Long Black Cadillac Page 8

  “My name’s Vance.” Somehow he knew it would make no difference.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I know that.” Remy nodded, offered him a half-grin. “I know.”

  Asshole. Vance took a deep drag. “How long you known Mr. Bitey-face in there?”

  “Ten years, maybe? He’s been real good to me. Keeps me out of trouble.”

  “You’re not worried I’ll take your job?”

  He got an incredulous look. “No, Boo. I ain’t worried ’bout that at all. I’m gonna go. I’ll bring back food.”

  Then Remy just went, hopping in the Caddy and heading off like this whole thing was normal. Ten years. Lord, Remy didn’t look that old, did he? Clay must have been robbing the cradle, huh? Vance wasn’t the cradle type at all, so he wondered if he was a departure for Clay, or if hanging out with a vamp did something to the aging process….

  “Honey, get your ass in here, will you? I can’t come get you.” Clay’s voice was rough as a cob. Oh, someone had woken up growly.

  “Bitch, bitch, bitch.” Vance tossed his butt, heading into the hotel room, the darkness feeling good on his eyes.

  Clay’s hands landed on him as soon as the door clicked shut. “Need you. So yeah, I’m bitchy.”

  “Your Cajun went to the store.” What that had to do with anything, he didn’t know. Fuck, Clay’s hands felt good.

  “Mmm-hmm. He likes to go. Do. Me, I’ll stay here with you….” That hot mouth traveled right across his cheek to his lips, tongue pushing into his mouth. He arched into Clay’s strength, rubbing against all that naked skin. Oh. Better. Much better. He fucking approved. “You got too many clothes on, honey. We’re gonna have to do something about that.” Clever fingers. That man had damned clever fingers. They got rid of his clothes in short order.

  “I was outside. I don’t do naked outside, man.” He was a big fucking fan of naked bloodsucker in the dark, though. Damn.

  “Why in the hell were you outside? I swear to God, I can feel the sun on your skin.” Pulling at him, Clay got him over to one of the beds, pushed him down to climb on top of him and straddle his hips.

  “I was….” He didn’t know why. Wasn’t it the thing to do? He wrapped his fingers around Clay’s cock, tugging good and hard.

  “Uhn.” That whole long body arched for him, muscles sliding under skin. God, the man was just built like a brick shithouse. And that flesh was hotter than you’d think. He couldn’t fucking get enough. Shit, there were going to be assholes hunting him, and he was lying here with Clay, hard and wanting, fucking hungry.

  “Stop thinking so loud.” Grinning, Clay bent and bit his shoulder, not hard enough to break the skin, but damn.

  “I’m….” Oh. Oh fuck. If Clay didn’t stay out of his head…. That felt fucking amazing.

  “Love the way you feel. Love the way you taste.” This time those teeth broke through, pulling his blood right up to the skin, making him shake.

  Vance bucked, hips pumping as his balls drew up tight. “Fuck. Fuck, that. I….”

  Shit, he couldn’t think.

  “No biting. Right?” That laugh went right to his cock, making it twitch. Clay bit him again, this time pulling strongly, right in time with his heartbeat. He had time to settle into it, body rocking with the pulls at his throat. Then Clay was tugging at his cock, trying to drag everything out of him. Daring him not to come. This sound came out of him—half-broken, half-so right it hurt—and his muscles went tight and hard, the whole fucking world stopping.

  Clay snarled, biting one last time, tearing him right up, but it felt so damned good he couldn’t even think to stop it. He shot so hard the top of his head felt like it was going to come right off, the dark room going almost black.

  “Uhn.” He barely heard Clay’s grunt, but he felt Clay shoot against his belly, felt the wetness spread between them under Clay’s stroking hand. It was all he could do to just reach up, wrap his hand around Clay’s ass, holding on.

  Clay slumped against him, leaning on him, hand stroking his side.

  “Hey.” He held on, nuzzling Clay’s throat, breathing deep.

  “You feeling better, honey? You were thinking too much.” He got a kiss that tasted like copper and salt, like hot sex and need.

  Thinking? Him? “You’re like a fucking drug.”

  “Hell, I hear that. You make me crazy, honey.” He could see that in Clay’s eyes when the man pulled back to look at him, the hint of confusion mixed with the heat.

