Fangs for Nothing(69)

Drake headed directly toward that room, not acknowledging the other doors as he passed them. Josie Lynn was no cop or detective. She wasn’t even that good at Clue, but she was pretty sure they should be checking every room just in case. She didn’t want to get it with the candlestick in the conservatory by Bob Mackie Cher.

“Aren’t you even going to check the other rooms?” she whispered.





         Chapter Thirteen

BENNY AND CHER

LIZETTE severely resented the fact that men claimed women were complicated. They were the ones who changed their minds with no warning or logic and who seemed terrified of just speaking the truth.

Five minutes earlier Johnny had been slowly and skillfully kissing her, and sounding very sincere in saying that he liked her, and wanted her to stay with him for a few days. She had been flattered and intrigued by the idea of spending time with him, and so she’d said yes. Then his mood had immediately changed, and he had just about dragged her out of the apartment, insisting they get the cuffs cut off, with an urgency previously unseen. She had actually thought he’d been somewhat enjoying their enforced togetherness. But not so now.

He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, and had practically begged to stop for a drink without any warning whatsoever. How could he go from purring contentment to skittish without any apparent trigger? It was a mystery to her, and she instantly lost a bit of the contented mood that she had been feeling. Was that what he had done? Changed his mind? Regretted his suggestion for her to stay with him?

Had he just been hoping for oral sex after all?

Now she wanted a drink as well. Bastard. She had never felt particularly concerned about her attractiveness or her lovemaking skills, and yet for some reason Johnny made her doubt herself. Made her want to please him, including taking him into her mouth. The very idea made her blush, as she had been so trained to think of it as crass, but she had thought he would like it. She had trusted him with the truth, but now she was feeling uncertain. Which was frustrating in the extreme, and she vowed not to let it get the best of her. She was not insecure, and she was not going to let some fickle vampire who faked his own death make her feel inadequate in any way.

She realized it was the same bar they had met in the other evening when she had been showing him the list. Funny how then she had been so sure of herself and her professionalism. Now she had just made love to him on the floor and she still wasn’t wearing underwear. But oddly, she didn’t feel particularly upset about it. Well, she wasn’t entirely comfortable not wearing panties, but that had nothing to do with Johnny. She had reconciled herself to the fact that she must have slept with him because she liked him, and that was perfectly acceptable. She was owed vacation time, so there was no reason she couldn’t resign from this case and spend a few days with Johnny.

After canceling the lingerie and vibrator orders. Speaking of which, she should do that soon. They sat down at the bar, the same bartender from the other night waving to them. Lizette ordered a glass of wine and crossed her legs while Johnny looked everywhere but at her, his fingers drumming on the ancient wooden bar.

“Is that Cher?” she asked him, eyeing a woman bent over with a pool stick. Her legs were a mile long, her skirt extremely short. Her companion was a muscular young guy wearing a very prominent cross on his chest.

“You know who Cher is?” Johnny asked her.

“Everyone knows who Cher is.” She suspected every woman secretly wished that when she turned sixty she would magically morph into Cher. That wasn’t Lizette’s desire, as she would never have the kind of showmanship that Cher displayed, nor did she aspire to that, but she did admire her ability to ignore everyone else’s opinions of her. “I believe that is her Bob Mackie look, given the headdress she’s wearing.”

“Sweetheart, that’s not Cher. It’s not even a woman.”

“What?” Lizette stared a little harder. “That’s a man?” It didn’t look like a man. There was no . . . hair. Well, there was plenty of hair on her/his head but not on her silky-smooth legs.

“I think he was at the wedding last night.” Johnny stood up. “Wait, is that Benny? Nigel,” he called to the bartender. “Is that Benny with Cher over there?”

“The one and only. Benny, not Cher. There is definitely more than one of her running around this town.”

Feeling like there was an inside joke she was not privy to, Lizette studied the duo at the pool table. “Who is Benny?” Lizette asked.

“He’s a stripper who works at the gay club, and he’s friends with my sister. I should say hi. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”