The Girl Who Bites (2 page)

Within seconds he had her bent over a box, her ass in his hands. She could feel him behind her, the breath already rasping from his throat, the sound of his zipper very loud. Then his cock was sliding between her legs as he jabbed and poked at her, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her ass, spreading her cheeks. One thumb slid against her asshole, making her jump.

“You little slut. You’re such a little whore, Amy. Aren’t you? You want my big cock, don’t you, little slut? You want me to fuck your cunt. Say you do…say it…”

“I do, Riley. I want you to fuck me, hard. Like only you can.” And she meant it. What might be role-play for him, if it was that, really did turn her on. She did want his cock, did want him fucking her hard…brutal and primal and painful. That’s exactly what she wanted.

“Bitch…I’ll show you. I’ll fuck you so hard…”

He thrust into her, pushing her forward on the box, her face pressed against the wall. His cock felt like it had been carved from stone, heated in a blast furnace, and then chiseled to a point.

And he knew what to do with that hard thing, slamming it over and over into her body, jarring her with each thrust. Tears sprang into her eyes, the force of him banging into her knocking the wind out of her in whistling grunts.

“You’ve been fucking someone else. I can tell…you’re slick with some other guy’s load. I can smell it on you…the sex you had. Hot and wet…you little slut. I can feel it on my cock, feel how wet you are…fucking someone else…” His words trailed off into an incoherent jumble of sounds and noises.

“Oh…fuck…Riley…Riley…” She knew he liked hearing his name, managing to gasp out the words between his thrusts.

“You slut…fucking whore…take my cock….all the way…” Each word was accompanied by a violent thrust, his thighs banging into her ass. He’d jammed his thumb…finger…fingers…into her asshole, sliding them in and out in time to his thrusts.

Amy felt her knees buckling, the sheer over-the-top violence of his body slamming against her sending her instantly to the edge of her orgasm. There was no holding back, nothing she could do but grip the edge of the box, her body convulsing beneath the onslaught of his cock and fingers, his hands the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor. And then her orgasm broke like a flash flood, sweeping everything out of its path.

When she screamed, Riley thrust himself so hard into her it drove her up on her toes. He held himself fully inside her, every muscle straining, even his breathing stopped.

Amy was pretty sure they could hear Riley in the bar; his cry was loud, primal…somewhere between a roar and a battle cry.

His cock was pulsing inside her, something that always brought a second wave of orgasmic pleasure surging through her, as he pumped his hips quickly, his hands now resting beside hers, his body almost pressing her into the crate.

There was no one else, not even Luke, whose cock she was so acutely aware of inside her, every nuance, every vein, every pump and thrust and twitch. She occasionally thought his cock had been made just for her body, the contours matching exactly. But she usually lost the train of that thought pretty quickly as Riley continued moving inside her, humping against her, grinding his hips against her ass.

Finally he pulled away and Amy slumped down on the crate. Before she had time to catch her breath though, he spun her around, picking her up and setting her up on the box.

This was the second thing she’d learned about Riley. He enjoyed eating her out after he came inside her. It never failed, he was always there, ready to lap up everything he’d left behind.

Riley pulled her sharply toward the edge of the box and she leaned back, resting on her elbows, spreading her legs. This part was pure heaven, although sometimes she was so raw it was almost painful as he lapped and sucked at her.

But tonight, it was going to be perfect, just what she loved about her post-fucking session with Riley, with his little eccentricity. If he caught her just at the right moment, as she was still riding the last waves of her orgasm, he’d trigger a whole fresh set of sensations.

And tonight he did. His tongue brushed against her clit, sending a little shock wave through Amy’s body. Her hips shuddered, her legs twitched…and then he drove his tongue deep inside her, seeking whatever it was he wanted to find there. She really didn’t care; that tongue did magic things to her, sent her quaking and shivering into another wave of pleasure.

Clutching one tit, pulling at her own nipple, she threw her head back, grunting as she came again and again, as Riley’s diligent efforts to apparently remove all traces of his own come sent her on that giddy rollercoaster ride of ecstasy.

He finally stood up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, looking down at her, his expression unreadable. She never knew where the Riley who sat at the bar went, but he sure wasn’t the guy with her in the storeroom.

For many reasons, Amy had never bitten Riley. For one thing, he never hugged her, never faced her, so easy access was out of the question. Plus he was wicked fast, spinning her around or picking her up. She could have easily outmaneuvered him, but she really didn’t want to force the issue, not with Riley.

But most of all, she just didn’t want to add another dimension to his strange life. And the sex from him was enough to cut him that little bit of slack.

The routine after that was the same; he’d silently leave first, head to the men’s. Amy would try her damndest to recover, but she usually returned to the bar with shaky knees and trembling hands. It occurred to her at times like this, for a vampire, she certainly wasn’t all that dominant during sex.

She remembered back over the centuries, to her encounters with vampires, those whom she’d taken into her bed. The sex had been so powerful, so long-lasting, so utterly fucking amazing…but she’d been an equal with them in many ways, feeding from them as they fed from her, both in blood and in pleasure. She’d used her strength and speed with them, and the result had always been incredible.

Here, she’d learned to be what was expected of a mortal woman; a little less controlling, not so dominant. No demonstrations of vampiric strength or speed. It made her smile to wonder what Riley…or Luke…would do if she suddenly came out as a vampire during sex, took them for the ride of their lives. She’d probably leave them a wrung-out wreck if she went all out with them.

Shaking her head, she went back to the bar. If she didn’t exert some kind of control over herself, the men in the town would all be dead by now, and not from her having drunk their blood. They would all have died in her bed, no doubt with a huge smile on their face, completely unable to survive the totally unreserved vampire Amy could be.

