Love Blossoms, page 10
“Tell me what you want,” he ordered her.
“I…” Her skin heated and she was certain she must be blushing, but she told herself there was nothing shameful about asking him to please her. “I want you to lick me.” When he didn’t move, she bit her lip, knowing without being told what he wanted her to say. “Lick my pussy. Please.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” As he spoke, Matt pulled down her underwear and dropped it on the floor. He pushed her thighs wide apart with his palms and gazed at her, so brazenly exposed to him. Bonnie didn’t make any attempt to close her legs, loving the mixture of awe and blatant lust in his expression.
Without another word, he dropped his face to her pussy and kissed her there. She shivered at the warmth of his breath on her sensitive places, and when he slipped his tongue between her lips and traced it over her clit, she moaned and grabbed handfuls of the bedcovers. Needing more, she arched her hips, pushing herself onto his mouth and relishing the prickle of his beard against the soft skin of her inner thighs.
Matt licked her until she lost all sense of time and place, until nothing mattered but the steady pressure of his tongue tip on her nub. She raked her fingers through his hair and down over his bare shoulders, drawing an answering hiss of need from him, and when he pulled away just at the moment her pleasure threatened to spill over into orgasm, Bonnie let out a disappointed whimper.
“I want you to come on my dick,” Matt told her, reaching into her nightstand drawer for a condom. He rolled it onto his shaft as Bonnie watched, strumming a finger over her clit to keep herself on the edge, impatient to feel him inside her.
He straddled her body and entered her in one smooth, even thrust. She’d forgotten how well they fit together, his long cock reaching all the right places as he pushed deep into her and pulled out almost all the way. With every stroke he took her closer to the point of no return. Already, the first delicious waves were rolling through her belly, and her pussy clenched around his shaft.
Bonnie threw her head back and begged for more as Matt speeded up. She fought the urge to close her eyes so she could keep gazing at him as he fucked her. This connection, this feeling that he was somehow a part of her—she’d missed it just as much as she’d missed his corny jokes and the way he sang off-key when he was driving and the hundred and one small ways he’d subtly make her day better every time they were together. He was her soulmate, and she hated how close she’d come to never seeing him again. She vowed she would never make him feel the way Dionne had when she’d broken up with him.
Her train of thought broke apart as Matt gave one last, hard thrust, and she melted around him, her body racked with delicious spasms. She clung tight to him as his pleasure crested and he called out, “Oh, God, Bonnie, I love you.”
Matt rolled off her to lie on his back, panting hard. Bonnie was surprised to find tears in her eyes.
“Are you crying?” Matt asked as she swiped them away with the back of her hand.
“They’re tears of happiness,” she assured him.
“Good, because I never want to see you upset because of me again.” Matt climbed off the bed so he could dispose of the condom.
“Is that a promise? If so, I’ll keep you to it,” Bonnie called after him as he went through to the en suite bathroom.
“Don’t worry, Bonnie, now I’m back in your life, I intend to stay here for good. And I’m going to spend all my time proving to you just how much you mean to me.”
He got back into bed, arranged the covers over the two of them and held her in his arms, whispering soft words of love to her as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Eleven
“So, which one is your parents’ home?” Matt asked, keeping one eye on the road ahead as he drove.
“Up there on the right. The one with the willow tree in the front yard.” Bonnie indicated the house she meant with her free hand. With the other, she clutched the cool bag on her lap that contained a Tupperware of potato salad, her contribution to lunch, and the bottle of sauvignon blanc Matt had bought on the way over to collect her.
“You know, they really didn’t have to go to all the trouble of throwing a barbeque for us.” Matt pulled the car to a halt and switched off the engine.
“It’s no trouble, believe me. Any excuse for Dad to fire up the grill and he’s out there.” She glanced at Matt, who was regarding his reflection in the driver’s mirror.
“Do you think I look okay?” He stroked his neatly trimmed beard. “I wouldn’t want to let you down.”
Bonnie stifled a giggle. She’d never seen him so gripped with nerves, and she had to admit she found his vulnerability adorable even as she rushed to assure him that he had nothing at all to be nervous about. “You’re fine, honestly. And Mom and Dad are going to love you. Okay, so they were a bit worried when I told them you were English. I mean, people have long memories in this part of the world. They still remember the Boston Tea Party, Paul Revere’s ride and the fact it took a war to get our independence from your country…”
He turned to her, the blood draining from his face, and she burst out laughing.
Matt let out a wounded huff. “Bloody hell, Bonnie, you really had me going for a moment.”
She stroked his forearm, trailing her fingertips over his lightly tan skin with its cute smattering of freckles. “I love how easy you are to tease. But seriously, they’re dying to meet you. You just have to be prepared for Dad to take you out into the backyard and tell you all about the secret spice rub he uses on the pork shoulder before he smokes it.”
“He smokes his own meat?” Matt looked at her wide-eyed. “Wow. I’ve got a couple of mates back home who have a lot of barbeque parties, but those are mostly an excuse to stand in the sun and drink all afternoon. The best they’ve ever produced is charred burgers and sausages that are still a bit raw in the middle.” He shuddered at the memory.
