Bit the Jackpot (Vegas Vampires #2)(38)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"Can I be honest with you?"

That was a scary thought. God only knew what would come out of her mouth. But he knew what was expected of him. He’d gleaned that much from twentieth-century chick flicks."Of course. You can always be honest with me."

Even if she ripped his heart out of his chest and flung it against the wall with her words. Sure, he was cool with the whole honesty thing. He was a modern vampire, with pink lint on his nuts. He could talk about his feelings. A stake to the heart might be more pleasant, but he could do this.Honesty. Sure. He was on it.

"I really am a virgin."

Thatwasn’t what he expected her to say. It didn’t make sense to him and he blurted out, "Are are you sure?"

Her cheeks bloomed pink. "Yes, I’m sure! I ought to know something like that, don’t you think?"

Okay, so it had been a stupid thing to say. But she danced with no clothes on. She had a vibrator. She’d had orgasms while feeding from him. Cara was sexy, sensual. Not a virgin. Damn.A virgin?

His brain hurt.Along with another part farther south.

"Of course.But you " Where the hell was a speechwriter when he needed one?

"Look, I know it seems kind of ridiculous, but I never wanted to give that up to anyone, you know what I mean? I’m a control freak. I dance because I can hide behind the screen. It doesn’t feel like anyone is watching me. I dance for the money, not the audience."

"But the vibrator " Seamus wondered if that counted toward nonvirgin status, or was that a technical loophole. He was seriously intrigued by the thought that she’d gone there alone, with a battery-operated toy, never having experienced that with a man. Though why in hell had he mentioned the vibrator out loud? Way to sound like a perv .

She folded her arms across her chest and looked around nervously. "Well, I just use it, um, externally. I don’t think I would know how to actually do, well, anything else."

They were a train wreck. They both sounded like a couple of twelve-year-olds looking at  p**n .

"I haven’t had sex in two hundred years," he said, because it seemed like an appropriate time for a confession. Also, if they ever got to the sticking point—sex—he wanted her to know he was a bit out of practice.

Cara looked startled. She rubbed her toes on her opposite ankle, and pulled her T-shirt down over the waist of her jeans. "Oh, well, uh wow.Any reason?"

"The last woman I slept with betrayed me. She had me sent to the guillotine." Seamus touched the scar on his neck.

Her eyes softened. "Oh, baby, that’s horrible."

He would have thought her compassion would be embarrassing, but he kind of liked the way her fingers reached out for him. He let her touch him, run her thumb over his puckered scar. "I was Marie’s lapdog, though I didn’t know it at the time. I swore I wouldn’t give up control to another woman ever again. I am a control freak, too."

"My last boyfriend he said he was cool with waiting until we got married to have sex. And later I found out why he was so willing to be chivalrous—he was having sex with a handful of other women."

"Oh, sweetie, what a bastard.I’m sorry." He didn’t understand a dog like that. One who turned sex into selfishrutting. "And if it makes you feel better, the woman I thought loved me was sleeping with another man, and together they had plotted my death from the beginning."

"Uh!What a bitch," Cara said, looking indignant on his behalf.

"Vampire slayer," he said.

"Oh. Yikes." She stared up at him, her body lithe and lush against his, her dark eyes wide with desire. "Since we’re being honest I want to sleep with you, but I’m afraid to give up control."

"Me, too."He wasn’t sure he could trust her not to kick him in the teeth. It wasn’t Cara, it was him. Ethan had told him he had trust issues, which was probably true.

"So what do we do about it?"

Seamus wrapped his arms around her waist, tensely. It felt like they were circling each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. "I don’t know."

"Also since we’re being honest," she said in a husky whisper. "How do you really feel about my dancing naked for other men?"

That was easy. Jealousy exploded in his gut, sick and hot. "I hate it. That’s how I really feel. I want to rip every one of their faces off and shove them up their arses . I feel like knocking their damn skulls together and covering you from head to toe in fleece."

She opened her mouth.

And Seamus kissed her. He leaned down, and took her mouth with determination.The hell with this. They were going to do what they both wanted to do. And if he was going to have to sit in that club and watch her—guard her—while she danced behind that screen, he was going to be damn sure she was his first. He wanted to take her, brand her, hold her to him,make Cara and everyone else understand that she belonged at his side.

They were mates already, living together. Now he wanted to seal that, put his scent on her.

So he kissed her hard and fast and deep, sliding his tongue between her surprised lips. When they both came up for air, he said, "Did I mention that I hate the dancing naked for other men?"

Without waiting for her response, he covered her lips with his again, his hands trailing down her back onto her tight, firm ass. She felt perfect beneath his hands, and she tasted delicious, like rich, fine wine, her lips soft and pliable, juicy. After a long, hot minute, Seamus pulled back with a suppressed groan.

"Well," Cara said, breathing hard. "Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel."

Desire, hot and hard, ripped through him, and he made no effort to control it. "Tell you how I feel? This is how I feel."

Seamus yanked his shirt off with vampire speed and pulled her against him. He licked along her bottom lip,then kissed her feverishly, kneading her backside beneath his fingers. It was perfect, this was right, it was everything, and he wondered what the hell he’d been waiting for. Cara was kissing him back, eagerly, her hands racing across his chest, gripping him.

He wanted to feel her flesh against his, touch the body that had been teasing and taunting him since the first minute he’d seen her. He wanted to be the only man who had ever been allowed to taste her, run his hands over those curves. He wanted to fill her with his hard body and make her scream in pleasure. But first he had to get those clothes off.

The T-shirt went with one tug. And she wasn’t wearing a bra. A very beautiful, full chest was right in front of him, gloriously naked.

Cara jerked back, startled. "Did you just rip my shirt off?"

"Yes." He threw it on the floor, where Button promptly buried his nose in it, kicked it up with his snout, and wound up with the T-shirt on the top of his head.