Loves Bites Better

FANG DYSFUNCTION II: LOVE BITES BETTER by Anna J. Evans

FANG DYSFUNCTION II: LOVE BITES BETTER A Chippewa Publishing Publication, April 2006 Chippewa Publishing, LLC 678 Dutchman Drive, Suite 3 Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin 54729 Available Formats: Adobe Acrobat Reader (PDF) Other available formats: Palm Doc (PDB), Rocket/REB1100 (RB), Pocket PC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB), hiebook (KML), iSilo (PDB), Mobipocket (PRC), OEBFF Format (IMP), Microsoft Reader (LIT), (HTML). Fang Dysfunction II: Love Bites Better Copyright © 2005 Anna J. Evans Edited by Tami Parrington Cover Art by Djinn Proofed by Tammy Xanthakis ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole, or in part, by any means, without the written consent of the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination, or are fictitiously used. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. WARNING: The contents of this book are intended for mature audiences 18 years of age and older only. Language, violence, and sexual situations may apply. PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

Fang Dysfunction II: Love Bites Better

Kayla lay staring at the ceiling, feeling oddly dissatisfied, unable to enjoy even the pleasant weight of the mortal women draped over her body like two very sated and exhausted minks. She played with them both for hours, bringing them to the edge countless times before she had finally allowed them to climax, relishing one with her mouth as the other came powerfully around her fingers. They had passed out within seconds of each other, proving at least to her own mind that she was still the best damn fuck in New York despite the fact that she’d left her dildo at home. But then, she’d never been the type of girl who depended on props, including penises for that matter. “Fucking penises,” she muttered into the quiet of the petite blonde’s apartment, following the pronouncement with a decidedly melancholy sigh. She hated feeling this way, especially when she was at least a forty-minute train ride from her large master bath, the ultimate safe haven in times of emotional distress. But Kayla never took mortals back to her place; it was too risky. She was content to bed down in whatever accommodations were available. This time, it was a one-bedroom apartment in Queens that the little blonde, Elena, shared with her sister Carol. Thankfully, the sister had been out for the evening. Kayla sensed from Elena’s thoughts that Carol wasn’t the type to be amused with hosting an orgy at her home—especially an orgy involving three women, one of whom just happened to be a member of the undead. “Undead,” Kayla mouthed dramatically, baring her fangs to the white ceiling above her and trying to feel as monstrous and horrible as the name implied. But she didn’t feel undead, whatever the hell that was. Never had. She wasn’t a zombie for god’s sake. Besides, would someone who was technically a monster be feeling so damned depressed? No, they’d be out gleefully ripping throats or stealing old people’s

social security checks or putting boogers in the all the dishes at the local salad bar. Whatever evil they were up to, they’d be gleeful, not down in the dumps even after getting laid. Of course, she was in Queens and that was enough to depress her on a good night, let alone, after the evening she had. With a sigh, she rolled the two women gently from her, making sure they were both still out cold before starting the water for a shower. She never felt dirty after sex, sometimes even enjoyed leaving the scent of it on her for the night, relishing the little reminder of her interlude in to carnal pleasure. In her opinion, sex smelled good for at least a good five hours before it started to turn the corner into stankiness. But tonight, she had to clean herself—and quickly, preferably with some good strong soap and a loofah rough enough to take off at least two or three layers of skin. The spicy musk that she had always associated with Derrick lingered on the two women, and transferred itself to her skin as they rolled around Elena’s bed. At the time, it had been a powerful aphrodisiac, but now the scent only made her spiral deeper into a kind of sadness that she hadn’t known in years, maybe decades. She had been born a slave for god’s sake. She had known hardship—known what it was like to be treated as someone else’s property—to understand that your needs, your desires, your dreams were of absolutely no consequence and that you were nothing more than a worthless piece of colored flesh to be used as your master saw fit. Maybe that was why she’d preferred to take women as lovers. Women were less likely to try to dominate her, to force her to their will, to refuse to take no for an answer when the pleasure just wasn’t there. Or maybe she’d just tired of the lack of creativity on the part of most men, human and vampire, that she’d had the displeasure of bedding in her three hundred years. On the whole, they were selfish, lazy, and absolutely uninspired lovers. They skimped on foreplay, were squeamish about giving head, and refused to stop their mindless pounding away even when a girl made it more than clear that she was at least ten minutes and a great deal of clitoral stimulation away from getting off. Except a few of them, the best of whom was Derrick. As she stepped under the hot spray, Kayla closed her eyes and willed herself to quit thinking about the man who she’d secretly desired for more than a century. They’d been together for a brief time after his change, had enjoyed a torrid and experimental affair involving Paris, several artists’ models, and way too much red wine even for members of the undead. It had been wonderful, amazing—the best sex of Kayla’s life, and it had ended much too soon, at least for her liking. But Derrick hadn’t felt the same way. He gradually grew to consider her a good friend and nothing more. Then, nearly a hundred years later, he’d met Erin and felt that strange, inexplicable pull. Some people would call it true love, but Kayla preferred to call it by its truer name, epic lust. It was simply a combination

of pheromones, fantasy, and being in the right place at the right time. She and Derrick could have just as easily ended up together—if the cards had been dealt differently. Not that Kayla didn’t like Erin; she cared for her deeply. She had even taken her in as a roommate when Derrick had second thoughts about changing Erin into a vampire. For some reason he’d doubted that the woman he’d saved from death would want to be his mate, his one and only vampire lady throughout eternity. The man was amazingly humble for someone so ridiculously delicious. “As if any of us poor females could resist him,” Kayla laughed. The sound, low, throaty, and inviting, echoed off the tile walls. Now if only there was someone there to hear her—someone who belonged to her for more than the night, someone other than the two mortal women who were basically hand-me-downs from Derrick’s final fling as a single vamp. Kayla laughed again, remembering the look on Derrick’s face when she’d hijacked his orgy. She would have felt bad leaving him alone with Erin and a night full of awkward explanations if it hadn’t been obvious a passionate reunion was also on the menu. The sparks between the estranged couple when they’d first laid eyes on each other had left little doubt how the evening would proceed. Still, she wondered how he would take to being a mate. Kayla had no doubt that Erin would put an end to Derrick’s wild days. She would insist that he keep his dick in his pants unless it was somewhere within the immediate vicinity of her pussy. And who could blame her? If Derrick were hers, she’d keep him under lock and key and only let him out to use the toilet or bathe…if he were really, really dirty. “Get up! Move it, ladies,” a low male voice hissed from the other room. “He’ll be here any minute and you both look like you’ve been doing exactly what you’ve been doing.” “Five more minutes, Carol,” a voice Kayla recognized as Elena’s mumbled. “No, now! And who’s in the bathroom? You didn’t bring home another one of them did you? You know he killed the last one, do you have some sort of death wish for these people or what?” the voice that belonged to Carol continued, sounding thoroughly disgusted. So Carol was a cranky, prudish brother, not a sister. That could complicate things. Not that Kayla couldn’t overpower a human man just as easily as a human woman if it came to that, but she really wasn’t in the mood to deal with anything male tonight, especially a male who felt obligated to protect his little sister. “Hey, Carol, you come to join the party?” the sleepy voice of Mischa asked with a naughty little laugh. “Sorry, Mischa, you know how I feel about your little extracurricular activities—not to mention the fact that Elena is my sister. Now get the fuck up out

