Bit the Jackpot (Vegas Vampires #2)(39)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Seamus had to admit he was starting to like the dogs. They were such total idiots, he felt better about himself just watching them.

"Oh, okay." Cara blinked, her hands snaking over her bare chest to cross and cover.

She was hiding her br**sts from him. Seamus couldn’t believe it. It was so damn cute and sexy that she was self-conscious, shy, whatever you wanted to call it, in front of him. It made him feel a notch above the club-goers. Like him and his opinion mattered to her.

He started to grin, even as he tried to prevent it. "Drop your arms, Cara."

"No." She looked squeamish at thevery thought. Her grip on her elbows tightened.

"Drop them or I’ll do it."

That made her flush with indignation, "Screw you."

"That’s the plan." Seamus took a step toward her as she backed up a foot. "Trust me, Cara."

"Do I have to?" she asked, now hunched over a little at the shoulders.

"Yes." He put his hands on her wrists and ripped her arms apart, off her chest, and held them out at her sides. "I trust you. I do. Give me the same thing." He stared down at her, his breath hot and thick, his erection pressing into her thigh, his fangs down and ready. Her chest heaved, and she jerked her head to toss her bangs out of her eyes.

No words came out of her mouth, but her eyes pleaded with him, told him to take the risk. Seamus let go of her arms and stood still to wait for her reaction. If she covered herself back up, they had problems.

But Cara didn’t do that. Instead she fit her index fingers through two loops on his jeans left and right and stepped in close, pressing her bare chest against his. Her lips ran along his shoulder and neck, while every muscle in his body tensed with pleasure, anticipation.

"I trust you," she whispered in his ear. "Now let’s do this."

She made it sound like they were about to leap off a building or charge into battle.

Maybe they were.

Seamus turned his head so he could brush his lips over her cheek, feel her soft skin beneath his. He took her chin, tilted her head up, and kissed her gently, then franticly, then fiercely. He bit her lip, let a drop of blood bead and meander into his mouth. Her hands were on his chest, then his back, then his arse , gripping and grinding and tugging.

When she sped up, he slowed down, when she eased back, he stepped it up, so that they were both building and breaking down, ebbing and flowing, frustrated and hot. Seamus was doing it intentionally, conscious of her virginity, aware that he had only one chance to do this right, to make it good for Cara. And he wanted to draw it out for himself, enjoy Cara at length, to make a two-hundred-year celibacy end in ecstasy, not a quick three-minute explosion.

"Seamus," she murmured, trying to undo his belt.

If she was ready to move to the next stage, it was time to move to the bedroom. Seamus lifted her up into his arms and started down the hall.

"Whoa," she said. "I still can’t get used to vampire strength."

"Wait until you see my endurance."

"Don’t scare me," she said with a small laugh.

The Labs leaped around Seamus, barking, like this was a game. Satan sat in the doorway of the bedroom, looking like he’d tear Seamus’s ankle off if he attempted entry.

"If you guys trip me, you’re going to the pound," he told them.

Cara made a sound of horror. "Don’t say that! Daddy didn’t mean it, sweeties. And if he did, Mommy wouldn’t let him do such a horrible, nasty thing."

She made ushy , gushy, shushing sounds while Seamus contemplated fatherhood to Cara’s furry brood. It wasn’t a horrifying thought. He had raised dogs for years inEngland . But they’d stayed in the kennel, like dogs should. They hadn’t lived in the house with him, sleeping in his bed, and he had never once thought of himself as their daddy.

While he couldn’t imagine he’d ever think of any four-legged creature as his baby, he liked that Cara was placing him in that role. She didn’t want to move out. She wanted to stay with him, with her dogs.For now, anyway. And that was good enough for him.

He stepped into the bedroom. When the dogs would have bounded in after them, he put out his finger and commanded, "Sit."

Button and Fritz plopped their rumps down in the hall, their tails swishing back and forth. "Good boys."

Satan, who had been sitting, stood up at the command to sit. Seamus used his foot to encourage Satan to run out into the hallway.

Then he slammed the door shut on all of them.

"That was mean," Cara reprimanded.

"I don’t need an audience, I’m sorry. They’ll get over it." Seamus laid Cara down on his bed—their bed—and stepped back to undo his belt buckle.

She bent her knees so her legs were up in the air, but she didn’t cover her chest. In fact, she thrust it toward him in a sexy little pose. Her skin was pale, milky white, the moonlight streaming through the wood blinds onto the bed, onto Cara’s beauty.

Seamus just about stopped breathing."You’re so beautiful," he said, fingers freezing on his zipper. "Damn, Cara, I just can’t tell you how gorgeous I think you are. That night the night I met you. It was like you just drew me in.Like you are now."

Man, he needed to just stop talking around her. Instead of the Irish gift of the gab, he had the gift of the gag.

"You’re not just saying that, are you? You’re not playing me?" she asked with a saucy grin, fingertips sliding across the ends of her black silky hair.

"No. If I was being a player, I’d sound better than this." He shook his head as he unzipped his black pants. "I sound like a potato farmer around you.Nothing like a man who spends his night strategizing politics and putting a spin on words and policies."

"I like you both ways. When you talk shop with Ethan, you sound commanding and in charge. It’s sexy. But when you’re with me, you’re more real and that’s sexy, too."

He couldn’t see how a bumbling idiot would be sexy, but he wasn’t about to talk her out of it. Instead he ditched his shoes, socks, and pants and leaned over the bed, running the gristle of his unshaven chin over the smooth denim covering Cara’s knees. He stroked one hand down her calf and used the other to undo her pants. Her breathing had changed, her eyes widening, and he knew she was as aroused as he was.

Before taking her pants off, he bent over and ran his lips along her ni**les, closing his eyes, breathing in her scent. Goose bumps rose on her warm flesh and she shifted, lifting her chest.

"Do you want this?" he asked, pulling one tight nipple into his mouth and sucking, reveling in the feel, the texture, the moan she gave. It had been so long since he’d made love to a woman, he’d nearly forgotten the torturous pleasure, the slow cadence of sex, the teasing anticipation, the discovery of a woman’s erogenous areas.