. His tongue brushed against her clit, sending a little shock wave through Amy’s body. Her hips shuddered, her legs twitched…and then he drove his tongue deep inside her, seeking whatever it was he wanted to find there. She really didn’t care; that tongue did magic things to her, sent her quaking and shivering into another wave of pleasure.
Clutching one tit, pulling at her own nipple, she threw her head back, grunting as she came again and again, as Riley’s diligent efforts to apparently remove all traces of his own come sent her on that giddy rollercoaster ride of ecstasy.
He finally stood up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, looking down at her, his expression unreadable. She never knew where the Riley who sat at the bar went, but he sure wasn’t the guy with her in the storeroom.
For many reasons, Amy had never bitten Riley. For one thing, he never hugged her, never faced her, so easy access was out of the question. Plus he was wicked fast, spinning her around or picking her up. She could have easily outmaneuvered him, but she really didn’t want to force the issue, not with Riley.
But most of all, she just didn’t want to add another dimension to his strange life. And the sex from him was enough to cut him that little bit of slack.
The routine after that was the same; he’d silently leave first, head to the men’s. Amy would try her damndest to recover, but she usually returned to the bar with shaky knees and trembling hands. It occurred to her at times like this, for a vampire, she certainly wasn’t all that dominant during sex.
She remembered back over the centuries, to her encounters with vampires, those whom she’d taken into her bed. The sex had been so powerful, so long-lasting, so utterly fucking amazing…but she’d been an equal with them in many ways, feeding from them as they fed from her, both in blood and in pleasure. She’d used her strength and speed with them, and the result had always been incredible.
Here, she’d learned to be what was expected of a mortal woman; a little less controlling, not so dominant. No demonstrations of vampiric strength or speed. It made her smile to wonder what Riley…or Luke…would do if she suddenly came out as a vampire during sex, took them for the ride of their lives. She’d probably leave them a wrung-out wreck if she went all out with them.
Shaking her head, she went back to the bar. If she didn’t exert some kind of control over herself, the men in the town would all be dead by now, and not from her having drunk their blood. They would all have died in her bed, no doubt with a huge smile on their face, completely unable to survive the totally unreserved vampire Amy could be.
Pete was talking with the few customers clustered at the other end of the bar. Riley came back, finished his drink and ducked his head shyly at her as he headed out into the dark.
Amy stood by the window, watching him walk down the dark street, out of the circle of light cast by the only streetlight in town. Other than Riley, the street was quiet, like always.
She was just turning when she saw movement across the street, a darker shadow among shadows. Frowning, she tried to make out what it was, but even with her excellent night vision, she couldn’t see anything.
Shrugging she turned back to the bar. She missed Luke, wondered if he was home, sleeping with his wife, if they’d had sex. It didn’t do her any good to think like this, she reminded herself. It just made her sad.
The next couple days dragged without the prospect of seeing Luke. Amy was distant with Pete taking one guy to the backroom for sex and a bite. He was a commercial businessman, someone passing through town. That alone made him a novelty; no one came through Harker Hill accidentally. Turned out he’d been lost, gotten off on the wrong exit from the Interstate. But after his session in the backroom with Amy, she thought he was a little less upset about his unexpected detour.
But after he left, she could barely remember anything about him, much less the sex. She’d drunk heavily from him though. She thought it was akin to a mortal drowning their sorrows in booze; she was drowning her longing for Luke in someone else’s blood.
It was almost closing time when she saw the shadow figure again. She’d taken the trash out the back door, pausing to look up at the stars. Movement at the corner of her vision caught her attention and she turned, just catching sight of what looked like the figure of a man ducking into the shadows of the building next door.
She thought for a moment it was Riley, lurking outside for some reason. Odd behavior from him would be, well, odd, but no unexpected.
“Riley? That you? Come on out if it is…” She heard her voice echoing in the darkness.
“Riley’s sitting in his usual spot.” Pete was behind her, standing in the light from the open doorway.
“Oh…yeah.”
