by Aubrey Ross
He was waiting for an invitation and she wanted him near, wanted to hear his voice, and learn more about him. His name would be a good start. “Are you still in the mood to be mysterious? Or can we have an actual conversation?”
Meandering toward the stairs, he slipped one hand into the seam pocket of his pants. “You didn’t enjoy our conversation last night?”
“It wasn’t much of a conversation.”
“Typical conversations are so boring. Is that really what you want?”
“Yes. At the moment I could use a little boring.” He stayed at the bottom of the stairs. She hadn’t given him permission to ascend. “If you’ll put up with a few questions, I’ll try to limit them to a few.”
“Fair enough. May I join you?”
She licked her lips. “I’d like that.” Didn’t vampires have to be invited? She shook away the thought. Ray had really done a number on her this afternoon. “Can I get you a glass of wine or something else to drink?”
“Wine would be lovely.”
He followed her into the bungalow and she poured him a glass of wine. “Is your stay here business or pleasure?”
“A bit of both.”
“What sort of business are you in?”
“My interests are diversified.”
She sighed. Answers that weren’t really answers. He was humoring her. “You have no intention of telling me anything of consequence, do you?”
“What do you consider consequential?” He took a sip of his wine, his dark blue gaze caressing her face.
“What’s your name?”
“Names are unimportant. Call me whatever you like.”
“I’m going to call you history, if you continue to patronize me.”
He advanced suddenly, caging her with his body. One hand still held his wine glass, the other clasped the edge of the counter. Heat emanated from him, and his breath wafted across her lips. “Ask me something important and I’ll answer honestly.”
She stared into his eyes, challenged, yet frustrated by his evasiveness. “Why would you want to be invisible?”
He smiled and sensation curled through her, making her ache and tingle. His might be the sexiest smile ever bestowed upon a man. “I’m the eldest son in a large family. When our father died, certain responsibilities fell to me. Most of the time I thrive on the challenge, but occasionally I find the expectations stifling.”
“How old were you when your father died?”
“Seventeen.” He took another sip before continuing. “While most young men were chasing girls and tinkering with their first car, I was preventing a hostile takeover of the family business and seeing to the well-being of my brothers and sisters.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility for a seventeen-year-old.”
“I should go.” He set the wine glass on the counter, his expression inscrutable.
“You just got here.”
“If I touch you, I won’t be able to stop.”
So, don’t stop. She couldn’t bring herself to speak the words.
“Answer honestly. Do you want me here?”
How could she deny it when her whole body ached for his touch? His fierce expression demanded surrender, not cooperation. A dark thrill coursed through her. Heat pooled between her thighs.
“I want you here.”
In the span of a heartbeat, he tugged her tank top over her head and behind her back, trapping her arms. She could wiggle free if she wanted to, but his desire to restrain her heightened her arousal. He unfastened the front clasp of her bra, effectively stripping her to the waist without removing a garment.
“I can’t touch you like this.”
“I know.” He bent his dark head, suckling one breast while he stroked the other. “You should never wear clothing. Your body is too beautiful to cover.” Before she could register the significance of his statement, he pulled her shorts and panties down around her ankles.
Splaying his fingers against the back of her head, he kissed her hard and deep. With his other hand he rolled her nipples and caressed her breasts. Chelsea felt restless and vulnerable. Why was she allowing this? He was fully dressed and she didn’t even know his name.
Names are unimportant. Call me whatever you like. His words echoed as his hand slipped between her thighs. Her body responded as if they’d been lovers forever.
It’s only natural for your body to crave its mate. Ray was no help at all. How could her body have two mates?
Delano sank to his knees, both hands on her breasts. He pressed his face against the juncture of her thighs. For a long time he stayed like that, breathing in her scent, while his thumbs stroked her nipples. Chelsea trembled. He was barely touching her, yet she teetered on the brink of release.
“Yes, come for me.” His hot breath teased her damp curls. “Let me taste your pleasure.”
Had he read her mind or had he merely felt the tension in her body? His hands moved to her butt and his tongue parted her folds, finding her clit. She came hard, the spasms nearly buckling her knees. He licked and sucked, urging her thighs apart so he could reach deeper, savoring the very essence of her passion.
While her head still reeled, he stood and turned her, bending her over the center island. Her breasts connected with the tile countertop and she gasped. “That’s cold.”
“Well, this is hot.” He pushed two fingers into her slick pussy from behind, driving her farther forward. His fingers slid in and out, rocking her against the cool tiles.
Chelsea clutched the fabric of her shirt still tangled around her arms. Her response soaked his fingers and her inner thighs. She’d never been wanton or daring. What was happening to her?
She heard the rasp of a zipper then Delano slid his cock between her thighs. Oh god, he was going to fuck her like this, face down over the kitchen counter! Her pussy rippled with anticipation, eagerly awaiting his first thrust.
He pulled back and adjusted the angle of his hips. His shaft parted her folds, the blunt head nudging her clit. She moaned. Why was he teasing her? She needed his hard cock inside her, not rubbing against her.
