Final Cut Miami Voodoo You Love? (3 page)

Again, grief streaked through her. So many problems and all she could do was tread water, praying for help. If she could at least regain her animal half, she might be able to use it to help herself. He was the first Siberian she’d seen since… since she could remember, and maybe he’d bring her animal to the surface. It was worth a try. If nothing else, he’d be fun to play with.

Within seconds, she was at the dock, looking up at Antonio Silva. Big and Brazilian. Sexy as hell. She just might enjoy the next few minutes. Her gaze was level with his groin, and to her appreciation, something was pressing against his fly. His hand came into view and she looked up, noting his smile was gone. All that was left was intent. She took his hand, letting him lift her up onto the dock. In one smooth move, he propelled her to the wall of the building that backed up to the canal. She hit hard, her head snapping back, but he controlled the impact. She was breathless and startled, but uninjured.

With her back to the wall and the wall of his body to her front, Coco smiled giddily, aware that she was right on the edge of losing it. Thankfully, he kept her pinned in place; there was no chance of her falling now.

“Damn, but aren’t you sweet?” she murmured as he bent to her, running his lips along the side of her throat. Like magic, her body responded, tightening and heating up. She fought the urge to hump his leg. Instead, she looped one arm around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. He leaned in closer and she slid her other arm into his jacket, running her palm up his chest. The rumble in his chest told her he liked that… a lot. She tugged his shirt loose, finding hot, bare skin. She also found the file.

She gasped as Antonio lifted her off her feet, pinning her high against the wall. Automatically, she wrapped her legs around his hips, going straight for the gold.

His lips were warm on hers, as though his entire body generated heat and fire. He licked at her lips, not trying to get in, but enjoying the contact, the taste and texture. Finally she opened, urging his tongue into her mouth. Their first kiss was deep and carnal and so very, very sweet. When he broke away for a breath, she looked steadily into his eyes. Even through the tinted lenses of her glasses, she could see the golden gleam of an aroused shifter. Did her eyes look the same, or were they plain, ordinary human eyes?

Impulsively, she snuggled close, letting this temporary intimacy wash over her, taking a little comfort in the fact that, for now, she wasn’t alone. As though sensing the change in her mood, Antonio hugged her, rubbing the skin of her back, nuzzling her cheeks with his.

“Hey,” he said, pulling back slightly. “Let’s get rid of these.” He pushed her sunglasses up where they lodged in that damn pile of hair. Another side effect of her downfall. She let her eyes fall closed, not quite ready to show him herself, for the eyes are the window of the soul, yes? He’d look into her eyes and see just what she’d once been. Taking a breath, she steeled her resolve and opened her eyes, letting him see.

He stared for a moment, looking from one eye to the other. It was always that way; people never knew whether to look at the blue eye or the green eye. The difference wasn’t too obvious at a distance, but this close, it had to take him by surprise.

“Well, isn’t that pretty? Sort of like David Bowie.”

She blinked. That wasn’t what she was expecting. A Siberian should recognize this trait in another. He still thought she was human. Had her animal fled so completely it was unrecognizable?

Confidence began to creep back. She’d spent so much time stumbling along, looking over her shoulder in fear. Maybe he was just what he seemed, a too handsome private investigator. Still, she had to be sure. She smiled saucily, not willing to open her mouth and tempt the gibberish to come forth. Instead, she nipped his chin, listening to his pleasured growls as his attention was diverted right back to his other brain.

“You have a condom, baby?”

Condom? Hell no. She thought fast. She hadn’t really intended things to go this far, just a bit of canoodling until she satisfied her curiosity. But she was so tempted. Sooo… tempted…

She rocked her hips into his, feeling his erection between the layers of their clothing. She let her legs loosen and went limp, slithering down to her feet. “No condom. Sorry.” She took the sting out of the rejection by sliding her fingers along his bared skin, trailing down till she felt the hard outline of his shaft. He hissed in startled arousal.

“Unbuckle my belt.” His voice took on a dark tone, commanding. Curiously, she glanced up. He looked as though he expected her to obey, so instead, she played a bit more, reaching back to his balls, pressing and fondling. His hips jerked.

