Night Fall: Truly, Madly... Deadly Part 2

"Darcy, your housing him would solve several problems." The captain's ruddy complexion grew darker. "We wouldn't have to draw attention to our 'arrangement' with expense reports we'd have to justify. But you needn't worry-he checks out with Seattle. Seems Quentin, here, has helped on several major investigations. He's considered a trustworthy a.s.set."

"A trustworthy vampire?" The woman's partner, Joe Garcia, snorted.

"Having him a.s.similated with the team is an excellent idea, actually," the captain said. "Darcy, I'm a.s.signing you and Joe to be his shadows during this investigation. In the meantime, Joe, I think you'd better stay at Darcy's place, too. She's got the room."

Quentin grinned, not the least concerned there would be a third in their mix. It might prove amusing.

"As soon as he wakes tonight," the captain said, "we'll start picking his brain. I'll send around an artist to get a sketch of the vamp we're looking for."

Darcy's arms folded over her chest, her expression pure bulldog obstinacy. "I don't trust him, Captain."

"Well, now you can keep an eye on me," Quentin said. "And if I step out of line, you can use one of your toothpicks to turn my black heart to dust."

Finally, she looked at him.

Something that warmed all his manly parts.

Her angry gaze glittered. "I will be watching you. Have no doubt about that."

"All right, then," the captain said. "It goes without saying this little arrangement is strictly need-to-know. This is an unprecedented step the department is taking. I want it to work. Now, get out of here."

Darcy entered her house quietly and set down the bags she'd retrieved from Quentin's hotel room. He could carry them the rest of the way to his bedroom when he woke. His bedroom. Already, the house felt alien. Invaded. As soon as she'd deposited Quentin and Joe on her front doorstep earlier, she'd hotfooted it out of the house. Retrieving his things had only been an excuse to put some distance between the vamp and her raging hormones. Why him? Why did her body come alive at just the sight of him?

Suns.h.i.+ne poured into the large, open s.p.a.ce of her Florida room, and she grinned. Joe was a devious man. He'd opened every blind and shutter to ensure the vamp remained trapped behind the guest bedroom door. Joe was bare-chested and asleep on the couch, a tangle of covers knotted around his waist. With his arms flung above his head, she had an excellent view of his washboard abs and the arrow of black hair that stretched from nipple to nipple and down below the edge of the sheet.

Cursing herself for noticing, Darcy tiptoed past him. Her libido had such rotten timing. The vamp had awakened feelings she'd tamped down for three years.

Thankful she had Joe around to save her from herself, Darcy headed to her bedroom. Inside, she stripped off her clothes and padded barefoot to her bathroom, intent on showering away the sand she was sure had worked itself into every crevice.

Reaching behind the shower curtain, she turned on the water. She brushed her teeth and rummaged beneath the cabinet for the scented soap her mother had given her at Christmas. The raspberry-perfumed soap would be her secret indulgence. No matter she normally used only plain bar soap for a quick scrub. She wondered if the vampire's keen sense of smell would detect her change of routine. She reached in to lift the stopper and stepped beneath the shower's spray.

"I thought you'd decided to find yourself another place to stay."

Darcy nearly screeched at Quentin's husky whisper. She whirled, and then she remembered she hadn't a st.i.tch of clothing on. Her hands covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but she quickly realized she had to look ridiculous. The rest of her was bare, and his hot gaze devoured every exposed inch.

"What do you think you're doing?" she whispered harshly, keeping her gaze glued on his face.

"Availing myself of my hostess's amenities?" he said, a smirk tilting one corner of his mouth.

One glance down and she'd be toast, she knew it. She was already having problems breathing after noting the way the water ran in rivulets from the ends of his hair and down his broad, hairy chest. "Well, you can just waltz right out of here and go use the guest bathroom. I'm not sharing."

"Your boyfriend's made that impossible for me to do." He folded his arms over his chest. "You're stuck with me until dark."

"Not my problem. And his name's Joe. How the h.e.l.l did you get past him?"

Quentin's smile stretched, and he shrugged.

Darcy wished the rose-colored tile behind him would make him seem less...manly. Instead, the ridiculous backdrop only emphasized his appeal. "I'll scream, and Joe will come running. He'll kill you if he finds you here-and I won't be happy to clean up the mud you leave behind." She jerked when he reached over her shoulder for the shampoo.

His long, muscled forearm grazed her shoulder, and Darcy held herself as stiff as a statue to keep a shudder from racking her body. His large, broad frame crowded her, sucking the air from the steam-filled stall. Watching him calmly squeeze a glob of shampoo into his palm and raise his hands to lather his hair made her breath hitch.

She didn't know why she didn't make good on her threat to scream for help, except she'd be embarra.s.sed as h.e.l.l if she were found naked with the vampire. Her reticence couldn't have a thing to do with all that golden skin and the tufts of dark hair beneath his arms-and certainly not the c.o.c.k lifting from its bed of wiry dark blond hair.

