Hot Licks (20 page)

“Then you won’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

The hand he’d moved to unwind her braid froze. Even his lips froze, though she’d lain her own against them for another drugging kiss.

Sleep on the couch? She couldn’t be serious.

“Right?” Now she was pressing open-mouthed kisses along his throat, her fingers tangled in his hair.

He might have whimpered. Trying to be a gentleman instead of the slobbering beast he feared he was being at the moment was the definition of hell. Her arousal was a thick perfume in the air and he knew he could easily seduce her. He could have her naked, in bed and himself buried to the hilt in less than five minutes. Unfortunately, after opening his stupid mouth to say their relationship was more than physical, he really had no choice but to back that assertion up with action.

Or non-action in this particular case.

When he continued to remain a statue, too close to losing control to move so much as a muscle, she pulled back to look up at him. “Rome?”

It might kill him, but he’d do it. For her. “If that’s what you want.”

She searched his face for several moments before saying, “No.”

He blinked, confused. “No?”

Then she had the audacity to grin. Actually grin from ear to ear while he suffocated under the heavy blanket of his hunger. “I wanted to see if you’d really heed me.”

His jaw dropped. “You were testing me?”

Unrepeated, she shrugged. “Yes.”

His temper flared to mix with blinding need. And while he might not ever understand this woman, enough was enough. “No more mister nice guy,” he said, bending down to toss her over his shoulder and stomp into her bedroom.

“Oh, so you’ve been ‘nice’ all along?” Her words ended on a breathless gasp when he dropped her sideways on the bed and came down over her.

“You have no idea.” His growl was lost in her mouth as he took her lips in a hard, possessive kiss, his tongue delving deep as he thrust his hips between her thighs. One hand was on her hair, freeing that glorious mass from its confinement while the other was busy unsnapping her bra and shoving her shirt up. Unerringly he wrapped his lips around one bared breast, suckling the creamy mound with little finesse, only knowing that he might expire if he didn’t get in her soon.

He pulled back enough to rip her shirt and bra off and then stood to rid her of the rest of her clothes, but the sight of her glistening nipple, wet from his mouth, held his gaze.

He reached up, palming her breasts with both hands, rubbing his thumbs over the tight buds. Gwen let out a soft moan and arched into his touch, her hands clamped around his wrists as he toyed and teased her. Legs still between her splayed thighs, he rocked against her core, garnering another satisfying gasp from the woman who was driving him mad with need and confusion.

“Rome.” her hands tightened on his wrists.

“Yeah?” he continued to play with her silken flesh, rub his aching cock along her jeans covered core.

She licked her lips, eyes hot on his. “Don’t you want to be inside me?”

More than his next breath. “Oh, yeah.” And with that invitation, he stripped her of her shoes, socks, shorts and panties. Then he made short work of his own and quickly put on a condom. He climbed back on the bed, knees between her open thighs, and just looked at her, with his dick sticking straight out, hard and eager.

Wrapping one hand around the base of his shaft to keep from ending this moment before he was ready, he stroked a thumb through her wet slit, up and down, from the tight band of muscles at her entrance to her swollen clit, spreading her juices.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” His eyes were glued on the sight of her, so pink and wet. He brought his thumb to his mouth and licked the delicate ambrosia with a groan.

“Rome.” It was a plea and a demand.

Wanting to tease just a little more, he slipped his thumb back through her folds, sliding easily inside her, only to pop back out and glide up in a sure stroke to her clit. Her hips undulated beneath his touch and he repeated the motion several more times, watching with slitted eyes as she fucked herself on his thumb.

“I love how wet you are. How ready you are for me.”

Her hands clenched the sheets, her breath ragged.

“Yeah? Then what are you waiting for?”

Through the thundering of his heart and the fire scorching through his veins, he said with only a hint of teasing, “For you to beg.”

Gwen stilled, then quick as a snap, rose up and grabbed his ears. “Not yet.” And with an agile move of her lower body, impaled herself on the tip of his cock.

All intentions of teasing and drawing out the sensual pleasure evaporated as he watched his cock begin to fill the velvet heat of her body. His teeth clenched as he eased into her, instinctively thrusting forward, penetrating deeper through the tender flesh surrounding him, clamping him like a vise.

She fell back on the bed with a soft moan, raising her hips up to take more, her earthy response spurring him on.

