He gazed at the ceiling. “Oh, the joys of dating a psychic...”
She laughed, then crossed her arms and pretended to get tough. “Okay, you. Even psychics can’t read minds. Spit it out.”
“Thank, God.” He sighed. “I’m not exactly sure what it is that bothers me about it. It’s not exactly jealousy. I just don’t want you treated that way.”
“Oh.” She appeared to ponder that for a few moments. “Thanks, I think.”
“Don’t your skills as a medium and psychic pay well enough?”
“Not by themselves. We really need to supplement our income withsomething,and as they say, ‘sex sells.’”
“Is that why Gwyneth was writing erotica?”
“Yes, but she’s lost her enthusiasm for it. She claims she needs a new research partner, but I think she’s uncomfortable with her grammar. Joe used to take care of both for her.”
“I can imagine.”
“Look, don’t tell her I said that. Her ego has taken enough of a beating. To be honest, the still is the only thing she’s been excited about for quite a while. That’s why I’m not asking her to dismantle it and why I didn’t say much to discourage her cockamamie idea in the first place.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“No, of course not. I had hoped we’d be able to bottle a vampirism cure for you.”
“Why do you think it didn’t work?”
“Mikhail said there was some kind of secret ingredient. Even though he refused to tell me what it was, I’m hoping if we spend some time with him and I help with his magical needs, maybe he’ll decide he can trust us with it.”
“That’s a big ‘if.’ At least he’s willing to give us a case of the stuff. Maybe we can reverse engineer it.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“Great minds…”
“Yeah.” She smiled and looked down at her lap.
Damn. He wanted her every time she gave him that shy smile. Reaching out to cup her cheek, he drew her closer. “I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to help me. I know traveling to New York might be hard for you.”
“It might also be good for me.”
He kissed her straight nose. “That’s the brave woman I’m proud of.”
Morgaine hadn’t expected to end up in the bedroom that evening, but she was glad they did. Sly was an incredible lover—surprisingly gentle, considering his vampiric strength. He also had great—ahem—endurance. He made sure she was completely satisfied before reaching his own destination. And his recovery time might as well be measured with an egg timer.
She was still huffing and puffing from her second climax when he rolled up onto his elbow and gazed down at her.
“Want to go again?”
She laughed between deep breaths. “You’ve got to be kidding. Don’t you ever get tired?”
“Sex exhausts me about as much as a Sunday stroll.” He bent over her and kissed her forehead, nipped her nose, then he claimed her mouth with a fierce possession she hadn’t experienced before—ever.
She held onto his shoulders and returned his kiss with the same fervor. Their tongues met and swirled. He tasted slightly like the “vampire vodka” she’d given him, but another flavor mingled with it that she’d come to know as Sly’s very own.
Without realizing it, her hands began to wander. When her nails raked down his back, it only inflamed his passion more. He climbed on top of her and she felt the unmistakable hardness of his staff nudging her entrance.
She parted her legs and allowed him access. Without breaking the kiss or waiting for permission, he rammed himself home. She gasped and he wrenched his lips away.
“Oh no! Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”