Ah h.e.l.l! She'd looked.

Darcy spun and grabbed the washcloth. Scrubbing her arms and b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she abraded her skin to remind herself this was a dangerous man-whom she probably shouldn't turn her back on.

When his soapy hands slid around her waist and pulled her back snug against his chest and abdomen, the only thought that didn't flee her mind was that his c.o.c.k rested in the crease of her a.s.s.

"Easy. Breathe," he said, his mouth next to her ear. "I'll offer you a trade."

Darcy fought her body's inclination to lean into his embrace. If she were going to be weak, she'd lay all the blame at his doorstep.

"I need blood-about half a pint to stave off grumpiness..." He licked her ear then sucked her lobe between his teeth.

A frisson of desire shuddered through her body, unwanted, but so strong her head fell to the side, exposing her neck.

"... and I can give you an o.r.g.a.s.m unlike anything you've ever known."

Mention of the "O" word tightened her belly to a hard knot.

He'd stirred an ache when he'd first strode out of the waves. Nothing less than a wild f.u.c.king would do to get him out her system.

Good Lord, was she already figuring out ways to justify surrender? No!

His hands smoothed up her stomach to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Darcy tried to push them down. Not because she didn't crave his touch, but because she knew her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s didn't stack up well against the woman he'd been with earlier. Her traitorous nipples constricted instantly. Right against his palms.

His soft laughter s.h.i.+vered through her.

Dammit, who was she trying to fool? Letting out a deep breath, she eased apart her legs and let his c.o.c.k slide between them.

Quentin groaned and tongued her neck. All the while his hands caressed her, smoothing over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, across her belly, and down to her p.u.s.s.y.

Darcy swayed on her feet, as pliant as a rag doll in his arms now, biting her lips to keep back the moans that threatened to tear from her throat.

His fingers separated her l.a.b.i.a and stroked between.

Her hands reached behind to grasp his thighs, otherwise she'd have melted to the floor of the shower in a puddle.

He licked behind her ear then tsked. "We'll have to do something about this sand, first."

Again, he reached for the shampoo. When his fingers ma.s.saged her scalp, Darcy swore someone purred. His strong fingers worked in the suds and kept right on kneading and shaping. He drew her under the water to rinse her hair and, with her eyes closed, she followed him, docile as a lamb.

"Give me your soap," he said.

Her eyes slowly blinked open. "Soap?"

"The bar you're clutching."

Darcy looked down and realized she still held her mother's soap in her hand. She held it up for him.

Leaning close, he sniffed then took the bar. "Raspberries. My favorite. Now, come here." He drew her away from the water and sat on the ledge at the far end of the stall, pulling her to stand between his open thighs. With a twirl of his finger, he indicated that she should turn around.

She shot him one last meaningless glare and turned. She listened as he worked the lather between his hands.

Then he glided his soapy hands over her skin from shoulders to b.u.t.tocks, and all the sensitive points in between. By the time his hands reached her a.s.s, Darcy's heart beat loudly. His hands parted her b.u.t.tocks, and his finger trailed down the crevice. "No sand here," he said, gravel in his voice.

In the creases between her legs and b.u.t.tocks, he found a trace of grit, so he lifted her cheeks and spent minutes soaping and smoothing to ensure not a granule was missed. By the time he'd finished, Darcy couldn't keep her legs from wobbling, and she was ready to scream.

When he turned her to wash her front, Darcy's gaze fell on his face. His nostrils were flared, his cheeks reddened, and the smirk was now a tight line of tension. Gratified he was every bit as overcome with desire as she was, Darcy gave herself over to his touch. Just this once, she'd be weak.

He lathered his hands again and reached for her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Already tight and puckered, her nipples caught the soap bubbles he smoothed there. His large hands dwarfed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but despite her earlier doubts, he played with them, apparently fascinated.

His fingers rolled her nipples, tugged and squeezed until they stretched, fully engorged. She nearly protested when he left them to glide his hands down her belly. He swirled a finger inside her belly b.u.t.ton, and Darcy's abdomen jumped and quivered, her legs once again turning to jelly. Then he reached lower.

She parted her legs to make room for his hands, and he swept them between, rubbing over her outer l.a.b.i.a. Then he split them to finger her tender inner lips.

Darcy reached for his shoulders to steady herself and leaned to rest her head on his shoulder as his fingers rimmed her c.u.n.t, circling, rubbing.

He found her c.l.i.toris and plucked it. "Lift your leg over mine."

He didn't want mere compliance-he demanded her knowing partic.i.p.ation.

Darcy was beyond any pretense of defiance. She lifted one leg and draped it over his. The s.p.a.ce between her legs was wide open for his marauding fingers to explore. Her nails bit into his shoulders.

Looking down the s.p.a.ce between their bodies, Darcy gasped, her breath growing shallow and raspy. Their differences, human to vampire, weren't important now. How their bodies complimented each other's, feminine to masculine, a.s.sumed precedence. Something deep inside her soft core yearned to yield to his mastery.

