Kiss Across Time (Kiss Across Time Series) Page 9

  “No,” Veris told her. “Not yet.”

  She groaned.

  He was spreading her thighs wider, exposing her delicate folds. Then he stroked them.

  She trembled. The blunt tip of his cock was mere fractions of an inch away from the entrance to her pussy and every erotic fold rippled at the thought of his thick rod thrusting into her. She looked up him. “Now. Please.”

  Veris tugged on her hips so that her bottom was almost off the seat. His hand cradled her ass. He bent over her again, his arm pistoning out alongside her head to prop himself up against the back of the seat once more. “Now you get to scream for us, Taylor.”

  She shuddered at the dark promise in his voice but her fear didn’t last for long, for the wide cap of his cock speared into her pussy, pushing inside her, stretching her, demanding entry. She caught her breath as he drove in to the hilt, his balls slapping against her ass.

  “So hot,” he muttered, pausing.

  Brody rested his hand on her pussy where Veris’ cock penetrated her. “So lovely,” he murmured. His long fingers slipped into the heated folds of her labia and nestled for one delicious heartbeat against her starved clit, then they were gone. She gasped. Brody leaned down and kissed her briefly, then turned his head to kiss Veris. Then he moved behind Veris.

  Veris withdrew his cock, almost all the way from her, then slid back in, in a slow move that had her writhing in agonized pleasure. His blue eyes watched her every move, measuring her desperation.

  Brody’s hands settled on Veris’ hips from behind and Veris’ eyes closed briefly. He lowered his head to touch his lips to Taylor’s forehead. “You like to watch,” he said hoarsely. “Then watch.” He turned his head and jerked his chin at the smoked glass in the windows.

  She looked and saw the reflections there. She saw herself on the seat, with Veris bent over her with his powerful shoulders holding her up, his cock pounding into her. Brody was behind Veris, his hand on the Northman’s back, the other on his hip, his cock spearing the other man’s ass. The look on his face was one of great intensity.

  It was one of the most erotic sights Taylor had ever seen. Before she could even process it intellectually, her body responded. Her climax tore up from her toes, ripping through her nerves and shredding them in one pass. She shrieked, as her body locked tight in a convulsive, iron-hard throbbing peak.

  “Say ‘yes’, Taylor,” Veris gasped hoarsely, as he pumped his silken shaft into her. “Say it.”

  The chaffing of his cock against her pulsing cunt sent off another climax. She shuddered and screamed again and this time she felt Veris’ cum spurting inside her as her rippling vagina milked his cock into an orgasm. Then his mouth was at her neck.

  “God damn it, Taylor,” he whispered. His teeth sank into her flesh and this, her third orgasm, made her vision swim and the world seemed to gray out around her for a while.

  When she could focus once more and her heartbeat was steady, Veris was still holding her, waiting for her to recover. His eyes had a sleepy, satiated look but she sensed a dangerous edge to his expression. His cock was no longer inside her and Brody was sitting on the other seat, thrusting his legs into his pants.

  She pushed herself up on her arms, so that she could sit on the seat properly and reached for the faux fur coat. Moving awkwardly, she slipped her arms into it. Veris leaned back so that she could get it on without hitting him but he continued to watch without comment, or without moving away from her. She could feel the anger pouring off him.

  When she was fully covered by the coat, she picked up his one-way aviators and slid them on and looked at Brody. “Can you tell the driver I want to be dropped off at my apartment?” She gave him the address.

  Brody considered her for a long moment. “You’re leaping from the carnival ride, then?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said flatly. “While I have that choice.”

  Veris looked away, toward the smoked glass window, but not before she saw his eyes shut.

  Then Brody lowered the blackened glass that divided their compartment and the driver’s just enough to speak to the driver.

  Chapter Nine

  “Taylor?”

  Taylor turned from locking her apartment door to face Andy, who stood in the hallway, his hands thrust deep into his jeans pockets, his head tilted to one side quizzically.

