“Sam! Refill!” She dug into a pocket and waved a crumpled bill in the air. Even from where he sat, Antonio caught the smell of fish and seawater on the filthy paper. It looked like she’d gotten lucky.
“Just a minute, darlin’!” He glanced up at Antonio and winked. “Coco’s on soda and lime. I don’t think she has a clue she’s not wasted!” He pushed the photo back. “You know, she’s got a look, but I can’t place it. Any distinguishing marks? Tattoos… that sort of thing?”
Antonio opened the file and scanned Jasper’s notes. “Nothing, not even a scar or pierced ears.” He frowned over the basic profile. Under eye color, Jasper had noted, “Two.” A joke? But then, Jasper himself had one eye that was a whirl of blue and amber. He pulled a pen from his pocket and made a question mark next to the description. They looked perfectly normal in the picture.
“What makes you think she might be around here?” Sam the bartender turned away, busying himself with wiping down the bar. “She’s local?”
“Yeah, from Lauderdale, and this is the sort of place she might be drawn to if she’s here in Miami.”
“A sports bar?” Sam looked skeptical.
“Sports bar! Sports bar!”
Sam hunched his shoulders at the loud squawking of a parrot a few feet away. “Shut up, Polly!”
The big bouncer growled.
The parrot began flapping its wings and howling like a dog. Antonio raised a single brow. Maybe the bird knew something…
“Hush!” Sam shouted.
The parrot squawked once again, and the girl slid off the stool, landing on the floor with a crash.
“I’m all right…” She rose to her knees, pushing away the helping hands of the enormous bouncer. “… floor came to meet me… a little too fast.” She pushed back a matted clump of hair, giving the room a beaming smile.
Antonio shivered. She was gorgeous. Not the perfect, polished beauty of Miami and its hordes of models and trophy companions, but a gleaming, beaming ray of sun. Little glass beads studded strands of her hair. Her wide smile displayed straight, white teeth; there was a tiny gap right there in the middle. Her honey-colored skin was bare of make-up, her eyes… the one he could see was as blue as the ocean. Before he could see the rest of her face, she untangled a crooked pair of sunglasses from her mop of hair and perched them on her straight little nose.
She stood unsteadily, bracing on the back of the stool for balance. Clearly, she was looped out of her brain and Antonio shot a look at Sam, who simply shrugged. She smelled only of sunshine, citrus and herself. There wasn’t a tinge of alcohol on her.
Something else then.
“I’m outta here. Later, gaters!” She wiggled her fingers, tripped over her own flip-flop and caught herself on Antonio’s arm. She squeezed it, fingers probing his bicep. “Nice.” She looked up at him. “Model?”
“Not anymore,” he admitted. Not many people would get that much of an admission from him. Modeling hadn’t been the most brilliant part of his history.
“Pretty man. Big. Fae or shifter?”
Oh. Shit. He looked at Sam, who’d returned to his sink and was rinsing glasses. He grinned at Antonio, shook his head and slowly circled a finger at his temple, indicating that little Coco wasn’t quite right in the head. Antonio then caught the ominous gaze of the bouncer. He gave nothing away. Antonio swallowed. The big man was bruin -- a bear shifter. Poor Sam had no clue.
“I’m a Siberian,” he whispered in her ear. She went perfectly still. Her glasses hid her eyes, so he couldn’t see her expression.
“Really?”
He nodded. He stood perfectly still while she looked him over from head to toe.
“Liar.” She grinned at him. Even though the smile was forced, the most kissable dimple flirted with him. To his surprise, his cock responded. He looked at those full, plush lips and had the most insane urge to kiss the little human. She was close enough he could feel the heat from her body, and again she swayed toward him, clearly off balance. He caught her before she staggered, grinning as she looked down at where her belly pressed into his groin.
“Oh my…”
“Oh yes…” He grinned. He wondered if the place had a store room, or even a private toilet stall. Normally a dreadlocked surfer chick was far from what attracted him, but right now, attraction was a mild description of what he was feeling. He grinned wickedly, reaching up to slide her glasses off. She took a step back, bumping into a stool. Antonio leaned forward, tilting his head slightly, just a breath away from a kiss.