“Something wrong, Boss? You seeing ghosts or something?” He barked out a laugh.
“Yeah…maybe. Thought I saw something behind Barnard’s store.”
“Probably a coyote or dog…”
“Yeah…sure. Dog.” Amy didn’t think many dogs walked on two legs and were over six feet tall, but she let it pass.
“Well, enough fun for tonight. You want to head home, Pete, you can. There’s not enough here for the two of us to do. Riley’s probably on his way out the door any minute.”
Pete nodded, turning back into the bar. She walked slowly out into the desert, which started pretty much at the back door of the bar.
“Come out, come out, whoever you are,” she whispered into the darkness. “Show yourself.”
***
The next night Amy was crouched behind the bar, fiddling with the temperamental cooler when she heard the door open. Too soon for Pete; he’d called to say he was running late. It wasn’t quite opening time either, just dark outside, but still early.
Her heart gave a thump, Luke flashing through her mind. She knew it was too early by a day or so, but maybe…
When she stood, it wasn’t Luke on the other side of the bar though. It was a tall stranger, wearing a battered leather jacket, faded jeans and a shirt open at the collar, carrying a faded canvas backpack.
Amy felt the eager grin fade from her face, replaced by what she hoped was a welcoming smile that covered her disappointment.
“Sorry I’m not who you expected.” The stranger took a step forward, setting the backpack on the counter.
Amy felt his eyes traveling over her body and for the first time in ages, literally, she felt uncomfortable, like she wanted to cross her arms over her breasts.
“Um…yeah. Thought you were someone else. Sorry. Can I get you something to drink?” She forced herself to put her hands on the bar, to keep from crossing them over her chest.
“Water, for now.” His eyes were locked with hers and something wild stirred in the pit of her stomach. Vaguely familiar but disconcerting.
She cocked her head, a long-dead and distant image flashing through her mind.
“Do I know you?”
The stranger smiled, a wicked little grin turning up one corner of his mouth.
“Not sure. Do you?” He pulled out a barstool, sliding gracefully onto it.
“Are we playing twenty questions?”
The man laughed, a deep rich sound. Amy felt her own lips curving into a smile, despite trying to fight it back.
“You don’t know me. But I know you, Amy.” He leaned his elbows on the bar, his smile deepening.
“You do? How?” Amy could hear the panic in her voice; if he was a hunter, her little gig here was up. She’d be sporting a stake through her newest blouse. He was evasive, cagey, smelled fantastic…Wait. Why do I care what he smells like?
“Not so fast…I’m not giving in that easy. You’ll have to earn the answer.”
“Earn? What the hell…” Amy’s anger flared, her voice rising.
“You need help, Amy?” Riley was standing behind the stranger, his face creased with a frown. Amy hadn’t seen him come in, she rarely did. He just seemed to materialize.
“No, we’re fine here.” The stranger flashed a look at Riley.
“I think I’m the one to decide if we’re fine. And I’m not so sure we are…”
But Riley was no longer standing behind the stranger. He was lying on the floor, a trickle of blood running from his nose.
“What the hell have you done?” Amy ran from behind the bar, kneeling beside Riley, feeling for his pulse, not finding one. She was momentarily distracted by the blood on his face.
But now, she was upset and when she was upset, she got hungry, and he was there, bleeding…she ran her finger through the blood, licking the precious liquid from her finger. It made her briefly swoon.
She realized the stranger was standing behind her, leaning over her shoulder and watching her. She straightened, swinging her fist with all her might at his head.
But she connected with nothing but thin air, almost falling down from the effort. She felt the stranger’s arms around her body, holding her up.
For the briefest moment she was crushed against his chest, all heaving breasts and parted lips. And in that moment, her body went electric, an erotic current running through her like it never had. She blinked as a wave of dizziness passed through her and then shook her head. Get a grip, Amy. There’s a dead guy on the floor here.
The stranger was smiling at her, obviously enjoying either holding her or her confusion. She pushed roughly away from him, almost tripping over Riley’s body.
