chapter Fourteen
GIVE ME ALL YOUR LOVIN’
DRAKE cast Josie Lynn an almost confused look over his shoulder, but then nodded. “Oh right. Sure.”
He paused at the first door, gently placing a hand on the doorknob. He hesitated for a second, then whipped it open and flipped the wall switch. The room illuminated to reveal a roomful of guitars and other music equipment, but no signs of anyone.
“Everything looks fine here,” he said, and Josie Lynn immediately pressed a finger to her lips. If anyone was there, they probably already knew someone had entered the apartment, but she didn’t want Drake to make it so easy for the intruder to know exactly where they were.
He looked puzzled for a moment, then whispered, “Right. Better to keep it down.”
Exactly, she thought. Why wasn’t he worried?
He went to the next door, this one open but dark. He reached around to the light switch. The light turned on and revealed a white-tiled bathroom. Drake stepped inside, glanced around, then shook his head.
“The shower,” Josie Lynn mouthed, pointing to the closed shower curtain.
He made an oh right sort of expression and took a quiet step toward the curtain, covered with different depictions of Elvis Presley. Elvis through the decades, apropos for Chers through the decades to hide behind, Josie Lynn thought.
Again, she noticed he didn’t hesitate to rip back the curtain, as if he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt there was no one hiding in the tub. And he was right. Aside from several bottles of shampoo and conditioner, a bar of soap, and a razor, the shower was empty.
She stepped back from the bathroom door to let him out. She didn’t even look over her shoulder. He seemed so certain the place was empty that she was starting to think she might be overreacting, too.
But as if to appease her, he moved past her to the next door. He turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, but before he could even reach for the light switch, something swooped out of the room.
The only impression Josie Lynn got was the shadowy image of something flying close to her head and the whoosh of wings.
“What the hell?” Drake said, voicing her very own thought.
But she didn’t stop to answer. Instead she grabbed his arm and tugged him into the dark room, slamming the door behind them. She fell back against the door and pulled him back against her, using both of their bodies to block the door.
They stood still, only their breathing audible in the blackness of the room.
“What—what was that?” she finally whispered after a few moments.
Drake didn’t answer right away, then he muttered as if with dawning realization. “Saxon.”
“Saxon?” What on earth was he talking about? That was a bird or some other flying creature. She shivered. God, she hated things that flew.
“I—I mean that was probably Saxon’s pet,” Drake said, although even without being able to see his expression, she didn’t quite believe his explanation.
“Saxon’s pet? What is it? And why would it be at your apartment?”
“He must have left it here because of the wedding.”
Okay, not sure why he’d do that, but whatever.
“What the heck is it?”
“A—a bat.”
* * *
WHY THE HELL had he told her that? Drake mentally kicked himself. Who had a pet bat?
“Who has a pet bat?” she asked, obviously coming to the very same conclusion.
“The same guy who has a pet alligator,” Drake said, rather proud of that quick connection.
“Oh.”
She seemed to buy it, even though it wasn’t the truth. He suspected whatever had flown past them was actually Saxon. This happened the last time they’d all blacked out due to being drugged.
The last time they’d all blacked out due to being drugged. Wow, who really got to say that twice in a lifetime? Even as long as all of his friends had all lived, it still seemed like a weird thing to say. But last time, Stella had been the one who got stuck in bat form. This time he was willing to bet it was Saxon. That would explain why he’d gone missing on his wedding night.
Josie Lynn shivered, her whole body vibrating against his. The subtle movement was enough to make him groan.
“Are you okay?” he murmured, moving his face closer to hers. He could feel the warmth of her breath and the sweet scent of the wine she’d drank on her lips.
“I’m—I’m fine.” But she shuddered again.
He could now smell her arousal and he couldn’t stop himself. His hands found her hips and pulled her even closer. She gasped, and for just the briefest moment, he thought she was going to surrender and allow her body to stay pressed tightly to his. That she might even kiss him. Or let him kiss her.
But instead, she pushed at his chest with a strength that surprised him, although he wasn’t sure why. She was a tough cookie. He knew that.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to ignore his disappointment, because he knew she wasn’t telling the truth about being okay. He could smell fear on her, too, though that was harder to focus on than her desire.
He moved away from her, even though he really didn’t want to, and flipped on the light. They both blinked as their eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.
She remained against the door, her back tight against it and her arms crossed around her, like she was cold. Or truly freaked-out.
“What’s wrong?” he repeated.
She still didn’t answer for a moment, though he could also see that she was notably pale. She was really shaken, although in what he’d already learned was Josie Lynn fashion, she was trying to hide it.
