What Happens in Vegas...After Dark (21 page)

His mouth was soft against her, tongue pressing hard over her clit, alternating quick flicks with swirls around it to draw the flesh of the clitoral hood to caress it. She wasn’t far away from coming. Just the sight of him walking into baggage claim had made her wet. His mouth on her, working her up, hands holding her open, she was helpless as pleasure, sharp and intense, burst through her, blinding her to everything but him.

Her pussy was still fluttering from climax when he flipped her over and put a pillow beneath her hips.

“I do love you like this,” he murmured and licked the line of her spine from the small of her back to her shoulders, delivering a sharp nip to her shoulder.

A crinkle of foil and then the press of the blunt, wide head of his cock at her entrance, pausing just a moment before he thrust deep with one movement.

She groaned into the pillows and scooted back to take more. The windows were open and a breeze blew the curtains gently, the sound of summer layering over his grunts each time he pressed home fully.

“Since you can’t reach your clit, let me help.”

She dug her fingers into the coverlet when his middle finger danced ever so lightly over her clit as he fucked into her body.

“I want to see your face,” she managed to gasp out.

He’d pulled out, flipped her over, tossing the pillow aside and thrust back in before she could take another breath. “Better? Now you can play with your clit yourself while I watch and I can see those gorgeous tits, too. I’m a lucky man.”

“I’m the lucky one,” she said softly as she touched his chest over his heart with one hand and her clit with the other. She wrapped her thighs around his waist to angle herself higher. His cock stretched her, making her clit hypersensitive and she gasped as he sped his pace.

“I need to come.”

She saw the flash of need in his eyes, saw the anticipation and she squeezed his cock with her inner muscles as she let go and embraced her second orgasm with a soft cry of his name.

“Christ,” he whispered and thrust into her hard, a feral intensity etched into his features that brought an edge of delight in her. That glimpse of the uncontrolled man just beneath the suave veneer he wore, that glimpse she brought on, swelled her pride and made her smile.

His eyes lost that intense focus and blurred as he thrust once more and came deep within her.

After rolling out of bed and coming back shortly, she’d brought iced tea for them both and he’d gulped it down and settled back, holding her against his body.

“I’m apparently going to be opening up another Dollhouse up here and you’ll have to get used to the drive south or load up on frequent flier miles.”

She craned her neck to look at him, her skin still pinked with a post-orgasmic glow.

“Oh, yeah?”

“You’re home to me. I’ve lived in several states, I’ve thought I’ve loved a time or two, but I’ve never been home, not really. And you give me that. I know this is new, but I just feel it’s right.”

She laughed. “I’ve known since about ten minutes after I met you. Each time you acted like a prick to push me away I knew somehow or other we’d end up back with each other because we’re meant to be. I have to travel for my job, but most of it is West Coast oriented so we can see each other frequently. I don’t expect you to just move up here and I can’t totally move down there.”

He kissed her, enjoying the knowledge that they had several days to spend like this.

“We’ll meet halfway. I’ll take over part of your closet, you can have half of mine and we’ll do it. Because I love you. I’m not even scared to tell you that.” He snorted.

“Good. Because you working with al those damned gorgeous dancers al the time without your admitting you loved me was really getting on my nerves. I love you, too.

Now, I think we can fit in another orgasm and a shower before you meet my parents. And by the way, your mother called me earlier today. She’s, um, quite a character.”

He cringed. “Sorry. She means well most of the time and she lives in Boston so there’s a whole country between her and us.” He laughed. “My brother married one of my dancers who’s now a CEO and I am going to marry a witch bounty hunter. She’ll be so pleased.”

“Marry?”

“Yeah. We live in Vegas, I’m pretty sure we can find a way to plan a wedding of some kind. I’ve got a ring in my carry-on. I’ll give it to you.” He paused and she laughed. “After you know, I give it to you.”

“Mmmm, yes to both.”

DIVINE DESIRES

Kit Tunstall

M alkiel Nixa exited the astral portal in a flash of light, marveling that a little less than two hours had passed since he had received the frantic call from his elder brother, Eli.