of that bed and get dressed,” Carol ordered. “Stepsister,” Mischa corrected in a petulant tone, “besides, I’m not any relation, baby, I can show you what you’re missing. I’m sure Kayla would be happy to give you a little nibble.” “Thanks anyway Mischa, but I don’t get off on being dinner and your bush is just too much for a man like me,” he said. “A man like you? You mean an asshole?” Mischa yelled sounding more than a little offended. “No, just a guy who’s not into Sasquatch,” Carol said, his footsteps beginning to move toward the bathroom door. Kayla turned off the water and opened the shower door, but didn’t bother reaching for a towel. She felt just fine without her clothes and it would be a good idea to throw this Carol character a little off balance. He sounded way too sure of himself for his own good. Who was he to insult Mischa’s bush? It was a rampant growth of brownish red loveliness and Kayla had thoroughly enjoyed getting lost in its depths. Sasquatch, indeed. It was amazing how men would criticize a woman for the slightest bit of unruly fuzz and in the meantime feel perfectly justified in walking around with a forest of back hair from their neck down to their equally furry butts. It was almost enough to make Kayla wish she didn’t keep her own puss neatly trimmed…almost. “Alright, buddy, fun’s over, you better get while the getting is…good,” the man Kayla assumed to be Carol trailed off as he opened the door to the bathroom and his stunning blue eyes landed on her face, then trailed down the length of her long, lean frame, lingering on her breasts, of course, before coming back to her face. Typical man, and to think she’d been thinking for a second how attractive he was. “You’re not a buddy,” he said with a twinkle in his lovely eyes and a small, embarrassed smile that would almost have been endearing if Kayla were in the mood to be endeared. “And you’re not a sister. If we’re finished with the brilliant observations I’ll be on my way,” she said coolly, stepping out of the shower and closing the distance between them in two long, graceful steps, more than a little perturbed that he stood several inches higher than her five eleven. “So they brought you home with them tonight? A woman?” he asked, still seeming a little dumbfounded by the entire idea. “You really do catch on quick. I bet they used to call you Einstein back in school.” “No, they used to call me Bubba, I’m from Tennessee,” he said with another smile, continuing to look only in her eyes, showing remarkable restraint after his

first little once-over. Still, she wasn’t in the mood to be forgiving. He’d shown his true colors in that first breast-ogling second and more than earned her disfavor with his comment about Mischa’s body hair. She did have to admit, however, that his own sandy brown hair was perfectly groomed and he didn’t have even a hint of five o’clock shadow though it was well past midnight. He was probably anal retentive about shaving, or lacked the testosterone to develop good, healthy, facial fur, the kind that scratched in just the right way when a man was kissing the skin of your belly, heading south to put his tongue to its intended use. Of course, like most men, he probably wasn’t into that either. “Um, it’s uh, something I’m still trying to live down from my younger days. It can take some time to feel confident,” he continued, swallowing hard, supposedly still talking about his ridiculous nickname. “Well then, that explains a lot about you, Carol,” Kayla returned, forcing away all thoughts of Carol’s full lips trailing along the inside of her thigh and slowly gliding past him with the slightest angling of her body. “Too bad I can’t say it’s been a pleasure.” “Wait a minute,” he said, grabbing lightly onto her elbow. She considered punching him in the face or throwing him bodily across the room for daring to touch her without permission, but decided it really wasn’t justified. The touch was both light and respectful and she couldn’t deny that a strange tingling sensation swept across her skin where he touched her and in a few other places as well. It was a tingling that she hadn’t felt in quite a while, at least not with a man. “What?” she asked instead, curious as to what he wanted. “I just had to apologize for interrupting your shower, ma’am. I don’t usually barge in on guests, but there’s someone very dangerous on their way here and I think you should get dressed and get out of here as quickly as possible,” he said. “You realize what I am don’t you?” “Well, you seem to be a lot of things. But I assume you’re talking about the vampire part, not the beautiful, intelligent woman part.” “Right,” Kayla said with a crooked smile, letting her mind poke around the edges of his consciousness, wanting to read what he was really thinking behind this attempt at good old boy charm. She’d spent a lot of years in the South—too many for her taste, and had been more than grateful to leave men like this behind. Good old boys indeed—more like conceited, chauvinistic, condescending, wife-beating, beer-guzzling, hypocritical pieces of white trash who thought they were doing her a favor by cheating on their wives with a colored girl. The years might have changed the way they went about it, but on this continent at least, there was still usually only one thing a white man wanted from a black woman. And once he’d had it, the attempts to be charming faded quickly.

“First off, that’s not fair. I, for one, don’t think it’s even true,” he said, suddenly looking a little angry as well as amused, “and it also seems a little racist.” “Racist?” Kayla asked, her mind seeing red at the word before she could even absorb the fact that he’d somehow known what she was thinking. What in the hell did ‘whitey’ know about racism? “Shh, Carol, she’s black,” Elena said, her blue eyes absurdly round in her face, clearly in shock at what her brother had just said. “I realize she’s black, Elena, but contrary to popular belief we ‘whiteys’ don’t have a corner on the racist market,” he snapped, letting go of Kayla’s arm with a dismissive air that made her a little sad. She squashed that ridiculous feeling in under a second and narrowed her eyes as she watched Carol stomp across the room to where her black pantsuit lay carefully folded on the desk chair, the one clean piece of furniture in the otherwise messy room. “You read my thoughts?” Kayla asked, trying not to sound as surprised as she felt. A human who could read minds? She’d never met one—not one in three hundred years. Sure, there were plenty of self-proclaimed psychics out there, but most of them couldn’t read a road map let alone pick up on actual thoughts. “Well it’s not like you were trying to shield them,” he snapped, thrusting the hand holding her clothes out in her direction. “Why should I bother around a bunch of mortals?” she snapped back. “Now who’s conceited and arrogant? I bet you guzzle beer on the weekends too when you’re done sucking the blood out of a bunch of innocent girls,” he yelled, walking across the room to force the clothes into her hand while Elena and Mischa just stared at them like they’d each sprouted a second head. “Innocent? You’ve got to be kidding,” Kayla blurted out with a laugh, realizing as she looked up into Carol’s eyes, that he was indeed. “Of course I’m kidding. These two sluts? They probably took advantage of you. I just hope you used protection,” he said with a laugh and a big smile that rubbed her in all the right ways. It seemed she might have misjudged this one. He didn’t seem all that bad. At least he had a sense of humor. “I’m a vampire. I don’t get cooties,” Kayla said with a smile, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to kiss the man in front of her, but deciding to get dressed instead. She was starting to feel very exposed standing there naked in front of him with her nipples standing at attention for reasons that had nothing to do with the air-conditioned room. Besides, it wasn’t the time or the place to get involved with a mortal man, even if he did make her laugh. “Wow, that’s something I didn’t know. Is that all kinds of cooties or just the crotch cootie variety?” he asked with mock seriousness, reaching out to button the top button of Kayla’s black vest, a gesture which was surprisingly intimate and sweet and made her crotch (cootieless, though it was) throb and her heart do a

