I'll Be Slaying You - Page 12/35

His mouth tore from hers. “Not stopping this time.”

“You’d better not.”

His lips pressed against her throat. Oh, Christ. Her sex creamed. Yeah, her panties were about to get really wet. Good thing she wouldn’t be wearing them much longer. “Bed,” she gasped. Not real big, but it would do. “Next…room.”

He’d had her naked, but she hadn’t seen him. Not yet.

Soon.

Flesh on flesh. Pleasure fighting the darkness. That was what she wanted.

Because the darkness always followed her, even in the daylight.

They fumbled their way to the bed. Kissing. Stroking. Hands sliding over flesh and making the lust spike.

Not stopping. Not!

He hit the button for the lights. No windows in this room. You had to have the lights to see.

She definitely wanted to see everything.

Dee shoved him onto the mattress and laughed when his eyes widened.

Then she stripped. Nothing fancy, because she wasn’t the strip tease type. Her borrowed shirt hit the floor. No bra. Not like she really needed one.

She kicked off her shoes. Pushed down her jeans—

“Damn, Dee.” He licked his lips. “I could eat you.”

No, this was her turn. Her panties fell to the floor.

His nostrils widened, just a bit.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” she told him.

He jerked off his shirt.

“Nice start.” Her gaze darted to his jeans. “But I’d like to see more.”

He held out his hand. She so didn’t need a second invitation. Dee climbed onto the bed. Onto him. Straddled him. Her fingers trailed down his chest. Tight, strong muscles. A few scars, faint white lines of raised flesh.

Dee hesitated at the sight, all too aware of the marks on her own body. She wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. Especially not after that last tangle with the wolf.

But to her, Simon was perfect. The marks just meant he was a fighter. A survivor.

Like me.

As she stared at that expanse of muscled flesh, Dee realized she’d never seen a man look so good or feel so right. She bent and licked one taut brown nipple.

His breath hissed out.

He liked that. Good. She used her teeth on him. A little nip. Nothing too hard, she didn’t want to—

Bite.

The whisper, almost a command, slipped through her mind and Dee jerked back.

Simon stared at her, eyes so intense. She shook her head.

His fingers rose, cradled her breasts. “You’re so beautiful.”

Lust could make men so blind.

Dee managed to unsnap his jeans. Being careful, though, because she didn’t want to jar the bandage she’d placed on his—

“Don’t go easy with me, babe.” He pushed up. “Trust me, I can take anything you’ve got.”

They’d see about that. His zipper came down with a hiss. No underwear. Her kind of man.

His cock was long and thick, bulging up toward her. The tip was dark, round, and smooth to the touch. She eased back, sliding her bare legs down his jean-clad thighs.

“Dee—”

Her turn.

Her mouth closed over his cock. Her tongue licked the broad head, tasted the saltiness of his flesh.

“Fuck me.”

She would. Eventually.

Dee took his length into her mouth. Looked up at him and saw his narrowed eyes, his clenched jaw, and the naked need on his face.

Just the way she wanted him.

Her tongue and lips teased. Took. Her cheeks hollowed as she worked his length.

She liked his taste. Liked the feel of his flesh and the jerks of his breath and—

His hand curled under her chin. “Can’t…not much longer…”

One more lick, to prove that she’d do what she wanted. Then, one more because what she wanted was him.

“Dee!”

A caress with her lips, then she freed his flesh. But she still tasted him on her tongue. “Why should you get all the fun?”

In a flash, he flew forward, and Dee found herself flat on her back, near the edge of the bed. His mouth was on her breast. Sucking, licking, tasting, and taking.

Okay, so this was…damn…fun.

His fingers pushed between her thighs. Stroked her sex, thumbed her clit.

“So wet,” he muttered, sending that lust-filled stare her way. “You’re gonna feel fantastic.”

So would he. Her teeth clenched and her heels dug into the bed. A few more strokes and she’d be coming. Just a few more.

A strong finger drove into her.

Dee bit her bottom lip.

