Red Hunger Crystal Kauffman Book one in the Night Squad series. When the sexy trucker he‟s fantasized about turns out to be a CIA assassin—and a vampire—whose team needs his help to bring down a drug dealer, bartender Vince West lets go of inhibitions he‟s harbored too long and admits his sexuality, allowing himself the freedom to share his bed with Jas. But in agreeing to help the Night Squad, Vince gives up his dreams of returning to San Francisco. He knows he probably won‟t survive the sting, whether it‟s the drug dealers who get him…or the vampires. Jas Tudor and his team need Vince to lead them to a drug kingpin, but Jas‟ interest in the handsome bartender with the ultra-sweet blood goes deeper. He lures Vince out of his protective shell and enjoys taking him to unimaginable heights of pleasure, even as Jas counts his regrets. His team is swift and destructive, and rarely leaves behind survivors. If Vince doesn‟t end up as collateral damage, the vampires will mind-wipe him when the operation concludes, destroying his memories of their magical time together.
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Red Hunger ISBN 9781419936647 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Red Hunger Copyright © 2011 Crystal Kauffman Edited by Grace Bradley Cover design by Syneca Electronic book publication November 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora‟s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora‟s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher‟s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author‟s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author‟s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.
RED HUNGER Crystal Kauffman
Crystal Kauffman
Chapter One With the funeral only two days away, Vince West was finally free to plan his departure from this hick town and return to San Francisco. For good this time. After selling the house he‟d inherited and having saved his salary for the two years he lived with his ailing mother, providing care as cancer whittled her away, he might have enough to buy the San Francisco condo he‟d been dreaming about his entire life. He‟d never wanted to come back to Podunkville. He hated this redneck town and everyone—except his mother—in it. Now she was gone, and there was nothing but her upcoming funeral keeping him here. Thank God. “Hey, Vinnie, how ‟bout another?” Vince poured a Sam Adams and slid the glass down the pitted wooden bar. He‟d left home at seventeen, two years after his mother married Rod Brogan, a miserable son of a bitch who‟d developed an instant affinity for pounding on Vince on a regular basis. The old bastard always eyed him with a scowl that seemed to cut right through him, as if he could see through the façade Vince put up to the world and knew he was a closeted queer. Probably the only reason Rod didn‟t call him on it was he was mortified about having a gay kid in the house, even if Vince wasn‟t his. He sensed a new customer slide up to the bar and headed that way. He gave his standard “what‟ll ya have” while mostly avoiding eye contact. “What do you have on tap?” The newcomer‟s deep baritone jerked him back to the here and now, resonating over every nerve ending. The man had been in here before, part of the trucker crowd that stopped occasionally on their cross-country hauls. Vince didn‟t know his name, but he knew the man was dangerous. Everyone here was dangerous. If the regulars who frequented this bar knew he was gay, they‟d beat the shit out of each other for first rights to beat the shit out of him. He presented the same disinterest to all his customers—rednecks, gangbangers and truckers alike. Vince was the world‟s greatest invisible bartender. “Amstel, Heineken, Budweiser and Sierra Nevada.” He unloaded a tray of clean mugs as he listed them, careful to make no more than fleeting eye contact. The trucker was fucking hot, and had an effortless power to unnerve him. Vince vividly remembered each one of his three previous visits to Rowdy‟s. There was something in the way the guy looked at him that had purpose, intensity. Vince knew he was imagining whatever he saw in those looks, but had lain awake nights thinking about the guy after those previous stops. Now those fantasies were flashing in his head like neon banners.
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With long black hair and a goatee, and somewhat ratty clothes, he wasn‟t the usual type that interested Vince. But beneath the grungy appearance his clear, healthy skin and straight, white teeth hinted at better hygiene than the front revealed. Smooth, tapered fingers and neat, clean nails were the giveaway. His eyes were the most amazing part of his handsome face. Their blue was almost turquoise, under heavy brows that hinted at a deeper intellect than the typical beer-swilling, tramp-chasing grunts that frequented Rowdy‟s. “Real extravagant menu you got there.” “What the fuck do you want from a dump like this?” Vince demanded a little too gruffly. “Gimme a bottle of Dos Equis. I prefer Mexican beer.” He popped the bottle and poured the beer, careful to avoid a head, but smacked it down hard enough to slosh. “Four fifty.” He turned away and cleaned up the back counter as a sweat broke out on his brow. Twenty minutes until two. Thank God he could announce last call in five minutes. The trucker tossed out a ten. “Keep it.” Vince nodded, the extent of his gratitude even though it was what counted as a good tip in this dump. He wished the guy would find another piss hole to drink from. He didn‟t need a reminder of how cold and lonely the last two years had been in the form of an unattainable stud who sent his mouth watering. “I‟m in from Stockton with a feather of artichokes. Looking to add to my load.” Vince merely glanced at him as he shifted dirty glasses onto the now empty dishwasher tray. “You know how I can put on some weight?” “What?” he tossed back, pretending ignorance. He knew exactly what the guy wanted, and it ate a hole in his gut. And strangely, it also brought a sense of relief. If the guy was a drug runner, he was vermin Vince wouldn‟t touch wearing a hazmat suit. “Vince, go unload the Firestones that came in this afternoon.” Bill, his boss and the owner of the “dump”, hiked his pants under his beach ball gut as he walked the length of the bar. Vince hoped he hadn‟t overheard that little endearment. He did as he was told, grateful for a reason to leave the front until closing. If Johnny Depp were to walk through the front door and ask him for a date, Vince would tell him to fuck off. That‟s how off-limits any male in the state of Utah was to him. He couldn‟t wait to get back to San Francisco and attend civilized functions with successful, handsome, eligible men. Out here what passed for style was oversized truck tires and sterling silver wallet chains. Vince was glad Mr. Dark and Mysterious was a drug-carrying loser. Learning this was like a slap upside the head. What the hell had he been thinking, even fantasizing about the guy? His idea of sexy was neatly trimmed hair, designer suits and successful portfolios. He‟d do well not to let himself forget that.
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He unloaded the Firestones, knowing Bill wouldn‟t ask him to do such heavy work at the end of his shift when he was tired unless he wanted to get rid of him. He then hefted the trash and hauled it out the back door. The empties could wait until tomorrow. Or maybe he‟d just leave them. Maybe he wouldn‟t even show up tomorrow.
***** His mother‟s house wasn‟t that far out in the woods, but at three in the morning when a car rolled up the drive, the gravel popping under its tires sounded like gunshots in the still night. The sound was menacing. If he knew one thing about gay bashers, they crept up tauntingly when you were at your most vulnerable, slinking like lions on the prowl. Was it Brogan? The old fucker couldn‟t even get out of bed without help, let alone drive himself out here from the nursing home, but he was certainly mad enough to send someone to do his dirty work. After her death, they‟d both learned Vince‟s shrewd mother had put her house in Vince‟s name before marrying the redneck bastard, and there wasn‟t a damn thing Brogan could do to get his grubby hands on it. Vince threw the covers back and flew out of bed. He smashed four out of five toes as he rediscovered his mother‟s horrible plaid couch in the living room. “Damn it!” He limped the rest of the way to the front window and lifted the edge of the curtain. At first he thought he was imagining what he saw. A long black limousine nosed out of the trees, creeping its way eerily up the long gravel drive. Holy shit. That wasn‟t a limo—it was a hearse. And it certainly wasn‟t the elegant hearse that would take his mother‟s coffin to the picturesque cemetery in three days. It was a classic old Caddy straight out of a horror movie. Every instinct told him to run. This could only mean bad news to come. He hurried back to the bedroom and dragged on jeans and a flannel jacket without a shirt. His panic rose as he chose flight. He needed shoes. He‟d never make it through the woods without them. He stuffed his feet into his hikers, forgoing socks. With his heart climbing up his throat, he decided to take one last look out the front window before running off half-cocked into the woods. He wished he hadn‟t. The hearse had pulled to a stop sideways to the house. It idled, headlights throwing two foggy beams into the forest, a plume of steam billowing from the tailpipe. Four figures stood in front of it, silhouetted eerily. Vincent West. They were here for him. A surge of adrenaline made his scalp prickle. His name hadn‟t been so much called aloud as moaned by a ghost. Fuck this. Vince turned and ran.
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***** “Jesus. Did you have to do that?” Jas scowled at Ruben. Humans hadn‟t reacted well to psychic suggestion since the end of the eighteenth century, when science had surpassed myth and people had begun to lose their superstitions. Nowadays far fewer people believed in ghosts, and psychic suggestion only made most people think their meds weren‟t strong enough. Ruben shrugged. “It works more often than you‟d think.” “Yeah, it‟s the only way Rube can get a date, so he‟s in practice.” Edge laughed at his jibe. Jas sighed. The idea here wasn‟t to scare the guy to death. “I‟ll get him.” With his acute hearing and ability to see in near-pitch environments, Jas could easily overtake him, but he didn‟t want to freak the poor guy out any more than he already was. Jas didn‟t think Vince knew he was a vampire, and understood his fear was inspired by something entirely different. The others hadn‟t seen how Vince reacted when Jas was in the bar. They hadn‟t read the flush in his skin, heard the increased rush of blood in his veins, or seen the heat signature of his throbbing cock. Vincent West was guarding a secret that could get him killed in Hillbillyville. “Hey, Vince! Hold up.” Jas tried to sound as normal as possible, even though the guy would probably find it strange that he‟d caught him so quickly. While vamps couldn‟t fly like Hollywood sometimes portrayed, the accelerated speed he was capable of could make it seem that way, especially if he took a running jump. Vince tossed a glance over his shoulder. He tripped and went down just as Jas clamped a hand on his shoulder, and Jas tumbled down right on top of him. They landed face-to-face on a bed of dry pine needles. At once Vince‟s rich musk-and-honey scent engulfed him, washing away the tang of Ponderosa pine. His pulse was pumping and his adrenaline raging, making his blood smell even sweeter. “Why are you running?” Vince‟s body went stiff as a pine trunk. “Why are you chasing?” His voice broke over the question, Adam‟s apple bobbing. The waning moon cast a silver glow, turning his green eyes gray. Tiny crescents reflected in their wide pupils. When Vince thrashed, Jas seized his wrists and pinned them to the ground. “Dude, take it easy.” Damn, this had gotten out of control fast. “What do you want? How did you know where I live?” Vince‟s heart was pounding, his panic rising with all the obvious signs. “Phone book.” Jas glanced down at his pulsing jugular, all thoughts going to the lead pipe in Vince‟s pants that was currently throbbing against his abdomen. “You‟re not that hard to find.” “My mother is in the phone book.” Vince swallowed again. “I‟m not.” 8
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“I just want to talk to you.” And take a taste of your ultra-rare blood. Shit, he hoped he hadn‟t channeled that. It was his occupation as Bill Wheeler‟s bartender that made the team consider Vince, but it was his unique and rare scent, and his obvious attraction for Jas that had made him hope the others would choose him for the task. “You‟re on top of me.” Vince was as tense as steel wire, but didn‟t try to fight. Jas grinned. “Yeah. I kind of like it.” That didn‟t bring the reaction he expected. Vince closed his eyes and turned his head. “What‟s your blood type?” His eyes shot open again. “Oh Jesus.” Jas had been expecting him to say O positive, and Vince‟s oath made him laugh. Then he realized the problem. Fangs. “Please don‟t kill me. I‟m leaving town, I swear.” He closed his mouth, retracted the fangs. “I‟m not going to kill you,” he said, and then laughed to show now normal teeth. “What made you think that?” He hoped Vince would think he imagined the elongated canines. As though confused, and hopefully thinking he had imagined them, two little lines appeared between Vince‟s brows. “I don‟t know, creeping up to my house at three in the morning?” Jas released his wrist and dug his hand between their bodies. “What‟s this?” He enjoyed the way Vince‟s eyes flashed wide. “That‟s my dick.” “Why is it hard like this?” “Because I‟m scared shitless!” “You always get a hard-on when you‟re scared?” Being the incorrigible tease that he was, Jas gave it a squeeze. Vince‟s free hand braced his shoulder, but he didn‟t exactly push. He took that as an invitation to continue. His next squeeze included a tug, and he slid his hand down to feel the heavy lump of a very nice pair of balls. The slow glide of his hand back up brought a rush of breath out of Vince. “Not usually, no.” “Then why now?” He was still teasing, but had dropped his voice into a gravelly whisper. Vince closed his eyes, and on Jas‟ next stroke a little groan escaped. “Please…don‟t.”
