Sucker for Love (4 page)

I was winning, of course.

I smiled and added a persuasive
Call me
before I climbed out of the cab and headed for the front door.

Entering the building, I power-walked five flights of stairs and headed down the long hallway that led to
mi casa.
Across the hall, my neighbor—an accountant who loved Thai food and cheap perfume—was just hitting the
SNOOZE
button. I slid my key into the lock and let myself in.

The apartment was just the way I’d left it—cat hair clinging to the rug, a pile of dirty clothes in one corner and a stack of shoe boxes I’d been meaning to organize in the other (FYI—in addition to being allergic to stakes and sunlight, I had a strong aversion to vacuums and cleaning products).

I made a few kissy-kiss sounds guaranteed to
bring the average, loyal, devoted pet running to the door to greet his master. Needless to say, Killer kept his fat, furry ass planted on my couch.

“What? No love?”

I’m weak from lack of food.
He blinked.
I can barely lift my head.

“I fed you before I left.”

I’m even hallucinating,
he went on.
I took a piss in the litter box and I swear the wet spot is the spitting image of Garfield. eBay, here I come.

“You’re not auctioning off your pee and you’re not weak from lack of nutrition. I fed you Kitty Cuisine lamb and vegetables before I left.”

Is that what I yacked up all over your shoes?

“You didn’t.”

He blinked. A wave of dread rolled through me even before I turned and spied the surprise near the sofa. I contemplated tossing him from the nearest window, but that totally went against the whole born vamp creed of keeping a low profile. The last thing I needed was to wind up getting cuffed on the Animal Planet equivalent of
COPS.

I glared at him. “You’re cleaning it up.”

In your dreams, sistah.
He rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes.
I don’t do manual labor, and I don’t eat lamb and vegetables. I already told you, I like the sardines. The imported ones that you brought home last week.

“Last week was a special occasion.” I’d been celebrating my first full week of coupledom with Ty.
He’d gotten stuck working a case and I’d ended up celebrating on my own. An imported bottle of AB-for me and Italian sardines for Killer. “Those things are expensive.”

Yeah, well, so are designer shoes.

Maybe I could use a pair of pantyhose and disguise my face before I threw him out the window. I contemplated the idea as I went in search of rubber gloves and some antibacterial wipes.

I ended up with an old pair of gardening mittens left by the previous tenants and a few hand towels. I spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning up the mess and envisioning a street full of splattered feline. Talk about an upbeat way to end my otherwise depressing night.

At the same time, I kept picturing the bloody couch, which made me nauseous, which kept me from smearing Killer’s sorry hide all over the pavement.

“You’re lucky I had a stressful night.”

And you’re lucky I didn’t yack into your handbag so it could match the shoes.
He purred.
What can I say? I’m just a softy at heart.

“I should spike your food.”

You wouldn’t.

I gave him an evil grin. “Oh, wouldn’t I?”

Confession time—as much as I despise Killer at times, I’ve gotten used to having him around. Which is the only reason I didn’t pour a bottle of Windex into his food bowl. Well, that and the fact that I
didn’t actually have a bottle of Windex—see the above reference to cleaning products.

Instead, I dished out the last can of sardines and then headed for the shower. My head hurt and my chest felt tight. I desperately needed to wash away the past few hours.

The water poured over me, blending in with the moisture that rolled down my face. When the hot water ran out, I toweled off and pulled on a worn red T-shirt that read
Santa, I can explain
and a pair of fuzzy white socks. Not the typical sex dominatrix ensemble one would expect from an all-powerful
vampere,
but I was going for warm and comfy rather than bitchy and ballsy.

I flipped the deadbolt on the front door, checked my cell phone for any messages from Ty—did I mention that he was still stuck on said case and I hadn’t seen him in four days, five hours, and fifty-seven minutes?

Not that I was counting. Or feeling sorry for myself because my new boyfriend had pledged his devotion on Monday, only to disappear on Tuesday.

A sigh worked its way up my throat as I closed the heavy-duty blinds on my trio of windows. Climbing into bed, I burrowed under the covers and pulled the goose down over my head.

I closed my eyes, conjured my favorite fantasy and tried to forget that poor Esther might be in serious trouble.

And that it was all my fault.

It was the hottest fantasy I’d ever had.

And trust me, at five hundred (and holding) I’ve had more than my share.

I’ve had my toes licked by Hugh Jackman. My back massaged by Patrick Dempsey. My feet tantalized with a pair of one-of-a-kind python pumps with diamond-encrusted straps. (What? We’re talking
Jimmy Choo.)

My latest—and my most fave—involved me, a breezy beach cabana, a mesh bikini and a certain sexy bounty hunter.

Surprisingly, there wasn’t a grain of sand or a palm frond in sight. Instead, I was completely naked, spread out on a pair of pale pink Egyptian cotton sheets.

Ty leaned over me, his body silhouetted against the flickering glow of a single lit candle. His naked body covering the length of mine, his muscles hard beneath my roaming hands. I felt my way up, over his toned ass, the dip at the base of his spine, the sinewy planes of his back, his broad shoulders. His dark silky hair brushed my skin and my eyes shot all the way open.

Everything went from fuzzy to focused and Ty’s handsome face loomed over me.

You were dreaming about me.
His lips didn’t move, but his deep voice echoed in my head, reminding me of the fact that he’d drank my blood and I’d drank his.

We were connected now in a way that went beyond his-and-hers hand towels. While this little bit of FYI had freaked me out at first, I’d actually started to like it.

