Real Vampires Live Large (Glory St. Clair #2)

Real Vampires Live Large (Glory St. Clair #2) Page 8

“It’s something we can discuss later.” Jerry frowned, picked up his pillow and tossed it on the floor. “That damned dog stinks like smoke. We’ll send him to a groomer in the morning. Louise will take him.”

Jerry’s housekeeper. “Warn her that Valdez isn’t exactly thrilled to go to those places. I took him once, to an all-night place in Vegas. After he finally quit terrifying the staff, he let a female groomer, a cute young thing, bathe him. Then he got the poor girl fired because she accused him of sexual harassment, claimed he talked to her and made, um, lewd propositions while she was bathing him.”

“He won’t do that again or he’ll answer to me. Until he completes his duties to my satisfaction, he knows I won ’t tolerate problems.” Blade watched me closely when I lay back and stretched. Oops, that pesky robe just wouldn’t stay closed. “What kind of lewd propositions?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Bingo. Jerry’s eyes gleamed and he reached for the robe’s tie. “Maybe you can make me talk, with the right method of persuasion.”

“To hell with the dog. I have my own lewd proposition. Starting with you naked.”

“Careful. You’ll spill my drink.” I took a long swallow. “This is the good stuff. I can only afford O positive.”

“I’ll buy you a case of the damned stuff if you put down that glass.”

I grinned when he opened the robe and laid me bare. I sucked in my stomach. Habit and a good habit at that. No matter what Jerry said, a tummy bulge is not sexy. Jerry ran a hand over it, then teased the curls between my legs.

“You look very good to me, lass. But if the Cheetos gave you pain, I say forget about them.” He stroked his hand up to cup one of my breasts.

Easy to forget everything when his hands were on me. He was dressed in a black polo and jeans. Strong, masculine and his smile showed me fangs that had me aching for him. There’s nothing better than sex with a vampire. Take my word for it. Feeding from each other while doing the deed is beyond orgasmic. We’d done a little fang action in his secret garden, but I was always up for a rerun.

“I’m supposed to meet an arson investigator at my shop in an hour.” I drained my glass, set it on the nightstand, then shrugged out of the robe.

“Then we’ll have to hurry.” Jerry ripped his shirt off over his head and then stood. Vamp speed had his jeans off and sailing across the room in less time than you could say hot body. I reached for him and brought him down on top of me. I cradled him between my legs and kissed him. We were comfortable lovers together. But last night had proved, to me anyway, that we still had things to show each other. I nipped his ear with my fangs then flipped him off of me.

“What’s this?” Jerry grinned up at me.

“Roll over.” I gave him a shove and he lay on his stomach, his head on his arms.

“Are you giving me a massage?”

“Huh?” I was a little distracted. Muscular male buns do that to me. Not to mention a strong back that has scars from his warrior days, prevampire. He’d kicked off his shoes and even his feet were sexy. I ran my hands up the backs of his hairy legs, then leaned down to nibble a path up to his backside. His muscles twitched against my tongue. I pushed his legs apart and found those sacs that were firm and warm. I tasted them until he groaned and reached for me.

“Nay, warrior. I would pleasure ye.” The actress in me had always been good with an accent.

“You torture me, lass. I want my hands on you.” No acting from Jerry. He was in pain.

“Forget it. Hold on to the headboard. This is my treat.” I raised his hips and slipped under him. I touched him, stroked him, then pushed my fangs into the sweet spot inside his thigh.

“Good God, Gloriana!” He jerked and I heard the headboard crack.

I tasted his essence, his blood, then his maleness. Before I knew it, he was on top of me in another of his vamp moves, pushing inside me before I offered my neck and he drank. I felt the pull of his mouth all through me. Waves of pleasure curled my toes and had me scoring his back with my nails. By the time we’d collapsed next to each other in a tangle of sheets, I knew I was going to be very late for my date with the arson investigator. And I could not care less.

"Are you ever going to get out of that bed?”

I looked up and met Mara’s gaze. I didn’t bother to erase the dreamy look I probably still had on my face, along with whisker burns . . . Well, you get it and so did she. She dumped a laundry basket on the bed.

“Louise folded your laundry for you.” Mara held up a T-shirt, one of my favorites from the annual Austin Bat Festival. “Are you sure you can fit in this?” She held it up to her B cup chest. “It’ll be quite a stretch.”

I grabbed the robe that had landed on the floor beside the bed and slipped into it. “Give that here. What have you done to my clothes?” The last was a wail. My XL shirt had shrunk to a barely medium.

