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sorta collapsed, poor Remy getting squashed between him
and Vance, just panting and groaning.
He stroked Vance's shoulder, right on up to the sluggish
trail of blood on Vance's throat. "I'm coming with you."
"Yeah, yeah. We all go, yeah, Boss? Hunt down the crazy
cracker. Cain't you get to feeding him?"
"We could buy Remy a ball gag. It would be cute."
Clay laughed out loud, patting Remy's butt with his free
hand. "We could. It would. He might kill us in our sleep. I'll
cook."
Vance rolled his eyes, grinned. "I'm not ready to die quite
yet. Sorry."
"Yeah. Yeah, I hear you, honey." They all sorta stuck
together when he moved, but Clay made it to his feet, intent
on feeding his men so they could get on with what they had
to do next.
That whole talking thing just hadn't worked out worth a
shit.
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Long Black Cadillac
by B. A. Tortuga
Chapter Fourteen
Road trips with a blood sucker?
Fucking challenging.
Between trying to find a hotel that let them check in late
or early and keeping Clay from nibbling on folks or Remy from
growling and pulling the bat out of the trunk, Vance was
considering daring the Colonel to come get his happy ass.
Not only that, but nothing he ate was helping the gnawing
hunger in his belly and Remy was looking fucking tasty.
He obviously needed a drink.
Of whiskey.
Or beer.
Damn it.
Remy looked at him, one black eyebrow arched. He glared
over. "What're you looking at?"
"You, Boo. You got a wild eye. I seen it with the boss."
Asshole.
He headed out of the motel room, needing a smoke. The
morning sun made him wince, made him keep to the
shadows. Jesus.
A heavy hand smacked the window as he passed. "Get
your ass back in here, Vance."
"I don't take fucking orders." Still, he leaned against the
window, pulled his hat down farther.
"Honey, you're gonna burn yourself." He could hear the
growl, the deep animal sound of Clay's voice. "Please..."
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"Yeah..." He stumbled back, helped the last few steps by
Remy, the stocky little Cajun easing him in before sealing
doors and windows.
"I got 'im, Cheri."
"Thanks, babe." Clay was there right away, pulling at his
clothes, looking him over. They staggered to the bed, Clay
pulling him down, pressing his face to that long neck. Vance
just growled, body convulsing as he bit down, so hungry.
Needing so fucking bad it hurt.
Clay held him there, rumbling, words coming out that
made no sense. Oh. Oh, the ache started to ease as soon as
the blood began to flow. Something in him was screaming,
jumping up and down and pointing out that he was drinking a
bloodsucker's blood, for chrissake, and that had to be, at
best, unhygenic.
The hungry part of him squashed that screaming bit with
Remy's bat.
Wrapping around him, Clay gave him more, head tilting
back so he could get a better angle. Okay, who needed beer?
The ache inside him eased and he found himself nuzzling and
licking, the ferocity easing right on up.
"That's it. That's it, babe." Petting, Clay hummed for him,
relaxed against him, too. He hadn't realized how tense Clay
had been to begin with.
"Mmmhmm." He caught himself rubbing, hands shaping
Clay's body. Muscled bastard.
"Hey. Better?" Clay kissed the corner of his mouth, holding
him right against that fine body.
"Uh-huh." He nodded, almost drunk with it, fucking giddy.
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Stupid, but true.
"Good. Gonna drive me crazy, honey. I swear. Restless
bastard."
"Short putt, Boss." Remy's hand slid up his spine, a cool
cloth cleaning the sweat from him. "This okay, Boo?"
"Yeah. Yeah, man. Thanks."
"You're a good 'un, Rem." Clay patted his ass, licking the
moisture off his cheek. "I owe you a big bag of beignets."
"Oo-eee! I could go for that, Cheri."
Vance chuckled, stealing a kiss from Clay. Remy was
something. Something special.
Short bus special.
"Right now you could snuggle with us..." The air
conditioner was on full blast, so snuggling would be okay. He
almost approved. Clay went on. "I ain't heading out again
until nightfall. No more trunk."
Remy nodded, pressing close like he belonged there,
cuddled with them. "We need a day or two, Boss. Just to rest.
Boo's all sunburned."
"Then we stay and rest. Snack a little. Play tiddly winks."
He could feel Clay laughing, chest rising and falling.
"Tiddly winks. Christ." He snorted, blinking slow and then
slower. Better than naked mayonnaise Twister, he guessed.
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Long Black Cadillac
by B. A. Tortuga
Chapter Fifteen
The whole road trip experience was a nightmare.
Clay wanted his little house back in the swamp. He wanted
his occasional foray into town to feed. He wanted poker night
with Remy and his pals. Of course most of all he wanted
Vance free of this damned Colonel so they could just go off
and fuck and bite and sweat and have each other for a good
long while. Which was why he was somewhere around the
North Carolina-Virginia line, looking for a cheap motel that
would let them check in near sunrise. "Wake up, y'all. I'm
fixing to have to get in the trunk."
Vance blinked, frowned. "We need a hotel, huh? Where are
we?"
"Almost there, babe. You need to tell me where to go." Oh,
like Vance didn't do that a million times a day.
"Mmm ... There's a little place right around here. Cabins.
It's off-season enough we can get one. I've stayed there
before. Lots."
Vance pushed up into the front seat, staring in the dark.
"Four or five miles up on the left, unless it's gone."
"Okay." Vance's vision had improved. Clay wondered if the
man had even noticed. Probably not, as deep as he was sunk
in denial.
Warm fingers slid on his thigh, tracing the seam of his
jeans. Teasing. "Man, it feels like winter's coming."
"Hmmm? You cold?" He was not so good at reading the
weather anymore. Hell, he lived in the swamp.
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"Not yet, but I can smell it. On the air. There. That road."
Sure enough, there was a sign with a little cabin on it.
"Got it." They wheeled into the lane, heading right up to
the rental cabins. "We'll let Remy check us in, as your colonel
likely don't know about him."
"Yeah. There's a trick to the doors. Come on." Vance
nudged Remy on the way out of the door, moving like a
predator in the fading night. Clay followed, prowling after
Vance, all of his hunting instincts suddenly up. Jesus, would
you look at that man. Vance looked back, eyes flashing,
daring him, challenging him. Hell, yes. He could so get him
some of that.
Like a startled fucking deer, Clay took off after Vance,
ready to run the man down and eat him up. He hadn't had a
chase in too long. Vance took off like a bat out of Hell,
heading for the cabins, racing him and the sunlight.
Yes. God, yes. Clay sped up, his footfalls silent, his hands
clenching and unclenching. He needed. He could smell
Vance blood and sex and excitement as the man worked
the door, fighting his way inside.
He made the door just as Vance slid through, leaping,
missing Vance by mere inches. Damn it. Clay whirled,
reaching. Vance's heat just escaped his fingers as Vance
jumped for the bed and he followed, landing hard on Vance,
the bedsprings creaking. Snarling, he bent to take his due, his
teeth reaching for that fine throat. Yeah, he could hear
Vance's heartbeat.
"No. Fucking. Biting." Vance twisted, bringing that throat
just that much closer, the struggle sweet.
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"No. No biting." He said it just before his teeth sank in, the
taste of Vance exploding through him.
"Clay!" Vance's hands held his mouth close, the life
pouring into him, sweet and wild and tinged with an addictive
darkness. All he had to do was turn just so, offering his own
throat to Vance, letting the man have him right back. It went
both ways. When Vance's teeth sank in, something snapped
into place and things went red, the pulsing in his ears so loud
his brains seemed to slosh around in his skull a little. Fuck
him.
Of course, the sloshing thing could be Remy, whacking at [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]