by C. D. Hussey
Gesturing toward the toys stacked on the shelves, she asked, "Is there one in particular you want?" She retrieved the cat-o-nine tails and held it up for him. "This one perhaps?"
He flashed his teeth at her.
"I'll take that as a yes."
She moved to stand behind him, raking the fingernails of her left hand over his skin hard enough to leave pink marks on his muscular back. He arched against it, the restraints pulling taut. She rubbed the marks, gently, softly … just as she'd seen other whip handlers do, and then began. She chose a figure-eight pattern because that seemed the easiest to control. Slowly at first, the whip lapped his skin lightly.
"Harder," he said.
She complied. A little faster, a little firmer. He dropped his head, his back widening before her, the muscles spreading and flexing.
"Harder."
She snapped the whip sharply across his back, hard enough she knew it stung, hard enough that some of the residual anger she harbored was sated, and then tossed it away. Pushing her body into him and gripping his ass, she whispered in his ear, "You don't get what you want."
His breath rushed out in an orgasmic moan. He panted a few times before turning his head to her and growling, "What do I get?"
Jesus Christ, she was going to come. If he purred like that one more time, God help her.
She pushed away from him. Out of his field of vision, she took a second to compose herself. Making him lose control was challenging her control. It was much more enjoyable than she imagined. In the future, anytime he needed to be tied up she'd be happy to oblige.
Catching sight of the leather chair positioned directly in front of him, she smiled as an idea popped into her head. "You get to watch," she told him and headed for the chair.
The implication wasn't lost on him. "Oh, fuck."
Inching her skirt up, she eased into the chair, ignoring the leather restraints as she hooked one knee over a chair arm and then the second knee over the other. His brow scrunched up and he squirmed against the ropes. As she sucked her middle finger suggestively into her mouth and slowly slid it down the front of her dress, he groaned. When that finger dipped between her legs, the groans turned to grunts. His gaze was glued to her and she wasn't sure she saw him blink once.
She closed her eyes, dipping her finger in and out of her sex and trying very hard to avoid her clit. A couple passes over the swollen organ would send her over the edge. She wanted to tease, not have an orgasm. But God it feel so good. Knowing Armand was watching her, wanting her, hard for her, certainly didn't make it feel less good.
"Do it, Julia," Armand panted between marathon runner breaths. "Come for me."
It was all the encouragement she needed. Okay, so she was giving him some control, but in that moment she couldn't help herself. Pushing every piece of sexual inhibition lingering under her skin away, she relaxed and let her body do the rest. Armand's low moans egging her on, it wasn't long before an orgasm racked her body, her torso arching, her ecstasy not exactly quiet.
She opened her eyes to the most lustful, love-filled stare Armand had ever planted on her. And possibly the largest hard-on she'd ever witnessed. His cock strained against the codpiece, the slick fabric filled and stretched to capacity.
"Release me."
Bringing her knees back together, she shook her head. "No." He said he wanted her to take control. He said he needed her to strip every ounce of it away. "I'm not finished with you." Rising from the chair, she eased her skirt back into place and approached him. When she reached him, she offered him the finger that had been inside her and he devoured it, closing his full lips over it and using his tongue to lap up every drop of her.
"Release me," he repeated when she slid the finger from his mouth.
"Like this?" Her fingers found the snaps on his codpiece and with a swift tug, she pulled the fabric free and tossed it away.
His expression was pained.
She mocked concern as her hand grazed his cock. "This isn't what you wanted?"
Writhing in the restraints, he growled, "Release me so I can tear you up."
She laughed. "In a minute," she told him as she slowly lowered to her knees.
"I want to be inside you."
"I know." She ran her tongue over the edges of the V muscles of his abs, carefully pulling the edge of his pants away in order to reach the lowest edge. When she moved from one side to the other, she brushed against his swollen cock. It bucked in response and Armand hissed. Her mouth still on his lower stomach, she lightly stroked his firm length.
