The Lady Is a Vamp (21 page)

“Hmmm,” Russell commented. “And they’re moving pretty quick.”

“Well they did say that we were in for a doozy of a storm tonight,” Sharon said with amusement. “High winds, buckets of rain. The whole works.”

“Did they?” John Corby asked his wife with surprise.

“Yeah, Cecily and I heard it on the radio on the way back from London this morning,” Sharon said and then shook her head with exasperation. “I told you that when we got back from shopping.”

“I didn’t hear you,” John said with a frown, his gaze sliding to their dock and cottage with concern.

“You never hear me,” Sharon said dryly.

“Well, you need to speak up, woman,” he teased absently, and then sighed and got up. “If we’re in for a storm, I guess I’d best make sure the boat’s secured and have the boys help me gather up anything we don’t want blowing away.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Russell commented, getting up as well and taking his wife’s hand to tug her out of her chair. “Thanks for the fire, Paul. Jeanie. A pleasure. We’ll do it again tomorrow if you’re up to it.”

“We’d like that,” Paul said easily, glancing to Jeanne Louise as she stood and folded her lawn chair in preparation of taking it up to the cottage. He got up, put out the fire, and then helped her gather the chairs as the other two couples took their things and headed away. They stowed the chairs in their usual spot, and then picked up their own bits strewn about that they didn’t want blown away, towels that had been hung on the line to dry, Livy’s sand pail and shovel, the raft and her water wings . . .

After one last look over the yard to be sure they hadn’t missed anything, Paul whistled for Boomer, who was romping on the shoreline. He then glanced up the side of the cottage to where Livy and Kirsten stood hunched over, poking at something with a stick in the front yard. “I guess its bath and bedtime for small fry.”

“I’ll take Boomer in, feed him, and run the bath while you get her if you like,” Jeanne Louise offered, smiling as she peered toward the two girls.

“Thanks.” Paul nodded and squinted his eyes. “What the hell are they poking at?”

“A dead bird,” Jeanne Louise answered, narrowing her eyes. “They’re prodding, not poking. They’re sure it’s sleeping and are trying to wake it up.”

“Oh God,” Paul muttered and started toward the pair, Jeanne Louise’s soft laughter behind him. He stepped around the cottage just as Cecily appeared in the yard next door and knew she had come in search of her daughter as well. He smiled her way, then glanced back to the two girls and called, “Livy, honey, leave that poor bird alone and say good night to Kirsten. It’s time for a bath and bed.”

Livy turned startled eyes his way, then glanced around and frowned. “But it’s still light out.”

“I know, but it’s late, muffin. Besides it looks like it’s going to rain,” Paul said patiently. “Come on. A bath and bed.”

“You too, Kirsten,” Cecily called. “Say good night to Livy.”

“Okay,” Kirsten said with a put-upon sigh. She then turned to Livy and hugged her. “We’ll play again tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay,” Livy said with a smile, hugging her back. The pair then parted to rush toward their respective parents.

Paul held out his hand, smiling when Livy grabbed it. She skipped along at his side as he led her back around the cottage to the kitchen door. As promised, Jeanne Louise had a bath ready and waiting and agreed easily when Livy announced she wanted her to give her her bath that night.

Paul felt a pinch of hurt that she’d choose Jeanne Louise over him, but he was also glad. His daughter liked Jeanie, and it was obvious the immortal liked her too. He thought that could only be a good thing, and as he leaned in the door watching the two females laugh and splash water, Paul allowed himself a brief fantasy of their being a family . . . of Jeanne Louise staying with them, and Livy getting better and growing up . . . of a future. It was a beautiful daydream that had him smiling widely.

Paul and Jeanne Louise both put Livy to bed after her bath, tucking her in, and each of them kissing and hugging her good night . . . which just seemed to further his fantasy. Paul felt warm and safe and content as he caught Jeanne Louise’s hand to lead her from the room. Once in the living room, he paused and turned to her, then cupped her cheeks in his hands and simply stared at her face. She was so precious, this woman. Somehow she had become as important to him as Livy. He’d give his life for her, just as he would Livy. Each of the two females possessed a piece of his soul.

