Forever Vampire

CHAPTER FOUR

FAERY ICHOR TO VAMPIRES was like meth to mortals. And once the vamp got a taste, he needed more, more and more. Lyric knew, because a dust freak had once worked for Charish, and had caused chaos for the few days he’d resided at the Santiago mansion.

“I just … do it to maintain,” Vail said, with a stroke of his thumb across the black stuff smudging his eyes.

“Maintain?” Lyric didn’t hide a shake of her head. “That’s what they all say while they’re lying in some dust den, sucking in the ichor. It’s so obvious now. You have sparkle issues.”

“Is that so? Well, you’re avoiding the real issue. Like the fact there is no fence, and you expect I’m going to wait this out forever. Don’t be stupid, Lyric.”

“I’m not stupid. But neither am I willing to trust a dust freak.”

He gripped her shoulder and spun her about. It hurt, his fingers digging into her skin, but she wasn’t about to let him see her pain. Lyric pulled the ice princess on and stiffened her spine.

“I’m immune to dust,” he said. “I’ve spent a lot of time in Faery. Now that I’m in the mortal realm, I need to take dust every now and then to maintain it in my body—otherwise I’d go through withdrawals.”

“Sounds like an addict to me.” She shoved him away.

A flash of moonlight glinted at the corner of his eye, like a beacon calling her to fix on his dark glamour. It wasn’t worth the risk if he was a dust freak.

“This little dance we’re doing is getting old, Vail. I’m tired, but most of all, I’m hungry.”

“You tell me where to find the gown, and I’ll let you out to scam for some blood.”

“You won’t offer me your own?”

“Would you take it?”

“No. Wouldn’t want to have to maintain because of you.”

If even a trace of faery ichor scurried through his veins, she’d taste it and she’d become addicted like that. Addiction was not something Lyric was willing to risk simply because the blood hunger currently tightened her veins and made her jittery.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said, smoothing a hand over her thigh to distract from the burgeoning shakes. “There’s a club down the street. They play heavy metal and the blood is always hyped with adrenaline. Let’s both go out and have a drink, then I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“You tell me what I want to know, I’ll let you out on a leash.”

“Bastard.”

“Ice princess.”

“Oh, you use that tired old title, too? And here I was beginning to think you weren’t like the rest of the male vampires. I’m going.”

She started for the window, but he beat her to it, sliding across the bed before she could touch it.

“Fine.” Vail parked himself on the windowsill, blocking her escape. He clasped his ringed fingers together and narrowed surprisingly compassionate eyes on her. “I know what it’s like to hunger. You’re not going to give me anything until you’re satiated, relaxed.”

“You got that right.”

“I’m not a complete creep. I’ll let you feed.”

“Thank you.”

“But we’re not going inside the club. I need to keep you close. You try to get away, you’re going to regret it.”

“Ooh, you going to dust me with your sparkle juice?”

“You willing to take that chance?”

She met his steely blue gaze. Faery dust glittered about his eyes and in his hair. It must seep from his very pores. She wondered now if she’d gotten any on her hands, but did not look, because she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. A little skin contact wasn’t going to make her high—the dust had to enter her veins. She hoped.

“I’m sure we can find a nice mortal couple in the parking lot. One for each of us,” she said.

“I don’t do mortals.”

Comment wasn’t necessary. That was apparent. The guy was fucked up, and that would make her escape a breeze. She just had to play along for a while. “Let’s go.”

HE DIDN’T TRUST HER as far as he could blow dust into the eyes of his enemies. And that was about five, six feet maximum.

After a five-minute walk they stood outside Club Vert. Hard, growling music pounded through the brick walls, and patrons danced outside the back doors, which were curvy and appealing, designed after the Art Nouveau style.

Vail and Lyric sat on the hood of a black Renault Mégane, watching the crowd shift in and out of the club. The interior was decorated in more Art Nouveau and plenty of green, Lyric explained. The club offered absinthe that mortals inhaled through a long straw, à la freebasing, as opposed to drinking. Provided a faster, cleaner high. Vail favored absinthe himself, but not extracted from mortal veins.

“Those two.” Lyric jumped from the car and smoothed palms over her hips and down her backside.

Vail couldn’t help but appreciate the tight curve of her derrière. The soft red dress conformed like skin on skin, emphasizing the slight cleft and the sexy dimples at the base of her spine. Those long legs had to end somewhere in the vicinity of her armpits. Legs like that could wrap around him and hold on for the ride.

