Nightfall (21 page)

Give me that mark, Mistress. Doesn’t matter, all the
logic and arguments, my worries, your worries. You know it’s meant to be. Knew
it from the first.

She lifted her head, her lips glistening from the demands of
his. “I like everything about you except your stubbornness,” she managed.

“Bullshit,” he murmured. “If I wasn’t so bullheaded, you
wouldn’t find me half as much fun. What excuse could you use to pull out that
whip otherwise?”

“I’d think of something. I’m not above making things up.”

“Actually, I think you’re one of the most honest people I’ve
ever met. You told me you were a vampire on your job interview.” He lifted a
brow. “Kind of a weird way to hide being a vampire, if it’s such a big secret.”

“Actually I’ve found it’s the best way. People assume you’re
a bit crazy, ignore that part of you, your little ‘quirks’. It’s what you
thought at first, wasn’t it? Most people never go beyond that. Much easier than
trying to hide the need to stay inside during daylight, the paleness. Thanks to
reality TV and the Internet, it’s easier to hide what you really are in plain
sight than ever before. Everyone has seen everything and believes nothing.
Since I was human, I can play human far better than a born vampire.”

He couldn’t argue with her logic. Cognizant of looking like
they were considering a quickie in the corner, he eased her back to her chair,
grinning when she briefly tightened her thighs and arms, not letting him do it
until she was good and ready. Which gave her time to do a sexy little rotation
of her hips over his lap, confirming he was hard enough to make it embarrassing
if he had to get up and go get her another drink from the bar.

What an excellent suggestion, cowboy. I wouldn’t mind
letting these other ladies see what’s mine and mine alone. As well as our
waiter, who obviously prefers men, from how he kept batting his lashes at you.

He winced. “You’d do it too. Sadistic wench.”

When he focused on her expression, he found her gazing at
him quizzically. “A mojito, please,” she said.

“Christ.”

Yet as he left her to get her drink, he knew she was doing
more than teasing him. He was pretty sure he had her thinking about that third
mark thing. Which meant until she gave him that third mark, he was being tested
for the job.

When he went back inside, headed toward the bar, he saw what
she’d seen, the waiter eyeing him like he was fried ice cream with a cherry on
top. His gaze zeroed right in low, telling Quinn there was definitely not enough
dim light in this restaurant. The guy’s lips curved faintly. He obviously knew
that hard-on wasn’t for him, but that didn’t keep him from appreciating the
hell out of it.

Quinn knew his cheeks had to be red as a baboon’s ass as he
hit the bar and ordered the mojito and another beer. She could have waited for
the waitstaff to make another round of the outside tables, but Selene wanted to
see him wait upon her like this.

She’d said it was possible a vampire more powerful than her
might “borrow” him. Female or male. He swallowed, thinking that through.
Could
he handle that? She’d said telling him something wasn’t experiencing it, and if
she could track his thoughts, then he needed to give thinking this stuff
through a go. As she said, he couldn’t manipulate her, and he wouldn’t even
try. He wanted it to be all honest and aboveboard between them. So he would
handle this test. And the next, and every one she threw at him.

Not everything is a test, cowboy. Some things are just
your Mistress’ desire to see you obey. It arouses me, knowing you’re
embarrassed but still willing to show off what’s mine. Watching your ass flex
in those jeans makes me want to take a nice healthy bite. I may have you lie face
down on the bed tonight and draw blood right from that delectable butt cheek.
Then I’ll put my fingers up your ass, make you come as I feed off you.

Fuck.
He leaned against the bar because he figured
his profile, even with the denim, was pretty obvious.

Straighten up, cowboy.
Her voice was sharp.
Be
proud of what pleasures your Mistress.

Damn if he didn’t do it, because as the command resounded
through his head, he felt that response leap to life inside him. His response
aroused her, and hers, his, a powerful, never-ending spiral.