His erection stood straight up, veins crisscrossing beneath golden skin tinged with red. The wide, plump head looked soft and purplish. She couldn't resist smoothing a fingertip over it.

"No touching. Not yet," he said, his words clipped.

He rolled the bar of soap between his palms, working up more lather, and then set it aside. When his hands descended to her crotch, Darcy closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

His fingers rubbed over the hair on her mons, tugging, ma.s.saging, and then he reached lower to follow the lines where her thighs met her p.u.s.s.y, his fingers smoothing, yet creating an ache that drew her belly taut.

She widened her legs even more and sank slightly on one knee to rock against his hand. Hurry! She wanted to shout at him. She needed him to be inside her, now.

He traced a finger between her l.a.b.i.a.

Darcy sucked in a breath, sure that now he would dip inside.

"Open your eyes." He removed one of his hands from her and circled his c.o.c.k. "This is vampire c.o.c.k, sweetheart," he said, his voice roughening.

"What? You think once I've had vamp, I'll never go back?" As soon as the words were spoken, she regretted her quip. A habit she tended to do when nervous.

Quentin's face broke into grin. "I can guarantee any man who comes after me will be found wanting."

"You think highly of yourself, don't you?"

"I've over a hundred and fifty years of practical experience, love. I'm just stating facts."

A hundred and fifty years of f.u.c.king? She wet her lips with her tongue. "From where I'm standing, I'm not seeing anything that special." Liar!

His hand glided up and down himself. "This is only one piece of the equipment, love. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I want to describe the process, so there will be no surprises. I don't want to frighten you."

"I'm not scared." Her skittering heartbeat made a liar out of her.

One brow rose, mocking her a.s.sertion. "Well, then let's get on with it." The hand between her legs rubbed over her hip, then clasped one b.u.t.tock to force her closer. He angled his c.o.c.k forward to her p.u.s.s.y and pushed between her legs.

Darcy's nails bit harder into his shoulders, but she refused to betray her excitement in her expression. She pressed her lips tightly together and dared him with her eyes to take her.

Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her. Darcy gasped, and he took advantage, sliding his tongue into her mouth.

She tilted her head and deepened the kiss. When her own tongue swept inside his mouth, she encountered sharp barriers.

She tried to jerk away, but the hand on her a.s.s anch.o.r.ed her against his hard, lean body. Her skin noted changes there, too.

"I wanted to prepare you." His voice was deeper, rougher. Quentin was losing his veneer of humanity, changing into his vampire self. He pressed her a.s.s closer, causing his c.o.c.k to rub against her aching c.u.n.t. His gaze pinned her like a b.u.t.terfly to a mounting board. "Tell me you don't want this."

Darcy s.h.i.+vered in his embrace, her nipples constricting tightly. "Just this once," she whispered, not recognizing the husky tone of her voice.

The corners of his lips curved, and the tips of his fangs appeared. He stood, his c.o.c.k pus.h.i.+ng unerringly inside her c.u.n.t, higher, deeper, until his hips lifted her from the floor.

Darcy gasped loudly. She'd known he was large, but knowing and knowing were two different things entirely. Her p.u.s.s.y was stretched to the limit. The walls of her v.a.g.i.n.a eased around him, softening to accept his intrusion.

In two steps, he pushed her beneath the shower's spray, pressing her back against the tiled wall.

As water sheeted over her face, Darcy closed her eyes. Her legs rose to wrap tightly around his hips, and her arms clutched his shoulders. Instantly, her focus became the rigid pole of his s.e.x, driving impossibly deep inside her. His hips rolled. Darcy's back rose and fell against the wall, and her legs squeezed to draw him closer, deeper.

His hands grasped her b.u.t.tocks, and he lifted and shoved her hips down, causing a friction between her v.a.g.i.n.a and his c.o.c.k that threatened to sweep over her like a wildfire.

"Give me your neck," he growled.

Now! Now she'd find out what a true vamp-induced o.r.g.a.s.m felt like. She rolled her head to the side and offered her neck for their pleasure.

His tongue lapped at her skin, and Darcy trembled. Then his fangs bit into her, and her breath hissed between her teeth. A short, sharp pain was followed by an indescribable euphoria as his mouth suctioned against her neck.

Darcy grew still in his arms, sensation overpowering her limbs. Her pa.s.sion-drugged senses noted his body was hardening, muscles expanding. His c.o.c.k thickened and lengthened, and Darcy's hips lurched. She whimpered.

His teeth pulled away. "Wait. Will ease." His chest and hips shook.

Darcy opened her eyes and saw his savage mask. Plates of bony armor pushed out his forehead, altering his gaze into a sinister, hooded leer. His mouth dripped with her blood.

"I don't want you to stop." She bit her lips and moaned when his hips jerked beneath her. "Move! Move now!"