Legs like that could also kick him in the jaw, which he entirely anticipated should he put the moves on this wicked vixen.

“Not going to happen,” he muttered, as he watched her approach the mortal pair who, hand in hand, searched for their car. They chatted with Lyric. She pointed over her shoulder at him. Vail offered a nod, hiding his disgust. The woman, a redhead sporting a nose ring and a bare midriff, smiled drunkenly.

He suspected Lyric had done this before. Not getting two mortals to succumb to a vampire foursome, but rather, lying to achieve a goal. She was lying to him about the fence. Had to be. But he could play her game. He must if he was ever to get the answers he needed.

The trio approached, the man’s arm around his girlfriend’s waist, and the other arm draped across Lyric’s shoulders.

“Nice,” Vail said to them as they walked by, leading him toward the end of the parking lot where the streetlight flickered and a dented black van sat parked in the corner.

Chain-link fencing surrounded the parking lot, bent up here and there to admit a person or a stray cat through the overgrown weeds that probably never saw a mower’s blade. Security lights beamed over the entire lot, but here, the van shadowed their encounter.

Lyric was already cozying up to the man by the time Vail rounded the back of the van. The sight of her running her hands up the man’s arms and whispering in his ear increased Vail’s heartbeats. But for the life of Herne, he wasn’t sure if it was arousal or—no, couldn’t be jealousy.

The mortal woman threaded her arms about his shoulders and tugged him around toward the front of the van. She breathed whiskey onto his face. “You’re sexy,” she tried, enunciating carefully as drunks often did when they thought they could conceal their inebriation.

“And I love redheads,” he replied, allowing her to kiss the corner of his mouth sloppily. Mortals. No attraction whatsoever.

Keeping an eye on Lyric, he nudged his nose along the woman’s jaw, following the rapid pulse that did not call to him. It was just a heartbeat.

He bent closer to her skin, drawing in the acrid scent of whiskey, yet beneath that something deeper lingered. Life. It gushed and throbbed. So unique how mortal blood took on the scents and taint of the things they consumed and put on their bodies, which was why it did not attract him. Ichor remained pure, no matter what the sidhe had consumed.

Remembering his captive, Vail glanced aside, pushing curls of red hair away to better see. His ice princess hadn’t bitten her mark yet; she was prolonging the tease, working the mortal to a sexual frenzy. Spiced with adrenaline, it must make the blood hotter, perhaps even tastier.

And yet, it was just a tease. Vail maintained the staunch insistence ichor was the only sustenance for him. And it was. But a weird part of him, something he didn’t want to examine too closely, suddenly tilted his head down to inhale the scent of mortal blood. It didn’t smell awful. Actually, it smelled appealing, whiskey and all.

What was that about?

The woman read his subtle exploration incorrectly, and palmed his cock through his leather pants. That both pissed him off and pushed him over the edge he’d been toeing since kissing Lyric earlier. The vampiress had gotten under his skin, and he had wanted to get under, into and all over her skin—until she’d touched her blood to his mouth.

He’d never take vampire blood.

Moans slipped from Lyric’s mouth now, her mark matching the sensual tones. Scent of jasmine and cherries distracted Vail from the mortal woman’s whiskey perfume. She kissed the edge of his mouth, but he didn’t want her sloppy attempt at intimacy.

“Swoon for me,” he whispered, penetrating her mind with persuasion. You feel so good. Better than you’ve ever felt.

“Kiss me back,” she murmured. “Don’t you want me?”

The persuasion was not working. Why couldn’t he utilize the thrall in the mortal realm? Was it akin to the power Hawkes insisted he claim?

He considered dusting her, but mortals didn’t drop like vamps, they usually went into a swoony kind of reel.

Pressing his fingers along her neck, he found the subclavian nerve below her clavicle and increased pressure. Just a second or two … Sleep took her quickly. She relaxed in his arms.

He dropped the woman noiselessly at his feet. He glanced to the van—the mortal man hugged the rear fender, delirious. Blood ran from his mouth.

The vampiress was gone.

Vail leaped over the sprawled female and tilted the man’s head to the side. “Did she bite you?”

“Bite me? Dude, she punched me. Think she knocked out a tooth. What’s up with that?”

What was up was that the wily vampiress had been waiting for him to drop his guard so she could escape.

“Stone-headed vampire!” he cursed himself.

