Vampires and Sexy Romance (81 page)

I felt him stab desperately in and out of me, and then he pushed in as far and hard as he could, groaning out his climax.  

As he slowly unlatched his arms from under my knees he kissed me again, slow and sweet.  When he looked into my eyes I could see something I didn’t recognize.  It scared me for an instant until he churned himself in and out of me a few more times, kissing me and biting my lower lips before extricating himself from my grasping canal.  He rolled over off me and sprawled beside me on the bed.

I was about to ask what that look had been when he rolled back over and gently sucked on my nipple, squeezing my breast then running his fingers down my ribs one by one.

“Better call for that pizza,” he said as he bit playfully at the tender nub of my tit.  “Before we start on round two.”

Round two?  My mind did that sexy purr thing ... yet my stomach grumbled its objection to anything getting in the way of pizza.

Dean rolled out of bed and padded barefoot and butt naked through my apartment, his dimpled rump bouncing enticingly.  “What’s the best place around here for pizza?”

“What?”  I said, lost in the jiggle of Dean’s perfect booty.  “Oh, yeah.  Giovanni’s, on sixty-fourth.  The number’s by the phone.”   

*****

In the morning light spilled into my bedroom illuminating the empty pizza box on the floor, my clothes strewn across the floor from the door to my jeans hanging off the edge of my bed --  I could see the tiny flowers of my granny panties.  And it illuminated Dean as he slept, his arm draped over me as I snuggled against his smooth skinned chest.

Now this was heaven!

“What time is it?”  Dean asked groggily as I licked and bit at one of his perfect little nipples.

I looked up over his shoulder to the alarm clock.  “Ten to eleven.”

He sighed and crushed me to him.  “I’ve got a thing across town in an hour.  I better hit the shower before we get going again.”

“We could always have a quickie in the shower ...”  I said hopefully. 

He kissed me and I got lost in his lips for a minute.  “We did it three times last night and you’re still horny?”

I stroked his hardening cock between my fingers, squeezing it in my palm.  “I’m not the only horny one here.”

“Okay, you win.”  He ground his cock against my pussy.  “But I’m pretty sure we could never just do a quickie.”

I pouted and faked a whimper as he pulled himself away from me and struggled off the bed.  He coughed as he stood and his incredible erection bobbed up and down looking entirely too large for his body.  Too large for anybody.

Dean showered and put his clothes back on, finally finding his polo shirt by the front door.

“Can I come over again tonight?”  He asked as he shimmied back into his shirt.

I weighed how exhausted I was, how much effort would have to go into looking good again, and put having him here on the other side of the scales.

“Think we’ll make it to the restaurant this time?”

He smiled and shook his head.  “Probably not ...” he looked down into my eyes.  “I’ll bring Chinese, so don’t bother getting all done up.  We’ll be spending most of the evening in your bed anyways.”

I gulped and could feel the flesh of my cheeks redden.

He kissed me goodbye -- long and potent -- and I locked the door behind him.  I stretched, contemplated making coffee, and then decided that going back to bed would be the best decision.

But then he was knocking at my door.  I smiled.  “Couldn’t wait till tonight?”  I flung open the door and Mother stood there looking down the hall, obviously ogling Dean as he waited for the elevator.  “My, he has the tightest bottom.”

I grabbed her and pulled her into my apartment, hoping Dean hadn’t noticed her sizing him up ... or that she was standing in front of my apartment.

“Cripes, Mother ... could you be any more obvious?”

“Of course I could.  But it would be tacky to grope the man your own daughter is bedding.”  She canted her head and shot me a reproachful glare.  “A man that said daughter described to a T, except the part about him being a doctor.  A surgeon no less.”

“Okay, that’s creepy.  How the hell did you know that by just looking at his ass?”

“Please.  I’ve lived in Manhattan for thirty-five years ... I know professional men.  And don’t change the subject.  Why do I have to find these thing out for myself?”

“Well ...”  She just stared me down with her arms crossed over her chest.  “Truth is I didn’t want you planning the wedding already.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

“Sure.  But all I had to do was tell you I had a date with that tax attorney ... what’s his name?”

“Miles Jenkins.”

I tapped my nose.  “Exactly.  You registered us at Bloomingdale’s, Macy’s and Bath and Bodyworks.”

