Samson's Lovely Mortal (7 page)

“Samson.”

Delilah’s voice made him turn on his heels. She had taken less than two minutes to come down. Was this really her? She looked even more beautiful than he remembered. The night before she’d been soaked, but now her long dark hair hung from her head like silk. Her face was clear, and if she used any makeup, it wasn’t visible. Her green eyes sparkled. She wore a black swinging skirt and a violet top tied on one side. He couldn’t wait to untie that knot and unwrap her from it.

“Delilah.” He took her hand to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on it. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.” Her scent engulfed him instantly and wrapped itself around him like a cocoon.

She gave him a ravishing smile. “I’m glad to see you.”

“Shall we?” He offered her his left arm, and she hooked her hand in it. Wanting to feel more of her, he placed his right hand over her fingers, pressing down gently. She was soft and warm. Tonight those fingers would touch him in all the right places, just as his hands would learn every inch of her body.

“What are we going to see?”

Samson had no idea. He’d asked Oliver to get him the best tickets to whatever was considered the best show in town and had completely forgotten to ask him what it was. He had put the tickets into his jacket pocket without even looking at them.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I love surprises.”

She would get plenty of surprises with him. Hopefully all good ones.

He helped her into the car and addressed his driver.

“We’re ready, Carl.”

As the limousine pulled away from the curb, Samson opened the bar in front of him. He pulled out a small platter with sushi and canapés.

“I figured you probably haven’t eaten yet.”

“Thank you; that’s so thoughtful of you.” Delilah blushed, and the color looked good on her. Maybe he could find other ways to make the blood rush to her cheeks.

“Champagne?” He was already opening a bottle and poured two glasses, handing her one. He touched his glass to hers and looked at her.

“So I may make a better impression on you tonight than I did last night.” He gazed into her eyes.

“You already have.”

Her admission was unexpected. Could he now go straight from sweet and charming to sexy and smoldering? One portion of his anatomy certainly put a “yes!” vote in already.

Down boy!

Samson shifted in his seat and pointed at the canapés. “What would you like?”

She stretched her hand toward a piece of sushi. He shook his head, took the piece, and guided it to her mouth.

“Open,” he urged her in a soft voice.

She obeyed instantly, and he gently placed the small piece of sushi into her mouth. His finger briefly brushed her lips as he did so, and it wasn’t accidental. She swallowed.

“Aren’t you going to have any?”

“No; I’ve had an early business dinner,” he lied, “and besides, I’d much rather feed you.” Not that he wouldn’t have loved the idea of her feeding him, but sushi wasn’t exactly on his menu. No solid foods for a vampire. He noticed desire growing in her eyes as he looked at her mouth. He imagined those lips on his naked skin. How would his skin react to her mouth brushing over him?

“May I have another one?” Her voice was smooth, silky, temping. Did she know this was foreplay?

He placed a canapé into her mouth and provocatively let his finger linger at her lips until she responded to him by closing them over the tip of his finger. In slow motion he withdrew his finger and let it slide over her closed lips.

He could already feel his body respond to her. Ten more seconds, and she would give him another raging erection.

“Do you like my choice of food?” It wasn’t his choice of food he wanted to discuss. “I could get you anything else you wanted.” The question of what else was implied. Preferably a portion of his body. Preferably the one which was currently begging for more space in his pants.

“No, this is quite perfect.” Her eyes roamed over his body, sending a tingle of anticipation into his loins.

“More?” How many hours would she be able to keep up with him before she’d collapse in his arms, naked, hot, and exhausted?

“I’m quite hungry today.” She was playing his game, and he liked it. There was nothing shy about her. She showed him what she wanted and wasn’t embarrassed about it. A sign of a strong woman. He couldn’t wait to find out what she would be like in bed—if he ever made it to a bed with her and didn’t fall over her someplace else. Which was a definite possibility.

“I guess I’ll have to keep feeding you. I don’t want anybody to start a rumor that I don’t feed my guests. Nobody is going to leave my company hungry. For anything.”