  He had a thousand questions—how long had Clay been this way, how fucking old was the man, how often did he need to feed—but they didn’t manage to slip out, because he leaned up, just a little, and licked Clay’s lips.

  “Mmmm. More.” Looked like someone else was just as distracted with him, just as needy.

  “Uh-huh.” He fucked Clay’s lips with his tongue, pushing in and tasting. That mouth opened wide to him, letting him in, Clay pulling him even closer. If that was possible. He wrapped his hands around Clay’s head, tilting them both so he could take more, take what he needed.

  They rolled, Clay humping on him again. Already. They were like dry kindling in a lightning storm. He couldn’t fucking be hard again. No fucking way. He growled, biting Clay’s bottom lip hard enough to burn.

  “Gonna just eat you up.” Yeah, he’d heard that one before. Damn, but that big bastard could move.

  “Promises, promises.” He bit again, tugging hard enough that it had to ache.

  “Fuck! Jesus fuck, Vance.” Leaning down, Clay got a hold of his skin too, biting hard. Making him buck.

  “No. Biting.” He growled, bit, drawing blood this time, the flavor surprisingly sharp.

  “None. Not a bit.” Oh, someone liked that. Clay jerked against him, hips moving again like they still weren’t wearing come from the last time.

  “Fucker.” He dragged his fingers down along Clay’s spine, nails digging in.

  “Anytime you want it, honey. I promise. You get me hard like nobody else. Swear to God.” Clay left love marks all over. From his neck to his chest to his upper arm.

  “I want it.” He’d never fucking asked for it before.

  “Then you got me.” Sliding right down his body, Clay flipped him all the way on his back, lifting his hips. His cock got a sweet touch of lips and tongue, then his balls, before Clay was tonguing his hole. His eyes flew open, toes curling so tight his calf muscles threatened to charley-horse. He just…. Oh. Fucking A.

  “Mmmm.” That deep moan vibrated against him, sending him into orbit. Then Clay pushed in, opening him right up, and he thought his head might come off. He might have babbled; he wasn’t sure. He was terribly busy being driven into complete and total incoherence. That fool man kept at him until he was going to melt and run like molten lava. Then Clay surged up over him, cock prodding at his entrance. “You ready, honey? Say you’re ready.”

  “Ready. Please. Goddamn it. Fuck me.” Now. Deep and hard so he could feel it for days.

  “Now. Fuck yes, now.” That hard cock just pressed right into him, all the way, no stopping to give him time to adjust. The burn was sweet, settling right in the base of his spine and making him growl. He reached up, braced himself on the wall, hips rocking.

  “So fucking hot, Vance.” Well, at least he knew that Clay knew whom he was fucking. He saw it in those dark eyes too, when they met his. Like they were fucking looking right into him.

  “Never been like this.” He gritted out the words, pushing back, taking Clay in deeper.

  “Never….” It was more than an echo. It was like a fucking promise, and Clay moved in him, just surging into him. Thrusting, Clay pressed deeper with each move of those hips.

  Clay pegged his gland and he almost fucking screamed, head tossing, prick slapping his belly. “There.”

  “Right there? Yeah, I like what that does.” It was a barely audible growl, but Vance heard it loud and clear. Clay hit that spot over and over, slamming into him.

  Shit. Shit. He…. Oh, sweet fuck, yes. His eyes r
olled back, and he clutched at Clay’s body.

  Things slipped right into pure sensation, Vance’s focus on nothing more than Clay and him and the way they were moving. Clay pulled him up and sat back so he was almost riding upright, that prick pushing so deep he thought it might kill him. But what a fucking amazing way to go. He might have groaned, might have growled, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that fucking pleasure.

  He knew Clay was growling, though. No one could miss those animalistic sounds. They poured over him as Clay bucked and writhed. His head rolled, eyes trying to focus on something, anything. Vance was so hot; his skin felt like it was going to crackle.

  “God. Vance. I can’t….” Clay’s face drew up in a grimace, his eyes all but fucking glowing. Then Clay was coming inside him, pounding deep, wet heat filling him. That was what he needed, Clay’s heat pushing his own orgasm out of him in a rush.

  “Goddamn, I cain’t leave you two alone for a minute.” Remy’s voice pushed through the afterglow.