“And you really should’ve been nicer to Miles --”

I cut across her as she followed me into my bedroom.  I blushed at the state of my rumpled bed. “He was ten years older than me!”

“But he made partner this year ... and believe me, age isn’t everything.”

I had a sudden image flash in front of my eyes, of Mother with some half naked young stud covered in smudges of oil paints.  I shook my head to try and dislodge it from my skull.

“He had a comb-over and pulled out a pocket calculator to split the dinner check ... and he didn’t leave a tip for the waitress.” I pulled on my jeans again and pulled out another old t-shirt and headed to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

Mother’s eyes shot open about the calculator and him not tipping.  “Well, that is rather telling.”

“That’s all I’m saying.”

“We really need to get you better sheets, dear.” she shot from the bedroom.  “These old things are retched.”

“Not another trip to Macy’s?”  I whined.

“For sheets?  Heaven’s no.  I always go to Bloomingdale’s for bedding and toiletries.”

I couldn’t wait to see how they ran around for her there.

*****

Two hours later I stood in front of my bed staring down at the six-hundred count baby blue sheets Mother had bought me.  Those and the satiny soft cotton blanket and the silky bedspread -- which I think was real silk. I had to admit my bed looked a lot more appetizing now than it had.

And the fact that I now had this ensemble in red, midnight blue and black attested to Mother’s thorough nature, and my new willingness to let her spend her rather hefty fortune on me.

I wasn’t letting her buy me a car or a rich husband ... but how could I say no to something like six hundred count Egyptian cotton sheets.  Martha Stuart eat your heart out!

I pulled off my jeans and boots and slipped back into bed.  The sheets were better than I had imagined.  I felt like I was lying on a cloud.  I snuggled into my pillow and by the count of three I was out.

*****

I didn’t want to wake up, but someone was calling both my cell phone and my home phone at the same time.  I ignored it as long as I could, which was a while since the sheets had a powerful sedating effect on me.

But when finally I rolled out of those magnificent sheets I stalked out to the living room and saw that both lines were Bess.

“How are you calling both numbers?”

“Back up cells phones, of course.”

“Of course.” 

“I’ve been trying to call you all damn day.  Where have you been?”

I stretched and sounded way too satisfied when I said, “Here, in bed.”

“Well ... I don’t blame you for not answering you phone then.”

“Pervert... I was alone.”

“I’m the pervert, yet you’re the one sounding all incredibly well fucked ... and you were all alone in bed!”

“Six hundred count Egyptian cotton sheets.”  I purred.

“Ooh ... where from?  Macy’s?”

“Bloomie’s.”

“You’re Mother has the best taste.” 

I couldn’t argue there.

“So, how was your date with the good doctor last night?”

“Didn’t make it to the restaurant.”

“I knew it!”  Bess gloated.  “Bet you did it like a couple of animals.”

“He’s coming over tonight again.”

“Um, when is he coming over?”

“Eight.’

“Cupcake, it’s half-past now.”

My eyes shot to the clock on the wall.  “Crap!” 

“You probably have bed-hair, so jump in the shower and I’ll be there in ten to slap you together.”

“He said not to get all done up.”

“Men always say that, but they never mean it.”

And she disconnected.

*****

Chapter 15

I was dripping wet with a towel around my head and one around the rest of me.  It was seven minutes later, so I was so grateful that I heard knocking on my door.  Bess was early -- must’ve used her magic powers.

“Thank god you’re here!”  I said as I swung open my front door.  And there stood Dean, a wicked smile on his face, hot flames of lust burning behind his melted chocolate eyes.

I pulled the towel around me tighter and pulled my legs together at the knees.  “You’re early.”

“And you’re naked and wet ... are you my door prize?”  He stepped into my apartment and pulled me into one of his intoxicating kisses.  I thought he was going to just start making love to me right there by the coat rack, but then he let me go and walked toward the kitchen.  

“I’ve got Chinese.  Go put a robe on or we’ll never eat.”

I had the robe from my day of beauty at Elizabeth Arden.  Mother to the rescue again.  I stripped off the wet towel from around my body and snuggled into the warm thick terrycloth.  I ran a quick comb though my hair and contemplated trying to do my makeup myself, but he’d already seen me without it.  In fact, he’d probably seen me looking pretty bad at least three times.  Recent memories of morning bed head and streaked mascara had to make me look pretty appealing right now.

