The Lady Is a Vamp (8 page)

“Well, let’s see, I have . . . pretty much everything,” he said wryly, and then glanced over his shoulder and up at her to explain, “I buy the new releases pretty regularly.”

“I suppose you don’t get out much, what with Livy being sick,” Jeanne Louise said with sympathy.

“No,” Paul admitted, turning back to the DVDs. “But I didn’t get out much before that either. Not since my wife . . .”

“Is that
Red
?” Jeanne Louise asked to change the subject when he fell silent.

“Yeah.” He reached for the DVD.

“I heard it was pretty good,” she said.

“It is. I really liked it,” Paul said handing it to her to read the back. “Malkovich was amazing in it.”

Jeanne Louise nodded and handed it back. “Would you mind seeing it again?”

“No, of course not. I’ve seen pretty much everything I have,” he said closing the doors and straightening.

Leaving him to get the DVD started, Jeanne Louise moved back to the love seat and settled on it, her gaze skittering to the other half of the seat. It wasn’t especially small, but it was a love seat, made to encourage closeness and cuddling. Well, she wanted to know about that final indicator, life-mate passion, Jeanne Louise reminded herself. The situation couldn’t be better for it. She suspected though that she’d be the one making the first move. Paul didn’t have a clue what they might be to each other, or what was in store. She did.

This was definitely a reversal of roles for her. Jeanne Louise wasn’t usually the aggressor in these situations. She usually let the men make the moves and do the chasing. Mind you, she did occasionally give a mental push of encouragement to mortal men if she read they were interested and she was attracted to them herself. It saved time. One of the benefits of being immortal, Jeanne Louise supposed. Sadly, she couldn’t use that on Paul. She couldn’t even read him to see if he was interested. She was as ignorant and uncertain in this situation as a mortal woman would be . . . and she didn’t think she particularly cared for it.

“There we go.” Paul returned to the love seat, remote in hand. Jeanne Louise offered a smile as he settled beside her and pressed the button to start the movie, or at least the FBI warning at the beginning of it.

They fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence as they waited for the warning to finish rolling over the screen. Paul was staring at it as if the message was one he’d never seen before and needed to read. Jeanne Louise was staring at him, her gaze gliding over his short dark hair, before sliding to his face to take in the slightly weathered boy-next-door good looks.

By her guess, Paul was in his late thirties or early forties. She supposed he’d waited until his thirties to marry and have Livy. It made her wonder if they’d planned to have more children after Livy and fate had intervened, or if she had been all they’d wanted or could manage. Jeanne Louise briefly considered asking, but then decided against it. Bringing up the deceased wife didn’t seem a smart thing to do when she planned to try to seduce him in the next hour or so.

Jeanne Louise grimaced slightly at the thought. It was something she was going to have to work up to. It wasn’t like she could just throw herself on him now and plant one on him or something. Actually, having left the approach up to men all these years, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to do here. Geez.

“There we go.”

Jeanne Louise glanced to the screen at that satisfied mutter from Paul to see that the FBI warning was over and he’d fast forwarded through the movie trailers to the feature presentation. A digital clock face took up most of the screen. She took note of the time, and then smiled as the lead character sat up in bed.

Almost two hours later, Jeanne Louise sat back with a little sigh as the final credits rolled.

“Good?” Paul asked with a smile.

“Excellent, like you said,” she responded with a grin.

Paul chuckled and stood to move to the DVD player, saying, “I have to check on Livy, but we could watch something else if you like. ”

When he squatted in front of the DVD player, Jeanne Louise moved to join him, dropping to squat at his side as he opened the double doors again to reveal his collection. She glanced quickly over the row of movies, but her mind was on how she was supposed to make moves on him. She’d got kind of distracted with the movie and had lost the plot of what she was supposed to be doing here. The problem was, she didn’t have a clue how to start it. Did she just lunge at the man and plant one on him? Was she supposed to say something smooth and seductive and then plant one on him?