Trotting along the row of parked cars, he spied a large gap in the chain link. Ducking through, Vail emerged in the pristine parking lot of a car dealer. Hundreds of cars were parked row after militant row. Perfect place for a vampiress to hide.

Vail kicked a tire and swore again. His cell phone rang and he angrily tugged it out from a front pocket and answered. “What?”

It was Rhys Hawkes wanting an update. At one o’clock in the morning. Their kind did keep odd hours.

“I had her. Yes, the Santiago chick. But I lost her.” His eyes scanned the cars, searching for movement. She couldn’t have gotten far. “Yes, I know. I’ll get her back. But she says she fenced the dress.”

“We need that bloody gown,” Rhys muttered. “When you find her, you put the screws to her to get her to talk. Torture her if you have to.”

“With pleasure. I’ll call you tomorrow, Hawkes,” he said, and snapped the phone shut.

Torture, eh? This job was turning into a real riot.

A rail train rumbled by, the horn blaring as it passed a nearby crossing. Ducking and eyeing the cars at hood and trunk level, Vail didn’t spy anything out of place. So, he lay on his back, looking heavenward. He turned his head left. No feet or crouched bodies tucked behind a wheel. And then right. A pair of red heels peeked out from behind a rear tire. “Gotcha.”

LYRIC WOKE AND WRINKLED her nose. Mildew. Smelled like that damned awful bed in the apartment where she’d been squatting.

Her wrists stung and her jaw hurt. Then she remembered looking up at Vail’s kick-ass snakeskin boots. He’d found her crouched behind an SUV. Thanks to a passing train, she hadn’t heard his approach. Asshole.

She worked her jaw back and forth, wincing. When she tried to reach for the painful spot, her hands tugged against something that wouldn’t budge.

She tilted her head back. Her wrists were bound to an old iron headboard with a leather belt. She lay on the bed. Bound.

CHAPTER FIVE

“GET ME OFF HERE!”

“Now, now.” Vail’s teasing grin appeared above Lyric’s face. He must have been sitting right beside the bed the whole time. He stroked her cheek. “We’ve fun stuff to do before I release you. I’m going to make you sing the name of your fence.”

Letting out a frustrated growl, Lyric blurted, “Never happen.”

“We’ll see.”

He produced a knife from inside one of his boots and flicked out the blade. Like that was supposed to scare her? Pressing the tip to the neckline of her dress, he performed a deft move that opened the jersey to reveal her breasts.

“Pretty. And no lacy things to hide them. Bet you like to have them licked, eh?”

“If you touch me …”

“What? You’ll succumb to my command? You’ll cream in the pretty little panties I know you’re not wearing? How easily do you come, Lyric? Just a few licks?”

The arrogance of him!

He leaned down and lashed his tongue across one of her nipples. Despite her anger, Lyric gasped. His slick, wet tongue sent shivers through her breasts and arms. Mercy, that felt good.

She twisted her head away from his keen observation of her every flinch. “Don’t do this.”

“You want me to stop?” Blue eyes sought hers, his mouth but a breath from her wet nipple. “Tell me your fence’s name.”

“Never.”

His tongue lashed slowly about her nipple, taking exquisite time in circling it, and then he sucked it in.

Lyric squeezed her eyelids shut and held back another breathy gasp. Nothing felt better than this. If this was his method of torture, she could get behind it one hundred percent. But the only talking she’d be doing was a bold cry when she came.

His teeth grazed her other nipple. Her chest hummed and the tingle of want shot down to her belly and lower. She tugged against the restraints. This was not fair!

A languorous suckle drew up a moan to her tongue. She arched her back to receive further torture, but when she didn’t feel the next lash of heat, she opened her eyes to find him waiting for her.

“You want it?” he teased.

“Hell, no.” She sank into the bed. Two could play this game. But the air cooling her wet nipples only worked to tighten them more and increase her desire. “Thought you didn’t like vampires?”

“I don’t drink their blood. But I can appreciate a gorgeous woman, vampire or not. And your breasts are—stone me, they are perfection. I guess that makes me a breast man, eh?”

Hallelujah! Oh, Lyric, don’t succumb.

The next lash devastated her stalwart resistance and Lyric lifted her chest to accept his exquisite punishment. Her fingers curled about the leather strap binding her hands, but being bound no longer frightened her—it turned her on.

His tongue was hot and masterful, and he made it soft and then firm to draw it expertly across her flesh. So close to some kind of giddy release, she pressed her legs together but couldn’t quite achieve the squeeze that would make her come.

