Primal Cravings (10 page)

“What?” he asked.

“You were staring into the mirror for at least ten minutes.”

“What? No.” He shook his head. “I just walked into the room.”

She shook her head. “I’ve been watching you.”

“Then your sense of time is off.”

Her eyes were wide, sensual pools. A faint sheen of sweat made her skin glow.

She said, “Lots of things about me are off, but—”

“Is your name really Delilah?”

She made a face. “Unfortunately. I have a twin brother named Samson. And a sister named Vixen. We have no idea what Mom was thinking.” She put her hand over her mouth for a moment. “Chatty, aren’t I? Sorry to inflict my fam—”

“None of us sprang fully formed out of Zeus’s forehead,” Jake told her. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my family too, lately.”

“Old family or new Family?”

Valid question. None of her business.

“My Tribe brothers,” he said. “I hadn’t thought of them in years, but all of a sudden….” He shrugged. He was grieving for them. And there was a kind of odd, senseless hope….

“How are you feeling, Delilah?”

“Not well enough to kick your ass for calling me Delilah, but better.”

Her arousal wasn’t throbbing quite so hot and hard inside her, but Jake still sensed her need. Her gaze swept over him, hungry for him.

Hungry for anything with a penis.

“Not necessarily,” she said.

“What?” He was saying that far too much.

“I didn’t say anything.”

She had. It hadn’t been telepathy.

“I saw your mouth move, McCoy.”

“If you say so.” She patted the edge of the bed. “Relax, Piper.”

He glanced between her, the bed, back to her. “You’re not planning on having your way with me, are you?”

“Yes. But I’ll resist the impulse.”

“Pity.”

They smiled at each other. Jake had the oddest reaction from smiling at the mortal—he liked it. Sharing a moment of humor with her was—nice. Damn.

He sat. She scooted from the center of the double bed to the other side. Jake kept his gaze on her face, as the sheet seemed to have a mind of its own. The naughty thing kept trying to slip off and reveal more of McCoy than was safe for him to see.

“Did you call in?” she asked.

“No bars,” he answered.

She touched the center of her forehead, referring to telepathy.

“No bars,” he said again.

He expected her to question his not using telepathy. She asked, “Do you have a headache? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes. No.”

“My bad.”

“You did a brave—stupid—thing. My condition is no one’s fault. Just bad timing.”

“You’re hungry, aren’t you? I’m sorry. Let’s get out of here and find you some blood.”

Her concern for him was genuine. And she had almost no fear that he’d take advantage of the food source seated only a few inches across the bed from him. Something else was also causing her pleasure, but Jake couldn’t tell what.

McCoy got up, dragging the sheet with her. She wound it around her body, and Jake thought how much fun it would be to spin her out of the cloth. It would be like opening the best present ever.

“Where’s my go bag?” she asked.

He pointed to the spot by the door where he’d stowed their stuff.

She picked up her bag and turned toward the bathroom. He stood as she said, “I’ll only be a min—”

Then the first surge of the earthquake threw them both to the thin carpeting.

Chapter Eighteen

Dee fell to the floor as the earth bucked and rolled. She covered her head and smothered the urge to scream. The bed shook. The world growled and grumbled. She heard pictures crashing down off the walls.

“It’s not real,” she repeated over and over as she shook with fear. “It’s not real. Imagining it.”

* * *

Jake crawled to McCoy. He grabbed her by the shoulder, pulled her to him. Her head burrowed against his shoulder. “It’s real!” he shouted as the world reeled and rocked. “It’s happening! It’s real, McCoy!”

* * *

Dee held onto Piper. She held on as hard as she could. He was so solid. So real. So male. His embrace was a protective barrier between her and that madness that made her think the earth shoo—

“It’s real! It’s happening! It’s real, McCoy!”

Dee giggled at his words, at the old saying. She was hysterical, knew it, and couldn’t stop it.

“What are you laughing about? What’s the matter?”

* * *

The world stopped shaking. Dee kept laughing.

Jake kept one arm hooked around her waist. Her naked breasts pressed into his chest. He raised her chin with his other hand.

“Look at me. What’s the matter with you?”