“I hate things with wings, okay? Birds, bats, big flying bugs.” She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, but her expression clearly stated she hated admitting that fear.
Any fear, he suspected.
“Well, we all have things that freak us out.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “And what freaks you out?”
He didn’t even have to hesitate. “I hate enclosed spaces. And being constrained in any way.”
She dropped her arms, immediately distracted from her fears by the admission of his. “Really?”
He nodded.
“But you seemed okay with being in that sex swing thing earlier.”
“I was faking. I was absolutely freaking out.”
“Good acting,” she said, sounding truly impressed.
“Thanks.”
Since they were talking candidly, he decided to keep the confessional going.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Some of her reserve returned, and she crossed her arms back over her chest. Always protecting herself. Always acting strong. Even when she was unnerved—like right now.
She nodded, even though he knew she didn’t really want to answer any questions.
“Why did you kiss me at The Dungeon?”
“To irritate Obsidian,” she said in a way that stated that she clearly hoped that was answer enough and this would be the end of Twenty Questions.
Too bad. She wasn’t going to be that lucky.
“You were affected by our kiss. I could feel it. And you already know I’m very, very attracted to you.”
He expected her to deny his claim, but instead she just nodded. “I am attracted to you.”
Shit, that wasn’t even an enthusiastic admission and he was as hard as tempered steel.
“You confuse me,” he admitted. “One minute, I feel like we are actually communicating, and you’re almost comfortable with me. Then the next you shut down and are distant.”
She gave him a helpless look, like she had no idea what he wanted her to say.
“For example, why did you seem fine with my being protective of you when that creepy Donald was talking to us at Madame Renee’s, yet when I stepped in with that drunken jerk on Bourbon, you were angry with me?”
She looked away from him, and for a moment, he just assumed she would tell him she didn’t know. Or that she didn’t need to explain herself, but then her vivid blue eyes found his.
“Because I liked you protecting me too much.”
He hadn’t expected that.
“Why? I wanted to protect you. I like protecting you.” He liked it a lot. Probably he liked it too much, if truth be told, especially given she was a woman he barely knew. And human to boot.
“Because I find it’s just a lot better if I take care of myself.”
Suddenly he realized why she could go from soft and aroused to prickly in seconds flat.
She’d been hurt. Badly hurt from the looks of it. She didn’t trust him—or any man, he was willing to bet.
Why hadn’t he realized that earlier? Wasn’t that why he tended to keep himself distant from women and relationships, too?
“I can understand that,” he said softly. “Believe me, I can. But we all need help sometimes. And we all have to trust someone once in a while, too, even if it’s hard.”
She laughed then, the sound hard and bitter. “That’s kind of rich coming from you. You are telling me to trust you, but you think I’m a thief and a liar.”
Drake could easily understand her incredulity with him. He stepped closer to her, but left a few inches of space between them, not wanting her to feel cornered. That was the last thing a woman who didn’t trust men—or maybe anyone—needed.
“I stopped thinking you were involved in the drugging and robbery basically before we even left Zelda and Saxon’s.”
“Why’s that?” she said, her tone no softer, no less filled with sarcastic mistrust.
“Because you could have run at any point tonight. Hell, you could have darted and left me to fight a gator if you wanted, but you didn’t. I know you want answers just as much as I do.”
She stared at him for a moment, and then her arms dropped back to her sides. Her guard was coming down a little, but she clearly didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t want her to say any more. He just wanted to touch her. Reassure her that she could trust him. He wanted to continue to protect her. He wanted to make love to her.
He shifted closer, and her eyes met his. Again, he expected to see caution and doubt in her eyes, but instead he saw something almost like tentative hope in her unblinking gaze.
He risked moving closer still and slowly reached out to touch her cheek.
“I know you still don’t trust me, but I honestly don’t want to hurt you. I’m going to be totally honest with you. I really want to kiss you.”
She managed to surprise him again. “I really want to kiss you, too.”
* * *
JOSIE LYNN COULDN’T believe she had told him that, or that she was leaning in to meet his lips. A part of her kept repeating this was a terrible, terrible idea and she was bound to get hurt. But another part, which at the moment was being much louder and making much more sense, kept telling her to take a risk, go with it, enjoy this moment.
She liked the second voice’s advice better.
And when Drake’s lips captured her, she liked it even more. Damn, this man could kiss.
His mouth molded to hers like it had been made just for her. She couldn’t remember a kiss quite like his, so perfect, so earth-shattering, so . . .
Dangerous, the party-pooper voice stated.
