Love Bites Part 13

Dylan shrugged. "She wore me down."

"Yup! To a nubbin." Emmy grinned. "Now he can't satisfy me, I'll have to find my kicks elsewhere."

"Well come over here, sweetheart." Quentin opened his arms, feeling playful and fully enjoying his friend's jealous glare.

Emmy crossed the short distance and settled her shapely hips onto his lap. She leaned toward him and kissed his cheek.

"Uh huh!" Quentin pressed a finger beneath her chin and held her motionless while he gave her a wet, smacking kiss.

"Now see here!" Dylan said, his voice laced with irritation. "Get your lips off my wife."

Quentin broke the kiss. "Married? Now I really must kiss the bride." He bent her over his arm and pressed his lips to hers, again.

Emmy giggled and clutched his neck, and giggled louder when Dylan growled another warning.

When Quentin came up for air, he slung his arms around her and continued to hold her in his lap. "Have to hand it to you Dylan, your Emmy is all woman. I can see why you'd want to stake your claim. But Emmy, what do you see in this Paddy?"

Emmy's cheeks flushed with pleasure, and her eyes softened when she gazed at Dylan. "He's my big, bad wolf. He scares the h.e.l.l out of me when he's making love."

Quentin understood her perfectly. Darcy scared the h.e.l.l out him. His need for her grew stronger by the night. "So when did you two marry?"

"On our way here-in Vegas!"

Quentin released a bark of laughter. "Tell me you didn't..."

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Oh yes!"

Emmy's smile was beatific. "Elvis himself did the honors singing 'Hunk, Hunka Burnin' Love'!"

Quentin's mouth stretched with an unholy grin. "Must be love."

Shamefaced, Dylan shrugged. "What can I say? She had me by the shorthairs at 10,000 feet."

"Oooh!" Emmy bounced on his lap, her excitement impossible to contain. "Do you know what the 'Mile-High Club' is?"

Quentin quirked an eyebrow at his best friend.

"Navarro leant us his 10-seater to fly here. Emmy seduced the steward and he told her about the club."

"You make it sound like I had s.e.x with the man," Emmy said, her lips pursed in an adorable pout.

"d.a.m.n close enough. He came in his pants!"

"I had to give him something in exchange."

"In exchange?" Quentin asked, knowing the answer. He was sure he'd enjoy Emmy's version better.

"For his blood, silly. Besides he was wearing an ap.r.o.n. No one but he and I knew. Except nosy over

there. Of course, Dylan had to initiate me afterward-in the bathroom, the galley-"

"He gets the idea, love," Dylan said smoothly.

The bedroom door creaked open behind him and the scent of raspberry soap wafted over him. Darcy

had showered. Quentin's c.o.c.k twitched.

"I think you have the wrong woman in your lap," Emmy said slyly. She rose and walked toward Darcy."I'm Emmaline Harris-" "O'Hara!" Dylan reminded her. "That rude man is my husband, Dylan O'Hara," she said, wrinkling her nose. "We're friends of Quentin's. Friends of the night, if you know what I mean." Quentin turned to watch the exchange. Darcy had changed to a faded gray sweatshirt with the SU logo emblazoned across her chest and donned a pair of faded blue jeans and sneakers. Her hair was still wet from her shower. Two rosy spots of color warmed her cheeks. The contrast between the two women was remarkable. Darcy was the taller of the two, but Emmy dwarfed her by virtue of her exuberance and statuesque frame. Emmy was dressed in a blood-red pantsuit that clung lovingly to her fleshy figure; her bright gold hair and ivory skin a vivid contrast to Darcy's severely understated appearance. But Quentin knew how deceptive Darcy's beauty was. It was tactile rather than visual. Baby-soft skin stretched over taut, defined muscle. Soft hair, soft lips, soft kittenish cries when she grew excited... Her curves were subtle. Her a.s.s fit his palms, warm and round. Just the thought of her small, round b.r.e.a.s.t.s with their velvety-soft, rose-red nipples... Quentin shifted on the seat and caught Dylan's amused stare. "I never thought I'd see the day." "Huh!" Quentin grunted. "I don't know what you're talking about." "She's not what I would have expected," Dylan murmured. Quentin's eyes narrowed in warning.

"Oh ho! How the mighty have fallen."

