Final Cut Miami Voodoo You Love? (7 page)

Chloe grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body, and then used a hand towel to blot the water from her dreadlocks. She stood in front of the foggy mirror for a moment, grimacing at the mess of her hair. Even if they were proper dreads, they still just weren’t right. She tugged at one long mat and glanced around, hoping for a pair of scissors. But then, if this had something to do with magic, cutting them wouldn’t really solve the problem. At the best, she’d end up a skinhead.

She sighed noisily and stepped out of the bathroom, tripping over the low threshold. Damn! Being in the shower had helped a little, but just moments dry and she was falling all to pieces again. How could a magnificent creature like Antonio Silva tolerate a crazy, crippled shifter like her? What if it wasn’t a curse or a spell, but her own defective psyche? Panic ripped through her like a wave, and she started for the door, jerking it open just a few inches before the security lock caught with a jolt. She scrambled, and then screamed in frustration as a huge black body pushed between her and the door, halting her escape. He butted his head into her belly, pushing her backwards into the bedroom. She took a step, stumbled and went down on her bottom.

In frustration, Coco leaned forward, her arms on her knees, sobs wracking her body. She clutched her head, tugging at her matted hair. A rough tongue swiped her bare arm; a rough growl sounded soft as a lullaby. Antonio nudged her with his massive head, knocking her backwards to the plush carpet on the floor. For one breathless moment, she lay looking up at him; the erotic suggestion of their position took her breath away. The spell was broken as the tiger shimmered and vanished, to be replaced by Antonio. Apparently pushing her around in his tiger form wasn’t enough.

“Chloe --”

“Coco.” She blinked, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. Words were becoming difficult to summon.

“You don’t have two personalities, baby. Your name is Chloe.” Frustration showed in his eyes. “You were doing so good, kitten. What scared you?”

She pushed herself upright, the towel stayed behind on the floor. His gaze shifted to her breasts and hunger flared in their golden depths.

“Coco… nickname.”

“So the name isn’t new?” She shook her head, glad he’d gotten the gist of her cryptic attempts to speak. “OK, if you prefer, I’ll call you Coco. Now that we’ve settled your name, what scared you? I scented a spike of fear.” He settled next to her on the floor, just as naked as she. His golden body was perfect and flawless. Not a scar, nor a blemish. He wasn’t tattooed or pierced or marked in anyway. Just sculpted cheekbones, a cleft chin and the most perfect nose she’d ever seen on a man, elegant and slightly arched. His mouth was made for sin and his accent was heaven. God, she loved him.

“Modeling. Why’d you stop?”

“Nice way to change the subject.” He smiled briefly. “But that’s fair. I started because the money was good. It made me the center of attention. I was kind of famous there for a while.” She tilted her head, urging him on. “I partied. I was everyone’s darling. I had my choice of lovers. Then one day I woke up naked on a beach and didn’t know where the hell I was. I didn’t even know what country I was in. I looked around, saw paw prints in the sand near me. I’d become so… human that my cat finally rebelled. So I figured out where the hell I was -- it was Mexico, by the way -- finished out my contracts and quit. Went to school and took enough law enforcement classes to work as a PI. I do run of the mill investigations out of my office in Seattle and paranormal cases for Worth.”

She focused on the words she wanted to say. “Better now?”

“Much. The tiger’s happy. I’m happy too.” He looked at her as he said those words. “Now your turn. What scared you?”

She felt tears start in her eyes. Coco slapped her forehead. “Stupid.” She tugged her ratted hair. “Ugly.”

Antonio grabbed her hands, holding her wrists. “No, Coco. You’re beautiful and smart. We’ll get this figured out and fixed.”

“If not?” she asked.

He sighed. “Then we live with it. We build on the beach, and you can work from home. You know, like they show in the beer commercial.” She smiled through tears. “
We
, Coco. You aren’t alone anymore, so no more running away. All right?”

She nodded.

“Now up. Get dressed. We’ve got to head down to Final Cut.” He stood and hauled her to her feet. He then turned away, opening the large closet. Coco sat on the edge of the bed and craned her neck, trying to watch his tight butt as he shifted clothing around, bending down to retrieve shoes. She moved, twisted, and finally ended up on her back, her head hanging down from the edge of the bed.

