by Michele Hauf
“It was interesting.” She strolled the glossy floor, her heels clicking smartly. She felt light, and her body swayed drunkenly. “But I think that faery was blowing smoke about the gown. How can they know if you only told the one guy? And you didn’t tell him. He just guessed.”
“They know. Trust me, they know. Come here.”
Spun about from behind, she turned into Vail’s embrace. He rubbed her cheek and showed her the faery dust on his finger.
“Is that going to sink in and make me high?”
“Shouldn’t, but…” He studied her eyes. “You have a little buzz going, don’t you?”
“I think I do.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “Wanna take advantage of me?”
He licked her cheek, dragging his tongue to the corner of her eye where he pressed a kiss. When he clasped her head below her ear, Lyric had enough sense to move his hand away.
“You get off on the dust, don’t you?”
Vail rubbed his fingers together. “Last time I got high from this stuff I was a kid.”
“I don’t believe that. You’re in a constant state of high. You’re…maintaining. Vampires don’t need to feed the hunger until puberty. Did you not get a high when you started drinking ichor?”
“Yes, but I think I’ve forgotten how good it could be.”
“You are addicted.”
“Never. I think it’s because I’ve always had the dust in me, you know, growing up in Faery.”
“Uh-uh.” If that’s the way he wanted to play it.
She spread her hands up his shirt, marveling at his tight chest. Muscles and might, her bad boy. All the necessary ingredients for a good time. A silly grin felt wrong, but she couldn’t stop it. A contact high? Maybe a little. She should probably shower, but why spoil it?
“Raskin said everyone knows about me. So what do we do now?”
“You could go to your mother and ask her about the deal.”
“Out of the question.”
“What if I force you?”
“You would do that? You, who said you understood my need to be away from my family? If I go anywhere near my mother, she’ll contact Zett, and I’ll be a goner.”
“That’s the part I don’t understand. I thought you were just making the exchange. And yet, you make it sound as though Zett was going to take you in hand. Why would Zett want you? Do you know? Because I find it incredibly odd a faery would request a vampire.”
“I have no idea. The deal was between Zett and my mother.”
“And yet you agreed to the handoff. I’m not following why you would do so, knowing that vamps and faeries don’t mix, and you have to know it’s a literal death play.”
“Vail, I told you I’d no intention of ever going to Zett. So drop it, will you?”
Because she wasn’t ready to tell him her secret, and if she played her cards right maybe she’d never have to tell. It was so embarrassing.
You were young. You didn’t know better.
Vail paced the floor. “Maybe I should be going at this from the vamp angle instead of the faery angle.”
“Sounds complicated to me. I mean, for a man who is a vampire yet thinks he’s a faery, won’t that be a challenge? Maybe you need to rest your brain after inhaling all that faery dust?”
“Insult me all you like. I’m not letting you get away until this mystery is solved and I get—”
“You get?”
“You think I’m not getting something out of this deal?”
“Of course not. So what do you get when the gown is found and the vampiress is returned to her family?”
He drew his hands from her shoulders to cup her breasts. The thin fabric felt like skin on skin. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little shoes over. Right now, I want to forget about what we did wrong, and instead react to whatever comes up. Mmm, like your nipples.”
She wasn’t going to allow him the easy win. Not this time.
He bent and bit them gently through the fabric.
On the other hand, she really didn’t want to waste what little high she may be riding. “Yeah, sounds right. Whatever comes up. Why don’t you do that thing you do…”
“I do a lot of things, sweetie. You have to be more specific.”
“You know, with your fingers? And me…” She moved his hand over her mons. He tugged up the short skirt and the heat of him against her skin melted her shoulder against his and she sighed.
“Like this?” he asked against her mouth, opening it with his lips and teasing his tongue along her teeth. His fingers teased at her moistness but didn’t enter her.
“A little deeper. Please.”
He moved her against the wall, and hiked one of her legs up to rest along his hip. She dug in the heel against his thigh and he moaned.
“Hurt me, Lyric.” His tongue dove in deeper, but not his fingers. She nudged her groin against his softly stroking fingers.
“Where?” he whispered. “How do you want me to touch you?”
She slid her fingers through his thick, dark hair and pulled him in for a brutal kiss that clicked their teeth and stole her breath, showing him she wanted it hard, rough and now.
“Like that,” she gasped, nudging her nose along his, “inside me.”
“As my lady commands.”
He stretched his hand along the leg she had hooked at his hip and drew it high to rest her ankle against his shoulder. “You’re limber.”
She tucked her other leg around his hip. “I work out on the silks.”
“Your mother mentioned that. What are silks?”
“Aerial silks. It’s a hobby of mine I learned years ago.”
“Hence, the circus?”
“Yep. We don’t need to chat, lover boy.”
“Of course not.” He buried his face in her hair and found her moist heat with his fingers.
Lyric wasn’t sure if it was the faery dust or Vail’s expert skill making her woozy, but she touched oblivion a minute later. And as her body pulsed with orgasm and she dug her fingernails into Vail’s shoulders, she felt him enter her, hot and hard and heavy. He moaned as her inner muscles clasped him and brought him to a quick climax.
