The Vampire Queen's Servant(33)

Or perhaps he did need some help.

As she closed in on him, stepping into the store, she slipped her hands in her back pockets to enhance the sway of her hips as she walked. It pushed the jeans down low enough that her hip bones were revealed in the front.

Her eyelashes didn't even flicker as a male sales associate tripped over a display and went sprawling within ten feet of her.

"Oh." The girl left Jacob with a word of apology and hurried to help her coworker with the wrecked display and his bruised dignity.

Jacob barely acknowledged her, his eyes all on Lyssa as she approached. She'd noted he'd registered her entry the moment she'd stepped over the threshold. His mouth had twitched at the sales associate's reaction.

"Something you needed, my lady?" Despite their disguises, she hadn't encouraged him to call her anything else, so he kept his tone low on the address, giving his voice that sensual cadence.

She could tell he was smart enough to be wary. Male enough he couldn't keep his eyes off the low ride of the waistband, the jut of her unbound breasts beneath the kitten T-shirt.

"I decided to come in and help. Choosing belts?"

The trousers and shirts he intended to purchase lay over his arm, apparently retrieved when he came back in the store. "Do you have a preference?" he asked. He already had his hand on one, a simple black strap with a silver buckle, handsome but not overly ornamental. Very much to the taste of the man. Pursing her lips, she picked up one studded with pewter stars at two inch intervals on a wider strap. A look of alarm crossed his face as his grip tightened on the belt he'd originally chosen.

"My lady, I'm not certain if that style is my—"

She wondered how he would feel if she ordered him to wear women's clothes in public. There were so many ways a vampire could torment her servant.

Considering, she cocked her head, surveying the store. There was a married couple several feet away. The two store clerks were restoring the display. A group of teenagers clustered around the discount sales rack at the back of the store.

At the sound of a loud crack, they all turned, scanning the store and the walking area out in front.

Someone with a gift for recalling details might have remembered that the beautiful young woman casually standing with her boyfriend by the belts had held one of them loosely by the buckle in the opposite hand only a blink earlier.

They might also remember the man hadn't been standing rigid, his teeth clenched as if someone had just punched him in the jaw. Or as if he were ready to strangle someone.



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Chapter Nineteen





Lyssa released the tongue of the doubled-over belt with pewter stars, letting it dangle along the line of her thigh. "Son of a…" Jacob closed his eyes, a veritable flood of fire writhing across his left buttock where she'd struck him with it. He swore the imprint of those pewter stars would be tattooed there for all time. If he hadn't been wearing the jeans, he'd be sure of it.

Her jade eyes watched his every expression as he fought not to clamp his hand over his ass like a chastised three-year-old about to wail. Sliding the other belt out of his hand, she took them and the clothes he held over to the male salesclerk. "We want both of these," Lyssa said. She returned to Jacob's side and slid her hand into his back pocket, finding the wallet holding her credit cards and his own. His lips pressed together as she caressed the part of him she'd abused. She had to struggle against the desire to cup her other hand over the generous package of testicles and cock brushing against her thigh, separated only by two thin layers of denim. She wanted to feel him harden under her touch while his ass stung from her punishment.

"I used less effort to do that than you use to breathe, Jacob," she observed. "Think I can't handle myself?"

"I don't know. Breathing is not easy at the moment, my lady."

"Let me make it harder then." Slipping in front of him, she rose on her toes and captured his lips. "Double entendre intended."

His response was immediate. Banding his arms around her, he brought her full against his body, his lengthening cock rubbing insistently over her abdomen. Nipping at her, he muttered a curse into her mouth. She curled her fingers in his hair, tugged hard.

It was the salesclerk's question that had Jacob blinking, breaking free of the kiss.

"Is there anything else you need?"

Lyssa startled him by making a little hop and wrapping her legs around his waist with lithe strength, settling her crotch and ass right on his groin. She increased the pressure there by leaning back to the full reach of her arms with her hands on his shoulders. Dropping her head back, she looked at the mural of clouds painted on the store ceiling.

"Flying clothes, made to look like birds. Interesting."

She was certainly in a mood.

"Does it look like I need anything else?" Jacob asked.