She responded by licking her lower lip, and it looked like she didn’t even know she was doing it. His gaze was involuntarily pulled to her breasts as soon as his peripheral vision noticed a change in them: her nipples had hardened and were pressing through the fabric of her top. His cock responded in kind and tilted in her direction.

When he gave her the next canapé she held onto his hand, and as soon as she’d swallowed the food, her lips opened again. Slowly and deliberately she pulled one of his fingers into her mouth and licked it clean. He drew in his breath. She sucked on him gently, and her eyes locked with his.

She did the same with the next finger. Samson felt his cock strain toward her, asking to be next in line to feel those luscious lips. When she released him, he traced her lips with his moist finger.

“Delicious.” Delilah shifted, changing the way she crossed her legs, drawing his eyes to her smooth calves. He admired the gentle curves of her flawless flesh.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but he had to wait. For now he wanted to bring her body temperature to boiling point and enjoy the view of her hardened nipples. Unfortunately, it was his own body temperature which was rising. Maybe he should ask Carl to turn on the air conditioning.

The ride to the theater was too short, especially since he was having so much fun. How he would make it through the two-hour performance he had no idea. He was in the right mood to give the tickets to the next passerby and take her back to his house immediately. But he was worried that his uncontrolled desire for her would scare her and make her retreat. He couldn’t risk it.

“Sir, we’re here.” He heard Carl’s voice as the car came to a stop.

Delilah watched Samson intently as he helped her out of the car like the perfect gentleman, almost as if the few minutes of erotic play hadn’t happened. He was deadly sexy, and the touch of his fingers on her lips had aroused her more than she would want anybody to know. If a simple touch did that to her, she’d be heading for the abyss shortly.

She could barely believe how bold she’d been in the car. She wasn’t normally the type to go after a man, but all her inhibitions had gone out the window as soon as he’d fed her the first piece of sushi. Potentially the whole situation could have been embarrassing, especially if he had withdrawn his fingers. But he hadn’t. He’d participated.

On the marquee of the theater she saw that the play they’d come to see was the musical
Wicked
. She’d heard good things about it and had wanted to see it when she was back in New York.

As Samson led her through the crowd, his hand rested possessively on the small of her back. It was a commonly accepted gesture for a date, but after what they’d shared in the car, it felt more sexual than anything—and she didn’t want to change a thing about it.

They were seated in the middle rows of the orchestra with a great view of the stage. His shoulder brushed against hers as they sat next to each other. He reached over to hand her the playbill. Their hands touched as she took it, and it sent a wave of fire through her core, low in her belly. She’d never met anybody who could send such sensations through her body with a simple touch. She couldn’t look at him for fear he would see in her face how aroused she was.

“I hope you’ll enjoy this.” She felt his whisper close to her ear and wasn’t sure he meant the show. Or was she the only one with a one-track mind? She turned to him to try to read him. No, she wasn’t the only one. The wicked glint in his eyes confirmed it.

“I think I will.”

His mouth was only a couple of inches from hers. How easy it would be to kiss him.

“I’ll make sure of that.” She would hold him to his promise.

The house lights dimmed, and slowly the chatter of the audience ceased. Everything went quiet in anticipation. She could almost feel the electricity prickle between them, when she suddenly felt his hand on hers. The sexiest man she’d ever met was holding hands with her in the dark of a theater. The touch conjured up images of hot, steamy sex, and she felt her body temperature spike as a result.

Samson kept holding her hand during the entire first act and only released it when there was occasion to clap. She noticed him looking at her from the side several times, but she didn’t return his gaze. She was too worried her good manners would desert her like the rats leaving a sinking ship, and she’d jump his bones right there in the theater. She didn’t need or want an audience for what she wanted to do with him.

When the lights came up for intermission, he let go of her hand.

“It’s gotten warm in here.” She fanned her face with her hands.

“Downright hot. Would you like a drink?”