With another hard stroke he lodged his heavy erection to the hilt and groaned at the agonizing pleasure all but consuming him. “You’re so tight,
bella
. So damn soft and tight it’s killing me.” He could feel each tiny ripple, each spasm of those delicate inner muscles that threatened to milk him dry.

Sweat poured from his body as he fought to hold back, making her body slick as he hunched over to take a hot, pebbled nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked, fast and furious as he began to thrust harder against her as a violent need to claim her in every way broke through the last fragment of control.

“He tried to take you from me.” Anger at what might have happened combined with the feral hunger driving him had his gums burning with the emergence of his fangs.

They scrapped over the upper curve of her breast. “No one takes you from me.”

Her hands clamped around his biceps, those short nails digging in deep, the pleasure-pain turning his blood to lava, his hunger reaching feral levels of insanity. Hard, powerful lunges buried him deep inside her wet sheath, over and over, as he lashed one pouting nipple and then the other.

Soft cries of pleasure carried to his ears. Twisting, writhing under the weight of his body, her juices spilled on his shift with impending release. She wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself wider to the furious strokes of his cock. He plunged his hands in her hair, twining the thick strands around his fingers, holding her head in place as he licked and nipped his way to the sensitive spot at the base of her neck.

The place were a shifter claimed his mate. A deep mark made with fangs that warned all other shifters that this female belonged to another, and he would fight to the death to keep her. His jaguar was damn near delirious with ravenous need as the intoxicating scent of her filled his nostrils. With a snarling growl of hunger, he opened his mouth wide and pierced her shoulder with his fangs, his hips bucking against hers as her taste burst on his tongue.

She stiffened beneath him, her upper body arching into the unyielding press of his chest, and shuddered in hard, violent waves. At her choked scream of pleasure, Rome jerked above her, his head lifting from her shoulder with a roar of triumph as he drove his pulsing cock past the lush spasms of her pussy. His orgasm raced up from his curled toes, whipping sensations from one nerve ending to another until he poured everything he had deep inside the precious warmth of his mate.

Peeking through her lashes, Gwen surveyed the other
side of her bed in the near darkness of the room. Empty.

Reaching out, she slowly traced a hand over the still warm
sheets where Rome had lain. Listening for the slightest
sound, she heard nothing above the whirling of the ceiling
fan and the light rain tapping outside.

Rome had left.

Forehead puckering, Gwen rolled onto her back,
craning her neck to see the alarm clock click over to onefifty.

While she hadn’t thought far enough ahead about
Rome remaining until morning, she wasn’t quite prepared
to find herself alone, staring up at the ceiling fan and
wondering why he’d gone.

The call of nature interrupted her musing and she
grudgingly rose to a sitting position, the growing warmth
and tinges in her body a physical reminder of Rome’s
impressive skill and stamina. A spark of renewed desire
began to kindle low in her belly, making her womb contract
with need. “You have got to be kidding me,” she scowled
down at her pebbling nipples. “There is no way I should be
wanting more after last night.”

He’d all but carried her to the bathroom after the first
time, where he’d proceeded to use his busy hands and
clever mouth to drive her over the edge. After that, they’d
gone into the living room to shovel down what food they
could find, and somehow ended up on the couch, with her
straddling his thighs. Sated beyond belief, she pretty much
passed out after that, vaguely recalling Rome lifting her in
his arms and taking her back to bed.

Where he obviously left her all alone. Now her scowl
was for his disappearing act.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she rose to
her feet, surmising his departure was what woke her. With
the night lights to guide her way, she padded naked to the
bathroom, where the broken towel rack greeted her from
the tile floor. Her cheeks flooded with heat at the memory,
but more importantly, at the thought of telling Bob that she
needed it replaced.

From the bathroom she headed to her dresser, pulling
out panties and a thin tank top. She never slept naked,
feeling too vulnerable, and without Rome at her side, found
no reason to change her routine. It was as she was heading
back to bed that she spied a dark pile on the floor, almost
lost in the shadows of the room. On closer inspection she
realized that though Rome had left, his shoes, socks and
shirt had remained. She straightened. So he planned on
coming back.

Anticipation hummed in her veins at the prospect, the
heat of her body increasing until she wanted to strip off the
clothes she’d just donned. The air around her felt thick, the
scent of sex suddenly becoming more pronounced and
affecting her like an aphrodisiac.