  Clay laughed, the sound barely there, like there wasn’t enough air to make it. “We just had to set a few things straight, babe. Anyone take notice of you?”

  “Nah. I just bought some stuff, paid, and came back. Smells like a whorehouse in here. I shoulda bought that apple spray stuff.”

  Little fuckhead.

  Clay stared over Vance at Remy, giving the man a look. “Be nice, babe. You want me to cook?”

  “Oooee!” Was that a real noise or did the goddamn Cajun turn into a pig?

  “What about you, honey?” Dropping a quick kiss on Vance’s mouth, Clay slid out of him, lifting him. “Want a nice, juicy, rare steak?”

  “Oh.” The sound that escaped him was a damn animalistic growl, as bad as Remy’s squeal.

  Remy just hooted. “You’d best feed him, cher, ’fore he eats you and me both.”

  “You don’t shut up, I’ll let him eat you….” Look at that ass. Clay prowled over, grabbed Remy’s neck, and took what looked to be a bruising kiss before going to poke through the plastic bags.

  Remy hummed, swayed for a second, blinking over at Clay with a vaguely dazed expression.

  Vance needed a fucking shower.

  And another cigarette.

  Chapter Fourteen

  CLAY WATCHED Remy and Vance circle each other for as long as he could stand it. They were just snarly, being closed in, and hell, so was he. He couldn’t blame them. What they needed was to arm themselves with information. That meant finding out all he could about his enemy. Clay finally grabbed one of the hotel chairs and turned it around, straddling it. He stared from Remy to Vance and back, finally growling.

  “Sit.”

  Remy sat.

  Vance rumbled back, baring his teeth a bit. “Fuck off, man.”

  “I need to talk to you, Vance. We need to figure this shit out.” He waved a hand. “Sit, please.”

  “It’s less fun to fight with you if you’re being polite.”

  Good to know. He was Old South. He could be excruciatingly mannerly.

  Vance grabbed a chair, turned it around to straddle it in a dramatic mockery before sitting.

  They stared at each other until he started to grin. “So tell me about the guy you work for.”

  “He’s Southern. Like antebellum. He pays good money. He’s not real big on the sense of humor thing.” Vance sighed, chewing on his lip a second. “He’s got an overdeveloped sense of vengeance and a bead on me, it looks like.”

  “Well, I can see that. I mean, if he thinks you betrayed him.” Clay tilted his head. “But let’s go back a bit. What does he want with me?”

  “I don’t know.” Clay glowered, and Vance shrugged. “He’d call with a town and have me encourage the bloodsuckers to move on. The ones that wouldn’t move, I got rough with. He never said anything about why. I always figured people were dying.”

  “Well, it’s entirely possible. But not with me. When was the last time I killed anything, Rem?”

  “Does the little fuck that come to kill Boo count, boss?”

  “Did I kill him?” Well, shit. He thought he’d just… mangled him a bit. “No.”

  “Okay, then. Six years, give or take.” At his look, Remy grinned conspiratorially. “’Member that guy who’d been beating up old ladies? The crazy one? Him. That was a service to society.”

  “Well, there you go. See, honey? I’m a good guy.” He winked, just loving the head-tilty look Vance gave him.

  “I know. I mean, I don’t know, but I’m not a fucking monster. I was a cop. A good guy. Once.”

  The urge to get up and go over there and kiss the fire out of Vance all but overwhelmed him. Clay let his eyes do the talking instead of his fingers, though, staring right into Vance’s eyes. “I know that, honey.”

  “So I think I’m heading to Virginia to deal with him.” Vance scratched idly at the old scars, fingertips rasping. “You two staying together?”

  His hands clenched so tight on the back of the chair that wood and vinyl creaked. “You ain’t going without me, Vance. No way.”

  “You can’t walk into a giant blood-and-fang trap, man. I can. You have that whole burning-death relationship with the sun.” Right, like Vance wasn’t avoiding the sun like the plague. Drinking Clay’s blood was changing him.

  “Oh, fuck that. You go, I go. That’s that. You can put me in the trunk and let Remy drive.” Clay winked at his little Cajun, who was watching them like a tennis match.

  Remy arched an eyebrow. “Why we got to go at all? We jus’ find us a place and land.”

  “Because he’s the Boy Scout type, babe. Now that he thinks the Colonel is wrong, he’s gonna go confront him. Right, Vance?” Clay turned to meet those dead-serious eyes, knowing it was true.