That was the key to it, wasn’t it? When he pictured himself
bending over, letting some guy take him up the ass, he knew no way in hell
could he do that. But when he put her in the picture…

That purring voice, those eyes so close as she drew him down
upon her on the bed, telling him to fuck her as some guy approached behind, ran
a hand down his back, parted his cheeks and… Quinn would plunge into her pussy,
and it would be all about her. He’d come because she was using him for
her
pleasure.

If it was for her, he could do it.

Admittedly, only if it was once in a while, like for
birthdays, Christmas and the annual head-vampire muckety-muck get-together. He
much preferred it being just the two of them. He really didn’t want to share or
be shared. But he really didn’t want to muck out stalls or prepare for taxes.
He didn’t like going to the dentist and having him stick his hands in his
mouth. But he did those things because they went along with the things he
really did want. A successful ranch, a job well done, a life worth living, the
good and bad all part of it.

Knowing in his gut that Selene wanted it to be just the two
of them, living their quiet life out here, would help make the distasteful
stuff even more feasible to him.

His dad had given him the sex talk, but his mom had followed
it up with the love and marriage talk.

One day you’ll want to be with a girl always, like your
father and I have done. I see your heart. Out of all your brothers, you’re the
one with the deepest wish for a forever kind of thing, even though right now it’s
boiling among all those hormones.
She’d given him an affectionate swat as
he flushed, ducked his head.

That’s normal, boy. But when you do find her, there’s
this odd thing about loving someone. Sometimes it’s more bad than good. You
have hard times together. It isn’t easy, fitting your life together with
another and making it work year after year. But I can promise you, if you’re
meant to be, you’ll figure out one good moment is stronger than ten bad ones.
Love is worth it, and if you have love, you figure out how to make things work.
Then even the bad stuff becomes part of loving someone, as much as the good.

“Here you go, boss.” The bartender broke into his thoughts,
pushing the two drinks across the bar to him.

Quinn nodded, handed over the money, then made his way back
through the crowd. The dinner crowd had died off and was being replaced by the
drinking and dancing crowd, making the noise level rowdier, the crowd bigger.
He was startled but not entirely surprised when he passed a group of girls and
one of them took the opportunity to grab his ass. Hell, big as his dick was, he
was lucky she hadn’t tried for that. He maneuvered out of her grasp, gave her a
genial look and a faint grin, the courteous body language of “Appreciate it,
honey, but not available” and took another couple steps. Then Selene was there.

Because of the crush of people, no one would have noted
she’d gotten there so quick, but he saw the occupants of a couple tables behind
her grabbing hold of their napkins as they seemed to flutter from a passing
wind for no reason. But what had him putting the drinks down on a side table
just as fast was her expression.

Those blue eyes were charged with those unnatural crimson
flickers, and God above, he could see the tips of her fangs coming out as she
got right up in the hapless half-drunk girl’s face. The vibe she was putting
off was scary enough to sober the kid right up.

“Not. Yours.” Selene hissed, her hand curling around the
edge of the table as if she might be a breath away from hurling it.

The girl’s brown eyes were wide as saucers. On a usual day,
facing something normal, she looked like the feisty sort who might have made a
smart-ass remark, started a catfight, but every animal in the world, even
human, knew when they were facing something far more dangerous than themselves.

She lifted both hands, palms up, and shrank back in the
chair. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “We were just playing.”

“Play with something else.”

Not sure if it was the best decision, Quinn slid an arm
around his Mistress’ waist, gave it a faint squeeze, a pressure to move them
toward the door.
She was just admiring your taste, Mistress. She’s young and
drunk. It’s okay. She’s just a kid.

Something shuddered through Selene. She’d mentioned
something about a marked servant being able to lend energy, and apparently a
second mark could do some of that, because he actually felt her reach into him,
dip into his calm like a well to quench thirst.

She might be his Mistress, but he also had power. To
influence, encourage, persuade her where no one else might be able to do the
same. He could use it right now, to help her in this situation. Tightening his
grip, he brushed his lips against her temple as if it was just the two of them,
no one else.

