Midnight Dream Girls 2: The Scent of Revenge Page 6

  “Hm, that’s pretty funny. I can’t see Brianna hanging out with the gothic type at all. I heard she’s engaged to a medical student who’s getting ready to become a doctor in a few years, and I doubt he’s into that whole Goth scene. But…what was the name you mentioned?” She frowned.

  “Kilo.” He worked to keep his voice modulated, trying hard not to let any angry tones seep through as he said that one hated name.

  “Kilo.” She fell silent for a moment, her gaze seeming very far away, as if she were lost in her own thoughts, then she shook her head. “Strange. I could swear I once had a dream about someone by that name. But I can’t imagine where I would’ve heard it at. It’s not a very ordinary name, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t.” A million questions raced through his mind. She seemed genuine in her response, and he didn’t get the feeling she was holding anything back. But he also knew how vampires worked, and how they could manipulate the human mind. If she thought she might’ve dreamed about Kilo, chances were good she’d actually met him and had her memory of the event altered.

  But she showed no signs of having been turned by a vampire, and after his decade of tracking down vamps, he recognized the signs. The way their eyes flashed unnaturally, like an animal’s in the light sometimes, and how humans were instinctively drawn to their vampire charms like moths to the flame. It explained why the Midnight Saloon had become such a hot spot once Brianna Cochoran had taken it over, and might even explain in part or whole the strange story he’d dug up surrounding the current owner’s “acquisition” of the business from its previous late owner. According to police reports, Mr. MacKenzie, had died of apparent heart failure just a few hours after signing over the title of ownership to Ms. Cochoran. Funny how he’d seemed to be mysteriously short on blood at the time of death.

  After spending the last few nights at the saloon, Jonathan had no doubt that at least one of the rumors about the bar was true. Its owner was most certainly a vampire. Now, whether she’d been turned by his quarry, the infamous Kilo, was still in question.

  And after the few bits of info Morgan had dropped during tonight’s conversation, he’d confirmed that yet another rumor about the Midnight Saloon was true. One of its Midnight Dream Girls dancers, the blonde named Pamela Jones, apparently had recently become a vampire, too.

  His blood raced. He was getting closer to Kilo, he just knew it. Two vampires, one or both, possibly turned by Kilo. If the rest of the rumors were also correct, then Kilo had a real addiction either to the bar or its owner. Like a mosquito unable to resist the light of a bug zapper, maybe Kilo couldn’t resist the pull of the Midnight Saloon. If that were the case, then he was sure to show his nasty fangs around the place sooner or later. And when he did, Jonathan would be right there waiting for him.

  “What’s the smile for?” Morgan asked, pulling him back to the here and now with a jerk.

  He searched for an answer. “Oh, just full and happy, I guess. Would you like anything else to eat?”

  She shook her head with a smile. “No, thanks. I’m stuffed. I couldn’t even finish my pancake.”

  Idly, Jonathan cocked his head sideways and studied her hands resting on the chrome and white Formica table. Unable to resist, he traced the outlines of her fingers, liking their feminine, narrow width and how her undecorated nails barely reached the ends of her fingertips.

  “You don’t get manicures or those fake nails, do you?” he murmured, feeling like he was playing with an electrical socket. Every time he’d touched her over the past week, he’d received a tiny jolt of electricity. Rather than doubting its existence, he preferred to test the chemistry a little more, to see just how strong a current their skin could produce together. Could they light up a light bulb, like those experiments he’d done as a kid with electrical wires, plugs, and fruit?

  He also liked how even her fingers seemed unable to stop responding to his touch, slightly shifting towards his when he removed his hand.

  He tasted again the tequila, flavored with her skin and the lavender scented depths of her navel, and wondered what her mouth would taste like. His gaze searched and found hers, seeking and finding every nuance that suggested she felt the same way about him. Her pupils dilated and her lips parted slightly, her breaths turning a little breathy and increasing in pace. He was also having a tough time controlling his own breathing.

