Immortal Distraction (5 page)

When a drunk young woman suddenly staggered into the corridor, she caught sight of them and started giggling. Angus stopped tormenting her body and moved to her side to shield her body from the woman who slunk away quickly. Brit was left staring at his neck, unable to look at his eyes while he stared down at her. His fingers moved to gently pull the fabric of her dress up and over her breast again, and the moment his fingers pulled away, the disappointment hit, and so did the shock. What the hell was she doing?

She stepped cautiously back from his body, finally meeting his gaze that watched her with their intense crystalline power. She exhaled a deep shaky breath as her eyes flitted from his. She could feel her brow flinching and wrinkling as the confusion of what she’d allowed to happen coursed through her mind, and with a final shake of her head, she moved past him. He watched, saying nothing, doing nothing, just watching.

Chapter 5

“So, you were getting ready to tell us where it was you disappeared to tonight?” Ember was speaking. She was a question asker, and nothing stopped her when she was on a mission for information. It was usually endearing … usually.

“I wasn’t actually.” Angus spoke from the back seat of Truman and Ember’s SUV as they wound through the traffic toward the council’s building.

“And why the hell do you smell like champagne?” She lifted her nose to the air and inhaled deeply. “I thought we couldn’t eat or drink. If I’d known I could taste wine again…” Truman glanced to her with a smile while reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Sorry, dear. No tastes. And if Angus was stupid enough to take a sip, he’ll be paying for it later. Imagine stomach flu vampire-style.”

“Relax. It wasn’t even a sip. A taste yes…” His lips curled up as he looked out the window. Ember was eyeing him curiously in the visor mirror.

“Does this have something to do with the detective? She’s very pretty Angus, and if I didn’t know you better, I’d almost say you had a bit of a crush on her.” He smirked but said nothing. But Ember didn’t need a reason to ask a question. She asked regardless. “What’s she like, the detective? She seems interesting.”

“She’s human, Em. Not quite girlfriend material if you know what I mean.”

“I was human until a few months ago. What’s your point?”

“I’m not Truman. I’m not a sappy romantic prepared to torment myself with a mortal.” Truman chuckled as he continued to hold Ember’s hand.

“Then who is girlfriend material? I mean if not her, who?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh but enjoying the conversation regardless, he responded, “Most of our kind, barring a few exceptions, and yes, I’m referring to you two, avoid the attachment of long-term relationships. What’s the point? If you fall in love with a mortal, they’ll eventually die. If you fall in love with an immortal, what are the chances you won’t get bored with them after a century or two?”

“You think we’ll get bored with one another?” She was incessant, but the look in her eyes as she studied Angus made it clear she needed an answer, and Angus had enough respect for her to give her one. Truman’s hand remained on hers, and he glanced at her. Ember was new, more than new to being a vampire, and she had no concept of immortality yet. But as they pulled to a stop at a stoplight, and Truman reached up and stroked her cheek with his hand as she leaned into the comfort of his touch, Angus was stabbed with guilt. Even if Ember was new to this, Truman wasn’t. He understood exactly what he was doing when he’d fallen in love with Ember; he knew what he was in for when he’d asked her to marry him. And Angus trusted Ember’s love for Truman completely as well. There was no doubt in Angus’ mind that Truman and Ember would be the forever couple, and frankly, he was jealous.

“No, Ember, I don’t think you’ll ever tire of one another. I know you both well enough to believe that wholeheartedly.” And as he shifted his focus out the window again, he thought out loud. “But I’m not sure I could ever be so lucky.”

“There has to come a time when meaningless sex gets old, doesn’t there?” It was Truman now who was grilling him.

“Trust me. I’m there already. But we can’t all be happily hitched to our soul mate for eternity.”

“We earned our happily ever after as you well know.” Truman’s gaze flitted to his in the rearview mirror.

“Yes you did, old friend.” There was no denying that fact.

“Better find your mate now, Angus. Before long, you’ll be too old to get it up anymore. You are old as hell after all. What is it, 500 or so odd years at this point?” Ember was chiding him. And she had them all laughing. She often did. Ember was like the kid sister he’d never had and never realized he wanted. She was charming, intelligent, and insanely in love with Truman. Her and Truman’s history together before Ember’s transition had been long and complicated, and it had nearly been destroyed, but here they were. The exception to the rule. They made forever seem possible, desirable even.