What she needed was to splash some water onto her face before she spontaneously combusted. Or maybe a cold shower to douse the flames she felt shooting through her belly.

“That’d be great.”

They got up and made their way through the crowd toward the bar. Samson was right behind her, his hand on her waist guiding her in front of him. When she reached a bottleneck at the door, she stopped abruptly, unable to get any further. His body suddenly molded itself to her back. His chest felt strong and hard, and his hand, which had rested on her waist, now slid around her stomach to hold her close to him.

“I guess we’re stuck here for a little while.” Despite his comment, he appeared unconcerned about the hold-up. His hand lay intimately low on her stomach, his fingers leisurely tracing the seam of her panties through her skirt. Subtly she pressed her body into his and felt the rigid outline of his erection against her lower back. His hand on her stomach held her in place so she couldn’t rub herself against him any further. Had he noticed what she was doing?

“Delilah, we’ll have to be patient.” She felt his warm breath on her neck and his lips almost brush her skin. His words told her he’d caught her naughty movements and knew exactly what she was up to. Why didn’t she feel embarrassed about her brazen behavior?

“Patience is overrated, don’t you think?” Her retort elicited a chuckle from him, but he didn’t release her from the intimate position she was locked into. On the contrary, it felt as if he pulled her closer into him, or was his erection growing? His fingers seemed to slip slightly lower, provocatively pressing against the top of her mound.

“I’m sorry, are you getting too hot?” His voice sounded almost innocent, when his hands were anything but.

“I like it warm.”

None of the other theatergoers could see his response to her admission, but Delilah could feel it.

Samson slowly rubbed his thumb against her sex, the thin fabric of her skirt barely providing any barrier. His nostrils picked up her scent: the sweet scent of her arousal. She surprised him with how far she let him go, and if there weren’t that many witnesses around, he’d fuck her right here, standing up.

All it would take was to hitch up her skirt, strip her of her panties, and she’d be his for the taking. Without even touching her, he knew she was already wet—wet enough for him to slide in without resistance. What if he pulled her aside and found a dark corner somewhere in the theater? Would she be game?

Before he could form a plan, the bottleneck dissolved, and he had to release her from his intimate embrace. They moved into the bar.

“What would you like?” He had a hard time making his voice sound normal again. In his own ears he could only hear the lust and desire his body had difficulty getting under control.

“Just some water, please.” As he ordered, Delilah excused herself to find the ladies room and left him at the bar. His eyes followed her. She had curves in all the right places. How could a woman like her still be unattached? Were all those human guys out there blind? Just as well; at least he wouldn’t have to fight off the competition. She would be all his soon—very soon.

“Wishful thinking.” The voice behind him was one he hadn’t wanted to hear ever again. Should he ignore her and leave?

“I said—” she repeated.

Samson spun around. “I heard you the first time, Ilona.” His voice had the razor-sharp edge to it which he always employed when dealing with enemies. He glanced at the tall beauty in front of him. She was dressed to the nines, her long red hair artfully draped over her naked shoulders. The tight corset of her dress accentuated her breasts, and the dark green of her gown complemented the color of her hair and skin. She was stunning, but he wasn’t fooled, not anymore.

“A little tense, are we?”

“None of your concern. Shouldn’t you be heading for a costume party somewhere in Hell?” Samson took the bottle of water the bartender handed him and paid.

“Definitely tense. So it’s true then?”

He gave her a sharp look, unwilling to even guess where she was headed with her insinuation.

“Go play your games with somebody else. You should have realized by now that I don’t care for your company.”

“You once did. In fact, you craved it. Don’t you remember?”

Oh, he remembered. “I don’t recall much about that time, given that I was temporarily insane back then. So why don’t you move along. There must be plenty of rich guys in town you haven’t bedded yet. Or have you slept your way through them already?”

“At least they can get it up.” Her light tone belied the venom in her words. She sipped nonchalantly on her glass of wine.

Samson hissed under his breath. How he would have liked to snap her little neck. He could almost hear the sound it would make when breaking.