Fireworks for July: A Holiday Bites Vampire Paranormal Holiday Romances (2 page)

J
uly stumbled
out of the cab, her head throbbing. Wow. That drive from the airport had been a real killer.

The cab driver plucked her suitcases out of the trunk. He was short, in his fifties, and a few pounds over weight. She blinked at him, her vision going fuzzy for a second.

“You need anything else, Miss?”

She shook her head and paid him the appropriate fare, including a large tip. He got into his cab and pulled away, melting into the Strip’s traffic. She looked up at the hotel, feeling excited.

Time to begin her wicked weekend.

J
uly showered
, pulled on her new gold dress with matching high heels, and put on make-up. Her brown hair was shoulder-length and a mass of unruly curls. The most she could do with them was brush the loops to a glossy shine.

Her room was on the third floor. Its flat glass faced the frenetic light shows and crowded streets of the Strip. She had a standard room with a queen-sized bed. It was nice and comfortable—and kinda irrelevant. Because the draw was Vegas, baby.

July turned and walked to the hallway, stopping to check out her outfit. She looked at her reflection and said, “Go for it, July.”

She’d looked over Dark Treasure’s brochure and knew that it contained several exclusive shops, including one particularly naughty one she wanted to explore. Grabbing her tiny gold purse, she slung the spaghetti thin strap over her shoulder and left.

Moments later, after a quick elevator ride, a trek across the casino, and a precarious jaunt down a stairwell, July stood outside the blacked-out glass door, her hand hovering over the metal bar.

“You can do this,” she muttered. “It’s just a…”

Sex shop.
She’d never been in one. Her palms were slick with sweat, but she depressed the bar and pushed open the door.

July entered the store, her heart hammering and panic knotting in her belly. When she’d won the contest, it was like getting the biggest present ever.

Thanks to Aunt Grace, she hadn’t had a formal celebration of any holiday, including her birthdays. So, this weekend, she was determined to experience everything she’d been denied. First, she would buy something naughty. Second, she would take herself to the midnight dinner reserved at restaurant known only as Joy. She would order
two
desserts. Third, she would go to a nightclub and dance. Fourth, she would go--

July smacked face-first into a solid object, which she immediately identified as a tall, muscled human being. As she bounced off the formidable chest, two hands gripped her forearms and steadied her.

“And here I thought I was going to leave empty-handed,” said a deep, silky voice.

Licking her dry lips, July gazed up. The man holding her looked like a Roman general or a Michelangelo model or -- oh hell,
gorgeous
would probably cover it. The man’s short blonde hair framed a devastatingly handsome face. He was dressed in a suit, too, as if he were stepping out to go to a Sinatra concert instead of perusing a seedy sex shop.

“I’m sorry,” said July. She pulled out of the man’s grip and tried to go around him. How many times a day did the guy workout? He had some seriously great muscles.

“Hey, baby.”

July turned around. “I’m not…”

She trailed off because he was beautiful, and she was looking for an opportunity to be a little wild…right?

“I’m Carter Mattison,” said the man. “And you’re…?”

“July Ellsworth,” she responded faintly.

He leaned close, his blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. “Nice to meet you, July. So, what’s your tale, Nightingale?”

The man had an odd way of speaking—like he’d stumbled out from some black-and-white 1950s movie.

“I’m just…er, browsing.” July blushed, her face heating as though she’d stuck it into a broiler.

“Me, too.”

She couldn’t work up an appropriate response, so she stared at him, heart thundering. She didn’t know when he reached and touched her shoulder. She didn’t see it—but she felt it. And she couldn’t break his magnetic gaze. His fingers drifted down July’s neck causing goose pimples, and he dipped into the edge of her dress. He lightly skirted the thin gold chain, traveling down to the smooth gold circle that rested between her breasts.

He withdrew the necklace and stared at the disc with its enigmatic symbol—a triangle slashed by three lines. July wore it because it was the only gift her aunt had ever given it to her the day before her death. Even now, July wondered if her aunt sensed her own death and had passed on the only object of sentimentality she owned. The old woman had said, “Maybe he’ll find you.”

