Real Vampires Hate Their Thighs
Page 5

“Well, this is interesting. When does the floor show start?” I leaned over Jerry’s shoulder and saw that he had a pair of nines and a pair of threes.
Richard laughed. “Glory, you should have blocked your thoughts. Now I’m folding. You win, Blade.” Richard threw in his cards and turned to Flo. “Can we leave now? Are you both through with your diet wizard?”
“He was a phony, like you said, amante.” Flo looked at me. “We waste no more time on such as that.”
“Glad to hear it.” Jerry raked in the poker chips. “Richard, you owe me big bucks here.”
“Here’s how I’ll repay you. Flo and I are leaving and you and Glory can have this room to yourselves. We’re taking KiKi with us.” Richard smiled at the waitress and pressed what looked like a large bill in her hand. “No one will disturb you for the next hour. How’s that for a payback?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Jerry grinned at me. “I think I’m finally going to see how Glory danced in Vegas.”
“You wish.” I strolled around the room. Sure enough, there were some costumes on the shelves in one corner behind a screen. So role-playing was encouraged here. Well, that was something I could get into. There was also a small stereo and a selection of music that could work for a dance number. I peeked out from behind the screen. “Didn’t you guys say you were leaving? Dim the lights on your way out.” I grinned and winked at Flo. My friend had known just what to say to cover for me. I’d worry about diets and money tomorrow night. Tonight I was going to appreciate the guy who loved me as is, curves and all.
Jerry leaned back in his chair, the cigar stubbed out in an ashtray and carried off by KiKi. The stained glass lamp hanging over the table dimmed to cast a red glow, and Jerry looked handsome and mysterious in its light.
“Give me a minute to put on my costume, lover, and I’ll dance for you.” I gave him a finger wave, then disappeared behind the screen. The costumes were skimpy and sparkly. I chose one that had fishnet hose, a bikini bottom with gold spangles that hit halfway down my thighs and a bra top cut low enough to leave little to the imagination. Both bra and bikini were made of a sheer material guaranteed to make Jerry’s eyes bug out.
I hit play on the stereo and picked up a black feather boa. When the music started, I eased one arm out from behind the screen and waved the feathers. Gradually, I revealed myself until I could strut around the table toward Jerry. His eyes weren’t bugging out. They were narrowed. On me, on my costume. On the way I moved my hips as I walked in my high heels, while staying just out of his reach. Not that he was trying to grab me. Nope. He just stared, his mouth firm, his eyes dark. What was he thinking? That I was a lowborn slut like his mother had always said? I stumbled, then steadied.
Not thinking that way. I was a good dancer. I’d done what I’d had to do to earn a living. I’d been a product of my times. In 1604 I’d had no opportunity to be educated, to learn a trade, and I’d not had the luck to be born into a noble family. I’d been the widow of an actor when Jerry had met me. In the centuries since then I’d used my wits to survive and educate myself. I’d refused to depend on him or his money. Glory St. Clair, the original independent woman.
So I continued to dance, to strut my stuff. And I finally relaxed enough to let the music take me, and to just feel it and flow with it. I looked at Jerry again and his eyes were glowing. With desire. Ahh. So he did like what he saw. I ventured closer and trailed the feathers across his face. He reached for me and I danced out of the way.
I decided to up the stakes in this Vegas game and dropped the feathers on the table, then reached behind me for the bra clasp. When it came open, I slowly shimmied out of it and dropped it on the table. I saw Jerry lick his lips, his fangs glinting in the light. Ah.
I danced closer, then behind him, letting the tips of my breasts brush his soft hair. With a growl, he snatched me around the waist and lifted me into his arms. He stood there for a few endless seconds, a strong silent vampire with ravaging on his mind. I could see it, sense it and wanted it more than anything.
Then he raked the table clean with one arm, chips flying everywhere, his empty glass hitting against the wall. It landed on the carpet with a thump without breaking. He laid me gently on that table and stared down at me. The music still played, sensual, with a throbbing beat that echoed the pulsing going on inside both of us. I knew it because he let me read his mind. He pulled my hand to his chest and I felt the slow thrum of his heart. Very slow, but there, just as mine was. Then he slid my hand lower, to the heat and hardness of his cock, which was clearly aching with need . . . for me.
I took his other hand and put it to my breast. He covered it, my nipple tight against his palm. Then I pulled his hand down to where I needed to feel him inside me, and the pressure almost sent me over the brink before I’d even managed to wiggle out of my costume.
“Say something,” I whispered.
