“Shutting up,” he said on a hoarse groan.
Last night she had been very curious, but Larkin had prevented her from exploring. Tonight she had every intention of doing exactly what she’d read about in those naughty erotic romance novels.
Her fingers strayed to the fly in his boxer briefs as she released him and took her first glimpse of the very part of his anatomy that had made her howl just the night before. His cock was as long and as thick as it felt last night while inside her, the smooth skin satiny and lightly veined. She gripped it in her hand and let her palm tunnel the heat of it, stroking it with long passes.
Larkin’s thighs tensed, the muscles bunching against her cheek, and she smiled. Something was obviously going right.
“It is,” he said between teeth that sounded clenched.
This time she didn’t mind that he knew what she was thinking.
“Spencer…you don’t have to do this.”
Her hands grew more insistent as her panties grew damp and her nipples tightened with anticipation. “Well, Detective, obviously you know you couldn’t make me do something I don’t want to do.”
Larkin laughed from above her and gripped handfuls of her hair when she tentatively let her tongue rest against his shaft. Spencer licked him gently at first, savoring the texture of his skin against her tongue.
With slow ease she enveloped his cock in her mouth, taking as much of him as she could then dragging her lips and tongue back over his length to tease just beneath the head of his cock. He jerked toward her, jutting his hips forward and pulling back again with a deep groan.
She moved faster, bobbing her head in fluid passes, swirling her tongue over him as Larkin’s hips ground against her. Her hand drifted to his balls. Heavy and tight, they lay in her hands as she kneaded them gently. “Jesus Christ, Spencer…” he murmured, his breathing choppy and hard.
She ran her nails over the thick patch of pubic hair just above his cock, letting them graze his skin as he pulsed in her mouth, grew hotter, slicker. His hand now rested on the top of her head, guiding her with each stoke she made, hissing his pleasure.
Larkin yanked away suddenly, leaving her mouth with a pop and hauling her upward to crush her frame against him. “You have to stop.”
Spencer wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her needy, aching body against his, arching into his shaft. “I guess that’s how you do it, huh, Detective?”
Larkin’s lips hovered over hers and a thrill of carnal, delicious shivers made her shudder against him. “Yeah, that’s how you do it,” he whispered huskily as he tore at her jeans, struggling to pull them off her.
She wiggled out of them, wrapping her legs around his waist as he held her steady and kicked off one shoe at a time, then stepped out of his pants.
His cock burned when he slid between the fleshy folds, teasing her clit, making her squirm with anticipation. His hands grabbed her ass and clutched it with rough fingers as he walked backward and set her on her breakfast bar.
Spencer whimpered against his cheek when he moved away, the cool of the countertop easing the heat of her bottom. Then he slanted his head and parted her mouth with his tongue and for a moment Spencer knew if she had a heart it would have stopped beating as he kissed her deeply, exploring each crevice in her mouth, running his tongue over her teeth.
As his lips devoured hers, he trailed thick fingers between her eager thighs, grazing the pouty lips of her core, dragging them through the slickness he’d created. Her hands clung to his shoulders as his tongue drove into her mouth, rasping against hers.
Her breathing grew labored when he stroked his forefinger over her swollen, aching clit. “I need to lick you, Spencer. I’m going to sink my tongue into your hot, sweet pussy,” Larkin murmured as he tore his lips from hers and hiked her legs up over his shoulders, pulling her ass forward. Spencer gasped as she saw his head positioned between her legs. Leaning on her elbows, she lifted her hips in desperate invitation.
Larkin didn’t hesitate. He buried his tongue in her, delving into the sensitive flesh, parting it swiftly, lapping at her with forceful strokes, swirling his tongue over her clit until she thought she would explode from the heat that gathered between her legs. Sharp stabs of pleasure burst into hot flames of need when he inserted a finger into her and began to thrust.
Spencer rode his finger as if it were the cock she found so wickedly tantalizing. Her nipples beaded and tightened, rubbing against her bra as her orgasm began to swell. This time she knew what to expect and her only thought was that if vampires did die, this was how she’d want to go, with Larkin’s tongue between her legs and his finger inside her.