Carter let the necklace drop. His fingertips brushed her skin. Her stomach felt like a thousand butterflies were trapped inside, their wings fluttering frantically.

“That’s a unique necklace.”

“It was gift.”

“From a man?”

“My great aunt. And it’s really none of your business.” Turning, she fled into the nearest aisle and blindly looked at the assorted products. Only after she managed to get her breath back did she realize she was staring at sex toys designed for anal play.

“Interesting choice.”

July whirled around and faced the devil with an angel’s face. He was so tall, so buff, and looked somehow otherworldly. Straightening, she looked Carter directly in his blue eyes and said, “What do you want?”

“What if I said I wanted…you?”

July’s heart slammed against her chest. Here was an opportunity to explore sex. Passionate, sweat-making, nail-dragging sex. She was, unfortunately, a virgin despite the bumbling of one boyfriend who didn’t know what a clitoris was, much less where it was located. Here, without trying, she had attracted the attention of a handsome man who probably knew all kinds of ways to pleasure a woman.

To pleasure her.
July wasn’t wrong to want sex, just like she wasn’t wrong to want something more than sex. Something like… love.

For the briefest of moments, Carter seemed to know what she was thinking. “I can’t offer you much more than a wild, wicked night, July.”

Had July indulged in fancy, she might’ve described the moment as time suspended. Or time pulled as taut as a stretched rubber band. But though her heart turned over and her lungs seemed to stall, and she wanted to feel her lips on Carter’s flesh, July lacked the courage to follow through.

She shook her head. “I appreciate the offer.”

“It’s an open offer, doll.” His wicked smile electrified her. “Tell you what. I bartend at the Shadows—it’s here in the hotel. You change your mind, come to the Shadows for my specialty.” He winked and walked away.

And just how many girls fall for that, Mr. Mattison?
Plenty, she bet. Her heart still hadn’t slowed its frenetic beat. What a delicious man.

Feeling unsteady, July hurried into another aisle and looked over the vibrators. She chose a small bullet-shaped one, which already had the batteries installed.

After she paid for her purchase, she returned to the casino floor and went to the ladies room. She removed the bullet and its wireless remote from the plastic and tucked it into her small gold purse.

Glancing at her watch, she realized she had some time to kill before her midnight dinner. A fancy meal for one had lost its appeal, especially after meeting the mysterious Carter. Well, he had invited her to the Shadows for one of his specialty drinks.

It’s open offer, doll.

Did she have the courage to go for it?

F
rom a hidden distance
, Carter watched the beautiful woman exit the shop. His nostrils flared as he thought about her and the necklace. He’d felt the curse the moment he’d laid eyes on the pendant. He’d never forget how it had played a part in his downfall.

She hadn’t been lying when she said it was a gift from an aunt. He would’ve have sensed deception. But he wondered what kind of game she played? Had the whole damsel in the cab thing been a ruse?

He didn’t think so, but he didn’t have time to work it out now. He knew where she was staying, so answers could wait. His job, however, would not.

T
he bar was low lit
, crowded, and loud. All the same, July spotted Carter right away. He was behind the bar, his jacket and tie off, his shirtsleeves rolled up.

He spotted her and smiled. He patted the bar top. The people pushing in to get drinks immediately parted and allowed her to sit on the now vacated stool.

“Neat trick,” she said as she slid onto the leather seat. “Got any more?”

He rested his elbows on the counter. “Yes,” he said, flashing that wicked grin that made her stomach flip-flop. His eyes were such a vivid blue. There was something animalistic about their shape. Come to think of it, his whole demeanor was animalistic. The idea of being his prey both terrified and exhilarated July.

If he were chasing her… what would he do when he caught her?

She leaned forward and Carter ducked down so he could hear her. “You said you had a specialty,” she said.

