Kim Harrison - Hotter Than Hell

“I’m not going to starve,” he responded.

“What do you have at your place if you get hungry later?” she asked logically. “Frozen dinners? Soup and crackers? I make very good spaghetti.”

“I wish you would be honest with me,” he said, a touch of anger coloring his voice. There was a pleasant melodiousness to his voice, she decided, even when he was mad. “Something strange is going on here. There was never any earring in the hallway, there was no noise from my apartment, and I’ve never heard of any Southern Women’s Code. I think yesterday you were following me, and tonight you were snooping.”

“I’m not…”

He moved in very close and placed one finger over her lips. “I talk, you listen. You’re much more transparent than you intend to be.”

Claire couldn’t move. Somehow he held her in place with that one finger on her mouth, and with his eyes. His magical, mesmerizing, unbelievably dark eyes. Her heart beat too hard. He knew that she’d discovered his secret, and now he was going to kill her. This time when he lowered his head he was going to bite down on her neck and feed and that would be the end of everything for her.

Claire Murphy was found dead in her apartment. The body was discovered by a nosy neighbor, Mrs. Iris Tillman, who was bothered by the gross smell. Miss Murphy has no family and she will not be missed by anyone. Oh, and by the way, it seems someone had taken all her blood, but who cares?

“Maybe I am transparent,” she whispered, angry at the knowledge that she could die here and now and no one would care. “You didn’t seem to mind a few minutes ago.”

“No, I didn’t mind at all. I’ve been dreaming about getting you in that particular position for weeks. I’ve been dreaming about more, Claire. To be honest, I’ve been watching you since I moved in,” he said in a lowered voice. “There’s no boyfriend, and you’re in bed every night very early and very alone.”

“If you work at night how do you…”

“Shhh,” he ordered gently. “I know. I’ve also known all along that if I touched you just right you’d come apart, and you did. Before tonight, when was the last time you came, Claire Murphy?”

She swallowed hard before answering half-heartedly, “Does it count if I was alone at the time?”

“No. That most definitely doesn’t count.”

“Hey, wait,” she said indignantly. “ You’ve been stalking me! ”

“Just a little.”

Claire was frozen in place as Simon lowered his head to her neck. His lips pressed there at the place where neck became shoulder, and a rush of sensation shot through her. She shouldn’t be so easy, what had happened in his apartment aside. Her insides clenched and her knees went weak, and all he had done was lay his mouth on her throat. The kiss was gentle, and yet it made her feel as if she were melting.

“I know what you want, Claire Murphy,” he whispered against her flesh, “and it isn’t spaghetti or a fictional earring.” His hand slipped beneath her shirt and raked against her back until he found her bra clasp and very easily unhooked it. “I want the same thing you do. I have since I first saw you in the hallway, more than a month ago. Does that surprise you? It surprises me. I don’t normally want things I shouldn’t have. I learned better long ago.”

How long?

Claire wanted to believe that what had driven her to suspect her neighbor of horrible crimes and unnatural abilities was nothing more complicated than her overactive imagination combined with the need to be touched and an undeniable attraction, which was apparently reciprocated. Her reasons for suspecting Simon of being an unnatural being were loneliness, boredom, and the craving for what he was offering her at this very moment, as he removed her tangled blouse and bra and tossed them to the floor.

He lowered her to the sofa. This time there would be more than a heated sexual moment that came and went too quickly. This time they would be naked and he would be inside her, and…oh, my. His mouth was warm on her breasts, and vampires were not warm. They were dead and cold. Unless they’d just fed and he’d picked up something besides flowers while he was out. Simon was not at all cold. In fact, his skin was hot, and she was almost certain she could hear the beat of his heart against her belly, where his chest rested as he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth. She wanted him at her neck again, but certainly didn’t complain. He would return there soon enough, she imagined.

He didn’t move back to her neck, not right away. Instead he unfastened her skirt and began to shimmy it down.

“Not so fast,” she whispered. “Not this time.”

“Trust me, this won’t be fast.”

She found comfort in those words, comfort from this man she had suspected of being a vampire moments earlier. What silly thoughts, thoughts she easily dismissed as he kissed his way down her body, which was naked but for the gold cross she’d taken to wearing. He didn’t seem to mind that tiny piece of gold, which was another point in his favor.

It was not the only point in his favor. Simon Darrow had a fine, sensuous mouth that was determined to explore every inch of her body. Where she was ticklish, where she was sensitive, where she had never been kissed before, he tasted her. He even lifted her leg and kissed her behind the knees, introducing her to an unexpected burst of joy. She felt that surge of joy everywhere, and yes, if he’d touched her where she was wet for him she would’ve come. She would’ve screamed. Again.

It occurred to her, as Simon trailed that lovely mouth very slowly up her inner thigh, that he was still completely dressed. That was so wrong.

“Take off your clothes,” she whispered, her voice raspy and demanding.

He laughed lightly, and his breath was warm against her skin. “Not yet.” He spread her thighs and touched her intimately with his tongue. He flicked his tongue, he teased her with light strokes and flickers, and then he moved in and rasped against her harder, fiercer. Claire came so hard she screamed and her back arched up off the couch. She grabbed Simon’s head and pulled him closer, and he did not fight her but pressed harder and deeper, slipping his tongue inside her as she shook.

And he hadn’t bitten her once.

“You said it would not be fast,” she said breathlessly, delirious and sad, shaking and satisfied, needy and happy.

“It’s not over, Claire,” he promised as he crept up and over her body and finally, once again, placed his mouth at her throat and sucked against that sensitive skin. “Women are wondrous creatures who can come again and again and again in a very short period of time.”

“I’ve heard that’s true,” she said as she turned her head more to the side to allow him the greatest possible access.

He nipped at her skin, but just a little. Naked, entirely vulnerable and recently satisfied, her mind began to work somewhat properly. What if she only imagined that Simon was warm and that his heart beat? That could be part of the spell he had cast on her. Why else would she be so, well, easy? Not that she was complaining. Far from it. In all the books she read vampires were sensuous creatures who wallowed in intense sexual encounters. She certainly felt as if she were wallowing, at the moment.

She no longer thought Simon was a vampire. Not conclusively. There was one other test she could try tonight, just to be certain. The sun had already set so she couldn’t study what happened to him in the daylight, but there was a mirror in her bedroom and if she could just see his reflection in it she’d be satisfied.

Claire took Simon’s head in her hands and drew his wonderful mouth away from her neck. “You have to be at least six foot two, and this sofa isn’t more than five feet long.”