I padded into the living room just as the phone rang.  It was Bess.

“I got stuck in fucking traffic.  I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

“He’s already here.”  I whispered into the phone.  “I don’t think I’ll need makeup tonight.  He practically molested me when he walked in the door .”

“Fabulous!  I’ll expect all the steamy details in the morning ... go fuck him senseless.”

Click.

I strolled into the kitchen and found my countertop covered with a virtual buffet of Chinese cuisine:  sweet and sour pork, General Pso’s chicken, pineapple chicken, Szechwan beef, fried rice, shrimp and egg rolls, and pot stickers.

I chewed on a pot sticker as I filled my plate.  We ate sitting on a couple stools at the counter.  He told me about a new bone replacement that was made of graphite.  It was lighter and more durable than steel rods, and it was molded into a rather convincing bone shape.

When he asked me about my day   I suddenly wished I’d worked that day.  A good story about the cocktail waitress with the boob job would’ve been great right about then.

“I forgot I had a lunch date with my Mother, so she showed up just as you left.”

“The great looking dame in the suit?”

“That’s her.”

Dean looked embarrassed.  “I think she was undressing me with her eyes.  Felt like I should be wearing led lined underwear.”

“That wouldn’t help you with her.” I laughed and traced my toe up the side of Dean’s calf.  “She knew you were a doctor on sight.”

“Oh?  Anything else she knew just by looking at me.”  He ran his hand up my bare thigh and partially up inside my robe.

“Just that you were a surgeon ... and,”  I smiled mischievously.  “And that you had a great ass.  But she could have divined that just by looking at you.”

His other hand slid up my other thigh.  “I must be awfully hot if my girlfriend and her Mother have the hots for me.”

He called me his “girlfriend.”  I was suddenly flabbergasted.  I tried to keep my attention on my plate of delicious Chinese food, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes off him ... and I had a goofy smile spreading across my lips.

“What’s that smile for?” He traced his finger down the line of my jaw and curled it lightly up under my chin.

“Girlfriend?”  My voice was practically dripping with excitement.  If I were watching this scene on Lifetime television I’d be ready to hurl the remote at the TV.  But in the moment I just couldn’t help myself.

“Well, you are.”  He kissed me and sent shivers of want and nervousness all through my body.

Dean took my plate from my hands before I dropped it, then he leaned closer and pulled open my robe, kissing my lips ever so lightly as his hands glided like a feather over my breasts  and down over my ribs, settling on my hips.

He scooped me up off the stool and planted me on the counter, my butt pushing the assorted cartons of food back.  I helped him pull his shirt up over his head, letting my hands play down his ribs then smooth back up over his sternum and over his hard, bulging pecks.

He took my left nipple in his mouth as he fumbled with his belt, tearing recklessly at the buckle, and then almost ripping his kakis open.  I reached down and felt his length fill my hand.  He gasped as I gripped then stroked his tumescent cock.

“Condoms are in the bedroom, smart guy.”  I flicked at his earlobe with my tongue.

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a strip of three Trojans, his smile steeped in lust.

“Were you a boy scout?”  I plucked the foil wrappers from his fingers, tore open the first one, then slowly rolled the latex sheath over the tip and up the thick girth of his pulsing manhood, making him groan harder and deeper as each inch of him got stroked and wrapped. 

He surged into me, his hands gripping and grasping at my ass, pulling me to him as he pushed into me as deep as he could.  I wrapped my legs around him, digging my nails into his shoulders as he thrust himself into me.  He was licking and sucking at my neck when I splayed my hands through his hair, messing it up.  I bit his ear.

The feel of his rock hard ass pumping away made my legs cinch around him all the tighter.  I reached down between us and fingered his balls, which made Dean jerk as he thrust into me.

“Better watch that,” he panted as I juggled his beefy testicles.  “You’re going to make me come before I’m ready.  And I have a hell of a lot of plans for tonight.”

I purred as I let go of him and leaned back, my hands clasping now about his neck.  “I’m all yours.”     

*****

Dean woke me up the next morning with a kiss -- he’d brushed his teeth, cheater! -- and a steaming cup of black coffee, just like I take it.  And he was dressed!  Which thwarted my plan of seducing him before I had to get ready for work.   He kissed me again, sitting on the bed beside me, pulling my naked body to him as he lavished me with a seriously intoxicating lip-lock.

