RockMySenses by Lisa Carlisle Page A

sort of
mutant vampire freak.”
    “I will never give up on you.” He took my hand and gazed at
me, imploring me to listen. “Don’t give up on you either. You’re a fighter. You
always have been. Your career was firefighting, for hell’s sake, before all
this happened.” He tilted my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes where I
found love and compassion. “Stay with me.”
     
    Allana
    Mike parked his black Jaguar in a driveway of a Cape Cod
house painted white with green shutters.
    “This is where you live?”
    It appeared normal for someone who sported plated armor
tunics while stomping on stage in giant boots and strumming an electric guitar
painted like a dragon. When I thought of the other women who must have come
here before me and experienced the same reaction, a pang of jealousy shot
through me. I quickly buried that emotion. What was the point? It would only
serve to undermine my plan of one hot night before I buried myself in my
business.
    “Mi casa.”
    “I thought there would be fire-breathing dragon statues or
something like that.”
    He grinned. “I like that idea.” He leaned over and kissed me
lightly on the lips.
    I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He
responded by devouring me with urgent kisses. Clutching his shoulder blades, I
pulled him onto me and we ended up spread across the front seat like a couple
of overheated teens.
    His hand covered my breast, caressing it. “I’ve been dying
to get you alone all night.”
    Heat built from his touch and traveled through me like
liquid fire. It had been so long since desire coursed through me like this. Not
since the last time we were together if I was truthful. “We’re alone now.”
    He slipped his hand under my dress, snaking up to my thong.
I moaned with pleasure from his touch.
    “You’re so wet.”
    “Because I want you,” I managed to say through choppy
breaths.
    Mike slid a finger under the thong seam and stroked my
flesh. “I want you too, babe.” He put one finger inside me and I pressed
against him to encourage him to explore farther.
    “I’m about to fuck you right here. I don’t care if any of my
neighbors see us,” Mike said in a low, throaty voice.
    “Oh God,” I replied, glancing up to see the windows fogged
with condensation. “I don’t care where we are. I need you.”
    Mike pulled away reluctantly, breathing heavily. “We’d be
more comfortable inside.”
    “Uh huh,” I replied, equally breathless.
    He touched his erection. “I’m hard as steel right now. I
need a moment before I bend you over in my driveway.”
     
    When we entered his house, I was greeted by a full-sized
knight statue by the stairs. “This is what I expected.”
    “I aim to please, mademoiselle.” He took off my coat and
hung it on a coat rack next to a black leather jacket. His eyes roamed over me
with undisguised desire.
    Before I stripped down and begged him to take me right
there, I took a deep breath to regroup and look around. To the right was a
dining room. I took four steps away from him and missed his closeness. A small,
round dining table with four chairs was dwarfed by a piano that took up most of
the room. “I didn’t know you played piano.”
    “My mom signed me up for lessons when I was in elementary
school.” He bridged the distance between us in two steps and rubbed his
forefinger down my cheek. “She’d read that kids with high math aptitude also
have a knack for playing piano. Complements each other somehow. Something about
the parts of your brain that are used.”
    His touch left me speechless. Recovering words, I asked, “Do
you still play?”
    “I can. But I stopped taking lessons in high school, once I
tried guitar.” His eyes darkened with a predatory glint, as if suppressing the
urge to capture me. “When you’re a teen, wailing on an electric guitar is a
more gratifying way to pound out your angst than on a piano.”
    He caught a lock of my hair and rubbed it between