“Clench your thighs. Squeeze me as tight as you can.”
“Why? I want you inside me. I need…”
He slipped his hands beneath her, one cupping her breast, the other her mound. His fingers rolled her nipple and rubbed her clit. Sensations zinged through her body like a pinball. She pushed back against him, rising to her toes. He slid between her thighs, refusing to fill her.
Pleasure built despite his unwillingness to enter her throbbing passage. She writhed beneath him, each wiggle bringing her closer to another orgasm. He captured one nipple between his finger and thumb, pulling and pinching until she gasped. The sensation swung from pleasure to pain and back to pleasure.
He cupped her mound and thrust harder, stroking her clit with the head of his cock. She bucked and cried out as her orgasm burst within her. He clutched her to his body and she felt him shuddering. They didn’t move for a long moment. She listened to his ragged breathing and sagged against the countertop.
“Don’t move.”
She wasn’t sure she could have gotten up if she wanted to. Her arms were still crossed behind her back and her legs felt rubbery. He turned on the water and she glanced over her shoulder. He stood at the sink wetting a dishcloth.
To her mortification, he knelt behind her and cleaned up the mess they’d made. Pausing to nip her bottom cheeks, he pulled up her shorts and turned her around. He
gave each breast a reverent kiss, then fastened her bra and righted the tank top. His mouth settled over hers for a lingering, poignant kiss. Then he looked into her eyes, his gaze clouded with emotions she couldn’t decipher.
Without breaking the tense silence, he headed for the door.
Chapter Six
Chelsea spent the next three days with Ray. They toured the island on their scooters, strolled along the beach, and found every opportunity to give each other pleasure. They kissed and touched, sometimes continuing their love play un
til they were both sated, other times enjoying the anticipation.
Their time together was wonderful, but as the sun set each evening, Ray provided a new excuse for leaving her alone. The first night she didn’t think too much of it and relaxed in her bungalow.
The second night made her suspicious. Did Ray spend his nights with someone else? Was that why he wouldn’t make love to her? Annoyed and frustrated, she donned a slinky black dress and headed to the nearest bar, hoping to find her dark-haired stranger. It had been a study in futility. How could she ask if anyone had seen him when she didn’t know his name?
The third night was even worse. After Ray deserted her, she’d decided on a long, relaxing bath. Every time she closed her eyes a different memory erupted in her mind. The stranger’s demanding kiss, Ray’s gentle hands caressing her breasts, the stranger thrusting between her thighs, while her body craved penetration. It had been the least relaxing bath of her life.
She’d awakened this morning grumpy and fatigued. The shower did little to soothe her. Working shampoo through her hair, she continued the inevitable comparisons. Ray kissed her tenderly, touched her with patience and caring, while the stranger commanded her senses. They were nearly opposite. Ray laughed and cajoled. The stranger overwhelmed her with sexual intensity. She’d experienced more pleasure in the past four days than in all the years since she lost her virginity.
“Thinking about me?”
She gasped, instinctively covering her nakedness. Ray lounged in the doorway, a sensual smile curving his lips. The shower stall was transparent. She had the bungalow to herself and the bathroom was tucked in the back corner of the master bedroom, so she hadn’t bothered closing the door.
“How did you get in here?”
“The front door was open. I called out, but no one answered. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re a hellava lot more than okay.” He pulled off his shirt, his gaze locked with hers. He was stripping! “You’re brilliant, amusing, beautiful, and utterly delectable.”
She chuckled despite the sincerity in his tone. “Is that all?” The rest of his clothes joined his shirt and he paused beside the shower door. Tall, broad-shouldered, leanly muscled, he was by far the most attractive blond she had ever seen. Her heart gave a little pang. Was he the most attractive man?
“May I come in?”
Forcing away thoughts of the dark stranger, she pushed open the shower door. He slipped his arms around her as she pulled the door shut behind him.
“This is nice.” He sighed, closing his eyes while the water saturated his thick hair. “Why haven’t we played in the shower before?”
“We’ve played just about everywhere else.” She grinned.
He didn’t reply. His lips drifted from her temple to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Definitely delectable.” Nibbling his way along her neck to her shoulder, he kept her pressed snugly against his body.
Water ran over them in teasing rivulets. She massaged his back and squeezed his butt, undeniably aware of his cock hardening between them. Her core clenched painfully. Was he finally ready to stop playing and make love to her?
He cupped one breast, framing the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Leaning down, he circled the crest with the tip of his tongue. Only when she was hard
and deeply flushed did he suck her nipple into his mouth. She smoothed his wet hair back from his face, watching as he moved from one breast to the other.
“Ray, let’s do this right,” she whispered. “There’s a king-sized bed just through that door.”
Releasing her nipple with a throaty laugh, he said, “I didn’t realize I was doing it wrong. I’ll try harder, I promise.” He knelt and eased her back into the shower spray. “Put all your weight on one leg and brace yourself against the wall.”