  Holding eye contact, he slowly lifted her hand to his mouth, giving her every opportunity to pull away if she wanted. But her hand followed without hesitation until her syrup scented fingers were pressed to his mouth. Smiling and feeling naughty, he let his tongue flick out to taste her fingertips. Sweet syrup tantalized his taste buds. She inhaled sharply, making him want to cover her mouth with his and chase that gasp with his tongue.

  He wanted her, despite his plan, regardless of wanting to track down Kilo. For the first time in a decade, he really didn’t give a shit about vampires or rumors or anything else. He just wanted Morgan.

  With his free hand, he dug into his back pocket for his wallet, pulled out a wad of bills by feel alone, and left them on the table. Then he slid out from the booth and tugged her to her feet.

  “Jonathan, I…”

  He liked the way she said his name.

  “The money…” she whispered again, gesturing weakly at the bills on the table beside them.

  He quickly threw some more on the table. “That should cover it.”

  “No, I meant…I think that’s too much for our tab.” She smiled fully at him now, but if she was laughing at him, he didn’t care.

  He led her out of the diner using his peripheral vision alone, afraid to look away from her, fearful she might not follow him if he looked away for even a second. This was how the vamps did it, right? Never lose eye contact with their prey, charm them right into their killer embrace. Maybe it’d work for him tonight. Maybe he could charm her into his arms. Because that’s where he needed her.

  He wanted privacy for their first kiss, but couldn’t wait any longer. Just outside the front door of the diner on the sidewalk, he cupped her face, asking her without words if she wanted this, too.

  She gave him the tiniest of nods, and it was all he needed.

  She tasted like syrup and butter, sweet and soft, hot and moist around his tongue. Her own tongue responded to every movement, sliding against his even as her hands slid up his chest and her arms wrapped around his neck.

  Like a blind man he reached behind him, found the diner wall, and leaned against it. She leaned with him, gently pressing the full length of her soft curves against him, driving him mad. He cupped her ass, so tightly encased within worn denim that’d been driving him nuts for days now, and pressed her harder against him. He wanted her to feel how much she turned him on, and how badly he wanted her right now. Whatever happened next would be up to her.

  “My room’s right next door,” he mumbled against her lips, taking the chance to nip and tease their fullness with his teeth.

  “Huh?” Her eyes opened, confused, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear her vision.

  “I’m staying in the hotel next door. Over there,” he released her ass just long enough to vaguely wave to the right. Then he reclaimed his handhold, sliding his hands around to hold her hips. The tips of his thumbs slipped up under the bottom edge of her shirt so he could touch her bare skin at her waist.

  “Okay.”

  He lifted his head so he could see her entire face. “Okay?” Wanting to know if she understood and agreed.

  “Mm hm.” She stepped away from him, took his hands, and looked at him solemnly.

  “Okay, meaning yes, you agree? Or yes, let’s go?” He had to be sure, absolutely sure she knew what she was doing.

  “Yes. Let’s go.”

  Feeling like the time he’d thrown a fifty-two yard pass for a touchdown during his senior year of high school football, Jonathan grinned and scooped her up in his arms. Maybe if he carried her across the parking lot to his room, she wouldn’t have time to
change her mind.

  He tried to wait until they reached the room, really he did, but only made it halfway across the parking lot before he had to stop and kiss her again. With his hands and arms busy holding her, he had no way to stop her hands from burying themselves in his hair. Then again, he didn’t want to anyway. But damn, if she kept stroking and kneading the back of his neck like that, he’d be sorely tempted to take her in the damn parking lot.

  At the back glass exit door, he set her down long enough to grab the keycard from his wallet, swipe it through the security lock, and yank the door open. Then he picked her up again and carried her down the too long hallway to room 221. He set her down again, jammed the card into the lock, pulled it out, and pulled her to him for another kiss while leaning against the door, expecting it to push open.

  It didn’t budge. Then again, he didn’t really care, not with the way she’d caught his upper lip with her teeth and tugged. He could only imagine what that mouth would feel like on his painfully engorged dick.

