Just One Bite Volume 2 (12 page)

His face bent towards mine and I was captured by his gaze. It was like molten heat, those amber eyes.

“Why are you leaving?”

In a whoosh, I let the breath go. “You think I reek.”

Okay, the characters on the page would have thought of something cleverer. Then again, when they are feeling hot and needy and pressed against a truly wonderful male body, I am still thinking clear enough to give them something clever to say.

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “It isn’t a typical kind of smell for a woman to be bathing in.”

Crap on toast. He knew it was soap.

I realized I was thinking more than speaking when he continued to stare at me. I finally had the good sense to try to step out of his grip but his hands firmed on my arms and he moved me to a wall.

Pinning me, my options were to struggle or stick around and see what Mr. Super Hunk was doing. What I actually did was freeze up and kept staring at him.

Until his mouth moved to cover mine.

Basil

This close, her vanilla scent was clearer. I had a raw desire to take her, shove her in a shower and get off the remnants of whatever she had done to mask her scent in meat. Looking at her, all flustered and confused, I found myself tempted to possess her, driven in a way that I had never felt with anyone. 

I moved to kiss her.

When my mouth closed over those ripe lips, her hands snapped up to my chest to push me away. I tilted my head and changed the kiss to one of dominance, of need.

A tiny noise escaped her throat and the hands fluttered like butterflies against my chest. As if unsure what to do, she went still, very still and I took advantage of it to allow my body to speak to hers.

I was drawn to this woman, wanted her and it didn’t seem to have a damn thing to do with words. My very soul seemed to ache for those hands to stroke my skin. I wanted that mouth to respond to me.

Seeming to give in, she opened that sweet mouth for me and I delved my tongue into the sweet cinnamon tinted vanilla warmth of her mouth. She tasted like a dessert. I wanted more. Greedy, I wove my hands into all that hair.

And then she responded. Her hands stopped their confused fluttering and flattened against my chest. Her body seemed to collapse into me, melting and I sank into her surrender, feeling the globes of her breasts press into me through the fabric of that ugly shirt. This only made my balls tighten further and I bucked my hips into her so she could feel my need.

Overwhelmed, the passion that had flared in her was controlled quickly, as she pulled away from me to look with startled eyes up at me. Her face was flushed and already her lips looked red from my mouths demands on them.

“I’m Basil.”

She choked and the eyes went to sort of a desperate hilarity. “Basil?”

I nodded. I nudged her further to the wall with my body.

“Really? All this masculinity and your name is Basil?”

I quirked a brow at her. I was pretty sure I wasn’t getting my name bashed by a hot little librarian with a mouth I wanted on my dick.

“I am leader of the were pack. Maybe you have heard of me?”

Stilling, she searched my face. “You are one of them?”

I nodded slowly. I wasn’t sure why it mattered so much suddenly that she react well to the news. It wasn’t like I had ever cared before what someone thought of what I was.

Raising one hand to stroke down my face, she looked at me gently.

“They say that weres are like dogs in some ways.”

I snapped my head back from her hypnotic touch. She was comparing me to a dog?

Riley

He turned and stormed away from me. Well, shit. Finally I am hit on by probably the most attractive man I have ever seen and I chase him off by calling him a dog.

I stood, still for a second before making up my mind.

I wove through the crowd, easily picking up his dark head out of the crowd. He towered over them like a stalking night creature.

Bumped and jolted, I made it to a sign reading, ‘Employees Only,’ but I shoved under it to storm up the stairs after him. He had pinned 
me
 to a wall. The least he could do was hear me out.

He was alone, staring out at the crowd. There were scattered tables and couches up here but I ignored all that. 

Before my courage ran out, I jogged to his side and caught his arm. “What I was going to say, before you went off in a snit, was that like dogs, Were’s like order, structure in the pack. The leader is usually stressed, having to take on responsibility for everyone else, something not in their nature. I was going to say how that must suck.”

Blinking those strange eyes at me, his lips began to curve. “Did you just say I went off in a ‘snit?’”

Glaring at him, I decided this was stupid and a waste of my time. I spun and was going to stomp back down the stairs when he caught my arm again.

“No. It’s not easy.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the floor.