The words were barely out before his lips captured hers. He swiped his tongue into her mouth, a slightly naughty incursion that made her knees go wobbly. She grabbed the edge of the bar to keep from toppling over. The mad kiss went on for longer than all of eternity. She felt like a ball of fire burst inside her, its heat radiating to every point in her body.

Carter let her go. Shaking and discombobulated, she nearly fell off the stool. She couldn’t quite get her breath back. Against the wall, a mirror ran the full length of the bar. She saw her own shocked reflection—the dazed look in her eyes, the swollen, wet look of her lips.

He studied her. “How was that?”

“I thought you were talking about a drink,” she said, her voice quivering.

“It helps if you’re specific. That way we both know what you want.” He whipped out a cocktail shaker and poured liquid into it. Out of the five liquids he mixed, the only one she recognized was pineapple juice. He also added a pinch of pungent black powder.

“Is that pepper?” she asked. She didn’t know much about alcoholic beverages, but really, who put pepper in their cocktails?

“It’s not pepper. It’s my little addition of magic.”

“Magic?” She couldn’t keep the cynicism out of her tone.

“Yes.” His left eyebrow quirked. “Don’t you believe in magic?”

She laughed. “Maybe I believe in Vegas magic.”

“That’s good enough.” He shook the concoction. Opening the top, he strained the drink over a glass filled with ice. He added a cherry then slid the beverage to her.

July sipped the liquid, which tasted tangy-sweet and strangely smoky. Lip-smacking good. Before she knew it, the cocktail was gone. The cherry sat forlornly among the ice cubes. Carter plucked it from the glass.

He traced her lips with the sticky sweet fruit then laid it on her tongue. She closed her mouth and he pulled the stem out. As she chewed, he watched her, his gaze dark and hot.

“You’re radioactive, baby,” he said.

“Um, thank you?”

“I mean you’re exciting. Beautiful. I dig you.”

“I dig you, too.” She opened her purse and glanced at her smartphone’s display. “Thank you for the drink, Carter,” she said, reluctant to leave. “I have reservations at Joy.”

“Maybe I’ll see you again.”

She smiled. “I hope so.”

“
W
hat do you mean
, you don’t have my reservation?” asked July. “It’s part of my package. See?” She held up the itinerary.

The hostess, a pretty girl with a vapid gaze, smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, Miss Ellsworth, but I don’t have a reservation for you at all, not today, yesterday, or tomorrow. Would you like to make one now?” She paged through the oversized datebook. “We have an opening in three weeks. Shall I put you down for Saturday at seven p.m.?”

“No,” said July. “I want
my
reservation—the one for tonight. I’m only in town for the weekend.”

“Ma’am, please.” She sighed, her ice-blue eyes going polite and cold. “Joy is a very popular restaurant. That’s why we ask patrons to make reservations.”

“I did.” July lifted the page once again. “Would you like to read it? Or do words confuse you?”

“Wrong name,” said a familiar voice. “Try Mattison. Party of two.”

July turned and stared at Carter. “You weren’t kidding about seeing me later. But I didn’t know you meant five minutes.”

“I needed your sunshine, doll.”

“This way, Mr. Mattison,” said the bedazzled hostess. Her smile turned warm and inviting. “Or would you like to wait for the other person in your party?”

“She’s already here,” said Carter, tugging on July’s brunette curls. “Isn’t that right, July?”

“Yes.” She beamed at the hostess, who seemed to deflate when she realized Carter was claiming July for his date.

Carter draped his arm around July’s shoulder and gave her a light kiss. His lips were soft and warm as they pressed against her mouth. Her heart jumped in her chest. No doubt whatsoever she was crazy attracted to him.

After they were seated, Carter ordered champagne. The waiter brought a bottle in an ice bucket along with crusty brown bread and butter. After they placed their orders—rare steak for him and lobster for her—July felt at a loss.

“How did it go at the … you-know store?”

“The you-know store? Oh.
Oh.
” July focused intently on buttering a slice of bread. “It went well. Fine. Good. So good.”

