Love Lust Page 2

  His eyes searched mine for a moment, their pain sharp. “This one.”

  He pulled it out and tossed it to me. I recognized the title. It was his ode to me. “Nothing like a little public flogging, eh?”

  “I thought you liked it rough.”

  I flashed my eyebrows at him and bit down my retort. The urge to crawl over the table and bury my face in his lap gripped me. But it wasn’t unbearable. Resisting his temptation seemed to sap my energy levels, though. I might not have as much time as I initially thought to find new love.

  Fate, it seemed, got cheap thrills over taunting me. No sooner had I tamped down craving my beautiful Seth when the scent I’d lost returned. And my most primal parts tuned in to the smell. Pheromones, hormones, chemistry. It defied the logic I’d once believed life had. My gaze darted over the room, from tables to the cashier back to Seth.

  He’d once held my senses captive like this. He’d once carried this scent. No more, though. The sad but telling sign revealed within an instant, my lust had coldly moved on. His love couldn’t sustain my life any more.

  Seth looked past his shoulder. Had he noticed the change in me? “Expecting someone?” he asked.

  “Just Paula,” I lied. “Thought I saw her.”

  He scanned my face. “Maybe she forgot to come.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” I forced my attention back to the table, but my senses picked up on everything else. The grind of the machines brewing coffee heaven. The funky folk music wafting from the speakers. Chatter.

  Whoever my potential lover was, he was close. Either way, I put a smile on my face and did my best to appear unruffled. Somewhere, fate chuckled heartily over this one. Had to be. I would not hurt Seth with so much as witnessing a casual flirtation. Yet, there my lust was, begging for me to hunt.

  Maybe I’d call Paula after all. With her here, resisting my craving’s awakening might be easier. Or harder.

  I ditched the idea altogether and took to sipping my latte, pretending Seth wasn’t searching my face for answers. “So.”

  “I miss you,” he said. And before I could fumble a response, he rose from the table. “I’m going to grab a smoke. I think they’re starting soon.”

  I nodded, watching him leave in that easy gait that was so Seth. The second he was out the door, I took a full, long look around me. The scent was still strong and, really, in such a space, any of the thirty some-odd patrons could be the source. I’d have to mingle to locate the one my body, my succubus curse, wanted.

  I couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not at all. I had hurt Seth enough, breaking it off with flimsy excuses that showed what a terrible liar I still was when it came to what mattered. At least it proved I was still human, if only partly.

  The announcer welcomed the first act. I kept my eyes on the door, focusing on Seth returning. Guitar notes strummed the air. I looked to the stage. Wavy, shoulder-length hair framed strong, angular features and nice, broad shoulders. His hand shook. He stopped strumming, cleared his throat and began again. When I heard his deep, velvety voice, something within me shifted and I knew, down to my essence, this was him. This was the lover I had scented out. This was the living, breathing body mine awoke to. I had to have him. My body screamed to have him.

  Seth sat down. I tore my eyes from my stare, gulping in air. “You startled me,” I said without thinking.

  He looked pale.

  “Hey, you okay?” The husky voice singing U2 tugged at my libido. I forced my gaze to remain on Seth.

  He nodded slightly.

  “Nerves?” The lyrics whispered to deep parts of me. I knew every word of the song. All I Want Is You. In my head, I sang along.

  Seth nodded harder. My chest panged. I came around and took his chilled hands in mine.

  “Hey, Seth. You can do this. You are the most talented person I’ve ever known. You have to do this. It will change your entire course. I know it.”

  A little color returned to his cheeks. It gave me enough comfort to steal a glance at the singer. He looked lost somewhere inside the song rather than sitting in the smoky room, strumming a western guitar. His sandy blonde waves fell over his face, barely revealing half-closed eyes.

  “Just breathe,” I told Seth. “It will be okay.” I hugged my arms around him, squeezing tight. He smelled good. Like rain and incense. Wonderfully, yet sadly, normal. “I know it.”