“This is crazy.” She muttered, walking over to open the
curtains and unlock the sliding glass door. “I should be
dead to the world.”

She pushed the door open and took a step out onto
the balcony, far enough out to breath in the cleansing air,
yet not enough to get caught in the rain. Though her brain
calmed, her body continued to rage with need and she
couldn’t help but be a little miffed that it was all Rome’s
fault. As such, he should have manned up last night and
done some explaining, but instead they’d jumped each
other’s bones.

Something warm and melty spread through her body, a
feeling she was beginning to associate specifically to
Rome. It wasn’t as if she’d never felt desire before, but with
Rome, her reaction was particularly intense; a mix of
possessiveness and fierce hunger that damn near
obliterated everything else. As demonstrated when she’d
thrown herself at Rome with wild abandon right in front of
his parents’ eyes yesterday afternoon. Gwen might not be
the smartest bulb in the pack, but when she examined all
the evidence, she had the ability to piece everything
together on her own.

Rome was a shifter, a cat shifter – hell all the Felix men
were – and she was his mate. Other than some sort of
psychedelic drug that had unknowingly been slipped to her,
nothing else made sense. The physical craving, the
lonesomeness when he was gone, the sense of safety and
rightness she felt whenever his arms were around her.

Those were feelings that normally wouldn’t occur after such
a short acquaintance. And while she was deep into
introspection, she needed to plug in the way her heart and
soul welcomed him. Even her feminist side purred with
satisfaction at the thought of Rome.

Which brought to mind the sound he’d made after
they’d torn up the sheets. The deep rumbling in his chest
had vibrated against her own, like a soft engine, shocking
her at first, and then filling her with a little feminine
smugness. Purring. Rome had been purring. Just another
check mark on the list of shifter attributes. As was the
tendency to be dominate, aggressive and sexual. Triple
check marks there.

Their relationship wouldn’t be easy, him with his
dominate nature and her with her need for control. They
would each have to learn how to bend to avoid the pitfalls of
two colliding strong wills. She already knew Rome would go
out of his way to keep her safe, even to the detriment of his
own. That sense of protection was built into his DNA, along
with his code of honor. He’d grown up seeing the tight bond
between his parents and she imagined he would emulate
that same level of trust and love with his mate. Her. Gwen
Coultier. And she couldn’t deny she wanted it. Wanted to
be the recipient of all he had to give, and give back the
same. Her heart fluttered in her chest. She knew she was
falling for him, and the prospect scared her as much as it
excited her. Her life had suddenly shifted into hyper-drive,
but she was making the consciences decision right now to
keep her eyes wide open and not let go. She would seize
what they had together with both hands and fight for it. Fight
for a future with Rome.

But first things first. When he returned, they
would
talk.

Lost in though, she swiveled on her heel and stepped back into her bedroom. Only to whirl around again at the soft thud that came from behind her.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Her mouth went slack as she gaped at the wet vampire grinning at her from the balcony. Too late she reached for the handle on the sliding door and with terrifying ease, the blonde shoved his way in to stand on the threshold, forcing Gwen to stumble back on the bed. “I was just leaving when I saw you standing outside, and I thought, what perfect timing. Oh, and don’t even think about screaming for help.

Not only will I kill you, I’ll kill anyone who walks into this room.”

He didn’t have to worry on that account. She couldn’t even find her voice. After getting past the inane myth that a vampire couldn’t enter a house unless invited was thoroughly busted, she managed to ask in an unsteady voice, “What do you want?”

He raised a hand in the air with an elegant flick of his wrist. “The treasure of course. Where is it?

She dragged the edge of the sheet over the front of her body. “There is no treasure.”

Rage flashed across his face, turning his blue eyes completely black and making her almost sick with fear. “It was in the tunnel and it’s not there any more because I just checked. So where is it?”

Bile rose in the back of her throat. Floundering for something to say, mentally pleading for Rome to hurry back with a desperation bordering on panic, she recalled something Santos had said. “There was treasure once, but how do you think this place was bought and built?”

He tilted his head, as if considering the conviction behind her words. “Maybe some of it, but not all. Not when a gold coin was found out by the cabin, pinpointing its location. So, for the last time, tell me where it is.”