In a flash of light and heat she came, slamming into his tongue and clinging to his neck with a death grip as she rode the sharp wave of release.
Her breathing was ragged to her ears as Larkin stood up and hauled her to him, taking her off the breakfast bar and carrying her to her small couch. Laying her on it, he covered her body with lightning speed, parting her thighs and burying his cock in her balls deep. “I can’t wait anymore, Spencer. If I don’t fuck you, I’ll explode.” He said the last word on an urgent moan.
Spencer’s throat constricted, holding back a scream of pleasure as he entered her, slick and hot. The slap of flesh against flesh pounded in her ears as she drove her hips to meet his frenzied thrusts. Larkin held onto the arm of the couch for leverage and rode her with hard strokes.
She reached her hands behind her to grip his, digging her nails into his fingers as she fought to get enough of his thick cock, droving her to madness as she teetered on the brink of falling.
Her back bowed, arching, straining to get as much of him into her as she could. Thrashing beneath him, she reveled in the hard chest that pressed into hers as their rhythm increased and Larkin’s harsh gasps for breath crashed in her ears.
Clenching her muscles around his thick shaft, Spencer couldn’t hold on anymore. The newly familiar, white-hot thread of electricity spiraled into a ball of fire as she came.
Her orgasm was almost painful but for the sweet release it offered, flooding her nerve endings and ripping another scream from her throat. Larkin felt it, too, as he let go, jerking in her as he came.
Their bodies were slick with a fine sheen of sweat, gliding against one another until his breathing took on a normal pattern and they settled.
God, this man…
Larkin brushed damp tendrils of her hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “You are one incredible woman.”
“Or one incredible lay.”
“Well, there is that, but you’re a good person too, Spencer. I saw that again tonight with Adelaide.”
Spencer squirmed a bit. She hated compliments on something so basically humane. “She’s suffering, it’s the least I can do. I don’t want accolades for it.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s what makes it so damn good. So now you say, ‘Thank you, Detective’.”
Spencer laughed, hiding her face in his neck, solid and hard against her nose. “Thank you, Detective.”
“Do vampires have anything like chips or something? I’m starving.”
Spencer chuckled from beneath him. “What’s the matter, Detective? Don’t you want to do blood shots with me?”
“That would be a negative. Can we order a pizza?”
“We can. I think the phone book is in the kitchen, somewhere.”
Larkin slid off of her and wandered over to his jeans in a heap on the floor. Spencer noted they’d never even gotten their shirts off. “I think I’d miss pizza if I were a vampire.”
“You can still eat it. I hear it just doesn’t taste the same.”
“That sucks.”
“There are other cooler things you get in trade for a slice with pepperoni.” Spencer walked past him and headed for the bathroom to clean up. Larkin followed right after her and stood behind her in the mirror. His eyebrows rose. “You can see your reflection?”
Spencer smiled. “Yes, silly. We’r
e debunking too many of your vampire myths for one night, huh?”
“For sure. It’s kinda blowin’ me away.”
Spencer handed him a washcloth and grabbed her bathrobe. “Consider yourself blown.” She giggled as she left him to clean up and went to find the phone book. Her hands shook a bit—aftershocks of their lovemaking no doubt. Biting her lip, Spencer focused on not thinking about anything. She’d be damned if she would let him know how deeply he affected her.
Keep your mind free—think airy…don’t think of this as anything more than a big, old two-night stand. Period. No hard feelings. No broken heart when the nice detective goes home.
Her doorbell rang, interrupting her supposed non-Larkin thoughts. Spencer frowned. Who the hell could be here at this hour? It was after ten.
When she opened the door Spencer almost gasped. A very pale, very fabulous-haired Joffrey stood at her door with a cool, unruffled smile. Spencer’s eyes narrowed as she assessed him. “Joffrey. What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Spencer,” he said without a hint of emotion in his tone. “I thought maybe we could spend some time together. Maybe grab a drink or something?”
“I don’t think so, Twilight,” Larkin barked from behind her, wrapping a possessive hand around her waist.
