Eric was leaning against the side of his car, inhaling the night, when someone switched off the neon Diablo's sign. He was mulling over the evening's business, irritated that it would be trickier than he'd expected, when he heard Rio say something in a loving tone—was she saying goodnight to Ailling?—and watched her emerge from the darkened doorway. She was carrying her guitar by its neck, swinging it in rhythm to the long pendulum stride of her endless legs; the rodeo heels of her boots gave her a slight swagger and her breasts bounced just a little inside her denim shirt. Her head was tilted down, her hat brim covering her face until she was almost upon him. She stopped about a yard from the toes of his shoes and slowly, deliberately raised her head until her eyes, black in the darkness, met his.
"Northman," she said in that cigarette voice. "Rio," he responded and was rewarded with a broad smile, revealing even white teeth. "See?" her smile resonated in her voice, "I told you: already friends."
Eric let his eyes wander all over her, memorizing her. She stood still and watched him take her in. After he had taken the measure of her long legs—almost as long as his—her boyish hips, her tanned arms, her lithe neck, her proud, straight shoulders, her refined jaw line, her full mouth with its slowly spreading smile, her perfect nose spattered with freckles, and the deep pools of her eyes under slightly raised brows, he said, so softly it was more a movement than a sound, "Your hat."
Rio raised her hand, grasping the brim between thumb and fingers, running them around the brim to the back and tipping the hat forward. Her hair fell across her face and shoulders with an audible whisper, silk woven from strands of copper and gold. She swung her body from her narrow waist, lifting her hair around her shoulders to fall behind her. As if he could not help himself, Eric stepped up to her. He gently took her guitar and hat and laid them in the back of her truck. Then he sunk his hands in her hair where it poured down her back past her shoulders. It was so soft that if not for its weight, he would almost not feel it. It smelled like rain. He pulled it forward, drawing her close, and she shut her eyes, parting her lips. To his total surprise, her long fingers tucked into his pockets as she swayed against him.
Eric inhaled to draw in her scent: down past the bar smells of beer and tobacco and grease and human, she was like an ocean breeze, salty and moist. Moving with measured slowness, he bent slightly, touching the tip of his tongue to her freckles, one after another, until a low "mmmmmm" escaped her. Her fingers curled inside his pockets. She went up on her toes, pressing her breasts against his chest until her mouth found his. For a second, she stood just like that, perfectly still, then she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and held it between her teeth. Eric groaned and wrapped his arms around her.
Sensing his need to speak, Rio released his mouth, but otherwise stood exactly as she was, pressed against him with no air space in between.
All Eric could think of to say was, "Umm." What was happening to him? As if reading his mind, Rio spoke against his mouth, "I live real close." Then she rotated her body on his without breaking contact, turning around with her back to him and opening her truck door. Eric sunk his face into her hair at her nape—wiling her to stay—nuzzling down past her collar to the skin. She sighed and arched her back, pressing her firm round rump against his growing hardness. He nipped her neck and sucked her skin into his mouth a little. Without losing contact with his hips, she leaned forward, pressing her palms on her truck's seat. For a split second, Eric's surprise held him motionless, but to make her invitation perfectly clear, she unbuckled her belt, unzipped her jeans and started pushing them down around her knees. She wasn't wearing any panties. Her bottom was smooth and tight like two basketballs covered in peach fuzz and she was completely tanned—no bikini lines. Eric growled.
Rio raised up on her toes, presenting herself to him, and he didn't need to be asked again. His fingers entered her—and he was stopped by how wet and tight she was— before teasing and stretching her. She was swinging her hips slightly, and tightening her inside muscles to grab his fingers and pull them in. The sensation was incredible, and Eric gasped. He could not believe that he was feeling hot, like he'd had a blood meal. He unzipped his jeans and using his thumbs to open her, he steadied himself at her entrance. She was making tiny noises like an anxious kitten, and he pressed into her just a bit. She tried to back onto him, but he held her firm. "Northmaaaannnn," she moaned and with deliberate, teeth-clenching slowness, he parted her. She was so tight, and he so large, he wasn't at all sure he'd make it all the way in, but she backed into him until he was totally buried in her heat, and they both stopped still, savoring that feeling until she started dancing on her toes.
