Nightfall (15 page)

Her form shimmered, and the woman disappeared, replaced by
the butterfly. It paused, hovering, the wings fluttering, then it slipped
through the crack of the flue and headed out the way it had come.

The wet, tight skin of Selene’s pussy clamped around his
cock, squeezing it, milking it, making his balls draw up as his body prepared
to explode. Her hot liquid bathed him and just like that he erupted like a
geyser. God, she was tighter than a fist, gripping him so hard—

Quinn’s eyes flew open, sunshine slanting in from the window
and temporarily blinding him.

Shit. Another dream.

His hand was wrapped tightly around his penis and his
fingers were covered with thick drops of cum. While it had been worth it, even
in a dream, to bury himself in Selene’s cunt, he was exhausted, as if he hadn’t
had a minute of sleep. He was stunned he’d had the energy for such an intense
wet dream. Even more so that he still wanted Selene with a fierceness that threatened
to consume him. His hunger for her went beyond any sexual need in his memory.
Was that a vampire thing?

Squinting against the bright sunlight, he looked around the
bedroom. She was gone, no sign of her anywhere, just the faint lingering trace
of her scent on the sheets. He had an insane desire to wrap himself in the
bedclothes as if he could rub her essence all over his body.

He glanced at the dresser, hoping she’d left a note for him,
but there was nothing on the surface except the lamp and his usual junk. Though
his pocket knife had been moved to the nightstand. Frowning, he picked it up.

Her words from the previous night sat in his brain with the
weight of a boulder. All that talk about marking, about possessing. About
eternal connections. He recalled his unexpected roar of jealousy that she’d
consider engaging in such an intimate act with someone other than himself. He
didn’t want another man’s hands on her. Or her mouth on anyone else. She was
his, and he had to make damn sure she knew that. But even more than that he was
hers, in a way he’d never belonged to anyone else in his life. Rationally he
wanted to discard all that shit about vampires, but emotionally? He wanted to
be her servant. Real or conjured up, he wanted her to do whatever was necessary
to make him a permanent part of her.

The last thing he remembered was placing a kiss on her
delicate breastbone as he wrapped his arms around her and lay back with her
warm against his body. His cock, semi-hard by then, had still been nestled in the
wet heat of her pussy. He could still feel her hands on his cheeks and
forehead, the whisper of her voice urging him to sleep.

He wondered if she was angry that he’d fallen asleep during
sex.

Of course she is, asshole.

Well, he’d done that all right. No wonder she’d left him
without a word. In his entire life he’d never fallen asleep during sex, but
he’d felt as if she drained every bit of energy from him. He’d have to find a
way to apologize to her. Hell, he’d strip down and let her tie him up like a calf
during team roping if that would make her happy. Anything she wanted.

With great reluctance, he heaved himself out of bed and
headed for the shower. By the time he had the water turned on full force he was
hard as a steel rod again. It seemed all he had to do was think of the ethereal
Selene, and his cock stood up and saluted. Leaning against the tile wall, the
spray beating down on his body, he cupped his balls with one hand while he
rubbed his cock with the other.

Yeah, he knew he was supposed to call her to do this, but if
she was mad at him, that was probably just yesterday’s game, everything re-set
now. If he didn’t release some of this pressure, he wasn’t going to be able to
focus.

As her image danced in his brain he stroked himself, another
orgasm gathering deep inside his body like a coil of steel set to spring. He
saw her fingers wrapped around him, her lips surrounding the head of his shaft,
her tongue lapping the flesh sheathing the hard rod of his penis. The muscles
at the base of his spine stiffened, his balls tightened and he erupted like a
geyser, spewing the thick liquid over his hand.

He struggled to even out his breathing as the water washed
away the semen, evidence of his body’s addiction to this woman. It took awhile
before he could draw a full breath, his heartbeat steadying down to something
close to normal. But it took him longer to dry himself off, his limbs heavy,
his body protesting his demands on it.

