Immortal Healer (15 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Finn

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Paranormal, #Vampires

BOOK: Immortal Healer
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Her morning hadn’t started out so tense. Well, perhaps it had been tense—just a decidedly sexual tension. He’d stood behind her at the bathroom counter as she’d twisted her hair into a bun and fixed it in place with pins. He refused to look away from her eyes. How was that possible? She could barely hold his eyes after the night before, and she couldn’t seem to get the pathetic pink in her cheeks to cool. He closed the space between their bodies, letting his hard arousal rub her lower back. And after he’d taunted her body into a frenzy, he spoke. “So, if this judge decides to lecture you a bit before letting you loose, what are you not going to do?”

“Slap him, punch him, kick him, yell at him, mock him, spit on him, or knee him in the groin.”

Her sarcasm had been quite plentiful, and as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head it was with a quiet murmur against her skin. “That’s my good criminal.”

Now, however, was a far different situation. She was just plain nervous. She was waiting for the relief of the gavel. That’s all she needed. Devlin beside her gave her no strength, confidence, or calmness at all. He had too damn good a reputation to let one lowly emotionally disturbed girl, with a hot temper, ruin his pristine record, and that was all the good he was to Abigail. It was enough though.

Rap! Rap! Rap!

It was hard to keep herself from jumping into Quentin’s arms as she moved away from Devlin, but she didn’t have to be so pathetic. He scooped her up, holding her tight and close to him. His face was as buried in her neck as hers was in his, and they stayed that way for far longer than what was appropriate. When he slowly lowered her back to the ground, he captured her lips with his, and her insides turned to mush. Talk about inappropriate.

All she wanted was to be alone with him. Just him. She was happy his friends had come too, she really and truly was, but she was ready for just him. They hugged, pecked her on the cheek, and beamed at her as though she just won the lottery.

“So, what shall we do to celebrate?” It was Ember.

She groaned inside in need of something that his group of friends simply couldn’t fill. But she didn’t have to stifle her disappointment.

“Celebration is going to have to wait, Em.” Ember pouted, but there was a smirk playing on her lips the entire time. “Abby and I have plans.” Hmm. Well that was news to her.

They said their good-byes, parting with the group in the parking lot, and the moment they were seated in his car, he opened his mouth. “I assume you like ice cream.” Duh. Ice cream was … well … ice cream.

“I do, yes.” She tried to sound mature about it, but there was no maturity to her need for sugar, and for an overcast, warm summer day that warranted a celebration there was no better sugar in the world than ice cream.

They ended up at the Riverway, sprawled on the same blanket they’d taken to the Hatch, her with her ice cream cone in hand, trying to eat it while lying with her head in his lap. He watched her intently as she licked the ice cream in just the nick of time before it dripped. They were near the arched bridge, and it was beautiful and quiet. The weather was warm but not hot, and it would go down as one of her favorite memories of life; she was certain of that. There was enough tree cover and clouds that Quentin seemed comfortable and relaxed, and there was no denying she was.

When she missed a drip, and it fell to her chest, he quickly reached to wipe it away from her skin, holding his finger up to her mouth. She sucked his finger into her mouth as heat burned through her cheeks. He watched her mouth, and his nostrils flared. She also couldn’t ignore the feel of his erection growing against her cheek. It set her body on fire, and as she released his sweet sugar covered finger from her mouth, she smiled.

“Not even a taste?”

“Sadly no, and I’ve never tasted ice cream.”

“You have no idea what you’re missing.”

“I’m well aware. I’ll have to take your word for it.” He watched her a moment longer, running his thumb along her jawline. “So, outpatient treatment starts Monday…”

“Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. I get to choose the days of the week, and I can vary them if I need to, so long as it’s three full days.”

He nodded. “So perhaps now would be a good time to start thinking about school this fall?” He was appraising her curiously.

