All Hallows Heartbreaker (4 page)

As his hands settled over her belly, he commanded, “Give me your neck,” and he nuzzled through her hair to find the corner of her shoulder, drowning in the scent of apple blossoms and her desire. Goosebumps rose beneath his palms.

Emmy tilted her head to the side. “Tell me what you want.”

Dylan lapped the side of her neck, his tongue preparing her fragile skin. “Trust me to make this good for you.”

A little gust of laughter jerked her rounded belly. “You’ve already given me better than my boyfriend ever did in over four years.”

Primitive, surging anger instantly reshaped his face, and the muscles of his body hardened to steel. He thrust upward.

“Ohmygod!” she cried. Her hands raised behind her head to twist in his hair.

Dylan slid his hands beneath her to cup her buttocks and he squeezed. His voice almost a snarl, he said, “Move on me, baby.”

Her knees on either side of him, she lifted up then sank back down on his cock. Her sigh of relief ending on a moan.

Dylan glided his tongue over her skin one last time, then sank his teeth into her neck, just breaking into the skin.

She struggled against him. “I’m not sure—”

His hands rose to her breasts and he fondled them, tugging at the nipples until she eased back once again.

“There’s more?” she asked, her breath hitching when he deepened the bite. “It’s incredible.”

His teeth slid into her until blood rushed into his mouth.

“Ohmygod!” she repeated, rotating her hips on his cock, grinding down. She writhed, her buttocks sliding on his thighs. Then, with his mouth still upon her neck, she bounced against his lap in short jerks.

When her shudders grew deep, starting in her thighs and rising to her belly, Dylan’s humanity was nearly lost. A rumbling started deep in his throat that increased with the volume of her moans. He flexed his thighs, lifting them both as he pumped into her. Faster and faster, the blood screaming through his veins, and then his cock burst with a stream of come.

He groaned against her neck.

“Please,” she said, gasping.

Dylan withdrew his teeth immediately and realized that he, too, was trembling. At once, he licked the punctures on her neck until they closed. Then he dropped a hand to the curls between her legs.

She widened the space between her legs and continued to rock against him.

As he twisted a nipple between the fingers of one hand, fingers of the other combed through the fine hair until they found the slick button of her clitoris.

He glided his fingers down to where his dick was embedded in her pussy. Capturing cream from their combined come, he returned to her clit and circled on it, the pad of his finger rubbing harder and harder. When she began to keen, he plucked her clit, squeezing in rhythm with the rough treatment of nipple.

“Dylan!” she cried, a moment before she collapsed against him, panting.

Long strokes over her belly and thighs calmed her breathing. Her head lolled on his shoulder, and she looked up. “If I make it home, I’m staying in bed for a week.”

He rubbed his cheek against the soft skin on her shoulder, assuring himself his face had returned to its human mask. “I’ll see you home.”

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly. “I won’t make this into anything more than what it is.”

“And what is it?” he asked.

“Wonderful. But just a fuck.” Her gaze darted away.

Her blunt words knocked the breath out of him. He wondered why. He’d gotten exactly what he’d set out to find tonight. Uncomplicated sex. Still, he couldn’t stop the sudden surge of anger. “Whether you want to see me again or not, you’re stuck with me whenever the sun goes down.”

“Only in the dark?” One blonde brow arched. “What are you, a vampire?”

Chapter Four

Dylan gave her a heated stare.

Disappointed he hadn’t returned a smart-ass comment, Emmy wondered if her blunt words had shocked him. She’d only said “it was just a fuck” to let him know she had no expectations. If he knew he’d rocked her world, he’d probably run screaming into the night.

Not that Dylan appeared to be a screamer, but most men got butterflies when a woman appeared too enthusiastic in their company.

No, Emmy wasn’t going to cling. If their interlude was all she’d get from this unusual man, then she’d walk away proud she’d earned her first orgasm. She’d certainly worked hard for it!

Emmy giggled, then looked up into his face again. “Is there any particular reason we’re stuck with each other at night?” Her heart pitter-patted, hoping he hadn’t said it in the heat of passion. Perhaps he’d finally seen her without his passion-lenses and decided not to be seen in public with her huge butt.

Dylan sighed, then said, “Love, would you mind getting up now? We need to talk.”

Here it comes, she thought.
I won’t cry. I won’t let him see how disappointed I am.
She rose from his lap and bent to pick up her clothes from the floor.

“Not yet,” he said, his strong fingers wrapping around her arm.

All that glorious muscle had been hers—at least for a while.

He guided her to the sofa. “Take a seat. We’ll talk.”

After she had settled onto the cool seat, she wished she had her skirt to cover her thighs, which spread like butter over the leather.

