Erin McCarthy - Vegas Vampires 01, page 14
“Have you been married?”
The question startled her. She hadn’t thought that maybe he i would wonder about her past, too, short as it was compared to his. “No. I’ve been’building my career. And the men I meet on the job are either attorneys or criminals and neither really appeals to me. Besides, not every man sees the charm in a short, extremely independent woman who has a peach butt.”
Ethan played with the leaf of the oleander bush growing in a pot next to him. “I confess I’ve never really spent a lot of time with independent women. I was always drawn to the sweet, feminine, simple types, but since meeting you I’ve come to realize I’ve denied myself a great deal of pleasure. While sweet women can be soothing, it seems in my old age I crave intelligent conversation as much as pretty smiles. You give me both, Alexis.”
It was so sexy and romantic, she didn’t believe it for a second, and treated him to a heavy eye roll.
“And your backside looks nothing like a peach, though I haven’t seen you without clothes. Perhaps it’s fuzzy?” He shot her a grin.
Whenever he turned her words around on her, she had to struggle not to give in to the juvenile urge to stick her tongue out at him. “No, it’s not, and if that’s some kind of psychological maneuver to get me to take my clothes off and prove it, you’re going to be disappointed. I’m stubborn and competitive, but my butt is none of your business.”
“You’re the one who brought up that particular body part in the first place.”
“I hate it when you’re right.” She forced herself to sit up. “So, no wife, huh? You like playing the field?”
“Yes. And no. Had I found the right woman, my chosen one, I would have married. But I didn’t.”
Chosen one. Like a soul mate. Alexis figured if she’d ever stumbled across one of those for herself, she would take the plunge, too, despite her lack of successful role models. Yet she was pretty sure such an idealistic thing didn’t exist. “Can you have children?”
“Only with a mortal woman, and that is frowned upon. Vampire women can’t have children at all.”
Oh, that figured. The guys were a thousand years old and still making sperm, and the women got nothing.
“So… if you have a kid with a mortal, what is the kid? Vor-tal? Mampire? Do you give them blood in a bottle or what?” It sounded a little creepy, actually. It was one thing to know intellectually that Ethan had to drink blood, from a blood bank, to survive. It was another thing to picture a little five-year-old whipping his fangs out on the playground and biting into a blood bag for an afternoon snack before his nap.
“No. No blood bottles.” Ethan shook his head, like she was being outrageous.
“What? It’s a legitimate question.”
“Impures are raised mortal, some never even knowing they are half-vampire. But they are strong, free from many common ailments, and have a very long natural lifespan. All those hundred-and-ten-year-olds you see on the news? Impures.”
“Really.” Alexis thought that wasn’t such a bad bargain. You didn’t have to suck blood but you got to live a long time in good health. Sign her up.
“They also tend to sunburn easily and excel at sports.
Occasionally, they have the unique vampire trait of crying blood tears, which is usually chalked up to sinus infections.”
“Hey, Brittany used to have that. It was totally gross. She hardly ever got colds, but when she did, her eyes would swell up and this nasty, bloody, pus-like stuff would come out. Freaked my mom out every time.” Alexis gave a laugh remembering the way her mother used to make gagging noises when she’d hand Brittany a tissue.
Ethan didn’t say anything.
Alexis glanced over at him. “What? It was funny. Brittany was such a girly-girl, even though she was always really good at sports, and to see her all puffed up like that, it had its element of humor.”
He just stared at her expectantly. “What? Why are you looking at me like that, Ethan?”
Suddenly she remembered what he had told her the first night she’d met him. That Brittany was an Impure, half-vampire. She wasn’t, of course, Alexis was sure of that, but here she was spouting all these similarities.
“Oh no, I know what you’re thinking,” Alexis said, her face going hot. Her baby sister was not a vampire, and she wouldn’t accept anyone saying otherwise. Brittany loved garlic—it just wasn’t possible. “Don’t even go there. It’s just a coincidence. Brittany’s my sister, and while my mother was impulsive, I don’t think she would have fallen for a vampire.”