“Not a tough torturer, if you ask me,” she said on short breaths.

“Torturers, by nature, get off on their jobs. I’m no different. This is really getting you off, isn’t it?”

“Bloody Mary,” she swore.

“Uh-uh. One shouldn’t invoke the name of the dark prince’s girlfriend unless they wish Himself to pay a visit.”

“I’d prefer him over you right now.”

“Oh, I doubt it.”

True. Himself was the devil. No vampire ever invoked his name three times unless they wanted to deal with Hell.

Vail sat back and hooked a finger at the vee in her dress where the cut ended just above her belly button. With a tug, the jersey parted down to the hem. “Doesn’t take much to get you wet, eh?”

Lyric struggled against the belt. She was strong, but so was leather.

She held her thighs tightly together as his fingers trailed the crease formed between each leg and her mons. The soft tickle of his fingers felt—damn, it felt great. And the skim of his cold metal rings stirred her flesh to goose bumps.

Her hard, ruched nipples pleaded for more attention, and he noticed. Vail flicked his thumb over one of them. Much to her horror, Lyric gasped. She couldn’t stop from showing her arousal. Damn her. And damn him.

“I like the taste of your skin,” he said, and lowered his mouth to her breast again.

He suckled her as if he was enjoying a dessert, rolling her nipple between his lips and tonguing it rapidly, then more slowly, then tending her entire breast. He kissed every curve of each of her breasts until she wondered if a woman could come simply from breast stimulation alone. It was beginning to feel possible.

And she didn’t notice she’d relaxed her legs until she felt the soft trace of Vail’s finger mount the apex of her thighs. Testing, teasing, taunting her with his presence, the promise of something more.

She moved her legs together, but a slap of his palm to her thigh stopped her.

“Keep them open,” he said around her nipple. “You want this, Lyric.”

She shook her head. Oh, yes, you do.

A lift of his eyebrow provided the sexiest expression she had ever seen on a man. And the curl at the right side of his mouth was this bad boy’s signature move. Devastating. “Then stop me,” he said.

Stopping him meant giving him the information he wanted. Not as easy as he imagined it could be. Especially if no name existed. But she wasn’t about to reveal that little white one.

Because that would make him stop.

Letting out a moan, Lyric didn’t care if the ice princess mutinied. Desire undermined her resolve and weakened her concern for secrecy. Besides, without a secret name to reveal, she needn’t worry about shouting it out at the brink of climax.

And, oh … there. She sucked in her lower lip as Vail’s finger slowly entered her wet depths, and then moved back out to slick across her clitoris. Softly exploring. A rub back and forth, and a slow but firm slide in the other direction. All sensation hummed at her core, bringing her closer …

He needed to press deeper, to focus on her ultrasensitive apex, yet he merely teased. Around in circles, and along her folds, and returning to her swollen clit to demonstrate what she could have if only …

If only.

“You like this, Lyric?”

“Yes,” she gasped, then closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn’t want to talk. Satisfaction. That’s what she needed. Why wouldn’t he give it to her? “You do, too, Vail.”

“Of course I do. Your body is amazing, your breasts so full.” He kissed each one, following with a lick. “Your nipples are so hard I could suck them for hours, devour them like the cherries of which you smell.”

Please do, she thought. Don’t ever stop. She was still so hungry, having forgone the mortal’s blood. Climax would be a fine replacement for what she craved.

“And you’re so wet. You like it when I put my finger inside you?”

She nodded, breaths coming as rapid whimpers.

“Right here,” he whispered, his lips against her neck now, right over the vein. Still his finger merely circled the spot she wanted him to master. “A little harder?”

“Please,” she chirped.

“Pretty please?”

“Mmm,” she managed. “Vail, please.”

And then his finger was gone. The tingle at her nipple ceased. The heat of his mouth left her skin.

Lyric breathed, waiting. Her body hummed, wanting, desiring, needing.

“Name,” he said sternly.

Fuck. No. She couldn’t. She didn’t have—

She wanted. She needed to get off. Squirming on the bed, she couldn’t manage to bring her hips up to meet his hovering hand. The bastard wouldn’t bring her to the brink like this and then walk away, would he?

So the torturer did know his craft.

If her hands were free, she’d finish herself off and not be the least ashamed. Pressing her thighs together, she mined the sweet hum of orgasm. It remained elusive, demanding Vail’s direct and firm touch.

“Uh-uh.” He nudged her thighs apart. “Not that way, sweetie. You want to come? Name.”