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Jas froze. Vince shifted beneath him, as though he wanted to struggle but was afraid to. “You‟ve got the wrong idea about me.” Had he misread the signals? Jesus, the last thing he wanted was to assault the poor guy in the woods. He must seem like some kind of monster. Actually, he was some kind of monster, but he was about to fuck up this whole plan. The team needed Vince. “I don‟t think so,” Jas argued, more than a little disappointed. “So you thought you‟d follow me home for a quick fuck?” Vince shoved him off and scrambled backward. “I don‟t do that.” “All right, all right.” Jas sat back on his heels and held up his hands. “I told you, we just want to talk to you.” “About what?” Now there was definite irritation in Vince‟s scowl. “Your employer.”
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Chapter Two He‟d let Night of the Living Dead into his living room. The trucker—or whatever the hell he was—hadn‟t said another word as he followed Vince into the house through the back door. He walked across the living room as if he owned the place to open the front door and motion his friends inside. All four were tall, lanky, and more than a little sinister. Maybe it was association that made the trucker seem creepy now, or maybe it was the way he‟d jumped on top of Vince in the woods and grabbed his cock. He swallowed and turned away as the four spread out in his living room and eyed him like wolves circling a fawn. “Vince, I‟m Agent Tudor and these are Agents Grant, March and Billingsly.” He turned around and saw the trucker had flipped out a badge ID. The other three flashed theirs, but the trucker held his out for Vince to examine. An irrational rush of relief dropped the tension from his shoulders, even though Vince couldn‟t shake an underlying sense of wrongness about these four. Jas Tudor. The photo was definitely of the trucker. Vince glanced at his face again and back at the ID. No fangs. He had imagined it. I did, didn’t I? “How do I know this is real?” The division was DS, CIA. Whatever that meant. It wasn‟t as if he could call up the Central Intelligence Agency and check on these guys. “I understand it‟s a bit unconventional for four agents to come to your home in the middle of the night—” “In a hearse,” Vince cut in. Jas went on as if he hadn‟t spoken. “But the clandestine nature of our assignments requires us to keep a low profile. For three months we‟ve been on the trail of the largest heroin kingpin in the country. We‟ve taken down five of the top distributors, but we can never get close to the top guy.” Vince sagged into an old chair. One of his mother‟s crocheted doilies slid off the arm. “You‟re looking at Bill.” The sexy trucker—Jas—sat in the matching chair. Too close for comfort. Vince‟s mouth went dry and he fought the urge to adjust his thickening cock more comfortably inside too-tight jeans. He almost couldn‟t believe the object of his fantasies had tackled him in the woods and tried to jerk him off—and then turned out to be some kind of secret agent who wanted to hang his boss. “What do you want with me?” He addressed the three still standing, then turned to Jas. “You saw what happened tonight. You mentioned adding to your load and Bill
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chased me off. I don‟t know anything. Besides, I‟m leaving this shithole town in three days—actually two now—right after I bury my mother.” “I‟m sorry for your loss,” Jas said in a quiet voice. Vince almost believed there was true sympathy there. “Don‟t be. She suffered too long. The end came as a relief for us both.” A long moment of silence hung where even the ticking of the clock seemed to slow. The other three got more comfortable—two on the ragged couch and the last man on the beat-up recliner that had been Brogan‟s. They didn‟t look as if they were leaving. “I can‟t help you,” Vince insisted. “The last thing I need is to get mixed up in some bullshit that‟s going to have me looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. It takes a certain kind of person to testify against drug lords, and I‟m not him.” “Nobody said anything about testifying,” the deathly thin blond said. Vince hadn‟t paid attention to who was who when Jas listed their names. The fourth man in the recliner leaned his elbows on his knees. They all stared at Vince as if they were sizing him up. “He‟s not going to trial,” the man explained. “Because our plan is to kill him.” Vince pushed out of his chair. He eyed the door, then remembered how fast Jas had overtaken him in the woods. “What agency did you say you‟re with?” He didn‟t really want the answer, he was just looking for any excuse to get these four out of his house. He remembered thinking earlier it was a relief to find out Jas was a trafficker. Now the man was even less appealing, even if he did have some odd talent at jacking a guy off. Vince had nearly come in his pants on the second tug. The phantom echo of Jas‟ fingers strumming over his erection wouldn‟t leave, but that raging hard-on sure had. The answer came from the third man, who now spoke for the first time. “Our division is called the Night Squad.” Vince barked out a laugh. “We‟re part of an elite group—” Jas started. The mean one cut him off. “We‟re vampires.” Vince whirled around. He really had seen fangs! But no, that was impossible. “If you‟re a bad guy, we kill you. No capture, no trial, no twenty years wasting taxpayers‟ money on death row.” “Jesus, Edge.” Edge shot off his chair. “What? We‟ll wipe his fucking mind and he‟ll forget all this ever happened.” He stalked across the room toward Vince. “Just tell us what we want to know, and everyone goes home happy.” Jas jumped between them, stopping the hulk, but not before he whipped out a photo. “This guy. He‟s been to the bar. When does he come?” “Edge!” The brute settled back on his heels. His expression turned to a scowl.
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Jas snatched the photo. “Don‟t be a dick.” He turned to Vince. “Have you ever seen this man before?” He was still thinking about that “wipe his mind” stuff. They couldn‟t really do that, could they? And were they truly vampires? What would stop them from killing him if he said yes? Or for that matter, if he said no, proving himself useless? Vince swallowed and looked down at the photo. “Twice. Both times after closing with a crew of bodyguards that would make the president envious.” He swallowed again, even though he knew it made him look nervous as hell. Shit, he was nervous as hell. “His name is Douglas Dominguez, they call him the Iceman. I won‟t lie to you, Vince, it‟s because he has a nasty habit of killing people who inconvenience him.” “I don‟t know when he‟s coming back. I would tell you if I did. I know Bill has a…side business, but I don‟t know a thing about how he runs it. For all I know, most of the time he goes to them.” “Vince, your boss is a top lieutenant in a billion-dollar cartel. He might look like a fat slob, but by our estimate he‟s secreted away twenty million in the last five years.” Vince sagged into his chair. Bill was a tight-ass who complained about paying minimum wage and wanted ten percent of Vince‟s tips. Asshole. “Get the files,” Jas told Edge. “Jas, this is a lost cause.” “Get. The. Files.” The hulking guy frowned before heading to the door. He came back inside a minute later with a plastic document wallet, which he handed to Jas. “These are the files on minors who overdosed in the last twelve months after using Iceman‟s product.” He spread them out across the coffee table in front of the couch where the others sat. Still more than a little creeped out, Vince didn‟t get too close, but he didn‟t have to. They were gruesome eight-by-tens, and their clarity made him glad only one dingy light had been turned on in the living room. There must have been sixty images. The dead were emaciated, many of them covered with lesions, so gray and gaunt they looked like zombies. “Jesus.” “These are just the minors,” the blond told him. “Multiply it by ten to include adults.” “We need your help, Vince,” Jas said. “He has to be stopped.”
***** Jas spoke quietly with the other three before closing the door behind them. The hearse started up with a deathly rumble, and crunching gravel faded into the night as it drove away.
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Vince didn‟t need to ask. It was obvious Jas was staying. “Sorry about Edge.” He dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “He‟s got a personal interest in this guy. One of the kids—her photo wasn‟t included—was his great-great granddaughter.” So they really wanted him to believe they were vampires. “How old are you?” he asked, half joking. “I was born in 1451.” Vince leaned his elbows on the breakfast bar to steady the dizzying rush that came with that answer. “So Tudor, as in…” Jas bowed dramatically. “I am Jasper Tudor, Duke of Bedford.” Great. Vince shoved off the stool. “Look, your highness, I‟m beat. I spent the last eight hours on my feet only to get chased out of bed by you. If you don‟t mind, I‟d like to get back to my nightmares.” Jas cut him off before he could slip into the narrow hallway. “Was I right?” Vince froze, caught behind Jas‟ braced arm. He inhaled the scent of mint and musk, looked up and found the tiny flecks of green that were responsible for the turquoise hue of his blue eyes. “What?” “You said I had the wrong idea about you. I said „I don‟t think so‟. So was I right, or not?” The night had turned surreal long ago, and Vince, at the point of feeling unsteady, did something he never did. “Fine. Yes, you were right. I‟m gay. Happy?” “Extremely.” Jas moved in closer, trapping Vince against the wall. “For what it‟s worth, you did a good job of hiding it. But I can sense what others can‟t. Your heart races and you get a hard-on when you look at me. I can see it—yours especially—like a glowing rod of uranium.” “Maybe—” “No maybe about it. Definitely.” This was getting him nowhere. “All right, yes. I might like the way you look. But that doesn‟t mean I‟m going to do anything about it.” “Come on, Vince. Don‟t fight me so hard.” He touched the edge of Vince‟s chin. Those long, tapered fingers traced out a thrilling caress. “These last two years must have been lonely for you. We can keep each other company.” Vince stiffened. “Not a good idea.” Jas slid even closer. His hard torso pressed him solidly against the wall and it was all Vince could do to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head. Jas touched his shoulders, sliding his hands down Vince‟s arms. He felt the traverse of those smooth hands over his biceps, down his forearms, across the backs of his hands. Then Jas cupped the rigid length in Vince‟s jeans, and his eyes did roll back in his head. “You‟re hard again.”
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I’ve been hard. “I‟ll be honest. I want you, Vince. I want to taste you.” The claim came in little more than a whisper, hot breath on Vince‟s neck. Oh Jesus. “You have a very rare blood type. I can smell it on you. You‟re special, like caviar.” “No.” I’m nobody. Nothing. “Oh yes. As lonely as it‟s been for you, it‟s been twice that for me. A hundred times more so. I‟ve been alive over five hundred years. And suddenly here you are, sweet and beautiful, sad and misunderstood Vince with your rare blood and your lonely heart. How can I resist?” Jas‟ lips skimmed along Vince‟s jaw as he spoke, driving him out of his mind. “You…you can‟t.” “Damn right I can‟t.” His hand, still cupping Vince‟s cock, squeezed and tugged in a magical rhythm. “I could take you, you know, and you couldn‟t stop me. Throw you down on your bed, tear your clothes off, and fuck you into oblivion. I‟m stronger, faster, and I could wipe your mind afterward.” Suddenly that didn‟t sound so bad, except the mind-wiping part. Something told Vince he‟d want to remember it. “But I want you willing.” Vince‟s heart was racing so fast his ribs hurt. Ah, fuck it. He turned his head and met Jas‟ mouth, accepting the kiss the other man had been waiting to give. Jas surged against him, crushing him back against the wall. He took Vince‟s wrists and pinned them above his head. As tall as Vince was, Jas was taller, stronger and more muscular, and it felt divine. Knee between Vince‟s thighs, Jas deepened his kiss, probing ferociously with his tongue in a promise, or warning, of what was to come. This is what it’s going to be like, Vince thought, readying himself for the fuck of a lifetime. It was long overdue. “Good choice,” Jas said. Still holding Vince‟s wrist, he pulled him down the hall.
