Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between
“We don’t require sleep like you do,” he answered roughly. “It is only the sun we cannot venture into.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked innocently, knowing good and damned well what the answer was. I could see it in those striking multicolored irises.
He flipped me over and buried me beneath him, his eager mouth finding mine as his cool tongue moved past my lips, vanishing deeply inside. I grasped his back, fingernails raking in. He felt good pressed against me, and I remembered how close we came to crossing that elusive bridge between us.
“I won’t stop this time,” he warned. Breaking the kiss, he stared into my eyes. His expression was harsh as he fought to maintain control.
“I don’t want you to.”
He leapt from the bed in an agile movement, removing our shoes in a matter of seconds. He gently tugged the legs of my jeans. Pulling them from my hips, he tossed them to the floor, until all that remained were my black cotton panties and bra. I felt shy, but he didn’t give me the opportunity to become self-conscious. He returned to the bed faster than I could see.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” he promised, lowering his head to kiss my ear.
He blew into the canal, teasing the lobe with his teeth and tongue. His kisses drifted past the tender flesh behind my ear, down to my mark. He bit down. Sharp teeth and pure erotic bliss overcame me. My body thrashed, and I pressed my face into his chest, breathing him in, clutching his hair in my fists. He bit down again, using greater force, and my breath came out in spurts.
His lips descended, barely touching the skin, stopping at the hollow of my throat. He placed a kiss into the soft, sensitive flesh, raining affection along my collarbones. His mouth skimmed across my chest, his hands coming up to cup my breasts. His thumbs brushed across the nipples through the lace and the hot spasm in my stomach extended, soaking my panties in liquid heat.
“I’m taking this off,” he told me, reaching behind to unclasp my bra. I arched my back and he pulled the flimsy material away.
The cool air hit my bare skin just before his mouth covered an aching nipple. His fingers worked at the other breast, teasing the responsive area with his thumb and finger, rolling and pinching the taut flesh. I had never experienced anything so erotic in my life. Sounds caught in my throat as I pushed my head into the pillows, moving from side to side.
A desire flourished inside me, an emptiness that needed release. I moaned aloud, lifting my hips and raking my fingers into his shoulders. His tongue flicked and sucked in a repetitive motion, mirrored by the deliberate motions of fingers on the other side.
I couldn’t remain still. I felt hot and needy. I writhed under him, rubbing against the erection along the inside of my thigh. He released the nipple from his mouth and moved to the other breast, fingers working at the now wet, pebbled skin while his mouth teased and tormented.
He released my breasts, kissing each softly, and made a trail of kisses along my stomach. His tongue dipped into my belly button and I groaned, reaching for his plush blond hair and threading my fingers through it. He moved lower, pausing to graze his lips across each scar along my pelvis.
Fingers crept up to pull the panties from my body, easing them down each leg. His face continued past my hips and the first wave of unease overtook me.
“Wait,” I gasped, experiencing my first tinge of uneasiness.
“What’s wrong?” He paused with his fingers around the delicate bones of my pelvis.
“I’ve never…” I flushed. “No one has ever done that before.”
“You’ve never been with anyone like me before. Why should this experience be anything but new? Trust me, Rhiannon. I’ve been dying to taste you.”
He continued his chosen path, blond head going lower as I stared at the ceiling, trembling uncontrollably. His hands parted my thighs, his cool breath brushed the folds of sensitive skin, and his face descended.
I had heard stories about oral sex from women at the club; most of them swore they preferred it to the actual thing. I never understood what the fuss was about until I experienced the first touch of his tongue, parting me, exploring where no one had ever dared kiss before. Disco’s mouth settled over me and I sucked in air, making mewing sounds in my throat, arching my back and grasping the sheets in my fists. The pleasure was unbelievable, so good I wanted to scream.
“Disco.” I moaned his name, unable to remain still.
A pressure started to build in my stomach, a summit so close that all I needed to do was reach out to take it. Each flick of his tongue brought it closer, then closer. I clenched my fists, closed my eyes, and embraced the climax that was surfacing, wanting to know what waited for me at the other side.
I was almost there.
His tongue flicked my swollen clit and sent me over the edge. My body felt as if it exploded, becoming pure light. I thrashed with each new wave of pleasure that assaulted me, soft whimpers escaping my throat. I rode the high until it left my body limp and sated. A wave of euphoria swept through me and I stilled, lax and breathless.
“Delicious, like warm vanilla sugar,” Disco growled against my stomach, kissing the scars again, lavishing attention on each one.
