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  Wanting everything meant making him her fully marked human servant, and she'd not yet taken that step with any human. Female vampires were choosier, usually taking that step as they drew closer to the century mark, whereas male vampires might do it before hitting fifty. But looking at him, restrained by his belt and their mutual desires, she felt a clenching in her lower belly that was part sex, part need, part longing.

  God, Selene. Shut up and fuck him already.

  She hadn't answered his question, too busy wrestling with her own, but now she summoned a smile. "If you close your eyes, you'll find out if you're willing to give me everything I want."

  He sighed, hard, but shut his eyes, probably not realizing his fingers clenched as he did it, a quiver running through all those impressive muscles. His cock just got thicker, standing up tall and eager. She removed the shirt, shimmied out of boots and jeans, leaving on the dark-blue silky bra and matching lace panties. Then she leaned over him, sliding a hand over his biceps on the far side, pressing her breasts to his chest. She blew on his lashes, making him frown and then smile.

  "You want to give me everything I want, Quinn, but you think you need to fight about it. I like a fight, for the right reasons. This is not that moment. Let yourself feel. Let me enjoy you."

  She straddled him then, and he groaned as she rubbed her lace-clad pussy, the crotch already soaked through, against the length of his cock. Reaching behind her, she cupped his ball sac, a nice weight in her hand, as she rotated her hips on him. "Feel how wet I am?"

  "Yeah. Fuck yes. Want your panties off. Want to feel your cunt."

  "Then ask me for that. Nicely. Remember 'please'?"

  "Please."

  "Please what?"

  "I want to feel your cunt against my cock. Please."

  "Very nice." She stood up, removed her bra and dropped it on the floor. Then she shimmied out of the panties. When she sat back down upon him, she draped them over his face, pushing the crotch against his lips. "Taste, Quinn."

  He licked, then his lips closed over the fabric, giving it a gentle suck. She took her hand away, leaving the sheer garment spread over his face like a veil. His nostrils flared beneath thin lace.

  "That's all for you, Quinn. When you had Artie shoved against the wall, and I reached out and touched you, I wanted your cock right then. I wanted us to fuck right up against that worthless piece of shit like he didn't matter at all."

  She also wanted to rip into Artie's throat, make him howl in pain and gush blood for stealing from Quinn, for feeling like he had a right to take advantage of her cowboy. But she'd save that vicious tidbit. The sex side of being a vampire was overwhelming enough to humans.

  "God..." His hips twitched, pressing his cock up against her labia.

  "Easy there, bronc," she said breathlessly, tightening her thighs on him. "Keep it in the chute right now."

  She reached between them, gripped him. Yeah, he was thick as a tree branch, and when she squeezed and stroked, his thigh and biceps muscles bunched, body straining to stay still. She let him go, stroked her pussy along his length, working him with the moisture between her slick lips as she leaned down and began to taste his chest, his nipples, his shoulders, moving back toward his throat. His fingers stayed clenched around the headboard. He was fighting the restraint, but the arousal was also intensifying because of it.

  As she reached the carotid, her fangs lengthened, not to be denied this time. So hungry. She turned her head, lifted it enough to see his eyes open beneath the lace, staring at her through that hazy barrier. His lips parted, seeking air, seeking her. She rose up over him, let him see her body arch as she gripped him once more, guided him into her, controlling the pace, the descent.

  "Condom..." He had the presence of mind to protect them both, but she shook her head.

  "Not needed, cowboy. Promise. That's the one way you're totally safe with me."

  Maybe the only way.

  She was sure he wasn't naive enough to let that pass, not normally, but this wasn't normal. That was obvious from how she could feel his passion unfolding beneath her, reckless, uncertain, wild. It was what she'd meant when she'd said if he ever unleashed it for the right woman, his response would overwhelm them both in a way he wouldn't anticipate.

  But he wasn't the only one taken unawares by that. As she descended, inch by inch, feeling his cock stretch her, slide in deep, her eyes were caught by his behind that barrier. She should tell him to close his eyes again, but it was as if that lock held them over a chasm. Neither one looking away, knowing to do so would be to fall. The worst part wouldn't be the tumble, but falling alone.

