The Fangover (The Fangover #1)(45)
Author: Erin McCarthy

He released a shuddering breath, revealing he liked her touch.

She liked it, too, but she was greedy for more of him. All of him.

Her hand slipped down his chest to discover a light dusting of hair that swirled around his navel and then narrowed downward into his jeans.

She followed the trail, her fingers moving to work at his belt. But his hand came down to cover hers.

“Not yet.”

She looked at him quizzically. He was going to make her wait? She’d waited three years already.

But then his hands moved to the button of her jeans. He deftly popped the metal fastener open then slowly slid down the zipper.

Katie gasped before he even touched her. Just the knowledge that he would had her painfully aroused. She ached between her legs, a feeling painful and wonderful all at once.

Then he actually lifted her, his arm sliding underneath her and raising her off the bed. With his free hand, he worked her jeans down over the curves of her hips. Definitely a vampire trick.

He settled her back amidst the bedding, bare from the waist down. She was glad she’d gone for a waxing just the day before—especially if that trait about being a vampire was like it was in Anne Rice’s version. She could just picture a scene like the one where Claudia hacked off all her thick, curly locks only to have them reappear exactly the same. Claudia had been utterly freaked out by that. Imagine if the thick, curly hair was on another part of your body.

That would be highly embarrassing as well as a nuisance.

Okay, she must be slightly delirious about what was happening, if she could think of something like that at a moment like this, she thought, gazing up at Cort, who studied her with a hot, intense gaze under hooded eyes.

Her body reacted to the look, burning for him.

He reached for her hands, pulling her into a sitting position. Then as slowly and sensually as he’d removed her pants, he peeled off her T-shirt. He tossed the garment to the floor. Then her pink lace bra joined the rest of her clothes.

Her first inclination was to cover herself, but she fought the feeling. She’d waited so long for this. She wanted it so badly, she wasn’t going to shy away from Cort in any way.

And again, when she looked at his expression, all she saw was desire that seemed to match her own.

“God, I want to touch you everywhere,” he murmured. He grazed his fingertips lightly over her breast. Her nipple tightened to the touch.

She groaned, the slight, fleeting caress enough to make her nearly explode. Dear God, what would it be like to have him fondle her more or press his lips to her or, she shivered with need, to have him deep inside her.

Then he leaned forward and caught her painfully sensitive nipple between his lips, and she couldn’t stop herself. She cried out as the most intense orgasm of her life shook her whole body.

Chapter Sixteen

THE TAO OF SAXON

WYATT had seen a lot in his lifetime. What he never would have expected to see was Stella rolling around on the floor of a bar in the throes of a full-blown girl fight.

He stopped in the doorway of the bar, so astonished that he couldn’t even react. “What . . .”

Peter the bartender was coming out from behind the bar, cursing. “God, I hate this shit. I hate drunks. I hate women. I hate my job.”

This was so unlike Stella, that Wyatt still stood there, wondering if Stella had a doppelganger. She tossed the woman off of her with a fair amount of restraint for a vampire, but with way more anger and intensity than he would expect from Stella. Stella was calm. Stella took care of everyone else. Stella did not fight with anyone. Except maybe with him. But that was only in the last few days.

Stella was half up off the floor when the woman launched herself at Stella again with a growl. There was a lot of hair flying, screaming, and fistfuls of T-shirt as they slammed back onto the ground.

Peter pulled the blonde off Stella, who hissed and kicked like a cat.

Wyatt finally got his head out of his ass and moved forward to help Stella up. Only she kicked out at him. “Get away from me, you lying sack of shit!”

Uh. Now what? Wyatt stared down at her, speechless. Where was the woman who had kissed him so tenderly on the street an hour ago?

“What are you doing?” he asked her. “I told you to stay at Famous Door. I was worried about you.”

“Worried you were going to get caught in your lies.” Stella sprang up off the floor, swiping her hair off her face, and adjusting her purse. After patting her pocket to reassure herself something was there, she glared at him. “How could you?”

“If I knew what I supposedly did, maybe I could answer that a little better.”

Her reply was a snort of disgust. Wyatt didn’t know if she would have expanded on that or not because the other woman suddenly darted around him and took a swipe at Stella.

“She’s loose! Grab her!” Peter said. “I’m calling the cops. I’m not paid to deal with women fighting over a dude.”

They were fighting over a dude? Wyatt caught the blonde as she hurtled past him and lifted her up so that her feet dangled uselessly.

“Put me down!”

“Can someone explain to me what the hell is going on?” Wyatt said, exasperated. Fortunately, his vampire strength allowed him to hold the woman with ease, but she was still getting a kick in on his shins every other second and he was not enjoying it. He turned her to the side a little so he could see Stella better.

“She was wearing Johnny’s necklace. She says you gave it to her.”

Wyatt stared at her blankly. She looked spitting mad. He had no idea what she was talking about. “I never had Johnny’s necklace. I left it on the counter of his apartment.”

“That’s what you said. But why did she have it then?” Stella pulled the necklace out of her front pocket and held it up in front of him.

It was definitely Johnny’s necklace. There couldn’t be two of them. What the hell?

“I had it because Wyatt gave it to me!” This was from the dangling woman.

Wyatt dropped her to the ground so he could take a good look at her face. He knew her vaguely. “Karen?”

“Yes, Karen, you ass**le. Don’t even stand here and try to tell me you don’t remember last night.”

Actually, he did not remember last night at all. A sick, horrible feeling started to twist in his gut. He wouldn’t have. He couldn’t have. Not even drunk or drugged or whatever the hell he had been last night. He wouldn’t have cheated on Stella. Because in his mind that’s what it would have been, even if they didn’t have any real understanding of what was going on between them. He wanted to be with Stella. He wouldn’t have been with Karen.