Biting Serendipity: April Fools For Love (Biting Love Short Bites Book 4) (7 page)

His abs scrunched ever so slightly in response. “Nice.” A slight burr of pleasure ruffled his voice.

“Just getting started.” As I pressed more light kisses to his smooth, warm skin, I opened the bottle. “A little cool.”

I poured a splash onto his abs. He flinched. Immediately, I licked the rivulet off.

“Ahh.” His eyes closed, and this time he definitely purred his pleasure in a deep rumble. “Nice.”

“A different nice?” I poured more into his dent of a navel, lapped it off.

“Mmm.”

I wanted more than “nice.” More than “mmm.” I tipped a little whiskey—onto his nipple. It puckered immediately. I sucked the liquor off.

That got a hiss out of him.

By this time, my head was
buzzing. Maybe I’d licked more whiskey than I knew. But maybe it was the effervescence of freeing a part of me free that had been stifled for too long. I unsnapped his jeans.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting creative.”

“You? Ms. Schoolmarm?”

“You inspire me.” I suited action to word, pulling the pins out of my bun and letting my hair fall. He rose to one arm as I did.

The appreciation in his gaze was worth it. My heart felt like it was flying.

“Moment of truth.” I returned to his pants, unzipping, wondering if he was a boxers or brief kind of guy.

Yeah. He was a commando kind of guy.

His thick erection rose to greet me, shaped for maximum pleasure. I flicked a surprised gaze at him. He looked…smug.

So I had to. I really did.

I poured whiskey on it.

He fell back to the bar with a hiss. Then I sucked it off… One. Long. Slurp.

He arched and groaned. “Fuck me, hot mouth chasing cool liquid…that’s
good.
”

What can I say? With him, it was easy to be creative. Wild. It was fun. It was exhilarating. It was scary and exciting, and I never wanted it to end.

So I climbed onto the bar over his legs, opened my mouth and throat, and pushed him in as far as I could.

He shouted.

I swallowed.

He came.

I took it as long as I could, but apparently, vampires were sexually prodigious creatures in
every
way. I caught the last with a fumbled bar towel.

Sitting up, he seized my chin in gentle fingers, drew my head toward him, and kissed me, his lips soft with appreciation. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah. I was.”

Maybe he felt my smug grin, because he broke the kiss to search my face, then gave me a grin of his own. “Yeah. You were. But now, it’s your turn.”

Before I could even suck in breath for a gasp, he grabbed me, tossed me onto my back on the bar, pulled up my ruffled skirt, pulled down my serviceable white panties, and poured whiskey.

Cool when poured was cold when hitting swollen, needy flesh. That whiskey hit my sex like water dropped on a hot oiled skillet. I jumped. He followed the liquor with his tongue, a long glide of rough and hot. I sizzled. He repeated, smooth fangs riding on the outsides of his tongue, pricking just at the end. I
burned.

Thor licked again and again until I wrapped legs around his head, arching and screaming in my skull,
I need to hold onto something.
He heard and reversed into sixty-nine so I could fist his renewed erection, and then I lost myself in the over-and-over of
harder, faster, more,
until I burst.

It was like a casino win. Lights jangled and popped, my brain going ka-ching, ka-ching ah-ooo-ga.

He licked me through it, licked me down. He’d come again, too, my hair getting the brunt of it. It was unfettered, wild, and I gloried in it.

Turning us over, he cradled my head against his chest and hugged me tight.

My world glowed; his heart thudded under my ear in time with mine. I felt safe in his arms.

“Hmm. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that technique before,” Camille remarked.

I shrieked. My blood pressure popped like a cartoon thermometer. I reared up to see a bar towel flying toward my face.

Thor grabbed it out of the air before I was blinded.

“This bar better be scrubbed and sanitized before you leave.” She disappeared.

Lovely. I’d forgotten the cardinal rule—fun was sure to get someone in trouble.

I found my panties hanging on one ankle and nearly fell off the counter trying to pull them up. Thor caught me. I managed to put myself to rights with his help, although from a glance in the long mirror, my hair was sticking out at an angle.