Cripes, at that moment she couldn’t even recall how the mortal she was presently dating had made his move. As she recalled, he’d just whispered something by her ear as they were dancing and when she’d glanced to him, he’d kissed her. It had seemed so natural at the time. Had he been standing there, holding her in his arms beforehand agonizing over how to do it as she was now? Jeanne Louise hadn’t been in his thoughts at the time, so couldn’t be sure.

“You’re frowning. Is something wrong?”

“No,” Jeanne Louise said quickly, and then movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention. She glanced over to see Boomer entering the room. He padded to her side and pressed against her as she gave him a pet. Continuing to rub his fur, she turned back to the selection available and said, “I’ll let you pick this time. I picked the last one.”

“Hmm.” Paul glanced over his collection as he replaced the
Red
DVD in its case and then shrugged. “I’ll pick when I get back.”

When he straightened, Jeanne Louise did as well and they both turned toward the door, but Boomer decided he should go as well and apparently he thought the fastest route was between her feet. Jeanne Louise gasped and shifted her step quickly to avoid stepping on the dog, then grabbed wildly for Paul’s shoulder to keep from falling as she lost her balance. He paused at once and turned to catch her by both arms, instinctively drawing her against his chest to steady her.

“All right?” he asked with concern. “You didn’t twist an ankle or anything, did you? I swear Boomer’s gonna end up breaking my leg someday, he’s always tripping me up.”

“I’m fine,” Jeanne Louise assured him with a wry smile as she lifted her head. The smile faded though when she realized just how close they were. His mouth was a bare inch away, close enough she could feel his breath on her lips, close enough to kiss. So she did. She simply leaned a little closer and pressed her lips to his before he could release her or move away.

He was definitely her life mate. Jeanne Louise knew that for sure when the gentle brush of her lips across his set off an explosion of sensation that rocketed through her body, shooting from her lips to every corner of her body.

Judging by the way Paul froze, she wasn’t the only one who experienced it. In the next moment, what she should do next was no longer a problem. Paul used his hold on her arms to draw her closer still, and then slid his arms around her as his mouth began to move on hers. Jeanne Louise opened to him at once, her lips parting and her hands clutching at his shirt as his tongue thrust between her lips.

Jeanne Louise had been kissed by a lot of men in the almost 103 years she’d lived. Some had been incredibly skilled. But none had affected her as this one did. The next few moments were a rush of overwhelming sensation as his lips caressed, sucked, and nibbled at hers while his tongue played, and then his lips and tongue slid across her cheek to her neck to do the same there.

A long deep groan slid from Jeanne Louise’s lips as his tongue found the hollow above her collarbone. Releasing the death grip she had on his shirt, she slid her fingers into his hair, and then tugged on the soft strands when his hands slid beneath the back of her shirt and up her back. When they stopped at the strap of her bra and then slid back down, nails scraping lightly, she thought her skin would pull itself right off her body to follow.

Dear God, no one in a hundred years had done that, and it felt good. Better than good. His mouth and hands on her, his pelvis pressing against hers . . . her body was reacting like a virgin’s: stomach quivering and legs trembling. Even her lower lip was shaking, she realized, as wave after mounting wave of pleasure slid through her, and then she used the hold she had on his hair to drag his head up so she could claim his lips again.

Paul responded at once, his mouth covering hers, more demanding. His hands were kneading the skin of her back now, pressing her closer as they did, and then one hand slid around to find one of her breasts and Jeanne Louise rose up on her tiptoes with a gasp at the first touch. She then groaned into his mouth and pressed closer as he kneaded the soft flesh there through her blouse, her hips shifting and pressing her more tightly against the hardness growing between his legs. The action sent a sharp jolt of pleasure shimmering through her own body that had her shifting against him again.

Cursing, Paul gave up kissing her to pull back slightly as his hand released her breast to find the buttons of her shirt. He was impatient and she was sure he would pop a button or two in his efforts, would even have welcomed it if it would speed things along. But he managed to undo the first four or five buttons and then tugged the white blouse aside to reveal the pale pink bra she wore beneath her silk blouse. His head immediately lowered to allow his tongue to slide across the skin above her bra and then his fingers tugged the soft cup aside, freeing her breast. His lips immediately covered and latched on to her rosy nipple.