“Why not?” Ethan asked sensibly. “We seem like regular mortal men, don’t we? We blend into society for the most part, and we are strong, some of us are attractive and charming… and some have stronger moral fiber than others, just like mortals. There is no reason to believe your mother would have known the truth if she were seduced by a vampire.”
Alexis wasn’t sure why she was so upset, but she was. Choosing to be with Ethan for a few days was one thing, but accepting that Brittany was vampire was more than she could handle. It was scary and unbelievable, disturbing and shocking. And if Brittany were an Impure, then she had a whole community that Alexis could never be a part of.
She was pretty sure that’s what scared her the most.
“Given what you’ve said about your mother, it doesn’t sound like she would have asked a lot of questions.”
That made shame, pride, and anger all spark within Alexis. “Hey, that is still my mother you’re talking about. She was a lot of things, but indiscriminate slut wasn’t one of them.”
Ethan sat back hard on the bench. “Alexis, I apologize. I didn’t mean to sound insulting. I just meant she seemed impulsive and carefree.”
Anger dissipated as quickly as it had formed. “Shit, I know. I’m sorry. And you’re right. My mother was perfectly capable of meeting a man at her club and having an affair, thinking she was in love, without really asking a lot of questions. It’s just…”
“If Brittany is Impure, where does that leave you?”
Tears rose in her eyes. It amazed her that Ethan cut so quickly to the heart of what was bothering her. That he understood her. “Yes.”
He stood up and came over to her. He went down on his haunches in front of her, taking her hands gently. “You’re still her sister, the most important person in the world to her, and that will never change. You’re still Ball Buster, the best prosecutor this county has seen.”
Yeah, yeah. She tried to choke out a retort, but she couldn’t manage it.
His thumbs stroked across her palms. “And you’re a very attractive woman. I hope you’ll consider dating the president of the Vampire Nation for real.”
Feeling vulnerable and needy were not emotions Alexis aspired to. But Ethan didn’t make her feel small or melodramatic. He looked sincere, and strong, and unbelievably good-looking with his sharp bone structure and changeling blue eyes. They were light now, a sky blue on a sunny day. It seemed he wanted her, for now anyway.
And she didn’t have any desire to protest or play hard to get.
Maybe there was more of her mother in her than she cared to admit.
She sniffled. “I have control issues, you know. It kills me that I might not be part of something important to Brittany. Not that I’m convinced she is half-vamp. She’s not exactly fond of blood. She gets her steak and burgers well-done and flips out over getting her blood drawn.”
Ethan tucked her hair behind her ear. It always amused Alexis when he did that. Despite her stature, Alexis had never really inspired nurturing from anyone. Not her mother, not teachers, not boyfriends.
Yet Ethan, the bloodsucking vampire, seemed determined to cuddle and comfort her, and treat her like she was delicate.
She liked it. She liked him.
“As for me and the president… well, as long as he knows what he’s getting himself into.”
Ethan smiled, his touch on her hands turning from soothing to seductive, sliding up her wrists. “He knows.”
“Then tell the president that he should consider us dating for real.”
“The president is pleased.” Ethan moved into the space between them, head tilted, mouth open.
Alexis closed her eyes in anticipation. His lips covered hers softly, gently, with respect and kindness. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been kissed quite like that, with a confidence, but also a reverence, and it awakened all sorts of emotions in her. Made her want more with him.
Lots more. With tongue more.
With a quick shift, she brought her arms around his neck, and moved forward so that her thighs slid between his chest and his biceps. Ethan had a hard, muscular body. He didn’t even strain with his legs bent the way they were, or lose his balance as she wedged herself into him.
The kiss shifted quickly, gained speed and heat, and careened into erotic as he urged her mouth open with his tongue and invaded her with wet, darting strokes. Alexis groaned, her nipples budding painfully, her inner thighs restless and aching. She was close to him, brushing here, touching there, but it wasn’t a full body slam, and it was enough to tease, but not to satisfy. She couldn’t see or feel his erection, but she knew he was as aroused as she was.
