Waiting in the Wings (Soulgirls) (4 page)

Gliding a hand along her back, he lifted her up and bent his head to capture the nipple, sucking it between his teeth, careful to not graze her skin. It pebbled and hardened under the thrum of his tongue. In response, she dug her nails into his scalp, little daggers of pain. He bit her, lightly enough to avoid damaging her skin, but hard enough to remind her to loosen her grip.

Her fingers relaxed, and he flipped her over. The lace panties were scraps with one hard tug. In his dreams, he tumbled her over, ripping her clothes off and driving his cock into the tight clasp of her sex, thrusting until all she could feel was him. He’d imagined her shallow breaths driving him deeper until she shuddered with release.

So many years of aching to have her back in his arms—to feel her move with him, to drown in her passion. He skimmed his fingers up the inside of her thigh, prolonging his torture until he slid a finger along the seam of her sex.

She was soaking wet.

For him.

Need punctured rational thought. He wanted to awaken her memories, to bring back his bride, to see the recognition flame in her eyes as she held him—but the naked desire sparkling in them and the sweet heat of her body responding to him was his undoing.

He surged up and slanted his mouth over hers, crushing their lips together. She tasted so sweet and utterly feminine. Intoxicated by her scent, her reactions and her touch, he let go of anything beyond that moment. Her stiff nipples poked at his chest. He touched her everywhere. His hands glided over her sides, her breasts, her hips, her back and down to her ass. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he ground his erection against her cleft.

His control warned him this was a mistake. But was he really taking advantage? She felt so good—so right—in his arms.

“I want you,” she growled against his mouth, demanding and impatient. Her nails scored down his back, and she tugged at his pants. “I want you inside me…”

The word fueled the fire burning through his blood, igniting every nerve. Arousal punched him, and he skimmed a hand down to glide a finger against her slick sex, pressing in against the tight walls that clasped his fingers. She rode his finger, gasping when he added a second. Her fingers fumbled with his belt, and he growled, jerking back to rip the pants open and slip them off.

She tried to follow him, but he caught her and tossed her back down, holding her with one arm, while he dipped his head down to follow the trail of his fingers. Her moans were music to his ears as he nuzzled his way to her clit, sucking it against his teeth. She cried out, and her thighs clasped at his head. He soothed her legs wider and, lapping at the damp desire pouring from her, eased another finger into her.

Wanton desire clouded his vision. He drove her ruthlessly to the edge, withdrawing his fingers and tongue only when he sensed her on the precipice. Her scream of frustration echoed in his ears, and he began the slow assault all over again.

She writhed, twisted and rolled onto her side. He shifted to follow her sex, spearing his tongue against the hot, velvety walls that tried to clamp down on his invasion. He didn’t realize why she adjusted her position until her mouth closed over him, her lips crowning the head of his cock. He shuddered and gasped, losing the thread of his rhythm as she worked her magic. She sucked hard and fast, her teeth grazing him adding the lightest amount of pain to spark the pleasure. Her tongue swirled around him, and he could barely kiss the inside of her thighs, mouth opening to bite down on the tender flesh.

Enough.

He threaded his fingers into her hair and urged her back. She looked up at him, eyes slit with passion. He climbed up the length of her, until they were face-to-face and nestled himself into the cradle of her body, her nipples peaked and tight, flushed with need. Her hand wrapped around his cock and guided him to her entrance. He pressed in slowly, savoring every stretch of her wet folds.

The tight clasp of her inner muscles threatened pure madness. He wanted to be inside—all the way, one hard push—but the pleasure on her face told him to take his time. A low whimper escaped her throat as he finally settled deep inside of her. So hot. So tight.

They fell into a rhythm, rocking together. He wanted to stay like this forever. Their lips collided in a series of nipping, licking kisses. Her hands were everywhere, digging into his shoulders, stroking his back, and when she clasped his ass, he didn’t know how much longer he could last.