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Chapter Three A zing of excitement came edged with a thrill of fear. Jas pulled him into his bedroom, somehow knowing Vince lived in the spare room that held his mother‟s sewing machine and Sunday hat collection. He flipped on the switch, and for the first time Vince was glad the single lamp was so dim. He dragged Vince‟s flannel shirt off his shoulders and slid his hands around his ribs, warm palms ravaging in synch with his probing tongue. Jas was taller, determined, and hadn‟t been lying when he said he was stronger. He picked Vince up beneath the arms and threw him back on the wobbly bed. “I‟m gonna fuck you into next week.” He knelt on the bed and prowled forward like a cougar. Feral power glittered in those crystalline eyes. They flashed with ice-blue light, making Vince‟s heart double kick. Jas tilted his head and demanded Vince‟s mouth. Roaming, determined fingers wove their way beneath the waistband of his jeans. “Wait.” Vince grabbed Jas‟ hand, stopping him. “When I said I don‟t do this…I wasn‟t lying.” Jas sat back on his knees. “You‟ve never fucked before?” His brows rose in disbelief. “Just because I‟m gay doesn‟t mean I‟m sexually active.” He frowned when it looked as if Jas was going to laugh. “Are all straight people sexually active?” Jas lifted both hands in surrender. “Fair enough. Sorry, I just assumed.” “I went to some clubs when I lived in San Francisco. I‟ve had a few blowjobs…both on the giving and receiving end. But I‟ve never been to bed with anyone. With a man, that is. It‟s not something I just do.” He sat up. His explanation was going south. Jas settled back farther, as though expecting rejection. “I get it.” “No, you don‟t. I‟m not saying I don‟t want you. I‟m just saying…” “You‟re a virgin.” The half smile Jas wore said it pleased him. He moved forward again and nipped at Vince‟s lips. “And you‟re just a little bit scared.” He let Jas kiss him again before admitting, “Just a little bit.” “Don‟t worry, I‟ll be gentle.” He worked at the button on Vince‟s jeans, and this time Vince let him. “Let‟s start with something you know.” Vince settled back on the bed, still halfway unable to fathom he was actually finally going to let another man have him. And three quarters unable to believe it was the guy he‟d been dreaming about for months.
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His button-fly popped open. Cool air rushed in, but did nothing to soothe the raging heat of his arousal. Jas lifted the elastic waist of his boxers, freeing his cock. He grasped the hips of Vince‟s jeans, and the next instant they were gone. “Nice.” A warm hand grasped his shaft, sending the room spinning. “Obviously you don‟t drink the beer you serve.” Jas‟ hot tongue laved his abdomen and speared Vince‟s bellybutton. The next instant that warm, wet mouth closed over the straining cap of his shaft, sucking him in. Vince groaned and grasped the bed sheets to keep from tumbling off. It felt like eternity since he‟d known the magnificence of a soft mouth sucking him, and even then—those two clumsy experiences—hadn‟t been anywhere near this incredible. Jas held the base of his shaft with a hand, guiding Vince‟s aching cock skyward. He worked him beautifully, firmly using all of his mouth—lips, tongue, cheeks, with an exquisite suction before the unbelievably tight pressure of another descent. Silky hair teased his belly and hips as Jas bobbed up and down, gaining speed but still sucking too painfully slowly. It was torture—beautiful, delicious torture. Fire licked at his flesh. He worried he should warn Jas he was going to shoot in record time. He grasped the man‟s shoulder. “Oh God…Jas!” It wasn‟t fast enough, but Jas seemed eager to drink him down. Vince‟s entire body tightened as heat raced through his cock and the release of two years‟ tension flooded Jas‟ mouth. “Oh God, Jesus,” he managed before words became nothing but gasps. The rush was almost painful, and seemed to go on forever. His entire body throbbed, a giant pulse of surging pleasure. He floated back to earth like a feather swishing back and forth on a cushion of air. He‟d never experienced anything so mind-shattering. He guessed a man learned a thing or two in five hundred years. Jas eased his spent cock out and kissed his stomach. “Um…sorry,” was all Vince could think of to say. Jas chuckled. “I was right about you. You‟re delicious.” Now Vince laughed. “That was so amazing. I feel like I should send a thank-you note.” Jas crawled forward, sliding his body against Vince‟s until they fit together like two puzzle pieces. “Glad you liked it. There‟s more where that came from.” They eased into gentle silence, nothing but their breathing and the intimate sound of skin moving across skin as Jas touched secret places with bold, roving fingers. Vince settled into a euphoric calm, but his heart leapt with excitement as he finally mustered the words. “I think I‟m ready now.” Jas rose and shed the clingy gray shirt he wore, revealing a broad chest cut with muscle. He looked into Vince‟s eyes as he thumbed open his pants and peeled them over his hips.
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Vince held his gaze, enjoying the slow striptease. Jas toed off his boots and kicked off the tangle of clothes, then stood at the foot of the bed. Vince let his eyes wander, taking in the incredible sight before him until he found the beautiful cock standing tall and ready. The thick shaft was smooth perfection with a shiny bulb of pale rose. Jas gathered his hair into a mass at the back of his head and twisted it out of the way, letting Vince take his time. God almighty, he was a gorgeous statue of masculine beauty. “Like what you see?” “More than like.” Vince sat up and scooted to the end of the bed. “Want to taste.” He reached to touch, sucking in a breath when Jas‟ cock twitched under his fingertips as though ultrasensitive. He glanced up at Jas to catch the predatory gleam in his eyes again flashing with blue fire. He‟d been almost detached when Jas sucked him off, concentrating on nothing but the delight his cock was experiencing, but leaning in close to Jas‟ groin, breathing in his musky scent and staring at this beautiful cock inches from his mouth, brought his senses alive a thousand times more vibrantly than any fantasy he‟d conjured. Vince flicked out with his tongue, running it the length of the hot shaft, which twitched again. He seized it with his fist and pulled it into his mouth, bringing all those fantasies to life. Jas bit out a groan and cupped the back of Vince‟s head. He tried to return the act as wonderfully as it had been bestowed upon him, but having given a single blowjob in his life, he knew his skill sadly lacked. But as pathetic as he knew he was, at this moment there was no reluctance, no second-guessing. The instant Jas‟ thick length filled his mouth he knew he‟d been waiting his whole life for this kind of affirmation. This is right for me. Jas pushed him back. “Later.” He urged Vince back on the bed and crawled over him on all fours. Vince lay back and slid his hands over the muscled arms Jas braced on either side. He traced over the skull tattoo on Jas‟ right biceps. A vampire skull. “I have to tell you about me.” He flicked out to lick the seam of Vince‟s lips. “I want to fuck you, but I need to bite you.” He eased away, drew his lips back to show emerged fangs. A tidal wave of fear crashed over Vince, but he met and held Jas‟ eyes steadily. “I understand you‟re inexperienced and I‟ll do my best to be gentle with you. When I enter you, I may very well take you right up to your physical limit.” “Yes,” Vince breathed out, his ass already yearning to be filled. “But when I bite you, it‟s going to hurt.” He closed his eyes on a slow blink, wanting to ask, how much will it hurt, will it leave a scar, how much will you drink? Instead he remained silent, afraid to voice the questions. “I need to know you‟re all right with it.” Vince nodded.
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“Say it.” “I‟m all right with it.” Jas let out a relieved breath, though he still seemed to hover on the verge of changing his mind. “When I pierce your flesh, you‟ll feel the burn of my fangs. I won‟t lie to you, it will be excruciating. But it will pass almost instantly. Your blood will gush into my mouth. I‟ll drink one gulp, and then I‟ll heal your wounds with my tongue. It‟ll be over that fast.” Vince nodded again. “Okay.” He touched Jas‟ cheek to assure him he understood. “I‟ll do it when I come. I don‟t always need to bite you when we have sex, but I haven‟t fed in days.” Warm excitement spread through Vince. Jas talked like there would be more nights together ahead of them. “It‟s all right. Don‟t talk anymore. Just do it.” Jas smiled and leaned in to kiss him. “Do you have any lube?” Vince‟s excitement turned to a flash of dread. He hadn‟t tackled all his fears, come all this way, just to hit a wall now. “Olive oil?” “In the kitchen.” Vince only had time to rise and drag the covers down before Jas was back in a blur, literally. He set a bowl of the earthy-scented oil on the bedside table. It still sloshed from its violent, super-speed journey. Vince eased back on the bed and Jas stretched out next to him. “I mean it when I say I‟m not a beast. This is for you, tonight, Vince. I wouldn‟t feed if I didn‟t have to.” “It doesn‟t matter,” Vince said, stopping him. It really didn‟t. He hadn‟t forgotten Jas and his team expected him to help bring down a dangerous criminal. Vince had already resigned himself to not living out his dreams in San Francisco. His luck just didn‟t hold out like that. It never had, and he was a fool to think it ever would. “Yes, it does.” Jas leaned over and dipped his fingers in the bowl. He stared into Vince‟s eyes as he reached around and strummed them lightly through his crease, anointing him in the oil. A thrill of excitement ricocheted through Vince‟s body like the ball in a pinball machine as Jas touched him so intimately. He settled on his back as Jas propped on his side next to him and let his legs fall open. Jas dipped his fingers again and reached between Vince‟s legs. He traced pure magic over the sensitive ring of nerves, teasing in a circle when he found Vince tight and nervous. One digit found the center and pressed, then just as quickly he‟d dipped in the bowl again and was smearing the oil everywhere. Over his cheeks, up the length of his crack, and down over his taint to squeeze and massage tight balls that already wanted to erupt again.
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“Relax for me.” This time when Jas‟ finger pressed on his anus, Vince let out a breath. He felt a slight burn as he was penetrated to the first knuckle. “It‟ll be easier if you‟re stretched.” “Would you think I‟m insane if I told you I didn‟t want it to be easier?” “Courageous, aren‟t you? I admire that, but I don‟t want you damaged, either.” Vince opened his eyes to receive Jas‟ smile. “Your scent gets spicier when you‟re hot.” Another finger joined the first and Vince gasped. “Easy, now. How‟s this?” Those two fingers pressed on the soft flesh of his channel as Jas pressed his palm against Vince‟s balls. He rubbed the inside of Vince‟s body at a special spot that ignited a hot blast inside him. “Nice,” Vince breathed out in a rush. “Really nice.” He nearly mewled with regret when Jas suddenly withdrew. He pushed onto all fours over Vince and reached over to the bowl again. This time he smeared the olive oil onto his shaft. Vince looked down between his spread legs, found own cock raging hard again and weeping a tear of pre-cum. Jas‟ fist slid up and down his oiled cock, smearing it over his swollen tip. He grasped the shining organ in his hand and lunged forward. At first it felt soft, a fleshy spear Jas rubbed through Vince‟s crease in search of his dark entry. I can do this. I’ve been waiting to do this. But as soon as he had the thought, the pressure increased and that soft, warm spear became a column of stone forcing his tight hole impossibly wide. A flash of light burst in his eyes as he was breached. Vince winced against the mass invading him, felt a spike of shocking pain. An instant later the pain vanished and Vince was overtaken by a surge of erotic pleasure so intense he groaned aloud. “Okay?” “Oh God, yes. Fuck me.” He pulled at Jas‟ shoulders, shifted his hands to pull at his hips. The pleasure increased with each inch deeper the other man travelled into him. Jas‟ cock felt as if it grew wider the closer he got to the base, the more of it Vince took inside. He was claimed, possessed, overcome, and he succumbed to it joyously. “Congratulations, lover. You‟re not a virgin anymore.” “It was worth the wait.” He gasped over the words. “Are you…” “All the way? Not even close. Fuck, you‟re so tight.” “Do it, Jas. I need you as much as you need me.” He‟d been pushing in slowly and steadily, but at Vince‟s command he bucked, violently claiming another inch. Jas‟ body heated and Vince breathed in the masculine power of him. The next thrust came after a shallow withdrawal, and Vince reveled in the idea he had completely surrendered himself.