“You rob me of speech.” Jerry bent to take my breast into the heat of his mouth.
I wanted to ask what he meant. No speech. Good? Bad? What the hell? He was in “driving Glory insane” territory with his clever lips and tongue. And he was helping me get those bikini bottoms off without ripping the fishnets. I kicked off my high heels and concentrated on unbuttoning his shirt with shaking fingers. Loved the shirt or I’d have just ripped it off of him and tossed it aside. Really loved his chest, so manly, scarred from long-ago battles before he’d been turned vampire. No modern workouts for my guy. He’d earned his muscles the hard way, by wielding a broadsword taller than I am.
I knew every inch of him. I could, and had, traced this territory blindfolded more times than I could count, yet I never tired of exploring it. I went to work on his belt and trousers, and soon had him as naked as I was. I hoped to hell Richard had posted a Do Not Disturb sign on our love nest, because I’d hate to be interrupted just as Jerry began licking his way down my body to my favorite place for him to drink from me. Yep, there’s a vein there at my inner thighs . . .
“Jerry, I love you.” I had his hair in a grip that was probably painful, but he was bearing up. He had my legs over his shoulders and his eyes on the prize. “Drink from me.”
He jerked me closer, his hands digging into my ass as he held me to him. “Gloriana, lass, you’re beautiful. Just as you are. Never forget it.” With a growl of pure predatory lust, he sank his fangs into the sweet spot. I flung myself into an orgasm that was of the “screaming like a banshee” variety. Lucky for both of us, banshees must be regulars at this club, because nobody came running in to check on us. Or, if they did, neither of us noticed.
Once he’d drunk his fill, Jerry eased me down and plunged into me the old-fashioned way. Which was great for orgasm number two, or was it three? God, the man had a way about him. I was so busy kissing and biting him myself, I lost all claim to reason. I inhaled his sweet scent and sank my fangs into his jugular, drawing his life force into me as another orgasm roared through me. He held me close, the throb of his heartbeat echoed by my own as he waited for me to withdraw and lick the punctures closed. I held him tight, my body wrapped around him as we pulsed together. I felt powerful, energized and sexy as hell.
Oh, God, but he was still inside me, moving again now with a power no mortal could ever hope to match. He covered my mouth with his, his fangs lightly scraping across my lips as he tied my hands together with the feather boa. He shoved them over my head, then leaned down to draw one of my nipples into his mouth, using a stray feather to tease the other.
“Jerry!” I gasped, playing along even though I knew I could pull my hands apart without much effort.
“I want the truth now, Gloriana.” He sat up, the strength of him throbbing inside me as he reached down to slide that feather down between us. “Did you or did you not dance topless in Las Vegas?”
“I—I don’t remember.” Truth. At this point, it was all I could do to remember my own name.
“Not an answer I’ll accept, lass.” He ran the feather down one of my thighs, then dropped it to pull me tighter against him. He slid out of me until he was a mere inch from leaving me altogether. “Yes? Or no?” He eased back inside but not nearly deep enough to satisfy me.
I raised my bound arms and leaned up to loop them around his neck. I ran the feathers close to his ears and grinned to see him give an involuntary shiver. Hah! Jerry doing anything involuntarily was a triumph as far as I was concerned.
“Are you jealous, Jeremiah?”
“I don’t like the idea of strangers seeing you half-naked.” He growled and kissed me like he was laying a claim.
I certainly couldn’t complain about that. But we hadn’t been together when I’d lived in Las Vegas. And I’m not the world’s most talented dancer. At five feet five, I’m pretty short by Vegas standards too. So going topless was sometimes the only way I could get work. Jerry wasn’t going to like it, but I wasn’t going to lie to him about this anymore. I had other, more important secrets to keep.
I opened my mind and let him see my answer. He frowned. Then, instead of shoving off of me like I was afraid he would, he leaned down to kiss me with the finesse of a master crafts-man. Which he was and is. I’m a sensual woman and I’m convinced that Jerry had seduced me into becoming vampire all those centuries ago. He’s that good.
When he finally pulled back, he looked down, his face solemn. “I’m sorry, Glory, that you had to demean yourself in that way. I should have provided for your financial security better than that. I’m responsible—”
“Please don’t start this again. I chose the vampire life. I get the consequences. I managed. Will always manage. And it wasn’t demeaning. It was liberating.” I reached up and smoothed the frown lines between his dark brows. “Can we drop it now? A few moments ago I was having a fine time. Even thinking about a big finish before someone else bursts in here and demands to use this room. What do you think, big guy? Got one more round in you?”