Spencer backed up and put her palm on Larkin’s bare chest. “As you can see, I’m busy.”
Joffrey rocked back on his heels and clucked his tongue in that annoying way that made Spencer want to snatch it from his head. “I see that. Enjoying the brawny, foul-mouthed detective’s company, Spencer? Or would you prefer some refinement in your life?”
“Hey, Joffrey. Don’t you have a date with some O positive somewhere?”
Joffrey bristled, but recovered quickly, his face a cool mask. “Are you O positive, Detective?”
“Yeah. Could you smell that or can you only smell your life mates?” Larkin said between clenched teeth and the crack of his knuckles.
Okay. The Thrilla in Manilla would have to wait. Spencer stepped between them and looked up at Joffrey’s pale face. “I have company, Joffrey. Next time call before you just pop over. I’ll be at the parlor tomorrow night if you want to drop by. You,” she turned and pointed to Larkin, “go to your corner and behave.”
“Good night, Joffrey.” Spencer wiggled her fingers and shut the door.
She put a quick finger to her mouth as Larkin erupted from the corner of the room, fury clearly lining his face. “Joffrey is a vampire. We have hearing even the six million dollar man would be envious of. Shut up!” she hissed in a whisper, pressing her ear to the door and waiting until she heard the lingering Joffrey take his leave.
Turning around, she said, “Okay, knock yourself out. Yell.”
Larkin yanked his shirt closed and stabbed at the buttons. His voice was tight as he spoke. “I’m not going to yell. If you wanna hang around that freak—invite him to the parlor—go right ahead.”
Spencer felt the snap in her anger management and decided to forgo all her hard work in taming it. “Wait a minute, Tarzan! I never said I wanted to hang around Joffrey,” she sneered. “There’s a courtesy that has to be adhered to between vampire families when courtship is clearly the intent. He won’t go away until I allow him to do that. So he does it and then I tell him to go away, okay? Now stop knuckle dragging and relax.”
Larkin’s face was red with fury and his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. “What is this, the friggin’ Dark Ages?”
Spencer tightened her belt at her waist and grinned. “Look, there are certain things that remain. You forget, Detective, we were around in the Dark Ages, at least some of us. It’s no big deal. It’s like Christmas for humans—it’s tradition and it’s been around a long time. So shut up and take it like a man while I ditch the asshole.”
Larkin’s face slackened and his expression grew amused. “Ditch him?”
Spencer sauntered toward him and kissed his jaw. “Yeah, ditch him.”
Sometimes men were such stupid heads.
“I am not.”
Ugh. “Are so.”
“Am not.”
“I can’t heeaar you,” Spencer taunted as she strolled out into the kitchen to order a pizza for Larkin and figure this mess with Joffrey out.
Chapter 9
Spencer yawned and stretched as she finished up the paperwork on a client. After pizza she and Larkin decided to try and figure out who the woman was that Alan had supposedly been involved with. After she ditched Joffrey, that is.
Freak. He sent chills of distaste up her spine and she just couldn’t put her finger on what it was about him that she didn’t like. Except his television commercial hair and cool, smug attitude. Gross, he was just gross and even if he was her life mate—she didn’t give a rat’s fuzzy ass—he wasn’t signing on for the lifetime plan in Spencer’s world. Not ever.
And then there was Larkin. Tough, hot-headed, brash and a consummate lover. He made her ache with just thought of him and she’d known him less than a week. She’d boinked him in less than a week. Did that make her a trampy vamp?
She giggled. Larkin was everything she shouldn’t become involved with and maybe that was part of his appeal. He was also human.
Human, human, human. That alone should have been her first big neon sign. But no, why not take your first dip into the lake known as sexual without so much as testing it.
Hell, she’d done a half gainer off the back wall right into the deep end, but she couldn’t summon up any good reason why she shouldn’t. So he was human…and a cop…a cop who had suspicions about her family’s involvement in Alan’s death.
Spencer hoped to assuage those assumptions on Larkin’s part. But what would happen when he was done investigating Alan’s death? Spencer figured he’d go home, wherever that was.