  “Uh, Jonathan,” she whispered against his mouth before ducking her head to press soft kisses against the side of his throat and driving him to groan.

  “Yeah, that’s it, baby, say my name again. Damn, you make it sound sexy.” He closed his eyes so he could better concentrate on what her mouth was doing, circling around his neck to trail kisses down the opening of his shirt.

  “Jonathan, the door…”

  “Huh?” Dimly he realized they were still in the hallway and the door behind him had yet to yield from their combined weight. Hadn’t he unlocked it?

  He reached behind him, fumbled around with the card, then finally found the lock and tried reinserting the card.

  “Jonathan, this is room 221,” she whispered, glancing at the card and then him with a smile.

  He frowned. “Yeah, so why isn’t it opening?”

  Laughing outright at him now, she took the card and held it up a few inches from his nose. “This card is for room 212.”

  Growling low in his chest, Jonathan grabbed her by her hips and turned her around. “All right, woman. You lead the way.”

  He kept his hands on her hips, liking the way they swayed beneath his touch as she walked ahead of him. Besides, the view was pretty good with her taking the lead. She stopped a few doors down, used the card to unlock the door, and opened it.

  “Wa-lah,” she proclaimed with a cheeky looking grin over her shoulder at him.

  “Smart ass,” he muttered with a grin, nudging her into the room with his hands around her waist. The door automatically shut on whisper-quiet hinges, plunging them into darkness.

  “Finally,” he grumbled. “Thought I was going to have to lay you down in the parking lot.”

  He heard her low laughter, felt her breath against his neck just before her body pressed to his. Thank God for noses, he thought, using the tip of his to find hers so he could reclaim her mouth. What in hell was in her kisses anyways? The more he got of them, the more he wanted.

  His hands slid up her back to her neck, and he buried them in her long silky hair. But it wasn’t enough. There were too many layers of clothing between them. He wanted to kiss every part of her beautiful body, to make every inch of her his.

  She must’ve read his mind, because he felt her hands unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Too slow,” he mumbled against her mouth, yanking the shirt open amidst the sound of ripping buttons and peeling it off him in one movement.

  “But…your shirt!” she gasped.

  Women and clothes, he thought. “I’ve got a million of them.”

  Then he felt her hands fumbling with the waistband of his jeans, repeatedly brushing his dick, and he nearly came. Hissing, he pulled her hands away and peeled her tight little top off her body.

  She was shorter than he, with her head barely reaching his jaw. He bent low, trailing kisses down her throat to the cleavage that had left him aching and unable to sleep all week. He filled his hands with her lush breasts, which were covered in some sort of scrappy lace, then took one covered pebble into his mouth and sucked hard. His tongue drew circles around the nipple, loving how it responded to his every stroke. He shifted to the other one, wetting its lace covering with his mouth and tongue, then gently tested its round firmness with his teeth until she gasped and quivered in his hands.

  He managed to get her jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, but had to stop and take a deep, steadying breath before unwrapping the rest of her. Damn, he was acting like some kind of virgin here, about to come in his pants just taking off her jeans! Finesse, Jonathan, use some skill here.

  Regaining a little control, Jonathan slowly tugged her jeans down to her ankles, then looked up at her. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now, allowing him to see her in the glow of the parking lot lights through the window’s drawn curtains. Damn, the way she looked at him was beautiful.

  “Morgan, hold onto me and lift your foot.”

  She hesitated only briefly before gripping his shoulders while giving him her right foot. He pulled off her boot and sock, set her foot down, then nudged her other foot with his hands so he could remove her other boot and sock as well. Her socks were soaked, a testament to just how hard she’d worked tonight.

  “Oh lord, I forgot. My feet, they’re going to be…all wrinkly,” she said, her voice thick with embarrassment.

  Jonathan smiled up at her, although he wasn’t sure she could see his expression until she gave him a hesitant smile. “You work hard. You shouldn’t be embarrassed by that.”