  The song ended and the room erupted in applause. “How am I supposed to compete with that,” Seth said.

  “Trust me. There’s no competition at all.” Despite my reaction and my guilt, in a way the words were true. Seth was a poet, not a singer. He could enthrall a crowd, too. “Just you and your words resonating in every heart in the room, inspiring hope and joy and pain and wonder. Okay?”

  Seth kissed my cheek, love on his lips. I patted him on the shoulder, swallowing the knot in my throat. The stranger looked up from his guitar, his hand resting on the wooden body like on a lover. My breath caught. His eyes met mine. In the dim light, at several feet of distance, they looked like the color of the ocean at dusk. My heart skipped and I became possessive and decided.

  He would be mine.

  Chapter Two

  The hip-hop beat and raunchy lyrics called to me. Following him from the café to the dance club was easy. Far easier than pretending he wasn’t in the room all night for Seth’s sake. And though he attracted more than his share of female attention, like most guys, he was a sucker for a schoolgirl skirt. Or maybe for the boots.

  I shouldn’t have come. It was dark out. Though I’d texted Paula an all clear, she’d be mad. We’d promised not to risk being seen in Jimi’s territory.

  Yet here I was, flexing my skills, on the hunt.

  It took little time and only a few sultry looks to get Justin to pull me onto the dance floor. The strobe light scattered dots of light over his skin. Justin. Good name. I liked the way it felt in my mouth and could imagine screaming it out, covered in sweat and satisfaction.

  The navy shirt hugged his broad shoulders. He knew how to move and took command of my hips. Thank God for tall and lean and beautiful men like this. I wanted Justin. Bad.

  No matter how many might deny it, though, men require a steep challenge in order to fall in love. Sex and challenge and more sex. They hate a tease because a tease will win their heart almost every time. If she plays her game right.

  I wasn’t a natural by any means, but I’d learned a few tricks over the course of seven men since acquiring my curse. Being so hungry for more would make it difficult to play hard to get. I wanted Justin’s hands in my hair, his waist in my eye line, his cock in my mouth. All, right there on the dance floor, for everyone to see. He smelled so good. But this wasn’t that kind of club and if it had been, I’d have a lust overdose.

  I had to settle for his nicely-sized erection pressed against my ass as I undulated my hips in rhythm to the pulsing bass. Thank God he was hot. Maybe that’s why fate had dangled him in the first place, forcing me to work for my little gift.

  Feral scent did not necessarily equate to attractive. And, shallow as it might be, I required at least liking what I fed on.

  “God, you’re sexy,” Justin said near my ear, sending delight shivering through my chest. “You trying to make me cum, right here?”

  I loved the idea. And hated it. “Where can we go?” I asked, obeying the music’s demand, swaying against him. I knew where I wanted to go. To the nearest semi-private space with room enough for me to straddle his hips and rock onto his big cock. But I had to be good. My lust might be in control, but my heart was on the line as well.

  Lust-sick, I could take right down to the dry heaves and migraine. Lovesick was just too hard, though. Lovesick ached soul deep.

  Justin took my hand and led me off the tangled dance floor. My thighs trembled in excitement. Wet heat bloomed between them. His voice alone was a numbing drug on my willpower. I was flirting with fire, I knew.

  We stepped into the cold night air. The din of the club hushed away, r
eplaced by the sounds of the nearby downtown strip. Traffic hummed. Bright lights blared and blinked. All I saw was him. His scent beckoned me to step off into untold pleasures. But my heart kept me grounded in reality. Though I still believed I’d find the one who would release me from this curse, chances were, Justin would be yet another link in the chain.

  He pulled me into the alleyway and pressed me against the concrete wall. His mouth covered mine in a demanding, feverish kiss. His tongue was hot, his lips soft, but firm on mine. I met each press and lick measure for measure, devouring every sweet suck and nip as he fed me with gratification.

  His hands found my waist. My hips found his bulging hard-on. God, he felt big. Bigger than before. My sex moistened from imagining the possibilities. Would he fill my mouth? Would it test my body’s limits? My appetite spiked at the very idea.