Note to self—ask Larkin about warm, fuzzy shit.
So probably this was just a fling. Okay. She was a big girl. She could deal with that—she would deal with that. She tapped the pen in her hand against her desk and ignored the butterflies in her stomach.
“Hey, gorgeous. How’s smellin’?”
Spencer’s head snapped up at the sound of her brother’s voice and she flew around her desk, throwing her arms around his neck. “Ethan! You smart-ass! Leave my damn nose alone, will you? How are you?”
Ethan hugged her tightly and swung her around. “I’m good.”
Spencer looked into his dark, handsome eyes. When he’d gone away a month ago, he wouldn’t talk about what was troubling him. He just said he needed time to figure some things out and left. Her parents had given him their full support, because they were nothing if not supportive, loving parents, but Ethan’s departure left Spencer unsettled and it was obvious he still wasn’t ready to talk about what was going on. “Really? I mean, you can talk to me, Ethan. You know that, right?”
Ethan gave her another squeeze, avoiding her eyes. “I do know that, Spencer, and we will, I promise you. Lemme get settled in and then we’ll talk. So what’s new with you? Anything exciting in the embalming business?”
Lost virginity, death, mayhem, mind reading, possibly murder…nah, nuthin’ new. “Well, we did have a sort of exciting moment or two with a recent customer.” Spencer figured it would be all right to tell Ethan. He wasn’t just her brother, he was her friend, yet another reason she’d felt so slighted when he’d left with hardly a word.
“No shit? What happened?”
Spencer patted him on the shoulder to put her down and they sat together in her office chairs. “Well, we had a guy in here and after I’d already embalmed him the freakin’ coroner’s office decided he was possibly murdered and they took him back. Which of course you know means they’ll hack him all up. It’s pissing me off too.”
Ethan’s mouth hung open before he snapped it shut. “The coroner couldn’t tell he was murdered? What the hell is that about?”
Spencer shook her head, her hair falling in her eyes. “They thought he committed suicide, but it turn
s out maybe not. I felt awful for poor Alan.”
Ethan’s face grew more pale than normal. “Alan,” he said through compressed lips.
“Yeah, Alan Perkins. His mom was a wreck and there’s this cop, Larkin McBride—he’s investigating this mess. He’s a long story, but he’s a friend of Alan’s and he couldn’t figure out why Alan would kill himself. Apparently Alan’s life was pretty peachy. Anyway rumor has it, and you have to keep your big mouth shut about this, there was a suicide note. Seems Alan was distraught over his girlfriend and he killed himself.”
Ethan’s face grew still, his eyes wide. “Girlfriend?”
Spencer noted the alarm in his voice and cocked her head. “Yeah, his girlfriend. What’s wrong, Ethan?” She gripped his hand, his fingers shaking in her grasp. “Ethan! You’re scaring the shit out of me. What’s wrong?”
His jaw tightened. “I thought I could wait until later to talk to you, because I do need to talk. But Alan…” he said Alan’s name on a sigh. “Alan Perkins, the Alan Perkins I know—knew, didn’t have a girlfriend.”
Spencer’s eyes were wide and her stomach was in knots. Her instincts told her something really bad was about to happen. Oh, God…”You knew Alan Perkins? Thirty-four, lived on Applegate Lane?” The disbelief and alarm in her voice was evident.
A silence fell between them as she watched Ethan struggle to answer. It was thick and heavy, thudding in Spencer’s ears.
When her brother finally answered, Spencer sat in stunned silence. “I knew him. We were lovers.”
* * * *
Spencer blinked. Well, holy fucking not a heterosexual.
She bit the inside of her cheek because any words she might have hoped to say were stuck in her throat like peanut butter. She didn’t give a flip that Ethan was gay. The statement didn’t sting at all. What she did give a flip about was that he’d never shared that with her and she’d never had a clue.
Now that stung.
Her brother sat before her sharing a personal, intimate detail of his life and she’d been so damn wrapped up in herself she’d never known. She’d never once even suspected it. “I—I—don’t…” Her words were thick and slow.
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