  “Fuck off.” Oh, those cheeks went red, though, Vance ducking his head.

  “No. Rather fuck you.” He gave up on sitting so far away, springing up to stalk over and put his hands on Vance’s knees, then squatted down so they were more face-to-face. “I ain’t saying you don’t got the right, babe.”

  He felt Vance shudder. “You’re under my skin, man, like a drug. He’ll keep hunting you unless I take him down.”

  “Then we take him down.” That was simple enough, right? “We’ll figure it.”

  “Y’all got yourselves some weird mojo ’tween you.” Remy stood, stared into Vance’s eyes. “You crazy, man. You know that.”

  “I will kill you, Remy. Just out of boredom.” Vance sounded so incredibly reasonable.

  “No killing Remy. He’s a good boy. Got a great ass. And, unlike us, he can go out in the sun.” Clay whapped Vance’s leg lightly, just to make his point.

  “Us? I don’t have a problem with the sun.”

  Remy blinked at Vance’s words, stared back at him with curious eyes.

  “Honey, you were having a hell of a time this morning.” Lord, Vance was gonna fry one of these days, just out of sheer cussedness.

  Vance snorted. “I just was tired.”

  “And a little stupid.” Remy wasn’t helping with that cheerful sarcasm.

  “For fuck’s sake. You”—he pointed a finger at Remy—“stop it. And you…” He looked back at Vance. “You need to think about what’s going on instead of denying it.”

  “What’s going on? I’m not flipping over. Last time I checked, that required death. I have no memory of dying.”

  Clay sighed. So much for getting his own information. “Yeah, well. Being with me might have some, uh… side effects.”

  “Rash? Sensitivity to light? Blue balls?”

  “A wanting for… hey, you want that steak? I did promise to cook, huh? What all did you get, Rem?” Well, shit. Vance wasn’t the only one good at denial.

  “Red meat. Jerky. Beer. Donuts. Salsa. Good stuff.”

  “Good man.” He stood, stretching, pondering pants. Steak required pants. Splatter was never good on sensitive parts.

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” Vance wrapped a hand around his cock, fingers on his
balls. “What side effects?”

  “Sunlight bad. Raw meat good.” He went up on tiptoes, not even smart enough to be worried, no sir. Nope, his cock just went right hard.

  “I don’t eat raw meat.” That hand started moving, with slow strokes.

  “Uh. Okay.” What? Was there a question? Shit. That felt amazing.

  “Lord, Lord, Lord. I’ll start the steaks.” Remy sounded almost snarly.

  “Don’t be a bitch, Rem. You could come help.” It wasn’t his fault Vance was like crack. It really wasn’t. The man just did things to him no one else had. That didn’t mean he was willing to let Remy go.

  “Your new boy’ll tear me up. Boo don’ look on me fond, boss.”

  Oh, for chrissake.

  “Jesus Christ, you two.” Clay’s eyes crossed when Vance’s thumb pressed against his slit. Fuck, how was he supposed to function when Vance was touching him that way and Remy was vibrating?

  “You just want to have your cake and eat it too.” Vance kept stroking, jacking him good and hard. Yeah? So? There was a problem with that? He was a vampire. That was how he was wired.

  “Uh. Cake. Yeah.” His brain was just gonna melt. That was all there was to it.

  Remy’s hands landed on his shoulders, rubbing, thumbs pushing in. Oh. Good man.

  “God. Y’all are good to me.” Vance’s hands…. Well, those were better than good. He looked down at that scarred man, licking his lips, needing.

  Vance’s eyes were shining, almost glowing, so close to bright it wasn’t funny. “No biting.”

  Oh, hell yeah. He cupped Vance’s cheek in one hand, the other going back to Remy’s hip, just like before. In the shower. Remy was a good man. Vance, though. Vance made him insane. Vance leaned into his hand, Remy moaning low, breath brushing his ear. Goddamn, he was the luckiest bastard on earth. Clay sank right back to the floor, dragging Remy with him, bending to bite at Vance’s thigh.

  “Oh fuck!” Vance’s cry made Remy jerk, rubbing against his hip, fingers digging in.

  Clay pressed against Remy, giving him more to slide on, and he licked at Vance, loving on the man. Jesus.