Fangs for Nothing(56)

“More than I care to consider.”

“I’m sorry that you got wrapped up in all this, Lizette, I honestly am.” He was. He didn’t dig that they’d been drugged. He could only imagine how she must feel.

“Thank you. Though you aren’t ultimately responsible for what happened at the wedding reception.”

“It was my fault you were there. You were tracking me down.”

“Good point. So you need to make it up to me.” She leaned on the counter, the front of her blouse gaping a little, her tongue slipping across her lush lower lip.

Holy hell, she was flirting with him. He liked it.

“I can forward your vibrator to you when it arrives.” Johnny grinned, pouring rum into two glasses while Lizette blushed. “But that’s for next week. Tonight, I can think of even better ways I can make it up to you.”

“Is that so?” She propped her chin up with her hand and gazed out at him from under her thick lashes. “You will need to prove it to me.”

She had no idea who she was challenging. Johnny may not have been well educated or rich, but there were three things he prided himself on—his boxing, his drumming, and his sexual skill. Since he had no intention of punching Lizette and he was off work for the next three nights, he would have to make sure the final one counted. “I can do that.” He lifted the drink to her mouth. “Take a taste.”

Most women would insist on taking the glass from him, but she didn’t. She let him tilt the glass and she opened her mouth willingly, tilting her head to let the drink easily slide back down her throat. Johnny waited for her to hold her hand up or move her head away, but she didn’t, so when the glass was half empty he pulled it back, impressed. She licked the moisture off her lips.

“Mmm,” she said. “That’s tasty.”

“Let me see.” Johnny reached out and flicked his tongue across her bottom lip, the sweetness of the juice and the tang of the rum light notes to the heavy syrup of the blood he had added. It was delicious. Just like her.

He took a swallow straight from the glass, then offered her the rest. She willingly drank it.

“It’s making me warm,” she told him.

Her cheeks had gained color instantly, going from the smooth marble of her vampire complexion to a more human peachy cream. She was still alabaster and unflawed, but with a hint of color to her cheeks and her neck. The tops of her breasts, which were revealed when her blouse shifted with her movements, looked warm and healthy, a vein visible and pumping her sweet blood with hypnotic vigor.

“Where are you warm?” he asked her, taking his finger and tracing it across that blue trail beneath her flesh.

“It seems to be settling in my hands and between my thighs.”

Again, he had to say he loved her honesty. Johnny’s cock tightened in his jeans. “Not a bad place to feel warm.”

“Not at all.”

Johnny kissed her, still letting her rest on her hand while he took her mouth, his eyes drifting closed. She sighed against his lips. When he pulled back, she stood up and dropped her hands from her chin.

“Is this going to be a challenge with these handcuffs on?”

“No.” In fact, he found it arousing.

“I suppose I cannot remove my blouse.”

Oh, no. He was not about to settle for Lizette half-dressed. He wanted to see every inch of her bared out for him. “I can fix that.” Reaching back, he pulled a knife out of a drawer. He didn’t use it for cooking, but the apartment had come furnished and sometimes it came in handy. Like right now.

Her eyes widened. “You cannot be serious. It will ruin my blouse.”

“Your blouse is already ruined. There is no way you’ll be able to dry-clean the blood out of it.”

“But what will I wear after?” But then Lizette shook her head. “Never mind. I did not say that. I’m going to be spontaneous. I am going to enjoy the moment and not worry about the consequences. It will be good for my soul, yes?”

She looked so earnest, so nervous, that Johnny leaned down and kissed her gently, his own emotional response a little puzzling to him. How was it that he could want to protect Lizette and pound the hell out of her with his cock all at the same time? It seemed weird to want to have rough sex with someone and yet cuddle with her before and after. But that was how he felt, and she was clearly experiencing her own sense of mixed feelings and anxiety.

“Yes,” he told her. “It will be good for your soul and your body.” He brushed her hair back off her forehead. “It’s going to be good for mine, too, you know. You make me want to be less of an idiot. More respectable. That’s no small feat.”