Her eyes were filled with tears bright as diamonds. And humor wild as a storm. Her lips, open with laughter, were red and ripe and —

Jake’s mouth came down on hers, all restraint broken. The kiss held a lifetime of hunger. Months of need for her and her alone.

Her response was fire and passion incarnate. Completely overwhelming. She drew him closer, her fingers clasped in his hair. His hands moved over her, finding her breasts, her hard nipples.

She moaned into his mouth, her back arching, her tongue surging against his.

Piper’s caresses were hard and harsh, his kiss demanding. Dee wanted and needed this. Just like this.

A sharp tooth pricked the tender skin of her lower lip. She moaned, half in pain, half in pleasure.

The taste was hot lightning wine on Jake’s tongue.

There was no stopping the roaring hunger. He didn’t have the wits. He didn’t have the self-control. All he had was the overwhelming hungerthirstburn.

His mouth moved to her throat. He instinctively found the perfect pulsing spot and the scent of hot blood beneath. Sharp points pierced tender flesh. Sweet wet coppery heat filled his mouth. He suckled her lifeblood—and gave—

Dee screamed as the orgasm took her. She flew away out of herself into a golden realm of pure molten pleasure. Her senses swam into the sun, melted through it, came out weak and wasted and hungry for more.

Somewhere deep inside her being the word
neverending
echoed and reverberated—in Yakov Piper’s voice. For a forever second she believed it, wanted it, and knew he felt the same. Then his mouth came off her throat, his dark, dark eyes looked into hers. There was only lust in his eyes. No emotion but passion.

And that was fine with her. It needed to be.

She turned her head and closed her eyes.

Jake could have drunk her dry but his body demanded more of her. He needed all of her. His hands and mouth roamed McCoy’s body, licking, kissing, nipping. A row of freckles ran across her breasts. The tip of his tongue touched every one as it found its way down to her nipples. He suck and teased them and drew a drop of blood from each with the most delicate prick of his fangs. Waves of pleasure rolled over her and through him at this. He traced the design of the tattoo around her naval with his tongue.

He was aware that the spell amping up her sex drive had been burned away in the first rushes of her orgasms. The pure animal response now was all hers, all what he was doing to her. The power he held over her heightened his passion.

He moved further down her body, breathed in her tangy scent, tasted her sex. Made her scream as another orgasm took her.

How he loved this power over her!

But he was at the end of his own control.

Jake shifted onto his knees, wrapped his hands around her ass, and brought her hips up, brought his cock into her with a smooth, deep thrust.

He remained still as long as he could, savoring the moment, the feel, what he’d wanted for months. She was hot, deep, tight heaven.

He remembered that this was not a conquest, but a moment of mutual pleasure when she wrapped her legs around his hips and demanded, “Move! Now!”

“Happy to,” he rasped.

* * *

Dee held on tight and rode the rising tide of passion. She went higher on each urgent thrust. Knew he climbed with her. Lightning rippled through her, through him, in a psychic, physical feedback loop building to the a shattering explosion point at his final, urgent thrust.

Piper’s body on top of hers was hot, sweaty, heavy, and made her feel completely protected as she came down from the highs of mind mixed with body sex and bloodletting. The world was still full of aftershocks and rippling explosions. Delicious. Delightful. Completion at the maximum and —

Aftershocks.

“Earthquake!”

His head rested on her shoulder. Her yell went straight into his ear. Piper’s response was a deep, tired groan. Then he grunted and lifted his head to look her in the eyes. “The earthquake’s over.” He smiled as he added. “In so many ways.”

She smiled back. Good goddess, she was smiling at the Prime she vowed never to get close to!
Not that they could get much closer than this. Physically
, she told herself—but that smile sent an emotional wave through her that held all sort of levels of feelings besides the aftermath of lust. There was liking for him mixed in with the other stuff. How could she have let this happen?

“There might be aftershocks,” she said.

He knew what she meant, but he still showed her a tiny bit of fang. “There might well be.”