strange little flutter—a flutter she hadn’t felt since Paris. “I do not have cooties!” Elena shouted from across the room where she was struggling into a decidedly strange get-up consisting mostly of leather and little silver buckles. “Please sis, the adults are trying to talk,” he tossed over his shoulder with more than a little affection. “I’m twenty three!” she said with an adolescent roll of her eyes as she tied on a mask that made her look like a blue-eyed raccoon. “Alright, I’ll bite—why the outfits?” Kayla asked, seeing that Mischa was also strapping herself into similar gear. She’d known the girls were a little kinky, but she certainly wasn’t in the mood for any more bedroom play, unless maybe it involved a certain well-groomed mortal man who had somehow gotten under her skin. “And what beautiful skin it is,” he whispered, stepping closer until the energy already sizzling between them reached a new high. Kayla darted confused eyes up to his, realizing a second too late that she had neglected to shield her thoughts once again. “You little rat,” she said a little breathlessly, “get out of my head.” “I can’t, it’s so fascinating in there,” he said, serious for the first time as he lifted a strong calloused hand to touch her face. Kayla fought the urge to gasp as more tingles raced up and down her body with a strong majority of tingles coming to pool between her thighs, making her feel achy, needy, as if she were missing something that only he could provide. “I’m not into penis,” she said, pulling back from his touch, swallowing the excess saliva that had built up in her mouth. Her mouth was literally watering for a man she had known five minutes tops. It was silly, not to mention dangerous. “You’re lying,” he said, sending her a mental image of his cock, fully erect, with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “What was that?” she asked, unable to control the strangled laugh that burst from her throat. “That was my cock,” he whispered with a little smile, “and the topping was to make it both more appetizing and less threatening.” “Less threatening?” she asked, raising one amused eyebrow. “I don’t want to scare you,” he teased, sending her another mental image of the allegedly terrifying cock, this time wearing a little Santa hat. “Was that in honor of your name Carol?” she teased. “I was born on Christmas, Christmas Carols and all that,” he returned, goofily batting his eyelashes in a way that still somehow seemed completely manly, in the good way. “What are you, a telepathic spammer?” she asked.

“No, I’m a man with a terrible crush, but we’ll have to discuss that at a later date. I’ve already wasted too much of your time. You’ve got to haul ass out of here. I’d really hate myself if something happened to you because I couldn’t stop flirting with you long enough to save your life,” he said, all humor leaving his eyes as he put his arm around her waist and led her out of the bedroom, through the micro-kitchen, to the door of the small apartment. “Pick you up at seven tomorrow?” he asked, opening the door, looking out into the stairwell, before beginning to push her out. “Hold it a second. I’m not dating you and I’m not leaving,” Kayla said, digging her heels into the floor as he used his not unimpressive strength to try to lift her bodily out the door. Still, she was a vampire and he a mortal man and she wasn’t moving unless she damn well wanted to be moved. “There’s no time to talk about this right now. I’ll explain later, but you’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got the situation under control. I’m going to get rid of this guy tonight and then I’ll be free to concentrate on more pleasurable distractions,” he said, pulling her tightly to him and lowering his mouth to hers before she could tell him firmly that she was not anyone’s ‘distraction’. But then his mouth was on hers, his lips warm and full and just soft enough, but not too soft, his tongue sweeping to meet her own with the perfect mix of assurance and hesitation. Kayla felt her arms twining around him almost against her will. A moan of pure pleasure escape her throat as she pressed into him, loving the feel of his rock hard length against her hips as his tender, talented tongue did things to her mouth that she felt all the way down to her toes. It felt so different being so close to a man after a long stretch of only female lovers. She had grown accustomed to softness, to round curves and the smell of the female of the species, salty like an ocean with flowers and citrus overtones on the skin. She had forgotten how exciting contrast could be, how arousing the feel of hard on soft, how delicious the slightly metallic taste of sheer maleness that left a fabulous tang in the mouth. She arched toward him, pressing her breasts into the muscle of his chest and rocking her hips forward, gasping at the burst of electricity that surged into her clit as she rubbed up and down his cock through the fabric of his jeans. Whoever this man was, he had some intense personal energy, and from the feel of things, wasn’t putting out any false advertising about the size of that cock, with or without its Santa hat. “Good god,” he whispered, as he tore his mouth from hers, his lips coming to pay homage to the length of her neck as his fingers dug into the soft swells of her bottom, clenching just hard enough to bring the tiniest hint of pain. Kayla suddenly felt the aching in her clit become a bruising need that traveled deep into her center and she began to grind hungrily against him, feeling more out of control than she

