lace of her bra peeking up from under the silk of her blouse. It was a sight to put ideas in a man's head and Vincent found himself wondering what it would be like to run his tongue along the line of that lace and dip it between the generous curves of her breasts. He could imagine how soft and warm her skin would be if he tugged her top open and slid the lace down so that he could replace it with his hands. She would be full and ripe in his palms, the nipples hard little pebbles, eager for him to lick and suckle.
Jackie sighed and shifted in her sleep and Vincent forced his gaze away from that tempting area to let his eyes move further down her body. One of her legs was lying straight out along the couch, the other was half-bent at the knee and her skirt was twisted enticingly high around her thighs, revealing the tops of her stockings and more creamy white flesh above them.
Vincent swallowed thickly, fascinated by the sight. He had a sudden urge to drop to his knees and bend forward to run his tongue across the smooth skin along the top of her stocking. He could almost taste her salty flesh on his tongue and imagine the ripple that would go through her muscles were he to urge her legs apart and run his tongue further up her thigh...
Before he'd grown bored with sex, Vincent used to like to feed on the vein in the thighs of his women. He'd like to now. He'd like to kiss and caress Jackie. He'd like to drop to push her skirt up over her hips and duck his head between her legs. He'd enjoy pleasuring her as the blood sang in the veins next to his ears, rushing toward the spot he was lavishing with attention. Then, as she cried out with her pleasure, he'd turn his head and sink his teeth deep, plunging them into the vein and pouring his pleasure into her mind even as he took from her.
Jackie cried out and arched on the couch and Vincent blinked his fantasies away to peer down at her. Her breath was coming in little excited pants, her chest rising and falling quickly, her hands now curled into the cloth of the couch. More than that though, her legs were spread as if he had indeed knelt between them, urging them apart, and her body was bowing in sleep as if he was really doing the things he'd imagined.
Vincent blinked in surprise and began to back away from the couch as her breathing began to slow and her body to relax. He knew exactly what had happened. Damn. Her mind had been open in sleep and his thoughts had somehow slipped through into her dream world. She'd experienced it all as if he'd actually done it. Hell, his own body had reacted as if it had really happened. He had the mother of all erections poking his pajama bottoms out like a tent. It was a state he hadn't enjoyed for a very long time. All of it was something he'd never experienced before. He'd put thoughts and memories in people's minds of course, but never without intending to, never connecting to them in their sleep.
A little bewildered and befuddled, Vincent slipped from the room and headed upstairs. His shower would be a cold one, he decided.
"I don't think Tiny's too pleased to be left behind."
Jackie glanced at Vincent and then followed his gaze out the window as she started the rental car. Tiny stood framed in the light spilling out of the front door of Vincent's house in the growing dusk. With the light coming from behind, his face was cast in shadow and it was impossible to see his expression, but Jackie didn't have to see it to know what it was. His stiff stance in the doorway told her he was unhappy.
Shaking her head, she shifted the car into gear and steered up the driveway. "Yes, I know, and at first I planned on his coming, but then I realized Sharon and Lily had already been told he was your housekeeper. There's no reason you would bring your housekeeper to the office at the production agency. Your production assistant? Yes. Marguerite? Her too. But not your cook."
"I realize that," Vincent acknowledged. "I think he does too, but he's still not happy with it."
"Tiny's a worrier," she said with a