  "Free yourself," she whispered.

  It took him a couple minutes. He twisted his hands in his bonds, pushed and pulled, strained, while she rode him like she might a cantering horse, enjoying the unexpected thrusts, slides and angles of his cock inside her. He was a good-sized man, filling her in a way that had her pussy spasming, clutching him hard. When he finally got one hand free, that took care of the other. He surged up from the bed, banding his arms around her to drive her down hard and snug on his loins, ripping a cry from her. She bowed back in his hold, gasping as his lips clamped over her right nipple. Gripping his hair, she worked her hips on him in a circular rhythm as he sucked, drawing deep.

  "So fucking good," he muttered. "Want to taste your cunt. Taste all of you."

  He thrust with the skill of a man who knew how to bring a woman's body to pleasure, and the first orgasm took her fast and quick. Her clit swelled and hardened, pussy gushing over him. She cried out again, digging her nails into his back. It had been too long since she'd gone this route to feed and she didn't know her own strength. She raked hard enough to draw four furrows of blood.

  Blood. The scent filled her nose, and she brought her fingers to her lips, tasting what she'd taken from him. He flipped them then, all effortless strength. She was always an on-top girl, so it surprised her how much she welcomed the feel of him on her like this. She gazed up at him as he pressed her into the quilt, kept thrusting, giving her searing aftershocks that had her moaning, holding onto him, taking full pleasure in the ride. Since she stared into his face as he stared into hers, she saw that rigid state that took over right before climax, knew when his body was gathering. She reared up, slid her arms around him. When he thought he couldn't hold out any longer, she spoke against his ear.

  "Hold out for me, Quinn. Not until I say. Ssshh, cowboy. Hold..."

  He groaned against her temple, kept thrusting, but she felt his body taut as a bowstring, obeying her. It was a drug all its own, none like it.

  "Come for me, Quinn," she commanded at last. Then she bit him.

  She could release a rush of pheromones with her bite, and she did so now, propelling his orgasm to a much higher intensity, though if his was anything like hers, it was already more intense than expected. His blood flooded her mouth, and she'd never tasted a man who was so every-kind-of-taste she wanted. Bittersweet chocolate, just like the color of his eyes. Leather and sweat, open prairie, the heat of a horse's flanks, sunsets over open land, the terrain she'd driven in darkness since she entered Texas. All of it was in him.

  Oh God, she was so hungry. She really had waited too long to feed. A couple of his more thoughtful looks in the bar had suggested he'd picked up on some sense of vulnerability in her, and maybe it was the weakness that came with hunger. That wasn't acceptable in normal circumstances, but all she could think of right now was that he would nourish her, help restore her in so many ways.

  She knew how much to drink without endangering him. He'd be a little lethargic tomorrow, but he'd be fine, no worse than an aggressive blood donation. If she gave him the first mark, she could figure out where he was, imagine what he was doing...

  It was good she was on the downhill side of her climax when she had that thought, because the shock of it might have stopped her mid-peak. She'd never been tempted to give a man any one of the three marks that were the steps toward making a human a va
mpire's full servant. She was too young, right? Or maybe it was because she'd been dealing with too much shit from Laurent to have time to focus on it.

  Quinn might just be wrong time, wrong place. But it didn't feel that way.

  The geographical locater, the first mark, wouldn't be too bad. She'd always know where he was, would be able to tell when he was coming to the bar. Of course she'd scented him over a room full of people, so that was a weak justification.

  Nevertheless, she did it, releasing the serum as she drank. It tingled through his blood in a way that made him shudder once more, but it also had the least side effects of any of them. It was okay to know where he was. She wanted to know where he was. Always, even when she had to leave him behind as a fond memory. Part of her history.

  He groaned out the last of his release, her holding him close. She didn't want to let him go, and he gave a half chuckle against her temple when he tried to shift off her and she merely tightened her grip.

  "I'm too heavy."