had in a hell of a long time, completely consumed with the need to fuck this man until neither of them could remember their own names. “I’d like nothing more,” he panted, his breath becoming even more labored as he pulled her into closer contact with his erection. He clenched his jaw as the energy surged between them again, bringing Kayla so close to coming that her knees threatened to give out from under her. “Go ahead, I’ll catch you,” he whispered, keeping one hand tightly under her bottom as he moved the other to tease her nipple through her vest. “Stop,” Kayla whispered as the sensations within her body threatened to spiral beyond her control. She didn’t like this lost feeling, no matter how delicious. She liked to be the one in control, the one telling her latest lover that it was all right to fall apart in her arms. “Let go, woman, you can be boss next time,” he said, taking her out into the hallway and pinning her to the cool concrete, beginning to thrust against her, mimicking the way he would fuck her if they both weren’t still fully clothed. “Oh no, oh stop, oh please…” Kayla heard herself mumbling mindlessly, unable to understand how she could actually be feeling the length of him inside her. She could still feel his jeans, her pants in between them, but she also somehow felt the tip of his dick pressing past the slick heat of her entry, felt his thick, warm, cock tunneling deep into her center, filling her, stretching her, claiming every inch of her like no one else. He started moving against her, his cock slamming into her as he tore open the top of her vest so that his mouth could take the dusky tip of her braless nipple deep into his mouth. As his tongue flicked repeatedly over her and his teeth took an experimental nip at her tip, Kayla knew she was a goner. Whatever this guy was up to, whatever sexual voodoo he was working on her body, she was no longer in any position to fight him. Instead, clinging to his body, hands buried in silky brown hair, she came, violently spasming around the thick shaft that wasn’t really inside of her but felt so present, so real and perfect. She shook in his arms, the pleasure unbelievable, even for a woman who’d had more than her fair share of great sex. But this was something different, this was something beyond the excellent fucking she was used to. What exactly, she wasn’t quite ready to say, but as Carol’s arms clenched around her, her name escaping from his lips in the huskiest, sexiest voice she’d ever heard, she felt profoundly satisfied and at peace. He came as hard as she had, his arms clenching around her, pulling her tighter to him as waves of release swept out from his groin. Though she had made no effort to penetrate his thoughts, hadn’t even had time to focus her mental energy, Kayla somehow found herself connected to him. She could feel the unbelievable pleasure he experienced as he came against her, could hear the nonsense words he was mumbling in his mind, most of which had to do

with how beautiful, fabulous, amazing, unbelievable, gorgeous, sexy, and beautiful she was. Not much to argue with there. “But am I the best fuck in New York?” she teased, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead as he finally stilled against her. She didn’t usually do gentle kisses, especially after the fact, but she could make an exception just this once. After all, the guy had just performed some sort of sex magic on her body; she could give him a little friendly kiss or two. “I don’t know,” he panted. “You don’t know?” she asked. “How could you not know?” “Because, I haven’t fucked you, yet. We still have all of our clothes on in case you didn’t notice,” he gasped, a quiet laugh mixed in with the still quick panting of his breath. Poor guy, he was out of shape. She would have to work with him, help him learn to recover a whole lot faster than this. He should be halfway to being hard again, not still panting like a middle-aged man at a track meet. “If you’re planning to mentally criticize, close your thoughts first please, my fragile male ego can only take so much,” he said, though he obviously made a concerted effort to regulate his breathing because when he spoke again he sounded much more in control, “and just so you know, I’m still hard, you little brat.” “Oh, so you are,” Kayla said, actually blushing a bit as he pressed himself against her still throbbing folds to prove his point. Point taken, or would soon be taken if she had anything to say about it. Slowly she moved her hands to the button of his fly, intent on seeing for herself the amazing penis that could fuck through clothing, cum like a champ, and still be going strong. “Leave me be woman,” he teased, gently putting her away from him. “You’ve got to get out of here. I’m not kidding this time. This character is not a nice guy. He’s an animal, probably climbing the walls outside as we speak. Bottom line, he’s dangerous and I don’t want anything happening to you until I can show you exactly how many rounds I can go.” “Who says I’ll give you the opportunity at a later date?” Kayla asked, having quite a bit of difficulty tearing her attention away from the mental picture of his dick or her sudden burning need to see that little one-eyed monster in the flesh. “One-eyed monster?” he laughed. “Would you prefer trouser snake?” she teased, trying to rake her fingers over the bulge in his jeans, but finding him far too adept at dodging her hand. Party pooper. “I prefer dick,” he said, darting his eyes toward the door of the apartment as if on the alert for an intruder. “How boring. So tell me about this person, exactly why are we supposed to be so terrified?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest in an attempt to control her over eager hands.

“He’s not a person, he’s a shape shifter. He looks like a normal guy part of the time, but the rest of the time looks like a dragon,” Carol said. “So?” “A really creepy dragon, with a cat of nine tails for a rear end that he likes to use to spank women,” he added. “And?” she sighed, supremely bored. Shape shifters had never intimidated her, not even in her first decade. They were an arrogant bunch of theatrical dorks in her humble opinion. “He’s a dork without a doubt, but he’s also deadly. He killed the last vampire that Elena and Mischa brought back here. That’s why I was going to take care of him tonight. The girls seemed to enjoy him before that and I didn’t consider it my business to interfere, but what he did scared the hell out of them and I don’t deal well with murder, no matter what the species.” “So you’re a vegetarian?” she asked casually. “I am, as a matter of fact, but not vegan, I’ve gotta have my yogurt,” he said, keeping a great deal of his attention on the slightly open door of the apartment. “Yogurt is unmanly,” Kayla teased, still not overly concerned. If the shifter had killed a vamp, it had to have been a newborn that had no idea how to use his powers. “How about you watch me eat it out of your pussy tomorrow night and you can tell me how unmanly it is?” he asked, the mere sound of him saying pussy sending a thrill through said body part. “Hmm, I’ll take that into consideration. I’m a vegetarian too, by the way, except for blood of course,” she said with a smile. “Of course,” he agreed wryly then began his irritating shoving toward the stairs once more. “Now, will you get out of here? As delightful as this bantering is, I have a shape shifting dragon with an S and M fetish to take care of at the moment.” “I’m not afraid of this guy, in case you haven’t noticed,” Kayla said, refusing to move. “Did you not hear the part about him killing the last vampire they had in here?” he asked, starting to sound genuinely afraid for her. That was sweet, it really was. She hadn’t had someone afraid for her in…well…in a really long time. “Carol, I think you’re actually going to need my help. I appreciate the attempt at chivalry and all, but you’re just a man. How do you expect to take this guy down with no one to help you except Mischa and Elena, who we both know will be more of a pain in the ass than anything?” Kayla asked. “You are the cockiest woman I’ve ever met,” he said, standing away from her and shifting the focus of his eyes so that he was almost looking through her. “And you may be the cockiest man I’ve ever met, but I’ve yet to see the proof so I really can’t say,” she said with a smile, a smile that dropped straight to the