Pete was talking with the few customers clustered at the other end of the bar. Riley came back, finished his drink and ducked his head shyly at her as he headed out into the dark.

Amy stood by the window, watching him walk down the dark street, out of the circle of light cast by the only streetlight in town. Other than Riley, the street was quiet, like always.

She was just turning when she saw movement across the street, a darker shadow among shadows. Frowning, she tried to make out what it was, but even with her excellent night vision, she couldn’t see anything.

Shrugging she turned back to the bar. She missed Luke, wondered if he was home, sleeping with his wife, if they’d had sex. It didn’t do her any good to think like this, she reminded herself. It just made her sad.

The next couple days dragged without the prospect of seeing Luke. Amy was distant with Pete taking one guy to the backroom for sex and a bite. He was a commercial businessman, someone passing through town. That alone made him a novelty; no one came through Harker Hill accidentally. Turned out he’d been lost, gotten off on the wrong exit from the Interstate. But after his session in the backroom with Amy, she thought he was a little less upset about his unexpected detour.

But after he left, she could barely remember anything about him, much less the sex. She’d drunk heavily from him though. She thought it was akin to a mortal drowning their sorrows in booze; she was drowning her longing for Luke in someone else’s blood.

It was almost closing time when she saw the shadow figure again. She’d taken the trash out the back door, pausing to look up at the stars. Movement at the corner of her vision caught her attention and she turned, just catching sight of what looked like the figure of a man ducking into the shadows of the building next door.

She thought for a moment it was Riley, lurking outside for some reason. Odd behavior from him would be, well, odd, but no unexpected.

“Riley? That you? Come on out if it is…” She heard her voice echoing in the darkness.

“Riley’s sitting in his usual spot.” Pete was behind her, standing in the light from the open doorway.

“Oh…yeah.”

“Something wrong, Boss?
You seeing ghosts or something?” He barked out a laugh.

“Yeah…maybe.
Thought I saw something behind Barnard’s store.”

“Probably a coyote or dog…”

“Yeah…sure. Dog.” Amy didn’t think many dogs walked on two legs and were over six feet tall, but she let it pass.

“Well, enough fun for tonight. You want to head home, Pete, you can. There’s not enough here for the two of us to do.
Riley’s probably on his way out the door any minute.”

Pete nodded, turning back into the bar. She walked slowly out into the desert, which started pretty much at the back door of the bar.

“Come out, come out, whoever you are,” she whispered into the darkness. “Show yourself.”

***

The next night Amy was crouched behind the bar, fiddling with the temperamental cooler when she heard the door open. Too soon for Pete; he’d called to say he was running late. It wasn’t quite opening time either, just dark outside, but still early.

Her heart gave a thump, Luke flashing through her mind. She knew it was too early by a day or so, but maybe…

When she stood, it wasn’t Luke on the other side of the bar though. It was a tall stranger, wearing a battered leather jacket, faded jeans and a shirt open at the collar, carrying a faded canvas backpack.

Amy felt the eager grin fade from her face, replaced by what she hoped was a welcoming smile that covered her disappointment.

“Sorry I’m not who you expected.” The stranger took a step forward, setting the backpack on the counter. 

Amy felt his eyes traveling over her body and for the first time in ages, literally, she felt uncomfortable, like she wanted to cross her arms over her breasts.

“Um…yeah. Thought you were someone else. Sorry. Can I get you something to drink?” She forced herself to put her hands on the bar, to keep from crossing them over her chest.

“Water, for now.”
His eyes were locked with hers and something wild stirred in the pit of her stomach. Vaguely familiar but disconcerting.

She cocked her head, a long-dead and distant image flashing through her mind.

“Do I know you?”

The stranger smiled, a wicked little grin turning up one corner of his mouth.

“Not sure. Do you?” He pulled out a barstool, sliding gracefully onto it.

“Are we playing twenty questions?”

The man laughed, a deep rich sound. Amy felt her own lips curving into a smile, despite trying to fight it back.

“You don’t know me. But I know you, Amy.” He leaned his elbows on the bar, his smile deepening.

“You do? How?” Amy could hear the panic in her voice; if he was a hunter, her little gig here was up. She’d be sporting a stake through her newest blouse. He was evasive, cagey, smelled fantastic…
Wait.
Why do I care what he smells like?

“Not so fast…I’m not giving in that easy. You’ll have to earn the answer.”

“Earn? What the hell…” Amy’s anger flared, her voice rising.

“You need help, Amy?” Riley was standing behind the stranger, his face creased with a frown. Amy hadn’t seen him come in, she rarely did. He just seemed to materialize.

“No, we’re fine here.” The stranger flashed a look at Riley.

“I think I’m the one to decide if we’re fine. And I’m not so sure we are…”

But Riley was no longer standing behind the stranger. He was lying on the floor, a trickle of blood running from his nose.

“What the hell have you done?” Amy ran from behind the bar, kneeling beside Riley, feeling for his pulse, not finding one. She was momentarily distracted by the blood on his face.

But now, she was upset and when she was upset, she got hungry, and he was there, bleeding…she ran her finger through the blood, licking the precious liquid from her finger. It made her briefly swoon.

She realized the stranger was standing behind her, leaning over her shoulder and watching her. She straightened, swinging her fist with all her might at his head.

But she connected with nothing but thin air, almost falling down from the effort. She felt the stranger’s arms around her body, holding her up.

For the briefest moment she was crushed against his chest, all heaving breasts and parted lips. And in that moment, her body went electric, an erotic current running through her like it never had. She blinked as a wave
of dizziness passed through her and then shook her head.
Get a grip, Amy. There’s a dead guy on the floor here.