Her pink tongue darted out, moistening her lips. “Water. Need water.”
“Water?”
She nodded. Her hair tumbled over one side of her face and she giggled, a throaty, sexy sound.
“I can do that.” He straightened and turned to the bar. “Water for the lady.”
Sam leaned a bit to look around him, grinned and reached under the counter, bringing up an icy bottle. “On the house.” His blue eyes twinkled and he returned to his chores, chuckling quietly. The file still lay on the bar, so Antonio tucked the photo back into his jacket and fished out a business card, leaving it for Sam. He grabbed the slim file. He’d pretty well memorized all it contained, but still, it wouldn’t be a good idea to lose it. Jedidiah -- and the entire paranormal community -- would have his head.
He shrugged and turned, and then froze. She was gone. The front door hadn’t been opened and there was no sign of her anywhere. He looked around and spotted a dark corridor. An exit sign glowed at the end of the hall and Antonio tossed the bottle up into the air, deftly catching it as he began his pursuit.
He had a bottle of water for the lady.
Chapter Three
The sickening lurch of land sickness receded the moment Coco set foot onto the floating dock. When she nimbly hopped onto her paddle board, her mind cleared as well. She pushed off into the seawater canal, grateful the tide was still in and she was able to gain a bit of distance from the Latin hottie she’d been flirting with back in Sam’s bar.
Poor Sam. He’d nabbed more than he’d counted on in that tax sale. The bar was filled to the brim with paranormals. In fact, the building might be sentient itself. She wondered if he’d ever catch on.
She deftly paddled, not too fast. She didn’t want the man to lose her. He was yumminess wrapped up in sin. And if he really was a Siberian, he might be able to coax her animal back out from wherever it was hiding. She could hope, anyway. Coco sighed and shifted her weight, watching the occasional strand of seaweed float by.
She was head blind without her animal. Confused, lonely and alone. She blinked back tears and continued slowly up the canal, no particular destination in mind. She might just head out to the beach and spend the night looking up at the stars.
A frisson ran over her skin, warning her of the danger in that idea. No beach tonight. So maybe she hadn’t lost her animal after all. Just her mind.
She dipped her paddle into the water, and then let the momentum carry her a bit further. It was late but still light out. She looked back into the water, wondering if any mermaids were out and about tonight. Lately, talking to the fish had been the only intelligent conversation she’d managed.
“Hello there, Coco.”
And there he was, waiting in the shadows, much too far along for a mundane human to have run. He wasn’t carrying a briefcase, so the folder he’d shown Sam must be tucked inside his expensive suit.
He wore ivory-white linen. In her opinion, all the white-suited playboys in Miami just looked ludicrous, but this man made it work. His skin gleamed like sweet caramel. His black hair waved back and was expertly styled. He was young despite the silvery streaks glinting within his mane of hair. His dark eyes shone with licentious humor, and his smile gleamed against his honey skin.
Dulce de Leche on the hoof. And that subtle Brazilian accent? Mmmm. She nearly licked her lips.
“Hello.” She dug in the paddle, slowing the board and swinging it about. “I didn’t catch your name.” She
might be incapable of controlling her idiotic behavior on land, but she could still think clearly enough to catch the basics. She’d heard bits and pieces of the conversation above the static in her head.
“Antonio. Antonio Silva. I’m visiting from Seattle.” He sent her yet another vision of wickedness in his smile. “And you are?”
“Coco. From the canal.”
“Well, Coco from the canal, I have something for you.” He tossed something and she deftly caught the bottle, barely shifting the board. His sharp eyes followed her movement.
“You could barely walk when you were inside. Now you’re balancing on a board in the water.”
She cracked open the water and took a sip. She’d told him she needed water, just not what sort. She re-capped the bottle and set it on the board.
“Don’t have my land legs. I grew up on the water, never really adapted to land.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She stifled a smile.
“You seem a bit more… coherent as well.”