I turned back, drawn. My hand again reached up to his face and he caught one of my fingers between teeth that suddenly glittered in the darkness.

A wave of heat washed over me, nearly taking my breath away.

I was drawn to him, this stranger. My body was wet, needy already and he had done nothing more than nibble my finger. 

“I want to kiss you again.”

My lips curved and I answered without thinking. “Good.”

And when that lovely mouth of his closed over mine, I melted into him. Strong hands cupped my ass and pulled me against his firm heat. A tiny gasp escaped me before his mouth again devoured mine with a need as great as my own.

“Maybe bacon soap isn’t a half bad idea.”

“It’s not the reek of bacon. My soul calls to you. Dammit.”

Altogether, I still thought it was the bacon. But I wasn’t complaining as he took me away with mouth and hands and a body built for sin.

Pulling back, I studied him. “Soul?”

He shrugged. “A bunch of us have found our mates. I think you may be mine.”

I quirked a brow. “And you know that because…”

His mouth closed over mine and all ability to think was squashed in the heat and power of that one swift move.

Tilting his head back, he challenged me with those eyes. “That feel like it had anything to do with bacon?”

Lips curving, I said the first thing that came to mind. “No, but I feel like a meat lover anyway.”

Laughing, he moved over me and swept my world away with a kiss.

Charisma

by Linda Palmer

Myth made me good at what I did--myth and talent. Thanks to Hollywood and the legends we Vampires fabricated ourselves, I’d never be pegged as one...at least at first sight. That meant by the time my prey figured me out, they didn’t stand a chance. So what Vamp trivia did the world have right? The deadly feud between us and Weres. That really 
had
 raged for centuries.

Not that we openly battled one another. Outright fighting would draw way too much unwanted attention from humans. Plus some members of the supernatural society actually wanted to live in peace and harmony. Ha! How they thought we’d 
ever
 do that with Master Daemon Asmodeus after all our hides, I had no idea. So I personally took pride in keeping the Were-Vamp feud alive and had seduced so many enemies to untimely deaths that my colleagues in chaos nicknamed me Charisma. 

This particular Saturday night I wore tight jeans tucked into suede fringe knee boots and a white peasant blouse when I walked into Rafferty’s Bar and Grill. That was another thing that contributed to my success. I didn’t frequent the obvious Were hangouts as did other assassins. I went where the smart Weres went, to the nondescript places no self-respecting 
canis lupus
would go. And I didn’t wear a black leather bustier or five-inch stilettos, either. Might as well have 
leech
 tattooed on my forehead, right? I went for the home girl look.

My initial olfactory scan of the eatery proved disappointing. No Weres so far. What a shame. I’d had such good luck all week, almost every night having a choice among several targets. I even managed a double snuff on Thursday, a pleasure I wouldn’t soon forget. 

What I did scent was a couple of Vamps keeping a low profile. I did not acknowledge them as I sat at the bar to order a drink and some cheese fries. Yeah, another myth laid to rest. We could eat and drink something besides blood. What we couldn’t do was digest it, which meant I’d be puking my guts out later. Unpleasant, but worth it to fit in.

Around eleven, my nose twitched. With a toss of my long brunette curls, I scanned the bustling crowd for the source. I spotted him at the other end of the bar and winced. Just my luck. Another cowboy who probably liked the George Jones song blaring from the jukebox. Well, this 
was
 Texas. And since I didn’t have any other choice tonight, he’d just have to do.

I stole a moment to scope him out, approving of his shaggy brown hair, sky blue eyes, and athlete’s body. I especially liked his wide shoulders and long legs. The guy looked nothing but H-O-T, even in that redneck get-up. I licked my lips in anticipation. 

What can I say? I’m 
un
dead, not dead. And I’d always had a thing for...

Three guesses what. First two don’t count.

Yeah. John Wayne. Sick, huh?

Somehow I’d have to hold my lust in check so I could do the deed.

I stared until the guy felt it and looked my way, then ducked my head as if embarrassed to be caught ogling. Of course he left his stool and walked over with a bottle of Bud Light in his hand so he could sit next to me.

“May I buy you a drink?”

I hesitated.