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Jas took on a rhythm of slow but steady thrusting until Vince felt the other man‟s pelvis meet his ass. The engorged plum rubbed deeper inside him than Vince had thought possible. “Oh…Vince…gonna be soon.” Jas bent over him, breathing the words against his neck. He groaned, mouth open, and Vince felt the smooth canines caress his throat an instant before their sharp tips came to rest against his jugular. Jas gripped his ass, fingers digging deep into the flesh, and suddenly Vince felt warmth blooming deep in his bowels. Jas was thrusting on him so hard the pleasure bordered on pain, or pain bordered on pleasure, Vince wasn‟t sure which. Surges of heat marked Jas‟ cum spurting deep inside him. Stunning pain pierced his neck. He felt as if two knives had been plunged into him. A rush of dizziness sent the room spinning and his vision turned to a blurry haze. He felt Jas‟ mouth clamp on, while almost in the background his pounding hips went on fucking his ass. The intensity of the experience took Vince to a new plateau. It wasn‟t just his body claimed by the pleasure, but his mind as well. He was suddenly aware of a new sense of purpose, want, and need. An explosion of pleasure shook him like a megaton blast. His own cock felt like it was a thousand degrees, the climax a thousand times more intense than simple ejaculation, so much that the stickiness of his own cum he felt spurting across his belly came as no surprise. He was aware of Jas‟ tongue slathering over his neck. As promised, the pain was gone, leaving only its memory, and the echo of doubt it had been as bad as he‟d thought. He felt renewed, refreshed and reborn. “You okay?” Jas‟ words sounded far away. Vince shifted, suddenly aware of the mass deep in his ass. “You‟re still inside me,” he heard himself say, and then he drifted into nothingness.
***** Vince awoke to the sound of voices in his kitchen. The Night Squad was back, conveniently invited into his house by Jas. He rose, aching everywhere, and stepped into the shower to languish under the hot spray. He wasn‟t quite ready to face four undead agents again. Last night seemed almost unreal. Had he really let a man he‟d only just met fuck him unconscious? Not just a man…a vampire. As an afterthought he peered into the shaving mirror hanging from the showerhead. He couldn‟t see a mark on his neck. Did it even happen? He wasn‟t sure about the bite, but the soreness he felt everywhere included his ass. And Vince wasn‟t likely to forget what they‟d done. Jas was well endowed, and very strong. He‟d demanded Vince accept him, and had sought his release with ferocious purpose. Just thinking about it made him eager for another night with the
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handsome agent, and another example of the man‟s talents. He grinned at his own reflection in the shaving mirror, and then felt like a geek for it. Vince toweled off and brushed his teeth, wondering at the silence in the main part of the house. He dressed quickly and followed the scent of freshly brewed coffee into the kitchen. “Good morning,” the blond agent said as he passed. The three men he‟d met last night sat around his living room drinking coffee, the rough one named Edge flipping through his mother‟s knitting magazine. Jas handed him a steaming cup and rerouted him to the main room. Vince looked at him questioningly, but Jas didn‟t betray a hint. “How‟d you sleep?” the blond asked. “What‟s going on?” Vince asked in response. “We‟re checking in, wondering if Jas had a chance to explain the situation to you in more detail. Convince you to help us out.” Vince snorted. So that‟s what last night had been about. He should have figured as much. Jas only wanted to persuade Vince into going along, and get his rocks off in the process. “I‟ll be honest with you, I went straight to bed last night. I was beat.” He slid his gaze over each of them to gauge their reaction, but nobody so much as cracked a smile. “I still don‟t understand what I can do to help.” “All we need you to do is call us when the Iceman shows.” Yeah, sure. Things were never as simple as all you have to do… You said yes to the first part, the next thing you knew, you were signing away your life. In this case, literally. This plan was sounding even more foolhardy than it had last night. “Look.” He frowned. “Sorry, I didn‟t catch who was who last night.” “I‟m Agent March. You can call me Blade.” “A vampire named Blade.” Now he did smile. “I was Blade long before the movie. And I‟m a better Blade.” The one with light-brown hair raised his hand. “Ruben.” The rough guy looked over the knitting magazine. “Edge.” “Blade and Edge. Sure.” “Jas will stay here until we get a sighting, and Agent Grant—Ruben—will also remain in town. He‟s going to be dating Bill‟s cocktail waitress—what‟s her name?” “Trudy,” Ruben and Vince said at the same time. “Trudy,” Blade confirmed. “But he can‟t hang out at the bar every night. It would look too suspicious.” “And she‟s not in on the plan,” Edge said. “We don‟t exactly see her as the trustworthy type.” “Good call,” Vince muttered. 22
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“I can‟t sit in a car outside the place, either,” Ruben put in. “I‟d get noticed in the parking lot and because Rowdy‟s sits alone on the highway, there isn‟t any place nearby to park. Besides, it could be weeks before he comes back, and I can‟t live in a car.” “What about outside? You aren‟t affected by the cold, right?” Vince asked almost absently. The instant the words left his mouth, he worried he might have offended them. “You watch too many movies,” Blade told him with a forgiving grin. “We‟re flesh and blood, just like you.” Memories of the night before darted and flitted in his mind. Yes, they certainly were flesh and blood. Gorgeous, muscular flesh and hot, passionate blood. Vince took a gulp of too-hot coffee and cleared his throat. He still worried about the “mind wiping” stuff they‟d talked about last night, and hoped that didn‟t include mind reading stuff as well. “Yeah, and Ruben‟s more your Four Seasons type than your campground roughing-it type.” Edge chuckled wickedly. “Hey, you been alive as long as I have, you get used to the finer things.” “A call from you will put them at the bar inside five minutes,” Blade assured him. “That‟s really all I have to do? Call you?” He nodded. “Call us, and leave. Whenever he comes in, you tell Bill you‟re cutting out early for a booty call, whatever, and clock out. We want you out of the building instantly. Hell, quit if you want. Don‟t even tell him, just leave. You never have to go back there.” “Place‟ll probably be shut down anyway,” Edge said without looking up from Knitter’s World. Vince shook his head. “Look, Agents, I still have ties here, and I‟d like to be able to walk down the street without a bunch of drug dealers gunning for me.” Blade, their apparent leader, gave him a grave look. “Don‟t worry. No one will ever know you had anything to do with it.” “And no one is getting out of there alive,” Edge added in a confident tone. Vince shivered. That didn‟t sound like a macho claim. He had no doubt the agents meant business. Deadly business. He glanced at Jas. Even if he had been ordered to seduce him, last night had been the best of Vince‟s life. He looked into his coffee mug, considering his options. This plan had the potential to fuck up his life royally. Then again, it wasn‟t much of a life. Even when he‟d lived in San Francisco, he‟d been too afraid to get out and live like he wanted to. One excuse after another had kept him from pursuing his dreams. He‟d sabotaged himself long before this. Last night Jas had given him what he‟d always wanted, and did it with magic. If he died tomorrow, at least he‟d fulfilled his desires. “Fine. Whatever. I‟ll do it.” 23
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The men around him relaxed collectively. “Good deal. There might even be a reward in it for you.” Vince heard the unspoken part of that sentence. If you live.
***** Jas closed the door behind them while Vince busied himself in the kitchen. He sensed the bartender was still reluctant, and Jas shared it. Vince was in good enough physical shape to take on his slovenly boss if need be, and he had a smart enough mouth to talk his way out of a sticky situation—if he kept his cool. But the guy had it hard enough already, and Jas didn‟t want to see him suffer. Jas could even admit he honestly liked him. Vince was as out of place in Corn-Fed Corner as a giraffe in a herd of hippos. He belonged in a trendy San Francisco bar pouring fancy drinks to a roomful of equally beautiful gay men who picked up on each other while secretly watching him with longing. With his dimples, pale-green eyes and perfectly sculpted body, he wouldn‟t stay single long. Hell, he would wager a month‟s pay there were even some here who secretly watched their sexy bartender with admiration as he poured their unimpressive beer into chipped mugs. Jas returned to the kitchen to find Vince slapping together a ham and cheese sandwich. His movements were jerky and he didn‟t look at Jas, but his skin held the heat of a secret blush. The little ex-virgin was bashful about what they‟d done last night. “What?” he finally asked after feeling Jas staring at him. “I just want you to know, I‟m not always the top.” He stopped, and allowed the smile tugging free. “Good to know.” Jas stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. “And I will make sure nothing happens to you. We may be an…unconventional division, but we put the lives of innocent civilians first. Actually, second. We put the lives of the people who help us above all else.” Vince nodded and screwed the top back on the mayonnaise. “Also good to know.” Jas shifted in closer, drawn by the man‟s clean, pure scent. He felt content after the gush he‟d drunk the night before, but the memory of Vince‟s sweet blood made him thirsty again. “How are you feeling?” “Fine,” Vince insisted. “Oh, you mean…um, I‟m okay. Really.” His cheeks tinged with pink and Jas noted another jump in body temperature. “Glad to hear it.” He traced a finger over the man‟s cheek. His cock stood at ready, longing to plunge into Vince‟s sweet body again. “You going in soon?” “What?” He swallowed. “To work, you mean. Yes.”
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Jas‟ fingertip traced down his jaw and onto his throat. He watched Vince‟s pulse kick up its speed. “Anything I can do for you before you leave?” “I‟m…I‟m good.” Vince‟s response came on a whisper. Good. Jas‟ touch was affecting him, and helping him over whatever foolish bashfulness, or God forbid regret, he was feeling. “Are you sure?” He dug his fingers into the waist of Vince‟s jeans. Vince caught his hand. “You don‟t have to do that. I‟ve already told you I‟d help.” “Is that what you think? I seduced you to get you to help?” “Didn‟t you?” Damn if the bartender didn‟t look hurt. “Not even close, Vince.” He yanked, pulling open his jeans. Vince leaned back against the counter and braced his hands on the edge. Jas leaned in and brushed a kiss over the corner of his mouth. “I thought we already established that I want you.” Another kiss to the other side. “And you want me.” “Did we establish that?” Vince leaned forward and received his mouth. Jas kept his kiss gentle, having to hold back from devouring the man in frustration. He delved with his tongue, coaxing Vince to return the same. Finally Vince‟s kiss relaxed and deepened. Jas dropped to his knees. “Sorry. I must not have been clear.” He tore open the rest of the buttons and dragged the jeans over Vince‟s hips. If the heart was reluctant, the cock didn‟t reveal it. Vince was hard, throbbing, and already bejeweled with a diamond of pre-cum. Jas seized him in his fist and swallowed him whole, dragging a groan out of Vince. He eased his mouth slowly back up to the taut crown and ran his tongue around the rim before swallowing him deep again. This time Vince thrust his hips. That enormous bulb nudged the back of his throat. What he lacked in girth, Vince more than made up for in length. Jas didn‟t often take the bottom, but he could hardly wait to feel Vince‟s gorgeous cock sliding in and out of him. This time as he drew Vince‟s shaft out of his mouth he cupped and squeezed his balls, bringing another groan out of the man. Jas allowed himself a secret smile. Vince had shot off in about ten seconds last night, but after emptying his balls twice, he would finally have the stamina to enjoy filling Jas‟ mouth as it was supposed to be enjoyed. Jas intentionally prolonged it by letting Vince pop out. He dragged his tongue languidly down the underside of his column to the root, and back up again. “You‟re so sweet,” he said before circling the ridge with the tip of his tongue. “I can‟t get enough of you.” Vince let out a groan. “You‟re good with that tongue of yours.” “I have many talents to share with you.” He gripped Vince‟s hips and devoured his shaft, deep-throating him with his tongue pressed flat against his cock. This vampire had no gag reflex, and he wanted his lover to know it.
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Jas worked him faster, sucking harder and deeper until his nose touched the trimmed bush at the root with each thrust of Vince‟s hips. This was truly a beautiful cock, with a shaft hot with desire and a crown so swollen it was shiny and taut. “Oh jeez. Oh Jesus.” Vince dug into Jas‟ hair. “God, oh yes, fuck, Jas.” A hot stream of salty cum hit the back of his throat. Jas drank him down, marveling at the force of each spurt. That was what celibacy could do for you, he guessed. Vince was unique, sort of like cantaloupe juice and cream, and Jas could get very used to this cocktail. The jets petered off as Vince made pained sounds. Finally drained, Jas released his spent cock gently into cupped hands like a wounded baby bird. “My God.” “I love the taste of you.” Jas stood and kissed him. He detected the salt of sweat on Vince‟s upper lip. It carried the same undertone of sweetness as his cum, with a slightly stronger hint of the delectable blood coursing through his veins. Jas gave him a sly smile. “I may have to keep you.”