His breathing was hard, urgent, and his technique became less exact, more grasping. Their lips were slick, colliding, and when he plucked at her nipple with two fingers, she jerked on the seat at the sharp bite of ecstasy. If he didn’t stop, they were going to wind up naked on this teak outdoor furniture, and while that had its pluses, Alexis figured they’d be visible to people in approximately twenty
“Ethan.”
“Yes, BB?”
“BB?” she asked, distracted by his words and his wandering hand. Somehow he’d made his way up her T-shirt. “What the hel] does that mean?”
Ethan’s mouth moved over her neck. “Ball Buster is too long to keep saying. And BB can double as bold and beautiful.”
“I see. Very charming.” Alexis dodged the kiss he was about to press on her, and scooted her legs around his. It was time to get a grip on her control—she was not going to have sex outside. “But now you need to take me to Tom. It’s time for the concert to start, Garlic.”
He groaned, toying with the clasp on her bra. “Ah, come on, Alexis. Let’s just skip it and go upstairs straightaway.”
She wriggled out of his arms and headed for the door, despite the ache in her body. Walking away would hurt, but she’d thank herself for it later. She was too vulnerable to do this with Ethan right then—too raw and too willing to fall for him.
Forcing a sassy smile, she said, “You may have forever to live, but Tom and I don’t. This may be my only chance to see him.”
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
Of all nights for Carrick to break his fucking routine, it had to be this one. Ringo sat at the blackjack table and glanced at his watch for the third time. Every night Carrick came onto the floor at 8 p.m., except for tonight. It had been a risk to come to the casino in the first place since it was likely they had Ringo on tape, or had security on high alert because of the shooting.
There had been a shooting. Ringo knew he had definitely pulled the trigger on his gun since there were two shots missing. But whether he had actually hit Carrick or not was a mystery. And with the guy not showing tonight, it meant Ringo still didn’t have answers. Carrick was either late, dead, or wounded. The news hadn’t mentioned anything about Carrick or The Ava, and there wasn’t a hint of any shooting, so Ringo didn’t know what the hell to think.
The whole situation was starting to piss him off. His specialty as quick, clean kills with high-caliber weapons. He’d been a sniper in the Marines, and in a manner of speaking, he had continued with the same work.
He didn’t kill with his hands, or with messy, convoluted sick shit like rope or a blunt object. He didn’t want to beat anyone with anything, exert any sort of energy, or have to resort to violence. There was no blood on Ringo’s hands, clothes, or shoes when he did his job, and half the time his victims never knew what had hit them.
If he had known Donatelli wanted something weird, he’d have said no thanks right from jump. But he’d thought an Italian businessman would appreciate a quick shooting, not go in for this mutilation crap. Ringo didn’t even know how to cut someone’s head off. He’d looked into it, and the bottom line was, it was messy as hell.
The Italian was going to have to settle for a slit to the throat, and even that didn’t thrill him. He just wasn’t comfortable putting his hands on anyone. Not that it mattered since Carrick was a no-show and come morning Ringo was either going to have to beg for another chance, run for his life, or plug Donatelli to end the situation.
Not happy choices.
“Hi!”
Fuckin’ A. Ringo studiously ignored Kelsey, even as she popped her skinny little ass into the seat next to him. He did not need this shit right now.
“Don’t you remember me?” She sounded hurt, as she tugged on his jacket sleeve.
Sitting very still, he turned his head and just looked at her. She was wearing a red dress this time, with crisscrosses under her breasts. She wasn’t giggling, but pouting.
“I remember you with regret.”
“That’s not very nice.”
If she was looking for nice, she needed a better strategy than hitting on guys hugging the gambling table. “I also remember you leaving me right when things were getting interesting.”