Amy’s eyes went wide. “What are you?”
“I’m like you, Amy.”
“You’re like…me?” She was slowly recovering her composure. “And what am I?”
“You’re a ‘creature of the night’ a ‘blood-sucking leech’ or how about just…vampire?”
Amy closed her eyes, another wave of dizziness passing through her, then thought better of doing that in front of this guy.
“You’re not like me…” But she watched as he smiled, his fangs clearly evident, almost sparkling white in the dimness of the bar. Toothpaste ad. The inane through popped into her mind.
She sighed. “So you’re a vampire. Look, this is my turf, so you can leave now. There’s not enough blood in this town to go around.”
“But it’s not blood I’m after, Amy. It’s you.”
Amy’s eyes went wide. “Me? Why me?”
“I knew Antoine.”
If it could have, Amy’s blood would have gone cold. It had been centuries since she’d heard the name.
Antoine had been her lover, her one-and-only, back in the day…back in Scotland of all places. Ancient history.
“How? When?”
“I was at Castle Leod. They called him Lochlainn then; the stranger. You weren’t Amy; you were Lildh…Lily. The two of you managed to remain among an entire clan of Scottish Highlanders and not be discovered. Quite a feat.” He looked around.
“I guess you’re repeating history then, doing the same here in the middle of nowhere. I assume no one knows your dark little secret.”
He looked at her appraisingly. “You’ve lost nothing of your beauty, Amy. You’re just as lovely here in the desert as you were in the Highlands. Just with shorter hair.”
“Don’t flirt with me. But I don’t remember you at all. Where were you? How…” Her thoughts were a mess. She’d managed to push most of the memories of Antoine out of her mind.
“I wasn’t a vampire…then; I was a MacKenzie clansman, traveling through. Antoine turned me…accidentally. He said he intended to let me go, since I was supposed to be on my way, and no one would be the wiser. But he got a little carried away.”
Amy started. Antoine had never told her anything about turning anyone. They’d been so very careful not to be discovered.
“He felt bad, if it’s any consolation. But once I’d turned, I didn’t leave. We became close, as close as I wanted to be with the creature who made me what I am. I think he felt sorry for me, wanted to make it up somehow.” The man shook his head.
“Anyway, he talked about you, a great deal. He was very much in love with you. When you two were discovered and left, I stayed behind for a time, but it was hard. I missed Antoine. So I tried to follow you, but lost the trail. And then…”
“And then Antoine was killed. And I came here…” She looked down, sudden tears pricking her eyelids. When the hell was the last time I cried…for Antoine or anyone else. Or for myself.
“I followed the trail to France. And found the hunter who had killed him. That hunter is dead now.”
Amy looked up. “Oh. Well, I suppose I should thank you.”
“But you disappeared from the face of the earth.” He looked around. “Really fell off the face of the earth.”
“Yeah…this place suits me though.”
The sound of the hinge squeaking made Amy jump. Pete…oh, shit.
“You…” She pointed a finger at the man. “What the hell is your name, anyway?”
“Oh…I was Robbie then, Robert now. Never changed it much…didn’t see the need.”
“Okay, Robbie…Robert. Whatever. We need to move Riley’s body. Help me.”
Robert looked down at Riley’s body briefly, then picked him up, tossing him over his shoulder, moving toward the storage room.
“Oh, wait…not there.”
“Why on earth not? Who cares if there’s a dead guy in your storage room?”
“Um…well, long story. Take him upstairs, first room on the left. It’s a second bedroom. He’ll be okay there till we…and I say ‘we’ because you’re going to help me…deal with his body later. God, I hate saying that.”
Robert was shaking his head. “Fine. Your bar, your rules.”
She watched him as he disappeared up the stairs, Riley’s head bobbing loosely against his back. Pete was still banging around at the door and she heard his muffled shout.
Amy pulled the door open. Pete was on the other side, his hands full of boxes and hose.
“Sorry, Boss. Too much stuff here. I got parts for the cooler…” He stopped, staring at Amy.