On the plus side, I didn’t have to worry about setting a bad example for Camille. She was more likely to set the bar for me.

Thor smoothed my hair with gentle fingers. “Don’t mind her. She’s just jealous.”

A smile bubbled up through me. He wasn’t embarrassed. In fact, he’d enjoyed it.

Maybe with Thor, being fun and naughty wasn’t a bad thing.

Chapter Five

Thor heard and scented the man approaching outside the bar before the knock came at the front door, but the sharp rap sent Sera scrambling to finish straightening herself. He tucked a stray curl behind her ear, found and slipped on her shoes, then gently set her on the floor.

“Police.” A round face appeared outside the repaired front window, topped by a shock of red hair and a black-visored, blue police cap. Hands flattened against the glass, the blue eyes peering in surrounded by enough sandy freckles to qualify as their own beach.

Thor stifled a sigh. He hoped the glass held.

“I know you’re there. Open up.” The muffled voice was high for a man.

Thor exchanged a questioning glance with Sera, then shrugged and went to open up.

The policeman, heavy duty belt circling his waist like a ring of Saturn, stepped inside and looked around. His wide-legged stance and the scowl on his face went beyond authority into au-thor-ih-tay.

“Are you the owner of this establishment?”

“You are?” Thor said.

“Officer Titus.” The young man tapped his ultra-shiny silver badge. “Please answer the question, sir.”

Another baby cop on third shift. Thor shook his head to himself. With Meiers Corners on the line between competing vampire territories, the city tended to go through naïve young officers pretty quickly.

“You’re new, aren’t you? You’re the what, fourth fresh, young face to try to replace Dirk Ruffles?”

“Fifth,” Sera offered.

“Trust me,” Thor said. “No one can do eager and bumbling like Dirk could. Did you just start tonight?”

“Last night.” Titus radiated affront. “Are you evading the question, sir? I’ll have to cite you for contempt.” He pulled out a pencil and pad of what looked like forms, flipped the cover open on the pad, and started scribbling.

“Contempt? I think that’s only in the courtroom.”

The pencil paused as a strangled sound of exasperation came from the young man’s throat. “I may be new to the force, sir, but I’m not new to Meiers Corners. I happen to know Camille Lebeau is the owner in question. I’m also adding obstruction of an officer in the course of his duties.” He scribbled harder.

“Don’t forget entrapment.” Thor pointed to the officer’s pad. “You asked me if I was the owner. Why ask, if you already knew?”

“I didn’t…I’m not…” He slapped the cover closed on the pad. “Please get Ms. Lebeau immediately.”

Younglings.
So impatient. “I’m sorry, she’s not available at the moment. But I’m her second in command. Can I help you?”

The officer drew himself up and glared in a most oppressive manner. “Were you aware that the solid front door is in violation of Meiers Corners city codes 8932—section B—and 14939 section C paragraph two?”

“Is it?” Thor tried not to laugh out loud.

“All front doors of the city’s commercial establishments must have a window. In addition, the entrances of establishments fronting Main Street—also known by mayoral proclamation as Gemütlichkeit Way—must be, and I quote, ‘folksy and charming.’” The young man poked an underlining finger into Thor’s chest on each word.

The vampire inside Thor ached to take a bite out of this pugnacious fool. He controlled it by dint of ridiculously strenuous Alliance training. “I’m sure the contractors cleared it before the installation.” He gave Titus his blandest smile.

“That’s as may be.” The young officer, not seeming to comprehend his danger, reopened the pad of forms and scribbled on a fresh sheet. “I don’t make the law, but I do enforce it. I’m going to have to give you a citation.” He tore off the top sheet and handed it to Thor. “You have thirty days to correct the issue, then fill out forms 842A, B, D, and E—in triplicate.”

Vision shading a distinct vampirey violet, Thor snapped the paper from the young man’s hand. A low growl thrummed from his chest. He didn’t bother hiding it, and as he looked the citation over, the thrum got louder.