At least when it came to sex.

We’re talking better than a mood ring.

I smiled (all of five seconds) until I remembered that he’d bailed on me. No note. No phone call. No email.

“I sent you a text on Tuesday.” He dipped his head and nuzzled my ear. He flicked his tongue and a lightning bolt zapped me.

“To say you were working late,” I managed, despite the yummy heat seeping through me. His tongue grazed the side of my neck and electricity sizzled from the point of contact. It spread through my body, pausing in several interesting places. My armpits. My nipples. My belly button. Lower … “Late usually means a few hours,” I said when I finally found my voice again.

“Not in my line of work.” Another flick of his tongue and a few nibbles and he pulled back to stare into my eyes. “I’m on a tough case that’s still wide open. I shouldn’t be here now, but when I got your message, you sounded so upset…” His voice trailed off and I didn’t miss the brightening of his eyes. “I needed to see you.”

I touched his face. Rough stubble rasped my fingertips, dispelling any lingering notion that I was dreaming.

I wasn’t sure if it was the stress of the past few days spent worrying and wondering if he’d changed his mind about us or the stress of the past few hours, but I had the sudden urge to throw my arms around his neck and burst into tears. He was here now and while I knew I didn’t need his comfort (I was the ultimate badass, in de pen dent, single and successful vampire), I still wanted it.

He kissed me then, effectively distracting me from the crazy realization. My brain zeroed in on his tongue and the way he stroked mine and, well, who could think with all that going on?

“I’m sorry about the frantic phone call,” I told him when we finally came up for air and I had a twinge of conscience. “I was pretty stressed.”

“I wish I could have helped.”

“That’s okay. Ash took care of things.”

“I heard.”

I didn’t miss the flash of jealousy in his gaze and warmth spread through me. “He thinks Esther’s off having a wild, passionate affair and that I’m freaking for nothing.”

He nodded. “It’s possible.”

I shook my head. “She wouldn’t just disappear like that.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But worrying over it won’t help one way or the other. Wait and see what Ash turns up. Then you can freak.”

“He said it would be at least twenty-four hours
before he knows more. I don’t think I can wait that long.”

He grinned. “I can think of a way to pass the time.” His expression grew serious and his eyes blazed bright and fierce. “I really missed you.”

A smiled played at my lips. “I missed you, too.” I pressed my body against his. “And I missed this.”

“Ditto.” He pressed his thigh between my legs and rubbed against my slit. Sensation bolted through me and my entire body shook.

His lips captured mine again and his tongue plunged deep. His pulse beat echoed in my head, keeping time with the frantic
ba-bom-ba-bom-ba-bom
of my own.

I clutched at his shoulders and opened myself to him, but he held back. Instead, he teased and stirred until I just knew I was going to lose my mind.

I exerted a little BV strength, rolled him over and straddled him. My gaze locked with his as I slid down his hard, hot length. He throbbed deep inside me and pure ecstasy gripped me. Every nerve in my body started to buzz. To want. Suddenly I couldn’t feel him deep enough. Fast enough. I rode him hard then. Taking and giving and … there. Right…
there.

My orgasm was fierce, slamming over me, picking me up, shaking me around. Until I stopped thinking and worrying and I simply
felt.
Ty inside of me. Surrounding me.

My body bucked and my head fell back. He pulled me down to him then, his hips lifting as he caught my nipple with his mouth. He sank his teeth deep and started to drink, and I plunged over the edge.

I gripped his head and held him to me as the convulsions ripped through my body. One after the other. Each more fierce than the last. My body sucked at his cock the way his mouth drew on my nipple and it went beyond anything I’d ever felt.

My own hunger stirred then, gripping and twisting until I felt my fangs against my tongue. The urge hit me then and I couldn’t help myself. I gripped his hair and pulled him up until we were face-to-face.

I kissed him then, tasting my blood on his tongue. It was warm and sweet and the hunger roared inside of me.

Now.
The deep command echoed in my head and the next thing I knew, his head was tilted back and my mouth was on his neck. His blood pulsed past my lips, drenched my tongue and slid down my throat.

Sweet.

Succulent.

He gripped my hips and came then. His body shook and a growl vibrated in my ears.

I drank a few more seconds while he bucked and trembled. I released his neck, licked my lips and melted against him. He held me tight then, not moving or speaking. Just holding.

At that moment I stopped wondering if he loved me. I felt it. Deep in my heart. My soul.

Unfortunately, the feeling lasted all of an hour.

All too soon, Ty crawled out of bed, pulled on his clothes and left without one word (a kiss on the lips
does not
count).

Luckily, I was half-asleep and so relaxed that I didn’t fly out of bed and open up a can of whoop ass on him. Or worse, morph into a blubbering idiot and blurt out how much I loved and adored and worshipped him.

Wait a sec. Did I just say
worship
?

Press rewind and forget that last one. I might be a sucker for love, but I
so
wasn’t a sappy idiot.

Anyhow, back to blurting out my love and adoration.

Not
happening. At least not until I was absolutely, positively sure that he felt the same way.

Of course, I wasn’t worrying about any of that right now. Or whether or not the meet and greet party was going to pay off and save me from massive refunds. Or Esther and the bloody couch.

Especially Esther and the bloody couch.

Rather, I was basking in the glow of wicked hot sex.

I pulled Ty’s pillow on top of my head, drank in his scent and pretended all was right with my world. In a matter of seconds, I was fast asleep.

Hey, sometimes it pays to be a vampilicious optimist.