“No!” He glared down at her. “Not this time. I want to hear every sound you make. Every sound.”

Her mouth dried. No holding back. She always held back. Pushed her partner, but kept her own control as she—

“I want everything.” Two fingers. “And I’m gonna have everything.”

Her head fell back. So she’d come this way first, fine with her. The second time, he could be inside, he could—

“No, babe.”

Her gaze snapped to him.

“Not without me.”

He shoved a hand into the back pocket of his jeans. Pulled out a small foil packet.

She loved a man who was prepared.

Of course, she’d also picked up some condoms at that rundown gas station. Just in case.

Because she liked to be prepared, too.

He ripped the foil with his teeth. Rolled the protection down his thick length.

Then he pushed her thighs apart. Wider. He stared at her flesh. “Beautiful.”

Simon drove into her, thrusting his cock balls deep into her sex.

She let her moan out, full and loud, because he felt great. And because she wouldn’t hold back, not with him. Her nails dug into his arms.

He withdrew. Thrust deep. Again. Again.

“Harder.” The coil within her tightened. Release—so close. So close.

Sweat slickened their bodies. Her hips rose to meet the plunge of his body. Faster. Stronger.

He stretched her, drove deep and had her shuddering for more.

Pleasure, that sweet release, was temptingly near.

Her legs curled around him. He pressed a hard kiss against her lips. His tongue thrust into her mouth.

Her sex quivered around him—that full, hard cock, driving so deep.

His head lifted. His teeth were clenched. Eyes glittering.

His neck was close to her. The strong curve of his shoulder. Close enough to—

Bite.

Her teeth snapped together. What the hell? Not during sex, she’d never wanted to—

His cock eased back, almost to the entrance of her straining sex.

She flattened her hands against his chest. Push away. Fight the—

His hot flesh slammed into her.

She came, screaming, “Simon!” Her muscles clenched as the white-hot wave crested. Her sex rippled around him, contracting as the pleasure blasted her.

“Better,” he growled and his fingers dug into her hips. He lifted her up, arching her toward him and thrusting fast and deep. “So much better.”

He bent toward her, pressing his lips against her neck. Tasting and licking her flesh. The muscles in his arms bunched. So much power there, so much strength.

He came on a long shudder, pumping out his release.

Her sex throbbed around him, the aftershocks of pleasure reverberating through her core.

Dee sucked in a breath. Then another one. She licked desert-dry lips.

His tongue skated over her neck.

She shivered. Nice.

His hold tightened around her as the sound of her drumming heartbeat filled her ears.

Oh, yeah, she’d known it would be that good. When a guy oozed sex like Simon, a good time was pretty much guaranteed.

Her hands skimmed down his back, and Dee realized that his muscles were locked tight. “Simon?” He’d come, she knew he had.

His lips pressed against her neck once more. A bit harder this time, then his head rose. His eyes were such a turbulent gray. Stormy.

“I don’t ever want to hurt you,” he told her, voice gruff.

Her brow pulled low. “Then don’t.” Simple enough.

A finger rose and traced her cheek. “You cried when you came.”

Dee blinked. “I—” Okay, now she didn’t know what to say.

“One tear drop. Just one.”

“I don’t usually—” Hell, she never cried. Not in years, anyway.

His lips pressed against hers. A soft, gentle touch after the wildness of the lust. His cock was still lodged in her, and swelling.

His mouth lifted, just an inch. “You can trust me,” he breathed the words.

She’d already trusted him with her body. What more did he want?

But she could read the answer in his eyes. Everything.

And suddenly, even the heat of his body couldn’t warm her. Because everything—she’d never had that to give a man.

They slept. Finally. Dee drifted away in Simon’s arms. The sleep was deep, heavy, and filled with the soft whispers that haunted so many of her dreams.

Go, baby, go! Get out. Hurry! Her mother. Always warning her.

Dee—Dee, why didn’t you help me? Sara. Always blaming her.

So many voices. So many.

Why, bitch, why’d you come after me? The vampires. Their last words haunted her.