Mal had been in bed with a stunning blonde whose name he had already forgotten in the time it took for her to approach him at the nightclub where his band had just finished their performance, proposition him, and take him back to her apartment. She had been upset when he’d answered his cell phone, but the blonde had been extremely angry when he rolled out of the bed and threw on his clothes. In his need to get to the ancestral home and the center of the Nixa Coven, he hadn’t been tactful in prying himself away.

With a rueful shrug, Mal pushed the woman from his thoughts, knowing there would be an endless number of others just like her, parading through his life night after night.

However, he had only one father, and that thought focused him sharply on the task at hand. He pushed back the sense of helplessness that assailed him, knowing it would do no good to give in to the emotion. It was up to Mal to acquire the only antidote to whatever poison some cunning bastard had used on his father. That task had led him to Las Vegas, and he set out through the desert just beyond the Strip, his leather boots stomping through the loose sand. He dodged an occasional palm tree and wished it had been possible to materialize right on the Strip. He daren’t risk that, since people would notice the flash of light and his sudden appearance through an astral doorway. Las Vegas was a city where just about anything could happen without anyone blinking an eye, but someone would have noticed his dramatic entrance.

By the time he traversed the few miles to the Strip, the sun had set long ago, and sand had seeped into his boots. Mal cursed the annoyance, but didn’t pause to empty his boots when the flashing neon finally bathed him in its garish glow. Without moving, he stood where he had entered the Strip, orienting himself and allowing the invisible tug of the spell that he had performed in L.A. to lead him to the antidote. After a second, the cord binding him to the object of his mission tugged him south, and he joined the crowd of people strolling the Strip. Though only a Thursday night, there was a bustling crowd, and he was inconspicuous among them.

As he neared the nightclub for paranormals, Darkness, the hairs on Mal’s neck rose, and his gut tightened in response to the feeling of the pressure dropping. The vortex of various powers mingling in one location was almost strong enough to break the connection of his spell, but he focused on maintaining and strengthening the link. Once he was past the club, the connection returned with nearly enough force to knock him off his feet. Mal stumbled and might have fallen if not for a friendly hand bracing his shoulder.

“Bit too much to drink?” drawled a cowboy type with a knowing grin.

Mal nodded, said a word of thanks, and waited for the man and his companion to pass before turning to cross Las Vegas Boulevard. There were no crosswalks leading from Darkness to the Liege casino, but he walked between the cars as they waited impatiently for the light to change. When Mal stepped onto the curb in front of the Liege casino, the cord pulsed, urging him to rush inside at a pace that earned a few askew looks. Caught as he was in the grip of the locating spell, he was powerless to resist the compulsion to break into an almost-run. Just as Mal was afraid he would have to dash recklessly through the promenade of shops, he skidded to a halt, drawn to an abrupt stop by an invisible string. He stood outside the door of a tattoo shop. A purple-and-gold sign labeled the shop as Divine Inspirations. With a deep breath, he walked inside. The woman behind the desk failed to register any reaction or tug of the cord, so he knew she wasn’t whom he sought. “I’d like a tattoo.”

She nodded, tucking a stray strand of purple hair behind her heavily-pierced ear. The rest of her hair was mousy brown and as unremarkable as her features. In stark contrast, the woman who appeared from the back of the shop at the girl’s page was anything but ordinary. Unlike the receptionist, this woman hadn’t made her body a shrine to bizarre body art and piercings. She didn’t need to, he conceded with purely male interest that had nothing to do with his reasons for seeking her.

She was slightly shorter than average, with deep ebony skin. The simple white tank was a perfect foil for her dark skin, as was the intricate white tattoo adorning her left bicep.

The small flowers and curves teased his fingers, making them itch to trace each line of the band of ink. His gaze slid to the right to check out her breasts without his permission, and he exhaled raggedly. The beaded nipples pressing through the layers of fabric tantalized him, making him as hard as he’d ever been in a split second.

With some difficulty, he forced his gaze higher. Her delicate features and generous lips were worthy of hours of inspection, but he contented himself with mere seconds. The sight of her bald head gave him a moment’s pause. Curiosity made him want to ask why she had opted for the style, but he bit back the question.