“Nothing like that here, I promise. Now, come on, let’s go inside.” She unclipped her seat belt.
Matt followed her up the path, hands tucked in the pockets of his cargo shorts. Bonnie found it hard to understand why he would be anxious about having lunch with her parents but then, she supposed, he didn’t know them the way she did, didn’t realize that beneath her dad’s slightly gruff exterior, he was one of the warmest and most welcoming men it was possible to meet.
The door swung open almost before she’d had a chance to knock on it, and she figured her mom had been standing in the front window, watching and waiting for them to arrive.
“Hi, Mom.” Bonnie’s greeting was muffled as her mother enveloped her in a warm hug.
“Bonnie, honey, come in. And you must be Matt?”
“Hello, Mrs. Dunlop.” Matt extended his hand, but Bonnie’s mom ignored it and wrapped her arms around him.
“None of that formal nonsense here,” she said in a brisk tone. “Call me Susan. And this is Charles.” She gestured toward her tall, gray-haired husband who stood to her side, wearing a blue-and-white striped apron and holding a pair of tongs in one hand.
“Matt, come with me,” Bonnie’s dad said, slinging his arm over Matt’s shoulder. “Do you do a lot of grilling in jolly old England?”
Bonnie shook her head, amused at how things were playing out exactly the way she’d told Matt they would.
Her mother leaned into her side. “He seems very nice. You’ve chosen well there.”
“I don’t know that I exactly chose…” she began, but her mom had already plucked the cool bag from her grasp and was making her way to the kitchen. “Are Cassidy and Lisa here yet?” Bonnie called after her.
“They have an errand to run. Something to do with picking up a donation for the thrift shop. Cassidy did tell me about it… A collection of old LPs, I think. Whatever, they’re driving over to get it, and they’ll pop in here once they’re done. We got a couple of those plant-based burger patties for Lisa, but I told Charles I’ll have to cook those on the grill in the kitchen.”
“Speaking of the grill, I guess I’d better go rescue Matt from Dad’s clutches.”
Her mom glanced out of the kitchen window. “I don’t know that he needs any rescuing. The two of them look as if they’re getting on like a house on fire. But if you want to go out and be with him, be my guest.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Bonnie pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheek and went to join Matt in the yard. He stood watching as her dad applied a coating of dark, sticky marinade to the meat cooking on the grill.
“Hey, everything okay?” Matt asked as he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“Fine. I just came out to make sure Dad wasn’t boring you to death.”
“Not at all.” He smiled at her, his usual relaxed self once more. “I’m just learning the finer points of cooking meat low and slow.”
Bonnie chuckled at how easily Matt had absorbed one of her father’s favorite mantras. “That’s great. And Mom says thanks for the wine.”
She gazed around the little yard, at her dad absorbed in his task and over to where her mom stood in the doorway, watching the scene with a fond smile. Everything about this moment felt right, and she smiled at how naturally Matt fit in with her family dynamic.
“Thank you for coming over here today,” she murmured. “And thank you…for being you.” The words sounded so corny she immediately wished she could take them back, but Matt only hugged her tighter.
“Well, you wouldn’t want me to be anyone else, would you?”
“No.” She turned and pecked him on the lips, a sweet kiss that would have turned into something more if she hadn’t been in her parents’ backyard. “All I’ll ever want you to be is the man I love.”
Matt’s eyes shone, reflecting the strength of her feelings back to her. “Oh, don’t worry. I think I can manage that.”
She melted in his arms, sure that from now on, even if they had their ups and downs from time to time, life with Matt would be a bed of roses.
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Hot Bite: Queen of the Night
Elizabeth Coldwell
Excerpt
“You’re going to slay them tonight.”
Nick turned his head slowly, conscious of the weight of his elaborate rose-gold wig, to see James standing in the dressing-room doorway. “Hey, don’t you have a club you should be looking after?”
James grinned as he walked into the room and came over to where Nick sat. “You look ravishing, my love. But then you always do. This dress”—he gestured to the nude illusion gown Nick wore, decorated with thousands of tiny shimmering crystals—“really takes my breath away. Well, it would if that were still possible.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“Thank you.” Nick looked up into James’ cool blue eyes as he placed a single red rose next to the array of makeup brushes on the dressing table, a ritual James had performed every evening since Nick first performed at the Blue Moon’s drag night.
James bent and kissed Nick’s neck, his fangs brushing over the delicate skin in an intimate caress. Nick brought up his hand, glittering with jeweled rings, and pulled James’ head a little tighter to him.
“There’s a big crowd out there,” James said as he broke the kiss. “The warm weather must have brought them. Quite a few virgins…to the scene, I mean.” He glanced around the room. “I’ll make sure there’s champagne waiting for you when you come off stage.”
“Oh, you really don’t have to—”
“Nonsense. Dressed like that, you’re going to have them lining up the whole way down the hall to see you after the show. You’ll have your pick of all the handsome boys out there.”
Nick put the back of his hand to his brow, feigning a swoon. “Oh, it’s such a difficult job…but somebody has to do it. Now, will you go back to what you’re supposed to be doing and let me finish up here? I’m due on stage in a couple of minutes.”