  He helped her out of her jeans, then rose up on his knees on the industrial carpeted floor and let his hands glide up every inch of her hard, muscular legs. A dancer’s legs, he reminded himself, relishing how her thigh muscles trembled beneath his touch.

  She grabbed the sides of his head and tried to pull him to his feet, but he shook his head no. “No, baby, just let me appreciate you for a minute.”

  Her fingers stilled within his hair. He pressed his cheek to her thigh, heard the rasp of his beard stubble against her smooth skin, and jerked his head back. “Damn, sorry, forgot about that. I should go shave.”

  “No, please…I kind of like it.”

  Groaning, he pressed his mouth to the softness of her inner right thigh while his hands cupped and kneaded the backs of both legs. She had to be so sore and tired after being on her feet dancing and working all night long. He hadn’t missed how many times she’d had to bend and squat while serving drinks. Though at the time, he’d only been appreciating the view, not thinking about the exertion her body was going through.

  “Lie down, Morgan, relax,” he whispered, guiding her toward the bed until she sat down on the mattress with a sigh. No doubt a sigh of pleasure at finally getting to take a load off, he thought.

  Still on his knees, he slid one palm up her leg, over her hip, then across her tummy to the center of her chest and gently pushed her backwards until she reclined on the bed, her legs draped off its end. Perfect. Easing her knees apart, he kissed his way up the fronts of her legs, pausing briefly at the waistline of her panties until her trembling increased. Yeah, she was ready for this.

  “Those damn body shots…do you know how much you tortured me with them, how much I wanted to do this?” He mumbled against her lower abdomen just below her navel.

  She gripped his head with shaky hands. “You were tortured? Ha. I was the one having to stick that cold glass down my pa-ahh…”

  Her sentence trailed off on a sigh as his nose nuzzled its way down over her panties, and down between her legs, over the mound of her pubic bone, to the part of the satiny material that was damp with moisture from her pussy. Oh, she was so ready. Or, at least her body was. Hopefully her heart and mind were, too.

  She smelled so good; mysterious and sweet, like an as-yet un-tasted fruit from some exotic origin, imported just for him. Her legs parted further, making him smile. After pulling her panties down her long legs, he pressed a kiss to her clit, then puckered his lips and sucked on the r
ipening bud. Dimly he heard her cry out his name, but his mind was focused solely on exploring the mysteries of her pussy, so wet it practically begged for him to lick up every drop of moisture. He used his nose to part her curls, liking how she’d left a strip of hair along her labia. Nothing worse than an unnaturally bare pussy, in his opinion. His tongue daringly circled her clit, first counterclockwise, then clockwise, in slow, lazy strokes, causing her to hum and moan with pleasure. Her fingers fisted in his hair, tugging on his scalp uncontrollably, driving him to dive his tongue into her pussy and stroke her.

  Her hips arched within his hands and her lower legs drew up to wrap around his back. He took this as a strong sign that he was doing right and increased the speed of his tongue within her, fucking her with it just like his cock was demanding to do. She cried out his name again, sounding close to the edge of release, then moaned long and low as she came around his tongue and beneath his hips.

  He slowly laved her clit until her shudders subsided and her grip on his hair relaxed. Then he stood up, tugged off his boots by leaning against the front of the desk while balancing on each foot, then slowly stripped off his jeans while studying her. Sprawled across his hotel bed still wearing her dark colored bra, she was the essence of his erotic fantasies. As he stripped down to his boxer briefs, then removed them as well, she rose up on one elbow, presenting him with a perfect view of the curve of her hip and the dip of her waist. Just looking at her made his dick throb harder.

  Jonathan approached the bed and was surprised when she rolled up onto her knees before him. Wordlessly she smiled while her hands firmly wrapped their soft heat around his cock, making his legs shake. Then she took him in her mouth, driving a long groan out of him, and what little blood remained in his brain shot straight down to his dick. Now it was his turn to grip her head and fill his hands with her silky hair. He forced himself to hold her gently, letting her be in control as her moist puckered lips pressed against the head of cock, then parted just enough to wrap around him and grant him entry into her mouth.