Garnet Lacey - Tall, Dark And Dead Part 7

"I like the way you think," he said with that dark, vaguely evil chuckle.

I found myself reconsidering the wisdom of getting naked and vulnerable with someone who, under different circ.u.mstances, considered me food. "Uhm," I started.

Then all the air rushed out my lungs as he tossed me onto the couch. I caught my breath in a little gasp. I braced myself for what I thought would come next. I a.s.sumed he'd throw himself on top of me and the ripping off of clothes would commence.

Instead, Sebastian stared. He stood at the foot of the couch, looming really, hungrily taking in the sight of me struggling to catch my breath and regain my composure. Sebastian cut quite an imposing figure. I'm not sure I'd registered just how big he really was. Somehow, without his shirt, he managed to appear taller and broader. Maybe he looked so strong because white-hot sun pooled in the hollow of his collarbone. Blazing strips lay along the line of his taut stomach muscles and continued down the sharp angle of his hip. Meanwhile, he smiled at me, showing fangs.

The whole look in his eyes was very predatory... very metahuman... very masterful. All I wanted to do was blush and squirm under his intense scrutiny, like some helpless harem slave, but the part of me that had merged with Lilith would not allow it.

I pulled my shirt off. Slowly. Teasingly. As if to say,You want something to look at, boy? Here I am .

The cold air and his gaze sweeping across my skin teased my nipples into stiff peaks. While Sebastian continued to stand there, I stroked my thumbs across the tips, giving myself a hot spike of pleasure between my legs.

His eyes registered a hint of surprise, but the expression on his face seemed to me to be one of cool amus.e.m.e.nt, as if my exhibition were some kind of pleasant distraction. It didn't help matters that, standing as he was, Sebastian looked down his aquiline nose at me, dark black hair framing strong, aristocratic features.

I ran my hands along the swell of my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, down along the soft curves of stomach and hips. Hooking my thumbs in the elastic of my sweatpants, I lowered them just enough to expose a little more skin.

Sebastian grabbed the cuffs of the pants and gave them a good yank. I stopped what I was doing long enough to help wriggle my legs free. Now I was naked, and he still had on his pajamas. A situation that would soon need correcting, in my opinion, but at least he'd become an active partner once more.

Sebastian caught my ankle and bent to kiss my foot tenderly. His lips tickled the skin of my sole and, involuntarily, my foot jerked. He held it firmly, and purposefully, deliberately spread my legs.

I felt a little like a doll being moved into place, so I attempted to show my disapproval by givingSebastian a playful nudge with my free foot. Before my toe even touched his stomach, he caught my ankle. Meanwhile, he'd begun to work his way up my inner thigh with his tongue. Each kiss caressed my skin lovingly. His breath tickled warmly and sent a shiver of pleasure up the length of my leg.

His progress was maddeningly slow. I twisted and squirmed just like I swore I wouldn't do earlier. I was, in fact, this close to begging him to speed things along, and I had to bite my lip to keep from uttering any words I might regret later like,Oh, master, please .

Attempting to sit up, I made a grab with the intention of dragging his head up to the part of me that was burning for his attention. Expertly, he lifted my legs into the air, over his shoulders, so my back flopped hard against the rough upholstery of the couch. I would have felt defeated except that his mouth found its way exactly to where I most needed it. His long hair tickled the inside of my thighs as his tongue and teeth slid hard against me.

The section of my mind that was able to form coherent thoughts kept worrying about those extra-pointy canines being so close to my tenderest parts. The sharp tip of tooth shot an intense wave of pain/pleasure deep into my core.

"Oh, Sebastian, no." I'd meant to say something a bit wore comprehensible like,Actually, what you're doing is great; just don't draw blood, okay ? but apparently that kind of complex sentence structure was beyond my current abilities.

Unfortunately, he took me literally. He stopped what he was doing entirely. I tried not to sob, but a whimper escaped my throat anyway. His golden eyes watched me over the mound of my belly as if to ask,no, what ?

I didn't want to say, because I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted at this point; I just wanted him closer, a lot closer. So my hands clutched his hair, and I pulled him closer for a kiss. As he crawled upward, I could feel his body slide on top of mine, strong, solid, and very, very hard. That made me smile. Dead guys could be tricky in that department. Parrish had always been able to perform, but he hadn't been dead nearly as long as Sebastian.

What I wasn't expecting was the heat. The warmth from Sebastian's body enveloped me, and the spot where my flesh met his pajama bottoms fairly burned.

Great G.o.ddess, he still had his pants on.

My hands moved to quickly remove the obstacle, but the feel of hipbone and smooth, firm b.u.t.tock distracted me. As my hands moved, so did my own hips, arching up to grind against him. At that he let out a frustrated growl. With a jerk, I undid the string on his pajamas.

"Is there something you want?" I teased him.

His answer involved pulling down his pants and reaching down to guide himself into me.

Despite evidence to the contrary, I still braced myself for the shock of the cold, dead flesh. When his heat filled me, I gasped in surprise. I kissed him full on the mouth, lest he misinterpret my noises.