floor when she felt herself being picked up by invisible hands and floated down the steps toward the entrance to the building. “Put me down,” she demanded, not liking being on the receiving end of this experience at all. She was one of the only vampires she knew who could teleport. How in the hell had this mortal man learned the skill? “I can’t put you down; this is for your own good. Just know that I’m plentyequipped to take care of this guy and that I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow night,” he said. “I don’t think so,” Kayla whispered, focusing her mind until Carol floated from the floor, evidently shocked enough by the experience that he lost his focus because a second later she crashed to the floor, her tailbone aching from the impact of bone on concrete. “Shit,” he whispered as a loud crash sounded from the room behind him. Kayla congratulated herself on the fact that neither her fall nor the crash from the apartment had distracted her mental focus and she easily kept Carol suspended in mid air while she climbed the stairs and moved around him into the apartment. “Put me down,” he demanded as she passed by, his blue eyes completely humorless for the first time since she had met him. He wanted to wring her neck; the thought was as plain as day—so plain she probably could have read his mind even if she had never ‘heard’ a thought in her life. “I’m sorry, dear; I don’t want you to get hurt. Why don’t you let me take care of this and I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow night,” Kayla said, deliberately throwing his words back in his face. Take that Mr. Bossy. “Mr. Bossy? What are you—five?” he raged as he strained against her hold with both his mind and body. Though Kayla was enjoying the display of his muscles rippling beneath his black t-shirt, she wasn’t going to let go unless she had to, unless the dragon was indeed more than she could handle with a split focus. She doubted it would come to that however. Most shape shifters were easy to dominate, once you showed them who the more powerful creature in the relationship was. They were kind of like horses; you had to use a strong hand, but they knew when to buckle under and follow the lead. “Oh Lord in heaven,” she muttered, her hand moving to cover her mouth and nose as she witnessed just what kind of a monstrosity had gotten loose in the bedroom. How in the hell had those two nymphos ever thought that something that plain ugly and foul smelling could be the least bit titillating? Young women these days, she was beginning to think she would never understand. The dragon thing greeted her intrusion with a hateful hiss over its shoulder, followed by a quick tail lashing toward where she stood in the doorway. Kayla stepped back out of reach of the fearsome looking tail, but almost blacked out as

the wave of stench from the creature’s mouth hit her full in the face. They weren’t kidding about that dragon breath; it was some seriously wretched shit. “Let them go,” she demanded, gesturing toward the girls who were now stuck to the wall with some kind of sticky grossness that Kayla could only assume was dragon snot. Hopefully, the thing understood English and would play nice, but for some reason she doubted it. Maybe it was the hissing, or the bared teeth, or the nasty slant of its beady red eyes—something told her this dragon was not in the mood to make friends or influence people. Perhaps it might be a good idea to let Carol go. Surely, two mind reading teleporters were better than one, and she had already proven her point. Even if she hadn’t, a little back up suddenly seemed like a good idea, just in case she had to lean over and vomit the next time old scaly decided to breathe heavy in her direction. The thought barely had time to cross her mind, however, before the disgusting thing scuttled backward faster than she had ever seen anything that size move. Kayla was reminded of the way lizards had darted in and out of the rock wall near the plantation where she had lived as a girl, then she stopped thinking about anything except the need to breathe because the damn dragon knocked her clean across the room with its tail. She landed hard against the wall of the micro-kitchen. Kayla was still gasping for air when the creature jumped on top of her. Its stench was truly unbearable as it bared a mouth full of nasty teeth and hissed into her face. Her eyes watered like she had just cut two hundred onions and been forced to eat them raw. Suddenly, breathing didn’t seem so important. She would gladly hold her breath forever if it meant she could escape further exposure to the dragon breath. “Get off of her,” a manly voice sounded from behind the creature, making her wonder who had burst into the room for just a second before she saw the deep brown hair and stunning blue eyes. Wow, Carol could really sound like a tough guy when he decided to quit joking around. That was probably a skill a guy developed if he was named after Christmas songs and went by the nickname of Bubba. The dragon didn’t seem terribly impressed by the manly display, however. In fact, it didn’t even flinch and seemed just as intent on eating her face or whatever it had in mind as it had the second before. As a vampire, having her face eaten off probably wouldn’t kill her, but it was an experience that she would just as soon avoid. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure things like eyes would grow back if removed and didn’t relish the idea of walking around for the next several hundred years looking like she’d stuck her face in a wood chipper. “I said, get off,” Carol repeated, this time using his considerable skills to lift the dragon into the air. Stinky didn’t like that one little bit, of course, and

proceeded to thrash and writhe about in the air like a Chinese New Year decoration on crack. As soon as the horrendous breath was no longer an issue, Kayla felt her own ability to focus return and zeroed in on the flailing limbs of the dragon. Within seconds, she had the thing pinned in the air and slowly began to divide her intention. She kept one portion of her mind focused on the dragon’s arms and legs while another tuned in to the beating of its heart and then slowly began to apply pressure to the vital organ. The creature made a sound like a strangled garbage disposal and then started to convulse. Its entire body folded in on itself as the hideous dragon shrunk into the body of a man, a very old, wrinkled man who vaguely resembled a human worm. Slowly Kayla released the pressure on his heart and Carol set the frail-looking gentleman down on the floor where he proceeded to crumple into a heap once Kayla removed her control on his limbs. “Now, Earl, can we discuss this like rational human beings?” Carol asked, sounding only slightly out of breath. Apparently, combating bad guys didn’t faze him nearly as much as dry fucking her out in the hallway. “That’s enough Kayla,” he snapped, “I’m trying to concentrate at the moment.” “You’re awfully cranky for someone who didn’t almost get his face eaten off,” she sassed back. “Call me crazy, but almost seeing the woman I think I could fall in love with become dragon bait doesn’t put me in a great mood,” he returned, not taking his eyes off the old man on the floor in front of him. “Isn’t it a little early to be using the ‘l’ word big boy?” Kayla asked, striving to ignore the way her heart jumped at his words. This was crazy. She was three hundred years old for god’s sakes, she didn’t believe in puppy love and even if she did she was certainly no puppy. “I didn’t use it, I only threatened to use it in the future, so you’d better behave yourself if you don’t want to lose your shot at me,” he replied. “Oh, I’m going to take a shot at you alright, you arrogant—” “Sweetheart please, you know how excited it makes me when you start talking dirty. Let’s save it until old Earl has promised to play nice,” Carol said. “Fuck you both,” Earl rasped with the voice of a man who’d been smoking way too many cigarettes for way too many years. “No thanks Earl, if your breath smells half as bad now as it did when you were scaly, I wouldn’t fuck you on a dare,” Kayla said, coming to her feet and brushing off her black pants. “I’ll kill you—just wait until I catch my breath,” Earl threatened, struggling to stand but only getting as far as his knees before a fit of coughing took control of his small, shriveled body and threatened to level him once more.