Shit. What was she to say to that? Coco didn’t bother to answer; she just dipped the paddle, pushing closer. She casually examined the dock he waited on. It was private enough for what she had in mind. It jutted well out over the water. Once she hit solid ground, she’d be in trouble once again, but it was a risk she’d take. She needed to get her hands on her handsome Siberian.
Again, grief streaked through her. So many problems and all she could do was tread water, praying for help. If she could at least regain her animal half, she might be able to use it to help herself. He was the first Siberian she’d seen since… since she could remember, and maybe he’d bring her animal to the surface. It was worth a try. If nothing else, he’d be fun to play with.
Within seconds, she was at the dock, looking up at Antonio Silva. Big and Brazilian. Sexy as hell. She just might enjoy the next few minutes. Her gaze was level with his groin, and to her appreciation, something was pressing against his fly. His hand came into view and she looked up, noting his smile was gone. All that was left was intent. She took his hand, letting him lift her up onto the dock. In one smooth move, he propelled her to the wall of the building that backed up to the canal. She hit hard, her head snapping back, but he controlled the impact. She was breathless and startled, but uninjured.
With her back to the wall and the wall of his body to her front, Coco smiled giddily, aware that she was right on the edge of losing it. Thankfully, he kept her pinned in place; there was no chance of her falling now.
“Damn, but aren’t you sweet?” she murmured as he bent to her, running his lips along the side of her throat. Like magic, her body responded, tightening and heating up. She fought the urge to hump his leg. Instead, she looped one arm around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. He leaned in closer and she slid her other arm into his jacket, running her palm up his chest. The rumble in his chest told her he liked that… a lot. She tugged his shirt loose, finding hot, bare skin. She also found the file.
She gasped as Antonio lifted her off her feet, pinning her high against the wall. Automatically, she wrapped her legs around his hips, going straight for the gold.
His lips were warm on hers, as though his entire body generated heat and fire. He licked at her lips, not trying to get in, but enjoying the contact, the taste and texture. Finally she opened, urging his tongue into her mouth. Their first kiss was deep and carnal and so very, very sweet. When he broke away for a breath, she looked steadily into his eyes. Even through the tinted lenses of her glasses, she could see the golden gleam of an aroused shifter. Did her eyes look the same, or were they plain, ordinary human eyes?
Impulsively, she snuggled close, letting this temporary intimacy wash over her, taking a little comfort in the fact that, for now, she wasn’t alone. As though sensing the change in her mood, Antonio hugged her, rubbing the skin of her back, nuzzling her cheeks with his.
“Hey,” he said, pulling back slightly. “Let’s get rid of these.” He pushed her sunglasses up where they lodged in that damn pile of hair. Another side effect of her downfall. She let her eyes fall closed, not quite ready to show him herself, for the eyes are the window of the soul, yes? He’d look into her eyes and see just what she’d once been. Taking a breath, she steeled her resolve and opened her eyes, letting him see.
He stared for a moment, looking from one eye to the other. It was always that way; people never knew whether to look at the blue eye or the green eye. The difference wasn’t too obvious at a distance, but this close, it had to take him by surprise.
“Well, isn’t that pretty? Sort of like David Bowie.”
She blinked. That wasn’t what she was expecting. A Siberian should recognize this trait in another. He still thought she was human. Had her animal fled so completely it was unrecognizable?
Confidence began to creep back. She’d spent so much time stumbling along, looking over her shoulder in fear. Maybe he was just what he seemed, a too handsome private investigator. Still, she had to be sure. She smiled saucily, not willing to open her mouth and tempt the gibberish to come forth. Instead, she nipped his chin, listening to his pleasured growls as his attention was diverted right back to his other brain.
“You have a condom, baby?”
Condom? Hell no. She thought fast. She hadn’t really intended things to go this far, just a bit of canoodling until she satisfied her curiosity. But she was so tempted. Sooo… tempted…
She rocked her hips into his, feeling his erection between the layers of their clothing. She let her legs loosen and went limp, slithering down to her feet. “No condom. Sorry.” She took the sting out of the rejection by sliding her fingers along his bared skin, trailing down till she felt the hard outline of his shaft. He hissed in startled arousal.