We began rocking together, slow at first. Sebastian grew more urgent with each thrust, and I responded in kind. I clutched at him, pulling him deeper into me. I wanted more, harder, faster. The smile he flashed me at that moment, especially with the fangs showing, made me feel at his mercy. The pounding tempo heset didn't help matters.

My back pressed deeper and deeper into the couch with each thrust. He held himself on his arms, over me, grinning wickedly.

Who dares?

My fingernails dug deep into the flesh of his back, but Sebastian barely flinched. I bucked wildly beneath him, but I was completely pinned.

Not for long.

And then suddenly we were on the floor wedged between the couch and the coffee table. He was on his back, and I straddled him. Somehow, our bodies were still entwined. A nasty set of scratch marks marred his cheek. Oh, and I held his wrists.

"I take it you want to be on top." He flashed a weak smile to try to cover the obvious pain in his voice.

Lilith.

I let his hands go by way of apology and sat up so that I knelt over him. Moving slowly, I worked at rekindling the pa.s.sion. It didn't take long for Sebastian to figure out the advantages of this position. His hands covered my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, pulling and teasing at already taut nipples. In no time, we had the rhythm back.

I lost myself in the motion of our bodies. I could feel myself getting closer, then, without warning, he pulled me down into a tight embrace. His teeth sank into my shoulder. It was a deep, hard, full-mouthed bite.

Blood wasn't the only thing that came out in a rush.

The pleasure didn't stop there. Sebastian kept moving inside me, while he sucked and licked at my shoulder. His need added desperation to each thrust, driving harder and harder. When Sebastian was finally satisfied, I'd been there done that a half-dozen times. He released me, and I rolled limp and panting onto the floor.

"You suck," I mumbled into the short nap of the Persian rug. My shoulder throbbed painfully where it lay under the weight of my body. I briefly worried about bloodstains on what was clearly an expensive weave, and then Igiggled at my sudden fastidiousness.

Sebastian pulled one of the blankets from the couch and wrapped it around me tenderly. Then he got up and left. I heard the door to the kitchen swing open and shut. Just like that.

I'd have felt wounded at being thus discarded if I had any energy to feel anything other than just plain wounded. I might even have gone after him and told him a thing or two about how to treat lovers if any part of my body were still under my command. As it was, I felt about as st.u.r.dy as Jell-O.

"You really, really suck," I told the rug, my brain incapable of coming up with anything more vehement to say about Sebastian's insensitivity.

However, I had to retract my sentiment when he returned with breakfast. He helped me sit up and all butheld the gla.s.s of orange juice for me to drink.

"It helps with the blood loss," he said matter-of-factly.

I leaned my back against the couch. The plate, still hot from the microwave, rested in my lap. The heat felt good. So good, in fact, I wanted to just curl up in a fetal position around the warmth of it. That was when I realized how cold I was. "How much did you take?"

"Too much, probably," he said, embarra.s.sed. My blood flushed his cheeks a bright red.

"I look good on you," I told him, tracing the blush with a clumsy fingertip.

His gaze dropped to the plate. He picked up the bacon as though to offer it to me. "You should eat something. Or take a nap."

"Meat is murder," I said teasingly, pushing away the bacon. Then I started giggling again a bit hysterically. I mean, it just seemed so pathetic. I wouldn't eat something already dead, and yet he didn't hesitate to have me for breakfast.

Sebastian failed to find the humor. Or he was sincerely worried about my sanity, I couldn't tell which.

Very carefully he replaced the bacon on the plate and offered me more juice once I stopped laughing. He put his arms around me as I drank the rest of the gla.s.s and then, without meaning to, I fell asleep with my head against his shoulder.

I dreamt of Lilith.

At first, I was just running... from something, someone close, too close, just behind. I had to keep moving. A moonlit jungle surrounded me. Primate screams echoed though a canopy of trees.

Thick, sharp leaves cut at my face, pulled at my body. A tangle of mud and vegetation sucked the soles of my feet, making it difficult to keep up my pace.

Water dripped from broad palm leaves. The hum of insects filled my ears. Sweat clung to my skin.

I felt like I was suffocating in the heat and darkness.

I came upon a clearing with an apple tree... or was it pomegranate... growing in the center. Lilith reclined in a hollow of the tree, which had gnarled and warped over time into a seat, a throne.

Above her head, ripe fruit and white blossoms hung.

She was naked. Long, serpentine twists of white-gold hair partially hid shriveled, dry b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her hips were narrow and slender, almost boyish, yet her pose exuded s.e.xuality and seduction. "You were careless," she admonished me, her voice a hiss. "Perhaps I should not have spared him."

Sebastian.

No,I wanted to say , you did the right thing; he's a good guy,but my mouth felt full of cotton, and I found I could only shake my head mutely .

"He takes liberties with us," she said, twirling a tight ringlet of hair in her fingers. An owl screeched overhead. "We will take something from him in return."

"No," I started, "I don't want to play this game. You're not-" But she was already fading into the mist of dreamworld. Beating wings brushed at my ears as the sun of the waking World stabbed at my eyes.

"You're not the boss of me," I continued for my own satisfaction. "So not."

