Ah, yes, Christian Young. One of my favorite, brooding, sexy vampires form a series written by Kathy Love. We find him living in a trailer park in West Virginia in self imposed exile, working on his hilarious 12-step program on “being human”, while looking delicious in jeans and t-shirts, buying too much crap from TV infomercials and driving his Porsche too fast while rescuing damsels in distress. He is certainly an undead piece of yumminess with pale blue eyes, perfectly mussed dark gold hair with streaks of pale blond running throughout and a body made for sin. I wouldn’t mind having him to “bump” in the night….meeeow!
Excerpt from Fangs But No Fangs by Kathy Love:
She tried to remain sensible, even though all she could seem to center on were his hungry eyes, the cling of his damp shirt to the muscles of his shoulders and chest. The lingering heat of his kiss on her lips.
“I-I don’t understand what you want from me, Christian.”
“I want to be with you. You’re the first thing I think of when I awaken. You’re the last thing I think of before I sleep. I’ve tried to stay away from you. God knows, I have. But I can’t do it. Your smile. Your sweetness. Everything abut you keeps drawing me back.”
Her insides quaked. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. But could she trust he wasn’t just giving her a line? Men knew the right things to say. They knew how to manipulate a woman into doing what they wanted.
“Jolee, say something.” His voice was uncertain, none of the self-assurance from earlier laced through the words.
“So, what do you want? What can you give?” She needed to hear exactly what he thought the rules of the relationship would be. He shook his head, looking oddly forlorn, like a bewildered child who didn’t know the answer, but knew it was very important.
“I don’t have a clue how to be a…boyfriend, but that is what I will try to be.” Again he looked miserable. “Jolee, I just want you.”
She studied him, trying to ignore the thundering beat of her heart. He looked truly wretched, as if he didn’t believe he could convince her of his sincerity. Finally, he looked away from her, his defeated expression telling her he truly believed he’d lost. That more than anything convinced her. She had to take a chance. She understood how he felt; she couldn’t seem to stay away from him either. She didn’t want to.
She caught his face, gently turning him to look at her. Her fingers shook as she stroked his wet cheek.
“I want you, too.” She whispered. She did want him, more than she’d even let herself believe.
“I just don’t know…” She shook her head. “I just don’t know if I can trust you. I’m scared.”
He caught her hand, holding her fingers. “I’m scared, too.”
“Have you been hurt?”
He closed his eyes, and she got the feeling his admission made him feel weak. Like he didn’t want to remember it.
She stroked his cheek, amazed at the smoothness of his skin. To her surprise, he nuzzled his cheek against her open palm as if he was desperate for her touch, for her compassion.
She stepped closer, holding his face between her hands. He opened his eyes, staring into hers. She saw desire in their depths, along with pain and uncertainty. All the same emotions that were in conflict inside of herself. Slowly, she lifted her head to kiss him. She didn’t want to feel the pain and uncertainty. She only wanted the desire. The closeness that desire could give them.
At first he remained motionless in her arms, and she simply caressed him with her lips, loving the moist softness of his lips in contrast with the strong line of his jaw under her fingertips. Thunder crashed above them, but unlike last time, neither one of them broke the kiss. Instead Christian’s arms came around her, pulling her tight against his chest. One hand cupped the back of her head, while the other splayed across the middle of her back.
He took control of the embrace, his lips sculpting to hers, powerful, sensual. His teeth nibbled at her bottom lip, and she moaned, finding the tiny nips infinitely erotic. Hot and raspy, his tongue traced the seam of her lips and she opened for him, her tongue mingling with this as they tasted each other’s moisture and heat. She moaned again. His kiss grew more passionate, more intense. An all-consuming embrace that promised nothing but more pleasure. Like he would tenderly devour her whole, and she’d never feel anything but absolute delight.
She moved her hands from his face, sinking one in his hair, the wet strands clinging to her fingers. The other hand gripped his shoulder, muscles rippling under her fingers as his mouth continued to consume her. Before she even realized it, Christian had walked her backward, her bottom hitting the cold, rain-drenched hood of his car. She jumped, a surprised noise vibrating in the back of her throat as the cold, wet metal touched the backs of her bare legs.
Christian broke the kiss, staring at her, disoriented, concern shadowing his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
“NO,” she assured him with a dazed grin of her own. She brushed a hand on the top of his car. “Cold.”
He started to step away from her, but she caught his shirt and pulled him back. A faint voice in the back of her mind told her this was going too fast. They needed to get to know each other better. They needed dates and chances to talk. They were out in the rain, for heaven’s sake! Then his lips returned to hers, and she was no longer listening.
His pelvis pinioned her against the car, his chest pressed tight against hers. The friction of their bodies created a burning heat that overshadowed any coldness. All she could feel was Christian. And nothing had ever felt better.