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Chapter Four Vince didn‟t know what would be worse—if this “Iceman” drug lord did come in, or if he didn‟t. His shift seemed to drag on endlessly, and Vince spent half the time in a state of distraction, the other half in a state of delight. He wasn‟t sure what to make of the man—vampire—in his house. He seemed to genuinely enjoy sucking cock, and had even insinuated he‟d let Vince fuck him. That would prove his honesty. A man didn‟t let another fuck him if he didn‟t truly want it. Thankfully the hearse wasn‟t parked in his driveway when he returned home. Inside, a wonderful aroma of savory beef stew wafted from the kitchen. Jas stood over the stove, stirring the contents of a large pot. “Hungry?” he asked by way of greeting. “Starved.” Vince tossed his coat over an arm chair. He peered into the pot, but it was Jas‟ wonderful essence that teased his senses. “Do vampires eat food?” Jas grinned. “Of course. We need sustenance just like you. We drink wine, too. And sunlight doesn‟t make me burst into flames. For us it‟s like suffering from extreme hypersensitivity. Really bad sunburn, temporary blindness, that sort of thing.” Vince pulled two bowls out of the cabinet and Jas ladled stew into them. He removed a tray of freshly baked biscuits from the oven. They sat together at the tiny eatin kitchen table. “My mom‟s funeral is Saturday, and the realtor is having an open house on Sunday,” Vince volunteered as gently as he could. “So I should make myself scarce.” Invisible was what Vince had been thinking. “If you don‟t mind. Great stew, by the way. What is that, rosemary?” Jas gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Your mother has a hedge of it growing out back. And these tomatoes are wild descendants from her garden.” Vince focused on the contents of his bowl. His mother had loved gardening, and he was ashamed to admit in the two years he‟d lived here, he‟d let her yard go to hell. “But thanks, I‟m glad you like it,” Jas went on. “I used to have a staff of servants to do everything for me. Five hundred years isn‟t exactly a crash course in learning to take care of myself, but it was hard unlearning being pampered. Right away I learned how to cook, and do my own laundry. The alternative was unacceptable.” Vince laughed. “What was it like living in the time of King…Henry?” “Henry the sixth,” Jas told him. “Did you have lovers back then?” Vince swallowed as heat crawled up his neck.
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“Ah, I could tell you things about Windsor Castle that would have you blushing harder than that. The palace was a literal playground of carnal delights. Imagine the most luxurious sex club you can, and multiply it by ten. Rooms upon rooms dedicated to satisfying your most uninhibited desires. There were suites where courtesans were rotated in and out. The nobility merely had to enter the room and take what they wanted. There were unlimited nubile females and endless strong, handsome young men. There wasn‟t such a stigma on gay sex and group sex like there is today. It was almost believed that if you didn‟t indulge in what your position afforded you, you were dull.” “Sounds hedonistic. But you still didn‟t answer my question.” Jas slowly formed a half smile. “I did. Johan and Annabelle. They were my favorites, and often the three of us played together.” “Courtesans?” Vince asked, now truly intrigued. He understood that was the old fashioned and “polite” way of referring to prostitutes. Jas nodded. “I loved them both equally. And I think our threesomes were the reason they ended up married. They believed I died in the Revolutionary War, so I arranged for them to inherit a fortune from me.” He made little finger quotes as he said “inherit”. “I‟m sorry,” Vince said. It was sad to imagine two people who‟d cared for him had thought him killed. Even sadder, Jas had eventually witnessed their deaths, and the deaths of everyone he‟d ever known. “That was generous of you.” “In truth I went to Arabia on a secret mission for the king, and that‟s where I was turned. He was my half brother, you know.” “The king? Cool.” “If you were to ask, I would honestly say I like the way things are today, better. There isn‟t much satisfaction in snapping your fingers to make someone drop and suck your cock just because you‟re nobility. There may be a stigma on sex today, but that almost makes it more fun. I like the pursuit and the challenge. The defiance of that stigma, the excitement of going to extremes. And I like getting to know you, Vince. Not just bending you over and thrusting to release without knowing the person you are.” Jas grinned rakishly. “I like you making me work for you. It makes your lovely ass a sweeter reward.” “I thought you said you weren‟t always the top.” Jas stood and eased around the corner of the table. “Enough about me. You‟re tired, I‟m horny, and we don‟t know how long we have together.” He took Vince‟s hand and urged him up. “Let‟s make the most of this time we have.” “About that.” Vince allowed himself to be led down the hallway. “After you bust this guy, you‟ll climb into your hearse and drive away?” “That depends on how things go down,” Jas answered, ever vague. He flipped the light on in Vince‟s bedroom. The bed had been made and his discarded laundry picked up. “I have some time off coming, but yes, eventually I‟ll be assigned to another case.” 28
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It sounded like an offer to spend some personal time together, and it was more than he‟d expected. “I can live with that—” The room twisted in a blur and Vince landed facedown on the bed. Jas‟ weight came down heavy on his back. “I said I‟m not always on top, but it is very, very rare I let anyone inside me.” A hot, wet tongue burned a magical path up the sensitive skin behind Vince‟s ear. “I hope you understand how special that makes you.” “That‟s the one thing I don‟t understand,” Vince said. Jas‟ arms felt like steel bands as he effortlessly lifted Vince and flipped him over. His already stirring erection jumped to life as Jas came down on top of him again, this time face-to-face. “But if you would let me,” Vince continued, now breathlessly, “it would be another first experience for me, and I do understand how special that is.” As Vince said this, Jas nuzzled his neck, licked another sizzling path, and kissed his jaw. Vince seized a handful of his long hair, pulled Jas back, and demanded his mouth. His kiss was aggressive, but as he swept his tongue into Jas‟ mouth, he conveyed his intention to be slow and gentle. “I did some shopping today.” Jas grinned. “Actually, some shoplifting. I couldn‟t be seen so I used my super-speed. Next time you‟re in McPherson‟s Pharmacy, drop a fiver in the tip jar.” He grabbed a small bottle of lubricant from the headboard. Vince matched his smile. “Nothing like having the right tools for the job.” Jas‟ expression sobered. He reached up to set the bottle down again, and rose to his knees to yank off his shirt. “How do you want me?” “Naked, to start.” He responded with a fleeting smile before pushing off the end of the bed. Jas thumbed the top button of his jeans and pulled open the row of buttons. Again, he was commando underneath. The ridges of his abs bulged and his arms flexed in beautiful symmetry as he bent to push them down his legs. “Stay there,” Vince decided. He scooted down to the end of the bed and sat on its edge. He let Jas pull his t-shirt off and toss it in the pile of his own discarded clothes. As soon as he was free of it, Vince grasped the beautiful cock throbbing in his face. He pulled the skyward-pointing spear to his mouth and licked the rounded crown. Jas groaned and braced both hands on Vince‟s shoulders when he swallowed half the length. “Fuck, you‟ve got a sweet mouth.” And he‟d been thinking he wasn‟t any good. Vince used one hand to guide the shaft, and grasped Jas‟ balls with the other. Jas affirmed it worked for him by groaning again and thrusting his hips. Vince opened his jaw and took the mass deep into his throat. Jas cupped him at the back of his head, holding him on his cock. “Oh Jesus.”
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Having Jas in his mouth was a glorious, amazingly intimate experience, but he wanted this to last. Vince eased him out until his lips pulled at his cockhead, and flicked his tongue over the slit. “You‟re a wicked tease.” Vince held the throbbing shaft in his fist. “I promise I won‟t deny you anything.” He rose and shucked his own jeans before grabbing the bottle of lube from the headboard. He then walked around behind Jas. The vampire watched him over his shoulder, trembling, but didn‟t move. “I want you standing up. I want to look at you.” Jas only nodded. “Bend over.” He braced his fists on the bed, smooth white ass exposed and vulnerable. “Spread your legs.” Vince dropped the small bottle on the bed. “More.” When he did, Vince stroked his back. “You have such an amazing body. It‟ll be an honor to possess you.” “It‟s been a long time since I‟ve let anyone fuck me.” The vampire made a noisy swallow. “I want it to be you.” Vince pressed forward, laying his aching cock lengthwise into the crease of Jas‟ ass. “Whatever happens after your case is over, I‟ll never forget this. You‟ll always be my first.” Jas let out a long breath and his body relaxed another notch, as though the idea comforted him. Vince picked up the bottle of lube. Jas winced at the sound of the top snapping open. Vince squirted a cool stream into his palm. It wasn‟t jellylike but thin, like baby oil. He pressed his palm between Jas‟ cheeks and felt him shiver. Slowly, achingly slowly, he smeared it up and down his crease. Each stroke included a teasing fondle of the vampire‟s tight hole. Vince could hardly wait to feel the stronger man clamp down on his cock, but vowed to take his time. He gently breached the tight band with one fingertip. Jas gushed out a breath and dropped his head. “Okay?” “Yeah. Okay.” “Good, because here comes more.” He pushed the finger up to the second knuckle, sliding into the warm channel. Vince pumped gently, rubbing the silken flesh. When he felt Jas relax, he eased out to the tip and then pushed two fingers inside. “You feel like heaven,” Vince told him. “Are you ready?” Jas nodded. “Are you sure?” He removed his fingers and squirted more lubricant into his hand. “I am. You have a beautiful cock, Vince, and I want to feel it inside me.”
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Vince stroked himself, smearing the lube from root to tip. The combination of his own hand and Jas‟ words turned him to steel. Vince touched the crown to Jas‟ ass. He was so hot and hard he feared he might burst. He dragged his swollen tip up and down, seeking the tiny hole and smearing the lube liberally over Jas. Jas arched his back, muscles flexing, and pushed out to meet him. He held his breath and nudged. Jas‟ tight band resisted him for the briefest instant before he sank inside. Jas sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck!” It wasn‟t like Vince had expected, but in fact a thousand times better. Jas‟ body was warm silk, the tight band of his sphincter a solid ring that squeezed him to bliss. He took Jas by the hips and carefully pushed deeper. The lube was so slippery Jas had lost the natural defenses of his skin‟s friction. Vince realized a thrill of power over the other man, even though he‟d never abuse it. “God. Yes.” Jas bent his knees and angled himself to better receive. His fists balled the quilt and he pushed backward, impaling himself. “More, Vince. Take me. Fuck me!” Vince bucked his hips and slammed deep into Jas. Now the sound the vampire groaned was of satisfaction. The sweet flesh swallowing him bathed Vince in liquid heat. Jas‟ sphincter felt like a cock ring as it squeezed at his shaft, and thank God because Vince was as thrilled by the idea of being inside Jas as he was by the forbidden flesh caressing his cock so magically that he would have already shot off otherwise. He took on a bucking rhythm until he‟d driven himself to the balls and merely pushed and relaxed, pushed and relaxed. “I‟m gonna come,” Vince uttered between pants. “Do it in me. I want your cum in me.” Jas growled the order. “Brand me with it.” The first shot of cum felt like a cannon blast. Vince hammered with his hips, slicking Jas‟ insides with his cum until he was dragging his shaft nearly all the way out before ramming back to the hilt again. Jas groaned out his pleasure with every deep thrust, wild and hot. His body glowed with a shimmer of sweat, a beautiful sight as he strained every muscle and tendon. “God yes. Ah, Fuck!” Vince surged forward and seized Jas‟ cock in his slippery hand. He continued thrusting as he stroked up to the vampire‟s swollen cockhead and back to the root. In seconds his fist was slicked with the first jet of cum. Vince gave him several solid tugs. When the last spurt petered, he immediately gentled his grip and eased Jas down. “Holy hell.” Vince laughed and kissed his shoulder. “Good?” “Fucking incredible.” He lifted a knee onto the bed. Vince eased out and Jas collapsed on his back. “Perfect way to end a dry spell.” “Glad to be of service.” He stepped back, intending to hit the shower. 31
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“Wait.” Jas sat up. “Come here.” Vince allowed himself to be gathered into the vampire‟s arms. Jas pulled on his shoulders, dragging him down for a kiss. “You were gentler than you had to be. Thank you.” “Of course,” Vince responded, slightly insulted. Jas grinned wickedly. “Next time, leave that shit at the door.”
