Читать книгу Immortal Desire - Denise Tompkins - Страница 8

Chapter Two

Bailey wiped sweat from her brow. The last two hours had been a blur of bar patrons, strobe lights and that ever-present thump of bass. Every song seemed designed to heighten her arousal. The smell of sex permeated the air, hanging there, mixing with the thin haze of smoke so that every breath teased and tortured.

Cut the crap. You can’t smell sex. But she could. It was dark and sensual, slightly spicy and full of promise. She wanted to roll around in it, coat herself in those unspoken promises and find a way to unlock the Orgasm Express. The idea of riding that train brought back thoughts of Griff, naked, face buried between her thighs. Yeah, he’d definitely drive that train. “Choo-choo,” she whispered. A small smile crooked one corner of her mouth, and she absently traced her upper lip with her tongue.

“You okay, lady?” The guy across the bar eyed her speculatively. “Looks like you could use some company. I’ll volunteer.”

“Keith, take over.” Griff’s voice cut through the din. “My office, Bailey. Now.” He turned and stalked away, shoving through the swinging door that led to the back.

“Shit.” Bailey ripped off her apron and tossed it in the bin beneath the counter.

Keith glanced her way as he pulled a beer. “Sounds like you’re in for it.”

“Sounds like that’s the case.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” She moved toward the door to the back and, with every step, fought the urge to run. But would she run toward Griff or away from him? The answer drove her through the doorway and down the hall. Her breath came in hard draws and harsh exhales. The silk of her bra rubbed her nipples, tightening them until they hurt. Every sway of her hips rubbed the seam of her jeans against her clit until she struggled not to detour to the supply closet and try, one more time, to make herself come.

“Inside,” Griff called out, his deep voice reeling her in.

The smell of sex, thick and decadent, assaulted her the instant she slipped through the door.

“Close it.”

No request, just the command. She kicked the heavy door shut with her heel. Despite her wariness, something about Griff’s tone encouraged her to purr and rub against his body. The images that followed were definitely not anywhere within the sphere of employer-employee relations.

“Lock it.”

Her chin jerked up. “What?”

He moved around his desk and towered over her. “I said, ‘Lock it.’”

She turned and laid a hand on the lock, stunned when he stepped in close and settled his hands on her hips.

He leaned down and rested his lips against her ear. “Now, Bailey.”

“I—”

“Now.” The deep growl in his voice said there would be no arguing, only submission.

Involuntarily arching her back, she ground against his cock. Shock froze her mid-grind.

“That’s what I thought was going on.” His hands tightened and pulled her closer.

Bailey groaned at the sensation, at the heat pouring off his body. And that smell. Sex. Pure sex. Stronger now than ever. Her mind raced through every raw fantasy that involved her boss. She wanted him, craved his nearness, coveted his touch. “Griff, please.”

“Please what, baby?” His deep voice rumbled through her back.

“I need...” She shuddered, unwilling to place her well-being in his hands. Trust was hard, mistrust easy. Life had proven that she shouldn’t, couldn’t, count on anyone but herself.

Strong hands distracted her. Fingers feathered over her hips and up, under her shirt, across her belly. Flat palms pressed her against him. His erection pressed into the seam of her ass.

Familiar distrust crowded her desire and whispered, “Why now and never before?”

Before she could ask, he bent over her, sealing his chest to her back and placing his lips behind her ear. “You can’t get off, can you?” he whispered.

The question burned through the haze of lust. “I... What?”

“I didn’t stutter, Bailey.”

Absolute confusion dragged the truth out before she could edit her response. “How did you know?”

“Let’s just say we have a few things in common.”

Those clearly capable hands roamed over her body, clouding her mind again. “Like what?”

“Later.” His breath washed over her, hot and suggestive. “What would you say if I told you I could cure your little problem?”

Tilting her head, she gave him better access to her neck. “I wouldn’t call it little.”

“You’d be right.” He nipped her ear.

