The Fangover (The Fangover 1)

Both Cort and Katie laughed. Cort supposed in a weird way they were a rather cute couple.

“Well, good night,” Cort said to the man.

The man stopped dancing. “Oh, you can’t go. Annalese will be here any moment.”

“Annalese?”

“The woman who married us last night.”

“Oh,” Cort said, “right.”

He looked at Katie. The last thing he wanted to do right now was wait for some woman, the friend of the Vagrant Dancer’s, who was probably as slightly off as he was.

“Do you really think this woman married us?” he whispered to Katie.

Katie shrugged. “I guess we could wait and see.”

Cort debated trying to convince her to leave, but decided that they had searched for answers all night, what could waiting a bit longer hurt?

Aside from his erection, which pressed uncomfortably against the fly of his jeans.

“Okay,” he said.

She rose up on her toes to kiss him, and very quickly it didn’t seem to matter that they were out on the sidewalk. Their desire overtook them.

Only when the bird began singing Barry White again, did Cort have the sense to realize where they were. But instead of waiting, he took Katie’s hand and pulled her toward an alleyway just past the bar.

“What are you doing?” she asked with a giggle.

“Taking you somewhere where I can kiss you senseless.”

“Okay,” she said readily, and he laughed.

Once in the shadows of the alley, away from the lights and few die-hard, late-night partiers, he pulled her back in his arms.

But instead of kissing her, he asked, “Why did you run away from the apartment?”

Katie looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. “I heard you talking to Drake about the fact that we weren’t married, and you sounded so relieved, that I just thought—well, I thought you didn’t want to be with me, period. It was silly of me to jump to conclusions without talking to you.”

“It was,” he agreed, but quickly added, “but I think we’ve both been doing that for a long time.”

Katie nodded. Then she reached up and touched his still bloodied nose. “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head.

She looked down at her fingers, then sucked his blood off her fingertips, the action so incredibly erotic.

He leaned in to kiss her. Their kiss quickly became as frantic and needy as it had been on the street, only now there was no winged chaperone to keep them in check. Soon they had their clothing yanked and askew, their hands roaming over each other’s bare flesh.

Cort reached for the zipper of her jeans, yanking it down. He shoved at the waistband, getting it down so he could sink his fingers between her thighs and stroke her wetness, her heat burning his fingers.

She gasped, dropping her head back against the brick wall.

“Why the hell did we wait so long to do this? To reveal to each other how we feel?”

Katie shook her head, half answering him, half responding to his touch.

“I don’t know. But I’m so glad we finally told each other.”

Cort made a low noise of agreement. He kissed her again. Stroking her lips with his, stroking her clitoris with his thumb as his fingers penetrated her.

She cried out, the hoarse sound so sexy, he groaned, too.

Without breaking their kiss, he reached for his own zipper, releasing his hard, aching cock.

“I want to go slow, but I can’t, baby,” he murmured against her lips.

He felt her smile. “We’re in an alley. I don’t think we are supposed to be going slow. I think it’s supposed to be hard and fast and dirty.”

He chuckled, thrilled by her words. “Oh, you are a bad girl, Katie Lambert.”

“Only for you.”

He growled, loving that fact. He positioned her and took her just as she said, thrusting into her hard and deep and fast.

Soon they were both panting and making low noises of their impending release. He filled her over and over, her body writhing between him and the wall. Then he felt her body tense, her muscles clamping around him, her orgasm holding her, and him, in its powerful grip.

“God, yes, baby. Come for me.”

She cried out, giving into it, and he rocked forward, deeper, preparing for his own orgasm.

And just as he thrust to the hilt and he felt his c**k throb and his come filling her, he shouted, his ecstasy increased a hundred times as her fangs penetrated the fragile flesh of his neck.

She sucked, drawing his blood deep into her body. His c**k inside her, her fangs in his, and his blood filling her.

It was heaven, pure heavenly bliss, beyond anything he’d ever felt. And this time he didn’t try to stop her. He wanted to give himself to her in this way. He wanted to feed her, satisfy her desire, her lust, her hunger. He wanted to be her everything.

She was his, and he was so very much hers.

So she drank and they both came again from the rapture of it.

And when he knew he had to muster the strength to stop her, she lifted her head on her own. She licked her red lips, regarding him with a combination of guilt and pleasure.

“I wasn’t supposed to do that,” she whispered.

He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her lips. “I wanted you to do that. I wanted you to feed from me.”

“And I want you to feed from me,” she said.

“I have. And I will again. But right now, I just want to get you home.” He looked up at the sky. “In fact, we need to get home.”

She looked up, too. “Okay.”

They straightened their clothing and tried to compose themselves as best they could. Not an easy task, given the intensity of what they just experienced.

“You know,” Katie said as they reached the street, “I don’t think either of us has really said exactly how we feel about each other.”

Cort stopped, reaching for both of her hands.

“That one is easy for me. I’m falling in love with you. I have been for years.”

Katie’s gaze moved over his face, and he could see tears glistening in her gorgeous blue eyes.

“I’m falling in love with you, too.”

They kissed, and Cort couldn’t recall ever feeling this damned good.

“Here they are.”

They parted to find the Dancing Vagrant standing beside a short woman in colorful flowing skirts. Her lovely skin was smooth and the color of café au lait. Her hair fell in cornrows around her face, and she had the most piercing blue eyes Cort had ever seen.

Cort didn’t need her to say a word to know she was a voodoo priestess. But that didn’t mean a marriage performed by her would be recognized as valid.