Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Accidentally Yours #4)(39)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

He turned off the headlights. “I planned to carry you, Oh Divine One,” he whispered. “Your feet”—which I’m about to scrub like a lowly servant—“should not touch the ground.”

Ixtab turned his way. “Piggyback? You expect me to ride piggyback on an icky vampire?” she spat.

This groveling crap was awful. An insult to every molecule of testosterone in his body. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’d hurt her while she was rubbing the tip of his—

He cleared his mind. Don’t think of it. Don’t think of it… His erection had finally abated, and gods only knew how long that would last.

“Yes, Oh Divine One,” he replied. “You will ride me.” Christ. Did I really just say that? “I meant, piggyback, of course.”

“Ugh! Fine.” She opened her door and turned away, waiting for him to pick her up from the passenger side.

He exited the vehicle with a sigh, walked to her side, and turned his back to her. “Get on.”

“Get on?”

“Oh Divine One,” he added.

First, he felt Ixtab’s hands clutch his shoulders. Next, her body slammed into his, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He quickly braced himself against the Jeep and held back a lusty groan. Gods be damned, the sensation of this goddess touching his body was torture. And beyond any pleasure he’d ever known. The mere feel of her br**sts pressed against his back was enough to make him bust his zipper again. Thank gods he wore his new leather pants with the triple stitch.

“You okay, vampire?” Ixtab whispered in his ear with a breath that heated his lobe and shot right down to his shaft. “Or am I too much for you to handle?”

He gave his head a little shake, righted himself, and stood straight. “No. Just fine, Oh Divine One.” He sucked in a lungful of restraint and marched down the torch-lit path, trying to think of anything but Ixtab’s body—her most intimate parts included—pushed against him. No, he would not think about the fact that her dress was hiked up well past her upper thighs and she wore no panties. He would not think about how her voluptuous br**sts jiggled against his shoulder blades with each step or how the silky skin of her arms and legs rubbed against his new, overly sensitive vampire skin and filled him with a euphoria that could only be described as the world’s most addictive supernatural narcotic, which took away his hunger along with his darkest thoughts and filled him with strength.

Oh, gods. He suddenly found himself fiercely desiring step number five—offering himself for a night of pleasure—which scared the hell out of him. For starters, Ixtab’s sister had said she was a monster. So what sort of face truly lay beneath that veil? If her lips were any indication, she had to be beautiful.

But the sister hadn’t said, “She’s a little homely and might someday grow out of it.” No. She’d said, “monster,” which meant heinous. Repugnant. Shockingly ugly. Did Ixtab’s face reflect images of the thousands of souls she’d taken? Or perhaps her features were marred with a horrid disfigurement. Why else would she want to hide it? Surely shame wasn’t the real answer. Second, despite what his rock solid dick said, his heart knew what it felt. He believed in fate and having a destiny; his destiny was opening that portal. His destiny was… her—the woman from his dreams. He could feel it with every fiber of his being, and with each passing minute, he knew only holding her, saving her, taking away her pain would bring peace.

To prove his point, Antonio closed his eyes for a moment and instantly heard her words filled with desperation, “The stars and the moon know I’m telling you the truth. Why won’t you listen, Antonio? Stay away from her…” Then those haunting eyes stared back at him from the walls of his eyelids.

His raging of lust instantly abated. That’s right, idiota. Now think about the weather—or… fucking stars and the moon! Whatever it takes to get on with this night, so you can continue your work.

Whatever happened, he needed to ensure the goddess would not accept any offers of pleasure for the evening. Not that it should be a problem; she already thought of him as a despicable creature. She’d said so herself numerous times. Her earlier actions prior to the accident must have simply been one of her evil tricks intended to torture him. That’s right. She admitted she enjoyed watching others suffer, watching him suffer. She’d likely intended to work him into a sexual lather and then skip away. And he would not allow himself to fall for that trick again. No matter what his body said.

“The place is an improvement over the New York winter weather, is it not, goddess?” He glanced up at the brilliant, starlit, tropical sky. Gorgeous. “Reminds me of the night with your sister.”

She dug her heels into his sides like a rider spurring a belligerent horse.

“Ow. What was that for?” he asked.

“You spent the night with my sister?” she growled. “Which one? Fate?”

She had a sore spot for her sister, did she? He made a mental note—could come in handy later. “Your sister Cimil, actually. We spent a very… interesting evening in Mexico together when I found the tablet.” Yes, it had been interesting. And by interesting, he meant disturbing. She continually rambled on and on about the understated joy of treasure hunting at garage sales. Then she froze in midsentence and made little circles with her h*ps as if spinning an invisible Hula-Hoop. He juddered.

“Oh. Cimil.” Ixtab’s killer heel grip relaxed.

Apparently she didn’t see Cimil as a threat. Another mental note.

After several minutes of marching down the narrow path lined with thick-leaved plants and small torches, they arrived at an arched entryway with a wrought iron gate. He set the goddess down and tried to ignore how she felt when she slid down his back.

He pulled out his sheet of paper and punched in the code. The gate unlatched, and he pushed. Inside was a lush garden, spacious courtyard with an illuminated fountain, small fire pit, and soft music playing—Spanish guitar—from hidden speakers. He approached the elaborate stained glass front door and entered. It reminded him of his family’s beach home back in Spain. Warm sandstone-colored tile, wide-open living room leading out to what appeared to be a long torch-lit dock, and an indoor fire pit in the middle of the room with a giant stainless steel extractor. The muggy tropical air wasn’t the least bit cold, but the fire looked warm and inviting nonetheless.

Antonio glanced over his shoulder at Ixtab. Weather, weather, weather. Think weather. Think of the woman in your dreams. Think stars and moon. Think of anything but Ixtab’s smell… “The bedrooms look to be in that direction if you’d like to freshen up.” He nodded to her right.