Smolder (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #29)(104)

program just before I finally got a doctorate.”

“That’s one reason I waited,” he said, “but ‘Doctor’ in front of your name impresses people, even if it’s not medical. I think if more of us who are professional come out as shapeshifters it will help people realize that we can live normal lives, good lives.”

We’d stopped moving as we got closer to her, and Jean-Claude said, “Let us greet our delectable Angel and then we must move with purpose to shower and finish the fourth mark before I am lost for the day.”

I let go of their hands to move toward her, but the moment I let go it was like all the stress and strain of the night caught up with me and all I wanted to do was sleep. I reached back for them, and they were already reaching for me. “What was that?” I asked.

“It is as if our enemy knows that we are about to close the door he used to enter us,” Jean-Claude said.

“You mean he’s trying to drain us now? How is he getting through to here?” I asked.

“I do not know, ma petite.”

“Then kiss us quick and do the fourth mark,” Angel said.

It took me a second to parse the us and then I felt Mephistopheles, my Devil, Dev, before I heard his voice say, “I was going to be sexy or pouty about you bringing another man into our bed without talking to me first, but I felt that drain on your power.” Then I saw all blond, golden-tanned, six-foot-three of him coming down the hallway toward us. The only thing that marred the usual view was a pair of silky brown jammie shorts that clung to his groin so that I wasn’t sure it actually hid anything, so much as emphasized it like good lingerie is supposed to. It made me wonder if he’d had a date with Asher interrupted, since the vampire had a thing for brown silks and satins. His thought in my head was no, they were just the only pajamas he owned. He said out loud, “You must finish the marks tonight, as much as I hate it.” That model-perfect face was as serious and unhappy as I’d seen it in a while. It almost didn’t sound like him.

I looked at Angel for an explanation, because she wasn’t just another gold tiger, she was his sister.

She gave me a look like I should have known exactly what was wrong; since we’d started dating I had had that look aimed at me more than once, but like all people who date beautiful women I had no clue what it meant most of the time.

I tried to read his thoughts again, but he thought loudly and clearly, “Please don’t push, I’m shielding for a reason.” I backed off, because that was our agreement with anyone we were psychically tied to; reading minds, like touching bodies, was by consent only. Sometimes strong emotions or thoughts would leak by accident like hearing a fight in another room, but short of that, consent was everything.

Angel rolled her eyes at me but came closer for a kiss. “Keep touching the men, I’ll do all the work,” she said with a smile that was flirtatious, with that touch of evil in the corner of her lips where she could quirk the smile up and show a small dimple like a period at the end of some sexy comment, except this comment curved with her full lower lip. Without the lipstick she normally wore her upper lip looked thinner, but her bottom lip was lush with or without lipstick.

I tightened my handholds on Jean-Claude and Richard as I moved toward Angel. She leaned down to meet me; her hands caressed my cheeks until she cupped my face between her hands. She kissed me softly but thoroughly, until my eyes closed, and I leaned into her. She wrapped herself around me and I tried to free my arms to hold her, but Jean-Claude and Richard held my hands tighter, which was just enough bondage to make me kiss her harder with tongue and teeth, pressing my body against hers. She returned the favor, and we must have gotten a little vigorous, because the men’s hands tightened around mine, so that I pulled against them not because I wanted them to let go, but because I couldn’t not struggle at least a little. It fed into the kiss, until when Angel pulled away she was breathless and so was I.

She was half laughing as she said, “If we had time I’d make you suck my breasts.”

I laughed back, still pulling at the men’s arms, but in that moment my attention was all for the woman in front of me. “You don’t have to make me do it.”

“I want to be the wicked lesbian forcing the straight girl to experiment while the men hold you down so they can watch.”

“No, our tigress, you know that watching alone does not please me,” Jean-Claude said.

She grinned at him, mouth wide enough to show teeth, her eyes sparkling and eager. “Watch until it’s time for you to join us, maybe.”

“Much better, my tigress.”

“Wouldn’t that make you the wicked bisexual?” I asked.

“True, but in porn the fantasy is always the lesbian gets carried away and one good fuck makes her at least bi. It’s not true, but for building fantasies it works,” she said.

“You do enjoy role-play,” I said.

“I do,” she said, looking very pleased with herself.

I felt Richard’s thoughts scramble as he tried to decide what to ask, or if he should say anything.

Was he allowed, was he invited, was he just supposed to shut up and let it play out? How did he get consent without seeming pushy? How would I feel about it? How would Jean-Claude? He’d been so controlled, but now his emotions opened him up. I didn’t blame him on this one.

I looked back over my shoulder and found that his face showed almost nothing of his confusion; good for him, it would have shown on my face. “It’s okay, Richard,” I said, then looked back to Angel. “Richard doesn’t want to take anything for granted, but he’s wondering if he’s included in this scenario?”