Page 40 of Soulmates
“Do you, like, hang out there?” I can’t imagine him tied up or chained to the wall or anything. No, if anything, Trajan’s the guy behind the whip. This doesn’t bother me at all. “Do you have one of those leather harness things?” I squirm, trying to find an angle for my dick that doesn’t hurt,
He’s silent for long enough that I figure he’s not going to answer. We pull to a stop at a red light, and I decipher the signs out in front of a strip mall on the corner—or at least identify the language they’re written in.
“Yes.”
I jerk my attention back to the vampire. “You have a harness?”
“Yes, I’ve been to the club before. I own it.” We move off in the flow of traffic. “Mostly I let the managers run things, but Sheena is a dominatrix, and she invites me when she has a sub who would benefit from my skills.”
Whoa.I have no idea what that means, exactly, but I’ve never been more turned on in my life. “You do have special skills.” Wait a minute.He won’t feed from me, but he’ll bite some trussed-up pigeon?Irritation kills my hard-on faster than a bucket of ice water.
“It’s not what you’re thinking.” He brushes my chin with his knuckles.
So he’s psychic now, too. “Sure.”
His chuckle makes me even angrier.
“When she has a client who would benefit from exploring…other facets of his sexuality, she’ll sometimes call me.”
“For your magic cock?”
He laughs, and his hand lands heavily on my thigh. “You like my cock well enough.”
My snotty response is lost when he gives my dick a squeeze. I grab his wrist but can’t pull his hand away.
“Now, puppy”—he rubs hard—“the bartender hasn’t seen Sheena since the staff meeting this afternoon, but said she was meeting someone at Fashion. We’ll retrace her steps as far as we can and see what we see.”
Made sense. Sheena supposedly has information about Connor and isn’t the type to pull a no-show. Besides, Fashion’s one of the clubs on my spring break wish list. I’d heard it was three levels with multiple dance floors, lots of secret corners, and an open policy. Gay, straight, human, supe; everyone went to Fashion. I wasn’t dressed right, but at least I could check it off the list. And I wouldn’t need to find a date while I was there, because I’d be going home with a vampire.
“From what the guy at the club said, Sheena might have been meeting Connor.” Trajan still caresses my crotch, but his expression has gone distant.
“That’s convenient.”
“Isn’t it?” He moves his hand closer to my knee. “There are a couple of vampires working security at Fashion. You can go dance while I talk to them.”
More foreplay. At this rate, I’d shoot like a thirteen-year-old as soon as he gives me permission.Permission. Yeah, my experience in the land of kink is limited, but this works.
Fashion is just as glittery and shallow as the name implies. I’m absolutely going to have to come back sometime when I’m dressed to play. As it is, Trajan waves me over to the first dance floor we pass, and I dive on in. The beat is heavy, tribal, and the crowd is thick. For asecond, I try to remember what day of the week it is, but it doesn’t matter. At a place like this, every night’s a party.
Bodies close around me, and the air is slick and sweaty. I’m not catching anyone’s eye, but they’re bumping me, brushing against me. Time slows down or speeds up. I can’t quite tell. Someone’s wearing spicy cologne. A girl dressed in ’50s drag backs into me, her ass firm in her dark blue dungarees.
I let it all go, the fear, the exhaustion, the Uncle-Brendan-wants-me-gone. I know my pulse and the beat and the scents of human and were and elf. Just one big throbbing ball of life, with me at the center of it.
A body moves in behind me. A Trajan-sized body. Hands wrap around my waist, big, strong, and masculine. My eyes are shut, and if I don’t smell vampire, it must be because there’s too much competition.
My head tips back, resting on the vampire’s shoulder. He must have found what he needed faster than either of us expected. Good. Time to fuck or be fucked.
Ready to drag him down for a kiss, I pivot and reach for his face. Shock destroys the mood. It’s not Trajan. My hands close on air.
“Hello, David.”
The guy from the cabin pulls me against his body. The one who called Trajanmo shioghrá.
Soul mate.
Connor.
Chapter Fourteen