He followed the same trail back up, returning to my breasts. His mouth latched onto a nipple and his fingers returned to the opposite side, leaving me gasping. His lips brushed against my sternum, kissed the hollow of my throat, and traced the curve of my neck. I moaned, hands on the contours of his back and shoulders. I pressed my face into his throat, breathing in his own tantalizing scent, pushing against him so that his skin would cool the hot flush spreading over me.
He stared down with adoring eyes, the blue depths shifting with each layer, the gold still visible but not as much as before as my sight no longer as strong or as viable.
“This is it, Rhiannon.” He kissed my lips reverently. “If you want to say no, the time is now. I will love you the rest of the day without taking that extra step if that’s what you want. I would love nothing more than to spend the morning tasting you.”
“No.” I shook my head, leaning up to kiss his neck, brushing my lips along his smooth skin. “I want you. I want this.”
“Then look at me,” he whispered hoarsely.
I looked into his eyes and felt him prodding at the core of my body. I trembled all over, hands and shoulders shaking as he eased into the welcoming liquid warmth created by his mouth and my arousal. His body still cooler, and therefore, easy to distinguish from my own.
He moved, carefully pushing forward. He was large and foreign inside my body, the more of him I took in, the greater the discomfort that intensified. I tried to relax, eager to experience this new brand of intimacy.
Suddenly, he stopped, glorious blue eyes expanding in surprise.
“You’ve never done this before.” He made it a statement, not a question.
“Is that a problem?” I felt my face burning again. I thought a girl was supposed to be embarrassed by having too many sexual partners, not too few.
“No, it’s not a problem. It’s an honor. One I’ve never been given before.” He kissed my forehead tenderly, and brought his hands forward to cup my face. “I swore I wouldn’t hurt you, and I’ll do my best to keep my word. Stay with me.”
He continued staring into my eyes as he moved forward again. I tensed at the odd inner burning, forehead creased. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, gasping softly. He stopped and retreated, giving me a moment before starting again. The burning returned and I breathed through my nose, tensing beneath him. He cursed and pulled away, pressing his lips to my neck.
His mouth settled over my mark, teasing the area with little nips. Heat surged beneath my skin as he bit down, bringing on that swamping erotic euphoria, and he joined us together in one hard thrust.
The pain was as intense as the orgasm that came with it. I screamed without sound, my voice box failing to work. He was buried deep within my body and I convulsed, burrowing my fingers into his skin, lifting m
y shoulders off the mattress. I turned my face into his shoulder, holding him tightly until the shudders subsided.
“Are you all right?” he whispered against my ear, remaining completely still.
“Yes.” I was barely able to speak, my body reeling from aftershock tingles.
He gave me a moment to become accustomed to the intrusion of his body. Then, pausing to touch his forehead to mine, he withdrew. When he slid back into the heat of my body, the sharp burning was replaced by a feeling of fullness. He buried himself completely inside me and released the breath he had been holding.
“Christ,” he groaned, throwing back his head. The light above surrounded him, framing his perfection for my eyes. “You’re so warm and tight. You feel wonderful, Rhiannon. Perfect.”
He started moving in a slow, steady rhythm, lowering his mouth to kiss me, caressing my face with his hand while moving in gentle exquisite movements. His practiced fingers grasped my hips, encouraging me to match his rolling thrusts. The delicious heat started to spread, rushing through my limbs until I mirrored each motion without his guidance.
“There you go,” he whispered huskily. “Come for me, Rhiannon.”
Trembling started anew. My body heated as my skin prickled. I squeezed his hips, acclimating to his rhythm and matching it. I reached for that explosive feeling once more, tumbling over as my body lifted and detonated yet again.
My loud moans were buried inside his mouth as he kissed me, moving harder and faster. His tempo increased, hands pressing roughly into my hips and holding them in place. Our bodies moved together in unison and I gasped into his mouth, my body complacent under him as he reached for his own version of heaven.
He thrust into my body in one sharp stroke, bringing himself into me until all I could feel was him, both inside and out. His entire body shuddered and I felt him pulsing within, a cool wetness spreading where we were joined. He groaned into my hair and blanketed my body like a brisk breeze.
Hoisting onto his elbows, he peered down with concern and worry. “Did I hurt you?” he asked softly.
“No, you didn’t hurt me. I’m wonderful.” I laughed through shallow intakes of air, pressed a fast kiss to his mouth, and fell back on the pillow. He relaxed, returning my smile. He lowered his head and kissed my throat, nuzzling my ear.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my mark. “You won’t regret it, I promise you.”