Then Drake’s tongue slipped over her lips, tasting her. Then deeper. Then she didn’t care if this was dangerous, she just wanted the moment to continue. Her tongue found his, and he moaned, pinning her against the door. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her tightly against him, his muscular body hard and heavy and delicious against hers. Her arms looped around his neck and she could feel the brush of his hair against her fingers.
“Damn, you make me crazy,” he murmured against her lips.
Crazy, that was exactly what this was. But she didn’t want to stop, and clearly, neither did he as his hand slid down her hip to hike up the hem of his shirt. His fingers, rough from playing guitar, she supposed, stroked over her bare upper thigh. The sensation was thrilling, those roughened fingertips strong and masculine, just like the rest of him.
“I want to go slow,” he whispered, but even in her haze of desire, she knew want was the operative word. Slow wasn’t going to happen for either of them. It was as if they’d finally admitted this enormous attraction and nothing was going to stop them from being together. Not even the luxury of exploring each other’s bodies. They’d take the luxury next time.
Next time. Was she even sure there would be a next time?
Stop thinking, the lust-driven side of her brain told her. Just feel. Just fuck.
Drake’s brain seemed to be telling him the same thing, because his hand slipped between her thighs, nudging her tiny lace panties aside to rub the already-wet flesh underneath. She gasped, arching against him. He growled, finding her swollen clit, circling it with his thumb as a finger slid inside her. Then another finger.
She dug her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders, angling her hips upward to afford him better access, deeper access.
“You are so hot and wet. I have to taste you,” he said, his already-raspy voice a low rumble. She made a dismayed noise as his fingers left her throbbing sex.
He smiled at the sound, that naughty grin of his making her ache even more.
“Don’t worry, love, I’ll be right back down there. Believe me.”
His talented fingers then moved to the buttons of his shirt, flicking each one open until he reached the belt she wore. It only took him moments for that to hit the floor with a muffled thud. Then he parted the shirt, exposing her to his hungry eyes.
Josie Lynn was not a thin girl. She had full, heavy breasts, a slight curve to her belly, and flared hips. And Drake looked like he wanted to gobble up every part of her.
“You are absolutely perfect,” he said, his voice, husky and worshipping.
God, she loved the look in his dark, intense eyes. She felt perfect.
He ducked his head, capturing one of her rosy nipples between his lips. He sucked and swirled his tongue around it, until again she was arching her back, demanding more. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
But he still managed to shift away to lavish attention on her other breast as his hand returned to stroke between her thighs. She cried out as her orgasm hit her, sudden and fierce like a wild summer thunderstorm. Powerful, electric. She sagged against the door, weak from the intensity of it. But Drake wasn’t about to allow her respite.
She watched in a daze of ecstasy as he slowly dropped to his knees. She registered the creak of Zelda’s plastic pants as he did so. At another time that might have made her laugh, but right now, all she could think about was that his face was level with her wet *.
He leaned close and breathed in as if he was savoring the scent of her juices, the action so erotic that even with her forceful release, she was instantly aroused again.
He smiled up at her as if he could instantly tell when she became ready for him again.
Then, his eyes still locked with hers, he leaned in and ran the tip of his tongue up the slit of her moist, swollen lips. Josie Lynn made a noise deep in her throat. Nothing had ever been so sensual, so utterly sexy as watching him taste her like that. He did it again, penetrating her lips deeper and again deeper still until he found her aching clit. Then all attention remained there.
Again she sank her hands into his hair, this time to steady herself, really to support herself, because her legs felt like Jell-O. He lapped and sucked until she came. Then came again.
“Oh God,” she moaned mindlessly, pinned to the door with his weight against her legs and his mouth between her thighs.
“Please,” she begged, not totally sure what she was begging for. He was already giving her more pleasure than she’d even thought possible. Yet she continued to beg. “Please.”
But he seemed to understand what she wanted, even if she didn’t, because after one final parting lick over her, he rose.
She watched again, helpless to do anything else as he stripped off his T-shirt to reveal his muscled chest smattered with just enough dark hair to make him look ridiculously manly. Then he shucked off the turquoise pants, kicking them aside.
Josie Lynn had already seen his cock, although she hadn’t allowed herself the chance to truly admire it. Now she did. He was large and thick, jutting up against his lower belly.
Even as spent as she should have been, she wanted that inside her. She wanted him to stretch and fill her.
He smiled again as if he had this amazing ability to read her thoughts. He caught one of her legs, lifting it up around his hips so he could situate himself between her thighs again. This time with his body. Then he caught her other leg and picked her up.
She gasped, startled by the action and his strength. She was petite, but not light, yet he didn’t even seem to be straining to hold her. Then he angled their hips until she could feel the head of his penis entering her.