His fingers glided slowly down her sides. Exploring each rise and indentation of her ribs through her shirt, until those huge hands spanned her hips, holding her firmly. Then, without his lips leaving hers, he lifted her and set her on the hood of the car. His hips slid between her legs, keeping her from slipping down over the slick surface. She didn’t pause at the sudden shift. She just allowed her hips to cradle him, the rub of him so intimate against her, so excruciatingly thrilling.
His hands found the hem of her shirt and slipped underneath, long, strong fingers stroking over her skin until they reached her breasts.
He lifted his head, gazing at her intently as if waiting for her to tell him it was all right for him to continue. Her breasts ached. Her nipples strained, swollen and taught against her bra, begging for his touch. She didn’t even consider telling him no. Instead she guided his hands upward, gasping as his palms cupped the sensitive flesh.
He rasped his thumbs over and around her hardened nipples, pleasure swirling through her with each pass, each twirl.
“Oh my God, Christian,” she whimpered, arching against him as he squeezed her, teasing the oversensitized buds.
He frowned as if he wasn’t sure if her cry was one of pleasure. “Is that good?”
She nodded adamantly. How could this man not know that he was driving her mad? She wiggled against him, her body wanting more. More of his touch. More of him.
“I want to see you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I want to see the paleness of your skin. I want to know what color your nipples are. How they taste.”
Her breath hitched in her throat at his words. God, she wanted that, too. She was on the hood of a car, in the parking lot of her bar, in the rain – and all she could think about was his beautiful mouth on her bare skin.
“Yes,” she said, agreeing to anything he wanted to do to her.
Christian had no idea what he was doing. He was acting totally on instinct. And every instinct in his body told him he had to touch this woman. With his hands. With his mouth. He had to explore every inch of her.
He watched her, not wanting to do anything that didn’t please her, and he saw only desire darkening her coffee-colored eyes. Rain clung to her lashes, to her lips. He leaned forward and licjed the drops from her lush skin.
She whimpered, her legs squeezing his hips.
He groaned, too, his erection throbbing against her. This was madness, he knew it, but he couldn’t stop.
He carefully peeled Jolee’s T-shirt up over her head, dropping the wet garment onto the hood of his car next to her.
She sat before him all pale perfect skin. Her rounded breasts tilted upward slightly under the pink cotton of her bra, the shadow of her dusky areolas and hardened nipples visible through the wet material.
He stared, wondering if he’d ever seen anything as beautiful as this woman, rain-soaked, aroused, and waiting for his touch. He dropped his head, drawing one of those tight buds between his lips. She cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders, her hips grinding against his. He started to pull away, to be sure she was finding pleasure, when her desire swirled around him like the electrical snaps of the lightning above. He sucked harder and received another broken cry.
With amazement, her realized he could make her come with just his mouth on her breasts. It was a heady, powerful realization. Especially given he hadn’t pleasured a mortal in nearly two hundred years. Her arousal fueled his. He cupped a hand behind her head, then pressing her down on the silver metal. She held tight to his shoulders, pulling him with her.
Her lips found his, tasting him hungrily.
He lost himself in the thrilling sweetness of the kiss, until the touch threatened to drive him mad. He waited for the madness to trigger his hunger, but it didn’t. All he felt was intense desire, overwhelming and so fierce. And here he was feeling so damned proud he could excite her so easily. She had amazing power over him.
He pulled away and moved his hands back to her breasts, testing the shape of them in his palms. She writhed against him. He found the tiny clasp of her bra nestled in the valley of her breasts, and flicked it open. The scraps of material fell away, leaving her bare.
He caught her wrists, spreading her arms wide, and he simply looked at her. Eating up the wanton sight of her. Rain beaded like glittering jewels on the pale mounds, clinging to the rosy tips. He leaned forward and licked the droplets from her pink swollen nipple.
Her hands knotted in his hair, her body squirming against his, her hips bucking his. He slid his hands down her body to the button of her shorts. He tore his lips away from her beautiful breasts, watching her again as he worked the button undone.
She remained spread across the hood, watching him in return with heavy-lidded eyes. Her desire snapped around him, flicking at his skin, pleading for more. And he wanted to give her more. He wanted to give her everything.
He slowly worked open the zipper and he pulled down the shorts just enough to see her pink panties, and to slip his fingers down inside them. Jolee bucked wildly at the scant touch, his fingers just brushing the tight curls of her sex. He caressed her again, He had forgotten how a woman’s hair felt against his fingertips, springy and a little coarse. And how slick and smooth and hot the skin was just beyond.
He stroked her again, this time finding the bud nestled at the top of her sex. He started to swirl a finger around the tiny nub, testing how much or how little pressure to use, when Jolee rose up, pressing his hand between their hips, grinding against him.
“Oh my God,” she breathed against his neck, digging her fingers into his back. “Oh my God.”
She cried out, her muscles tensing. Just as her release began to scent the air, spicy and awe-inspiring, he felt the sharp edges of her teeth bite into his flesh.
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