Paul wanted to express all that, to tell Jeanne Louise how he felt, but he didn’t have a clue how to say it, and in the end simply bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead, each eyelid, her nose and then finally her lips.

When he lifted his head, Jeanne Louise opened the eyes she’d closed as he’d kissed them. They were glowing softly in the dim light, a vibrant silver blue. She smiled softly and said, “I love you too.”

“I do love you,” Paul said at once, relief sliding through him as he acknowledged what he was feeling, what all his feelings meant. He hadn’t known what to say, but in the end it was so simple. He loved her. She’d understood that and she loved him too. Thank God, Paul thought, and then he kissed her again, but this time it was no gentle caress, it was hot, and passionate and demanding. He wanted all of her, body, heart, and soul.

Jeanne Louise moaned and arched against him as they kissed, her hands clasping his shoulders. But when he tore his mouth from hers to seek other pastures, she whispered, “Not here.”

Pausing, Paul raised his head to peer at her in question, and then glanced to the side when Jeanne Louise nodded that way with her head. He found himself looking out the picture window along the side of the living room and straight into the Jacksons’ kitchen. Russell, Cecily, and their oldest son sat at the kitchen table playing some sort of board game. Even as he looked, Russell glanced over, spotted them and smiled and waved.

Paul automatically smiled and waved back, then caught Jeanne Louise’s hand and turned to lead her to the stairs to the lower level. They could have just gone to the master bedroom, but he was mindful of having woken Livy the night before with their cries the first time. They’d tried to be quiet the subsequent times after that, using pillows, the blankets, and even each other’s bodies to muffle the sounds of their pleasure, but suspected this time even that wouldn’t help. He felt full to bursting with emotion, and he was ravenous for Jeanne Louise. Paul was hoping that the bit of distance combined with the flooring would help muffle whatever sounds they made.

J
eanne Louise was silent as Paul led her downstairs. She knew he would soon ask her to turn Livy and that the time had come for her to tell him about life mates and her having only one turn. But after. Admitting the feelings that had grown so quickly in her over the past several days, and hearing him speak his own aloud made her want to hold him, be held by him and welcome him into her body. She wanted to make love with him and knew it would be all the sweeter because she now knew his feelings for her.

Paul led her through the small TV room at the foot of the stairs, past the first bedroom and on to the last one. The one farthest from Livy’s room, she noted and thought that could only be a good thing. He led her straight to the bed before stopping and then turned and began to remove her clothes, brushing her hands away when she tried to touch him or his own clothes.

Jeanne Louise let him have his way, standing still as he removed her clothes one item at a time, his hands sliding over her body as he worked, offering brief, teasing caresses. When Paul had her naked, he urged her onto the bed, then turned his attention to his own clothes, stripping them away much more swiftly and with less care as he stared at her where she reclined on the bed. His shirt went first, muscles rippling as he pulled it off over his head, and then he removed his jeans and boxers together.

Paul stepped out of them to climb onto the bed beside her and settled on his side next to her. When Jeanne Louise reached for him, he caught her hands and pinned them on either side of her head as he leaned down to kiss her. She could have freed herself easily, but didn’t, merely kissing back and arching her body until her breasts rubbed against his chest.

They both groaned as the contact sent pleasure rippling through them, and were panting when he finally broke the kiss.

“You need to feed,” he whispered, pressing kisses to her cheek and ear.

Jeanne Louise nodded and smiled slowly. She’d fed again on both Cecily and Sharon while they’d prepared the salads for dinner, but needed more.

“What’s that smile about?” Paul asked with amusement when he lifted his head and caught sight of it.

“I was just thinking I know exactly which vein I want to tap this time,” Jeanne Louise murmured, and his eyes widened.

“Oh,” he asked with interest, nipping at her lip. “And which one would that be?”

“If you’d care to trade places with me I’ll show you,” she promised.

Paul raised his head, peered at her briefly and then chuckled and shook his head. “You do like to be on top, Miss Argeneau.”

“Do you mind?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Paul grinned. “Not at all. But this time you’ll have to wait. I intend to have my way with you first.”