  He wasn't. He was like the shelter in a storm, his heat, his scent, the steady thump of his heart. What was wrong with her? He couldn't protect her. No one could.

  "Hey." His hand slid up to cup her skull, to hold her face pressed to his throat and shoulder as she held him even tighter. "You're shaking, honey. You okay?"

  "Yeah." She cleared her throat, forced herself to smile before she laid her head back on the pillow. "You're right. You're heavy. Get off."

  He gave her a searching look even as he smiled and slid to the side. When he gathered her up against him, it was no hardship to drape over his chest, put her cheek down over that reassuring heartbeat, feel his fingertips stroke through her hair, down her bare back.

  She threaded her fingers through his light mat of chest hair, followed the arrow of it to his ridged abdomen, stroked his hip bone and studied his cock, now replete but so obviously capable of giving a woman pleasure. He turned his head, pressed his lips and nose into her hair. It was an intimate position, one that unfurled things inside her. Unexpected things.

  "Selene." He paused, and she liked how her name sounded on his lips. "Who are you hiding from?"

  She propped herself up on an elbow. He gave her a searching look, reached up to slide a finger along her cheek, her jaw. In return, she settled her fingers on the bite mark on his neck. She knew he hadn't really registered it too much. The euphoria the released pheromones caused could do that, but now he put his hand there as well. She moved her hand so he could touch the bites, but put her fingers back over his and pressed down, let him feel those two punctures, understand they were a bit more extreme than the usual love bite.

  "No one who is part of your world, Quinn." If she did everything the way she should, that world would never be part of his. Yeah, she'd given him the geographical locater mark, but that was a minor infraction, not a big deal. It actually protected him a little bit.

  "So you're really strong. You don't like daylight. And..."

  She saw his fingers slide across his throat again. He wouldn't say it aloud, but she could hear him thinking it. She'd drunk his blood.

  "Yes, I'm a vampire."

  He wouldn't believe her. That was the point. The powerful vampires on the top of the food chain who called the shots for all of them mostly lived in their mansions, cloaked in a veil of mystery. As such, they could harp all they wanted about never breathing a word about being a vampire to the human world and make that work.

  In contrast, she was an average-income working girl with fangs and no permanent home. So in the twenty-first century, full of zealots and freaks in the news, she'd found the opposite tactic worked. Instead of hiding all the obvious vampire peculiarities, she put them out in the open, claimed she was a vampire, and people just shrugged and expected she was an escapee from the Discovery Channel Taboo series. It was the best century ever for a non-human to blend.

  That strategy worked best when she worked and stayed in large cities, which Nightfall was decidedly not. But Quinn had seemed desperate enough to be worth the risk. If she proved she could run his bar and give him a good time in bed, he'd probably roll with it for a while. Guys tended to accept a crazy chick if the sex was worth it. And if she didn't cause him any hassles with running After Dark.

  "A vampire, hmm?" He had that measuring look in his eye, already weighing her potential crazy-chick factor against Artie's many shortcomings. After her performance this evening, she expected she still had Artie by a mile.

  "Yeah, but if you don't mind, I'd ask that you keep that information to yourself. And not just so people won't think your new bar manager is a freak."

  As he mulled that, Selene watched him with a frown. The way he was processing the information seemed different from most humans. Almost as if it wasn't his first encounter with something otherworldly, something more significant than the typical everyone-has-a-ghost-story-to-tell imaginings.

  There was no scent of magic on him, yet the look in his eyes, while not total acceptance, was...wait and see. She didn't know if that made things more or less dangerous for her here.

  Though she was curious, she couldn't grill him on it right now. The timing wasn't right and this might not work out at all. She could be back on the road tomorrow, for all she knew.

  Turning on his side, he touched the pendant lying on her breast bone. "Odd necklace for a vampire. Looks like a dagger through a heart." His gaze flicked up to her. "Or a stake."

  "It's a reminder that none of us are as invincible as we think we are."

  "Hmm. What if you can't trust me? What if I tell the local paper? Call Van Helsing?"