  “Hi Andy,” she said, extending the handle on the suitcase and walking toward him, dragging it behind her. As she pushed her hand into the pocket of her coat, her cellphone vibrated, announcing another text message. It was the fourth in the last hour and they had all been Jeoffery. Her last message to him had not satisfied him at all.

  Andy’s mouth dropped open and his hands came out of his pockets and up to his cheeks in stunned amazement as she reached him. “Oh my god!” he said, giving a surprised laugh. “You look…wow, you look amazing!”

  Taylor clutched the neck of the faux fur coat tighter around her throat. She hadn’t even stopped to put on clothes, yet. Apart from the stockings and stilettos, she was naked beneath it. Brody’s warning as she had climbed from the limousine had forced her to pack and do nothing else.

  “Don’t stay in your apartment, Taylor. Not for the next few days. Find somewhere unexpected to hide out that the queen won’t be able to find.”

  “But she said she would be happy with you two watching me, as long as Domhnall never shows up in the history books,” Taylor pointed out.

  “And there’s never been a powerful leader who has flat out lied, ever,” Brody replied, his expression patient.

  Taylor felt stupid. “Oh,” she said.

  Brody shifted his arm on the top of the limo door. “In a few days, we’ll know if she has tried to come after you or not. Then you’ll be able to make more permanent plans for your life.”

  “Jesus, Brody, what have you got me into?”

  He just looked at her.

  “Yeah, okay,” she agreed. “I got into this myself.”

  He smiled and touched her cheek gently. “And now you’re getting yourself out. That takes guts, Maggie Taylor Yates. I wish you well.”

  She clamped her jaw tight against the need to protest that she had changed her mind that was welling up inside her. Now that she was on the brink of walking away, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to.

  She glanced past Brody’s shoulder to where she could see Veris’ knee, all that was visible of him, where he sat in the corner of the limousine, refusing to say goodbye. “Take care of him,” she whispered.

  Brody nodded.

  Taylor blinked at the scalding hot tears building in her eyes and whirled and walked away quickly, across the sidewalk to the front door of her building. She had forced herself not to look back at all, but to keep walking until she was safely inside the building.

  Once she was in the apartment, she packed hurriedly – clothes and essentials for about a week – and all the while she felt like someone was standing behind her, watching her. It made her move faster and faster until she was almost sprinting around the apartment.

  She was relieved when she finally shut the door.

  Now she faced Andy, her suitcase next to her, the faux coat hiding her nakedness, and realized that all he could see would be the glittering stilettos, silk stockings, fur coat, and elaborate makeup.

  “You look…fabulous,” Andy ventured. “Holy hell, that was some backstage pass!” He looked at the suitcase. “What, you’re moving in with them?”

  She shook her head. Her cellphone buzzed in her pocket again and ideas fitted together quickly. “It was a great time, Andy. The best. But my ex-boyfriend is stalking me and…I need somewhere to hole up for a few days, where he wouldn’t think to look for me. Do you think…would you mind if I camped at your place until I sort it all out?”

  Andy’s expression grew indignant and then angry. He reached out as if he were going to take her arm, then dropped his hand shyly. “Damn right you can,” he said. “As long as you don’t mind the sofa? It’s kin
da lumpy.”

  “It’ll be just heaven, I’m sure,” she told him.

  He waved her toward his apartment. “C’mon. The others are out. I can make coffee and you can tell me about the band.”

  “I’ll do my best, Andy,” she promised, prepared to lie her head off to not let him down if she had to.

  * * * * *

  By day three, Taylor knew that her own mother would have trouble picking her out of a death metal mob. She had borrowed clothes and accessories from Andy, Graham and Jesus, and jewelry and makeup from Amber, along with application tips, and with careful mixing of her own clothes, she looked almost indistinguishable from Andy’s roommates. She washed her hair and let it dry naturally, so the curl and bounce came back with a vengeance. It was naturally black already, so she didn’t have to dye it.

  With an over-application of dark make-up and excessive silver jewelry, a studded belt, ripped tee-shirts, and a sleeveless denim jacket over skinny black jeans, she felt sure that she could walk past Jeoffery and maybe ask him the time and he would never recognize her.