"Boys!" Emmy tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Darcy and I are going to scare up some steaks. Can we bring you anything?" Dylan smiled lazily. "Whatever you're having, dear." "See how he dotes?" she said, with a wink at Quentin. Emmy blew Dylan a kiss and followed Darcy through the swinging door. Dylan's face grew serious. "So, tell me about Nicky." "He's on the run. We found his new lair, but he gave us the slip." "Us? I heard you were working with the local vampire hunters." He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. "I take it Darcy is one of them? Aren't you playing a dangerous game?" "It's been interesting," Quentin murmured. "I'll bet it has."

Darcy cut raw steak into bite-sized cubes, enjoying the sharp crack of her cleaver as it met the cutting board, while Emmy busied herself with washing potatoes and popping them in the microwave. "My guy's Irish," Emmy said. "Strictly a meat and potatoes kind of guy," Emmy said. "So you two are married?" Hack! "Last night," Emmy replied happily, unaware Darcy was glaring holes at her back.

Hack!

"It's so hard to believe. Just a couple of weeks ago I was a bookkeeper and had sworn off men forever, and then there was Dylan. Don't you find vampire men impossible to resist?"

"Nope. The only thing I find hard to resist is slipping a stake through their hearts." Hack! "Oh." Emmy's eyes rounded as she turned to watch Darcy. "Oh! You saw me sitting on Quentin's lap.That was nothing. Quentin's just a tease. A little jealousy goes a long way in the bedroom, if you knowwhat I mean." She smiled. "Dylan will be rea.s.serting his mastery when he drags me to a bed. There's never been anything between Quentin and I, so you don't have to worry." "I wasn't worried." Darcy's words were clipped. "I don't give a rat's a-" "Although he has seen me naked several times," her voice softened. "Actually, he's watched Dylan and I having s.e.x several times." Hack!

"Not that he did it on purpose, I'm sure. Dylan and I tend to get carried away and can never make it to a bed. You're not jealous, are you?"

Hack! "Of course not. What's it to me who he watches having s.e.x?"

"Oh. I thought you two were...involved. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, earlier. Sorry about walking in on you and all. Are you mad about that?"

Darcy slid the meat off the cutting board onto a platter and handed it to Emmy. She turned her back to wash her hands at the sink.

"You know, you aren't at all what I expected Quentin to fall for."

Darcy's hand stilled as she dried them off. Emmy's comment mirrored her own thoughts. After seeing Quentin's hands curled around Emmy's abundant curves, she'd felt distinctly s.e.xless.

"I never would have expected him to have such good taste. Dylan tells me he's strictly a munchable man. Any port in a storm. But you're not like that. You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Startled, Darcy let Emmy see her torment. "I'm not in love with him," she lied.

"Of course you are," Emmy said softly. "Who wouldn't be? He's an honorable, s.e.xy guy. You know, he saved my life."

Darcy shook her head. "What we have is just s.e.x."

"Keep telling yourself that," Emmy said with a slow smile. "I did. I thought there was no way Dylan would ever fall in love with me. I was too fat, too ordinary."

Anger melted beneath Emmy's thoughtful gaze. Darcy snorted. "Ordinary? You're beautiful. Any man would appreciate your curves. I feel like stick-girl standing next to you."

Emmy blinked. "Well thanks, but you're wrong. Men were not beating down my door. Only Dylan ever appreciated my big a.s.s. And if I'm s.e.xy now, it's because Dylan makes me feel that way."

Emmy set down the platter and stepped closer to Darcy. She reached to smooth Darcy's drying hair away from her face. "I can see why Quentin would fall for you. You have beautiful, expressive brown eyes." Her hand cupped her cheek. "And soft skin. And a willowy, yet strong body."

"No b.o.o.bs," Darcy said with a crooked smile.

Emmy lifted an eyebrow in challenge and cupped Darcy's breast.

Darcy sucked air into her lungs, shocked by the intimacy of the caress.

"You have lovely, small, round b.r.e.a.s.t.s-with very, very responsive nipples. I'd do you."

Darcy blushed and pushed Emmy's hand away.

Emmy's expression grew serious. "You're not what I would have expected for Quentin. You're much better."

Desperate to change the subject, Darcy asked, "I take it you haven't been a vampire long?"

"No. Nicky Powell nearly killed me. Dylan had to turn me to save my life."

"Do you..." Darcy chewed on her lip. "...like being a vampire?"

Emmy's face beamed. "It's incredible. Every sensation is more intense. I can see in the dark. Scents are richer, fuller. My hearing is keener. And my l.u.s.t!" Her laughter sounded like tinkling bells. "I'm insatiable! Poor Dylan thinks he has to follow me around every where I go, because I want it all the time."