  "If he looks like Hugh Jackman, go right ahead. But technically, I'm supposed to kill you if you tell anyone. I'd prefer not to do that. I need the job."

  She lay back down in his arms, nestled her head under his chin. Once he went home, got up in the morning to do his normal ranch day, he'd probably rethink hiring a woman who acted like a vampire, who'd drunk his blood.

  But that was later. For now, she'd lie here and imagine that maybe, for at least a little while, she'd found a place to be. Planting a distracting suggestion might help. Not that she needed a reason. She'd much rather play sensual games with him than talk about things that sent off alarm bells in his world.

  "Quinn?" She whispered it against his ear, pleased at the strength of the arm that tightened around her, the heat of his body, the sleepy male grunt of acknowledgement. "Do you own a whip? Chaps?"

  She actually felt him go more still, and hid a smile in his shoulder.

  "Yeah."

  "Next time you come to me, I want you to bring them." She drew back, put a finger on his lips before he could ask. "I'm not going to tell you why. Your job is just to obey. Understand, cowboy?"

  He tilted his head down to look at her, those brown eyes that were so deliciously conflicted, the firm mouth she wanted to spend a lot more time tasting...and make taste her. Thinking of curling her hand in that thick hair, pushing his lips against her pussy, she shivered with pleasure. He felt it, his eyes darkening. She'd ride him again tonight. Maybe a couple more times.

  Cowboys had stamina, after all.

  "Yes ma'am," he drawled, with a glint in his eye.

  Chapter Four

  "Don't move, cowboy."

  How could a voice like a whisper over the skin be so dominating at the same time? It held him in place on his knees, hands behind his back, even as he craved to reach out and touch the creamiest skin he had ever seen. Quinn gritted his teeth, chafing at the tone of command even as his body responded to it. His cock throbbed with urgent need and his mouth watered to taste again every inch of the petite woman standing before him.

  "Do you want to lick my cunt?"

  "Yes." He ground out the word. He wanted to lap her incredible essence more than he wanted his next breath. What stunned him was the desire--no, need--to wait for her to give him permission. As if his body was chained with invisible restraints that could only be released by a word from her. A nod. Perhaps
even a touch.

  Her tongue slid over her plump lips before they curved into a knowing smile.

  "No touching me except with your tongue."

  He tightened his fists at the small of his back until his nails dug into his skin. Shockingly, the pain sent lust spiraling through him and the throbbing in his cock increased.

  "Well?" she prompted.

  "You're tough."

  "Oh cowboy." Her eyes glinted with hunger. "You have no idea."

  While his brain couldn't reconcile the ethereal vision before him with her whipstrike authority, his body was having no trouble telling him to get right on with it before he imploded. His pulse pounded in his veins as Selene moved forward until barely a sheet of paper would have fit between them. Widening her stance, she spread the lips of her pussy with slim fingers, presenting him with all that slick pink flesh.

  His tongue snaked from his mouth, the tip gliding down from the top of her slit. He paused briefly to circle her clit, stimulating the knot of flesh, then following the path back up to the top. Her sigh of pleasure spurred him on, and he did it again. And again. And--

  Quinn woke. He'd neglected to close the blinds last night and the morning sun poured over him, burning his eyes. The quilt was crumpled at the foot of the bed and the sheet was draped haphazardly from his waist, his aching shaft tenting it enough to make room for an army.

  Shit. Holy shit.

  The dream had been so vivid that he thought it was real, leaving him looking around the room for Selene. But of course she wasn't there. She was sleeping, either in the dark cellar or in that little apartment above After Hours. Recharging her energy, she'd told him when she sent him on his way.

  In every relationship he'd been the one in control. The one to call the shots. To demand. Oh he always paid attention to his partner's needs, making sure she was completely satisfied. Tested and teased to find out the things that turned her on. Excited her. But it was his rodeo. He'd been in charge all his life, first with his competitions, then with the ranch, now with the bar.

  But last night Selene had taken command. When she wound his belt around his wrists, restraining him, he'd been harder than he ever remembered. When at last she permitted him to come--permitted!--his release nearly blasted the top of his head off.