Slowly, oh so slowly, he eased her down onto his full, hard length. Her body struggled to accommodate him, but even that was a delicious fight. Finally he was buried deep inside her and she nearly came again just from that feeling of having this gorgeous man a part of her. Filling her so completely.
He didn’t move right away, letting her grow comfortable with his girth, but then he began to lift her up and down, the unhurried friction exquisite.
“That’s it,” he soothed, “just ride me. I want to feel you tight and hot and wet all around me.”
She was helpless to do anything other than what he wanted. And she wanted it, too.
His movements became more rapid, his thrusts deeper, and soon she was crying out again. But this orgasm was the most intense of all, because Drake came at the same time, shouting out his release.
She curled around him, her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck, her legs around his back. And she felt totally safe, totally relaxed in his strong hold. She didn’t even realize they’d moved until he eased her off himself and onto the bed.
He followed her down, but then rolled them both so she was on top, straddling him.
He looked up at her, those intense eyes of his seeming to look deep inside her, trying to understand everything about her. No man had ever looked at her that way. Like she was the most fascinating thing in the world.
She felt her heart thump in her chest and knew she could so easily get into trouble with this man. But she didn’t care. Not right now anyway. Not with him looking at her like that.
She didn’t feel any insecurities sitting above him, exposed to him, her breasts still heavy and her nipples taut from their lovemaking. She’d always been shy about her size, her build, but with him, she simply felt sexy. Desirable in every way.
He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek, the touch so tender, her breath caught.
“Why don’t you trust men?” he asked, his voice raspy and soft at the same time.
She knew she shouldn’t tell him. It was too soon to open herself up that way, but she found herself looking into those eyes of his, so dark brown they were almost black, and answering.
“I was recently involved with a man who told me he loved me. Told me he wanted us to build a life together. To get married. Then he made off with all the money I’d saved waitressing and bartending to start my catering company, which meant I had to take a loan I really can’t afford to get things up and running. And believe it or not, he isn’t the worst guy I’ve dated.” She smiled self-deprecatingly.
“Wow,” Drake said, stroking a hand down her shoulder and arm. “I can see why you’d be a little wary of guys.”
She nodded. “What about you? Why the fear of confined spaces? Of being restrained?”
Drake’s hand stilled on her arm.
“You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”
His fingertips, so much like his voice, both raspy and gentle, began to caress her skin again. “I, too, was involved in a few very bad relationships. Of course, several of them I brought on myself. But one—let’s just say Obsidian probably couldn’t hold a candle to her. Pain was very much her pleasure.”
Josie Lynn studied him, trying to imagine what he was implying. Had this strong, virile man been abused by a woman? Physically abused? The idea stunned and disturbed her.
“You must have loved her very much to tolerate something you didn’t like that way.”
That was the only reason she could think of as to why he’d allow any woman to apparently torture him.
He sighed. “Well, that was long ago, Cupcake.” He instantly made a face. “Sorry, I know you hate when I call you that.”
She smiled slightly, then leaned forward, her lips just millimeters from his. Her full breasts pressed against his hard chest. “Want to know a little secret?”
“Yes,” his response was a breathy growl.
“I actually like it. A lot.”
She kissed him.
* * *
DRAKE GROANED, LOVING her sweet lips and the weight of her full, round breasts flattened against him.
Goddamn, she was the sexiest woman he could remember ever being with. Every single thing drove him mad. Her sky-blue eyes. Her sassy smile. Those amazing breasts that he wanted to kiss and suck some more. The taste of her—everywhere, which he also wanted some more of. Her ass, her legs, but most of all, her strength and determination.
Josie Lynn was no pampered woman like those he’d dallied with when he was human. Spoiled and coddled. Nor was she like the vindictive, cruel bitch who’d made him a vampire. Giselle’s strength had come from being a vampire and it had made her a bully. She was determined, but only to torture and torment others. And he’d been her focus for a long time. But that was decades ago. And now he was lying with a sweet, giving, voluptuous woman who he knew was strong and determined because she had to be. And he wanted to help her. To take away some of that need to be so strong. He got the feeling she could use someone else to shoulder a little of her burden.
As she continued to kiss him, her lips soft and teasing, her tongue hot and wet, his cock reacted, prodding at the juncture of her spread thighs.
She lifted her head, giving him a surprised smile. “Again? Already?”
He smiled back, too. “I could make love to you all night.”
She ground her hips against him, rubbing his erection against her damp, soft core.
“I can feel that.”
She stroked against him again.
He moaned and so did she.
“Cupcake, I can go all night, but what about you? Are you sore?”
She shook her head. “I’m Cajun, baby.”