“I told you…”

“You sound like my brother when he’s pissed at me.” She smiled and winked at him, laughing at his loss of composure. “But I’d never do this to my brother.” Coco pulled up his silk shirt, licking a wide swath across his taut belly. He was just as nice bare as clothed. She stood and gently maneuvered him so his back was to the plaster wall of the building. They were out here in front of anyone who cared to peek and Coco could care less. What would they see, after all? No one was getting naked. Not now, anyway.

She unbuttoned his shirt and played peek-a-boo with small brown nipples, hand flat over one, worrying the other gently between her teeth. She glanced up and saw he was still caught between intrigue, arousal and masculine frustration at her disobedience. She dropped a hand to his groin again, stroking his cock. Hell, she might as well…

The belt buckle was simple to unfasten one-handed, and in a second she had his pants open and the elastic of his briefs hooked down behind his balls. His cock was uncut, long and dark, with the head peeking out from the foreskin. She slid the skin back and found distended veins. He rocked into her hand, his skin growing warmer, a bright tear leaking from the eye of his cock head.

“Suck it.”

She looked up with a smile. His face was flushed; his smooth hair tumbled over his forehead. He was breathing fast.

“I don’t give oral on the first date, tiger.”

His eyes went wide and then narrow again. “Tiger, eh?”

She waggled a brow at him, and then winked. “But what the hell…” She dropped slowly to her knees, inwardly laughing at his frustrated dominant tendencies. Every shifter she’d ever known had the need to engage in the battle of who was in charge. She looked up at the gleaming phallus just inches from her lips and deliberately reached out, touching the very edge of his cockhead with her fingertip. As she expected, he shivered. She swiped her tongue out, dragging along the silky skin till she reached his trapped testicles. Slipping one hand under those lovely orbs, she placed a gentle kiss on each one.

Coco wrapped her hand around his shaft, pumping gently at first, and then more firmly, all the while increasing her attention to his balls. She knew she’d hit his rhythm when his hips began to flex gently. His hand lowered to her hair, caressing gently. Surprised, she glanced up. Antonio was in his happy blow job zone, somewhere in a state between tension and blissed-out relaxation. His breathing was deep and just slightly unsteady. He opened his eyes, his gaze slowly focusing until they stared at one another, shock, pleasure and surprise running over his face. A chill ran through her body and for the first time in months, Coco’s Siberian stirred, recognizing something just out of reach.

Chapter Four

She was good. So good Antonio simply leaned back and took it; the desire to dominate and control slipped away, leaving him limp and floating on a cloud of well-being. It all converged in his belly. Every cell in his body was aware of her mouth on his balls, her fist on his cock. His hand dropped to her head… not to direct, but to caress.

He fingered thick strands of matted hair, exploring the soft ropes and wishing he could run his hands freely through her long mane. Unfortunately, if -- and when -- she ever did away with the dreadlocks, it would take scissors, not a comb. Or maybe a bit of magic.

He stood there with his head resting against the wall, fingers exploring, simply soaking in the pleasure of her ministrations. One hand slipped around behind him, fingers sinking into the muscle of his ass. The other cupped and kneaded. He wished fiercely that she’d just yank down his trousers so he could feel her all over his body.

Tension built, his thighs flexed, his back went taut. Not wanting it to end so soon, Antonio breathed deeply, forcing his muscles to relax. He opened his eyes and met her unusual gaze. The blue eye was crystalline, like Caribbean waters over white sand. The green eye was the pale green of leaves in the spring. In dim light, the difference wouldn’t be so great, but out here in Miami’s late afternoon, they were another odd element to a very unusual woman.

When she was out floating on the paddle board in the canal, her balance was perfect, she spoke in even, modulated tones. It was like…

…her tooth ran over the edge of his cockhead, pulling him back into the moment.

God, he wanted to fuck her. Hand and mouth… no matter what the level of expertise… just wasn’t enough. He wanted her on her hands and knees. He wanted her straddling him, riding him till their scents blended and their breathing and heartbeats combined in the same wild tempo. He wanted her taste in his mouth; he wanted her belly full…

Oh shit. His animal purred and stretched, rumbling at his inattention. Her eyes went wide as she paused, and then she focused on him again. She laved his shaft with her tongue, gripping him at the base, guiding him fully into the warmth of her mouth. As he’d ordered earlier, she sucked. Hard. A cry tore from his throat and damn! He wouldn’t last another minute. She’d yanked every bit of self-control from him, and he hadn’t seen her skin or touched her body.