Let’s go somewhere else. My Mistress wants to fuck me,
prove I’m hers. I’m all for that.

Stiffly, Selene straightened. Taking the cue, Quinn gripped
her hand, left the drinks behind and headed for the door. He’d have told the
girls they could have the beer and mojito if they wanted them, but he thought it
best if he just focused on Selene.

Once outside, he took them toward his truck. Selene was
wooden and silent, perhaps fighting her emotions. Then she decided to turn the
aggression outward.

She didn’t push him back against the truck. She shoved him, such
that he almost had to dig his boot heels into the asphalt to keep from going
through it. As it was, he was pretty sure his ass print was going to be
permanently embedded in the door panel. But he had other things to occupy his
mind other than body work. Well, body work on the truck.

She had herself against him, leaving her high heels behind
to step on his feet, raise up and claim his mouth. He was more than willing to
match her passion, bending to make it easier on her, his arms closing over her,
both hands taking a nice handful of her ass and hiking her up his body. Her
fingers dug into his shoulders, his back, his nape, tugging on his hair as she
scored his lips with her fangs, delved deep with her tongue, stroking his. Her
need washed over him, took everything else away.

He realized he was making a noise like a soothing growl,
conveying his eager lust and confirming he was all hers.

Right here. Now.
Keeping one arm looped over his
neck, she reached down between them, tugged at his belt and slipped the top
button of his jeans, pushing the zipper down so she could reach right in
beneath his shorts, close her hot hand around his throbbing cock. She stroked
it with clever, knowledgeable fingers, had his arms tightening around her, his
hips bucking into it.

“Christ, Selene. Wait…”

“No waiting. You’ll come for your Mistress like this, any
way she wants it.”

“Let me be inside you.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair,
yanked her head back to look at him. She made that dangerous hiss at him,
showing her fangs, and he closed his mouth back over hers, growling more
aggressively this time as she bit him, tasted his blood.
I want to fuck you.
Make you scream, Mistress.

In the truck. That’s as long as I’ll wait.

He didn’t have a vampire’s speed, but he managed to get around
to the passenger side and put the two of them into that seat, the door closed
and locked, pretty damn fast. She straddled him, and he pushed his jeans out of
the way as she came down on him, rubbing the silk of her panties against his
length. Reaching beneath the short skirt, he tore the panties away, not in the
mood to be much more patient than she was. She slammed down on his cock, her
pussy already so wet there was no resistance beyond accommodating his thick
size. Her internal muscles clenched him, and as she began to rise and fall, he
wanted to taste every part of her. He tugged the strap of her dress off her
shoulder, revealing her breast cradled high and quivering in a tiny scrap of
bra that barely covered her nipple.

He slid an arm over her back, brought her down to him as her
hips pistoned. He kissed and licked his way over her generous curves, tugging
down the other side of the dress so he could play in the valley between, curl
his tongue along one lace-edged curve and find her nipple beneath, lash at it.
His cock was in seventh heaven, her slick pussy clamped like a vise over him as
she drove them purely for her own pleasure. All he wanted was to give her more.

“Come for me, Quinn,” she ordered. He caught the flash of
her eye before she lifted her chin, arched back, her own body tightening in
climactic response. “I want to feel you.”

Damn if the order alone didn’t shove him the last few steps
up that ladder and launch him off the end. His mind might still fight with the
idea of how she could overwhelm his will, but his body had no questions, the
issue resolved for all time as far as it was concerned.

He came hard, groaning and grunting like a rutting bull, and
she cried out her release in a way that twined with his, resounded through the
truck, made the noises reverberate inside the small space, become part of the
sensations vibrating through them.

Before he’d barely finished jetting that last hard shot of
seed into her, she was moving down his body, mouth and teeth tasting his chest,
the ridges of his abdomen. She was such a petite thing, she made it to the
floorboards, and when she did, she had hold of the jeans and pulled them down
to his knees, leaving him bare-assed on the seat.