It struck him that she was standing there awkwardly, looking a bit confused, and he realized he had been gaping at her like an idiot. A flush of embarrassment warmed his cheeks, and he tried to pretend it wasn’t there. Plowing a hand through his long hair, he said, “I’d like a tattoo.”

“Of course.” Her husky voice sent shivers up his spine, and his intense reaction mortified Mal. It took a concentrated effort to follow behind her without looking like a damned fool. Once seated in the room where she’d led him, he relaxed only slightly. It wasn’t at all as he’d expected. The chair was much like one he’d see in any dentist’s office, but the plush white suede bolstered calm—even in one who was practically terrified of needles, like Mal. The plan had seemed much better before he confronted the reality of voluntarily subjecting his body to multiple punctures with a tattoo gun. Feeling almost faint, he leaned his head back and breathed raggedly.

She was there in a moment, leaning close enough that he could smell her perfume. The subtle, feminine fragrance somehow soothed him, even as her proximity agitated him in an entirely different way than his needle phobia. He was suddenly optimistic about successfully completing his objective to acquire this latent vampire’s power-source. Before he had seen her, he had known there were only two ways to drain her power—through killing her or through seduction. He had refused to kill anyone, but the prospect of seducing someone to whom he felt no attraction had him questioning his ability to complete his mission—especially if the latent had turned out to be male.

Her soft hand made his skin tingle when she touched him. “Are you okay? Having second thoughts?”

Mal nodded. “I think I’ll skip the tattoo.”

She smiled, her chocolate-brown eyes warm with sympathy. “It happens all the time.

Have a nice evening, sir.”

Acting on impulse, letting attraction guide him, he touched her hand as she moved it away from his arm. “It would be a better night if you’d join me for a drink.”

Sparkling white teeth flashed when she drew her lower lip between them, clearly uncertain. “I don’t close the shop for another hour.”

He shrugged. “I’ll wait.”

“What’s your name?” She cocked her head, examining him. When her teeth released her lower lip, he assumed he had passed inspection.

“Mal Nixa.” He held out his hand, encompassing hers when she extended it. The cord binding them tugged sharply, and he took a step forward. Her aura brightened when he did so, telling him she was equally attracted.

“I’m Devi Madigan.”

“Devi.” He drew out the syllables, enjoying the sound on his tongue. Not as much as he’d enjoy her taste on his tongue. The accompanying image made his cock spasm, and he had to wrest his mind from playing out all the erotic possibilities. “So, will you have a drink with me?”

After a long second, she nodded. “I’ll meet you out front in two hours.”

He quirked a brow. “I thought you closed in an hour?”

“I do.” Devi winked. “I need time to get ready.”

Time was the last thing he had, but he couldn’t object to waiting. As Mal walked away, he had a feeling Devi would be more than worth the wait.

Devi finished dressing ten minutes before she’d expected, but found Mal already waiting for her when she closed up the shop. The black dress and leather jacket she’d changed into were appropriate for any club he might choose, but the clothes left her feeling exposed as his gaze devoured her, examining her from head to toe. The naked desire in his eyes made her shiver. It was good to have a man desire her. It wasn’t a novel experience, but had happened too rarely for her to be nonchalant about male appreciation.

She fumbled with the shop keys, and her heartbeat quickened when Mal took the ring from her. His touch ignited her senses. His long, nimble fingers sorted through the keys, and he deftly engaged the lock with the one she indicated. A small leap of imagination had her picturing those same lean fingers exploring her body, dancing over her skin, tracing every curve, niche and convexity. The way her body reacted to the fantasy of his touch left her breathless, wondering if the reality could compare.

As he slipped a casual arm around her waist, his hand splaying across her lower back, Devi decided she would do her best to find out. Mal Nixa was a sexy man. His long hair, almost touching his waist, invited her to thread her fingers through the silvery-blond strands. The light green of his eyes made her think of tropical grottos she had seen in magazines, while his pale skin suggested nights spent in darkness. She hadn’t dated a white guy before. The opportunity had just never arisen. If all went well on their date, she intended to see about making it happen. Why deny herself any pleasure? Life, in general, was too short to live void of fun. With Devi’s health, it was much too short to pass up a chance of sex with a man like Mal.