“I saw the toy,” Carter teased. “When you opened your purse at the bar, I couldn’t help but notice.”

The knife clattered to the bread plate, and July felt her face go flaming hot.

“Don’t be embarrassed, July. Experiencing sexual pleasure is one of the privileges of being human.”

July barely worked up the courage to look at Carter. She saw no judgment in his gaze, and his expression let her know he was very interested in her sexual pleasure. She pressed a hand against her agitating stomach. Oh, dear. Was that the sound of her panties dropping?

“You could try it out.”

July cleared her throat. “I plan to, thank you.”

“I meant now.”

“What?”

“Go to the ladies room and put the vibrator in your panties. Then let me have the remote.”

Handing over control of her pleasure to him seemed risky. Too risky. July hesitated. The voice in her mind making all the protests sounded too much like her great aunt, who had never risked anything, ever.

“You’re in control, July. If you don’t like anything I do—just say so. I’ll give you the remote and that’ll be that.”

Her heartbeat stuttered and her breath left in a whoosh. God, he was so … so … raw. Bold. Wild.
Here’s your opportunity, July.
Fine. She’d take the risk and hope like hell that Carter was worth the effort. She opened her purse and passed him the small black wireless remote.

“Excuse me.” As she stood he did as well, and she appreciated the gentlemanly gesture. Once again, she thought about how old-fashioned Carter seemed, almost like he didn’t belong in this era.

She went to the restroom and entered the last stall. Her hands trembled as she removed the bullet vibrator from her purse. Lifting her dress, she tucked it into her panties, sliding it between the fleshy folds and pressing it against her clitoris.

After she was finished, she washed her hands. Her reflection in the mirror was dazed.
What are you doing?
she silently asked her mirror image.
This is insane.
The vibrator felt odd, but not too uncomfortable. All the same, as she returned to the table, she felt as though everyone in the restaurant knew what she’d done.

Steeling her nerves, she took the flute of champagne and sipped its fizzy sweetness. The vibrator zipped on and sensation exploded in her clitoris. She was so startled that she nearly spilled her bubbly. The vibrator turned off.
Oh, God.
July blew out a breath. Wide-eyed, she stared at Carter. “I’ll never make it through the lobster if you do that.”

“Yes, you will,” he promised.

It was as if his declaration made their dinner appear. She stared at the steaming lobster then at Carter. He winked at her. She knew in that instant he would follow through with his intentions. And she’d agreed to the whole thing the second she’d given him the remote.

She couldn’t quite work up the nerve to eat, though Carter suffered from no such compunction. He dug into his bloody steak with abandon. The tail was split open, offering its succulent meat. She drizzled butter on it then pierced the tender white lobster with her fork.

Her heart started to pound. Carter paid no attention to her. He enjoyed his food and appeared to have forgotten all about her. She gazed at him from underneath her lashes, but he didn’t glance at her.

She lifted the fork to her lips and savored the first, butter-drenched bite.

The vibrator whirred on, slowly pulsing against her clit. Her heart tha-thumped, and she shifted in her chair.

“Don’t move,” said Carter, flashing his devastating smile. “Just sit there and enjoy every sensation.”

He kicked the vibrations up another notch.

July pressed her lips together to keep from moaning. After a moment, she took another bite of lobster. She even managed a couple of roasted new potatoes. As the vibrator worked her into a heated frenzy, she tried to pretend she was doing nothing more than enjoying her meal.

She drank all of her champagne. Carter refilled her glass.

Her breathing became hard to control as her desire to moan, pound the table, and beg Carter to take her increased.

He turned up the setting.

“Oh, God,” she choked out. Her fork clattered to the plate. She clutched the edge of the table. Pleasure burst into a thousand bright stars. She bit her lower lip as the torturously good orgasm went on and on.

It took a long moment for her to draw in a regular breath. She met Carter’s gaze and couldn’t speak.

“How was everything?” asked the waiter as he cleared the table.

Dazed, July looked at him. “That was the best lobster I’ve ever had.”

Carter laughed.