"If you keep that up, I'm going to come."
She cupped his balls and squeezed. Not super hard, but hard enough. "Not yet you aren't."
He whimpered. "That isn't helping." She squeezed harder and he moaned. "That definitely isn't helping."
Letting him go, she rose. "I'm learning so many interesting things about you tonight." She grinned and brushed a kiss across his lips. "I like it."
"Release me and I'll teach you something new."
Her core clenched tight. She couldn't keep this up anymore. She wanted him inside her as much as he did.
Maintaining the act as best she could, she bent and released a leg. "I think you've earned your release." She unhooked the other leg. When she moved to an arm, she paused. "You're going to be a good boy, aren't you?"
He shook his head slowly side to side. There was something positively devilish about his expression and between it and the panting, he truly looked like a wild animal. Julia's heart thundered wildly as she began to release the first buckle holding his wrists. She had no idea what to expect from him.
The minute the leather slid free, he jerked the last restraint off and grabbed her. His hands devouring her flesh as his mouth devoured hers. He jerked her skirt up and then, cupping her ass, lifted her body up, too. Wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, Julia happily relinquished every ounce of control she'd spent the last half hour gaining.
When her back hit the wall, he buried himself deep inside her. Nothing about him was gentle, but it didn't matter. All she could feel was his passion and his need to consume her. She readily gave herself to him. He could have every piece of her. Anything. Everything. If it belonged to her, he could have it.
He roared as his orgasm pounded into her, his body shuddering violently.
And then, just like that, every ounce of tension slid from him. His breath shallow and ragged, he rested his forehead against hers. She ran her hand over his face and he nuzzled into it, kissing her palm.
He released his death grip on her thighs and she lowered her legs, her feet suddenly unsteady on the towering heels. He caressed her arms. "What do I do, Julia? Tell me what to do."
The abrupt shift didn't shock her. In some ways, she'd expected it. "Let it go," she said.
He nodded. "Close the bar."
"No. Let Slade take that over. He's more than capable. You can't close the bar. You and I both know the Community needs Luxure and not only will Slade do a great job managing it, he takes the drama in stride. And you … you can go back to school. Finish medical school, become a doctor, help the Community from another angle. Vampirism is a condition, but who is researching it? You could do it. Or, if you don't want to go there, teach. I know how much you love sharing knowledge with others." She smiled. "There's no reason to torture yourself with problems no man can solve. So … separate yourself from it."
He kissed her. "You're right. Of course." He kissed her again. "What would I do without you?"
She smoothed his hair. "I don't want to think about it."
"You won't ever have to." His kiss lingered longer this time, sweet and sensual, so different from his recent aggressive touch. "You know, if I enter the real world, I'll have to cut my hair and remove the fangs."
"I think I can make some sacrifices," she said with an exaggerated pout. She would miss the soft brown curls and his teeth, but they weren't him. They never had been. "Besides, I know you know a good fangsmith. We'
ll get you a pair for play time."
He laughed. "I love you, Julia Laroque."
"And I love you, Armand Laroque."
He planted a quick kiss on her lips and then stepped back. "Let's go dance."
"I should probably clean up."
"Just toss on those panties you stashed in your purse and call it good."
"That's so dirty. People will smell the sex all over me."
His smile was wicked. "I know. And no one will doubt you belong to me."
"I'm not sure I like this possessive side of you."
He bent and growled in her ear, "Yes you do."
With a groan she shoved him away. It felt so good to be back normal, no matter how weird their normal was. "Okay, yes, it's fucking hot. Now put your codpiece back on, show me where the bathroom is, and then buy me another drink!"
Chapter Nineteen
His hands and head bandaged, Kevin watched the Forensic team pour over the courtyard. The entire area had been taped off, pictures taken, apartments searched … and no sign of Lohr. It was like he'd vanished into thin air. It had the Forensics team spooked and Kevin listening to whispered speculations that Lohr Varius was a real vampire. He chalked it up to the date—Halloween—and the fact that there seemed to be no actual information on Lohr. According to the United States Government, he didn't exist.
