“I never really thought of it that way,” Quentin said slowly. He got up and refilled his wineglass and walked over to the window. “I've spent most of my life running away from all this stupidity, you know.”
He stood there, his back to me, facing the cathedral. The huge shadow of the statue of Jesus cast by the spotlight on the back of the building seemed to be almost beckoning me to get up from my chair and join Quentin. I couldn't help staring at his broad back. It was beautifully sculpted underneath his tawny gold skin. His shoulders were thick and capped with perfectly shaped muscles, and his back tapered down to a narrow waist. There were two dimples in his lower back just above where the curve of his perfectly shaped ass began. His khaki shorts were loose, and as before, I could read UNICO on the waistband of his underwear. There was a small patch of dark gold curly hairs in the center of his back just above the shorts. The shorts hung down to his knees, over defined, thick calves.
I got up and walked up behind him. I leaned against the frame opposite him, but we were still very close. I could smell himâa mixture of cologne and sweat that seemed deeply masculine and remarkably sensual and arousing.
He was more muscular than Sebastian had been, and Sebastian hadn't exactly been a ninety-eight-pound weakling.
I wanted to kiss his thick, sensual lips, put my hand on his muscular chest.
But I wasn't completely sure if my attentions would be welcomed, if he could feel the electrical current flowing between us. I swallowed nervously.
He looked at me and smiled. “Would you be interested in coming up to Bayou Shadows with me?” he asked. “Watching the ritual might be interesting for youâin your work, I mean.”
My work?
I gawked at him for a moment before remembering Rachel had introduced me as an expert in the supernatural. “Would you like me to?” I asked quietly.
“I think I'd like that very much, Cord.” He reached over with his free hand and traced his index finger along the side of my face. “You're a very beautiful man.” He took another step toward me until we were so close we were almost touching.
I licked my lower lip and placed my left hand directly onto his chest. His skin was silky and incredibly warm, almost feverish, to the touch. I could feel his heart pounding beneath, and I was glad I'd fed so deeply from the stripper the night before. The hunger wasn't there, and there was no worry I might lose control with him and sink my teeth into his neck.
But I couldn't help but wonder how his blood would taste.
He leaned closer, and his chest pressed against mine. He placed his lips against mine. He tasted of wine, and I opened my mouth and allowed his tongue to slip inside. I closed my mouth around his and sucked on his tongue as he pressed his hips against me, and I could feel the enormity of his erection through our clothes, its need and urgency.
I put my left hand on his ass. It was hard and solid, and I let my other hand drift down, our mouths still pressed together, and grabbed hold of his erect penis. He clenched his ass and pushed against me, and I raised my left leg and wrapped it around his, pulling him deeper and closer into me. His hands cupped my ass and lifted me almost effortlessly until I was up on my toes. He was so strong, and desire raced through me, desire and the need to be naked with this remarkably beautiful man.
He pulled his head back and smiled, his eyes half closed. “I wanted you from the moment you walked in here this afternoon,” he confessed in a low voice. “All I could think of when I saw you was how badly I wanted to fuck your pretty little ass.” He squeezed my ass again, and I bit my lower lip, my eyes closing. “I knew it was hard as a rock, just like the rest of you. You are so beautiful . . .” His voice trailed off as he stepped back from me. He walked back into the apartment, undoing his shorts and stepping out of them as he headed for his bed. His red underwear had ridden up slightly into the crack of his big muscular ass, exposing hard smooth cheeks that only heightened my desire.
He turned as he sat down on the edge of the bed, and I could see the head of his enormous cock sticking out through the waistband of his underwear. He smiled at me and lay back, beckoning me forward. I pulled my shirt over my head, dropping it on the floor as I walked toward the bed. A cool breeze came through the open doors and kissed my skin. I shivered slightly as I undid my shorts and slid them down until I stood naked before him. I stepped out of them and put both of my hands on my hips. My cock strained up against my stomach.
He smiled at me. “You're even more beautiful out of your clothes than you were in them,” he whispered, licking his lips.
I knelt between his legs and grabbed his cock with my hands. I leaned down and flicked the head with my tongue. His body trembled.
“That's nice,” he breathed. “Oh, yeah, baby, that's good.” His voice deepened. “You want to suck that big dick, boy?”
I looked up at his smiling face and replied, “Oh, yeah.”