He wanted to see her pleasure—needed to see it—ripple over her face. He wanted to savor her bliss before taking his own. He worked a hand between them, flicking his fingers against her clit. She shivered and jerked, her hips almost losing their rhythm. He rocked into her. Hooking one of her legs over his arm, he scented and felt her release as her inner muscles clamped down on him.

She came with a scream, and he growled in savage satisfaction. Dropping his head to her throat, he sank his teeth into her skin and ecstasy tore through him. He thrust once, twice more, and his body clenched. His release flooded out of him as her blood filled his mouth. His soul sang with joy and he collapsed against her, even as his mind winked out.

Chapter Three

Kiki emerged from the shroud of bliss slowly. The events of the last couple of hours rushed in, echoing through the pleasant soreness tingling throughout her body. Richard’s weight pressed her into the bed. He slept on his stomach, his face buried in the pillows. At some point, he must have dragged the covers over them. She didn’t remember. Sliding out from under his arm, she slipped off the bed and looked around the opulent bedroom for her clothes. Her panties were in tatters, so she dropped them into the trash.

Her bra wasn’t in much better shape. She held up the frayed lace and grinned. The vampire had turned out to be an absolute beast in the bed. Dropping the bra after the panties, she shimmied into the dress and tiptoed into the bathroom. Turning on the water, she splashed her face and inspected her appearance in the mirror. Her lips were swollen and red from his kisses. Two faint puncture marks marred her throat.

Thrill skated up from her belly.
A real vampire.
She’d had sex with a real vampire, and he bit her. She just might swoon. She ran her fingers through her tousled hair and grinned. The romp definitely took the edge off her restlessness. Now she could concentrate on Heidi’s “you’re dancing lead” news. Regret fluttering in her belly, she padded back into the bedroom and stared at the sleeping vampire with his thick shock of black hair, square jaw and absolutely delicious body.

But one look at the clock stymied the desire creeping over her. It had been a lot longer than two hours.

Closer to eight.

Panic flared.

When is sunrise?

Spinning on a heel, she darted for the door and pulled it open as silently as she could. Speeding through the unfamiliar apartment, she found her shoes near the door. She vaguely remembered tugging the boots off to dance around on the furniture. Heat suffused her skin. The reckless abandon allowed her to accompany a total stranger—three total strangers—to a private apartment, and the reality of it all sobered her mood.

She opened the front door a crack when a hard masculine arm slammed it shut. Richard spun her around and pressed her right up against the door. Gloriously nude and rumpled from sleep, his mouth fused with hers and stifled her objections. Releasing her lips, he leaned his forehead to hers. “Where are you going?”

Even his voice, husky and deep from sleep, sent shivers racing up her spine.

“I have to go.” She sighed. “Places to see, people to be.”

He drifted closer, the musky scent of him wrapping around her. He nuzzled her cheek and feathered kisses along her ear. “You don’t have to go anywhere…”

She stopped his sensual assault with a hand flat against his chest. “Look, sexy beast, this was fun, and those orgasms were amazing. But I have to go now.”

His expression darkened. “Kristina…”

“Richard?” She lifted her eyebrows, challenging.

“We have much to discuss. You need to stay here.” Command flowed through his tone and stroked against her.

Trailing her fingers down his chest, she admired the cut of his muscles even if he was paler than the guys she might normally tease. Her sex clenched, but her internal clock ticking down warned her against giving in. “I appreciate the offer, beastie boy, I really do. But I have a show tonight…” Inspiration struck and she gave him a little shove backwards. “Midnight Mystery Lounge—come watch me. Maybe we’ll party again after.”

He let her move him, but when she tried to open the door, he pulled her back around. “No. No more shows. No more performances. It’s time for you to come home.” The demand scorched her—urged her to obey—and she shoved again. Only this time he didn’t move.

“Yeah, okay. Look—you’re great in bed. Loved the sex. Had a blast. Even enjoyed the bite. But stop being a douche. You
don’t
own me.” Twisting beneath his arm, she hooked her leg behind his and pushed. But he snaked an arm around her waist and instead of toppling, he had her back up against the door.