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Chapter Five Jas stood over his sleeping lover, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Vince had one arm thrown above his head, enunciating the definition of beautifully sculpted muscle and tendon. A month had not dimmed the excitement of new romance or dampened the appeal of Jas‟ enchantment. If only they had longer to see where this time together might lead. He dragged a silent breath in, and slowly let it out. Leaving Vince would be as hard as leaving Johan and Annabelle had been. At least they‟d had each other. Watching his team members wipe Vince‟s memory would equal the addition of insult to injury. After risking his life for their cause, he deserved better. Jas crept through the back door and cut into the woods. Moonlight touched damp leaves, sending up an ethereal glow only vampires and cats could see. In the distance he heard his team traipsing through the trees. The hearse had been a half mile away, parked in the alley behind the supermarket. At this time of night no one would be around to see it, but if they‟d driven up the drive, the sound would wake Jas. “Ouch! Damn rock.” The voice was Ruben‟s, complaining about the terrain. “These are five-hundred-dollar shoes.” “Who the fuck wears five-hundred-dollar shoes to hike in the woods?” That response was Edge‟s, ribbing him as usual. “The sole is so thin, no wonder you feel every rock and beaver turd out here.” “I don‟t have anything else. Jas is the biker-boy of the group. I wear Berlutis.” They were still teasing each other when they arrived at the pine where Jas leaned back with one foot propped against the trunk, arms crossed. Their banter ended as they met in a semicircle. Though Blade was now the lead supervisor of the team—at Jas‟ insistence—he‟d been their founder and had recruited the others. Thus, they all still looked at him as a figure of authority. And by the looks on their faces, they could tell he wasn‟t happy. “How‟s the bartender?” Ruben ventured. “Not thinking of backing out, is he?” “He‟s fine. Going in every day, pouring swill for redneck pigs, keeping both eyes open.” Jas paused over a quick clench of his jaw. “We‟re still moving forward according to plan.” Blade waited for him to continue with a mere twitch of his brows. Jas got right to the point. “I don‟t like the idea of mind-wiping him.” A tremor quivered in his gut as he said so. “It messes a person up. There‟s too much collateral damage of the brain cells. It isn‟t fair we do that to him, not after a job so involved and time-consuming as this.”
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“Jas,” Blade said quietly, a thousand meanings in that simple utterance. “It isn‟t right,” he shot again more forcefully, “after he‟s taken such a huge risk for us.” Blade started to speak, but surprisingly Edge cut him off. “You know, he might be right on this one. It‟s been, what—three, almost four weeks? That‟s a lot to wipe away. This isn‟t like a witness who caught a quick glimpse of something they shouldn‟t. This guy‟s in deep.” Ruben snickered at the reference, then gave an apologetic shrug. Blade put a hand on Jas‟ shoulder. “I know you care about Vince, and I‟m gladder than anyone that you found someone after all this time.” He managed the next words carefully. “But that may be exactly what‟s skewed your priorities.” Jas shrugged his arm off. “My priorities are just fine. Wasn‟t it you who said we protect the innocents, most importantly the innocents who help us?” “He won‟t be harmed, Jas.” He snorted. “Like hell. Look, our mission directives are ever-evolving. We need to reconsider this one. People aren‟t the cattle they once were. Shit, you know seventy-five percent of the population believes in aliens and thinks their government is involved in a conspiracy.” Which they were. “People don‟t like being censored.” “So they claim,” Ruben interjected. “You know those seventy-five percent of the population would shit their pants if they ever got real proof of us. Ignorance really is bliss and there are certain things you can‟t unlearn. Fortunately for Vince, this won‟t be one of them. He‟ll be a happier person forgetting vampires ever existed.” Jas had been shaking his head through that little speech. “That‟s where you‟re wrong. Vince is just fine with it.” “That‟s not the point.” Blade‟s firm voice cut them all to silence. “Have you all forgotten that what we‟re doing here isn‟t exactly constitutional? The secrecy of our organization, and our assignments, is critical. I could go to Panetta and ask, but I know what the answer would be right now, and doing so would damage the trust we‟ve worked so hard to achieve.” He looked over each team member as he spoke, making sure they all got the point. Then, with a sigh, he turned his steely gaze back to Jas. “Look, you may have founded the group, but you handed the reins over to me. And if it were up to me, I‟d say yes. But you know the CIA is rigid and only half accepts us. If we try making up our own rules now it would renew all the suspicion we‟ve worked for years to ditch.” “He‟s right,” Edge cut in. “It‟s follow their rules, or be considered rogue. We can‟t risk that. You know how they think. If we‟re not with them, we‟re against them. Our kind has worked too hard for the thin acceptance we‟ve managed after all these years.”
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Jas sighed, understanding the team was right even as it ate a hole in his gut. He wasn‟t about to throw away sixty years of hard work on a piece of ass, even if Vince was much more than a simple piece to him. And he had known going in, there was no future for them. “We‟re talking one guy here,” he pressed nevertheless. “All I‟m asking is that we don‟t wipe him. No one would have to know. Hell, it‟s a shitty way to repay someone who puts his life on the line for us.” “I‟m sorry, Jas. We have no choice.”
***** Despite how carefully Jas tried to crawl back into bed, Vince came awake and started to roll over. “Team meeting?” he whispered sleepily. Jas spooned up behind him and circled him with an arm. “Everything okay?” “Shh. Don‟t worry. Go back to sleep.” Vince pressed back against him and turned his head. “I‟m awake now.” Even if Jas couldn‟t see in the darkness, he would have heard the smile in Vince‟s voice. “Sorry I woke you.” “Make it worth my while—” Vince gasped as Jas closed a hand around his cock. “That‟s a good start.” He shifted to let Vince roll all the way onto his back and leaned close again. With the slightest touch of his fingertips against Vince‟s jaw, he urged the other man into his kiss. He loved the taste of sleep and dreams on Vince. He deepened his kiss, communicating his desire to cherish while at the same time trying not to alert Vince to his distress. It would be hard enough to move on after Vince, but harder yet to do it knowing the team would rob him of a critical mental achievement. Would Vince come through this with the emotional growth he‟d learned with Jas, or would he go back to the shy and unassuming man he used to be, afraid to live life to the fullest? “Is everything all right?” Vince broke their kiss to repeat the question on a sleepy breath. Despite the near darkness, Jas saw the worry shining in his pale eyes. “Fine, don‟t worry.” Even as he answered with the lie, Jas‟ hunger spiked. Vince was like a drug to him. “I just have to have you.” “Do you need to feed?” Jas pecked a kiss on his jaw. “Need to fuck.” Vince chuckled into the darkness. “All you need do is ask.” “Can I fuck you, Vince West?”
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“You know you don‟t even need to ask.” Now it was Jas‟ turn to laugh. “You‟re naked already,” Vince observed. He knew Jas preferred to sleep in his boxers, even though he went commando under his jeans. “I‟ve got it bad for you.” Vince closed a hand around Jas‟ shaft, making him suck in a breath. “I‟ll say.” Jas shifted on top, settling comfortably between Vince‟s legs so his long cock pressed against his belly. He reached for the bottle of lube on the headboard and flipped the snap-lid open with his thumb. “You know if it was up to me, I‟d stick around after this mission ended. See where things went.” Vince‟s eyes revealed his understanding. He had to be able to see the meeting had not gone well. He nodded. “But it isn‟t up to you.” Jas didn‟t answer. “Let‟s make the most of this time, then.” He closed his eyes as Jas touched between his cheeks with lube-slicked fingers. Jas skillfully strummed with his fingers, spreading the slippery lubricant up and down, over and around. Vince let out a pleased sound. “That‟s nice.” He tightened when Jas pressed a fingertip against his ass. “No don‟t—I don‟t need you to stretch me. Just fuck me straight.” Jas hesitated over a heartbeat, but didn‟t bother to ask if Vince was sure. He would know what he wanted. Jas kissed him slow and deep, and Vince leaned up to receive it. “You‟re the best I ever had, Vince.” Vince smiled. “I guess for me, that goes without saying.” Jas took his cock in his hand and quickly oiled the tip with his slippery hand. If Vince wanted a virgin fuck he‟d give it to him, but Jas was going to do what he could to make it sweet. He gripped the base of his shaft to point himself to readiness, aiming toward the core of Vince‟s body. His cock was so full of need it ached, each throb of his heartbeat a painful stroke. The tip touched Vince‟s puckered hole and Jas used every ounce of restraint to keep from ramming through. He loved Vince too much to simply pound into him for his own pleasure. Oh Jesus. I love him. Vince relaxed his body on a sigh and rocked his hips to seek Jas‟ cock. The exquisite pressure of Vince‟s resistance made Jas‟ head spin, and then his tight hole relented and Jas‟ tip slid inside Vince‟s body, held there tightly by the strong circle of muscle.
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“Yes.” Vince let his legs fall wider. “More.” Jas shifted his body weight and drove forward. Slowly but steadily, he filled Vince to the root. Once there, he held fast. Vince‟s body was hot and beautiful and Jas loved being sweetly gloved deep inside him. “Good?” “Goddamn great.” Vince‟s voice sounded tight. He squirted a stream of the lube over Vince‟s cock. Tonight, Jas was going to see that they came together. “Can you read my mind?” Vince squeezed his eyes shut as Jas started a light stroking from balls to tip. “Oh fuck yeah.” “No, why?” Jas gave a nudge of pressure with his cock without any withdrawal. “I love…the way…you do these little thrusts at first. Oh God!” he moaned, barely able to form the words. Good. Jas wanted him numb with pleasure. “You let me…get used to you…Jesus…before you fuck me in and out. It‟s so good.” “Otherwise it would be too much for you,” Jas whispered with a kiss to his neck. “Makes me want you to fuck me harder.” “Do you want me to fuck you harder now?” Vince moaned on a sigh. “Fuck yes, you know it.” Jas eased out a tiny bit, halfway out of his mind from the heat of Jas‟ lovely ass. “Like this?” “More.” “Easy, lover. Weren‟t you the one who said „let‟s make the most of our time?‟” Jas continued his slow strokes on Vince‟s cock in time with his languorous thrusts into the depths of his body. He tightened his hand in time with the deepening surges, matching the speed of his hand with the power and traverse of his cock. Vince reached up and grabbed the edge of the headboard. “Gonna…come.” “Tell me when,” Jas commanded. “Oh yeah.” Vince turned his head hard to the side. His jugular throbbed, beckoning. “Fuck me. Bite me, Jas. Fuck me. Fuck yes.” The demand was his undoing. Jas pounded with his hips, pulling out until his cockhead tugged at Vince‟s tight sphincter and then slamming back into him like a wild conqueror. Likewise his stroking fist slid up Vince‟s long shaft and over the tip so Vince was fucking his hand. Heat shot down his spine and through his balls. As if he could feel Jas‟ eruption deep in his bowels, Vince gasped. “Oh yeah, I‟m coming. Now!” Jas felt the first warm spurt as Vince let loose. His hunger ignited, Jas‟ canines shot to length. Vince‟s delicious scent engulfed him and robbed him of control. Eyes closed, he found Vince‟s jugular by his senses alone, the pounding of Vince‟s bloodstream like drums in his head. 37
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His fangs pierced deep and the flood of blood was sweeter than the finest wine. He drank deep, invigorated like nothing else in this world could do. Vince really was the best he‟d ever had. Jas had never come so hard in his life. Now, both drained and filled, reality came crashing back. Jas stilled his hips and licked Vince‟s throat. Vince fell limp and motionless beneath him. Damn, he‟d rendered him unconscious again. Poor, sweet Vince. Jas pushed up onto his elbows, still buried deep inside Vince‟s ass. He was afraid to move, not wanting to hurt him. But Vince surprised him by grinning. “You okay?” A wave of guilt crashed over Jas. “You can wake me up any time.” He kept his eyes closed, but the smile remained. He eased out of Vince‟s body gently. “I was too rough. Sorry.” Vince chuckled. “You‟re definitely the alpha in this relationship.” Now his expression did dim, as if he feared he‟d said too much. He opened his eyes. “Don‟t be sorry. If it weren‟t for your forwardness, none of this would ever have happened. You‟ve given me something really great, even if it isn‟t going to last.” Vince rolled up onto his side and slipped his hand around Jas‟ side. “I like it—that you‟re dominant. You make it easy on me, and I appreciate it.” He glanced down, hiding those pale-green eyes behind a sweep of lashes. “You know, that first night, when you said you could force me and there wouldn‟t be anything I could do to stop you…” Jas swallowed a hot breath of regret. Now that he knew Vince, he hated himself for how cruel he was that night. Vince deserved better. “I was kind of hoping you would. Then I wouldn‟t have even had to say yes.” “But you did say yes. That took a lot of courage.” “And I‟m glad I did,” Vince assured him. “I wouldn‟t have deserved this—what we‟ve shared together—if I hadn‟t.” Jas kissed him. He breathed in Vince‟s scent, marked his memory with the velvety texture of his mouth. “This is a relationship,” Jas told him. “Don‟t be afraid to say it.” Vince slid closer and pressed his forehead against Jas‟ chest. He felt him nod. “Tell me more about Vince. I want to know more about my lover.” Jas tried to lighten the mood. “What was your childhood like?” Vince coughed over a laugh. “Nothing good in that story, I promise.” “You grew up in this little house?” “It was my grandfather‟s. He left it to my mom, and she left it to me.” “The tobacco chewer wasn‟t your real dad?”