I slid his underwear down and off his feet, tossing them over my shoulder. I ran my tongue from the head all the way down the underside of his cock until I reached his thick balls. I took one of them into my mouth gently, sucking on it before gently letting it slip between my lips and taking the other one inside as well. I spit on my left index finger and traced it down from his balls to the entrance between his muscular ass cheeks. I tapped his hole with my fingertip, smiling as his entire body began to slightly tremble with anticipation. I let the other ball slide out and ran my tongue up the underside of his mighty cock again. A drop of precum oozed out of the slit, and I smeared it with my right index finger as I slowly began working the left finger inside of him. I looked up at his face, above the rippling abdominal muscles and the thick slabs of his chest. He had a nipple in each of his hands, twisting and pinching them. His eyes were closed, and he pursed those beautiful red lips.
I took his cock into my mouth, tightening my lips around it as my tongue continued to lick and toy with the head. I slid my mouth slowly down the big shaft, stopping about halfway down as my gag reflex involuntarily reacted. He was so big I wasn't sure I could take all of him inside of my mouth, let alone into my ass. I'd never seen a cock this large outside of Internet porn. Jean-Paul, Clint, and the others were all nicely endowed, but nothing on this scale.
Even Sebastian, whose cock had been thick and long, paled in comparison to his twin.
I closed my right hand around the base of the massive thing and continued working the top with my mouth as I started stroking him with my hand.
“Oooh, baby, that feels so good,” he whispered, and I felt his hand on the top on my head. “I want you to fuck me, but I don't want you to stop that.”
I let his dick pop out of my mouth, and I gave him a lusty grin, relieved that I wouldn't have to take that monster inside of me. “Baby, I'll fuck that hot ass of yours into next week.” I winked. “And I bet it's hot and tight, isn't it?”
I pushed his legs farther apart and stuck my tongue into his musky hole, tasting him and working the rim with my lips as I moved my tongue in a circle inside of him.
He was gasping for air, his hand still on the top of my head as I continued working him. His ass tasted strangely sweet to me, almost as though it were some strange kind of nectar my body needed, craved, and desired.
I took my mouth off him and slid up his body until we were face-to-face, cock-to-cock. I ground my cock into his as I forced my tongue into his mouth, hoping he could taste himself in my mouth.
He brought his legs up, pressing his ass against my hard-on. He reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube, squeezing some into his palm. He massaged some into his hole and then slicked up my cock before pointing its head directly into him.
“Ride me,” he demanded, his voice urgent. “Fuck me, make me your bitch.”
I grinned down at him and shoved myself as deep inside of him as I could go. I got a few inches inside before meeting resistance, and rather than forcing my way in, I stopped, allowing the head to rest against the obstruction.
His breath was coming in tiny little gasps as I stayed there, half inside, not making a move to go any farther, just teasing him.
I put my mouth next to his ear. “You want that cock, don't you, bitch?” I nibbled on his earlobe.
His back arched upward. “Yes, please, oh God, yes, please I want you . . .”
With a nasty smirk, I started sliding back out of him.
“No, don't, pleaseâ”
“I want you to beg,” I replied, not sure where this side of me had come from. But it was what I wanted, what I needed to hear. I wanted him to beg me to fuck him, beg me to ride that beautiful, muscled ass, to just fuck him and fuck him until he was blowing out a huge load all over himself while I blew one inside of him. I just wanted to fuck him and fuck him and fuck him, but first I wanted this big, beautiful muscleman to beg me to do it. I wanted him to be mine, to own him completely, to dominate him and ride him, to fuck him like no one had ever fucked him before so he would remember how I felt deep inside him, so he'd never forget, so that he would remember when he was alone and tugging on himself, his eyes closed, remembering how my cock felt, how much of a load I shot into him, and make him my willing sex slave, who'd want me to tie him up, spread-eagled so he was defenseless while I worked and teased and toyed with his ass, that big round hard beautiful muscled ass.
And I finally understood how erotic it was to be dominant, to use your cock solely for the pleasure of another man, to drive him insane with desire and pleasure and lust while you pumped him and filled him completely, and I understood finally why Jean-Paul had done some of the things he had done to me.
I understood how erotic and arousing it was to have your man tied to the bedposts, unable to move, unable to resist you, unable to do anything other than whimper and moan and beg and plead.
And I slammed deep into him, and the resistance I'd encountered finally gave, relaxing and surrendering to me almost the very instant my cock's head reached it.
Quentin relaxed and took me, accepting me as his lord and master, his dominant top, and I knew he was mine when the deep guttural moan of pleasure came through his amazing lips, as his eyes half closed and all I could see were the whites because the pleasure was making them roll back up.
I plunged all the way inside of him, my balls slamming against his muscular cheeks, grinding my hips from side to side as I tried to get my entire body inside of him.