He knelt beside the sofa, his eyes level with hers, the gold flecks glowing in the sea of deep green. His finger tapped her nose. “Emmy, pay attention.”

Hoping to forestall some awful ‘I’m letting you down easy speech,’ Emmy blurted, “You really don’t have to do this.” Her hands wrung in her lap. “I’m a grown-up girl. This was great, but I can make my own way home now.”

His brows drew together. “Emmy, you’re not going anywhere without me.”

Her heart lurched, wanting to soar, but she kept hold of the tethers. “Dylan, you don’t have to say that. I’m not expecting anything to come of this. Can’t we just say we had a grand ole time and I can leave?”

“Don’t you want to see me again?” he asked softly.

“Of course I do,” she admitted, feeling as awkward as a teenager waiting to be kissed. “I was just trying to make this easy for you, in case you wanted an out.”

“I want to see you again, too.”

She released the tether and smiled as her heart lifted toward a clear blue sky.

“But there’s something else.” His voice was deep and serious.

The traces tied to her heart tangled in the trees. “You’ve already got a girlfriend?”

He blinked. “No, Emmy, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“You’re bi! Was that your boyfriend I saw you with earlier? I can see why you’d be attracted—he’s very handsome.”

His finger pressed against her lips. “I’m not bi. I’m not trying to brush you off. I just need for you to listen to what I say.”

He glared and kept his finger mashed to her lips until she nodded. When he took the finger away, Emmy tightened her lips and slid her hands beneath her thighs.

He rose to his feet. “Your life is in danger.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he paced in front of her. “Your friend Monica is working for Nicky now. And Nicky’s very dangerous. In fact, he’s a murderer.”

His cock swayed between his legs in the most amazing way, and then she realized what he’d said. Alarmed, she said, “Then we have to help Monica.”

He halted. “Monica can’t be saved. It’s too late for her, Emmy. And you must never see her again.”

She waved her hand in dismissal of the foolish thought. “Why should I believe you? She sells housewares in the same store where I’m the bookkeeper. Saleswomen don’t become murderer’s groupies.”

“While I’m sure there was a speck of logic somewhere in all that, I’m telling you the truth.”

“I don’t believe you. She’s my friend.”

“For the love of…” Dylan’s hands clenched at his sides. “She’s not the same girl. Nicky’s changed her.”

Emmy felt her lower lip push out, and sucked it back in quickly. How would he ever see it her way, if she acted like a child? “Even if it were true, Monica would never hurt me.”

Dylan threw his hands up. “Fine. Have it your way.”

Emmy was a little disappointed Dylan had conceded so quickly. “Great.” At least he’d quit ragging on Monica.

“Get dressed,” he said, his tone brooking no dissent.

Ruffled by his curt tone, Emmy lifted her chin and knelt to retrieve her clothing. After patting the ground without results, she relented and looked at the floor. She gathered her clothing, then glanced at Dylan.

His arms were crossed over his chest and he was completely dressed. “Do you need help?”

She wondered how he’d dressed so quickly. “I’ve been putting my own clothes on for twenty-odd years now. I think I can manage.” Only she was so irritated, she put her panties on inside out.

A single raised eyebrow mocked her.

“I did that on purpose.” She slid her skirt over her hips and sucked her breath in to close the zipper at her waist, then she lifted her bustier and let it dangle from the end of her finger. When he didn’t take the hint, she cleared her throat. “It would go faster if you laced it up for me.”

Dylan cupped a hand to his ear. “I didn’t quite hear you. Were you asking for my help?”

“You might be God’s gift in the fucking department, but I can see why there’s no girlfriend lurking in the shadows—you are a Grade A asshole!” She threw the black velvet bustier at his head and stomped toward the door, hand outstretched to the brass knob.

He slammed into her back, pinning her to the door. “You’re completely mad,” he said, his voice tickling her ear. “And what a temper. There’s not a woman in this building who would brave my wrath.”

“Of course, I’m mad.” His body enveloped hers, making her feel incredibly small and helpless. “You’d drive a saint to commit murder. Besides, I’m not afraid of you.”

Something warm and wet glided over the top of one shoulder.

“No fair,” she complained, but she turned her head away to bare her neck. He had the most amazing tongue, slightly rough like a cat’s.

“I know,” he said, his tongue flickering over her skin to slide toward her ear. “You’re having a perfectly good pout, and I’m ruining it.”

“Yes, you a—” Her breath caught when is hands caressed the sides of her breasts where they were mashed against the door.

He shifted slightly away, and his hands moved around to cup them fully. “We could just stay here.” His voice dropped to a low purr. “I could play with your breasts, since I didn’t really have a chance to do them justice before.”