Wiping the steam from the mirror over the sink, he stared at
himself. Then his gaze landed on the mark on his wrist, no bigger than the
sting of an insect. It jumped out at him as if bathed in a spotlight. Vaguely,
he remembered her nicking him with his pocket knife, then her mouth sealing
over the spot, but he’d thought it was part of his dreams. Well, that explained
the relocation of his pocket knife. Was that why he was so weak? Was he crazy
to let someone drink his blood, play into her fantasy about being a vampire? He
had a ranch to run.

After a vampire gives the second mark, she can speak in
her servant’s head and allow him to hear her thoughts, when she wants him to do
that.
Her words from the night before were as distinct as if she had just
uttered them. But last night she had refused to give him that second mark. She
had laid out all the reasons why it wouldn’t be a good idea. Accused him of
being a romantic when he embraced the idea of hearing her voice in his head.
But he wouldn’t mind carrying her voice around with him all the time. It
soothed him, calmed him, even as her touch drove him to extreme peaks of sexual
arousal.

If serving her was the key to their intense physical
pleasure, he was definitely all for it. Even if it meant serving her on his
knees. Who the hell would have ever thought that would be such a turn-on for him?

His buttocks clenched again as he remembered her promise to
fuck his ass with a strap-on, wrists bound to restrain him. His poor exhausted
dick tried its best to harden again. The feel of his fingers in that hot dark
tunnel had been so arousing he’d had to grit his teeth to maintain some
semblance of control. And they were his own damn fingers. His breathing
accelerated and he gripped the edge of the sink. It seemed Selene might be
otherworldly after all, since she apparently had cast some kind of spell on
him.

He touched the mark on his wrist, enraged again at the
thought of her marking Turley so she could feed. Feed, for shit’s sake. Whether
he truly believed everything she told him, he planned to do whatever it took so
her mouth never touched anyone again except him. He would tell her so, tonight.
Make damn sure she understood.

Annette was cleaning up the counters when he finally made it
into the kitchen. She gave him a hard look but said only, “I kept your
breakfast warm in the oven. You look like you need it. The coffee’s fresh.”

“Thanks.”

There was no way he could put his body through the rigors of
ranch work today. Anyway, he still had records to update—weight gain, feed
mixture and myriad minutiae that went into breeding saleable stock. He called Dave
Ojeda on the two-way and told him to take care of whatever needed doing out
there. He, Quinn, would be in his office if they needed him.

But even the paperwork seemed to tax him. His mind kept
wandering, remembering Selene’s body, her satiny skin, the brush of her glossy
hair against his body. The incredibly gentle touch of her fingers even as she
drew yet another exhausting climax from him.

In her joke about her shrine to Satan he’d detected an odd
anxiety, as if she
wanted
to discourage him from fully believing in the
vampire thing. He was a practical man all in all, not one to be drawn in by
hustlers, promises of easy money or miracles too good to be true, but he also
knew how to draw conclusions from the available evidence, and there was a lot
of evidence gathering when it came to Selene. Her obvious worry last night that
he was actually starting to believe her might just be one of the biggest
indications it
could
be true. If he were a vampire trying to blend,
wouldn’t he depend on people’s skepticism, their easy dismissal that someone
who thought they were a vampire actually wasn’t, to protect the truth?

But his open-mindedness to the otherworldly was only part of
why he was going along with this. The real reason, he was sure, was the
unexpected bond he felt with Selene. The idea of being her servant wasn’t at
all unappealing. And the craziest thing? He was beginning to feel comfortable
with the concept. The big alpha cowboy was actually settling in to the idea of
giving control to a woman who was as insubstantial as a faery and barely came
up to his chest.

You’re addicted to the sex.

Well, yeah. Maybe. It was certainly better than any he’d
ever had in his life. But it was more than that. She had a power over him that
bound him more tightly than any lariat or whip yet he welcomed the restraint.

I am so fucked.

He finally lay down on the couch across from his desk, where
he fell into a half-doze. But he was restless, taunted by thoughts of a naked
Selene straddling him. Giving up, he went to sit on the back porch, hoping
fresh air would cleanse his addled brain. It might have, if the butterfly
hadn’t appeared, riding a current of air to land on his knee.

Quinn stared at the gossamer wings, that same smoky blue of
Selene’s tempting eyes and the liquid gold of her hair. Damn. He could almost
hear her regal voice, commanding him.

Would you take off your clothes out here if I told you
to, cowboy?