Fucking whore. More of my kind will come. More. You can’t stop us. Twisted murmurs that followed her into the darkness.

She couldn’t escape the voices. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t—

“Dee. Dee. Wake up.” Strong hands shook her.

Her eyelids flew open. Simon stared down at her, his hair tousled, his face grim. “Someone’s here.”

A surge of adrenaline had her out of the bed and dressed in moments. They ran to the outer room. Dee grabbed two stakes and a gun.

Simon didn’t reach for a weapon. Funny, she’d actually never seen him armed.

She killed the lights and inched toward the window. A car door slammed outside. Gravel crunched beneath someone’s feet. Carefully, she pushed the curtain back, just a tiny crack of space.

Darkness without, to match the blackness within.

Night had fallen.

The vampires would be at full strength again.

But since when did vamps come right up to your front door when they wanted to attack?

Her eyes adjusted almost instantly to the dark and she motioned with her hand, pointing for Simon to take up a position on the left hand side of the door. The right side would be hers.

As she watched, the door knob began to turn. What? The bastard had picked the lock? Skilled SOB.

Not that lock-picking talents would save his ass.

Dee waited in the darkness. Silent. Steady.

The door swung open. The scum walked inside.

Dee attacked.

She moved fast and came in hard. She caught the guy with a hard punch in the gut, then slung him back and rammed him into the wall.

Simon slammed the door closed. Good. Who knew how many of the bastards were out there? Better to separate them and make them weaker.

“Start talking,” Dee ordered, pulling out her stake. “How many of your asshole friends are out there waiting for their turn to jump me?”

The guy moved, shifting from a hunched shadow to the tall, strong form of a man. Dee stared at him, frowning as—

“Dammit, Dee! Why the hell do you always have to punch first?”

She knew that voice. “Simon, hit the lights.”

A bright flood of light lit up the room, and Dee stared at an all too familiar face. “Tony? What are you doing here?”

He pressed a hand to his stomach. Groaned, then said, “I’m here to arrest you for murder.”

Chapter 7

“The hell you are.” Simon lunged forward. No one would be taking Dee away from him. No one.

And sure as shit not the bastard who’d been her lover.

Captain Antonio Young lifted his chin and glared at him. “Who are you?” His hand still rubbed his wounded stomach.

“The guy who’s been watching her ass.” Simon let his lips curve into a feral smile. “And there’s no damn way you’ll be taking Dee out of here.” But if the cop wanted to try…

Come and get some.

“Simon.” Dee caught his hand. The cop’s eyes dropped at the move, narrowed. Oh, didn’t like that, huh? Too bad.

She bit her lip. “Are you…are you okay, Tony?”

He instantly dropped the hand he’d been pressing against his stomach. “Fine.” Bit off. “I thought you were up here alone.”

Ah, so that’s why Lancelot had come bounding to the cabin.

“How did you know I was even out here?”

Dark eyes flickered over her face. Too much emotion there. “I know you pretty well, Dee. I knew where you’d go if you wanted sanctuary.” He held up a key. “And I stayed here with you before, remember?”

The hell he had. Simon’s vision bled to red. So what—Dee had a habit of bringing lovers here?

Not any longer she didn’t and if that pretty boy kept looking at her with his puppy dog eyes, he’d plant a fist in the guy’s face.

Dee glanced at Simon, then looked away quickly. “I remember. That was a long time ago.”

Good to know, and Simon didn’t want to hear any more about that. “Dee didn’t kill the woman.”

The cop blinked, then looked over at Dee’s left hand. Her fingers were clenched around a wooden stake. “Evidence says otherwise.”

“It was a setup,” Simon gritted. “The vamps want to take her down.”

“Why?”

Dee jerked away from him and marched toward the weapons cabinet. Some women collected figurines, Dee—

Instruments of death.

“Why the hell would they go to all that trouble?” The cop, Tony, shook his head. “Vamps don’t work like that. They kill, drain a vic dry, and—”