She thought about pushing him off of her, but she couldn’t get her muscles to work, her hands to push. She did manage to run her fingers lazily down his back, and briefly cupped his ass. She couldn’t recall when or how he’d taken off his clothes. But vampires were certainly known to move quickly. Wasn’t there something in Stoker about the dead travel fast?

Piper was anything be dead.

Her body was lethargic, humming and thrumming with satiation. She was too content right where she was. Right where he was. She could feel his penis against her thigh, still partially erect. Her insides clenched, already needing him inside her again.

Damn it.

Yeah, yeah, duty calls
, she told herself.
You don’t have to answer it just yet.

“It’s the drugs,” he said, reading her kindling lust.

“Don’t make excuses for me. You know it isn’t. And it wasn’t drugs, it was magic,” she answered, too quickly. She shouldn’t admit to wanting him. Him. Not just the need to mate that had tortured her for hours. “I needed that,” she told him.

“You needed it? Ha! Woman, you have no idea.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Perhaps you do. We were both pushed beyond our limits.”

“Yeah.” She liked that explanation. Excuse. Whatever.

“What were you laughing about? Or was it just a reaction to hysteria?”

It took Dee a moment to recall what he was asking about. “Oh! The Real McCoy. You said that.”

“I told you that the earthquake was real. How was that funny?”

“You didn’t use that old saying ‘the real McCoy’ as a joke to get my attention?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of this old saying.”

“You’re kidding! You really haven’t been out in the world very long, have you?”

Another head shake. “I do my best to follow pop culture.”

“This is an old saying, but everybody knows it. Except you, I guess.

“Explain, please.”

“There was a rum runner during Prohibition who was named McCoy—”

“A relation?”

“Not that I know of. The booze he smuggled in from Canada was the best liquor available, name-brand stuff. His reputation for quality got his product labeled The Real McCoy. So, the saying means that something is genuine.”

“The best?”

“I certainly am. Anyway, anyone named McCoy gets teased with that saying—along with, ‘Damn it, Jim, I’m a doctor not a—’ fill in the blank. Okay, you don’t get that one, either,” she said as he continued to look ever more puzzled. “Dr. McCoy. Classic
Star Trek.
”

“Let’s stick to one mortal cultural explanation at a time, shall we, McCoy?”

“Agreed, Piper.”

He smiled.

She touched the curve of his lips, ran fingers over his chin and up his jaw. He needed a shave. She’d been wanting to touch him for weeks, months. She just hadn’t realized it until now. She hated the Prime because she wanted him so badly it drove her to hysteria. She wanted him because of her fear from the quake, because—

“Hanging out with a Prime makes a girl horny,” she complained.

“You’ve been hanging out with Primes for years.”

“Don’t I know it. It puts a girl into an all-over pervasive kind of funk. It gets to the a point where it’s just a normal background fizz of hormonal disturbance and you don’t notice.”

“Why are you talking in third person? Does it help distance you from talking about lust? Mortals don’t like to talk about their own needs, I’ve noticed. Puritan ancestors, I suppose.”

“Hey! None of my ancestors were witch-hanging Puritans.” She gave an exaggerated shudder.

Piper’s reaction was a growl and he pressed his body even closer to hers. Dee shifted her thigh. Within a moment he was inside her again. She rose into his thrusts. Heat coiled deep within her body and her soul. His passion twined with hers, mind to mind. She was engulfed in blackfireburning urgency. She had a moment of being terrified. A fear of being devoured, smothered. Then some barrier in Dee’s mind melted away. Her mind opened to him the way her body did. Passion poured into her, out of her, blended as bodies joined. They fitted together in every way possible. It was frantic, hungry, necessary. If there was going to be burning, they would burn together.

Not only burn, but fly.

Dee soared over the edge with almost every one of Piper’s long, hard, fast strokes. She was vaguely aware of her wild responses, of clawing and biting and doing everything she could to bring him closer. She wanted his taste. She wanted his skin melded with hers.

She wanted his blood.

By the goddess, she needed his blood!

He threw back his head and roared as her teeth sank into his shoulder. But it wasn’t in pain. It wasn’t in protest.

It was fury.

His orgasm exploded with his outrage.

The same outrage shot pain through Dee’s head even though pleasure ripped through her as well.