Beauty Bites (40 page)

Suddenly Ric leaned against the bed, eyes closed, breathing shallowly. I put my hand on Teddy’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, I’ll be back to check on you. But you need to go to bed now and get some sleep. Your mother’s coming in the morning.”

“Won’t she be surprised! Now she won’t have to do what Dr. Bearsylls said.” He gave me a quick, hard boy’s hug. “Thank you, Dr. Synnove.”

“Well…your mom still has to pay for the surgery somehow.”

“Teddy’s healed,” Ric said softly, opening his eyes on me. “Holiday Buzz will cover the medical bills. I think we can safely say you won’t be subjected to further harassment.”

Blinking, I met Ric’s tired but steady gaze. How had I ever thought this male was image only? “Thank you.”

Teddy hugged Ric’s waist. “Thank you, Dr. Ric.” Then he jumped into bed.

“Good night, Teddy.” I took Ric’s hand, led him shuffling to the doorway, and shut off the light.

But the moment we got out of earshot I said, “You need blood. Take mine.”

“I can’t, not without endangering you.” He gave me a wan smile. “I told you I wanted you too much.”

My cheeks heated. He’d said that before giving me that first orgasmic bite. A glass of juice had taken care of any light-headedness, and I hadn’t thought anything more of it. And then he’d bitten me again this morning…okay, maybe I was a couple pints down. “Then you should rest.”

“One more thing to do first. I’ll be all right.”

But when I insisted on driving he didn’t argue. Even that little bit of blood had taken a lot out of him. If it hadn’t been so worrisome, it would’ve been fascinating.

He asked me to drive to Meiers Corners where he directed me to Julian and Nixie’s townhouses. Twyla had moved there in January but I’d been busy with clinical and hadn’t seen the place yet.

“What are we here for?”

“You’ll see.”

I parked the car on the street, and we approached the nearest townhouse. Ric‘s fangs peeked out from between his lips. Stress or caution or both had brought his vampire nature to the fore.

And then, between one breath and the next, a mist streamed before us and snapped into six-plus of black-haired, red-eyed and long-fanged lawyer.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Julian Emerson snarled.

“Pax.” Ric held up a palm. “I’m Ric Holiday.”

“Holiday?” Julian’s fangs slowly receded and his eyes cooled to blue. “The Ric Holiday who wouldn’t even speak to me?”

“Things change. I’m here to map out an advertising campaign for you. It’ll take several nights. Got a place Synnove and I can stay?”

“Maybe.” Julian frowned. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to do an ad campaign for Meiers Corners as quaint and local, not the New Sin City?”

“Well, I’ve got some ideas for you. But someone else will have to implement them. It’s vital I maintain my independence from your Alliance.”

“But what about Camille?” I said. “The competitive presentation?”

“I can reverse it now. Discredited, she won’t have Nosferatu to back her up.”

“I’m onboard,” Julian said. “Anything that vexes Camille gets my vote. But what changed your mind?”

Ric looked at me and smiled.

“Oh.” Julian sniffed delicately. “Ohhh.”

We returned to the Chipmunk Lake cabin complex a week later—Julian had gone ahead with the purchase—with half Julian’s household. On the way we stopped at Chipmunk Lake Supplies to get sunscreen and beach toys.

As Roy the Friendly swiped my card he said, “D’ya went wirms wih dat?”

I nodded. “Why not? And you might as well add a couple fishing poles too.”

And so it was that evening that Ric and I finally relaxed together on the pier in front of our cabin, worms bobbing in the moon-speckled water. For the first time since Bearsylls had botched Teddy’s surgery I was completely at peace.

I smiled. “Wirms. Fer feeshin’. I get it now.”

The next Match Day wasn’t until March, so I had a wait before I could start a new residency in Minneapolis. Ric and Aiden pretended to look for Eloise but Ric’s real first move, allowing himself to be photographed in kelly green, wouldn’t happen until then either. In the meantime, I volunteered at a local children’s hospital. Rosie and Harry, who, after a whirlwind courtship, had gotten married, asked if they could volunteer too.