His eyes bulged open and he let out a long, drawn-out moan of pleasure.
And I started riding him, pounding away at him, in and out, harder and faster, listening to him and taking joy in the sound of him unable to catch a breath, gasping from the intensity of the pleasure my cock was giving his beautiful ass, looking down at his magnificent body as sweat began dripping down my face, drops falling from my chin and my nose onto that beautiful smooth velvety skin, his skin becoming moist from his own rising sweat, the hair in his pits becoming wet as rivulets of water ran down the sides of his face, and I kept pounding at him as he gasped and groaned and moaned from the intensity of it all.
And his mouth opened and a guttural cry roared out of him as thick, stringy ropes of milky white cum began shooting out of him, each shot accompanied by a scream and an incredible twitch.
And I slid out of his trembling, shaking body, shooting my own onto his torso, mingling mine with his.
And then I reached out and put my mouth on his, laying my torso against his, the sticky mixture of our juices smearing onto both of us as we kissed, our hearts pounding together.
I rolled off to the side and stared up at the ceiling fan, which was slowly turning over us, cooling our slick, hot skin.
He got up, his legs slightly trembling, and tossed me a towel to wipe myself down with as he took another towel and did the same.
He smiled at me. “Wow.” He was breathing hard, and a trickle of sweat ran down his chest.
I smiled back at him. “Yeah.”
He crawled back into the bed with me, putting his arms around me and pulling me close. I kissed his cheek and lay there for a while.
But finally, I knew I had to go, so I got out of the bed and slowly began to dress.
He watched me, his eyes still half closed. “You can't stay?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“But you will go to Bayou Shadows with me?”
I nodded. I wrote my phone number down and placed it on the nightstand.
“I'll call you when I've made the arrangements with my grandmother.” He followed me to the door and kissed me again.
I placed my finger on his lips. “I look forward to seeing you again, Quentin.”
And I walked down the stairs and out the front door.
C
HAPTER
9
“W
ell, it's not a bad idea,” Rachel said carefully, tilting her head to one side and scratching her chin. “And it does go along with what you found out, Nigel.” She gave me a snide smile. “But it wasn't absolutely necessary for you to fuck him, was it?”
“I don't know why it's such an issue for you.” I stuck my tongue out at her. “I don't know why you hate sex so much. Maybe if you tried it sometime, you wouldn't be so jealous and nasty when someone else does.”
They'd been waiting for me when I got back to the house. As soon as I walked in the front door and saw them sitting there, I could tell by the bitchy look on Rachel's face that she'd known exactly where I'd been and what I'd been doing. Nigel, on the other hand, I couldn't read his face. He was like the sphinx. He hadn't spoken since I'd walked in, instead merely sitting there watching and listening to our back-and-forth bickering without even changing his expression.
Rachel simply gave Nigel an exasperated look and a slight shrug, like she was saying,
See? I told you so.
She turned back to me and sneered, “Aren't you even curious as to what Nigel found out, baby? I thought you were so very concerned about your
friend.
” Her voice went into an even nastier tone. “Or has your dick taken control of your brain again?”
She was worse than Jean-Paul. But her bitchy attitude didn't make what she said any less true. I squirmed a little in my chair. I glanced over at Nigel, whose face was still impassive.
“Don't bicker, children,” he finally said, sounding more tired than anything else. “Although I have to agree with her, Cordâit wasn't the smartest thing to sleep with Sebastian's twin brother. We don't know anything about him other than what he has told the two of you. He could be no better than his brother wasâcould be worse, in fact, and may have reasons of his own that aren't in your best interests, so getting involved with him in any way could be dangerous.” He tried to lessen the sting of his words by giving me a tired smile.
I stopped myself from responding angrily, instead doing what my parents always told me to do when in danger of losing my temperâI counted to ten while taking deep breaths. When I reached ten, I felt calmer, and exhaled. I took another breath and was able to smile and nod at him. “You're right, of course, Nigel. I wasn't thinking. But I don't think he's a danger. I didn't sense any from him.”
“Did you sense danger from Sebastian?” Rachel asked sweetly.
“I wasn't completely a vampire when I was with him, I was transitioning,” I replied in the same tone. “It may have been a mistake, yes. But it's done, and I can't change that now.” Rachel's eyes narrowed; I sensed she wasn't happy I hadn't reacted the way she'd expected, which was more than fine with me.
For all I knew, she was inside my head anyway.
“No, she isn't.” Nigel waved his hand tiredly. “I don't allow that in my presenceâand she knows I disapprove.” Her lips narrowed at this rebuke, but she simply bowed her head. He shook his head.