  Hopefully, if the queen and her people were looking for her, they would fail to recognize her, too.

  Suitably disguised, Taylor felt comfortable going out for supplies and food, which she bought generously for the whole apartment, as her part of the rent.

  Graham sniffed when he saw the stocked fridge. “Moving in?” he asked her.

  “It’s a thank you,” she amended. “There’s beer in the mini fridge.”

  He grinned, straightening up and shutting the fridge door. “Now yer talkin’.”

  On the third day, she made a gumbo stew and invited everyone to sit down at the battered hexagonal metal table that served as a dining table of sorts, and have dinner.

  “Is Creole. Fancy. My thanks, benita,” Jesus declared and wolfed down big mouthfuls of the gumbo with his spoon clamped in his fist, his studded wrist bands clinking against the side of the bowl in little musical taps.

  “Is this another thank you?” Amber asked, sniffing at her spoonful.

  “Sort of,” Taylor told them. “It’s also a farewell. I’m going to move back into my apartment tomorrow. I think it’s safe now. It’s been three days and there’s been no sign.”

  Andy put down his spoon. “You can’t,” he said flatly. “He could be sitting and waiting for you to turn up. You move back, and he’ll show up, sure as shit.”

  Taylor gave him a smile she hoped was reassuring. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay. I’m going to make a couple of calls to people first and give them a heads-up. I’m not going to just move back in blind.”

  “I figured you’d be here for days yet,” Graham said, washing back a mouthful of gumbo with a mouthful of beer.

  “Aren’t you glad I’m not?” she returned, with another smile.

  He shrugged. “Got used to you. You can stay if you want.”

  There was a stunned little silence around the table.

  Graham looked around at them all. “She’s being beat up by her professor prick boyfriend, ain’t she?”

  Taylor winced. “He wasn’t beating me,” she said.

  “Whatever. He was giving you a hard time, the asshole,” Graham replied.

  Taylor cleared her throat. Guilt for the lie she had spun to hide away in their apartment lay heavy on her. Jeoffery’s text messages had grown increasingly more desperate, worried and concerned until they had stopped, yesterday. He had given up. Had he called the police? Filed her as a missing person? Meanwhile, she had maligned him as a stalker boyfriend.

  But he had fired her to save his ass.

  She gave Graham a small smile. “Jeoffery is not a nice person,” she said truthfully.

  “Then you should stick around,” Graham said firmly.

  “I can’t. I have to get my life back in order. I have to find another job, at the very least.”

  Andy put his spoon down. “Where did you go last night, Gray?” he asked quietly.

  Graham snorted. “What’d’you care?”

  Andy sat back and crossed his arms. “You had a hangover this morning. A whiskey hangover. The bathroom stunk like a Johnny Walker factory. So where were you?”

  “None of your fuckin’ business,” Graham growled and began eating, his eyes on his bowl.

  “You’ve been late on rent for three months, bro,” Jesus added, just as softly.

  “Is that a new belt? A leather belt? You couldn’t hardly hold up your jeans yesterday. You was using duct tape round the buckle,” Andy said.

  Graham shoveled in another mouthful of shrimp and rice. “So?” He shrugged.

  Taylor could feel the tension around the table, but she didn’t understand why. Not yet.

  Andy’s generous, open face was closed and hard as he stared at Graham. “Where did you get the money, Gray?”

  “Yeah, Gray?” Jesus echoed, putting his spoon down. “And why you so insistent the benita stay?”

  “He sold some stuff, okay?” Amber said, looking around the table. She gave a tight smile. “Some of the weed, for the cash.”

  “That is what he told you, but the stash has been under my bed for the three days Taylor has been here,” Andy said. His gaze didn’t leave Graham. “He got the money somewhere else and now he’s trying to make Taylor stay here.”

  Taylor stood up, feeling icy hot fingers running up and down her spine. “Who did you tell I was here?” she asked Graham. “Who wanted to know?”