He didn’t know what that meant, but it made him chuckle, and his chuckle turned to another long moan as she slid his full length deep inside her.
Then she started to ride him, her hands on his chest, her thigh squeezing his hips, her vagina massaging him like she’d been made only for him.
“Damn,” he muttered, amazed at how she felt.
She pivoted her hips up and down, stroking his length, her gorgeous breasts bobbing with each bounce. Holy shit.
Then she stopped.
“Do you hear that?”
He frowned, dazed and disappointed she’d stopped riding him. “Hear what?”
Then he heard it, the muffled, distant sound of someone singing. How had he not heard that while she had? He was a vampire, his hearing was, well, supernatural, yet he’d been so wrapped up in enjoying Josie Lynn that he hadn’t been aware of anything else. She was like his kryptonite.
“Do you hear it?” she asked again, her hand still braced on his chest, her head tilted as she listened.
Again, singing filtered in from the other room. But it was strange, almost mechanical sounding. But gradually he recognized the song.
“Is someone singing Barry White?” Josie Lynn asked, giving him a bemused look.
He nodded. “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Babe.”
“That’s what I thought. Is it coming from inside the apartment?”
It was, but he didn’t want to startle her. “I’m not sure.” Then he heard something else besides the weird, dissonant singing. He heard footsteps coming down the hallway even though they were nearly silent.
Someone was coming.
He quickly pulled Josie Lynn down against him and then snagged the edge of the comforter, tugging it over them just as the door opened. Josie Lynn made a startled noise, but kept her face buried against his neck.
“I knew it,” Cort said. “When the stupid parrot starts singing Barry White, I know exactly what it means.”
“Hey,” Drake said trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”
Cort gave him a pointed look. “The question is what’s up with you? And why are you up to it in my and Katie’s bed?
“Would you believe things just—sort of happened?” Drake asked.
“Absolutely,” Cort said.
“Whoa,” Wyatt said, popping his head in the doorway over Cort’s shoulder. “Looks like you’ve been busy. Clearly not finding Saxon, but busy.”
Josie Lynn made a small noise and buried her face deeper into the curve of his neck and shoulder.
“You know what guys, why don’t you give me a minute here,” Drake said, tightening his arms around Josie Lynn in a silent effort to comfort her. She pressed even tighter against him as if she wanted to just disappear into his body. Unfortunately, the more embarrassed she got, and the tighter she pressed against him and her muscles strained, the more turned-on he got. He was still buried deep inside her, and it was taking every inch of his willpower to hold his hips still. But damn, he wanted to be pumping in and out of her soft body.
“Oh right,” Cort said, turning to leave, shooing Wyatt as he went.
The door clicked shut, and Drake hugged Josie Lynn again. “It’s okay. They’re gone.”
She lifted her head out from under the blanket and groaned with embarrassment. “I can’t believe they walked in on us.”
“Well, we are in Cort and Katie’s room,” he pointed out. “Which technically isn’t our fault. We were sort of trapped here by the bird.”
She sat up more, bracing her hands on either side of his head, her beautiful breasts so close to his lips. “That was a bird? I thought you said it was a bat.”
“Well, apparently it was a bird. A real asshole of a parrot,” he explained almost absently, his attention on her nipples, which were so pink and deliciously puckered.
“Is the parrot Saxon’s too?”
He shook his head, then caught one of her nipples in his mouth, unable to stop himself.
Josie Lynn gasped and arched her back, pressing her nipple tighter to his lips.
“Sh—shouldn’t we stop? This isn’t your room.”
“We’re already here,” he said, tracing his tongue around her distended nipple. “And Cort already knows we’re here. So . . .”
He drew her nipple deeper into his mouth.
She made a whimpering noise and began to move her hips.
“You are so evil,” she breathed, bobbing up and down on him, taking him hard and deep.
He smiled, even as his own breathing came in short, pleased gasps. “Not evil at all. I just know what I want. And I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”
Her motion slowed, and her blue eyes held his, and he could tell instantly even through his own ecstasy, she was trying to gauge if she could trust his words.
He curled a hand around the back of her head and drew her head down to his, kissing her deeply, passionately.
“Trust me,” he said against her lips, then kissed her again. “Please trust me.”
She rose up again, then nodded, just the slight movement of her head, but he knew she meant the tentative agreement, and his heart seemed to swell in his chest.
He caught her hips and increased their speed until both of them were crying out their climax. She fell limply onto him, her body so soft and warm and his.
Drake Hanover hadn’t felt this way about a woman in centuries, and he didn’t plan to let her go. She’d learn to trust him. She’d fall for him like he was already falling for her.