Eric gathered up her hair, weaving his fingers into it, and used it to pull her head up and back until her spine swayed into an arc. Then he leaned over her, slipping his hand up under her shirt to explore her breasts. No bra either. Her breasts were warm in his hands and her nipples were hard. He pinched them gently and that made her buck back into him and it was his turn to moan. Before he could make a move, Rio slid forward and almost completely off him, then slammed back. He picked up her need, making long strokes, and adjusting his angle a little each time, searching for her special spot. He knew when he found it, because all Rio's internal muscles grabbed him like a hand and air escaped her in a hiss, "Yessss. Northman, Yes. Northman. Yes, Northman," and he followed her rhythm, feeling himself building toward a climax just hearing her smoky voice sing-songing his name. As he hammered her spot, he moved a hand between her legs to rub her swollen nub. Rio cried, "Eric," and came, and her inner pulses brought him to his own peak.
He sagged over her for a moment, feeling almost dizzy from the speed of his arousal and completion. Then he lifted off her, memorizing her fabulous bare ass as he zipped up his jeans. He bent to plant a kiss on one cheek then the other, and raised up her jeans, sorry to be covering up all that beauty. With a sigh, she hoisted herself upright, pulling herself behind the steering wheel of her truck. She fixed him with her bottle green gaze. He could not stop himself from smoothing a strand of her hair from her face. She repeated the last words she had spoken—not counting the "Northman!" and "Eric!"—in her mellow voice: "I live real close."
He smiled gently, and said, "I would love nothing more, but I cannot." He started to explain to her, as he usually had to explain to others, that as a vampire, he needed a secure light-proof sleeping place, and he had such an arrangement at the King's hotel. But to his astonishment, she said, "At my house, there will be no sunlight while you sleep. No harm will come to you there."
He raised his eyebrows at that, disbelieving. But with a couple of hours until dawn, and the promise of her gorgeous body ahead of him, he reasoned to himself, "Why not?" He nodded to her that he understood—even though he really didn't—what was happening to him?—and got in his car, saying, "I'll follow you."
Somehow he knew she'd drive like a bat out of hell, and he was ready. The roads were relatively quiet, and his Corvette loved to go, so he followed her easily, tearing down the 3 a.m. streets. He had barely gotten up speed when she pulled over against the curb in front of a ramshackle house with peeling paint and a sagging porch—she did live close.
He got out of his car, and she was waiting beside him, a huge grin lighting up her face. Somehow while she raced through the streets, she had managed to tie a knot in her hair to hold it back—he had never seen anyone tie her hair up like that before, and his feeling of arousal over it took him by surprise. "Not many drivers can keep up with me," she said with a smile in her voice. "I like you, Northman."
"I should think so, Rio; you just had sex with me in a public parking lot." he observed. Her grin spread and she took his hand, guiding it between her legs, where he felt her heat and the wetness of his own emissions dampening her jeans. She leaned in to kiss him, her lips clinging to his, and she made a low hum into his mouth. He was ready to take her again, but she linked her arm through his and steered him up the few steps to her porch.
Rio did something at the door that did not seem to involve keys, and she stepped into the dark hall, turning to him immediately. "Please come into my home, Northman," she invited, knowing without him saying that he had to be invited in before he could cross her threshold; the knowledge of his kind she exhibited was just one of so many surprises he continued to experience in her presence. He went through the doorway, feeling cautious, but not able to tamp down his growing delight.
As Rio shut the door, Eric felt a calmness fill him, and the outside world was eerily hushed. He felt safe, just as she had promised. What sort of magic was she weaving? She didn't appear to be anything but a human girl, if a fabulously beautiful one.
She studied him in the darkness; he realized with a shock that she could see him as easily as he could see her. He reached out to gather her in his arms, and murmured against her hair, "Bed?" Still in his embrace, she walked backwards into the large room off the hall, walking him along with her. With his vampire vision, Eric took in an overstuffed chair and couch, before he almost stumbled over her—Rio had slithered out of his arms and was kneeling in front of him. Before he could react, she was biting him through his jeans, and he threw back his head, growling as his erection rose to her attack. She unzipped his jeans and freed him, and he knew without looking that she was assessing his… largess. She began to cover him with tiny, feathery kisses, those full lips clinging to his sensitive skin, nibbling a little. He sunk his fingers in her hair and rumbled low in his chest. He felt her lips around him draw up in a smile, then she sucked him in, pushing his foreskin back with her tightened lips, exposing his head to her pointed, probing tongue. He gasped and crooned her name Loriola drawing out the "O" as she moved her lips over his hardness, She wriggled her fingers inside his jeans to cup his balls and softly, gently bobbled them in her palm. Then her fingers probed farther back, touching his opening, and he jerked. He grabbed her arms and raised her up, groaning as her mouth left him.