I opened my mouth but didn't say anything out loud.
“But it's okay for
you
to be reading my thoughts?”
“I don't need to read your thoughtsâthey're written all over your face.” Nigel reached into his satchel and removed a file folder. “I did my research, and what Quentin told you wasn't untrueâalthough whether he was telling the truth about everything remains to be seen.” He shrugged. “I cannot say; he has the witch bloodlineâthat much I do know is true.” He sighed.
“I couldn't read his thoughts,” Rachel said, her voice meek.
I shot a startled glance at her. This was a side of her I hadn't seen before and I wasn't sure what it was about. Was she always this deferential in Nigel's presence?
There was still so much I didn't understand.
“I cannot sense him,” Nigel went on, “no matter how much I concentrate. So these Narcisses are a very powerful bloodline.” He shook his head, his longish white hair bouncing. “But there is very little about them in the Nightwatcher records and histories, which makes no sense to me.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It's hard to believe any family of witches could have escaped our notice, especially one so powerful.”
I sighed. I knew Nigel was a Nightwatcher, but I was also really sick and tired of both of them acting like I knew what exactly that meant. “Nobody's perfect,” I replied, “and certainly not even the great Nightwatchers, whatever the hell that means. Can you two tell me exactly what Nightwatchers are? I'd greatly appreciate it.” I crossed my legs. “Some kind of supernatural police force? Is that what you both are?” I waved a hand. “Come on, would it kill you to be up front with me about this stuff? The Councils and everything?”
Rachel inhaled sharply, but Nigel just smiled at me. She started to say something, but he grabbed her wrist, and she closed her mouth, bowing her head. “Now, Rachel, you've complained endlessly about how poorly Jean-Paul educated young Cord, and this is simply another example of just how uneducated Cord is about his new worldâsince Jean-Paul didn't teach him, we shall have to.” He clicked his tongue while he shook his head.
“Yes, Nigel,” she said meekly.
“Were you a good student, young Cord, when you were in school?”
I really didn't like being called
young
Cord any more than I liked Rachel calling me a baby, but then if he was indeed thousands of years old like Rachel had said,
young
probably wasn't a strong enough description of how I seemed to him. Besides, if it meant the old man was finally going to tell me what the hell was going on, I'd gladly let him call me anything he wished. I raised my chin proudly. “I had a three-point-nine GPA at Ole Miss,” I replied, giving Rachel a snide look, “and I was valedictorian at my high school. So, yes, I was a good student. I learn quickly and I retain what I learn.”
“Right,” Rachel whispered, her voice barely audible.
“The Nightwatchersâhow best to describe what we do?” Nigel mused. “In a way that you will understand?”
“You're right, Cord. We're like a police force.” Rachel broke in, returning my snide look. “Only we deal with supernatural beings, rather than the mundane human crimes regular police have to handle. Humans don't know we existâ which is safer for usâso we are charged with making sure they don't learn of our existence. It's our job to make sure no supernatural creature exposes us all to danger. It took centuries to convince humans that we are mythicalâcenturies of hard work.” She shook her head. “So, sometimes when one of us, for example, is too obvious or isn't careful enough or goes mad, we have to step in and clean up the mess.” She leaned back in her chair and stared at me coldly. “Which is why we are here now.” She gestured to the bedroom door. “Cleaning up the mess you created.”
“So, where were you when Sebastian was trying to turn himself into a witch-vampire hybrid?” I matched her stare. “Seems to me that was a job for you Nightwatchers.”
“There was no need for us to become involved,” Nigel replied before Rachel could say anything. His smile didn't falter. “We were aware that Jean-Paul and his fraternity were on the case, as it were, and Jean-Paul is not a fool, no matter what you might think and despite how ignorant he kept you. He knew the danger if Sebastian was allowed to complete his conversion. I was monitoring the situation, and had Jean-Paul not done his duty, we would have intervened. Our intervention wasn't necessary, as it turned out.” He shrugged. “But then again, we are perhaps being too hard on Jean-Paul. I am sure he thought he had a lot more time to educate young Cordâand it's only been two or three years since his conversion.”
“And two years is nothing compared to eternity, of course.” Rachel sighed. “Although letting this one out on his own so young, so unaware of the dangersâ”
“ENOUGH!” I shouted, making them both jump. I got up and paced over to the double doors, sliding them open. Jared still lay there, exactly as he had the last time I'd seen him, on his back with his mouth open. His bare chest rose and fell slightly as he inhaled and exhaled. I sat down on the bed and stared at my former best friend. I reached over and brushed an errant lock of hair from his forehead. I was sick to death of them and their constant talking in riddles, their treating me like a stupid child. It galled me to no end that I couldn't order them out of the house the way I wanted to, because I needed their help with Jared.
