Chapter Eight

Now, that's what you call irony.

Crawling toward each other across a smooth expanse of white leather sounds a lot more romantic than it is. Really we just kind pitched forward and latched together. Our tongues worked furiously in between us while we awkwardly maneuvered into position.

We ended up with Ira on his back, legs out in front of him, me in-between them pressing our hips together as we kissed. Eventually I had to pull back to breathe, and Ira copied, panting for air he didn’t really need.

“Right here in the parking lot?” He asked.

I tipped a shoulder. “Place isn’t busy and your mom seems smart enough to leave well enough alone.”

Ira huffed out a small laugh.

“Besides,” I added nonchalantly as I scooted down his body, “the windows will fog up in a minute. Won’t see a thing.”

“You twisted my arm,” Ira said as I worked his belt buckle. I rolled my eyes fondly but didn’t reply.

I finally got his belt open, and pulled down his zipper. He was wearing some cute fashion-tight trunk underwear. I laughed, and rubbed the bulge of him through them.

“You’re so gay,” I said.

He bucked his hips. “Yeah, like yours looks any straighter.”

I turned my voice husky. “What makes you think I’m wearing any.”

Ira moaned and I felt his dick pulse beneath my hand. I grinned. For a vampire he seemed awfully vanilla. I’d never corrupted a vampire before. The idea wasn’t entirely unappealing.

When we’d been in the alley, I hadn’t really got to see much of him, so I pushed up his shirt. His belly was smooth and long and perfect, muscles just chunky enough to look hot without being over defined. I dipped forward, scraping my teeth along the planes of his abs.

“Holy fuck!” Ira shouted, arching upward.

Grinning, I peeked up at him. “You like that, huh?”

“Guh?”

Chuckling to myself, I leaned in to do it again. Ira moaned this time, his lip clenched between his teeth to stave off his yells. My fingers worked in the hollows of his hips, pressing and rubbing against his porcelain-smooth skin.

After I’d worked my teeth across every can in his six pack, and he was babbling incoherently, I needed to taste him instead. His hands came down to clamp around my head as I lapped around his belly-button. Even though our heat had warmed the air up around us, there was still something cool about his skin. It…tasted cold, like the air after a rain, or a breeze at midnight. There was something kinda spicy, too, that I assumed was his body wash.

Ira’s fingers stroked against my hair as his hands followed my head around. I licked the outline of his muscles, then came back and twirled my tongue inside his navel.

“Regan,” he breathed, “I…I need…I’m not gonna last long.”

Getting the picture, I worked his jeans down his hips a little. The tip of his cock got stuck on the waistband of his underwear, and as I pulled them down it snapped up against his stomach. I really shouldn’t have found the sound as hot as I did.

I took him in my hand for the first time, enjoying the feel of him in a way I hadn’t been able to before. He was very respectably hung, and I wondered if it was a vampire thing—but I quickly pushed that thought away before it killed the mood.

“God,” I said, breathing hotly across him. “This was inside me. I want it inside me again, in my mouth this time.”

A long groan escaped from Ira as I stroked him slowly and firmly. I tipped my head to rub his shaft against my cheek, to feel how smooth and hard he was.

“Regan.” His voice was high and tight.

To relieve myself, I unbuckled my jeans and sighed with relief as the pressure eased. Then, taking pity on Ira, I licked up him in one long swipe. He cried out hoarsely, not even making any words. I went a little lower, nuzzling and lapping at his balls. They were as smooth and perfect as the rest of him.

My right hand snaked down the front of my jeans, and I pulled my own cock out. This had reached the point where I was torturing myself as much as Ira. Gripping around the base of his dick with my other hand, I pointed him towards me and sucked just the head into my mouth.

Ira’s hands tightened on my head, his fingers threading through my hair. I stilled, letting him process. But then I grew impatient, and pushed down. His fingers convulsed, but he let me move. He moaned as I hummed in satisfaction. I worked my tongue against the underside as I slowly took him into my throat. The position wasn’t perfect, I was kinda crouched on top of him, but it would work.

Some people just think of oral sex as foreplay, not an act in and of itself. I was not one of those people. The feeling of Ira’s length inside my mouth was…Well, it wasn’t any kind of cherry pie, that was for sure, but the feeling didn’t exactly suck…Well…Ah, hell. I like giving head, okay? And my nose brushing against his stomach, his hardness completely sheathed inside me was a fantastic feeling. My whole body thrummed with it.

I swallowed and Ira’s hands nearly took on bruising force as my throat muscles fluttered around him. So I did it again. Pulling back, I made more noise down in my throat. Before he could recover from the vibration, I slammed back down on him.

“Oh, God!” he screamed.

His hands tried to tug me up. I made protesting noises and wouldn’t let go.

“Regan, you gotta, I’m gonna—”

With a jerk he was coming, and I swallowed it down eagerly, my fist working overtime on myself. My moans, muffled by Ira’s dick down my throat, were still pretty loud as I pumped my own completion out into my hand.

Ira started to soften after a minute, so I pulled back, licking my lips in satisfaction.

“God,” Ira huffed weakly, “if I hadn’t just came that would have done the trick.”

I grinned at him, then showed him my palm. “Um, got a Kleenex?” Drinking it hot from the tap, so to speak, was one thing, but cold and congealing in my hand didn’t do a lot for me.

There were some in one of those harness things that straps to the back of the seat. After I’d wiped down, I asked, “Where should I…”

He flapped his hand in a lazy gesture. “Just drop ‘em. I’ll get it later.”

Shrugging, I tossed them on the floorboard. I tucked him back into his trunks, then scooted forward so my legs weren’t cramped against the window. Ira stroked my disarrayed hair absently as I laid my head on his chest.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Ira sighed.

I couldn’t help my startled laugh.