“Earl, you won’t be killing anyone tonight or any other night. Sorry old guy, but you’re just not the kind of flight risk I’m willing to take,” Carol said, looking genuinely sad before he let loose with a wave of psychic energy that Kayla had never felt from a vampire, let alone a human. The entire room vibrated and soon Earl was nothing but a greasy little spot on the floor and she was once again having a great deal of trouble catching her breath. “Calm down,” Carol said, crossing to her side. “Sorry you had to see that, but I didn’t have a choice.” “I’ve seen worse,” Kayla said with a small shrug, struggling to swallow and keep a firm rein on the ‘oh shit’ thoughts barreling through her mind. “I’m sure but—” “Did you get him?” interrupted a plaintive voice from the bedroom. “Yeah, be right there,” Carol shouted, giving Kayla’s hand a small squeeze before disappearing into the bedroom, presumably to free the two girls. Kayla, however, didn’t stick around to find out what else that man had on the menu for the evening. She knew exactly what he was now and felt like quite possibly the biggest fool in world for not having seen the truth right off the bat. Sweet, joking, ‘I like to send psychic pictures of my penis’ Carol was an immortal slayer, one of the few humans who were gifted with powers that could rival an immortal’s and who were capable of taking them out with a minimum of fuss. She’d never seen one, met one, or even known an immortal that had been slain by one, but had heard plenty of tales. In truth, that’s all she’d thought they were until tonight, just legends, a kind of ghost story for the ghosts to tell their children at night. “He doesn’t deal well with murder,” Kayla muttered sarcastically to herself as she stormed out the building door and headed quickly toward the nearest train station. The man murdered as a life calling. Who in the hell was he trying to kid? He was a deadly killing machine who probably dissolved people just like her into greasy spots on a daily basis and she had been halfway to believing his lies. She suddenly wondered how things would have played out between them if she hadn’t finally wised up. Would he have waited until the following night to kill her, or done her in right there, making twin puddles of goo to be cleaned up off the kitchen floor? Or would he have come to her the next evening and maybe made love to her for a few hours before he took her out? Surely slayers needed to get their rocks off too and he certainly hadn’t seemed to see the conflict of interests the first time he’d fucked her brains out in the hallway. “I didn’t fuck your brains out. We didn’t even have sex!” he screamed out down the street from about fifty feet behind her. The little fucker was fast as well as full of more shit than a constipated elephant. “Please, stop. Let me explain. I really care about you Kayla. How could you

not love a girl who compares you to a constipated elephant?” he said, sprinting harder as she began to quicken her pace toward the brightly lit metro station. Surely even a rat like him wouldn’t annihilate her in the middle of a busy public place. “I don’t want to annihilate you, psycho,” he called out. “Stop reading my mind!” she screamed back at him, finally understanding how fucking irritating it could be to have someone constantly eavesdropping on one’s thoughts. She made a silent vow never to torment her friend Erin with her mental snooping again, assuming she lived through the night. “Please Kayla, I’ll stop. I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, but I just need you to know that it’s not what I want and that I’m not what you think I am. I mean I am, but I don’t hurt good people, vampire, dragon, or whatever they are,” he pleaded, stopping at the bottom of the stairs as she raced to the top, quickly turning the turnstile with her mind. Usually, she was gracious enough to obey mortal law and purchase a metro card. But at the moment, she was in a bit of a hurry to escape a homicidal freak who had someone managed to creep into her affections, enough so, that she almost wanted to believe him, almost wanted to walk back down the stairs and into his arms. But almost wasn’t good enough and she slipped into the train doors seconds before they closed, more than a little grateful that she hadn’t been forced to wait on the platform. At this time of night, trains could be few and far between. She took it as a sign that one had been waiting there for her, doors open wide. Beckoning her back to the safety of the life she knew; a life without slayers, or penises, or men who made her want to relax the wall she’d built around her heart the day Derrick had ended their affair almost a hundred years ago. This was really for the best, she assured herself, relaxing slightly as the mental touch of Carol’s mind on hers faded away. It was past time to move house. An immortal slayer on her tail was only the final little push she needed. She’d start tomorrow—make some phone calls, and within a few days, she could be set up in a new apartment anywhere in the world, far away from all memories of the past, both ancient history and all too recent close calls. **** Kayla slept hard, like the dead…or the undead, but when she finally woke up she felt amazingly rested, refreshed, and deliriously happy. Her entire body hummed with the most delicious energy she’d ever felt, every muscle relaxed and sated as if she had just had the best massage of her life followed by a nice large glass of her favorite Cabernet. Even her toes felt loose and heavy, sinking into the fluffy feather bed beneath her. For a second she didn’t even remember why she’d

gone to bed feeling so horrible. But then, an oddly familiar male voice started speaking and it all came flooding back to her. “Good morning. Now before you start to freak out—” “You son of a bitch, you broke into my house!” Kayla screamed, shooting up into a seated position in her bed and pulling her comforter around her as if that would offer some sort of protection. For the first time, she really regretted her decision to sleep in the nude. “I like sleeping in the nude too. Why not let me join you for a little nap and we can discuss this like reasonable people,” Carol said, standing up from the comfy blue chair in the corner of the room and stripping off a pale green t-shirt. Not even the sight of all those lovely muscles or the narrow, dark brown trail of fuzz that led her eyes down to the top of his jeans could distract her at the moment, however. “Get out!”’ she ordered, pointing one long and imperious finger toward the door of the apartment. “Kayla, please, give me a break. I knocked on the door, but you were sleeping so hard you didn’t hear and I didn’t want to leave and risk missing you,” he explained. “Out!” “I cleaned the pizza stain off your carpet outside. Doesn’t that win me at least a few points?” he asked, running his hands through his hair and looking adorably flustered. “I’m moving, I couldn’t care less,” she snapped, wrapping the comforter around her and scooting to the edge of the bed, intent on getting dressed so maybe she wouldn’t feel so incredibly vulnerable. “I like you vulnerable. You looked so beautiful when you were sleeping,” he said, looking at her with a decidedly soft and mushy look in his eye. “What is wrong with you?” she asked, feeling a wave of panic sweep over her. She felt trapped, stalked, and somehow it had nothing to do with the fact that he was a slayer. “I think I’m in love with you,” he blurted out. “You don’t even know me!” she shouted, hoping somehow that sheer volume would startle some sense into the man. “I know, it’s crazy, but it’s true. I swear I’ve never felt this way before and when you ran away last night I felt like I was going to lose it. I couldn’t even go back to the apartment, just wandered around until morning feeling like the lowest form of dog shit,” he said. “That apartment is a sty and there was a dead dragon on the floor. No wonder you didn’t want to go back,” Kayla snapped, keeping her eyes on him as she grabbed the first hanger from her closet that met her groping hand.