And ultimately, I would swallow my pride and my dignity. I would take Rachel's insults and condescensionâbecause Jared needed them.
“Please accept my apology,” Nigel said from the doorway behind me. I turned my head in time to see the front door shutting behind Rachel. He walked over to the wingback chair in the corner and very carefully sat down, crossing his left leg over the right. “I asked her to leave us alone so I could speak frankly with you.”
“I try not to let her bother me,” I replied. “I know she's not really mad at me, is she? It's Jean-Paul she's really angry with.”
“There is bad blood between the two of them, yes.” He nodded. “She had a friend . . .” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.
“Philip?”
“Ah, she told you, then.” Nigel sighed, and for a moment I could see how old he truly was. “A terrible tragedy. We have yet to find him, you know, and we've been looking for him for twenty years.”
“She didn't tell me the whole storyâjust that I reminded her of him. What happened?”
He stared at me for a few moments, and just when the silence started to get uncomfortable, he said, “He was converted by a rogue vampire, one who had gone mad. Gunther's story is actually rather sad. Several centuries ago, he fell in love with a beautiful young German peasant, and they were lovers. Gunther had hoped to convert the young peasant to be his companion, but when he found out what Gunther was, he ran from him and fell to his death. It drove Gunther mad. He spent all of his time trying to find his lost love. For centuries he searched for him. And then, twenty years ago here in New Orleans, he found Philip and was convinced Philip was the reincarnation of his love.”
“How . . . sad.” I shook my head. “Poor Gunther.”
Nigel wiped at his forehead. “I'd been hunting Gunther for quite some timeâhe was quite powerfulâbut as his madness grew, he was exposing himself and his true nature to more and more humans. I followed him here and sensed his discovery of Philip. But he was able to hide himself from me. I came so close so many times only to have him slip through my fingers, and so I found Rachel to help me find them. He had already taken Philip, had started converting him. We were able to rescue Philip, but Gunther escaped. And I converted Rachelârecruited her to become a Nightwatcher. Her potential, you see, was so strong. It had been centuries since I'd come across one such as her, and she has been an invaluable associate.” He sighed again. “But the tie between Philip and Gunther was too strongâPhilip ran away from us and joined Gunther. We've looked for them everywhere since then, with no luck.”
“So that's why she's such a bitch,” I said without thinking. “Was she in love with Philip?”
“No, Philip was gay. He was like family to herâthey were very close.” He looked at me and smiled. “And yes, I can see why you remind her of him. There's something about the shape of your face, and the eyes, and your build is very similar.” He reached over and took my hand. “So, try to understand Rachel, and be kind to her. I know she's been rude to you, and abrupt, but seeing you is very hard for her. You remind her of what she's lost, and she still feels that pain very deeply.” He rubbed his eyes. “When you're as old as I, sometimes it is very easy to forget what it's like to be young, how difficult it is to let go of someone.”
“How old are you?” I asked, wondering if he would actually tell me.
“Your mind cannot comprehend how old I am, Cord. I am older than the pyramids.” Nigel looked off into the distance, his voice growing softer. “I was old when the pyramids were built. I've seen thousands of years, millions be born and die. I saw the rise and fall of Rome. I stood on the walls of Troy and watched the Greek fleet land. I witnessed the great Flood from the Old Testament. I remember what is called in your religion the Garden.”
My jaw dropped. I could think of nothing to say to him in response. Thousands of years old? “The Garden of
Eden?
” I swallowed. I was twenty-three. That was like the blink of an eye to him. He was right; his age wasn't something I could wrap my mind around. “So, you knew Adam and Eve? How is that even possible? Are you saying that there were vampires before there were humans? I . . . I don't understand how that could be.” He didn't answer me; he just met my eyes, and his were so incredibly sad I had to look away from him. It was like looking into them was a window through the centuries, and my mind couldn't handle it.
“Jean-Paul should never have let you go off on your own, Cord. Never. It was criminally negligent, and when we are finished here, I shall have to talk to him.” He held up a hand. “Oh, yes, I am sure you were quite exasperating to him. I am sure you pushed his patience to its limit; I can see that within you. But that is still no excuse. What he did was tantamount to a death sentence for youâand one thing we have always stood for, from the beginning, was the protection of our vampire children.” He swallowed, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths.