Love Lust (8 page)

He held me to him, his flesh buried into mine, and circled his hips, winding my climax into an explosion so bone-deep I thought I might die.

Justin’s version of Heaven had barely opened up, though. He waited for me to come down from my cloud, raining kisses on my neck and cheeks. Then began again. Slow, methodically paced thrusts. Twisting me into another vortex of need.

“Justin,” I moaned, needing more, but unable to quite articulate what exactly. “Justin, please.”

My climax hovered on the brink begging for something more.

“Tell me, baby,” he said, his mouth near my ear.

“Fuck me like you mean it,” I said. An image of Justin flashed in my head. Him toying with a gold band, a heart-shaped emerald between two hands. He twisted it in his hands, fit it to the first knuckle of his pinky, then took it off.

I blinked. The real Justin filled my vision.

He leaned up, leaned my legs against his shoulders and slammed into me. Oh, fuck, yes. I watched hungrily as his head fell back. I witnessed the second he lost control and fell into pure sensation. His cock grew bigger and, as my body spasmed in pleasure, his throbbed. He collapsed onto me, satiated.

“Oh, Liv,” he said, moving to my side, sounding sleepy. “Where have you been all my life?”

My lust’s appetite appeased, his words should have filled me up with hope and confidence.

Instead, a thick knot of worry tied around my heart. Careful what you wish for. I thought of Seth, of how deeply I’d hurt him. I thought of Paula, curled up like a child on our sofa, sweating, shaking. I should have stayed in the room with her and Dr. Santos. I should have heard him out. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so scared over what would happen the moment Justin woke up.

What would I do now?

Chapter Eight

Justin kissed my forehead, waking me. I blinked my eyes, adjusting to the dim room. I sat up.

“Wakey, wakey, Liv,” he said, pulling me to my feet.

“What time is it?” I should call Paula. I should get out of here. Which was a crazy urge. I liked him. He liked me. What was I scared of?

“Early,” he said and led me out of his bedroom. Handing me an evergreen robe and too-big-for-me socks, his impish smile made my belly flip over.

“What are you up to?”

He put his finger to my lips. A bundle tucked under one arm, ducking his head out his front door, he checked the hallway. “Okay. All clear.”

I couldn’t resist giggling as he snuck me up a flight of metal stairs and retrieved a key from above the doorjam. “You know you sleep like a ballerina?” he said.

I scrunched my face in doubt. A ballerina, I was not. Too short, too curvy.

“Hands above your head, one leg posed like you’re about to pirouette.”

Better than snoring, I supposed. Or drooling. He stopped at a door marked ‘EXIT’. I had an idea of where we were headed, but couldn’t ruin it for him. The sparkle in his eyes was too cute.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

Reluctantly, I did.

A few steps later, my socked feet cold from the frost covered concrete, Justin steered me to a stop. He wrapped his arms around me, the afghan around our bodies, and whispered in my ear, “Open them.”

Mandarin and marigold blazed the morning sky as the sun peeked over a distant, white-tipped, mountain range. My heartbeat quickened. I’d seen few things in my life as breathtaking, let alone shared one with someone.

“I’m going to miss this so much,” Justin said. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come up here just to watch the sun paint the sky.”

“This where you take all your girls?” The words were out before I thought of what I was asking. Jealousy does not become me. Or any girl after the long term. Why did I keep breaking my own rules with him? And why wasn’t it damaging my chances?

He only laughed. “Loads of them. It’s my play. Dinner, play my soundtrack, love in an alleyway, then sunrise in my arms.”

“Wow. You’re a master. Don’t forget the car and driver.”

He tensed. “You know that was a joke, right, Liv? I’ve never brought anyone up here.”

Part of me wished he had. What was wrong with me? He was everything I wanted. Sweet, sexy, a voice that touched my soul, a body that fed me so well. Yet, my fear of getting hurt climbed. I felt too damned vulnerable to his charms, which made little sense. I wanted him to fall for me, didn’t I? I didn’t answer and he didn’t press, but something in his demeanor changed. Once I was able to meet his eyes, he gave me a quizzical look.

“Coffee?” I asked, pulling the robe tighter. I didn’t actually care about coffee. I cared about getting back downstairs and down to my purse. I cared about getting a hold of Paula so I could get out of here. Any more of this and I’d be spilling sonnets.

After a moment, Justin nodded. His quick smile didn’t reach his eyes. But he took me back to his condo. As he set to filling the coffeemaker, I dug out my phone and took it to the bathroom.

Paula answered on the first ring. “Liv? Hey, how’d it go? All filled up?”

“Yeah, yeah. Good. Did you find anything out?”

“Sort of.”

“What do you mean sort of? Either you did or didn’t.”

There was a pause. “You’re going to want to hear it in person.”

I didn’t need another word of encouragement. I jammed back into my clothes and downed a cup of coffee.
“So, Paula needs me for an appointment. She’s on her way.”

“Everything okay?”

“Oh, sure. Just a chiropractor, actually. But, she can’t drive afterward.” Impressive little fib that was true, too. Kind of.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Justin said as I adjusted my bag over my shoulder.

“Yes.” I gave him a quick kiss and wave, then hurried for the elevator. The metal doors shut on the vision of him leaning against the frame, a sober look on him that spoke volumes. We’d shared more than sex this time. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say I was leaving with a part of him inside of me. More than the lust I fed off of. Him. Something deep and intangibly Justin.

Paula was sitting in the idling car outside. I hopped in. “Alright. Tell me.”

She shifted into drive and said, “Looks like you were right all along.”

“What do you mean?”

“Love. Real love is the one thing that can cure our condition.”

My heart sank. “You couldn’t say that over the phone?”

“That, sure. The thing is, the real love acting as a cure goes a bit differently than I thought. Or than you thought.”