“I got scared when things went so fast,” she told him with a perfectly straight face. Her fingernail was trapped between her teeth and she slouched in the seat, looking worried. “I’m really, really sorry. Do you forgive me? I shouldn’t have run out on you like that.”
What was he, fucking stupid? “Yeah, let me guess. You’re a virgin and you’ve never done anything like that before.” He moved his money over to the dealer to go in for the next round, and scoffed at her. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but find another fool. I don’t make the same mistake twice.”
“Me either, I promise. This time I won’t get scared, because I know what to expect.”
That made no sense to him. Expect what? It wasn’t like he had a defect or a double-wide dick or anything. He wasn’t a nature show, and there weren’t that many ways to have sex standing up.
Kelsey smiled and leaned a little closer. “Tell me your name.”
He blew cigarette smoke in her face. “I don’t have a name.”
“Oh, come on. Pretty please, with sugar on top?”
Ringo wanted to tell her to go fuck herself, since she had left him sixty seconds from sexual completion, feeling like he’d swallowed a shot glass of Demerol. Yet there was something about her… the way she was so perky and naive and flat-out stupid that he found he couldn’t do it. He felt sorry for her.
Which shocked him, right down to his Italian leather sandals. It had been a helluva long time since he’d felt any emotion for anyone.
“No. Now here’s a twenty.” He put a chip in her hand. “Run along like a good little girl and find someone else to talk to.”
She made a distressed noise, but he turned back to the table. He noticedshe didn’t set down the money he’d given her when she stood up.
But instead of leaving, she draped herself over his shoulder. Ringo stiffened. He didn’t want her touching him. And under his jacket he carried his gun.
Ready to shove her off, or leave the table, he was shifting when she whispered in his ear, in an urgent voice, “You can’t kill him, you know.”
That stopped him cold. Abandoning his money and the game, he stood up and clamped a hand onto her wrist. She sucked in an exclamation of shock and pain.
But he just held her and said quietly, “We’re going for a little walk.”
Fear flashed in her eyes, but she didn’t call for help.
And when he pulled her, she came along with him, giving zero resistance, like a skinny lamb with lipstick straight to slaughter.
@
Ethan couldn’t believe he’d let Alexis throw her panties at Tom Jones on the stage.
But she had said she was repressed, and never did anything fun, and this was necessary to prevent her from becoming an angry, shriveled-up cat woman.
Ethan couldn’t follow the leap in logic, so he had just nodded. But now that they were heading upstairs in the elevator, he was very much aware of the fact that under her tight, low-rise jeans, she was panty-free.
He wasn’t a big fan of denim, finding the seams uncomfortable, and jeans awkward as hell to get off a woman. There was something much more satisfying about a dress dropping to the ground in a pool of satin or muslin than yanking and jerking at tight pants, but he was resigned to modern fashion.
And the thought that Alexis wasn’t wearing a stitch under that denim did things to his own jeans. Like creating a pop-up tent. “That was so much fun.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I’m sorry you were the only man there besides Tom and the bouncers.” Alexis turned and put her hand on his chest. “But at least you’re the owner of the casino so it didn’t look too weird.”
“I can handle looking weird.” Ethan gripped her waist, determined to end the night buried deep inside Alexis. After enduring that screaming estrogen fest, he wasn’t going to settle for anything less.
“And I’m sorry I hit you in the face with my panties when I wound up to throw.” She smirked as she walked her fingers up his chest.
“I didn’t mind, trust me.” Though he would have liked to have kept the scrap of satin himself, not watch it arc through the air and wind up at the feet of a geriatric sex symbol. He hadn’t been thrilled when she’d rushed into the bathroom to strip them off in the first place, but he was trying to focus on the end result, not the why.
She was naked under there, and that was the important thing.
Especially now that his hands were on her tight backside, running over those curves and dipping down between her legs. Her breath hitched and Ethan leaned down, intent on claiming those plump pink lips, when the elevator door dinged and slid open.
“Bloody hell,” he said, as she darted away from him.
