Fangs for Nothing (The Fangover 2)

“Inappropriate?” he asked, pulling a pair out of his drawer for himself. He bent over and stepped into them. Of course, the motion caused her to have to bend over, too, putting her face in very close proximity to his cock.

This had potential.

“I know precisely what you are thinking.”

“Yeah?” Good, then he wouldn’t even have to ask or suggest.

“It is not going to happen.”

Damn. “You’re sure? Because I would return the favor.”

“No. That is not something I have ever done.”

Was she kidding? She’d never blown a guy? Wow. “Because you think it’s gross or because it’s just never happened?”

He wasn’t sure how anyone could go several hundred years and never at least have the option of sucking c**k presented to her, but then again, they didn’t move in the same circles. Maybe Paris was dead these days. His unintended pun made him want to grin, but he controlled himself and just stood in his underwear waiting for her response.

“I have limited experience with men, as I mentioned. Jean-Baptiste, he considered that particular action reserved for a mistress, not a lady.”

Jean-Baptiste sounded like a pretentious prick. “So wait a minute, you’re telling me he’d let a prostitute blow him, but not you? That he wasn’t even faithful to you?”

She swallowed visibly. Her words were defensive, but her tone was soft, maybe even sad. “Yes. But that was the way of our world. I never expected him to be satisfied with me alone.”

That was f**ked-up. “But let me guess . . . you were expected to be faithful to him.”

“Of course.” She looked like that was a ludicrous question. “I never wanted to be with another man. I was in love with him.”

Johnny wanted to ask why, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t know the guy, and she was right, times had been different. So he concentrated on what that meant. “So you never have, but have you ever wanted to?”

“Certainly. It has crossed my mind on more than one occasion that I would like to have the experience. I would like to know if I am capable of creating that sort of a response from a man.”

She had never given o**l s*x to any other man, yet she was open to the idea. That was the hottest thing he’d ever heard in his entire life. He could be the first man she put her mouth around and sucked to oblivion. An erection sprang to life, and he wondered if there was a casual way to ask to her to reconsider dropping to her knees.

“When I am ready, I will let you know,” she said.

For some reason, that did something really weird to the interior of his chest cavity. Johnny brushed her hair back off her cheek and looked into her deep brown eyes. “I really like you, Lizette.” It was a completely cornball, lame-ass thing to say, but it was how he felt.

She smiled. “That’s not going to make me change my mind.”

The ironic thing was, for once he didn’t have an angle, nor was he joking around. He didn’t even bother to explain that to her. He just found himself saying earnestly, “I wish you didn’t have to go back to France. I wish we had more time to spend together.”

The smile fell off her face and she tilted her head, studying him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I want more time to get to know you, both in bed and out. I don’t want you to leave yet.” He took her hand and held it a little more aggressively than romantically. But he had a point to make.

Her expression softened. “I don’t think that I want to leave yet either.”

“Then maybe it’s a good thing you canceled your flight.” He kissed the corner of her mouth because it looked delectable. She looked delectable.

“Perhaps it is.” She sighed. “But I only have a room at the hotel through tomorrow.”

“You can stay with me,” he said, because he was crazy. Crazy about her and just plain crazy. Because never once, in his entire life, had he offered for a woman to stay with him. Not even his sister.

So the fact that he had just suggested to Lizette that she shack up with him for an undetermined amount of time meant that he had completely lost it. Her body had numbed his brain. There was no other explanation.

Of course, there was another explanation, but he refused to consider it.

Which was why he suddenly found himself hustling her out of the bedroom after he yanked on his jeans and grabbed a clean shirt to take with him. “You know, I just had a thought. There is a metal shop down on Rampart. I bet they can cut us out of these cuffs. Your skin is starting to chafe.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, we have to get out of them sooner or later.” He handed her a pair of basketball shorts from his dresser to wear.

“What is this?”

“Shorts for you. Unless you want to put your skirt back on. But the shorts might help with your concern over a lack of panties.”

“Oh, that is true.” She sat down and pulled them on. “Thank you, that is very sweet of you.”

Feeling like he couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, Johnny led her through the apartment and out the front door, feeling much better when the sultry night air hit his skin.

And since they were passing the bar with a vampire bartender on the way back to his place, he decided he needed a drink. Bad. Like a big gigantic drink that would make him forget that for a split second, he had felt pleased that Lizette had canceled her plane ticket and ordered lingerie sent to his apartment. He wanted to obliterate the idea that he might actually be happy living with a woman from here to forever. With Lizette. That she was the woman.

Holy crap.

Johnny yanked the door open to Fahy’s and held it open for Lizette, anxiety crawling up and scratching him on the balls. “Do you mind if we stop for a second?” he asked, even though he’d already pulled open the door. If she said no, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but it wasn’t going to be pretty.

He had just freaked himself the f**k out.

And Lizette was going to be staying with him.

Chapter Twelve

IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK

(Thankfully the Bouncer Can)

DRAKE knew exactly what Josie Lynn was referring to, but maybe it was the residual effects of the drugs, or that fact that she was standing only inches away from him and he really, really dug how she looked in his shirt, but his brain just didn’t seem to be working.

“Our kind?”

Josie Lynn nodded. “Yeah, she said, ‘our kind must stick together.’”