“Vincent Lambert,” she blurted out. Hell, she’d seen the last name on a movie poster recently, and the first name was common enough.

The mattress jiggled as Vail stood and strode to the counter. Grabbing the cell phone, he punched in some numbers.

Lyric crashed, heaving and gasping as if tears would spill free. The high of arousal withered away and her flesh prickled again, not from desire, but from the lack of touch, of expected satisfaction. Her wet nipples cooled and the aching loss of heat softened them. She pressed her legs together.

No. Not worth it now without him directing the fireworks. And she wouldn’t let him witness her weakness. God, how had she managed to get herself into a situation like this? So vulnerable!

She twisted her wrists within the leather strap, to no avail.

Vail asked the operator to give him the address of Vincent Lambert.

Good luck with that.

“Thanks,” he said, and hung up. “You’re in luck. There’s a Vincent Lambert in the fourteenth quarter. Got the address.”

Seriously? Whew.

Vail walked to the bed and loomed over her, hands propped at his hips. “Now, what to do with you?”

SHE’D GIVEN HIM what he’d requested. He should head out for the fourteenth and nab the gown from the fence. Return the damned thing to Hawkes, hand over the girl to Mommy, and then he could finally get the information he wanted from his uncle. One problem.

The naked woman lying on the bed before him writhed and gasped with the need to get off. And he wanted to help her with that. Because those soft, round breasts surely required more licking. And her molten hot body demanded he fill her with the hard-on he’d suffered for the past twenty minutes.

What had become of his hatred for vampires?

You don’t have to bite her.

And there was nothing wrong with a vampire in general, just their nasty blood. Right? He’d never slept with a vampire. Had avoided them since arriving in the mortal realm.

But he didn’t have to bite when he had sex. It was a great accompaniment to the whole shebang, but unnecessary. And besides, who would know if he screwed a vampire this one time?

Vail unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside.

She squirmed and tugged against the leather belt strapping her to the headboard. “Too late, you junkie asshole. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Yeah?” He flicked open the button on his pants and tugged down the fly. His heavy erection sprang out. Her eyes widened—and not in anger. “We’ll see about that.”

Retrieving the knife from his back pocket, he sat on the edge of the bed. Knife in his fist, he skimmed his knuckles over her taut stomach, toying with her fear and desire at the same time. He let the hard ivory handle of the knife rub her nipple as he moved higher.

She reacted with vicious struggles. He’d lost her when making the phone call—a necessary delay from the torture—but he could get her back.

“Settle, Lyric, you don’t want me to cut you.”

“You wouldn’t,” she retorted. “Wouldn’t want to get any of my nasty blood on you.”

She was smart. But he could be smarter.

He pressed his other hand over her mons, fingertips lightly brushing the soft wet folds she kept shaved bare, and her body reacted by arching her back. Much as she thought she didn’t want this, her body did. She straddled a tightrope, and one wrong step would send her reeling into the stratosphere or crashing to earth.

He preferred the reel, because that would make it good for him, too.

He slid the blade under the leather belt securing her wrists. This particular blade had been forged in Faery and was sharper than any mortal metal could be honed. Her wrists, unbound, fell to the bed and she grasped for one to ease her fingers about it.

“Sorry, if you lost the feeling in them,” he muttered.

Vail dropped the knife on the floor and placed his fingers between her thighs. He pushed them deep into her while, with his thumb, he found the soft swollen heat he knew controlled her entire body. It was command central, so to speak, and he knew how to operate the controls.

Before she could struggle away, he flicked out a finger and rubbed it over her slick clitoris, sweeping the sensitive bud until he heard a gasp, followed quickly by a surrendering sigh. Her fingers clutched at the tattered old mattress. Her legs opened wider.

“Good girl. Now let me taste how sweet you are.”

Ignoring the aching pulse in his erection, he told himself patience would win him the reward as he slid down to kiss her cherry jasmine skin.

The first lick started a shudder in her thighs. He dipped his tongue around her clitoris and played with the hard bud of it, making his tongue pointed to trace it firmly.

It was the right move because her fingers released hold on the mattress and clutched at air. She moaned, “Yes,” and her fingers found his hair and gripped hanks of it tightly. “Right there.”

Steadily, he played her, stroking and dashing his tongue against softness, then hard, to follow with a firm lick. She smelled like a jasmine garden here, and he was reminded of the faery ritual before the bride walked down the aisle. The bride-to-be would spend the day being pampered and perfumed, at one point squatting over an incense burner to infuse all parts of her skin with heady scent.