She’d lost this round. So sue her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LYRIC ROLLED OVER, her feet tangled in the soft gray cotton sheets. Beside her, Vail slept, or at least his eyes were closed. Vampires didn’t need much sleep so she couldn’t be sure, but she didn’t want to disturb him yet.
She studied the hard angles of his face. Square jaw dusted at the edges with a hint of stubble and defined cheekbones emphasized his sure, rugged beauty. That straight, defiant nose must be the first thing people noticed, until her eyes fell to his mouth.
Soft, and slightly open in sleep, she felt a shimmer scurry through her to imagine those lips at her nipple again. It wasn’t like the shimmer two vampires felt when first touching. Now she thought on it, that hadn’t occurred.
What was that about? When two vampires touched, a tingly sort of shimmer ran through their system. It was the only way they could tell one another without seeing them drink blood or flash fangs. And she hadn’t felt it with Vail. Not even now as she traced her fingers lightly down his rock-hard biceps.
Had it something to do with living in Faery all his life? Probably all the faery ichor he’d consumed had worked a real number on this guy. He believed his own kind were filthy and not worth his alliance, and he wore that belief like armor designed to repel any who would challenge him. That was so sad.
And yet, she’d breached his defenses with an ease that still surprised her. She bet it surprised him, too.
Vail’s arm was turned to expose the underside. A thick blue vein ran the length. She leaned in, inhaling with closed eyes. He had that compelling sweat-after-sex scent she loved, yet it wasn’t salty but sweeter, which she again attributed to the ichor in his system.
Enticed by the thickness of his vein, her fangs descended. She could hear the blood running beneath Vail’s skin, a
delicious symphony of platelets and cells. It smelled like sin. It wasn’t like mortal blood, which reeked of food (though there was nothing wrong with that; she loved drinking from a mortal who had imbibed wine or chocolate).
Vail’s sweet allure tingled at the back of her throat and wet her tongue. His pulse thrummed but did not match hers, which tapped faster against her skin.
Mercy, but she wanted to taste him. To feel the liquid heat of Vail sliding down her throat. She bet it would warm her entire body, probably even coax her to orgasm. The man walked, talked and breathed sex, and she wanted to taste the source.
“Go ahead,” he murmured.
A glance to the pillow. Deep azure eyes watched her. She could lose herself in Vail’s smoldering gaze—and then she realized she was already lost.
Dashing her tongue along the length of one fang, she averted her attention to his arm. Below her fingertips his blood spoke to her. Thump, thump. “Are you serious?”
“I don’t mind you drinking from me. I think it would feel great.”
The blood swoon, a giddy dash into pseudo-orgasm, was the reward no matter if you were the biter or the bitten. “So you’ve never been bitten before?”
“Nope.”
“Because you don’t like vamps.”
“Yep.”
“So how can you know it’ll feel good? And why me?”
“Why are you questioning beyond the sale, sweetie? I said you could bite me. Shouldn’t that be enough?”
It should be, but somehow it didn’t feel right. His nonchalant invitation felt forced, if not a downright tease. And they did take joy in teasing each other.
Lyric toyed with the thick vein, pressing it with a fingertip. His strong pulse beckoned. “But you won’t drink from me.”
“You know I’m not interested.”
“Not interested, or…afraid you might like it too much?”
He didn’t answer, and instead closed his eyes.
“You don’t want to taste real blood,” she whispered. “Because you’re addicted to ichor. You believe nothing can compare.”
“It’s just—”
“Maintaining, I know. Whatever. The addict is always the last to admit to it.”
“Calling me names again? And after I gave you three insane orgasms.”
“Actually, it was four.” She kissed his vein but resisted its tempting timpani. “I want to bite you, Vail. I’d love to swallow your blood as you are pumping your thick, oh-so-hard cock deep inside me. But I want you to do the same to me.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too. Besides, I couldn’t drink from you now if I wanted to. You’re full of ichor.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I bet if I cut you, you’d bleed ichor.”
He rolled to face her and as he did so pressed his wrist to a fang and opened the vein. Thick, red blood oozed out. He held it before her as an offering.
Like dark candy displayed behind barbed wire, the sweetness bloomed, filling her senses. Lyric teased the air with the tip of her tongue. He would taste like nothing she had ever before put to her tongue. All that hot, red life, creaming in her mouth and slicking the back of her throat.
And yet, within the crimson drop that slid over his pale skin she noticed an unmistakable glitter.
She sat at the edge of the bed and turned her back to him. “I mean it. You get clean, get all the dust out of your system, and then I’ll rock your world.” She looked over her shoulder as a droplet splattered on the gray sheets. “Promise.”
Heading for the shower, Lyric forced herself not to look back at what she suspected was an arrogant smirk. But if she took one more look at the tempting blood, she wouldn’t be able to resist.
Ichor or no, drinking Vail’s blood could prove dangerous to her heart.
* * *
“I’M THE ONE who rocks your world,” Vail muttered as Lyric closed the bathroom door. Though he had to admit that his world had been on a wobbly course since Lyric had snuck into it on her sexy red heels.