“Of course. I’ll see you afterwards.” He pressed another kiss to Nick’s collarbone and turned to leave the room.
As James pushed open the door, Nick heard music coming from the dance floor, an old-school Hazell Dean track whose high-energy beat would have the punters going wild. It took him back to his early days here, when he’d come to dance and lose himself in a mass of hot, sweating bodies for hours on end. He’d been so young and optimistic then, not knowing the strange turn his life was about to take…
He shook his head to clear it of the memory and reached for the lip gloss. Once he’d applied a final coat, he pouted at his reflection, more than satisfied with the result. The transformation was complete. Gone was Nick Lindsay. In his place sat Merante Bane, queen of the Blue Moon, and she was ready to come out and play.
* * * *
Merante made her way to the small, cramped backstage area. The grand Victorian building, now home to the Blue Moon, had originally been a pub, full of odd nooks and crannies like this one. She took a deep breath. The DJ had started her backing tape and an expectant hush fell over the room as everyone waited for her to appear.
She pushed open the curtain and strutted out to the opening notes of Mama Told Me Not to Come, with the weird, woozy organ riff. Most of the other drag queens she worked with preferred to lip-synch, so they didn’t mangle the lyrics while they were twirling around or hurling themselves into the splits, but Merante always sang live. She’d never been a dancing queen—her talent was her rich, smoky voice.
The song suited her off-kilter persona, and she threw everything into the performance, acting out the part of someone who found themselves at a strange party where nothing was off-limits.
Just like a night at the Blue Moon.
The crowd joined in on the final chorus, and when it ended, they burst into cheering and applause. Merante took a moment to bask in their appreciation, then she strolled to the front of the stage, microphone in hand. She took a moment to survey the sea of faces, the eclectic mix of vampire and human, long-time regulars at the Blue Moon and newbies anxious to savor the atmosphere of the famous old club.
James was right… There’s a lot of cute boys in tonight.
At the thought of James, she looked over to the back of the club. He was in his usual position leaning against the bar, chatting to Rhys, the head barman. She caught James’ eye, and he raised his fingers to his lips and blew her a kiss.
Merante turned her attention back to the audience. “Are you all having a good time?” she asked. When they roared in appreciation, she shook her head. “Well, we’ll soon change all that…” She glanced out into the press of bodies close to the stage and spotted a young ginger-haired man in a sequined T-shirt that clung to his firm pecs. “Fuck me, love, why have you come dressed as a glitterball? This isn’t Twilight. We don’t do all that sparkly shit here, thank you very much.”
More laughter. This was the other reason they came to the Blue Moon when Merante performed—to be on the receiving end of her acid tongue.
She regarded her target again as the guy standing next to him nudged him in the ribs, clearly enjoying that his friend was the butt of the joke and not him. The redhead blushed to the roots of his hair.
So, there’s blood running in those veins…
Merante’s mouth watered at the thought, but right now she had a job to do. She fixed the redhead with a contemplative stare, enjoying how he squirmed under her gaze. “Mind you, I don’t blame you for being confused about vampires, love. You see, until I became one, I thought they were mythical creatures, too. They didn’t really exist. You know, like unicorns, Father Christmas and guys who mean it when they tell you they won’t come in your mouth…”
The line raised a big laugh, just as she’d known it would. Confident she had the audience in the palm of her hand, Merante relaxed into her stand-up routine. Almost before she knew it, her ten minutes was over, and the music started again. She always finished with an upbeat number, leaving the crowd on a high and ready to dance, and tonight she’d chosen Kylie Minogue’s Hand on Your Heart.
“Always the Eighties with you,” James had said on so many occasions, but Merante knew he understood why. It was her decade, always would be, and in the Blue Moon, time didn’t mean the same as it did anywhere else.
The boys at the front of the stage didn’t care, even though most of them didn’t look as if they’d been born when the song was first a hit. They sang along as Merante belted out the chorus, and when she took her final bow, they screamed her name.
“Thank you so much,” Merante said. “I’ve been Merante Bane, and you’ve been”—she made a wavering hand gesture, dismissing them—“bang average.”
With that, the spotlight cut out and she disappeared back behind the curtain, leaving them calling for more. The music started up, the beat fast and hard, beckoning everyone back to the dance floor.
Merante left the noise behind and returned to the dressing room. True to his word, James had left a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket, along with a couple of tall, slender glasses. The alcohol tempted her, but before she did anything else, she needed to untuck.
Concealing your penis to help complete the illusion of having a feminine body was a necessary evil for a drag queen, but it was not pleasant to maintain for long periods of time. Merante hissed out a breath of relief as she eased her tight tucking panties down and off and made the necessary adjustments to her anatomy.
Comfortable once more, she reached for the champagne. She took the wire cage from around the cork and opened the bottle with a deft motion, the sound barely audible in the little room. James had taught her champagne should open with a sigh, not a pop, impressing her with his sophistication. She laughed to herself at how naïve she’d been until James had taken her under his wing.
The champagne tasted crisp and fresh, the bubbles fizzing on her tongue. She turned to the mirror, about to begin the long process of removing her costume and makeup, turning herself back into Nick, when she heard a knock at the door.