Distrust tagged doubt, sending it into the arena and forcing her to ask, “Why are you interested in me now?”

“Why not now?” When she didn’t immediately answer, he placed a kiss against her neck. “You interested?”

She wanted this. Wanted him. Badly. He was worth the cost, whatever it was. Shaken, she managed a stilted nod.

“Let’s get those pants off.”

With one hand, she fumbled with the button on her jeans. Large hands settled over hers and Griff took over. The slow rip of the zipper mingled with their heavy breathing to create an erotic chorus. The sinfully delicious smell of sex wafted around them, intimate and suggestive.

Griff knelt behind her, fingertips skating over bare skin as he inched her jeans down. “A thong. I approve.” He punctuated his comment by nipping her bared ass cheek.

Bailey gripped the door handle so hard her knuckles were white. “What’s going on, Griff?”

“So many questions.” Another nip. “I’m going to show you what you’re capable of, beautiful.”

“Something’s wrong with me.” Even to her own ears, her whispered admission sounded ashamed.

“There’s nothing wrong with you that a night with me won’t fix.”

She tensed. “Arrogant much?”

“It’s not arrogance if I can deliver.” He traced an incredibly tactile tongue up the back of her thigh and licked the line between upper thigh and butt cheek. “And I can.”

What the hell. Worst case scenario, I end up with fodder for my fantasies. Best case? He lives up to his own hype. She shelved her misgivings for the moment and toed her sneakers off at the urging of his hands, making way for him to pull her jeans free. The silk thong slipped away from her vulva with silent promise. Air moved over bared skin. Pleas hung in the back of her throat.

“Patience.” Leather creaked. Something heavy hit the floor. A metallic clink followed.

Bailey couldn’t take the suspense. She looked over her shoulder and her mouth fell open. Griff had stripped. Completely. And holy shit. The man was more beautiful naked than she’d imagined. Thick thighs were corded with muscle. His abs tightened in a wicked eight-pack as he moved. That chest with its heavy pecs sported hard nipples. Her gaze dragged down his hairless body to his belly button where the thick head of his erection rested. He’d been impressive behind pants. Now? He was large enough to intimidate.

Turning slowly, she forced herself to meet his penetrating stare.

“Bend over the desk.”

She moved so fast she stumbled.

He grabbed her by the arm and steadied her. “Easy, Bailey.”

“I need...” Nausea made her bend forward and clutch her stomach.

“I know what you need, baby.”

She hoped so. Because if this got much worse, she was going to think she was dying.

* * *

Griff struggled not to throw Bailey down and drive into her. She clearly had no idea what was going on, but he’d known from the very second they met. Succubus. She hadn’t matured, though, so he’d waited. Impatiently at times, true, but he’d worked the bar far more than ever before so he could be around her. Somewhere along the way, he’d decided to see her through this. His maturation and shift from mortal to immortal was something he’d never forget and for all the worst reasons. If he could spare her that...

That’s all it is. Just doing what I’m programmed to and giving her what she needs. Yeah. Right. He’d craved her from day one. It had started as purely physical before evolving to something complicated. Not safe. Do this and get gone.

Bailey clutched her stomach. Sweat sheened her skin, a testament to both her pain and need. He caught her as her knees gave out and shifted her so she lay facedown on the desk. Kicking her feet wide, he moved in closer. Her scent drove him mad. The instinct to power into her without apology made his balls draw up tight as his cock wept crystalline tears. He’d help her achieve orgasm. Then he’d feed until the abysmal memories her Change had dredged up were buried again. Shaking his head, he cursed and stepped back.

Bailey moaned, the sound one of pure agony wrapped in crazed lust. Then she arched her back and presented herself.

He was lost.

Griff moved in behind her. Slipping the head of his cock into her cleft, he dragged it up and down her wet heat. “Sweet hell,” he muttered. “You’re so wet.”

A hard shiver was her only response.