Gold coin? What gold coin? “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The bones on his face seemed to elongate, his nostrils flaring as he drew in a deep breath. Then suddenly he stilled. “What is that?” He sniffed again, his eyes darting quickly around the dim room before coming to rest on her neck. “There’s a shifter here? You’ve mated with a shifter?”

The vamp hadn’t known?

“A jaguar to be precise.” A reassuringly familiar voice said from behind her. Gwen twisted to see Rome just in the doorway, his gaze level on the intruder. Though his face revealed nothing, he somehow seemed bigger, more intimidating, the yellow-green of his glowing eyes the only hint at his heightened emotional state.

“Shifter bastard,” The vampire hissed, crouching low in an attack stance. Gwen hastened to the head of the bed, not wanting to be caught between the two males as a physical battle seemed imminent.

Without any warning, Rome leapt onto the bed, one second wearing nothing but his jeans and the next covered in the thick, black fur of a three hundred pound jaguar. It all happened in the blink of her eye and a bright spark of colors. She knew she was gawking, but believing and actually seeing were two very different things, and seeing Rome standing on four legs instead of two had her heart dancing a jig in her chest.

Her hands flew to her ears when he let out an enraged roar, the sound reverberating in the small room, his razorsharp teeth flashing blindingly white against the darkness of his fur. And though she knew him, knew he wouldn’t hurt her, the sight was intimidating as hell. A gasp escaped her lips before she could clamp her mouth shut.

The vampire was evidently intimidated as well because he suddenly whirled around and jumped over the balcony railing.

Rome let out another roar, the heavy muscles in his hind-quarters bunching as he prepared to jump from the bed.

“Rome.”

He barely spared her a glance, but the order in them was clear. Stay. Then he ran out the slider, across the short balcony and, with a powerful push of those rear muscles, cleared the railing.

Gwen swore a blue streak as she threw off the sheet and raced to the railing, expecting – and terrified – to see Rome laying hurt or motionless all those feet below her.

She didn’t think he’d had enough room to make the leap, but as she peered anxiously at the grass below, she saw his dark shape gathering sped as he chased the vamp toward the water.

Gwen did some sped gathering of her own, sprinting out the front door of her suite and toward the stairs. All the noise must have woken Scott because he met her at the top, his hands still buttoning the front of his jeans. He did a double take at her lack of attire, but when she said, “Vampire out front,” he edged past her down the stairs. She caught up to him as he had to pause in his flight to unlock the front door, and just as he swung it open, a third roar echoed from the kitchen. They turned as one to see a huge jaguar, more massive than Rome with distinctive vibrant orange, black and yellow fur, bounding toward them at break-neck speed. Flattening themselves against the foyer wall rather than be run over, the cat flew by without a glance, clearing the front steps in a mighty leap to follow the direction Rome had taken.

Eyes like saucers, Gwen stared up at Scott. He shrugged. “I’m a wolf,” and headed out into the dark night.

Great. Now she could add werewolves to her growing list of living myths. Gwen shook her head and followed him out, moving much slower, the cloud cover and falling rain blocking out the stars and moon. She made it to the grass at the edge of the parking lot and looked up at her room.

Situated at the corner of the house, her balcony actually faced the side, giving her a nice view of the ocean without the parking lot. It also made Rome’s landing that much softer as the grass would have cushioned his feet. Paws.

Whatever.

From the back of the house a dark, sleek shape streaked across the lawn. Another jaguar. She didn’t know if it was Santos or Porter, but admired it from afar just the same. It too headed in the direction of the mighty feline roars from somewhere in the distance. Not wanting to get in the way, and because she couldn’t see a damn thing and didn’t relish the idea of stepping barefoot on anything that might be meandering through the wet grass, she stayed put, wrapping her arms around her middle, blinking as the warm rain continued to fall in a soft drizzle.

She heard the sound of an engine only seconds before headlights flashed across her, the beams jerking briefly as if the driver was startled at the sight of a half-naked female standing alone in the rain. In the dark. She wasn’t even concerned as the vehicle slowly approached. Probably numb from the shock. Luckily it was only Porter.

“So, what’s going on?” He sauntered up to her side, his tone calmly inquisitive, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

“They’re out chasing the vampire.” She responded just as nonchalantly.