The sun continued to shine cruelly through the dusty window in a broad, blinding sheet. I pulled the covers over my head and groaned. My shoulder twinged. Hedid take liberties with us. What time was it?

Noon? I had the sinking feeling I was supposed to be at work several hours ago. I started to sit up to look for a phone, when the world spun around, and I fell back to the couch, feeling faint.

Where was that b.a.s.t.a.r.d, anyway?

If he'd abandoned me again, there'd at least better be a note and some hot coffee, or there'd be h.e.l.l to pay.

When I found the energy to sit up again, I found half of what I needed tucked under the orange juice gla.s.s. It took me a moment to translate Sebastian's almost feminine, curling cursive, to read: "My dearest Garnet, very sorry, but transmission couldn't wait. Will be back at noon. Coffeepot is on. While I await our reunion, I remain, your humble, loving servant, Sebastian."

Okay, so I wouldn't kill him right away, if only because I found the "your servant" part charming.

I drained the dregs of the OJ, even though it was tepid and clung fuzzily to the back of my throat.

Stumbling into the kitchen, not even bothering to try to find my clothes, I helped myself to as much of the pot of coffee as I could drink. Though my stomach lurched at the sight of soggy, wilted remains of the peppers, I ate all of the egg concoction Sebastian had started earlier. On top of that, I added two cartons of yogurt and a bowl and a half of frosted-something-crunchy with milk.

Then I had another cup of coffee.

Somehow the caffeine and the calories did nothing to improve my mood. Usually, this was my favorite part of a relationship: the first morning after. This was the time I tended to gather up sentimental memories: the quaintness of the red-and-white-checked tablecloth, the glow of the sun on the polished oak of the cabinets, the G.o.d-awful crooning of Toby Keith on the radio... and the complete lack of a lover sitting across from me. That last part made me especially grouchy.

And now there was no more coffee.

I put my head down on the table, remembering the other reason I never let Parrish bite me. Not only did the mark sting like a sonuvab.i.t.c.h, it wiped me out. I felt like I got the ugliest hangover from a party I wasn't even invited to.

Meanwhile, Sebastian ended up with so much energy, he hadn't stayed around and waited for me to wake up. He was off merrily rebuilding the whatcha-ma-dingee.

At work, no less. Somehow I could forgive him more if he'd gone off to putter in his garden. No, he took off for town, for a job.

I started to build up a good angry burn, which might have fueled a trip all the way upstairs to the shower, when the back door opened. A very pretty boy stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me sitting naked in the kitchen. His features were delicate, almost Asian, and he had long, silken black hair that, though it was cut short above his ears, artfully fell in front of his eyes. Something about him looked familiar-the cut of his jaw and the slope of his nose?-but whatever it was, he reminded me of Sebastian, actually.

He wore a deep purple silk shirt and black fitted jeans. The shoes he wore made him look European, since they were black and polished. He was slender to the point of being reedy and awkward. I guessed him to be about seventeen.

I watched his expression as I tried to hide my nudity under the table. His gaze was measured, distant, jaded-like somehow he'd already seen his share of naked women sitting at kitchen tables. He appeared to have no concern for my discomfort but took me all in, pausing with some interest to linger on the bruise/bite on my shoulder. That made him smile. I couldn't say it was a friendly smile. There was something about the cruel turn of his lips that made him look downright mean.

"I see you've met my father," he said. "Is he around?"

Third House

KEYWORDS:.

Visitors, Delinquency, Improvisation

"I'm sorry," the pretty young man continued, though he sounded anything but. "I should have called first, but I'm sure you know how Papa is with phones."

He let himself all the way inside the kitchen. Leaning a hip against the doorframe, he crossed his arms in front of his slight chest. There was something about the man that reminded me of a cat. Perhaps it was the deep golden color of his irises or the way sunlight occasionally appeared to refract a green glow, mirror like, from the center of his pupils. Maybe it was just the languid threat of his posture.

"Do you think you could give him a message for me? That is," he paused to chuckle slightly, "ifyou plan to see him again."

Oh, what a piece of work.

"He's at the garage," I said, trying to affect a casual tone while hiding my chest under the kitchen tabletop. "Go tell him yourself."

I tried not to make my words sound too much likego f.u.c.k yourself , but I could see by the sharp rise of his eyebrows that Sonny Boy got my meaning.

Other than that slight acknowledgment, however, he gave me no indication he was fazed by the situation, my nakedness, or my anger. He continued to lean there, relaxed, while I blushed furiously. "Ah," he said, feigning concern. "The lies begin so soon." "What are you talking about?"

"I was just at the garage twenty minutes ago. None of the guys had seen him all morning. When did you two... ah, part ways?"

"You mean he wasn't there? He wasn't at Jensen's?" Suddenly I remembered how focused the Vatican agent had been on finding out more about Sebastian's day job.

"That's usually what-"

"Shut up," I snapped, standing up, my nakedness ceasing to matter. "We have to find him. Now."

I told Sonny Boy to cool his Keels while I rounded up some clothes. I'd thought about going to look for the washer and dryer, but there was something about a vampire's bas.e.m.e.nt I just didn't want to explore.