“I have a feeling I don’t really have to worry about that too much.” He was chuckling as they pulled to the curb outside the council’s building. But they didn’t enter with him. They were headed back to Gloucester where their home was, and he was retiring alone.

As he entered his residence, he felt alone. He wanted Brit. She was feisty, she was strong, and she was determined. But, and this was the part that made him putty in her hands, she was vulnerable. He could smell her fear, hear her heart race, and see the struggle it was for her to stay in control of her world. She left him wanting to defend her, help her, lead her. He liked her strength, but he relished her very human weakness as well.

* * * *

Brit didn’t even make it past her living room before stripping out of her dress. The spot where the champagne had spilled was sticking to her skin, and the wetness was now cold and chilling her. She walked naked to the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of wine. As she poured a small glass, she rubbed and massaged the cold skin of her breast. His mouth had touched every last inch of her breast that she now touched. She’d fallen apart the second he’d touched her, and she couldn’t get the image of him out of her mind. This wasn’t Brit. The elbow to the jaw was Brit, not the acceptance of a stranger’s mouth on her body.

She walked to her bedroom with her wine in hand and retreated to the bath. She soaked the stickiness away as she sipped her wine until she was pleasantly buzzed and her body was tingling. When she was finished bathing, she cranked the heat up a few notches before collapsing naked on her bed. Her cell phone rang, and she groaned. If it was dispatch, she was going to scream. She wasn’t on call for the night, but if there were any new developments or homicides that matched her suspects MO, she’d get the call.

“This is Detective Sutton.”

“Hi.” It was him.

“How’d you get this number?”

“It wasn’t that hard.”

“That’s not an answer, and you have no business calling me…”

“You still haven’t told me how long it’s been since you’ve been fucked.”

“And I have no intention…”

“Are you naked?”

“That’s none of your damn business.” She spoke the words as she looked down at her naked body sprawled out on her bed. The wine she was drinking was seeping slowly through her veins and leaving a warmth in her stomach.

“You know, you could touch yourself while I talk to you, and I’d never even know.”

“Why are you…?”

“You know why, Brit. I want to interfere with you. Toy with you. Toying can be enjoyable you know. Just like my mouth on your breast. You liked that didn’t you?” His voice was seductive, and she didn’t need to see his face for her body to respond. He was good at this.

“Stop.” But she didn’t really want him to.

“You can hang up anytime you want. But I’m not going to stop talking until you disconnect. So, how about you sit back and enjoy it. I promise I won’t tell anyone. Are you touching yourself yet? How about you pinch that nice little nipple I had so much fun sucking on?” Brit’s hand moved mindlessly to her breast, but she didn’t pinch. She rubbed, as if rubbing was somehow refusing his demand. When she realized what she was doing, she pulled her hand away … but not for long. Her nipple was already hard, and she fought to keep her breathing quiet as she eventually gave in and pinched down on the tight erect bud. “Are you touching it?”

“No.” But her voice wasn’t very convincing. And the fact she hadn’t hung up on him yet was damning to the defiance she was trying to exude.

“Oh, yes you are. You really do have impressive tits. Perfectly round, and your nipple was delicious between my lips. But your tits are the least of what I want from you. Can you imagine how my mouth on your pussy would feel? My tongue exploring the sweet wet folds of your sex? The very idea of tasting you makes my cock hard in the very way it makes your pussy wet. Just like it is now.”

“You know I could be recording you for harassment charges.” She could barely keep the lurching breath from escaping her lips as she spoke. She pinched down again.

He chuckled before responding. “I do like your feisty spirit, Brit. But we both know no DA in their right mind would listen to this and think you were anything but a willing participant. You can’t hide the arousal in your voice. Speaking of arousal, are you wet yet?” She was, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him. “Come on, Brit, tell me how wet you are for me.” His voice was so very controlled and calm, and it left her shuddering in desire to submit to his wants.