Emmy moaned and rubbed her ass against his groin. “I’d love to, but I have to work in the morning. I should head home.”

“Then I’ll make sure you get home safely.” He removed his hands and lifted his body away from hers.

Immediately, Emmy missed his weight. She turned to face him and leaned back to let the door to support her wobbly legs. “Because of Monica?”

“And her boyfriend—Nicky.” He lifted his hands, his palms framing her face. “I’m not asking you to put your faith in me. I’m just asking you to allow the possibility they mean you harm.”

Reluctant to even conceive her friend would betray her, Emmy nodded and accepted his help donning her bustier.

“Did you drive here?”

“No, I took a taxi.”

“Good. We’ll take my car. When we leave here, I want your vigilance. Tell me if you see anything suspicious.”

Numbed by great sex and the depressing feeling her perception of her life was about to change forever, Emmy followed Dylan from the club. Except for her directions, the drive was quiet, and sooner than she wished, Dylan parked his BMW a block from her apartment building.

“Stay inside. I’ll get your door.” He let himself out, and walked around the car.

But he didn’t immediately open her door. His head lifted, and his nostrils flared like a dog catching a scent in the wind.

The door latch popped with a soft click and he eased the door open, offering his hand to assist. “Stay behind me,” he said, then led the way down the deserted street. They walked on the side of the street opposite the streetlamps, careful to keep in the shadows.

Emmy’s nerves crackled with unease. Although she was sure Dylan was dead wrong about her friend, and not at all convinced Monica even had a steady boyfriend, she clutched the back of his vest. Monica told her every down and dirty detail of her life—how could she miss telling her best friend she was dating a serial killer?

When they were thirty yards from her front steps, Dylan stopped cold, drawing her deeper into the shadow of a shop doorway.

Emmy looked both ways along the street, but didn’t see a thing wrong. “Really,” she whispered, “aren’t you being just a little paranoid?”

“Quiet.” His arm circled her waist, and he held her to his side. “Look to the left of the steps.”

Emmy stared, but still didn’t see anything except shadows. Until one shadow moved. A dark figure crept out of the darkness and into the light of the streetlamp. Then another stepped from behind a car.

Emmy gasped. One was Monica—but the other wasn’t Nicky. Still, Emmy thought she recognized the man from The Cavern. He’d been among the young men in the group surrounding Nicky. “I don’t understand,” she said, trying to read Dylan’s expression in the dark. “What would they be doing here—hiding in the dark? They’re a little old to be egging my place. Halloween’s over.”

Dylan didn’t reply, he turned and walked back the way they’d come, pulling her behind him. Emmy heard shouts, and without knowing why, she and Dylan broke into a run. The car loomed forever in the distance. With her sides aching, she gasped for breath, struggling to keep up with him.

Using the remote, he unlocked the doors and they both dove inside. The ignition revved to life, and he pulled out onto the street, executing a sharp U-turn. As the headlights swept the street before them, several men were illuminated. Something about their appearance didn’t look quite right to Emmy.

Then she saw Monica, her glossy brown hair framing a face that looked like something out of a nightmare. Her cheeks and forehead protruded. Her brow was heavy and deeply furrowed. She bared her teeth and a jagged line of white appeared, framed by long incisors that glistened when she threw her head back. The howl that followed Dylan and Emmy down the street wasn’t human.

Emmy welcomed the familiar roar of the engine and muted sounds within the car. The glare from an oncoming car startled her. She blurted, “That wasn’t a goddamned mask! Was it?”

“No Emmy, it wasn’t,” Dylan said.

His calm reply wrapped a cold blanket around her shoulders. A shiver lifted the hairs on the back of her neck, and then the trembling began in earnest, shaking her shoulders.

Dylan’s hand landed on her arm and she jumped.

“Easy now,” he crooned. “I’m taking you to my place. They’ll know where you are, but they won’t be able to touch you there.”

“How…how did you know they would be there?” she asked, the chill causing her to stammer. “Why do they…want me?”

His jaw tensed. His gaze slid toward her then away. “Because I want you.”

Slowed by shock, her response came several moments later. “Then why…didn’t you stay away from me?”

When Dylan glanced at her, his expression was stark. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I don’t understand. What’s wrong with their faces?”

“They’re vampires.”

Despite her quaking unease, Emmy found that comment amusing. “Like ‘I vant to trink you’re blahd’ vampires? No kidding, what was wrong with them?”

“I’m telling you the truth. They’re changed. Not human.” He swallowed, then said, “They feed on human blood.”

Emmy remembered Dylan’s fetish for biting, and all her senses clamored “danger”. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “You’re like them, aren’t you?”

His eyes narrowed, but his gaze never left the road. “Leave it alone, Emmy.”