She’d thought about it plenty, but there had been little sense really planning when she had no idea what her future would hold. But now…

“Yes. I’d like to go back this fall.” She looked at him hopefully. She didn’t need his permission. She knew that, but she sure as hell wanted his support. She was nervous about returning to school, terrified really. “I’ll probably have to take a few of my last stats classes over just to get back up to speed, but I was less than a year from graduating, and I can’t see giving up all the time and energy I already applied…” She was rambling.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. We’ll get you registered for fall term next week.” She smiled. He smiled. His thumb continued to stroke her skin, and she spent the next minute catching up on eating ice cream before it melted down her chin.

After her ice cream was gone, she started to fall asleep on his lap as he slowly pushed his hand up under the bottom of her shirt and stroked her stomach. She loved the feel of his fingers along her skin. It surprised the hell out of her, but she did. He was beautiful, but that wasn’t why. He was supportive, but that wasn’t why either. She trusted him … perfectly. There was no question of how much she trusted him; it was just there.

She dozed, waking occasionally to either see his eyes off on some distant sight or already looking down at her. He remained sitting, resting back on his hands in perpetual strength that left her tired body feeling lazy and so very human, and when she finally sat up stretching, she met his eyes. “Do you really not intend to have sex with me?”

“Haven’t you asked me this question a few times?” He was smirking.

“I’m hoping maybe you’ve changed your mind.”

He reached for her cheek, pulling her mouth to his. He kissed. It was a tease though, and he pulled back quickly. “I have changed my mind. I’ve decided such a girl as yourself deserves to know exactly what fucking is supposed to be about, and I intend to make sure you enjoy it immensely.”

She shivered at the sound of his voice. His mouth was mere inches from hers, still teasing her, and it was so very effective. She leaned into his mouth only for him to pull back, always keeping his lips just an inch or two from hers. “Not here, sweetie.” He kissed her nose and stood, pulling her to her feet.

They left midafternoon, and he held her hand as they strolled slowly back to the car. “I want to go away for a couple days with you.” She said nothing, but her brow wrinkled. “I have a small beach cottage on Nantucket. It’s very secluded, surrounded by bluffs of tall grass, and it’s only feet away from a great expanse of private beach.”

“When?”

“Right now.”

There was no argument to such a proposal. Hell yeah, she’d go away with him to a secluded beach front cottage with or without the tall damn grass. She nodded, and his nostrils flared. He looked like he was ready to eat her alive. Perhaps the cool, calm man who made her feel safe and quiet, was as needy as she was.

 

 

* * * *

 

 

 

It
was
a beautiful small home, and once they’d entered, he showed her around. The living room had old plank flooring with a warm rug. The furnishings were simple Shaker style pieces that were perfect for the home. There was a bedroom, a small office and a bathroom off the living room, and the kitchen was part of the open living room. The windows looked out at the ocean, and the bedroom had its own set of French doors that opened to the paving stone patio that ran the length of the front of the house facing the ocean. He was right. It was secluded and quiet, and she thought she could likely stay here forever with this man and have everything she could ever need.

The sun was setting, but his skin looked slightly flushed from being out in the daylight for too long. He excused himself to take a cool shower while she put the small amount of food they’d brought for her away. There was only the slightest tinge of purple pink light left in the dusk sky when he re-emerged, and her jaw dropped as she saw him. He was naked. He’d not bothered dressing after he’d finished showering, and he appeared completely at ease in front of her. If only she could say the same.

She followed him into the bedroom, and he pulled the French doors open wide as she stood by the bed. The sound of the surf and the occasional gull were all that could be heard, and when he turned back to face her, she started to tremble. She pulsed with need she thought she’d never feel again. A few short months ago, she’d have staked her life on it. But he was naked, and all she wanted was to see him, touch him for the first time, and have his body in any and every way she could.

“It’s high time you threw in the towel on this celibacy thing.” She blurted it out quickly, before she could even think of some tactful way to say what was on her mind—not that he hadn’t already made it clear he intended to.

He offered her a small smile that held his own longing and need too, but then that smile turned to a smirk. “But it’s been almost twenty years.” He was taunting her.

“Fuck twenty years.” Her words drifted off as her gaze wandered mindlessly back down to his groin. There was no way he was going to torment her. She wanted him so much she thought she just might cry if she didn’t get her way. Fuck his twenty years.

