So does his.
He stalks across the room as if I’m prey and not as fierce a predator as him. “Guido, Guido, Guido,” he mutters. “For a dick, you’re not half bad.” He’s close enough to touch, and I’m having trouble breathing.
He touches my suit jacket, the fabric punctured and blood-stained. “I hope my father’s given you an expense account.”
No one’s paying me for this. I inhale hard. Wolf. Blood. My mouth waters.
“Let’s get this off you, then.” He grasps the lapels and pulls. My white button-down is in even worse shape. He doesn’t bother with buttons, tearing it free. My skin is smooth, healed, a dozen or so faint white scars marking where the silver hit me.
He puts a hand on the center of my chest and pushes. I take a step back. His eyes are sky blue and smudged with kohl. Another push. He backs me up till my legs hit the bed in my room. “What are you—”
“Shush.” He shoves, and I sit down. Then he straddles me, tracing circles over the smooth skin of my chest. “Don’t scream.”
Before I can respond, he forms a single claw from his index finger. He slices into one of the white scars, a look of intense concentration on his face, and then he flicks the silver pellet onto the bedspread.
I don’t scream, but it’s a very near thing.
He bends close, his expression even more focused. His breath is warm, and he licks, a single smooth stroke, clearing away the blood. My skin heals before he finishes.
“There.” His grin is brief, a flash of lightning. Catching his lower lip in his teeth, he finds another scar.
I grab his wrist. “Wait.”
“Sorry.” He jerks his hand free and digs in. His touch burns. Another silver pellet falls free. This time, he hums as he cleans the wound.
“They told me vampire blood was freaky good.”
“This the same ‘they’ who told you to go to the Fubar?”
“Hm.” He nuzzles my neck, a moment of sweetness. “Guess we need to talk about that.”
Before I can respond, he finds another scar and pierces it. The pain is sharp and fast and cleansing. We do need to talk about why a pair of gunmen showed up with his name on their lips, armed for vampire. For the moment, however, I’m helpless against his cruel tenderness. He gouges out every bit of the silver, and by the end, his long licks have turned into lingering kisses.
I want to pick him up and throw him out of the room, and I want to drag him closer so I can impale his ass on my dick. I’m still not sure I like him, but I’ve been alive for too many years not to appreciate when fate drops a warm, willing werewolf in my lap.
He eases away, giving me time to make him stop. I don’t. Standing at the side of the bed, he’s nude and fully erect. I try to say something, but the words won’t come.
“They say getting fucked by a vampire is intense, too.” He strokes himself, his eyelids heavy.
My body is still weak. I need to feed, but I won’t. Not from David. I won’t repeat the same mistake twice. “Shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet.”
“It’s almost dawn. You sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”
So many things. “No.”
“I’m going to take a shower.” He runs his thumb over the head of his cock, still teasing. “How will I recognize your friend when she gets here?”
“Blonde Amazon.”
His smile is the closest to honest I’ve seen from him. “Got it. Guess I’ll see you after I get back from the beach.” He turns toward the door.
“Wait.”
Glancing over his shoulder, he smirks like he can tell my gaze is stuck on his perfect ass. “What?”
“Why did you drag me out of there?” He could have left me to meet either the sun or the LAPD. “I mean, I appreciate it, but…”
His grin softens. “Dad hired you.” He shrugs. “That makes you pack adjacent.”
“Pack adjacent,” I muse. That’s a new one. “Well…thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
With that, David Collins, alpha werewolf, leaves to jack off in the shower. I come very close to crawling after him.
OXO
I rise before sunset. Our rooms are quiet, empty. Everything’s done in earth tones with pops of purple. I packed light, maybe too light since my button-down and suit coat went through the shredder. My only choice is a black silk crewneck shirt and jeans. Since I’m dressed like a bodyguard, I slick my hair and pump my biceps to reinforce the image.
I’m leaving my room when I hear voices in the hall. David. My dick jumps.
Apparently, I need to get laid, too.
He sashays through the door. Cancan kicks send his flip-flops flying against the wall. His bleached hair is in pigtails and his shoulders are bronzed. David’s outfit might have been purchased from a rack of playsuits made for middle school girls. It’s pink and white with stripes across the chest, stars across his ass, and sparkly ties at the shoulders.
He blows me a kiss, and all I can do is shake my head.
Sheena’s standing in the doorway, shaking her head along with me. Her sandy-blonde hair is pulled into a floppy bun on the top of her head, giving her another couple of inches on me. She’s already a good three inches taller and could likely bench press double my weight.
Amazon.
Amazons only give birth once, and Sheena’s mother had traveled to Greece to conceive, as was their tradition. She’d moved to LA to raise her child, under the possibly erroneous impression that Sheena would have a broader mind.
Instead of a child who spends her time on spiritual growth, she raised a 6’4” lesbian who makes a comfortable living as a bodyguard to the stars, with a side gig at my club as a leather-wrapped dominatrix.
“All right, sunshine. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Sheena drawls the words, sliding her aviator sunglasses into place.
“Thanks, Mom,” David trills from his room. He slams the door shut, continuing to holler at us. “I’m ordering room service and taking a shower. Do. Not. Disturb.”
There’s a pause where I wonder if I should laugh or apologize to Sheena. I do neither. “I appreciate the backup.”
Sheena crosses her arms, letting the door frame take more of her weight. “First time I’ve seen you with a man in a while.”
“I’m not with him. It’s a job.”
She gives me an easy, one-shouldered shrug, and I can feel the weight of her gaze through her shades.
“Little asshole reminds me of Connor.”
I must still be exhausted from the fight, because as far as I can tell, David bears a closer resemblance to a Pekinese than he does to my ex. There’s no good answer, so I keep my mouth shut.
“Yeah, I hear you thinking over there.” Sheena chuckles. She’s not as old as I am, but she’s had over 100 years to observe human behavior. “They both have the devil in their eyes.”