“Ya know I can see you in the mirror.”

He paused in mid-motion, one foot down in a pair of light tan trousers. He twisted and looked back at her.

“What on Earth are you doing?” He looked adorable like that, upside down and confused.

“See, I’m looking up into the mirror… and it’s… catching the dressing door mirror… Good view.” She grinned at the perplexed expression on his face. “No… don’t move… ahhh…” she trailed off in disappointment. But in just a second, she was looking up at the man himself, who was looking down at her as she dangled off the bed.

And his groin was just inches from her face. She smiled, reached over her head and tugged open his unbelted trousers. He was hard and erect, and she literally felt the heat of his cock as it hovered just inches from her mouth. She opened her mouth and licked, missing him by just a fraction of an inch. “Closer.”

“You think you can give me a blow job while you’re hanging upside down off the bed?” He was stifling a smile, but lust was rising in his expression. She waggled a brow and stuck out her tongue.

“…you cooperate… bet I can…” She gave another swipe at his cock, this time catching the very tip with her tongue. She caught the faint essence of pre-come on him. She looked up at him, licking her lips.

He growled, clasped her head and guided his cock to her lips. She didn’t open, so he rubbed his cockhead over her mouth, painting her with clear, salty juice. Unable to resist, Coco licked her lips and choked back a laugh when he thrust in.

“Cock tease!”

She laughed around his penis, drawing a gasp from him. Unable to move much, she reached up, searching out his balls, stroking them as he began to pump gently into her mouth. She was in a completely submissive position to Antonio, and could only take what he chose to give. Coco loved the way he stifled his excitement, keeping a firm grip on himself. She tilted just a bit, and though she couldn’t see his face, heard him groan as his cock slid even further in, aided by her position on the bed. Thankfully, she didn’t have much of a gag reflex, or things could get ugly fast.

It was the sort of thing she wouldn’t do for just anyone.

He moved slowly, carefully, so she focused on the bits of him she could reach, stroking the velvet of his testicles, lightly massaging the soft space behind. She pressed his ass with one finger, careful not to irritate the tender skin there. If she’d had some lube, or even saliva… She reached up, offering him her hand and he obligingly licked her fingers. The man clearly wasn’t afraid of a little ass play. She slipped a finger in, stroking the smooth, powerful muscle there, letting him control her penetration as he thrust. When she found his prostate and pressed lightly, he groaned deeply and dropped forward over her body.

The movement changed the angle of his cock, so she clasped it at the base, guiding him back into her mouth. When his head settled between her thighs, she jumped in surprise, eagerly opening her legs. Oral rarely brought her to climax, but it sure got her primed for other things! As he licked and sucked, nibbling gently at the petals of her labia, she got busy again, running her tongue up and down the smooth column of his shaft. She couldn’t play with him much, but the angle allowed her to take him deep, so she lay, fucking his ass with her finger as he fucked her pussy with his tongue, her mouth with his dick. She moaned. He groaned. And their breathing sped up.

Coco felt the fur of his pubic hair tickling her nose, caught the musky perfume of him, and tasted the spice of his coming ejaculation. It made her buck up into his mouth, her back taut with sudden need. He reached around her thighs, pressing his wet finger into her ass, the finger of his other hand into her pussy. He began to flick her clit rapidly with the tip of his tongue, bringing her up to a wild rush of orgasm.

She shrieked around his flesh, spreading her legs wide, and then clamping her powerful thighs around his head. She bore down on his fingers, pumping hard, and finally… Finally all the pieces fell into place. Her climax was a thing of beauty, drawing groan after groan from her, and in the rush of the moment, she felt him contract around her finger. He seed rushed into her mouth and he pumped hard, spilling over her lips, into her throat and over her cheeks. He roared his pleasure against her flesh, the sensation almost too much, but far from enough. Together, they strained and thrust, moaned and finally found themselves drained and empty, mindless and numb from the pleasure.

Antonio fell sideways on the bed, his flesh sliding from her slack mouth. He lay just inches from her, and she gazed at the smooth skin of his hip. Up at the other end, he lightly ran his fingers over her pubic hair, making her shiver from the sensation.

“Dear God, you are just the kinkiest little thing.” He still sounded breathless.