“I promise I won’t bite.”

That made one of us. I nodded shyly. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“What’s your poison?” He eyed my empty glass.

Poison? I choked back a laugh at the irony of that particular word.

“Diet Coke.” I gave him a hint of a smile.

He gave me back a full-fledged one and motioned for the barkeep to refill our glasses.

“Name’s Beau.”

Sigh. Of course it was.

He offered me his right hand. As I shook it, I glimpsed a tattoo on the inside of his wrist just under the cuff of his chambray shirt. A bright red 
V
 set within a circle slashed from upper right to lower left by a thick black line.

My mouth went so dry I could barely say my made-up name. “Jenny Beth.”

“Short for Jennifer Elizabeth?”

“How’d you guess?” Somehow I managed to widen my smile. Before me sat the most notorious Vamp killer in the history of the paranormal universe. We’d stalked this dude for centuries to no avail as he murdered us one by one. 

But Destiny made him mine tonight. I could not screw this up.

He sniffed. “Love your cologne. What is it?”

“Infamy.” I didn’t add that years of testing ensured that one drop not only masked my Vamp scent, but actually lured unsuspecting Weres such as him. Unlike Beau, a.k.a. Omega, I made certain nothing gave 
me
 away.

As anxious as I was determined, I wanted to rush the process, to lure him outside with the promise of sex. Then I’d deliver a lethal dose of silver via my hot pink lipstick, the latest Vamp weapon fresh from the labs, and leave him stone dead in the parking lot.

Yeah. Silver really did work on Weres. Another myth that had truth to it.

But I took things slow.

We made small talk. We drank. We made small talk while we drank. He told me he owned a ranch. I confessed I taught first grade. I listened to his bullshit about fences, steers, and rodeos. He listened to mine about students, principals, and meddling parents.

Worse, we also laughed. A lot. And by the time I headed to the powder room at closing time to reapply my toxic lipstick, I realized I’d thoroughly enjoyed tonight’s deadly dance. I could definitely understand his high success rate. What I couldn’t understand was why he didn’t hit on one of the other Vamps in the bar instead of little ol’ “human” me. I also wondered why he hadn’t suggested we leave to be alone. I couldn’t remember a night I’d flirted any harder. Why, I must’ve dropped a dozen hints that the loud music hurt my ears, that the rowdy crowd smothered me, that I wouldn’t mind us having a private party elsewhere.

Beau never took the bait.

But I couldn’t give up. In spite of my weakness for cowboys, I wanted to kill him badly.

I waited for the place to empty out and the bartender to glare at us before I blurted, “Walk me to my car?” If he didn’t initiate a good-night kiss there, 
I’d
 do it.

“My pleasure.”

We left the building just as the owner flipped off the neon lights. I heard the lock click behind us. A glance back told me the sign on the door already said 
Closed
.

Perfect. 

Two vehicles sat in that parking lot--my midnight blue Hyundai and his black Dodge Ram. I dug my key from my shoulder bag and pressed the remote on it. A distant 
blip
 confirmed I’d unlocked my car. Beau kept pace with me all the way there, then opened my door and stepped aside so I could slip behind the wheel.

Damn. What was wrong with this guy?

Desperate, I brushed my boobs against him and tipped my head back. “Thanks, Beau. I had a great time tonight.”

“My pleasure,” he drawled. I could’ve sworn the corner of his mouth twitched as if he struggled not to smile. Clearly this cowboy didn’t know how near demise he stood.

When he didn’t lean in for a smooch, I took the initiative and pulled his face closer.

I pressed my lips to his; I waited.

Nothing. Happened.

Beau did not drop dead at my feet. Instead, he dipped me way back and laid a big, fat, really juicy kiss on my poisoned lips.

The world blurred as star-spangled midnight faded to pitch black.

And my last rational thought? 

Damn, this dog can kiss.

I opened my eyes much, much later according to the clock on my dash. My temples throbbed, a side effect of Were saliva. I realized I sat alone in my locked car, still parked at Rafferty’s, my wrists and ankles neatly bound with braided leather rope in such a way that I couldn’t use either. A painful glance to my right revealed the Ram parked in the spot next to me.