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Vince shifted closer into a more comfortable embrace. “I never knew my real dad. Rod Brogan came around when I was twelve. He looked at me like he knew, but he never said anything. That‟s what kind of man he was, he talked with his fists. It was another reason I left home when I was seventeen, right after I graduated early.” “When did you know?” “That I was gay? Early on, now that I look back. It was in high school that I became sure. I was more curious about the football players than I was the cheerleaders.” He yawned. “Another reason I left home in January after completing my credits. I had to get the hell out.” “So you went to San Francisco. But you didn‟t find what you were looking for there, either.” Jas felt a guilty pang from his selfish satisfaction Vince had been lonely before he came along. That Vince had been a virgin thrilled him more than it should. Was that why he was so possessive of him that he was considering going against his team to protect him? He realized now that he‟d been wrong to worry that if the team succeeded in wiping Vince‟s mind, they would erase the inherent changes that Vince had developed during their time together. His newfound confidence was a bone-deep thing, Jas could tell. Vince wouldn‟t stay alone for long. “What I was looking for found me,” Vince said over a sleepy sigh. “And he was worth the wait.”
***** Vince‟s excuse that he was waiting until the house sold proved to be an effective reason to stay in town. A grand total of three people had come to look at the house since, and including, the open house two weeks ago. While Jas had come out and said what they had was a relationship, he‟d also been clear that the Night Squad was only around until this drug dealer was found and dealt with. Still, Vince couldn‟t deny how wonderful it was having Jas as a bedmate. He understood now why San Francisco hadn‟t been the wonderland he‟d expected it to be when he lived there. He wasn‟t the kind of person to indulge in a loose and free sexual lifestyle. He wanted a lover, and Jas made a great one. In the four-plus weeks they‟d spent in intimate quarters, there had been much more than blistering sex between them. They often spent long hours just talking like they had last night, and while one part of him understood this was a temporary relationship founded wholly on their task, he also recognized Jas knew him better than any other person ever had. The rusty bell rattled as the front door banged open. It was after one on Wednesday night, the place cleared out, so the arrival caught his attention.
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He thought he would be excited, terrified, or even exhilarated when the drug dealer finally returned, but when Vince saw the Iceman and his three goons stalk across the front room, the only emotion he felt was regret. He had asked Jas what would happen after he tipped the vampires, but the answer had always been vague and noncommittal. Would he even see Jas after they came in and did their jobs? His instructions were clear—make the call, get the hell out. The first night he‟d met the Night Squad, those had been horrifying orders. Now they felt like the dismal end to what had been a fantastic few weeks. The group walked past without sparing him a glance, as if they owned the place. Hell, maybe they did. Vince waited until the group disappeared down the hall to Bill‟s office to make the call, and even then he kept it in code when Jas answered. “Hey, it‟s Vince. Do you want to get together tonight?” Jas caught his breath. “Is he there?” “Sure, I can leave early tonight.” “We‟ll be there in five. Get out as quick as you can. Vince—” “Yeah?” There was the briefest pause on the other end. “Don‟t talk to any of my team. If you see them, go the other way.” “Okay.” “I mean it, Vince.” An icy shiver skittered up his spine. “Get in your car and drive. Don‟t come home. Go to the next town and get a hotel room if you have to.” Vince‟s stomach jittered as he hung up. Trudy had cut out an hour ago, claiming a headache. Even though the place was empty, he was taking a risk trying to leave before closing. He walked to the open end of the bar, intending to turn right and go straight for the door. Before he reached the end the two goons stepped into his path. Vince shifted to pass them, but they blocked him. “Excuse me. I‟m clocking out.” “Not now, you‟re not.” The big one, a stereotypical Italian goon with no neck, seized Vince‟s arm. “Boss wants a word.” Panic hit his chest like a sledgehammer. “Hey, fuck off.” This was going wrong fast. The guy only tightened his grip, digging his fingers into the underside of Vince‟s arm. He steered him into the small office and shoved him into the chair beside their boss. Across the desk, Bill sat red-faced and tense. “What the hell, Dominguez?” The third bodyguard stood to his left, and with the two from the hall who crowded in behind, they made a threatening ring around Vince.
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The Iceman was not your typical drug dealer. His eyes were clear and direct— piercingly so—and his expensive suit was worn with sophistication and ease. This guy was all business. “Open him up,” he said in a deadly calm voice. Chilling fear leeched into his marrow as he expected to be filleted like a rump roast. No-Neck leaned over him and ripped open Vince‟s shirt with a meaty fist. They thought he was wearing a wire? “How long has he worked here?” the Iceman asked. “He‟s my bartender. He grew up here, for crissakes.” “That doesn‟t mean he‟s not a rat.” Dominguez opened his hands in a casual dismissal. “We‟ve got a problem, Bill. Someone has been passing information about the trucks. The last nine out of twelve shipments out of your place have been hit by the feds. Until we find out who it is, no one is above suspicion. Not even you.” Bill‟s fat face bloomed purple. “Now hold on a minute. This is my livelihood. You think I‟d snitch out my own retirement?” “If it meant saving that retirement from being lived out in the gray bar hotel.” Dominguez gave a curt nod, as if to condemn and apologize all at once. “You understand my position.” Vince‟s heart thundered in his ears. “Don‟t get me mixed up in your shit, Bill.” “Shut up.” Bill glared at him. “Your story changes by the day. First it was ‟til your ma died. Then it was ‟til the funeral. Now you‟re staying until the house sells. You seem to keep finding reasons to hang around.” “What the fuck, I don‟t need to explain myself to you. I was just giving you the courtesy. Hell, I make minimum wage here and you cut into my tips, pigeon shit that they are. I can‟t afford to go anywhere until the house sells.” Vince was rambling, prickled with sweat. He was too young to die, and any age was too young for what these types usually did to a body. Jesus, had it been five minutes? Where the hell were the agents? “Sounds suspicious to me,” No-Neck said. He withdrew a sleek black pistol from a shoulder holster hidden under his coat. “Hey—oh! I said no weapons,” Bill growled. Vince risked speaking up. At this point, he had nothing to lose. “What it sounds like is Bill trying to shift the blame for whatever trouble he‟s gotten himself into.” The Iceman lifted a hand, staying his goon. “And we will get to the bottom of this.” He let the statement hang, an obvious threat to all. Vince‟s heartbeat thundered in his ears. The Iceman‟s frigid gaze turned Vince‟s blood to ice. Finally he turned to Bill.
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“You have one last chance to prove yourself, Billy Boy. Anything happens to this shipment, and it won‟t just be a matter of my finding another business associate. I‟ll cut out your heart.” “Aw, Doug, you don‟t gotta talk like that. We‟re old friends.” Bill forced a shaky laugh. “We‟re going to have a friendly talk with your man, here.” He nodded a silent command to No-Neck. “Take him with us.” Vince‟s heart had been clogging his throat. Now it dropped into his stomach like a ball of ice. He opened his mouth for one last plea for his too-short life, but couldn‟t form the words. Jas, where are you? At that instant all hell broke loose.
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Chapter Six Glass exploded inward as Edge swung through the window feet-first like a gymnast-ninja. At the same instant the hall door burst open so violently the top hinge ripped off. A flash of black hair and pale skin whipped across Vince‟s vision. Jas. A glint of silver reflected the yellow light of the sickly lamp on Bill‟s desk. Bill winced in his chair and uttered a strange gulping sound. A spray of blood hit the cheap veneer paneling behind him. His head flopped backward and blood fountained from both jugulars. The Iceman‟s goons were fumbling with their weapons, but for what seemed an eternity hung in time, everyone including Vince gawked at the shocking horror of it. Dual sprays of blood squirted so high Bill looked like a Halloween prop. Gunfire boomed and blood sprayed from Jas‟ upper arm even as he threw the knife. It sank deep into the smaller goon‟s throat with a squishy thunk, more vivid and grotesque than any movie sound effect. The Iceman leapt from his chair, crouched, and made a break for the door. Jas punched him, sending him flying backward into Vince. His chair rocked and nearly tipped over. Two shots rang out behind him and Vince heard a crack where one struck the wall. He understood Edge was fighting the two goons, but he was too afraid to turn around and look. He shoved the Iceman off, knocking his aim as he tried to shoot Jas. Two gunshots boomed like thunder, but now they sounded muffled. Vince had gone half deaf. Jas grabbed the Iceman by the ears and twisted, breaking his neck with a chilling crunch. Even as he was dying, the man managed to squeeze off two shots, one spraying blood from Jas‟ thigh. “No!” Vince‟s throat felt as if it was on fire, his tongue swollen too large for his mouth. He was swimming through a nightmare from which he couldn‟t force himself awake. Jas leapt at him and flipped his chair, sending Vince over backward. His head smacked the floor and light exploded in his eyes like a flash pop. As it faded from light to dark he saw Jas wince, watched a bloom of blood spread across his chest. He reached toward his lover. His own hand looked far away, through a long dark tunnel of swallowing darkness.