Surprised she hadn’t latched on to his wrist the way he assumed most vampires would when presented with fresh blood, he pressed the wrist to his mouth and sucked at it to seal the wound. It didn’t taste wrong or disgusting to him. It didn’t taste like anything.
She thought he was a dust freak? He felt pity for those vamps who staggered about FaeryTown desperate for the next fix. Abandoning friends, family and life for the one elixir that could grant them a momentary high. He was nothing like them.
How to make Lyric understand ichor to him was like mortal blood to her; it sustained.
What did he care what she thought?
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he shook his head to flick away the hair from his eyes. The last time a woman had stayed over at his place—actually, that had not happened here. He hadn’t been in this realm long enough to establish a relationship. And his one-night stands always saw him leaving the woman’s house before the sun rose. He’d never reveal whether his preference was for faeries or mortal women—a guy had to keep some mystery.
The Santiago chick was harshin’ his M.O. He didn’t have to keep her around. And he didn’t need the blatant denial when he’d freely offered his blood.
Herne’s balls, yes, he did need her. Lyric was the key to finding the gown. She had it. And if she did not, she knew where it was. The clock was ticking. He had two days to find it before the Seelie court arrived to claim it from Rhys.
Not that he should care what trouble Rhys Hawkes got into, but this matter wasn’t about his half-breed uncle. Vail had taken the job and promised to do it right. A man of his word, he wouldn’t stop until it was completed.
Standing and pacing the room, he listened as the shower pattered against the glass tiles. He imagined the water rolling off Lyric’s sexy, smooth skin and then wanted to press his tongue in the wake of those droplets, lapping up jasmine and cherries until he’d sated himself.
Heading for the bathroom, he stalled in the doorway when the cell phone on the bedside table rang. He nabbed it and Rhys answered.
“What the hell were you up to last night? Need I remind you this retrieval mission was supposed to be secret?”
“Morning, Uncle. You’re up early.”
“It’s noon, Vail. I’ve been up since sunrise.”
“Guess being half werewolf helps. I, on the other hand, will always be on Faery time.”
“What the hell does that mean? I don’t care. You were out asking questions last night and now word is buzzing you’re looking for the Seelie gown, if you don’t already have it in hand.”
Vail tightened his jaw and stopped himself before kicking the bedpost with a bare foot. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Does it matter? Word is circulating, Vaillant. Rumor also tells you had the Santiago woman with you. Now how am I going to keep Charish Santiago from finding out we’ve already found her but have no plans to turn her over?”
“You can explain we need her daughter to find the gown.”
“Great. That is if the Seelie court doesn’t find out and go apocalyptic on my ass for losing the thing.”
“You should have better security, Hawkes.”
“Don’t start, boy. We have the highest security measures. I just hadn’t expected a nonfaery to steal the gown. Damn!”
Vail sighed. He didn’t need a lecture. Nor did he need a pseudofather calling him boy. But he wouldn’t deny Rhys was right. “I’ll step up the investigation. I promise I’ll have something before tomorrow—ahh!”
“What’s wrong?”
Vail grasped the female who had reached around his waist and now clutched his morning erection. “Nothing,” he forced out as calmly as possible. “Just stubbed my toe on the bed. I’ll be in touch, Hawkes.”
He tossed the phone onto the bed and put his arms back and behind him to slide around Lyric’s still wet hips, squeezing her derrière. “You know you’re on the wrong side of me, sweetie?”
“
Is that so?” She stroked his cock slowly. Water droplets from her hair ran down his chest and torso and served as a lubricant as she slicked the thick head. “Feels about right from where I’m standing.”
“You got over our little tiff.”
“I did. I’m not one of those women who make demands and who has expectations. Hell, we’ve only just met. We don’t even like each other.”
“We don’t,” he agreed, but couldn’t find the right tone to make it sound like truth.
She didn’t like him? That was a disappointment, because he couldn’t find any reason not to like her. Other than that she was holding out on him regarding the gown.
“So, enemy mine,” she said, “who was on the phone?”
Vail gasped as her motions teased climax, and she pressed her breasts against his back. He was right there, ready to come, and her hand didn’t slow, slicking faster and faster, up and down.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“More like…the ice princess got my cock.” He came, spilling over her hand and his stomach. Her other hand dug into his shoulder, the nails clawing, and it felt angry good, ratcheting up the climax another notch. “Lyric.”
“Yes, lover?”
Just. Lyric. That was all his brain could manage right now. The ice princess Lyric who knew how to get her enemy off, even after he’d vowed never to drink her blood.
He nodded toward the violet high heels tilted at the end of the bed. “Put those on.”
* * *
TWENTY MINUTES PASSED, and two orgasms later, the twosome stood in the middle of the pebble-tiled bathroom drying each other off with thick black towels.
Lyric asked again who had called, because she was curious like a cat. And she did want to know if some other woman had been calling while she was around. A sexy man like Vail probably had lots of lovers.
“Rhys Hawkes,” Vail said as he tugged her to him with the towel around her shoulders. Their bodies fit together, her nipples hugging under his hard pec muscles. “He wants me to bring you in. Rumor is spreading fast we have been seen together, which translates to most as me kidnapping you.”