  Graham finally met her eyes. He gave her a slow smile. “Who the fuck do you think I told? Your ever-lovin’ ex, Mr. Professor with the high-falutin’ job. He was ever so grateful I called. Very grateful.”

  She stared at him, trying to work it out. “You called him yesterday around noon? That’s when he stopped trying to reach me. You got his number from my cellphone.”

  “You should take your phone with you to the bathroom, lady,” Graham told her.

  “He gave you money for telling him where I was? That doesn’t make any sense at all,” Taylor said slowly. Jeoffery was concerned, yes, but bringing money into it made it seem like he had an agenda, which he didn’t.

  “The money was for me to make sure you stayed put,” Graham told her. “Which I intend to do.” He gave her another small smile. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere, lady. Not until they get here.”

  All the air seemed to leave her chest in one hard exhalation, as fear fizzled through her.

  “Who gets here?” she whispered.

  “I didn’t ask,” Graham told her. “Whoever your ex sends, I suppose.”

  Andy’s hand was on her arm. “You’d better sit. You’ve gone all pasty.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. I’ve got to go. Now.” She looked at him. “You should, too. Andy, I don’t know for sure who will be coming, but I have this horrible suspicion…I don’t even know how it is possible, but if I’m right, then the…people who will come for me…you don’t want to be here when they arrive.”

  Andy licked his lips. “Your ex was into some black shit, huh?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think he has any idea what he’s into. I think he’s being used. Just like Graham.”

  Graham snorted. “Sez you.”

  Andy scowled and stood up. “I always figured you was smart. Guess I was wrong.” He touched Taylor’s arm. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Graham slapped the table. “No one is going nowhere,” he repeated stoically.

  The door to the apartment busted open and at the same time, the big sliding glass door/window that gave access to the tiny strip balcony imploded inwards. The noise of the plate glass giving way was shockingly loud, and punctuated by Amber’s screams.

  As bodies clambered into the room from the window and pushed through the doorway, Jesus ducked under the table with a pithy Spanish oath, showing a better sense of self-preservation than anyone else in the room.

  Graham stood up to face the invaders with a smile on his face.

  They looked like ordinary men.
Tall, short, young, middle-aged, balding, fit and unfit. They wore no uniforms and carried no weapons, and that told Taylor immediately who they were.

  Vampires. The queen’s people. Only they would attempt a home invasion without weapons.

  She had been found.

  Amber was still screaming, and when the first of the invaders reached her, he calmly reached out and grabbed the girl’s neck and squeezed. There was a horrible sound of flesh and bone grinding together. Amber’s screamed cut off abruptly. He let her go and she dropped to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

  Graham’s eyes widened almost comically. “Hey…!” he began.

  The man, the vampire, whose eyes seemed almost tawny in the last of the sunset light coming through the window, turned to Graham. His top lip pulled back and he snarled. It was an inhuman sound. His two teeth, his canines, were extended.

  Graham gave out a helpless, choked, shocked sound. It was the last one he made, before the teeth clamped into the side of his neck and tore out his throat.

  Taylor caught Andy’s hand in hers. “Don’t resist. Don’t fight back,” she murmured. “Just stand here with me.”

  He was hyperventilating, but she saw him nod from the corner of her eye.

  “They’re here for me. Once they have me, they’ll leave and you will be safe, I think.”

  “Taylor…” Andy whispered. “I want to help.”

  “Tell who comes to find me what happened,” she whispered back.

  The tawny-eyed man’s hands gripped her shoulders and she was ripped from Andy’s grasp and pulled across the room. There was so much strength in the man she was barely able to touch her feet to the ground. There was no way to resist. She was borne across the room and out the door in seconds, and she felt a trickle of relief as the others who had been behind the tawny-eyed man turned and followed him out of the apartment.

  Andy was safe.

  Chapter Ten

  The Menzies Horowitz Theatre had been built in Victorian times, to match a grand vision of theatre at its finest, refined audiences, culture that would fill the auditorium and the coffers for a generation or more. Then came two world wars and a depression that diminished audiences beyond the point of return.