He didn't know what to think anymore. At this point, he'd rather not think at all.
Without interest, he watched Johnson approach. The stout detective had a cigarette in his mouth and a ketchup stain on his shirt. Built a little like a tank, he must have played defense in high school. The number of po'boys Johnson consumed might have more to do with his lineman physique, but Kevin doubted it. Johnson was simply a solidly built man.
"You really should go to the hospital," he said as he joined him at the iron Bistro table.
"The EMTs fixed me up just fine."
"You shouldn't mess around with head injuries," Johnson told him.
"My skull is thick." It looked like the Forensics team had wrapped up their investigation and now the crime scene cleaners had arrived. With their white Hazmat suits, they looked like they were getting ready to handle some sort of biological warfare agent and not just a little blood.
"There's an APB out for Lohr and your friend, Hail. All major airports within a hundred mile radius have been alerted, as well as ports, bus-stations, you name it. We've seized all of Lohr's accounts and are tracking his credit cards and cell usage. FBI's been alerted too. He won't get far."
He had a feeling Lohr had multiple identities the police couldn't begin to imagine. For some reason he wouldn't be surprised if Lohr was halfway to Venice or something. If someone had asked him yesterday, he would have bet a thousand dollars against Lohr. Today…? Wearing shackles and handcuffs, Lohr had somehow managed to get away from an armed officer. He did not doubt how slippery that bastard could be.
"Any word on Belk?" he asked, turning his attention back to Johnson.
"He's awake. A little dazed but otherwise unhurt."
"Does he remember what happened?"
Johnson nodded. "I guess Lohr was peacefully walking along and then just turned on Belk, looping the handcuff chain around his neck and head butting him. Belk said Lohr moved so fast, he didn't have time to react. The next thing he knew he was on the ground. It looks like he was pistol whipped with his own gun."
"Damn. Well, I'm glad he isn't seriously injured."
"We did find some bloody prints on the gate. Forensics is running them."
"Hmm." It didn't seem to matter. So they'd discover the prints were Lohr's or Hail's or even another accomplice's, Kevin was sure they were all long gone. Lohr might be crazy but Darus and Hail were right. He definitely wasn't stupid. Hell, he might even be supernatural. At this point, not much would surprise him.
He took in the scene. Things were wrapping up here. Strangely enough, he didn't feel like he'd failed. He wasn't sure what else he could have done. Maybe if he'd stayed with Belk…
No, it had been prudent to check up on Hail. There was no way to know a handcuffed and shackled man would be able to take out a fully armed police officer. Not to mention an officer that outweighed Lohr by at least seventy pounds.
He rose. "I'm going to go," he said.
"You sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"
"I'm good." He turned to Johnson. "I'll see you at work. Thanks for your help tonight."
"Any time. Oh, stay home tomorrow and let your noggin heal. Your report can wait a day. I'll call you if anything comes up on Lohr."
Surprisingly, he didn't feel the need to argue. "Thanks. The report will be my final by the way. Besides Hail and Ash, there's no one else to prosecute."
"You caught one vampire at least. That's a win," Johnson said.
It sure as hell didn't feel like a win. He waved at Johnson and then headed for the exit.
The gate beneath the wall he had been painfully forced to climb was now open. He nodded to the officer on duty as he passed. There was one more place for him to visit before he could finally retire to the comfort of his bed.
Kevin watched three couples walk into the vampire bar before he finally followed them in. He had no idea what to think anymore. It was like two opposing armies had set up shop in his guts. One saw the entire vampire community as the enemy. The other…? Not only did it want to warn the patrons of La Luxure Lohr Varius was on the loose, but it also desperately wanted to snuggle up to a certain blond vampire queen.