His fingers curled into her hair, pulling her away, up to her feet. Her hand replaced her mouth, fingers sliding over his skin. Antonio slipped his fingers over the bare curve of her waist, fumbling for the catch to her shorts. Sliding his hand down, he groaned at the silky strength of her buttocks. Reaching farther, he slid his fingers through her crevice, meeting the wet silk of her arousal. She jerked in response and he pulled her forward till she straddled his knee; within seconds, she was grinding against his thigh. Once he was satisfied she was pleasuring herself as equally as she was pleasuring him, he ran a hand up her belly, finding the soft globes of her breasts.

He had no finesse to call upon, no reserves of control. They were straining against one another, growling gently, moaning softly. Her hand pumped his shaft even as she thrust against him, and Antonio knew they teetered on the edge of something. Something shining and wonderful and exquisitely dangerous.

She let out a cry of frustration and the shorts were gone, her bikini bottoms were off, dangling around one ankle. She climbed his body as though he was a tree. Her hands tugged at his jacket, his shaft firmly clasped first by her hand, and then by the wet heat of her body. He gasped as she rode him, working herself until he was buried and snug and it was all he could do to hold himself upright. Bodies labored together, hips churned and their mouths met, lips clashing, tongues dueling for dominance.

Helplessly, Antonio slid down the wall, not caring that the rough plaster tore at the fine linen of his jacket or that she was next to naked, sharing it all with the world. He landed on the wooden dock, Coco still astride and fucking him hard. Their kiss broke and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her breath hot against his skin. The tension in her body warned him she was close. He wanted to breach her ass with his fingers; he wanted to lick and kiss and bite her nipples, but all he could do was let his animal free to taste and bask in the sensation of the most riveting sex he’d ever had.

Short nails scored the skin of his chest and belly and fine hairs stood up all over his body. The pressure of the climax grew until he felt it from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes. He fought and battled himself, holding it back, arching up into her as deeply as he could reach. When the first warning spasms began in her channel, his body responded. Their harsh cries mingled together and he was helpless against the wave of sensation crashing through him.

On top of him, Coco gripped him with hands and knees, freezing like a statue in the last, gripping moments of her orgasm. Even as her muscles went loose and she collapsed atop him, Antonio felt the last of the seed burst from his cock. And he felt something else… something unexpected. Something that should never happen during a casual fuck. He groaned and fell back against the wall, his arms wrapped around Coco’s slender body. When she tried to draw away, he tightened his arm around her. He panted, shivering as small spasms continued to shatter his senses.

“Give it a few.” He wasn’t certain if what he felt was real, but decided not to risk it just in case.

“You aren’t knotted. I’d know it. Besides, that usually happens during breeding.” Still, she didn’t try to move and Antonio breathed a sigh of relief.

Why the fuck had that happened? His animal had nearly rolled over for her. Even now, under her touch, it was more relaxed and content then he’d ever remembered. He looped an arm around her, doing his best to shield her from anyone who might see. Thankfully, it was now dusk and visibility wasn’t good.

Coco groaned and sat up, looking down at him slightly drunkenly. “You’re still hard.”

“Like I said, give me a few minutes.”

She frowned and then lifted her body, gasping as they came apart. “Ow! What the… what was that?” She scooted back, looking at his semi erect cock. Without a microscope, there’d be nothing there to see. Not now, anyway. She reached down, giving him a stroke.

“We had sex without a condom.” She looked at him and blinked. “I imagine you don’t carry any disease.”

“I don’t. And you aren’t fertile.” Yet. That little anatomical anomaly of his would coax her along. If they had sex again, and Antonio prayed they would, he’d be more careful.

Shakily, she found her bottoms and stepped into them. She didn’t bother with the shorts, letting them hang over her arm. “What the hell happened? I know
that
wasn’t a knot. It didn’t hurt, but it could have, if I’d moved too soon.” She was rising to her feet and Antonio began to put himself back in order. He rose to his feet, tucking his shirt back into his pants.