“Take your clothes off.” He was watching her with those damn ravenous eyes again, and as she fumbled to get out of her clothes, he watched her every move. She wanted to look sexy, but that wasn’t happening, and as she stepped out of her pants, she tottered over and nearly fell into the nightstand as he chuckled. But she eventually made it out of her clothing, and when he approached her where she stood, she took a deep breath, and he lunged, capturing her mouth with his. He thrust his tongue between her lips, and she opened her mouth in invitation. Oh yeah, his twenty years was toast.

Kissing him was like caving into an intense craving so long overdue it was painful. He plunged, stroked, and explored her mouth with the same fervor she felt coursing through her veins. And as he continued to take her lips over and over and delve into her mouth, he pushed her down onto the bed.

He climbed above her, pushing her knees apart and settling in over her body. She could feel his cock brushing gently over her stomach, and she was shocked at how comfortable she was with him looming over her. He wasn’t giving her any false sense of control. He held it all, but there was no fear. It stoked a warm heat in the pit of her stomach that left her feeling safe and worshiped by him.

His fingers wandered down her chest as he broke from her mouth. She watched him, and when his fingers met the tight erect bud of her nipple, her eyes closed, and she moaned. She wanted to watch, but her eyelids fluttered as the pleasure took her over. She could feel his cock flex and jump against her lower abdomen. And she was so ready to touch him, her fingers trembled at nothing more than the thought alone. When he abandoned her nipple, it was to pull her hand to his mouth and take his place beside her. He started sucking and kissing wet sloppy kisses all over the palm of her hand. She could see only his eyes over her hand, and they held hers as she felt and enjoyed the touch of his lips and tongue against her palm. She was gasping quietly, and when the passionate kissing finally ended, she moaned.

He pulled her hand from his mouth and guided it slowly down to his erection, and when her fingers finally closed around his breadth, she whimpered, and he groaned against her shoulder. She wasn’t frightened though. She was shocked, in a way, that she wasn’t, but she’d been waiting to touch and experience his body, and she could only watch her hand move over the length. Her hand was slippery against his smooth hard skin, and she could feel the raised veins as she moved over them. When she reached the head, she let her fingers pass over the bulbous end as he groaned loudly, and her own warmth and wetness flooded between her legs. When he dropped back to the bed, she rolled to her side and continued to stroke.

He couldn’t seem to stifle the groans coming from his mouth, and she watched his face as his lips parted and then closed. She could see his fangs, white and perfect between his lips, and every time he opened his mouth, she was drawn to them. She’d seen Mason’s plenty, and they terrified her every time. But seeing Quentin’s was a far different thing. There was little doubt he meant it when he said it was a good thing Mason was already dead. It didn’t take much imagination to picture this man tearing his throat out to protect her. And she loved those teeth on him for it.

When he abruptly grabbed her hand and slowed the gentle glide, her brow furrowed. It’s not like she had any real clue what she was doing, and she was suddenly quite certain she’d committed some cock stroking faux pas. “This is going to be far too short and sweet if you don’t take a break from that, and let me have some fun for a while.” He smirked, and she relaxed.

She didn’t have to wait long to find out what this man considered fun, and as he moved down her body and lowered himself to lie between her legs, a shiver ran out through her from where he’d touched her skin. His fingers reached for the cleft of her lips, and as he looked to her eyes, he parted them. She trembled from nothing more than those two fingers holding her sex open. She knew there was far more to come, and she was quite certain it would leave her quivering like a loon in front of him.

He leaned to her, and every muscle in her body clenched down tight. When she felt his lips suck her clit into his mouth, she nearly came unglued. The very notion of what she was allowing this man to do was almost as arousing as the act itself … almost. She could likely come from the intimacy alone. His lips sucked her clit gently, and when his tongue passed swiftly across the tight bundle of nerves, she cried out loud and dug her heels into the bed. His eyes shot to hers, and she could feel his lips pull up in a smile against the wet skin of her vagina. One hand found a slat on his headboard while the other gripped the sheet at her hip and twisted. Her hands were gripping tight, as if holding on for dear life, as he latched himself to her clit again, lashing, licking, sucking, and flicking his tongue against her skin.

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