  Breaking our kiss, he stepped back. I realized I’d pushed him. Good girl. At least some sane part of me remembered to slow down. I couldn’t succumb to the need and drown in oblivion, not without risking everything. My future, my health, even my life, at times, difficult or not.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to come on so strong.”

  “It’s okay. You stopped.”

  “But I don’t want to.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking stunned and tousled and wonderful. “I’m so attracted to you.”

  I trembled inside. How had I resisted attraction like this so well before, with Seth? With others? My chest panged. If Seth only knew how much I had loved him. No. Better never to let him know. Because he wouldn’t understand. Even if I could tell him the truth and he believed it; it would hurt him. He would see me differently. I couldn’t live with that. I focused my gaze on my new interest. “I’m really attracted to you, too. But….”

  I had to play the game.

  “I know. I know. Too fast, right?”

  I nodded, peering up at him through my lashes, letting my lower lip pout ever so slightly. He’d fed me well, even with a kiss. And I had no doubt he was feeling more than typical desire for me. But a one-night stand would only make me crash. I needed long-term sustenance.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, his breath making hot clouds in the air. The throaty sound of it was a tease all its own.

  “Thanks,” I said and licked my lips.

  He groaned just watching. “Slower?”

  I nodded slightly, letting my hips jut forward in invitation. He took it. And by slow, he clearly meant, tantalizing. The demanding passion of before became a press and suckle of his lips on mine. His tongue softened. His lips’ moves did things in places he wasn’t even close to touching. The tenderness each touch caressed me with nearly hurt, it felt so good.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, leaning back so he could see my eyes and watch me react to his cold fingertips as they trailed up my bare thigh. “This isn’t exactly winter wear.”

  “It’s wool,” I said on a swallow, my mouth watering.

  His fingers snuck higher. Around to my inner thigh, past the hem of my skirt, pausing at the edge of my panties. Though we stood in shadows, I saw the blue of his eyes, heavy-lidded and lit with desire for me, which held mine. He slipped one finger beneath the satin threshold and tugged. The cold touch of his hand so close to the building, wet need inside of me made me whimper. His eyes flashed at the sound, triumphant. I moved toward his finger, wanting so much more. He didn’t move closer though, not at first. Not until I showed him pleading in my gaze.

  He grinned sweetly and inched closer, touching the slick result of my craving for him.

  “Jesus, you’re wet.” His gaze faltered, his eyes almost rolling back in exultation.

  I only nodded, waiting for his now warm finger to enter me, aching for the feel of his long, strong hand coaxing waves of pleasure from me. He didn’t make me wait long. Returning his steady gaze to mine, he drew his finger over my bulging clitoris, sending delicious shivers through me, curling my climax closer. He stroked down the length of my apex’s valley, allowing his other fingers to gently graze my most ticklish spots. I throbbed. He traced a circle that wound in closer, deeper, ever so slightly more into me until I could feel his rough knuckle pressing down.

  I gasped, raising my leg to allow better access. He took it and stroked in and out of my wet, hungry pussy with enthusiasm. A wicked grin curved his mouth. God, he was devastatingly sexy.

  “You like this, baby?” he said and I simultaneously loathed and loved the endearment.

  I nodded, fighting to keep my eyes open and staring back into his.

  “Am I going too fast?” he asked, sincere concern in his eyes and his voice.

  “I barely know you,” I said, breathless, nearly oblivious. His hands were magical and I was going to cum if he didn’t stop. But I wouldn’t tell him not to stop. I couldn’t.

  “But, you like me?”

  Who cared? Oh, yeah. I did. Love. Not just sex. Sex would not be enough. I needed both, as a woman and as the sex-addicted, cursed succubus I’d become. He paused. His hand went a little limp and moved away. I grabbed it before he could, shaking my head. “It just feels so good,” I said, hoping he would understand the struggle I was dealing with. “Do we like each other, maybe?”