At this point his emotions were such a fucked up mess of confusion, he had completely tuned them out. He was operating on do mode, not think mode.
In spite of a fairly packed bar, Slade noticed him the moment he walked in. The bartender served the drink in his hand and approached him. No longer wearing a sling, he held his hand outstretched in a handshake. Besides Julia Laroque, Slade was the only person in the vampire community who had ever offered to shake his hand. He would have accepted it graciously, but a quick glance at the bandages wrapped around his palms and he changed his mind, holding his hands up by way of explanation.
"I'm guessing this isn't a mummy costume." Slade gestured toward the bandages.
"I'm afraid not."
The bartender's youthful face turned serious. "What can I do for you, Detective?"
Kevin glanced around the crowded bar, taking note of Kate Miller waitressing tables in a black cat costume. "Do you have someone who can watch the bar?" he wondered, turning back to the over-muscled bartender. Slade was dressed as one of the droogs from A Clockwork Orange. "I'd really like to talk to you in private."
For a moment, Slade looked dubious. Then he spied someone and waved them over. It was a waitress with Betty Page hair and matching Betty Page outfit. Kevin recognized her from his trip to La Luxure the previous night.
"Can you tend bar for me for a sec?" he asked when she stepped into the waitress well.
"Sure thing, love."
She glanced briefly at Kevin, before she squeezed around Slade and started taking drink orders. The bartender gestured for him to follow as he pushed through two velvet curtains into a back room. When the heavy curtains falling behind him cut off the Goth rock raging the dance floor, all he could think about was Angel in her black keyhole dress.
Slade turned to him, folding his thick arms across his even thicker chest. He was leaning against a small, apartment-sized refrigerator. Kevin briefly wondered what was inside and then quickly decided it didn't matter.
"I have bad news," he started.
"Fuck. I don't think I want to know."
"You don't." He raked his hair in a nervous habit sort of way, wincing when his palms brushed a little too firmly against his scalp. "Lohr Varius has escaped custody."
"Fuck. Me," Slade spit out through gritted teeth. He paced the length of the room a couple times, the overdeveloped muscles of his arms bulging as he clenched his fists. Finally, he turned back to Kevin. "No chance I can help you track him down and beat his
ass?"
"He's long gone."
"You've checked the Bywater warehouse?"
"Yes."
"And his house in the Quarter?"
Kevin nodded. "Do you know anywhere else he might go?"
"Out of town?"
"We're on it."
"Fuck. Then, no."
"I did shoot him if that's any consolation."
"Well I guess that's good news. Except obviously it wasn't enough to take that skinny asshole down, was it?"
"Doesn't look like it."
"You know I'm not going to be happy until a couple of bullets are bouncing around in his bony skull," Slade admitted.
Kevin grinned. "I figured as much. Look, I just came here to give you a head's up. If Lohr—or Hail—show up, call the police. Don't hesitate."
"Hail too? Not really a surprise." Slade shook his head, looking exasperated. "I won't lie, Detective, if Lohr shows up here I'll probably break his neck. Hail's too."
Kevin suddenly understood what Johnson had been saying all along. This was a good man. Armand was a good man. And maybe it was better if the vampires policed themselves. "I know." He gestured toward the bar. "Those wood floors are slippery and the bar is solid. Accidents happen."
Slade's grin was evil. "They do, don't they."
"I am sorry. I should have aimed for Lohr's head."
Slade grasped his forearm in a modified handshake. "I know. Thanks for stopping by, man. I appreciate you taking the time to personally tell me."
"Do you want me to tell Miss Miller?"
Slade grimaced. "No. I will. Later."
"Hey, you know Lohr. Any chance he'll come after her? We can put her under police surveillance…"
He grimaced again. "Not necessary. I seriously doubt Lohr would risk it. He's too much of a coward to face me directly and I don't plan on letting her out of my sight."
"Good. That's kind of what I thought."
He gripped Kevin's shoulder. "So we're good?"