Now it was Jeanne Louise who was gasping out a curse and clutching at him as he suckled. The sensations battering her were almost too much to bear, and she groaned, shivered and moaned by turn, worrying that at this rate she’d faint before they got to actually having sex. Her legs were already shaking so badly she was having trouble staying on her feet. When Jeanne Louise sagged against him, Paul helped her out by slipping one leg between both of hers. The pressure of his thigh against the very core of her was nearly her undoing.

Crying out, Jeanne Louise nipped at the skin of his shoulder, then turned her head and did the same to his neck, having just enough sense to keep her fangs in as she did. Paul nipped at her nipple in response, startling a yelp out of her, and then raised his head to claim her mouth again. His tongue thrust between her lips as his hand replaced his mouth at her breast, his fingers finding the erect nipple and tweaking it as he urged her backward.

She felt the wall press against her back. His body was pressing tight against her front, pinning her to that wall and Jeanne Louise was grateful for it. Her legs definitely weren’t going to keep her upright much longer. Her hands had taken to clutching at his shoulders to help hold herself up, but now she moved them between them, running them over his chest, then finding the hem of the T-shirt he wore and pulling and pushing it up his stomach so her hands could slip beneath and run over the flesh there. She then slid them up to his chest, each finding a pec and kneading briefly before her fingers centered on his nipples and squeezed them.

The action brought a groan from Paul that reverberated between her lips, and then she groaned too as another wave of pleasure rolled through her. They were growing with each pass, building to the point where she felt sure they couldn’t get stronger, and yet each wave was bigger still until she was sure she would drown under the foaming surf. It scared her, but it was also irresistible.

Jeanne Louise had never understood why the French called it the
petite mort
, or “small death.” But she thought she might now, and wanted to experience it so badly in that moment that she thought she’d die without it. That goal her only thought, she raised her own leg now trapped between both of his and rubbed her upper thigh against his hardness. She was rewarded with another groan and another wave of passion rolling through her that just egged her on.

“Daddy?”

Jeanne Louise heard that soft call and froze. The fact that Paul didn’t stop told her that he hadn’t heard with his mortal hearing. She slid her hands back out from under his shirt with regret and caught his head between her hands to force him away. He peered at her blankly, blind with passion, and Jeanne Louise opened her mouth to explain, but Livy’s call came again, a little louder.

“Daddy?”

Paul stiffened, the passion clearing at once and then he pulled away and hurried from the room.

Jeanne Louise sank back against the wall with a weak sigh. Damn. He’d snapped out of that in a hurry while she was still trembling and shaking like a cat who’d just had a brief dunking in a washing machine. The power of parenthood, she told herself, struggling not to be offended. The child was seriously ill, after all. Of course Paul would rush to her side rather than continue what he was doing. But damn, his head had cleared a hell of a lot quicker than hers.

Sighing, Jeanne Louise slipped her bra back into place, tugged her blouse shut, closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. The good news was she now knew for sure that Paul was her life mate. She’d not only never experienced passion as heavy and hot as that in her life, but they’d also definitely been experiencing the “shared passion” everyone spoke about. The passion merging and running back and forth between them, growing stronger with each pass until she’d thought she’d die if it wasn’t consummated.

And that was more good news, Jeanne Louise supposed, they’d been interrupted before she could experience the
petite mort
immortal style. Now she just had to see if Paul would be willing to be her life mate . . . and not just to save his daughter’s life.

Grimacing, she took another steadying breath and then straightened, grateful when she was able to stand on her own. Her legs were still a little shaky, but some water on her face and wrists would help with that, she was sure. They would also hopefully bring an end to the tremble in her hands so she could manage doing up her buttons. With that thought in mind, Jeanne Louise glanced around and then spotted the door at the end of the room beside the bed. Moving to it, she opened it, half expecting to find herself in a walk-in closet. Instead the door opened into a large bathroom in cream and Indian brown.