“Listen, that’s not my fault. Elena’s the pig and I let it go since I only crash there when I’m in town on business,” he said. “Oh right, and what’s that business again, killing people like me?” Kayla asked, pulling the dress she’d snagged from the closet over her head. “No, not like you. I only deal with immortals who have overstepped themselves, who’ve started taking advantage of their power,” he said, beginning to move toward her. “Stop right there,” she said, hating the way her entire body was shaking. She believed him, knew instinctively that she had no reason to be afraid, but for some reason she couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t keep from feeling like her entire world was falling apart. “Please, Kayla, give me a chance and then if you decide you hate my guts I’ll be out of your life for good,” he said, stopping where he stood and opening his arms out, palms raised, as if he had nothing to hide. “I don’t even like penis!” she said, refusing to give in to the strange urge to start sobbing like a baby. “Well, good thing I’m not a walking dick!” he snapped back, crossing to her and trying to take her in his arms. “Don’t touch me,” she warned, holding up one shaking hand. “Okay, fine,” he said softly, “just tell me the real reason you won’t at least give this a trial run and I’ll leave. I just need to know why.” “I told you. I like women,” she protested, trying to force herself to believe that what she said was really the truth, that fear of getting close to someone again wasn’t part of the equation. “I have a woman’s name,” he said with a goofy smile, “and I’m entirely willing to cross dress upon occasion.” “You’re insane,” Kayla said, unable to stop a small smile from creeping around her lips. “No, I’m in love,” he said, slipping one arm around her waist and pulling her close. Kayla closed her eyes as the energy sizzled between them, immediately making her as wet as if they’d spent the past hour engaged in a major heavy petting session. “You’re not in love,” she sighed, trying to resist the urge to pull his lips down to her own for a little ravaging. “It’s just that I’m such an amazing fuck you’ve lost all sense of reality.” “I haven’t even fucked you yet, will you get that through your head?” he said, beginning to skim his hands up and down her back in a way that was unbelievably arousing. “A technicality. Now stop that,” she said, swaying into his embrace despite herself.

“You don’t really want me to stop,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to kiss her shoulder and then beginning to work his way up the skin of her neck. “Don’t tell me what I want,” she said, trying not to moan as he smoothed one hand up her side to cup the swell of her breast. “Okay, I won’t tell you. I’ll show you,” he said, pulling the simple green linen dress she’d just put on over her head in one swift motion and pushing her back toward the bed. As they fell back onto the feather mattress, Kayla immediately started to rip at the fly of his jeans. His bare chest felt so amazing against her skin, that she suddenly felt she would die if he did not plaster every inch of his warm flesh against her from head to toe in the next two seconds. He was more than accommodating, sliding out of jeans, shoes, and socks without breaking contact for a moment. Soon, she had all the skin she could handle and more. “Ouch!” she cried, as a feeling like an electric shock shot through her mouth when his tongue touched hers. “Sorry,” he breathed with a laugh. “I got a little carried away.” “What are you—a human conductor?” she asked with a laugh that quickly turned into a sigh as he slid his leg between hers and slowly parted her thighs, pressing the hot length of his cock against her. “Something like that, but usually I can keep it at a nice respectable level,” he breathed, nudging his dick against her clit until she writhed beneath him, half crazy with the shockwaves of pleasure flowing through her body. “Who said I like it respectable?” she panted, flipping him over on his back and pinning his arms above his head and kissing him until both of their mouths were numb and tingling. Now it was his turn to squirm beneath her as she lowered her hand to grip his length, teasing his already wet tip with her fingers as she used the power of her mind to gently squeeze his balls. He moaned and arched into her touch, his eyes squeezing closed as his breath grew progressively more out of control. Kayla smiled down into his enraptured face, feeling a wave of affection sweep over her as she realized how completely he had abandoned himself to her touch. She could have crushed his balls for all he knew, but he trusted her, completely, to the extent that he didn’t even move his arms from above his head but kept himself pinned until she decided she was ready to give up her position of dominance. “I think it’s time to settle this fucking business once and for all,” she sighed, parting her folds and positioning the head of his dick, ready to sheath his thick, throbbing length inside of her. “Wait,” he breathed, pulling away and sliding out from beneath her, bolting from the bed so quickly that his dick bobbed up and down in a way that would

have been comical if her mouth and other parts of her body weren’t watering for a taste of it. “Get back here,” she demanded, flipping onto her back and spreading her thighs, sliding her fingers down to work up and down her slick entry, letting him get a clear look at how ready she was for him. “Jesus Christ, yes ma’am I’ll be right back,” he said as he backed quickly out of the room, his eyes glued to her hands until the very last second. Kayla was getting ready to scream out a reminder that she didn’t have any crotch cooties, that he didn’t need to get a condom if that’s what he was going for, when he suddenly appeared in the door to the bedroom again, a container of what looked like vanilla yogurt in his hand. For a second she was completely baffled and then remembered his threat from the night before. “Oh my god, you didn’t,” she laughed, the smile on her face so wide she was afraid her face would crack. “I did,” he said, looking proud of himself as he ripped off the lid, took a little bit of yogurt on his finger, and then licked it off with an impressive little flick of his tongue. Seconds later that impressive tongue was doing its business between her legs, licking, suckling, and teasing every inch of her, warming the places where the cool yogurt had shocked her skin and wooing the rest of her body into total submission. As he flicked over the tip of her clit repeatedly, it became impossible to breath. The tension within her built to such a level that all she could do was bow up from the bed, arching into the mouth that was quickly taking her to a place she had never been before, even in three hundred years of sexual experience. “Fuck me, damn it…please,” she moaned, her hands gripping fistfuls of the sheets, her entire body shaking as if she would shatter into a million pieces if he didn’t end the beautiful torture he was inflicting on her vibrating clit. “With pleasure,” he growled as his mouth left her and he slid quickly up her body and positioned himself between her thighs. He drove in with exquisite slowness, first his thick head parting her lips, and then every hot inch of him filling her, stretching her. He pussy gripped his length like it would never let go, claiming his dick for her own, holding on for dear life as if it would cease to exist if he withdrew a single centimeter of his lovely flesh. And then, slowly, slowly, he was completely buried inside her body and his chest was flattened against her breasts, his belly trembling against her own and the tension between them rose to an unbelievable high, to a place where Kayla knew she would start weeping any second from the horrible beauty of it. She looked up into his eyes, meeting his gaze, feeling him look into the depths of her soul before he smiled that same crazy goofy smile that she was coming to love and shifted his hips forward, bringing his pubic bone into connection with her