“Your way with me, huh?” Jeanne Louise said with a husky chuckle that died when he released one of her hands to slide his own over her body, cresting one breast before letting his fingers dance down across her stomach toward the apex of her thighs. By the time his fingers slid between her legs they were both breathing heavily.

“Why is it when I touch you I feel pleasure?” Paul asked, his voice almost a groan.

“It’s called shared pleasure,” Jeanne Louise gasped out, as he began to shift himself down her body, his mouth following the trail his hand had taken just seconds ago. “You feel mine and I feel yo— Oh God,” she groaned as he dipped his head between her legs, his fingers and mouth now working together and making her forget what she was saying . . . along with everything else.

Jeanne Louise was vaguely aware that Paul was groaning along with her as he worked. But it was just a peripheral awareness. Her concentration was on the fire burning in her belly, and the tension building in her body. God, he was good at that, Jeanne Louise thought wildly, digging her heels into the bed and dragging a pillow over to cover her mouth as she became aware that she was starting to get a little noisy. But then he was experiencing her pleasure along with her, was feeling exactly what felt best, and knew right when to increase the pressure or tempo.

She stopped thinking after that and became nothing but sensation, her body singing to the tune he was playing until the tension finally exploded in a rush of pleasure that had her screaming wildly into the pillow. Jeanne Louise was so caught up in it that she didn’t even hear Paul shout out with her. She felt it though, a reverberation against her skin that simply seemed to add to what she was experiencing.

P
aul woke up to find himself lying flat on his back on the bed with Jeanne Louise leaning over him, kissing and nibbling her way down his throat to his chest. When he reached for her, gliding his fingers into her hair, she lifted her head and smiled at him.

“Time to feed,” she whispered with a naughty smile that made the blood rush south. She then brushed his hand away and continued what she’d been doing, now paying attention to first one nipple and then the other before continuing downward. It seemed it was her turn, and Jeanne Louise was going for the vein she’d mentioned earlier.

Obviously not the neck or arms, Paul thought wryly as she traced a path across his stomach. He moaned and shifted under her teasing, his hands fisting in her hair as she nipped at his skin. But as Jeanne Louise moved lower, he caught her hair up in his fingers so that it no longer curtained her face and he could watch her nibble her way to and along his hip bone.

By the time she turned her attention to his shaft it was already completely erect with anticipation. When Jeanne Louise caught it in hand and ran her tongue its length from the base up until she could curl it around the tip, Paul groaned and closed his eyes. When she then took him in her warm, wet mouth, he had to release her hair for fear of pulling it out.

Christ, this wasn’t the first time a woman had done that to him, but it had never felt that damned good before, Paul thought. But then no other woman had enjoyed the aid of that shared pleasure business she’d mentioned. He had no doubt it was guiding her just as it had him, that feeling his pleasure with him, Jeanne Louise was able to tell exactly what felt best and where and how to caress him to the best effect.

Shared pleasure was definitely the bomb, Paul decided, and his last semi-sensible thought was to thank God for it and for whatever scientist had created nanos that allowed for it.

Twelve

J
eanne Louise stirred sleepily and opened her eyes. She was in bed in the downstairs bedroom . . . alone. Paul had slipped away. He’d also covered her first, she realized as she sat up and the blankets dropped to her waist.

She glanced toward the door, wondering where he’d gone and then smiled when she heard the sound of soft footfalls coming down the stairs in the other room. Paul appeared in the door a moment later, naked as a baby and bearing a tray with two plates of food and glasses on it. He smiled when he saw her sitting up.

“You’re awake.” Paul set the tray on the bedside table, and then leaned down to give her a quick kiss. As he straightened, he said, “I checked on Livy, made us sandwiches, locked the doors and turned out the lights.”

Jeanne Louise nodded, but asked with interest, “Sandwiches?”

He chuckled at the question, and crawled onto the bed next to her, arranged and fluffed both of their pillows for them to lean back on, then pulled the sheets over to cover himself before picking up the tray again. Paul settled it on his lap and smiled at her. “Hungry?”

“Mmm.” She nodded, her gaze moving over the sandwiches. “What are they?”