She pulled her shirt off over her head and stood back in her low-riding tight jeans and cowboy boots, so he could see her. He found himself asking, "Light?" and without her moving, the room took on a soft, moonlit glow—if moonlight had been golden.
Rio's breasts, like her bottom, were completely tanned. No tan lines. They were high and perfect, the upper halves sloping naturally and the undersides full and round. Her pointed nipples, erect for him, were the same color as her mouth, rosy pink. His eyes glowed with desire.
She backed up to the couch and sat, leaning back. She watched him watch her undo her jeans and grab the hems to pull them off, leaving on her boots. His eyes traveled the length of her coltish legs—they were so long it took a while. "Northman, look at me," she said. His eyes flew back to hers in surprised wonder; wasn't that what he'd always said when he fucked her mother? She held his eyes and slowly, lazily spread her legs. She twirled her golden pubic curls in her fingers, before dipping lower to stroke herself. Eric growled, stripping off his shirt and jeans, moving to position himself on his knees in front of her. But before he could enter her, she moved one knee to block his access, lifting the other leg up to the back of the couch, lying back along its length. She continued to finger herself and took his hand to have him join her. Amazement washed over him again as he felt her wetness and heat, his fingers entering her as she worked her nub, then their hands switched places, as her hips began twitching side to side with her building climax. She turned her head, parting her lips. "Fuck me," she sighed and he knew what she wanted. He moved toward her head and she grabbed his cock in her avid mouth, moving on him in earnest. He moved in and out of her as her tongue made circles around him. He was spellbound by the sight of their intertwined fingers bringing her off and her swollen lips sucking him in. The air between them seemed to sparkle and glitter, and he came in her mouth with such force that she choked a bit before swallowing.
She pulled his fingers free and spun on the cushions, flipping one leg up and over his head, grabbing his hips and guiding him inside her. Still pulsing with aftershocks, he plunged all the way in her, yowling with the ecstasy of her tightness holding him. She thudded her boots on the floor to either side of his knees, raising her hips to jam him into her again and again and again until she cried "Eric!" and came. Her rhythmic pulses brought him to a second climax in as many minutes, and he collapsed on her, panting.
After a moment, she wiggled a bit and Eric lifted his weight off her; she tugged on him to join her on the big couch, and flung one leg over him when he did just that. "You are panting," she observed. "Umhum," was all he could manage in reply. "But you don't breath," Rio said. "You make me want to," Eric said into the side of her neck where she held him. He smelled her heavenly skin, hearing the pulse run under it. "I so want to bite you," he sighed. "What's stopping you?" Rio asked, and to make her invitation clear, she lifted her chin to fully expose her long neck. "I am stopping me," Eric admitted. After a moment, he added, "I am afraid."
Rio shifted a bit, so she could look at his face. She stroked his brow and cheek. "You have nothing to fear from me, Northman." But Eric shook his head. "Fairy blood is intoxicating to vampires," he said flatly.
"You, intoxicated, is something I'd like to see," Rio responded, reinforcing her words by pressing her glorious skin the full length of him. He rumbled his appreciation. She lifted his hand to her mouth, sucking in his middle finger. He groaned. Holding his hand steady, she began sliding his finger over the cusps of her back teeth, scraping them against his flesh. She pushed his finger over with her clever tongue, tucking it into her cheek, and said, "How about if I taste your blood?" It was a little garbled with his finger in her mouth, and it made him chuckle, before he fully realized what she'd said.
He was on his feet in a vampire second, staring at her. "My blood?" he practically sputtered. "Oh no. Oh NO!" His hands made a dismissive wave.
"Been there, done that?" Rio teased. He nodded, and to cover his confusion—how did she know about that?—he said, " Dawn is coming. I have to go." She stood up, and moved into his arms. She nuzzled her nose into that sensitive place where neck met shoulder, and said into his skin, "No. You can stay here." He kissed the top of her head, then bent to kiss her shoulder—there was a sprinkling of freckles there, too. "I can't. The sun…"
"I told you," Rio interrupted him. "The sun cannot find you here." He looked at her skeptically, then looked around the room at the windows; was this some sort of trick? He felt uneasy, even as he wanted to trust her. As if he'd spoken his doubts aloud, she said, "You have no reason to trust me—other than that you've had your cock in my mouth—but you are safe with me. Much safer than at Felipe De Castro's hotel."