But he was all tease as he pulled away and backed out the door to my room, not taking his eyes from me until the very last moment.

I stretched my arms out and luxuriated in my new six hundred count sheets.  Dean popped his head back in, “By the way, those are some great sheets.”

I raised my eyebrows and smiled at him.  His eyes flickered with heat and lust, but he shook it off and left again.

I rolled over and looked at my alarm clock. I had another hour before I absolutely had to get up and get showered.  So I lazily set my clock and dosed back to sleep.

*****

I had a chilled, sweating bottle of Evian in my hand.  I went to the window to water Ozzie and Harriet ... but they were gone.  Not their pots, just the plants -- what was left inside the pots was a pit in the soil where they had been.  On the floor there was clumps of dirt that led me to the bathroom, and there not a foot away from the toilet bowl were the brown withered corpses of Ozzie and Harriet.  They had died trying to make it to the restoring oasis waters of my toilet bowl, yet failed, their dried-up, shriveled fronds touching, symbolically holding hands as they croaked.

I sat up bolt upright in the bed.  Oh my god, I’ve killed them!

I ran naked out into my living room to find the window bare, of Ozzie and Harriet and their pots.  I stood there shaking my head, my head still fogged by sleep.  Then it hit me, they were being tended to at Gus’

Duh!

Suddenly I noticed there was a man with a pair of binoculars staring at me from the window across the street.  At first I didn’t realize I was standing tits to the wind, but as he pressed closer to his window, fingers fiddling with the controls to get a better look, it hit me.  I flung myself against the wall to the right of the window.  If I ran to my bedroom the peeping Tom would get a great view of my ass!  And I would be damned if he was going to get that image to go with the front view he already had!

I looked around me.  There was a doily on the table with the lamp on it.  There was a wool hat under a chair.  Then I saw my salvation lying in front of the chair: a throw rug.

I scooped it off the floor and wrapped it around myself, holding it closed around me with one hand and testing where it came down to -- luckily covering my ass fully.  I walked out into the swath of sun light the window created, turned around and flicked the still peeping Tom off, then sashayed back to my bedroom.

From now on I’d have to remember about the sick-o across the street.  As I padded into my bedroom I wondered if there was another peeping Tom for the back of the apartment.  That gave me the alarming thought, What if there’s a peeping Tom poised with binoculars across the street from every window in town?

I wore the throw rug all the way over to my closet where I picked out a green pair of scrubs, to my chest of drawers to retrieve panties and a bra, and then to my bathroom to take a hasty shower.  I needed to pick up Ozzie and Harriet from Gus’ before work.  I wasn’t sure he’d even be open after work.

*****

Twenty minutes later I was in luck.  Gus’s had its open sign in the window.  I traipsed in, distracted, not paying attention to what was around me.  When my eyes looked up from the enormous soft pretzels I’d bought on the corner for me and Gus -- a thank you for helping me back to my apartment two days before, I found myself looking at the two nicest pairs of bare shoulders I’d seen in a while.  Gus was wearing a green tank top and a backwards ball cap.

I kind of liked the change in wardrobe.  Maybe he had decided to start advertising for a boyfriend.  I cleared my throat to let him know I was there.  But when he turned around I got a hell of a shock. 

He was a woman.

The same height as Gus, same build -- except for the two admirably large breasts that loomed braless through the worn fabric of the tank top.  She even looked like Gus in a way.

“Can I help you?”  Her voice was silvery and sweet, not matching her rather beefy physique.

“I-I was ... I’m looking for Gus.”

“Gus not here.”  His expression impassive.  “I’m his sister.  What can I help you with?”

“Is he out?”  I asked, looking around nervously.

“That’s what I said.  Now what do you want?”  Her tone bit into me as she placed her hands on her hips, glowering at me.

“Um ... I’m Lucy, and Gus was doctoring a couple of my plants for me.  I don’t see them out here.”

Her glower faded to disinterest.  “A violet and a spider plant?”

“Yes, that’s them.”

She motioned for me to follow her into the back.  “I’m Gina, by the way.  Gus set them under some hydroponics lamps,   that and good water usually fixes any problem.”

When we turned the corner there sat Ozzie and Harriet ... but they were a good inch or taller, and every frond was thicker and a brilliant green. “They look great.”