He leaned forward and pulled her hair aside, laying his lips on her neck. “Only two rules. First, no kissing. Second, no strings attached.”

Her only response was to roll her hips in a way that wordlessly translated to desperation and stole his breath.

Gripping her hips, he pressed forward. His cock slid in a fraction at a time. She was so damn tight he was afraid he was going to tear her in half. It took every ounce of restraint to keep things slow and controlled when the dregs of his sexual hunger roared to the surface. He resisted the commands screaming through him to push her hard, to feed, to sate the emptiness that threatened to drag him under. The only currency his nature dealt in when denied was personal pain, so he kept working his way into her. The aches started up again. Heat burned through him like a wind-driven wildfire. Finally, seated as deeply as possible, he adjusted his grip and began slow, rolling thrusts.

Bailey gripped the edge of the desk and hauled herself back on him hard enough that the head of his cock hit her cervix. “Again,” she grunted.

“You’re not warmed up enough for that.”

“Again!” She rocked back on him with such power he stumbled back.

Griff wrapped one arm around her waist, lifting her hips up at the same time he propped a fist on the desk next to her head. “You want it rough?”

She shook in his embrace. “I need it.”

“Let go. I’ll take care of...this.” He’d started to say you, but that would have been a lie. “C’mon, Bailey. Let go.” When she went limp in his arms, he settled back, knelt just enough that her thighs rested on his and powered into her. Long, hard thrusts slapped his balls against her clit. He had to hold onto her, one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder, to keep her from sliding across the desk with every drive of his hips.

Her sheath was so tight, so wet, he thought he’d lose his damn mind. Every quiver of her body translated to pure craving, a need so raw it raked against the most sensitive parts of him. All he wanted in that moment was to experience the power of her release.

But not like this.

He pulled free of Bailey’s body.

She dropped her forehead to the desk. “I knew it.”

Griff’s mouth kicked up at the corners. “We’re not done, baby.” The empty affection rolled off his tongue with practiced ease. He gently rolled her over. “Hips to the edge.”

Propping her feet over his shoulders, he leaned in and settled his hands on her waist. She presented a vulnerable, trusting picture, spread out like an offering. The small, insidious voice in his head reminded him that he didn’t deserve her trust. Self-loathing’s abyss loomed. His near-dormant conscience pushed him closer to the ledge and encouraged him to leap.

“Not yet.” His whisper was harsh and emphatic.

Bailey gripped his arm, misunderstanding. “Finish this.”

He drove into her with a single thrust. Reveled in her shout. The hard-pounding rhythm of skin on skin drowned out the club’s muted cacophony.

Her nails scored his arms, drawing blood.

The violence in her matched his own. He was too far gone, too lost in Bailey’s response to shut down his own. His cock swelled. Fuck.

Reaching between them with unfamiliar urgency, he found her clit. The swollen bundle of nerves was slick with her arousal. He thrummed it faster and faster until her wild undulations forced him to hold her in place. Her cries drowned out everything else until she was all he could hear, all he could see, all he wanted.

Hot seed shot up his cock. Sweet hell. He was going to lose himself right here. Right now. He pinched her clit between his thumb and middle finger, flicking it hard. “Now, Bailey!”

She screamed, and that was it. Game over.

Griff’s orgasm rocked him, nearly taking him to his knees. He came so hard his eyes rolled back in his head as he buried his cock deep. Then he felt it.

Her sheath tightened around him.

But instead of the anticipated rush of energy typical with feeding, he only got a trickle. He drew in every last lungful of the drug his body needed to survive. The semi-high would tide him over. For now.

Leaning forward, he took her nipple into his mouth. Her skin was salty. The musk of their sex mingled in the air. Yeah, life was fucking good.

It took him a minute to realize his lover was taught under his hands. She trembled, her need a beacon to the incubus within him. “Bailey?”

“I don’t feel so good,” she whispered.

Then she passed out.