“I didn’t put this stuff in the dryer.” Mara’s smirk was not attractive. “On hot.”

“Oh, jeez.” I sat on the edge of the bed. I hadn’t exactly been firing on all cylinders the night before. And I’d been paying way too much attention to Blade’s personal equipment and not nearly enough to his laundry equipment.

“Check out the jeans. I’d pay money to see you fit into these.” She tossed my vintage jeans, the well-worn ones that had actually fit like a glove, into my lap.

“I’ll make them fit.” I ignored Valdez’s chuff of amusement. He’d seen me struggle into tight jeans before. Not a pretty picture.

“Where’s Blade?”

“Out.” Mara frowned and sat on the foot of the bed. Obviously Jerry hadn’t deigned to include her in his plans.

“I’ve got to get to the shop. I’m meeting an arson investigator. ” I stood and fished underwear and a bra out of the basket. They hadn’t shrunk, but then a thong doesn’t have much to it anyway. The bra looked a little sad, but the double D industrial strength ones I wore most days could take a lot of punishment.

“Arson. You know it had to be Westwood.” Mara’s hands were fisted on her knees. She had on the kind of low slung skinny jeans I’d have killed to be able to wear and a tank top that almost hit the waist band. Men loved the look. All she needed was a belly ring. But piercings close during vamp sleep. I know, I’ve tried and ain’t that a bitch?

“Yes, probably Westwood.” I started to put my hand on her shoulder, but thought better of it. She is an old, old, old acquaintance. We’d never been friends, because I’m a low class actress type and she’s practically royalty to hear her tell it. But I’ve known her since my first visit to Scotland and Campbell Castle. She and MacTavish had been so in love. And Westwood now sported Mac’s fangs on his trophy necklace.

“Valdez says you and Jerry were talking about Westwood earlier.”

“Talking?” She grimaced at my dog, who sat at her feet as if hoping she ’d actually pet him. Did I mention Mara is gorgeous?

“We were yelling, more like.”

“I know. I hate the hunter too.” I sat next to her on the bed. Not touching. She’d not appreciate that kind of familiarity from an underling. “What are we going to do about it?”

“Jeremiah and I are going to hunt him down. And . . .” Her green eyes shimmered with unshed tears. One crystal drop slid down her porcelain cheek. Of course she cried prettily. I get a red nose and puffy eyes. It’s common among us underlings.

“You have to be careful, Mara. Westwood’s got more money than God and all the latest technology. ” Including a high-tech vamp detector. I hate that thing. I’ve blended with mortals successfully for centuries. And with one blast of his ray gun, the hunter had seen through all my excellent acting skills.

“We’ll be careful. But we will destroy him.” Mara jumped to her feet. All tears had dried up in the heat of her rage. “But not before we make him suffer.”

I watched Valdez scoot out of range when she stomped one foot. Not that Prada sandals could do him much harm.

“Cute shoes.” I’d heard these rants before and Westwood wasn’t the only one richer than God.

“You are so . . . useless.” She gave me a disdainful look and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Low blow.” Valdez jumped up on the bed and nosed my jeans. “These are going to be a challenge.”

“You should have bit her on her skinny ass. She insulted me.” I snatched up the jeans and the rest of what I needed and headed for the bathroom.

“Blade wouldn’t allow me to hurt her.” Valdez stayed on the bed and watched me. “He’s very protective of her.”

“I know.” I leaned against the door jamb. “And she’s right. I am useless.”

“Not true. You saved the day or night on Halloween.” Valdez licked one paw. “You would be nothing but a set of fangs on a necklace right now if you hadn’t distracted Westwood at the critical moment.”

“That was pretty cool.” I’d been inches away from being skewered, but I’d practiced a little self-defense and visualization and actually saved myself. Unfortunately, the ensuing chaos had allowed Westwood to get away from Blade. Jerry had wounded him, but Mara wasn’t ever going to forget that I’d caused Jerry to focus on me instead of Westwood. I was sorry about the guy getting away, but I hadn’t been useless that night.

I looked around. My distraction had involved setting a fire. Hey, I could start something right now, just to prove I still had it in me. Forget the bed—brass, and I’d developed a real fondness for it.

“Blade’s not gonna like it if you set his stuff on fire, Blondie. Besides, I for one never want to smell smoke again.”

Valdez snorted and licked his other paw.

I sniffed. Thanks to my sensitive nose, I didn’t have to be close to realize Valdez reeked. “You’re going to the groomer in the morning. You’d better behave.”