Sunday, June 22, 2014

"She tasted like sugar and sex": Sunday Snog

It's Sunday Snog time and I haven't participated in a while. Seemed like a good time to post a fairly inappropriate smooch from the new novella Crossroads. Cover is stellar and of course by Willsin Rowe. This novella originally appeared in Other Magical Creatures from Torquere Press but now it's available as a stand-alone. Ta and da!

More Sunday Snogs at Victoria Blisse's Blog. Go forth and be a voyeur. :)

Happy Sunday :)

Ty eyed the door and sniffed. He could smell her. He sniffed the pink bakery box and smelled past the sugary sweet scent of the cupcakes within. He smelled her, equally sweet, but in a different way. Human, warm, aroused. He closed his eyes and inhaled until his cock got hard. He could smell her excitement on the box as surely as he could smell vanilla and sugar and butter. Her scent had been easy to follow all the way to her front door.
Despite her smell, he wanted to know what she had been doing outside of the Second Street Gallery. He wanted to know what business she had, if any, with Wesley. And he wanted to know what she had thought of the little show they had put on. She had been what had caused him pause during his encounter with Wes, and he would have caught her there if he hadn’t had a brain scrambled by hormones and orgasms.
He banged again and cocked his head, hearing the soft sound of her bare feet hitting the floor inside. She was coming, slowly and cautiously, but coming. The smell of sex and hormones and arousal smacked him in the face like a hot, humid wind. His cock twitched again, and he briefly wondered how he had gone from a long dry spell to being so seriously horny with a hair trigger in a day. 
“Come on,” he growled softly, and then he held his breath. She was right there, right on the other side of the door. He could feel it. He pressed his hand to the white-washed wood and waited for her to eye him up through the security hole. 
He nearly waved to her, but thought that might freak her out. He could feel her trepidation, and it made his heart constrict. “I know what you are,” he said, picking up the tingling electric feel of her magic even as he said it. My God. How had he not picked it up at the gallery? Had the sex scent short circuited his sense of smell? “You’re a witch. What do you want with Wesley? I won’t hurt you,” he added, knowing she could hear him. Then he smiled. 
He heard her gasp from inside, and that made him smile. “I work for Wesley,” she said so softly that a normal human never would have heard her. 
“That makes two of us,” he answered. “Now will you open the door? You left your cupcakes. Xrated cupcakes, from what I can see.”
“I don’t know.” She sounded even more nervous if that was possible.
“Come on, it’s the least you can do after watching such an intimate moment.”
This time, when she gasped, he really couldn’t help it. He laughed. A long, silken laugh that made him relax to the point that his body gave a slight ripple. A human watching him might have thought their vision had gone blurry and distorted for a moment. They would see the sharpening of his facial features and a shift in his musculature. Then they would rub their eyes and his human side would have reasserted itself and he would be normal looking. But she was not the run-of-the-mill human. When he laughed and his body rippled with the pure joy of his amusement, she breathed, “My God. You’re a shifter. A feline.” He could hear the awe in her voice. 
When he sniffed, he could smell the spike of her curiosity and attraction. She wanted him. He could smell it as easily as he could smell her perfume: vanilla, lavender and honeysuckle. Nice. “Open the door, please. I won’t hurt you. And I’d like to see your face. If you’re going to lust after me, then the least you can do is let me see your pretty face.”
He heard the chain, and then the door was cracked. “How do you know I have a pretty face?” she asked. “How do you know I’m pretty at all?”
Ty shrugged and firmly and steadily pushed on the door until she was forced to step back.
“Easy,” he said as more and more of her came into view. “You smell pretty.” 
Then the door was open and there she stood, a short white nightgown her only defense against him. The light behind her highlighted the fact that she wore nothing under it. The scent of her in the small house said she had just orgasmed, the more intense scent coming off of her in waves saying she wanted him. Badly. 
She had backed up into the middle of the living room and stood there panting like some small animal that had been cornered. Ty raised his head and sniffed. He pinned his eyes to her gorgeous, flushed face and set the bakery box down on an ottoman. A pink ottoman that was threadbare in spots, total vintage. Just like most of the room, he saw as his gazed ticked left and right and assessed every little thing. “You smelled pretty, but you are fucking stunning.” 
When he stepped toward her, her slim, bare feet whispered on the hardwood floor. She was tall; he liked women tall. Her bright green eyes were full of fear, but in there with the fear was a bright and shining excitement. Her lips pursed in a petal pink “o” of surprise, and he reached forward slowly, pushing his fingers gently into her nearly black hair. Bed head was her friend. The whole look of her, slightly disheveled, her pulse high, gave her a come and fuck me air that made him harder than he thought he could get following such a thorough and stellar blowjob from Wes. 
“But, I… um…”
“I’m going to kiss you, so don’t scream, okay?”
Before she was done nodding, he had pushed his lips to hers and buried his tongue inside the sweet warmth of her mouth. She tasted like sugar and sex. She stilled for a moment, frozen against him as if terrified. Then her slender arms wound around his neck, and she pressed her lean body against his. Ty kicked the front door shut with his boot. “Why were you there tonight?” he asked, thumbing her nipples through her well-washed nightie. “You’re not one of them are you? You don’t smell like it, but I have to protect Moore. Wesley, I mean.”
“To show him my cakes. And one of who? What?” Her gaze never left his mouth, and he leaned in and bit her plump bottom lip. She let out a little cry, but her hips shot forward and bumped his.
His cock was achingly hard, and the smell of her was filling his head, dimming his vision and his rational thought. 
“The bad guys. Wesley has hired me for security. He had some threats.”
“Oh, no,” she said, but her lips were working against this. Ty grabbed her ass, hiking her up higher and flush against his hard-on. This was bad, very bad, fucking another of the staff. Not a good move, but beyond thinking how bad of an idea it was, he was powerless to stop himself. Soft and warm and very willing, her pulse was nearly audible to him.
“Yeah. We’ll work it out. I’ll keep him safe.”
She startled him when she first ground her pussy hard against the ridge of his dick and then said against his mouth, “What does he taste like? Wesley? What does he taste like?”
Ty cupped the back of her head and kissed her so hard he feared he might bruise her. “You’re tasting him. He was the last person I kissed. How do we taste?” He worked her tongue brutally hard until she went soft in his arms. “What do Wesley and I taste like?”

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