“Unbuckle my belt.” His voice took on a dark tone, commanding. Curiously, she glanced up. He looked as though he expected her to obey, so instead, she played a bit more, reaching back to his balls, pressing and fondling. His hips jerked.
“I told you…”
“You sound like my brother when he’s pissed at me.” She smiled and winked at him, laughing at his loss of composure. “But I’d never do this to my brother.” Coco pulled up his silk shirt, licking a wide swath across his taut belly. He was just as nice bare as clothed. She stood and gently maneuvered him so his back was to the plaster wall of the building. They were out here in front of anyone who cared to peek and Coco could care less. What would they see, after all? No one was getting naked. Not now, anyway.
She unbuttoned his shirt and played peek-a-boo with small brown nipples, hand flat over one, worrying the other gently between her teeth. She glanced up and saw he was still caught between intrigue, arousal and masculine frustration at her disobedience. She dropped a hand to his groin again, stroking his cock. Hell, she might as well…
The belt buckle was simple to unfasten one-handed, and in a second she had his pants open and the elastic of his briefs hooked down behind his balls. His cock was uncut, long and dark, with the head peeking out from the foreskin. She slid the skin back and found distended veins. He rocked into her hand, his skin growing warmer, a bright tear leaking from the eye of his cock head.
“Suck it.”
She looked up with a smile. His face was flushed; his smooth hair tumbled over his forehead. He was breathing fast.
“I don’t give oral on the first date, tiger.”
His eyes went wide and then narrow again. “Tiger, eh?”
She waggled a brow at him, and then winked. “But what the hell…” She dropped slowly to her knees, inwardly laughing at his frustrated dominant tendencies. Every shifter she’d ever known had the need to engage in the battle of who was in charge. She looked up at the gleaming phallus just inches from her lips and deliberately reached out, touching the very edge of his cockhead with her fingertip. As she expected, he shivered. She swiped her tongue out, dragging along the silky skin till she reached his trapped testicles. Slipping one hand under those lovely orbs, she plac
ed a gentle kiss on each one.
Coco wrapped her hand around his shaft, pumping gently at first, and then more firmly, all the while increasing her attention to his balls. She knew she’d hit his rhythm when his hips began to flex gently. His hand lowered to her hair, caressing gently. Surprised, she glanced up. Antonio was in his happy blow job zone, somewhere in a state between tension and blissed-out relaxation. His breathing was deep and just slightly unsteady. He opened his eyes, his gaze slowly focusing until they stared at one another, shock, pleasure and surprise running over his face. A chill ran through her body and for the first time in months, Coco’s Siberian stirred, recognizing something just out of reach.
Chapter Four
She was good. So good Antonio simply leaned back and took it; the desire to dominate and control slipped away, leaving him limp and floating on a cloud of well-being. It all converged in his belly. Every cell in his body was aware of her mouth on his balls, her fist on his cock. His hand dropped to her head… not to direct, but to caress.
He fingered thick strands of matted hair, exploring the soft ropes and wishing he could run his hands freely through her long mane. Unfortunately, if -- and when -- she ever did away with the dreadlocks, it would take scissors, not a comb. Or maybe a bit of magic.
He stood there with his head resting against the wall, fingers exploring, simply soaking in the pleasure of her ministrations. One hand slipped around behind him, fingers sinking into the muscle of his ass. The other cupped and kneaded. He wished fiercely that she’d just yank down his trousers so he could feel her all over his body.
Tension built, his thighs flexed, his back went taut. Not wanting it to end so soon, Antonio breathed deeply, forcing his muscles to relax. He opened his eyes and met her unusual gaze. The blue eye was crystalline, like Caribbean waters over white sand. The green eye was the pale green of leaves in the spring. In dim light, the difference wouldn’t be so great, but out here in Miami’s late afternoon, they were another odd element to a very unusual woman.
Final Cut Miami Voodoo You Love? Page 2