I got them a gig reading fairy tales to sick kids.

One evening I leaned against the doorway in my hospital scrubs, listening to Harry’s deep voice as he read “The Beauty and the Beast”. Rosie’s eyes on him were lit with love.

Ric materialized silently beside me and dropped a kiss on my neck. “Harry does a nice job reading.”

“That he does.”

“That’s my favorite story.”

“Mine too. I used to think it meant ‘Don’t judge by image’. But these days I have a new moral for ‘The Beauty and the Beast’.” I smiled into his azure eyes, silently telling him how much he’d come to mean to me. “Love unlocked the real me.”

His gaze told me I was loved in return. “I have one too. Love freed the Beast, and Beauty too. Love freed us both.”

About the Author

Hugs! I live in the United States Midwest with my alpha-husband beta–reader, two adult kids who constantly amaze me, two grandcats who demand equal lap time, a basement full of spare computer parts, and a music room with a romantic cello and a flute for twisting my fingers playing orchestral birds.

I’d love to hear from you! Write me at
[email protected]
. Or visit me online!

Website:
www.maryhughesbooks.com

Facebook: MaryHughesAuthor

Twitter: @MaryHughesBooks

Look for these titles by Mary Hughes

Now Available:

Biting Love

Bite My Fire

Biting Nixie

The Bite of Silence

Biting Me Softly

Biting Oz

Coming Soon:

Biting Love

Downbeat

Real vampires do musicals.

Biting Oz

© 2012 Mary Hughes

Biting Love, Book 5

Gunter Marie “Junior” Stieg is stuck selling sausage for her folks in small-town Meiers Corners. Until one day she’s offered a way out—the chance to play pit orchestra for a musical headed for Broadway:
Oz, Wonderful Oz
.
 

But someone is threatening the show’s young star. To save the production, Junior must join forces with the star’s dark, secretive bodyguard, whose sapphire eyes and lyrical Welsh accent thrill her. And whose hard, muscular body sets fire to her passions.

Fierce as a warrior, enigmatic as a druid, Glynn Rhys-Jenkins has searched eight hundred years for a home. Junior’s get-out-of-Dodge attitude burns him, but everything else about her inflames him, from her petite body and sharp mind to what she can do with her hip-length braid.

Then a sensuous, insidious evil threatens not only the show, but the very foundations of Meiers Corners. To fight it, Junior and Glynn must face the truth about themselves—and the true meaning of love and home.

Warning: Cue the music, click your heels together, make a wish and get ready for one steamy vampire romance. Contains biting, multiple climaxes, embarrassing innuendos, ka-click/ka-ching violence, sausage wars and—shudder—pistachio fluff.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Biting Oz:

I had just pulled black jeans and a black T-shirt over a lacy powder-blue thong and demi-bra (they were next in the underwear drawer—really) and was brushing my teeth when a knock came at the attic door.

“That’s weird.” No one ever knocked. Because of the setup, my parents were the only ones who had access to the attic, and they took unholy delight in bursting in on me unannounced. Especially (to my chagrin) when I was “going through puberty”, if you know what I mean. Curious, I spat and rinsed and headed for the far door. It took me across my “hallway”.

Picture a capital T. Turn it sideways and set it on our house, the top bar along Jefferson in the south. My room—bedroom and tiny bath—was at the intersection, sitting like a tree fort in the branches of the attic, the rest being bare rafters and blown insulation.

The stairwell door was at the foot of the T. A set of two-by-fours laid over the joists was my hall. I traveled it by instinct, ignoring the fact that one wrong step would put me through my parents’ ceiling. If I ever got out of here, I’d be a shoo-in for a high wire act.

I hurried to the door and opened it. Swallowed my tongue.

Filling the doorway and then some was Glynn, hands thrust in his black leather jacket pockets.