Don’t think about that stolen moment. Concentrate. Or you’ll begin to regret.

Kicking the door shut on memory, Vail soared back to the present and into his captive’s lushness. Lyric’s scent dizzied him. It was almost better than a dust high.

The vampiress cried out boldly. Her hips bucked and the fingers in his hair tugged painfully before releasing him.

He had pleased her. The hot spill of her over his fingers thrilled him. He sucked each digit clean, but was jumbled upon the mattress as she sat and reached for him.

She pushed down his pants and gripped his erection. “Now. Inside me. You know you want it, vampire.”

He sucked one last finger clean. “Just waiting for the invitation to cross your threshold.”

“If that’s the way you ask for an invite, you’ll never be turned down.”

Kicking off his boots and slipping down his leather pants, Vail then plunged into her depths and the dull mortal world changed colors. The faery dust highs he was accustomed to grew shallow and insignificant when immersed within Lyric. So tight, she hugged him as he moved in and out of her. Grasping him. Claiming him. It wasn’t going to take long for him to come, but he wanted to prolong the exquisite torture.

She’d turned the tables on him. Apparently, this seductive brand of torture could be sallied back and forth. He didn’t mind. This was all about finding the sweet spot. Mastering the moment.

Winning her trust.

Vail’s muscles clenched and his body trembled above Lyric’s gorgeous limbs. Her skin glowed pale under the moonlight. Her lips, so red from kissing, parted. She was his. He’d challenge any man who claimed differently.

Tensing his jaw, he waited as the orgasm focused in his muscles and segued at his core. He released, ramming himself deep within her to ride the wave.

SUNLIGHT TEASED Lyric awake. She hated the sun. It would burn her if she stood beneath direct rays. Prolonged UV exposure could drive a vampire mad. Even this pale stuff beaming through the dirty window could prove deadly with longer exposure.

She rolled away from the obnoxious light and her body hugged against Vail’s naked form. He lay on his side, facing her, his eyes open. He touched her mouth. A lash of her tongue in the wake of his touch tasted sex and salt and something sweet that she thought might be faery dust.

“You going to track down the fence today?” she asked.

“No reason to bother. It’s a ruse. You made up the name. I knew it before I even made the call.”

“Then why—why can’t you let me go?”

“Told you.” He gripped her around the nape of her neck, but not threateningly. His finger touched her behind the ear, and she cautioned herself against making a fast move. Some secrets were best kept. “I need the gown, Lyric.”

This guy had a one-track mind, and the replay was growing old fast. “If you had the gown would you let me go?”

“Do you have a gown to give me?”

She rolled to her back, wincing at the sunlight. He thumbed her nipple, but she batted his hand away.

“That was the best sex I’ve had. Ever,” he said, sitting and reaching for his pants. “Thanks.”

She closed her eyes. Men were not supposed to thank a woman for having sex. That was wrong on every imaginable level. So much for bad-boy fantasies. He’d used her.

But she had used him, too.

The best ever? Poor guy, didn’t get around much, did he? On the other hand, it had been so freakin’ good. Her best ever? She wouldn’t admit it to herself.

“I suppose if I take a shower, you’ll dodge out the window.”

“You know it,” she answered.

“I need to go home, shower, and change my clothes. After lying on this bed, I feel … crusty. Which means you’ll be coming with me, sweetie.”

“I’m not your sweetie.”

“No, you’re not.” He exhaled and stood.

Lyric gazed at his bare back and ass. The hard muscles that flexed with his movement defined the dimples at the top of his buttocks. Nice. Without warrant, she imagined him inside her again, pumping hard, filling her, his jaw clenched, and bringing her to climax. A shiver traced through her system.

“Yeah, it was as good as you remember,” he commented over his shoulder.

Lyric leaned up on an elbow. “You know you just had sex with a vampire.”

“I know.”

“You ever do that before?”

“Nope.”

Wow. Most vamps socialized with one another, and a lot dated vampires exclusively and used mortals for sex only when biting them.

“Any regrets?” she asked.

Shimmying up his pants and carefully tucking away his semihard penis as he zipped, Vail shrugged. “Actually, no, no regrets.”

“You seem surprised.”

He picked up her dress and tossed it over her breasts, then leaned in and kissed her on the mouth, slow, delving, most definitely not a regretful kiss.