Her response was a quiet whimper as the walls of her vagina clenched down on the void that begged for his body within her own. He chuckled in response. “That’s what I thought. Now spread your legs open.”

“Fuck you.”

“You need only ask, sweetness. You can’t imagine how hard I am for you. I could barely handle being around you tonight, and I haven’t been able to stop touching my dick since I got home. Now touch your pussy for me. I know you’re wet, so I won’t even ask. You won’t answer me honestly anyway.” She was wet. Her body was responding to his voice, his words. She would give him no response, but she’d be damned if she was going to stop. She needed this.

“Now listen carefully…” His voice was quiet and calm as he continued, “I don’t want you to say a word. I know you’re fighting not to respond to me, and I know if we keep going, you’ll respond whether you want to or not, and you’ll regret it later. So mute your phone if you must, but don’t hang up. Just listen and let your hands do the rest.” She very nearly got her finger to the press the Disconnect button. Nearly.

When Brit hit the Mute button, she also hit the Speaker button and set the phone on the pillow by her head. Her heart was racing, her skin was prickling, and warmth was settling between her legs. The heat was reminiscent of the way good wine left her limbs weak and feeling as though they were filled with oozing hot liquid.

“Every time I stroke my cock, I imagine it’s your hand, your mouth, your warm pussy clenching down around me. Remember the feel of my mouth on your breast. Now imagine it between your legs? Lapping at you, licking you, nibbling along the sensitive skin. I want to suck your clit between my lips and lash it with my tongue until you’re going insane with pleasure.” She ran her fingers over her wetness, plunging into her body and then back out to rub her wetness over her clit. Her stomach muscles were clenching every time her fingers passed over her tight and aroused nub of nerves, and it was his mouth that she craved. She craved it in just the way he spoke of it.

His breath came as a gasp that cut through the silence before he started talking again. “Fuck, I want you. I want you to see how hard my cock is right now, and I would do anything to get inside your body.”

She was fighting to stifle the moans of pleasure, and even though she knew he couldn’t hear her, she had this irrational fear that he could as though he was in the room with her. But as she plunged her fingers into her body and pulled back out, wet and glistening in her cum, she lost control of her mouth, and her moans filled the room along with his voice.

“I want you to imagine fucking me, Brit. Play it out in your mind. I like it rough, but I swear, I’ll give it to you however you want it. Just let me get my hands on you. Fuck.” He sounded like he was losing control, and she was panting and so close to her own release she could barely take it. But she wanted this to go on forever. Brit was so over-deprived of intimacy that her body was crying out for more even before she’d claimed her release. Her heels were dug into the sheet of her bed, she was writhing, and there wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as her moans became loud and vulgar.

She could hear his deep, guttural groans as he pleasured himself, and when he spoke again, he was just as far beyond control as she was. “I want to pound into her pussy. Over and over again. God I want you to feel every inch of me inside your body. Oh fuck. I can’t wait any longer. You better be coming now, baby, ’cause I can’t take any more.”

She was whimpering and grasping and pulling at the sheets by her hip as her other hand continued to plunge and pull. She was seeping wetness, and when her orgasm finally slammed into her, she rolled to her side with her fingers still buried in her body as she listened to him come. His deep, guttural, and powerful groan was as much a turn-on as his words, and as her release subsided, she listened to his moans slowly taper off.

She lay watching the phone, expecting or waiting for him to say something. She should hang up. With any luck, he’d think she hung up without having given into his little game, but in truth, she didn’t want him to think that at all. She wanted him to know she was there and willing. It was inappropriate, but she did.

“Good night, Brit.” Then there was silence, but he was still there. She thought for a moment she should disconnect, but she waited. “I’m sorry. But I like interfering with you entirely too much to stop.” And then he was gone, and she finally disconnected. Staring at the ceiling above her bed did nothing to help her figure out what the hell had just happened. Her body was relaxed, and her wetness still lingered between her thighs, but her mind was spinning, racing through her thoughts. It didn’t make sense. Was she so deprived of a man that she’d commit the cardinal sin? He might not be a suspect, but he sure wasn’t on her side. Cops didn’t get involved with witnesses, though he could hardly be called that either. Person of interest, perhaps? An appropriate moniker for sure.