The salesman grinned. Lyssa reeled herself back up and whispered in his ear. Jacob sighed, brushing his cheek against hers as he held her with one arm around her back.

"Socks. I do need two pairs of black dress socks. Thank you, my lady." He brought his attention back to her. "You're not going to make me wear that belt."

"No." Her expression was feline, the green eyes glowing. "I like the one you picked out. I like the other one for other reasons."

"That what I'm afraid of."

"Just think of it this way. Instead of being angry about having to stand behind my chair for dinner, now you'll be grateful you don't have to sit. Don't you ever pinch my ass again." With that, she unhooked her legs and slid down his body. Wiggling free, she wandered back out of the store without a backward glance, torturing him with the swiveling sight of her tight, entirely pinchable ass.

He was beginning to understand it did no good to ponder how she could piss a man off and make him rock hard at the same time. It was a gift far surpassing a man's understanding. When he rejoined her outside, she scampered ahead, stopping at a cluster of children watching a double-level carousel. When she looked over her shoulder at him, it took his breath. The way the straight hair of the wig fluttered back and feathered revealed the dangling earrings he'd chosen for her. They pattered against her delicate neck, drawing his attention to the curve of ear as well as the mystery of what expression her sunglasses hid.

Thomas had said his lady had a wicked sense of humor, a rapier wit that could cut someone down to size in a moment, but he'd never hinted at this playfulness. Had he uncovered a side Thomas hadn't known about? Ground they'd never shared together? The idea gave him a ridiculous rush of pleasure.

He snapped out of that self-indulgent thought when he noted the sales associate's attention to her was being mirrored by many other men in the mall. She didn't tend to blend, his lady, and it reminded him his primary responsibility was protecting her anonymity.

When he reached her, he put an arm around her shoulders, imitating the many pairs of college students and teenagers they'd seen moving in the flood of people around them.

His lady was quick. After a contemplative moment where he felt her narrowed gaze upon him, even through the shaded glasses, she lifted her left hand to his on her shoulder, linking their fingers loosely so their hands were joined in a suggestive arch over the top of her breast. Sliding her other arm around his waist, she hooked her thumb in his waistband, the tips of her fingers in the top of his back pocket, squeezing the area she'd so recently abused.

"You after my wallet again?"

She slanted him a glance. "I've had you thoroughly investigated, Jacob Green. As of Monday morning, you had a grand total of eighteen hundred and twelve dollars and six cents in your savings account, nine hundred and two dollars and thirteen cents in your checking account. You live paycheck to paycheck, with no long-term savings or investment plan, a ridiculous way for a thirty-year-old man to live."

"I'm not quite thirty. Plus I'm working this gig to become the kept servant of a rich vampire. That should take care of me for the next three centuries or so."

When he'd helped her with her makeup earlier, he'd wet her lips with cherry lip gloss. He realized that had been a mistake, because when she smiled he smelled it and wanted to lick it off. He resisted the urge to get close, brush his lips along her temple, the fair cheek, but he couldn't stop his thumb from tracing a discreet line along the top of her breast under the linked bridge of their hands.

"A gold digger. My rose garden is fertilized by the bodies of men after my money."

"And beautiful roses they are. Would you like to ride this, my lady? It's slowing down."

"Which horse do I want to ride?"

"The black one," he said automatically. With that mysteriously satisfied smile, she darted through the turnstile, sliding her grip to his hand so she yanked him onto the platform with her. Putting his bag of purchases down on a bench flanked by two swans, he placed his hands on her waist to lift her onto the black horse, which had stopped on the upward rise. "Since levitating would cause too much attention," he pointed out.

She kept her grip on one of his shoulders. "I think you use any excuse to touch me."

"Every excuse and any situation I can create," he agreed. "There's a midnight movie here. A vampire cult classic, Fright Night. I'll take you if you promise to throw yourself in my arms at the scary parts."

She laughed, such a powerfully seductive note it reached out and turned the head of every man within hearing distance. Not wanting to do anything to ruin this carefree side of her nature, nevertheless he stepped closer, helping her guide her leg over the horse's withers. He kept his tone light, careful.