His jaw, freshly shaved, was more honed than I remembered, his skin almost dewy. His lips… I groaned. The upper begged for a nibble, the lower demanded a full tongue-swipe. Those edible lips parted, revealing strong white teeth. The tip of his tongue peeked through.

A storm of lust broke in my belly, drenched my thong.

Glynn’s nostrils flared, elegant yet animal. His eyes—smack me with a kielbasa, his eyes burned deep, hot purple.

“H…how’d you get in?” I croaked. More thong-dousing—apparently parts of me wanted to know how he’d “get in” too.

“Through the store. Your teenager wasn’t very attentive. I found my way into the house.”

“You penetrated the family abode?”
Penetrated
. Just club me. “Um, why have you come?”
Come
. “Here, I mean. Why have you come here…to the store? Yes, that’s what I meant.”
Shut
up
, Junior.

I heard a soft grunt, a stifled groan. Him or me, I didn’t know.

“I’ve come to pick you up.” His mouth barely moved, lips stiff. “We’ve Emerson’s limo.” He shifted his hands from his jacket to jam them into his jeans pockets.

“Limo?” My eyes automatically latched on to his hands, which framed a rising zipper. “You’re offering me a fast ride…?” Oh, thank you, Dr. Freud. I cleared my throat and pretended I wasn’t an ass. “You do know the PAC is only a block from here?”

“It’s on our way. I didn’t like the thought of you toting those heavy instruments when I could do something about it.”

“That was nice.” Trapped in a limo with Big Dark and Dangerous, porn flick fantasy number five. Maybe I should have refused, but lugging the headless-corpse sax
was
a pain. Besides, how much trouble could we get into in just one block? “Give me a sec to pack up.” I started to close the attic door. Manners took over. “Why don’t you come back? Be careful to stay on the walkway.” I started for my room.

No footsteps clunked behind me. I took a couple more steps but still heard nothing, so I twisted around to see if he was there.

I managed to twist myself off-balance. I tried to catch myself, but my foot hit the edge of the narrow walkway, skidded off. No nearby walls or even studs to grab, so I fell.

With incredible speed and grace, Glynn snared me just before I put a Junior-size hole through my parents’ ceiling. I was ridiculously grateful—until I realized he’d caught me around the breasts.

And that one big, hot hand was gently squeezing.

I sucked in a breath. Jagged darts of lust fired from that rhythmically squeezing hand and arrowed down my belly to detonate in my groin.

“Ah, Junior. You’re so soft.” Glynn’s breath heated my hair. “So lovely.” He rolled me around until I was facing him. His arms wrapped me, bands of hard muscle. “I didn’t sleep at all last night, thinking about you. Your scent, your feel. Your taste.”

I stared up at him, wondering if I had really fallen through the ceiling gypsum and was lying unconscious on my folks’ kitchen floor. This gorgeous stranger had been thinking about me all night? My brain tried to make sense of it… He dropped his head and kissed me.

His mouth took me slowly. Not leisurely slow but purposefully slow, thoroughly, his lips circling gently. Like we lay entwined on a summer beach, cool sand below, warm sun above, with nothing to do but each other. And he was going to do me oh, so right.

My eyelids drifted shut, my palms slid onto his chest. His hard, thick pecs were warm slabs of brick.

He dipped in, tongue licking lightly at my mouth. My lips parted, my breath mingled with his and I tasted masculine fire. I opened more eagerly for him—but he backed off, tonguing the corners of my mouth, tracing the outline of my lips. Rubbing lightly yet thoroughly. Sweetly, as if we had lifetimes to explore each other.

Like a kiss of commitment.

I pulled back. “No involvement” was more than an aim, it was a mantra. Duty to my parents, followed by my dreams. Commitment didn’t figure in except as a stumbling block to avoid.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. “I won’t hurt you.”

I
was
afraid, not that he’d hurt me physically, but that he’d take over my future.