Sera put a warning hand on his arm. “You look familiar, Officer. Are you related to Captain Ernest Titus, by any chance? He teaches a criminal justice class evenings at my school.”

He’d overheard her talking about Titus. Students thought the man dished out Ds and Fs to make himself feel superior.

She’d probably mentioned the captain to Officer Titus to try to defuse the situation, but she’d pronounced the name as Emerson’s punk wife Nixie said it,
Tightass
.

“The captain is my father.” Titus drew himself tall, rage in every feature. “And it’s pronounced
Tit
-Us.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Sera threw Thor a helpless giggling glance that spoke louder than words. Tit-us was just as unfortunate.

He gave her a brief smile of commiseration.

Then he rustled the papers to get the officer’s attention. “I’ll get this to the Camille.”

“See that you do.” Titus turned and rolled out, leaving the door open for Thor to shut after him, which he did with an irritated slap.

“I’d like to fill out
his
form 842.”

Sera smiled. “I can just picture how you’d do it—with your fist.” She mimed punching. “A, B, D,
and
E.” Each letter was a jab.

“In triplicate.” He sketched a jab-cross-jab.

“So fast.” Her round eyes were impressed. But her smile faded. “We’d better get cracking on that prank. Um, just to be sure we actually work…” She took the bottle of honey whiskey and put it back on the top shelf.

Thor tried not to be disappointed. But his cock rose with her skirt as she stretched up to put the bottle on the high shelf.

Until a yawn wracked her.

He zipped instantly to her side, a solicitous hand on her shoulder. “Your double hours are getting to you. Let’s call it a night.”

Settling the bottle in place, she sighed. “Yeah, but if we don’t come up with a prank now, we won’t be able to test it in the morning. We’ll be practically winging it.”

“Then we wing it.”

I panicked.

Wing it?

“No!” Winging it meant potentially wild behavior—just look at what already had happened when I let wild creativity rule—and I was not going to risk that. “That’s a bad idea.”

“Why?” Thor’s gaze narrowed on me, as if trying to pluck the thoughts from my head.

“Because…” To cover, I said the first thing that popped out of my mouth. “Because we have to plan in order to get something good enough to win.”

“I don’t care about winning.” His eyes widened, and then he frowned, as if surprised by his own response.

“Maybe
you
don’t. Camille won’t really fire you. But she’s been looking for an opportunity to get rid of me. Not ‘fun’ enough, remember?”

“Sexy enough, though.” He grinned, but it faded. “Why is this job so important to you? Is it the money? Because I could always give you—”

“No.” I cut him off before he could offer me the single thing more intimate than sex—a loan. “It’s not the money. Or not totally.” I sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m a good listener.” His gaze on me was searching. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I
wanted
to tell him. But we’d shared something close—more lovemaking than sex—and I didn’t want to shatter our fragile truce. Until I knew how he’d handle the fact that I didn’t simply want to be serious, I
needed
to, I’d play my cards close to my chest.

Close to my breasts… Remembering how we started out, with my breasts playing peek-a-boo, he’d like that.

Which led to a nascent idea for a prank.

“How about this,” I said. “I strip on the bar. Only when I get down to ground zero, I’m wearing pasties here.” I pointed at the ladies.

His gaze zoomed to my chest; fangtips shot from between his lips. Then his face scrunched in an expression of supreme concentration, or pain, and they disappeared.

He met my gaze and growled. “I hate that idea. It’s a horrible prank.”

The rejection sliced. “It has the advantage that it doesn’t hurt anybody.”

“Except
you.
Besides, how’s that a prank? You have a gorgeous body.”

“It’s a prank because…wait. I
what?
”

“Gorgeous.” His eyes, firing, underlined his sincerity. “How about I put mustard in the beer?”

“Ew. Don’t ruin good beer.” I was still reeling over the idea that Mr. Drool-worthy thought I had a nice body. No, more than nice.

Gorgeous.

Inside, something blossomed. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, or embarrass them, or make them ill at ease.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “What part of ‘prank’ eludes you?”