She shifted her weight and reached for the wall as he lifted her leg to his shoulder. Her back connected with the cold tiles and she shuddered, unable to suppress the memory. She saw herself bent over the countertop, her breasts rubbing against the tiles as the stranger thrust between her thighs. Why hadn’t he returned?
Where did Ray go every night?
Ray’s mouth pressed against her pussy, disrupting her discontent. He licked her and licked her, slow, gentle passes of his tongue. She arched, angling her hips into his torrid kiss. Using his fingers to hold her open, he drove his tongue up into her cunt. Again and again he fucked her with his tongue.
Her inner muscles fluttered and tension built. She tangled her fingers in his wet hair, never wanting it to end. With his tongue teasing the very heart of her, he flicked her clit with his finger and sent her over the edge. She cried out sharply as sensation rippled through her abdomen and up her spine.
He stayed with her until the final tingle ebbed, steadying her, caressing her. When she released her hold on his hair and lowered her leg from his shoulder, he smiled up at her.
“Just let me look at you.” Still kneeling on the shower floor, he grasped his shaft with one hand and stroked.
Chelsea had never seen a man masturbate before. Fascinated, she watched his fist slide up and down with a frantic rhythm. Why was he doing this? Was there something wrong with her?
His gaze narrowed and he groaned. She watched the first jet spurt then closed her eyes. What is wrong with me? Why would he rather…
“If I fucked you now, it would be just that. I’m not willing to fuck you.”
She opened her eyes. “Are you -- fucking someone else every night?”
He stood and framed her face between his palms. “There is no one but you.” He kissed her with enough tenderness to make her want to believe it. “I just stopped by to say good morning.”
She shook her head, aching for all he withheld. “That was one heck of a good morning.”
He grinned. “I have some errands to run. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
* * *
Ray returned that afternoon with a small package.
Chelsea met him at the door. “You brought me a present?” She looked at the gold shopping bag with obvious interest.
“Marissa told me you have a weakness for clothing, so I bought you something appropriate to the setting.”
Her eyebrows arched and she smiled. “That’s a rather small bag.”
“Yes, it is.” Hooking the braided handles over his index finger, he swung it back and forth.
“I’m almost afraid to look.” She took the bag from him and motioned him into the bungalow. They sat on the sofa as she plucked the striped tissue paper from the bag and withdrew a bright red bikini. “Oh my. I’ve never… I don’t think I have the nerve to wear this in public.”
“Model it just for me, or wear it in front of your bungalow. I’ve seen you naked, sweetheart. You will look amazing in that.”
“What is this material? It’s so soft, yet it feels almost like leather.”
“Marissa said it’s selkie skin.” He laughed. “I presume she was joking, but with Marissa you never know. Will you try it on for me? That’s all I ask. If you never wear it out of the bungalow, that’s up to you.”
She hesitated for a moment, then walked into the bedroom. Ray fidgeted on the sofa, frequently checking the position of the sun. He should have waited until tomorrow to give her the present, but patience had never been his strong suit. The transition didn’t happen at exactly the same time every day. Dawn and dusk. Delano had occasionally emerged as early as three-thirty in the afternoon, while other times Ray resisted the urge until well after dark. They spent an hour separated, usually arguing, then Delano’s body absorbed his until dawn the following day.
The bedroom door opened, interrupting his thoughts. Chelsea stood there adorned in the sleek, red bikini. Breath escaped Ray in a ragged whoosh and blood rushed to his groin, forcing him to adjust his position on the sofa. The bottom tied high on each rounded hip, setting off her shapely legs. Her tummy wasn’t perfectly flat, but the abundance of her round bre
asts demanded his immediate attention.
“I changed my mind. You’re not leaving the bungalow in that.”
She licked her lips and strolled across the room, hips gently swaying. “We’ve been driving each other crazy for days. When you joined me in the shower this morning, I thought for sure we would make love. We’ve touched each other every way a couple can touch. We’ve --”
“I could very easily prove you wrong.”
“We’ve basically done everything but what we really want to do. I don’t understand what’s holding you back. Why won’t you make love to me?”
“I will make love to you.” He kept his voice even, expressionless. “As soon as you accept what I am.”
She brushed at her bangs, her gaze steady on his face. “What is that supposed to mean?” She crossed her arms under her breasts, cocking one hip. “What are you? A foreplay junky?”
He chuckled. “I’ve been accused of worse.” Easing to his feet, he rested his hands on her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Chelsea, I’m not human.”
Twisting out of his grasp, she headed for the bedroom. “If you don’t want me, just say so. I can respect the truth.” She disappeared inside the master bathroom an
returned with a large towel wrapped around her hips. “Are you gay? Do you enjoy some things but not others? I’m not up on all the variations of modern sexuality.”
As he feared, Ray felt the pull of the moon, the start of the transition. “I want to make love to you. I need to make love to you, but there are things you must understand first. It wouldn’t be right for me to take our intimacies to the next level without your understanding.” He groaned, grasping his middle. The longer he resisted the transition, the more painful it became.
“Are you okay?” She moved slowly forward, not rushing to his side as she would have if she weren’t angry.