“Kristina, look at me.” His gaze pinned her. His pupils dilated. The room faded away, elongating behind him as though the world retreated in a rush. His eyes filled her vision, his heart thundered in her ears and his scent filled her nostrils. “Remember.” The word, heavy with so much meaning, pushed at her and the world snapped, like a rubber band stretched too far. The recoil stung and Kiki did the only thing she could think to do.

She drove her fist into his solar plexus. She aimed lower, but he dodged. Breaking from the trance, she wrenched the door open and marched over to the elevator. Goon One and Goon Two straightened as she exited. She punched the button to summon the elevator. Awareness blanketed her.

Richard stood at her back.

“Don’t.” She ordered. She could barely make out his reflection in the golden doors, but his hand hovered at her shoulder.

“Kristina…”

The doors opened and she stepped inside, pivoting to face him. “My name is Kiki. Thanks for the fun—and the creepy look into my eyes shtick. I enjoyed it.”

She winked and hit the down button. Richard stared at her, brows drawn together in a scowl so fierce relief flooded her when the doors closed him out. She sagged back against the wall, heart pounding. Bravado was all well and good, but she had a feeling she just poked that sexy beast a little too hard.

Rubbing her fingers against her lips, lightheadedness surged through her. She flicked a look to the controls. The elevator’s descent seemed to be taking forever. The languid heat from their lovemaking receded. Sunrise was close.

Too close.

“Hurry.” She whispered. She couldn’t afford to be caught in the open. “C’mon…” Her foot tapped and as soon as the doors opened, she rushed out.

The normal throngs of people and creatures were absent from the lobby. She cut across the sphinx’s path and circled the fountain. Stan leaned against the entrance to the theatre and her heart sank.

He just stared at her.

“I am not even going to try and explain.” She gave him a tired grin. Her cheeks ached, and it took effort to smile. Lethargy pumped through her blood. The sun’s ascent sped the day’s arrival.

“Good.” Expressionless, he nodded, but made no move to get out of her way. Kiki cut her gaze to the left. Sound muted, like a dozen cotton balls being stuffed into her ears.

“Stan…”

The guardian merely looked at her. His folded arms, firm stance and cold eyes denied her.

“I have to get inside.” She looked left again. Sunlight glittered like red fire on the horizon. Liquid gold spilled upwards behind the building…and splashed against the front windows, stretching out like greedy fingers across the marble floor.

Fear stabbed her in the belly.

“Stan…”

The guardian didn’t move. “You escaped the safety of the theatre. We cannot be held responsible for what happens next.”

The elevator doors dinged across the lobby. She twisted to look back…
no, no no…not like this.
She didn’t want Richard to see her. He couldn’t see her when this happened. Wrenching around, she begged Stan with her eyes. “Please…”

The sun inched closer, and icy heat swarmed over her. Her heart slowed, her hands clenched. Richard appeared in her periphery, his dark slacks open at the waist and his dark expression tight.

“Don’t look at me.” She ordered him. “Look away.” But the words garbled, mashing together with the slowness of her tongue. Denied entrance, she would die on this spot when the sun touched her. Frozen, she could only stand there and wait her inevitable end. At least she got to have sex—really, freaking amazing sex—before it ended. A tiny sigh escaped. She would like to have danced the lead too.
But…

She closed her eyes, the lids fluttering down, desperate to not see his face when the end came and a sparkling gray curtain dropped over her, blotting out the world.

Rage and frustration drove Richard to follow her down to the lobby. It imploded, sucked into a black hole of horror. Malcolm had warned him. He had explained the curse trapping the dancers to their servitude—a curse that transformed them into a doll-like state while the sun rose. The sunlight trickling through the paned glass windows continued to inch forward toward her booted feet. Everything about her changed, except for her clothing. She looked like a mannequin.