That surprised him. He'd said nothing of why he was in Nevada. He hoped he didn't look as flustered as he felt, and chose to side-step that for now. "What safeguards could there possibly be in a house this falling down old?"
Rio handed him his jeans, telling him with a look to put them on. She took his shirt and pulled it over her head; because she was so tall, it barely made her decent. She looked luscious in just his shirt, her nipples poking at the fabric, and her cowboy boots, but before he could act on his rising desire, she took his hand and led him out on the porch. Puzzled, he followed along.
Rio closed the door and turned to him. "Go in," she said. Eric turned the knob, but the door did not open. He looked at her and shrugged, "Locked," he responded. "No," she replied. He looked at the door more closely. There was no locking mechanism evident in the wood or the knob. He tried the door again, but it would not budge. "C'mon, Northman," she chastised him, "aren't you a big, strong vampire?" And at her sneer, he reared back and kicked the door with his full force. His foot rebounded off the door and he fell to the porch. To her credit, Rio did not laugh, but he leapt up, truly angry now, and charged the door with a snarl. All that did was hurt his shoulder. He leapt to the street, grabbed a stone from the curb and hurled it with vampire force at the window. Nothing. No shattered glass, not even a crack. He was practically panting with effort.
Rio held out her hand to him and he joined her on the porch, taking it. She laid her hand on the door, and sunk into herself. Eric felt a tickling run up his arm to the hand she held. She stepped aside, and looked at him, then at the door. Was she kidding, he thought, rubbing his smarting shoulder. But he stepped to the door to give it another thump, and before he could touch it, it swung aside for him. Taking his hand again, Rio pulled him inside, saying, "The house is attuned to you now. Until I tell it otherwise, for as long as I live here, it will recognize you. It will let no one else in."
Eric felt completely out of his league. He had never been more flummoxed by anyone or anything in his long existence. But he was also captivated. And delighted. Rio led him up the stairs, the golden moonlight glow preceding them. Her bedroom was under the eaves of the roofline. There was nothing in the room but a huge bed with white linens. Spaced evenly around the walls were a few pegs, holding a dress or a sweater or a shirt. Her battered hat was on one. Her guitar was propped in a corner—Eric was past wondering how they had gotten here from her truck. From the stair landing, Eric saw through an open door into an old-fashioned bathroom with an immense claw-footed tub. There were no windows.
"I suppose I don't need to ask if the roof is light-tight?" Eric scowled up at the ceiling. Rio responded, "No. You don't need to ask." Eric stepped up to her then, running his hands up under his shirt to cup her magnificent rump, pulling her to him. He gazed down into her eyes, his electric blue on her sparkling green, before he was too close to see them. "How is it," he whispered into her mouth, "that you have a place for a vampire to sleep?" She whispered into his mouth, "I knew you were coming."
At that, he flipped her down on the bed, where she bounced once or twice, watching him shuck out of his jeans. He was about to jump her, when she put up a hand in a "stop" gesture, and holding his eyes, she rolled over and got up on her hands and knees, presenting herself to him. He groaned, fixed to the spot by her glistening opening peeking out from the tail of his shirt. She twitched her bottom, inciting him to get on with it, and he stepped up to her. He barely pressed himself in her opening, holding himself there, savoring her growing impatience. Just when he thought she might speak, or move, he walked forward into her with teeth-gritting slowness. She mewed and he felt her arms quiver with the effort to hold her up. He went up on his toes, actually lifting her on his hardness until her knees came off the bed. Then he slowly let her down and backed out of her. He repeated his motions, inching in and up, down and back until she was clenching her fists in the covers and hissing through her teeth.
"Say it," Eric commanded her, but all he got was another hiss. He angled to bump her sweet spot and she gasped. "Say it!" he growled at her. And her elbows caved, dropping her face into the mattress as she cried, "Errrrrric!" and he thrust into her hard, harder, and they both came together.
Eric fell forward on top of her, and heard the air whoosh out of her lungs. "Damn you," Rio yelped into the bed before bucking him off her back. He rolled to the side and propped himself up on his elbow as she turned to face him. He swept her knot of hair back from her face, and said, "Did you know I was coming that time?"
Rio made an exasperated noise, pulled the duvet up over both of them, and nestled into his chest. "Damn you," she murmured sleepily. As his own heaviness dragged at him, he put an arm over her and answered, "Probably."