“You wouldn’t have liked me doing it if you weren’t just as kinked.” With a good bit of effort, she managed to lift her head and work her way back onto the bed. Once she was in place next to Antonio, she flopped onto her side. He reached up, wiping a bit of spunk from her face. They gazed at one another and broke out into laughter. After a few giddy moments, the hilarity tapered down to the occasional chuckle.

Finally they wound down, not moving when the room went dim as the day passed. Antonio sighed, draping his arm up over the top of her head.

“Coco, I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun with sex before.”

“Beats whips and chains,” she muttered.

“How do you…” He glared at her and she laughed.

“You’re into
that
sort of kink? Boy, can I pick ‘em.” He frowned and rolled to his side, and Coco suddenly stopped laughing. “Seriously, you’re into the scene? My brother was a pro for a while. I used to tease him all the time: the black leather and chaps and stuff. But I don’t think he was all that committed.” She paused. “But you are.”

He gave a heavy sigh and rolled over to look at her. “To be honest, the urges don’t seem to surface too much around you. I seem to spend all my time taking care of you…”

“Damage control.” She sat up, leaning back on her arms.

He sat up as well, hitching the pants up over his lean hips. He lay back and she trailed her fingers over the muscles of his abs. “No, I’m taking care of you, keeping you safe and happy. That seems to…” He looked at her oddly. “My need to dominate has become a need to nurture you.”

“Oh, wow.” Coco wasn’t sure what to think about that. Did she really need a keeper? Well, strike that, she obviously did. But when… If she got better, would he always try to be steering her away from trouble? She crossed her legs and propped her chin on her fist, thinker style.

“Coco?”

“Mmmm?” She looked over at Antonio. Yum. She sighed, letting the gooey, happy sense of infatuation run over her.

“You’re making sense.” She sat upright and frowned at him. “After sex, you have a period of lucidity. I noticed it earlier but figured it was the water. Not counting the shower, we’re nowhere near the ocean.”

He was right! Coco crawled off the bed and returned to the window. Though this was a beachfront hotel, the water was too far to reach quickly, especially from the seventh floor. She looked over her shoulder at Antonio, who looked as smug as only a cat can look.

“It means that whenever there’s a need, I can just fuck the sense right back into you!”

She tossed a pillow, laughing as it nailed him right on the forehead. He hit the floor with a crash and lay there laughing.

“Hey, that’s no way to treat your Dom!”

Chapter Nine

Even with multiple televisions on different sports stations, Final Cut seemed a bit on the eerie side. It might be the storm clouds gathering over the horizon, or the fact that in the farthest corner, the lights were dim and the screens flickered with nothing but static and snow. As they entered, Sam grinned and Coco made a beeline for the bar, draping over one of the spinning stools.

“Babe, be careful. Your dress is long…” Antonio helped her tuck up the skirts of the maxi dress she wore and bent over to drop a kiss on her forehead. Sam lifted a brow and the grizzly shifter guarding the door let out on ominous growl. He gave the shifter a disdainful look and nodded to the owner of the bar. Standing for a moment, he let his eyes adapt to the dim light and spotted his quarry.

In the back was the same woman he’d spotted the first time he came into the bar. She wore a white tunic over a long skirt and her hair was held back in complex braids. Not far from her, a young man was seated, sitting stiffly upright, hands folded in front of a glass of beer. He was darker skinned than she, and he wore a white suit. A cream colored fedora shaded a sharp-featured face. Antonio wove through the tables, ignoring shifters and Fae and whatever other paranormals occupied the space. He came to a stop in front of her table and glanced down at the cards arrayed in front of her. It appeared to be a simple game of solitaire, but nothing was ever simple when it came to witches.

She looked up at him, showing him that a pretty woman had evolved into beauty over the years. Her eyes were sharp, her cheekbones sculpted. Her lips might have thinned a bit with age, but were still beautifully shaped.

“Ola, Antonio Silva.” She glanced up at him briefly.

“Boa noite, Tia Nicola.” He stared down at her, ignoring her son. They’d once played together in the streets, kicking soccer balls and whistling at pretty girls. But in time, Ramon had turned to darker pleasures and Antonio had fled their little neighborhood. “Posso?” He gestured to the chair across from her. She nodded graciously and he pulled out the chair, sitting and waiting.