I shrugged, uncomfortable. I knew too well what a prank was, and why it was funny…at least for the people it wasn’t happening to. The victims, on the other hand, didn’t have quite the same perspective. “Look, I had a mayonnaise donut idea that would’ve worked okay, except for the webcam.”

“What?”

“Long story. My point is, whatever prank we decide on, we’ll need a way to video it without anyone getting suspicious of why we’re aiming a camera at them.” I yawned again.

“You’re exhausted,” he repeated. “Go home, sleep on it. We’ll think better in the morning.”

“I couldn’t sleep, not with this hanging over me.” I scrubbed my eyes, forgetting I was wearing mascara. Oh great. Now I probably looked like a tired raccoon. “What if we pulled a prank on ourselves? Like that ice bucket thing?”

“Good idea, but that would disqualify us. Pranks have to be played on an unsuspecting party.”

“Stupid rules.” I nearly covered my mouth at me dissing rules, but frankly, I was too tired.

A lively tune popped from behind the bar. “What’s that?”

“Your phone.” Thor vaulted easily over the bar, grabbed something from underneath, and brought up my purse. “Your brother.”

“You know Bruno’s ring tone?”

“I pay attention.” His shrug almost looked embarrassed.

With a smile, I answered.

“Hey, Sis,” Bruno’s rough growl of a voice greeted me.

My brother was a shaggy bear of a man. Mom was always after him to get a trim, but the style fit. He ran the city’s survivalist store, Armageddon Three. You wanted your shoulder-launched, multipurpose, assault weapon freshest, you went to Bruno. But he was also simply a sweet guy—who had a bit of a thing for ladies heels. Don’t ask.

“I heard you’re entering the April Fools’ Day competition this year. Good for you, getting back in touch with your fun side.”

“Um, sure.” What could I say? He might have been ex-SEAL and stock military grade weapons, but he was my brother, and he worried about me. “I kind of have to. It’s to advertise the bar.”

“Hey, that’s a great idea. Play a good prank, and you get instant city-wide exposure. What?” His voice muffled, like he was covering the phone. “My friend Jocko just came in.”

“He’s on third shift?”

“No, this is the start of his day. He’s a real early bird. He just opened a gag shop next door to mine—Jocko’s Jokes. He needs all the free advertising he can get. He’d love to get in on your prank.”

I blinked, an idea forming in my sleep-hazed mind—which probably should’ve warned me. “Really? Where does he live?”

More muffled talking. Then Bruno came back on the line. “He has a house on East Roosevelt, number 892. Why?”

“Sera,” Thor cautioned. “What are you thinking?”

I set my phone to mute.

“We have a volunteer. We can do the ice bucket thing on him.”

Thor shook his head. “He’ll be expecting it.”

“No he won’t, not if we don’t tell him what or when.” I touched unmute. “Bruno, he’s in.”

“Great!” He hung up.

The Viking was still shaking his blond head. “I don’t know about this.”

“Come on, it’s the best of both worlds.” Relief rode me in giddy excitement. “We get our prank played on a victim who is both unsuspecting and willing.”

“Won’t he suspect something when he sees us coming with a bucket?”

“Yeah.” Disappointment fogged my brain—until an idea gamboled from the fog like a drunk deer. “So, we’ll wait until after he’s asleep. Then he really won’t expect it. I’ll call Bruno back and ask him to tell Jocko to keep his normal schedule and
not
attend the awards ceremony, so we’re sure he’ll go to bed. Even if we wait until ten, that’s a full hour before preliminary judging. Lots of time.” I couldn’t believe how lucky this was—a volunteer right when we needed him. Maybe Serendipity wasn’t gone after all.

I know, I should have just asked,
What could possibly go wrong?
and braced for impact.

Reluctantly, he nodded. “That would do. I still don’t like it, though.”

“But, you’ll agree to do it?”

“Well—sure. Fine.” The way he said it sounded less like sure and more like no way.

“Because I’m not winging it.”