Quinn shook his head. He was losing his fucking mind.

Annette gave him an odd look when he gave dinner a quick
pass, excusing himself and muttering something about lack of appetite.

“You feeling okay, Quinn?” she asked.

“Yes. Fine. Good.” Horny. “I just need to get down to the
bar.”

“I thought that new manager you hired had everything under
control. Rumor is she’s some hot piece.”

Rage boiled up inside him. “You tell anyone who runs their
mouth that Selene is a lady, a sharp one, too smart to fiddle with the likes of
anyone around here. If I hear any talk or see anyone taking liberties they’ll
be looking up at the sky from a dumpster.”

“Okay, okay!” She held up her hands. “Pardon me all to
hell.”

“She’s doing a damn fine job, in case you wanted to know. I
just thought I’d see if she needed a hand.”

He could feel Annette’s eyes boring holes in him as he
headed out of the kitchen. The woman was too smart for her own good.

He showered once more, even though he hadn’t done any hard
work during the day, and shaved carefully. Again he touched the mark on his
wrist. According to Selene the third mark was the one that made him fully her
servant. So if the second mark was an interim step that would give them both
more energy but not completely bind him, why wouldn’t she do it?

Whether he believed everything she said or not, it stunned
him to realize how intensely he craved that second mark. Maybe even the third
one. As he brushed his teeth, splashed on aftershave and dressed in clean
clothes, he was besieged with an urgency to see her, so much so that he had to
stop himself from speeding as he headed down the highway into town.

Despite it being a weeknight, After Hours was busy. Carol
was on shift tonight and moving easily from table to table, serving drinks and
bussing the empties efficiently. Apparently she’d had the Selene speed-training
program. Selene was behind the bar, mixing drinks, working the cash register
and bestowing her public smile on each customer who ordered.

He moved into the barback with her, filled two beers for
customers and tapped her on the shoulder. When she gave him a cool stare, it
was clear she’d been fully aware of his arrival. As usual.

“You’re in my way, cowboy.”

Whoa. What the hell? “Just wanted to make sure you had
everything you needed.”

“Of course I do. I don’t need you hovering.” She frowned.
“Or are you doubting my abilities?”

Okay, this was not about getting in her space. It had to be
about him falling asleep. Damn it, this was what he’d been afraid of. But she
had to know she’d worn him out. Hadn’t it been her telling him to close his
eyes?

“Listen.” He drew a breath. “I want to apologize—”

She bumped into him as she took a bottle down from a back
shelf. “Not now. I have customers to serve.”

Though he bristled at her tone, a glance around showed way
too many interested ears perked. This was getting him nowhere fast. He’d best
wait until the crowd died down and he could get her alone.

“Fine. I’ll be in the office,” he told her shortly and
headed down the hallway.

If he lived to be a hundred he didn’t think he’d ever
understand women. He’d roped steers that weren’t as cantankerous. Last night
when she showed up at the ranch with no warning, he’d thought he was dreaming.
He’d been lying in bed half asleep and suddenly there she was, in his room, as
if he’d just conjured her up.

His cock swelled and pressed against his fly at the memory
of her hands on his body, massaging and rubbing. He hadn’t thought he’d be able
to participate, as worn out as he was, but Selene managed to coax his body to
mate with her in a hot, lazy coupling. Her voice had enveloped him like
molasses as she took him into the wetness of her cunt and drew his response out
of him.

Like a Mistress. Like the Mistress she told him she was.

It had all been so good, and then he’d gone and fallen
asleep, asshole that he was. He’d make it up to her, if he could just get her
to talk to him.

The hours dragged by as he did his best to pass the time in
the office. A few times he lounged in the entrance to the main room, checking
out the crowd. Checking out Selene. But she either scowled at him or ignored
him completely.

He crafted a few apologies in his head, but as time passed,
he couldn’t help feeling the punishment wasn’t exactly matching the crime. He’d
been worn out, and at least he’d made sure she’d had pleasure before he dropped
off. She was the one who’d shown up unexpected. Damn it, he wasn’t a cringing
doormat, and if she thought she could talk to him like dirt just because he let
her tie him up, they needed to talk that shit out.