*****
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“Dammit.” Jas tried to sit up, but his legs had gone funky. The bullet had nicked his spine on the way out. He pressed a hand to his ribs to staunch the blood and felt the protrusion of the broken rib it had smashed through on the way in. His forearm wept blood and his thigh had a massive hole that hurt like a sonofabitch, but even as he lay on the floor like a twitching fish, the wounds began to knit themselves up. Why had Vince still been here? They must have suspected Vince was the leak that had busted his trucks. He‟d heard Dominguez say they were taking Vince with him before he‟d crashed the room. It had been a tense few minutes of flying bullets before Jas managed to push Vince to the floor, and even that hadn‟t guaranteed his safety. He lifted his hand, examining the stain of his own blood. The wounds were a separate issue. If he didn‟t feed, the healing would slow, and soon stop. The hunger had already set in, prompted by his own blood loss. Jas rolled onto his side, looking for Vince around the corner of the desk. He could deal with the injuries. Even if he went into bloodshock, he wouldn‟t die. And it wouldn‟t be the first time he‟d walked around with horrific injuries that didn‟t heal. World War II had been particularly bad. If only his damn spine would heal enough to make his limbs behave. He had to get Vince to safety. “Helluva show.” “Nice of you to join us,” Edge said to Ruben. “What, didn‟t want to get blood on your fancy shoes?” “Actually, I‟ve been spitting up blood for the last hour. Did you know Trudy is a binge druggie?” “As if you couldn‟t tell just by looking at her.” “I couldn‟t!” Jas watched Edge heave a still-limp Vince over his shoulder in a fireman‟s carry. A surge of adrenaline flash-froze on his skin. “Is he hit?” “Don‟t worry, he‟s fine.” Blade stepped into the doorway, but stopped to let Edge pass through with Vince. He took in the scene with a calm, intelligent gaze before settling on Jas with a look of warning. Without a word, he strode out behind Edge. Jas struggled to sit up. “Get me up. I need to feed.” Kneeling beside him, Ruben stayed him with a hand against his shoulder. “We‟ve got cleaners and feeders on the way.” “I don‟t want some anonymous feeder. You know I can‟t stand that.” Feeders were pure and clean, most often virgins, but their blood lacked uniqueness, personality. It was like drinking lukewarm water when you really wanted an ice-cold beer. And there was only one man he wanted to taste. One man whose blood he craved more than his next breath. “Jas, it‟s too late. They‟re working on him right now. Probably already halfway done.”
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He settled back on the floor, all the fight gone out of him. It was so unfair. Vince deserved better. Ruben glanced around at the carnage. “We got him. There‟s a Mercedes in the parking lot with two kilos of heroin in the trunk.” The hand pressing on Jas‟ shoulder let up for a good-natured pat. “Congratulations. Your boy did good.” “He damn near got killed for it.” “Yeah, well damn near only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.”
***** “Is he dead?” The voice sounded like Blade‟s. “Naw, dude, his heart‟s still beating.” The mean one…Edge. “He does smell good. I wonder what his blood type is.” “It‟s moot now.” “Think Jas would mind if I took a little taste?” “I think Jas would rip your head off if you took a little taste.” “Ah well, good thing guys aren‟t my type.” Someone slapped his cheeks. Vince lay on the ground under the pine trees across the back lot. The thick carpet of dry needles made a prickly bed. Their bitter scent engulfed him. He peeled open his eyes. The black sky above glittered with stars. Vince bolted upright. “Jas—” “Whoa. Take it easy.” Edge and Blade leaned over him. “He was shot—” “He‟ll be fine.” They were looking at him strangely. “You are going to be fine too.” Their voices sound odd, almost echoing like a telephone line with a bad connection. “I wasn‟t hit—” “Nobody has been harmed. Nothing happened here tonight.” A split second of confusion gave way to a horrifying understanding. They were trying to wipe his mind. Vince sagged back onto the pine needles. They can’t do this. In his peripheral vision he saw a white van pull into the back lot. Men dressed in overalls, like plumbers or electricians—or cleaners—climbed out and entered the bar through the service door. “Your boss Bill Wheeler has disappeared. Rumor has it he‟s on the run from a federal indictment.” Concentrate on something else. Vince thought of his mother‟s rosemary hedge in the backyard. He pictured its untamed bushiness, its tiny blue flowers exploding with spring. “You thought he might be moving drugs through here, but you were never sure. You never saw any proof.”
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“I thought…but I never saw…” Edge‟s voice drifted to the back of his mind as Vince focused on the fragrant green spines, the delicate blue petals. Are those flowers edible? I should try cooking with them. Maybe try adding them to a salad.
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Chapter Seven Vince added a lemon curl to the dainty edge of a Blue Moon martini. The pretty customer gave him an enticing smile. When she pushed her change back at him he thanked her politely, and moved down the bar. San Francisco‟s classy Eclectic Lounge was a million miles away from Rowdy‟s, but Vince still clung to his invisible bartender persona. His reasons for staying invisible were now different. Before he hadn‟t wanted his sexuality discovered. Now, free to live life as he wanted but missing Jas terribly, he didn‟t want to be admired—by men or women. And now, knowing that vampires existed, he cautiously watched every pair of eyes for a mysterious flash, glanced at every set of teeth for elongated canines. His mother‟s house had sold the day after Bill Wheeler and his drug-dealing associates had been “cleaned” from the face of the earth. He suspected the mysterious buyer‟s purchase price, overbid asking, had been part of his reward. He was certain the mysterious inheritance of two-point-three million dollars his mother could not possibly have possessed had been the other part. Strangely, what he wanted more would have been a goodbye from Jas. Even simply the assurance he was all right. One last night with his unabashed lover was too much to hope for, but still a guy could dream. While his mind had been foggy for weeks after the incident at the bar, he vividly remembered the long conversations with Jas, the hot, sweaty sex, the tender embraces while fading off to sleep in a tangle of arms and legs. Nothing anyone could do would ever wipe Jas from his memories. In the six months he‟d been back in San Francisco he hadn‟t once partied at a gay bar, or considered employment at one. He understood now he was more of a relationship kind of guy, even as he knew what he‟d had with Jas couldn‟t truly be called a relationship. Jas had said it was, but people in relationships that meant half a damn didn‟t just disappear. Still, those few weeks had been amazing. Vince didn‟t want one-nighters with nameless, unknown guys just looking to get off. He wanted the vampire who found him unique and delicious. From the corner of his eye he saw the pretty blonde‟s date arrive, and moved to take his order. A deep laugh made Vince‟s skin prickle. He almost didn‟t recognize Jas, and for a moment he was afraid to let himself think it was really him.
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Vince hadn‟t thought it was possible he could be any more handsome, but with his hair trimmed neatly, goatee shaved off, and wearing a contrasting silk shirt and tie in muted gray, the sexy vampire made a striking sight that rendered him speechless. The blonde continued to titter and preen, but Jas‟ expression turned serious as he locked in on Vince with those blue eyes. Vince placed a frosted mug on the hammered-copper bar. He cracked open a bottle of Dos Equis and poured it slowly, careful to avoid a head. Ignoring the blonde, Jas formed a slow smile. He‟d gotten the message. I remember you. “Let me get that, baby,” the blonde said. She tossed out a ten without glancing at Vince. The bar was busy, and the next time Vince turned around they were both gone. A spike both sad and joyful seared his gut. At least he now had the confirmation Jas survived his injuries. For the next three hours he trudged through his shift, hardly believing it had really been Jas. At two thirty he clocked out and started his trek home, having half-convinced himself he‟d imagined the whole thing. As he turned from Bryant onto Fifth, Vince started to feel as if he wasn‟t alone. A glance behind showed a lone figure, cloaked in shadows. Tall, lanky, but with broad shoulders. The tails of a long coat danced in the breeze, despite the unusually warm evening. Vince turned into the long, recessed walkway to his building‟s door, glancing once behind to see a shadow flit across the dark street. Was it Jas? Or someone here to try finishing the mind-wiping job? The figure looked like Jas, but he wouldn‟t keep his presence a secret. Maybe someone had been watching Vince in the bar, looking for that miniscule, telltale sign he had remembered. It wouldn‟t be the first time since coming to San Francisco he‟d felt as though someone was watching him. He entered the building, let the door fall shut behind him. It echoed across the foyer, crisp over the minimalist décor. He started up the open stairwell, preferring it to the elevator. On the fourth floor he stopped to listen. The door didn‟t open again, but it wouldn‟t. This was a secured building. Vince started forward again, but froze when he heard the thud of booted feet hit the landing below. Only firemen, or Spiderman, could access the building through the open terraced sections in the stairwell that began on the second floor. Heavy footsteps started up. Vince hit the fifth and top floor of the renovated warehouse. He slotted the key and opened the door to his loft. Jas loomed behind him, grabbed him, and pinned him to the wall of his entry.
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His rich, heady scent tossed Vince back in time and made his dick jump to attention. A surge of relief warmed his entire body. “I‟ve missed you,” Vince whispered. The dull pain he‟d suffered these last lonely months flared hot and bright. Jas smiled. “That‟s all I needed to hear.” His fangs flashed and he dove for the jugular Vince exposed to him. Hot, piercing pain satisfied Vince‟s raw need. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the solid feel of Jas‟ body pressing in hard, the fire of those fangs buried in his flesh, the satisfied groan of the vampire drinking deep. Instant dizziness made the room spin. “I would have come sooner if I could.” Jas‟ words slid in from far away as awareness came back. Vince felt a tugging, and a warm hand closed around his cock. He reached down, found Jas‟ pants were also opened. Jas shoved his hips forward and their cocks came together, shaft to shaft. Vince cupped his fingers around Jas‟ thicker girth, feeling a warm bloom in his chest at its familiar texture and weight. He gripped Jas with more than desire, also there was a huge amount of relief. “I saw you shot,” he breathed out. “I thought…the worst.” “I‟m sorry you had to see any of that. I‟ll make it up to you,” Jas promised. “I‟ll give you so much pleasure you‟ll forget the pain.” He demanded Vince‟s mouth and Vince surrendered, eager to be shown how solid, fierce, and truly Jas he really was. He palmed the length of Vince‟s cock, showing him how to return the touch so they tugged each other in synchronized rhythm. Jas‟ cock was warm and sweet against his own. He felt heat building in his balls and his skin became hypersensitive. “I thought for sure I‟d find you working in a gay bar.” Jas murmured the words cautiously between slow kisses. “Living in the gay community.” “I realized that wasn‟t what I was looking for. God, Jas. I missed the feel of you.” “So, you‟re still single?” Vince gasped as his balls grew tight. “That depends on you.” Jas responded by shifting his hips closer. “Tell me what you want.” “I want you.” Vince moaned as pleasure built. “Nothing less and nothing more than you.” He gritted his teeth as Jas‟ talented hand brought him higher and higher toward that magical plateau. Bright lights flashed in his eyes and he erupted in a gush. “Yeah, come for me, Vince.” The next instant Jas‟ ejaculation mixed with his, coating Vince‟s hand with sticky warmth. Jas grunted in satisfaction. They slowed until there was no movement at all, just the gentle pressure of one‟s hand on the other‟s cock, hot shafts standing side by side. Jas leaned against him, still embracing Vince against the wall. “Can you stay the night?” Vince asked, risking rejection with a fast-beating heart. “Because I really want to fuck you.”
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“I can stay much more than the night.” Jas leaned away so he could look him in the eye. “I came back to be with you.” Vince felt himself grin like a fool. “Really?” “Thanks to you, the team received commendation for taking down Doug Dominguez. I asked for a transfer, and they gave me a promotion instead. I‟m heading up a new field office here in the city.” Warm emotion bloomed in his chest, a mixture of relief, joy and pride. “That‟s great. You deserve it, Jas.” “The guys want to throw a party for you one night next week.” Jas matched the grin Vince couldn‟t wipe off his face. “Me, I want to show my appreciation other ways. So why don‟t you give me a tour of this place, starting with the bedroom.” He stepped back and held out his hand. Vince took it. “I‟d love to.”
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About the Author Crystal Kauffman is an award-winning, multi-published author who is the luckiest woman alive—she has her very own real-life prince charming for a husband. Crystal loves all genres of fiction, as long as they have lots of steamy sex and lots of satisfying romance. She‟s been a closet erotica writer since…well, let‟s just say before it was legal for her to buy it. Then the greatest thing happened. Publishing houses catering specifically to erotica were born, bringing Crystal out of the closet. The formation of Romance Writers of America‟s Passionate Ink chapter, where she could mingle with other like-minded erotica writers, was proverbial icing on the cake. Crystal welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Crystal Kauffman Claiming Lady Marianne Saving Lady Ilsa
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