I ran a hand through my hair, irritated. “Different how?”

“Well, for starters, I don’t think you’ve ever actually been in love.”

“Of course I’ve been in love. I loved Seth. I loved Benjamin, Jared, every relationship I’ve been in all the way back to before loving Jimi.”

“Don’t kill the messenger. I’m only telling you what Dr. Santos said. He needs your bloodwork this morning, by the way, so we’re going there now.”

Good. I could ask him what the hell Paula meant because she wasn’t relating it well at all. “He already did yours?”

“Uh-huh. According to his tests, I’ve never loved, which I know, I know, doesn’t surprise you, but it did surprise me. I thought I had.”

“How can whether you have been in love be tested, Paula? I think this doctor is taking us for a ride. I should have known.”

“Whoa. What’s got you so bah-jigetty?”

“I’m not bah-jiggety. I’m irritated. We drove how many miles? And for what? Let’s just go home.”

Paula wagged her finger above the steering wheel before merging into freeway traffic. “You’re scared. Of Justin. You really like this one, don’t you?”

“Of course I like him. I need that part, remember?”

“No, there’s more to it. He really likes you, too. Did he say he loves you?”

“No.” And he wouldn’t have to. I’d be able to feel it. “I’m having a hard time this time, okay?”

“Is it the hunger? Is he not enough?”

“No, okay? Look, I don’t know what it is. Maybe I already love him, I don’t know. All I do know is I feel like a brown bunny in a blanket of white snow.” I wanted to tell her about the weird images. About a bone-deep feeling of missing some important clue I didn’t know how to articulate, either. Sometimes, I wished I had more succubus experience. Enough to see a feed, see attraction auras. Maybe then this feeling could be explained.

She pulled the car into the strip mall parking lot and put the car in park. “This could be good. Really good.”

“I told you I didn’t want to come here, Paula. Save your money. I’m sure whatever he did for you will be—“

“Stop! I don’t care if you believe in it or not. Dr. Santos showed me, okay? He showed me how love can change blood at a cellular level and you will do this. You will do this because I am asking you to. Dead end, false hope, snake oil, or not. You will do it. If you can’t do it for you, do it for me.”

My pulse slammed. Paula got out and came around to my side. She opened my door, reached in, and undid my seatbelt. She reached her hand out for me to take. “You don’t owe me a thing, Liv. I owe you a lot. But I swear, if you don’t do this, you are on your own.”

Well, since she put it that way, what choice did I have?

I faked getting out, snatched the keys from her hand, and scrambled into the driver’s seat. The tires screeched and smoked as I reversed, then peeled out onto the street. Someone honked. My heart felt like it was beating in my brain.

In the rearview mirror, Dr. Santos stepped out of the office front door. The stricken look on Paula’s face would be branded on my memory for the rest of my days.

At least, that’s how it went down in my imagination. In reality, Paula deftly dodged my reach, laughed, and glared all at once.

“Alright! You win.” I got out of the car and followed her inside. “How does a chiropractor have access to bloodwork? I mean, it isn’t like a regular doctor’s office.” I’d rather see some weird carved sticks than a lab.

“I don’t know. You should ask him,” she said, sarcasm dripping as she knocked on the glass door.

“The office isn’t even open?”

“And to think, I almost brought you a Starbucks.”

Ouch. “You should have. I’d be less bitchy.”

“No, you wouldn’t and besides, shockingly enough, I couldn’t find one.”

Dr. Santos appeared behind the glass without the white lab coat; he looked far too normal for comfort. Not a wrinkle in sight. Nothing like I imagined. Or hoped. But, for the first time, I could sense the witch in the doctor. A few cursory greetings later, he led us to a back room. He washed his hands, then proceeded to draw my blood into a small plastic vial as well as any nurse ever had.

Paula kept the small talk up, filling my silence.

He motioned us again to follow him. I found myself in a chilly room lined with industrial refrigerators and a countertop laden with microscopes and slides. He sandwiched a blot of my blood between glass and examined it under a microscope.

The smell of sterile metal heightened my slight queasiness. It was nerves, I knew. Paula gave me one of those ‘this is it’ kind of looks. The verdict.

“Interesting,” Dr. Santos murmured.

“What?” I asked.

After another eternity of a moment, he backed up and gestured for me to look. I did and had no idea whatsoever what I was looking for. Then he showed me a comparison.

“This is uninfected blood. This is yours.” Again. Mine. Others. Mine. Others. Infected. Not infected.

Yeah. I could see it. But seeing a difference didn’t tell me what that difference signified. “Great. So succubus blood looks different.”

“As does any ‘infected’ human’s blood.” The way he said ‘infected’ implied he meant far more than HIV or Hepatitis C. I didn’t want to know.

“Paula said love changed the cells.”

He nodded, retrieved another set of slides, and let me look. “Approximately. This is Paula’s blood. See the dense area at the center of each cell?” Not really. “Now, this is Paula’s blood blotted while she concentrated on someone who she deeply loves.”

It all looked the same to me. I backed away from the microscope. “I thought you were supposed to be some sort of witch doctor,” I said, ignoring Paula’s warning look.

Dr. Santos gave a small laugh. “Witch doctor? No. Not exactly. My grandfather was a shaman and while my heritage supports belief in a shamanic tradition that magic is inherited, I prefer a more scientific approach.”

The thing was, he had all the props, but I didn’t buy it. “I don’t see any difference in any of the slides you’ve shown me.”

“I do.” Paula stepped between me and the doctor, her glare speaking volumes. “I see it and his theory, if you’d like to actually listen to it, makes sense to me.”

Convenient. I shrugged. “Can I listen someplace warmer? Someplace that has coffee?”

Dr. Santos agreed to meet us at the nearest Dunkin Donuts.