  “Definitely,” he said and his mouth was on mine again, kissing me in such a way that spoke his limited control over his desire for me.

  I broke away. “I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl. I want you badly, but I can’t just…”

  “Neither am I. I know, I know. Never trust a stiff prick, right?”

  Speaking of stiff, I couldn’t resist reaching to the outline pressing against his jeans and feeling the length, grabbing the outline. Oh, my. He was endowed, to say the least. How would I ever get a man this hot, a man that I craved this much, to ever love me? Not by being easy. I had to stop. I had to play the game.

  I kept my gaze coy and daring. He pushed his finger back into me, slipping in a second. And every soft, slow stroke, every gentle kiss on my trembling lips, awakened my craving more fully. I fumbled the top button of his fly open, my hands shaking in eagerness.

  An eruption of noise startled me back to reality. A rowdy group leaving the club walked past the shallow alley. Justin moved, blocking the view of his hand up my skirt, but not a single passerby glanced our way. We must’ve been deeper in shadows than I thought. Or maybe I owed a thank you card to dollar shots night.

  They were gone and his finger drove into me again, making me moan from the shockwaves of pleasure in my pussy. My aching need and wakened craving coiled tighter. I had to cum. I needed to cum. I realized, no matter how much it risked that I’d never see this man again, my body and my curse didn’t care. Justin’s touch fed me and while the nourishment wouldn’t last, I wanted to binge on this pleasure for all it was worth.

  Admitting as much pushed me past the point of return. I couldn’t stop. Deep, primal need took over. His finger twirled and stroked. In and out of my slippery heat. Wet noise filled the air, mingling with my bated breathing and soft whimpers. I freed his cock and gripped the hard, thick length with both hands. God, he was glorious. The tip bulged. I could feel him throb in my careful grip. I wanted his cock in my mouth, in my aching pussy. But his fingers were magic and I couldn’t stop him. He pressed the heel of his palm against my clit.

  “You’re going to make me cum,” he said, groaning. But his eyes held to mine.

  “Jesus, that’s so perfect,” I panted, meaning his voice as much as his hand and as much as his cock in my stroking hands.

  My hips curled to his hand. I was going to explode and though I hated looking away from his erotic stare, I wanted to see the cum shooting out of the tip, dripping onto my trembling hands.

  “Say my name,” he said and kissed me quickly.

  “Justin,” I said, returning the deep kiss, then breaking away. “Yes, Justin.”

  “Cum for me, baby,” he whispered, fingers twirling and pressing and driving into my pussy.

  My legs shook. I c
losed my eyes, let my hands fall still and surrendered to the climax ready to sweep over me in steep waves.

  “No,” he said, but didn’t stop. “Open your eyes. I want to see you cumming.”

  I obeyed. “Oh, God.” The first wave took over. “Oh, God.”

  “Say it,” he purred, his eyes doing things to me I couldn’t explain.

  “Justin,” I moaned as my pussy clenched in tight, sweet pleasure. And I said it again and again and again. “Justin. Justin.” God, yes. Justin.

  My succubus hunger drank in the pleasure and grew supremely sated. But the woman I still was had a little something she wanted, too. A little taste of power.

  Justin gently pulled his hand from my body. I took it and licked each finger, loving the look in his eyes and the bounce of his cock.

  “My turn,” I said, lowering myself to a squat.

  His cock stood pointing high, rigid in anticipation. For the briefest moment I wondered how in the world I’d fit this thing in my mouth. He braced himself against the wall. A car drove past. I didn’t care. I wanted to taste his hot, salty essence. I wanted to see it shooting out, pouring over my hands. I wanted the power to do to him what he had done to me.

  I wanted him to scream my name.

  I looked up at him and smiled wickedly. “Say it.”

  “Olivia.”

  “Huh-uh. It’s Liv.”

  “Liv,” he panted, his gaze pleading.

  I licked the tip, suckled it, letting my mouth water over it so I could use the slick moisture to coax his cum into my waiting mouth. Justin groaned. His hips leaned in.