Amen! "I'm not a vampire, but I want it all the time with Quentin," Darcy admitted.

"So, are you thinking about turning?"

Darcy nodded. "He's asked me."

"It's very dangerous. Think long and hard about it."

A blush heated her cheeks. "It's the long and hard part of him that nearly has me convinced!"

The two women giggled.

Emmy gave her a coy smile. "So is Quentin as good as he looks?"

"Better! But he always has to be in charge."

"Sounds like Dylan. They're both arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, but I'll tell you a secret. Dylan loves it when I turn the tables on him. A little aggression-and a lot of up close and personal attention to his c.o.c.k, and he's putty in my hands." Emmy picked up the platter. "Let's go feed these guys. They're going to need their strength."

Darcy stripped in front of the bathroom mirror. So, I'm willowy. She tweaked her nipples until they reddened and stretched to points Quentin couldn't help but notice.

She rummaged through the cabinet beneath her sink and found a tube of rose-scented cream and squeezed a generous amount onto her palm, then smoothed it over her hips, belly, and thighs. Next she found a tube of lip-gloss, cinnamon-flavored, and slicked her lips with the pink gel. She wanted him to pay special attention to her mouth. Then she searched for the perfume her mother had given her the previous Christmas. Tuscany. She pulled the cap off the bottle and inhaled the fragrance-floral, spicy, with a tinge of musk. A couple of squirts on her wrists and she was ready to go.

Pulling open the bathroom door, she found Quentin had already divested the bed of its covers and was sprawled in the center, two pillows behind his head. Both lamps on either side of the bed illuminated his body. He smiled and patted the mattress beside him. He was entirely too smug. This was going to be so much fun.

She sauntered toward the bed to join him.

Quentin's hot gaze traveled from her face to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and his chest rose. When it slipped lower, Darcy increased the sway of her hips. His c.o.c.k pulsed against his belly.

She climbed onto the bed from the end, crawling between his outstretched legs until her knee nudged his sac and her hands were planted on either side of his hips.

"Come over me," he commanded.

Darcy shook her head. Instead, she stared down at his c.o.c.k for a long moment, and then looked at him from beneath the fan of her eyelashes. "It seems to me, someone's been neglected."

"Darcy?" His voice rose in warning.

She leaned down and opened her mouth. Her tongue darted out to lick a path from the base of his shaft to the tip. "I'm in charge this time, Albermarle."

His eyes narrowed and a flush painted his cheeks red.

She sc.r.a.ped a fingernail up the inside of one thigh. "You can't move. You can't touch me. If you do, I'll punish you." She delivered a slap to his inner thigh near his b.a.l.l.s.

His leg flinched and his jaw hardened. His gaze promised retribution. G.o.d, she hoped so.

She licked his lightly furred thighs, her mouth moving ever closer to his groin. She felt the tension building in his legs. When she reached his smooth sac, she mouthed his b.a.l.l.s, smearing the cinnamon-gel over them.

His breath hissed. "It burns."

She slapped his thighs again. "I'll just have to lick it off, won't I?" She sucked first one, then the other ball into her mouth, laving his tender flesh with her tongue. Suctioning gently, she tugged and licked-swirling her tongue, mouthing him with her lips.

His breath grew ragged and his hips lifted, a shallow thrust that reminded her there was so much more to explore. Darcy felt an answering twinge of desire tighten her v.a.g.i.n.a. One last lap, and she lifted her head. "All better?"

His chest rose and fell rapidly, but he didn't speak.

Darcy grinned and hoped he was getting nervous. She walked her fingers up his c.o.c.k and it pulsed. She tapped the engorged head. "Uh huh! Bad boy. Not yet."

Sliding her body over his groin, she decided to make a detour. When her face was level with his, she widened her legs and placed her knees on either side of his hips. Her open slit centered on his erection, and she rocked to caress it wetly with her l.a.b.i.a.

His eyes were open and glaring directly into hers. Darcy leaned down and sucked his lower lip into her mouth. Then she slid her lips over his, smearing the last of the gel. His tongue darted out and licked her, and then he nudged her face with his nose to push her back. He proceeded to remove every last trace of the gel from her mouth.

"Mmmm," he groaned appreciatively.

Darcy held herself still over him, savoring the sensations. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s speared his chest, her hips slid her

open c.u.n.t over his c.o.c.k, and she felt the rising tide of an o.r.g.a.s.m.

She gasped and drew away.