“You okay, Boss? You’re…well, there’s blood.”
Pete was looking at the floor. Amy followed his gaze. There was a small pool of blood on the worn wood floor.
“I…cut my hand.” She held up her finger…the finger she’d run through Riley’s blood, tasted his blood with.
“Oh…well.” Pete moved closer, looking from her finger to the pool on the floor. “Seems like a lot of blood for a scratch.”
“Yeah…I guess.”
“I’ll get the mop and clean this up then.” Pete moved past her, setting his load of paraphernalia on the bar, disappearing into the store room.
Amy heard a noise behind her. Robbie…Robert…whoever…was coming back into the bar. He took a quick look at Amy, grabbed his backpack and headed for the door.
“Later…I’ll be back.”
And he was gone.
Amy was still standing in the middle of the bar when Luke walked in. Never in all her long years had she been so glad to see anyone…
“Hey, Amy. What’s wrong? You look upset.” Luke stopped in front of her, hand on her arm.
Without warning, Amy burst into tears. When was the last time I cried? For Antoine? For myself…
Luke pulled her to him, holding her against his chest, and murmuring soft words into her hair. Pete came into the bar with the mop and pail and Amy pulled away, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.
“Um…well…I guess I missed you.” There was no way to tell Luke any of what had happened. All she could do was put on a smile and carry on.
“She cut herself.” Pete was mopping the floor, the mop pushing the congealing blood around on the floor. Amy watched, drawn to the swirling red. A wave of hunger passed through her; hunger for blood but also for Luke, for the solid comfort of his body, his smell, everything about him.
“Come on… Hey, Pete?” She took his hand, pulling him behind her.
“Yeah…I got this.” Pete kept mopping, not bothering to wave.
Luke started toward the storeroom but she turned
up the stairs.
“It’s almost time for the bar to open, Amy. And I gotta get the rig…” His voice was quiet. She stopped on the bottom step, turning toward Luke.
“Yeah. I know.” She looked into his eyes and for the first time since she’d known Luke, she thought about controlling his mind, making him stay, give up his wife…all the things she wanted. The thought was there in an instant and in that instant, she reached out to his mind.
Luke shook his head. “Okay. Yeah…I’ve got all the time in the world for you, Amy. You know that. I’d move heaven and earth for you.”
The look on his face changed. It wasn’t the Luke she knew, it was a slavishly devoted looking Luke, one who looked like a love-sick puppy. Amy shook her head, instantly letting go of Luke’s mind.
“Uh…Amy? Did you say something?”
“No, Luke. Come on.” She continued up the stairs.
As soon as the door was closed, Luke pulled her to him, holding her for a moment.
“I missed you, Amy. More than I thought I would.” He held her face in his hands, looking down at her.
All the pent up emotion from Robert’s visit, Riley’s death…it all came rushing out of Amy. She pulled Luke down to the bed, twisting around until he was beneath her. She fought her way out of her jeans and shirt, pressing her naked body against him, his chest beneath her hands, her legs straddling his narrow hips.
His erection was already straining against the tight crotch of his jeans and with a practice hand, she reached between them, popping the snap and working the zipper down. Her hand slid beneath the denim, finding his cock, tugging it free of his pants.
Luke grunted. “Easy there, darling. It is attached to me, you know.” He raised his body, sliding is jeans down his hips.
“Easier access…just what I want.” Amy slid down Luke’s body, her lips finding his neck…resisting the urge to just sink her fangs into his jugular vein. Not yet…not just yet…
She kissed a line down his chest, pulling one hard brown nipple into her mouth. She felt more than heard Luke moan, his pulse quickening beneath her lips, the blood hot and tempting.
But she quickly moved her lips lower, over his stomach, down to his navel, circling it with the point of her tongue, teeth nipping the tight edge. Luke’s cock was brushing against her breasts, tickling her skin. Without raising her head, she slid his cock between her breasts, pushing them together with her hands, the softness of her breasts surrounding his hard shaft.
The Girl Who Bites Page 2