clit and making her whole world explode. Suddenly, she was screaming out his name, her pussy clenching around his cock as he began to thrust in and out, each thrust taking the pleasure higher. She wrapped her long legs around him and held on for dear life, feeling the tears she’d been afraid of start to roll down her face even as she started to laugh, deep belly laughs that somehow intensified the sensation of his dick inside her body. “Don’t laugh at me while we’re having sex,” he demanded, rendering his request pointless as he started to laugh, laugh and come at the same time so that the groans of release and laughter filled the air around her and became the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. Suddenly, Kayla knew she couldn’t control herself any more and allowed herself to indulge the thirst that had started to rage through her body, biting deeply into the salty skin of his neck, feeling a second orgasm claim her as his blood flowed down her throat. He cried out loudly, a fierce primal sound of protest that soon turned into a gasp of need. As he continued to spill himself inside of her body, his blood spilled into her throat and he abandoned himself to the twin release, his pleasure tangible in her mind. “I love you,” he whispered as she removed her mouth from his neck, tenderly licking at the already swiftly healing puncture wounds. “Say it,” he continued, “say you love me too.” “You’re nuts,” she said, hugging him tightly to her with arms and legs and relishing the heavy feel of him as he relaxed on top of her, smiling at the ceiling like a vamp in her first decade and fighting the urge to giggle. “I am nuts, nuts about you. Now tell me your nuts about me,” he said. “Okay, okay. I’m nuts about you,” she said, planting a little kiss on his cheek and smiling back at him as he rose to look her in the eye. “As you should be, you little bloodsucker. Do you know I’ve never let that happen? I never really relished the idea of being dinner if you know what I’m saying,” he said, pushing a stray hair back from her face. “I remembered you saying that last night,” she confessed, “and I tried to restrain myself, but…” “You couldn’t resist me, I know. It’s a problem a lot of people have,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “Right, I’m sure the ladies line up around the block,” Kayla said giving him a hard smack on the ass that caused him to thrust against her and set her to thinking about how little she wanted to resist anything about this man. “Or the gents, I’m a babe magnet all the way around,” he said, smiling mischievously down at her as he began to grind his hips against her, swiftly bringing her near the edge.

“You do not swing both ways,” she said with a smile and then closed her eyes as a third orgasm shook her body, causing her womb to clench so hard she wondered if she might have damaged something. “True, true,” he confessed when she finally recovered, “but I’m open-minded. If you like the ladies, I could learn to like the gents. We could be same sex oriented except for our passionate interludes where we take each other to the dark side.” “I could do without the ladies for a little while,” Kayla said, not liking the idea of sharing him with anyone at the moment, regardless of whether or not they had a penis. “Ah, that’s sweet, but don’t do anything you don’t want to do. I’m sure I could learn to enjoy what other men have to offer,” he said, laughing as she rolled on top of him and slapped him on the chest. “I have a dildo baby, I’ll show you exactly what you’re missing,” she said, squeezing him with her thighs and sending him a mental image of her with her dildo strapped on, the large rubber penis topped with whipped cream and a cherry. “Oh, that makes it a lot less intimidating,” he laughed as he pulled her down to him, kissing her senseless as they rolled around the bed, wrestling and giggling so loudly that they didn’t hear the door to the apartment open or Erin enter until a startled gasp shocked them both into a seated position on the bed. “Kayla! That’s a man,” Erin squealed form the doorway. “Oh, my god!” Kayla gasped in mock horror. “You’re right, I hadn’t noticed.” “She’s right honey,” Carol said, echoing her horrified gasp. “I have a penis, it’s right here!” At that, they both collapsed back on the bed, giggling hysterically, snorting, and snickering like the biggest idiots in the world. Erin stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, looking at the both of them like they had lost their minds, wondering what the hell had gotten into Kayla and what had happened to the two girls she’d left Derrick’s with the night before. “The girls are fine,” Kayla said. “Yeah, Elena’s actually my stepsister, that’s how we met,” Carol added. “Great! Two mind weasels! Get out of my head, both of you, and get back to screwing each other’s brains out or whatever nonsense you’ve gotten up to,” Erin said, smiling at them before she slammed the door, thinking about how happy she was that Kayla seemed so happy. “Thanks Erin,” Kayla called out. Through the door, Erin thought about what a jerk Kayla was for reading her mind and then about what a nice chest Carol had and whether or not the rest of him looked as good as the top half. “Oh it’s better!” Carol answered. “Stop thinking about my man!” Kayla laughed.

“I was kidding!” Erin called out. “I’m out of here. I’ll be at Derrick’s if you need me.” As Erin left the apartment, Kayla settled back against Carol with a contented little sigh. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to his chest, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “So are you still going to move?” he asked. “No, I guess not. I mean, now that the pizza stain is out of the carpet I guess I can stay,” she teased. “Yeah, that was a tough one though, worse than the greasy, burned up dragon,” he said. “I think I deserve a little treat for taking care of that for you.” “And what kind of treat did you have in mind?” she asked, wiggling against his dick, which was quickly recovering from its spent state and getting ready for another round, or two, or three. “How about the rest of our lives, spent together in happy, orgasmy bliss?” he said, looking half-serious. “How about the rest of the month and then we’ll talk,” Kayla said firmly, not wanting to admit that the ‘rest of their lives part’ really didn’t sound too bad. He was only a mortal man after all. What was a fifty or sixty year commitment in the grand scheme of things? “Oh, and Kayla,” he said, distracting her from the amazing sensations tingling up and down her spine as he flipped her onto her stomach and began to slide himself into her from behind, “I’m actually two-hundred and seventy-five years old, with the potential to last a lot longer. Energy manipulation stops the aging process.” “Whatever, Mr. Smarty Pants,” she said, arching her hips and offering him deeper access, wiggling against him as he buried himself deeper and deeper, his balls smacking against her clit in the most delicious way. She’d think about eternity later, right now she was enjoying herself too much to care. “That’s how I’m going to get you,” he breathed, leaning down to take a little nip on her shoulder as he began to thrust harder and faster, reaching his hand underneath her body to rub firm little circles around her clit. “You’re going to be having so much fun you won’t even realize I’ve been hanging around for a few hundred years.” “Oh, shut up and fuck me,” she giggled. “Don’t laugh when I’m fucking you,” he laughed and then they both started to cum, and laugh, and cum, and Kayla decided that the bastard just might be right.

THE END

About the Author Anna J. Evans Anna J. Evans has been reading romances as long as she can remember (ever since she had to sneak them out from under her mother’s bed). Now she enjoys writing romances that celebrate sensuality and characters that aren’t afraid to laugh at themselves. She thinks life is sexier with a sense of humor and hopes you will, too. Thanks for reading. You can contact Anna via her website: http://www.laughoutloudsexy.com

Our authors love to hear from their readers! You can write to Anna here: Anna J. Evans c/o Chippewa Publishing, LLC. 678 Dutchman Drive, Suite 3 Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin 54729

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