“Thank you for making it worth the wait,” I teased, biting my bottom lip as a smile formed. I could definitely see why people enjoyed the experience. I was already thinking about round two.
He slowly pulled himself from the heat of my body, lifting away and standing. My protests were silenced as he pulled me into his chest and took us across the room. Pushing open the door across from the bed, he carried me into the bathroom. Lights flickered and shrouded us, glowing brightly against the white tiled floors and wallpaper.
“What are you doing?” I asked anxiously, aware of our nakedness in the bright fluorescent lighting.
He opened the glass door and stepped inside. “I’m going to take a shower with you.”
A steady spray of water shot out from two different spouts on the adjoining walls as he fiddled with the levers with his free hand. He waited until the water was heated before lowering me to the ground. My bare feet touched the cold tile, and I crossed my arms over myself. Without my shoes, I only came to his chest. As if sensing my shyness, he pulled me into his arms and turned so the water streamed down his back and over our skin.
I glanced down at the trickle against my leg and gasped. I knew people often bled the first time, but not like this.
“What’s wrong?” He moved away and peered down.
“The blood,” I said weakly.
“I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” He pulled me back into his arms. “That’s me, Rhiannon. Our body excretes blood. It’s the source of our life, and it inhibits all our bodily functions.”
He pivoted so I was under the warm stream. Tilting my head, I allowed the water to cascade through my scalp, wet hair clinging to my back. The duel showerheads steamed up the space, fogging over the glass, giving the illusion of cover.
Disco reached past my head and pulled a clean cloth from the shelf inside the stall. He held it under the soft rain from the shower and ran it along my back in soothing, circular motions. He cleansed each surface thoroughly, taking extra care as he ran the cloth along the soreness between my legs. He was gentle, removing the traces of himself and my virginity.
Being with him like this felt more intimate then our time shared in the bedroom. When he finished with my body, he started on my hair, massaging the floral scented shampoo into the thick strands and helping me rinse it clean. Then, he embraced me in the shelter of his arms, his chin resting atop my head in the steaming shower. His hands teased the skin at my back, and I gripped his waist as we swayed back and forth in the stall.
I didn’t know what tomorrow held for either of us, but for the first time, I really didn’t care.
I was ready to start living again.
To hell with the consequences.
Chapter Twenty-Six
This is what it was like to be young and completely enamored. I felt as if a part of me remained behind when I climbed into the car and started my trek home. I didn’t want to leave and would have remained with Disco all day if I didn’t need things like a toothbrush, deodorant, fresh underwear, and clean clothes.
I made it to my apartment before eleven. Unlocking the door, I tossed my things onto the table. The answering machine was blinking and I pressed the button, listening to messages from Goose and Hector. Goose wanted me to call him when I got the message, and Hector informed me if I didn’t make it in on time the next day, I could find other gainful employment.
I cringed when I replayed the second message for clarity. If I wanted to keep my job, I had to put in some serious ass kissing effort.
I was starving, a ravenous appetite returning at a bad time. I still hadn’t been shopping, and the kitchen was empty. Digging through the cabinets didn’t help. I didn’t even have an emergency can of soup in the cupboard. I walked down the hall and into my bedroom, yanking off my sweater along the way. I would get some shopping done, call Goose while I was at the market, and after I brought everything back home, I’d go back to Disco’s.
I intentionally chose clothing Disco would approve of, deciding to wear the soft grey cotton sweater that fell to my hips and the tattered blue jeans I wore in high school. I slid on new underwear and quickly dressed before rushing to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
I was looking at myself in the mirror, affixing the clip to keep my French twist in place, when I recognized the face from Jacob’s vision. My reflection mirrored the horror I experienced with the epiphany. My mouth gaped and eyes grew wide. How could I have forgotten those jade green eyes and that dark skinned face? Jacob had said he was in a plain black suit, just as I’d seen him dressed after Jude Mason’s party.
I had looked the bastard dead in the eye.
Rushing into to the living room, I paced the circle formed by my recliner, sofa, and coffee table. I thought about the little boy held aloft in Max Starkey’s arms, and tried not to imagine what a vampire like Joseph would do if his parents were somehow involved.
Should I tell Disco? That would be the intelligent thing to do, and he would have to know eventually. Still, I couldn’t shake the image of the sick child from my mind, or the way his parents looked at him. He was just a kid. I couldn’t knowingly lead vengeful vampires to his doorstep.
I decided to call Goose. His home machine picked up and I disconnected before prompted to leave a message. I tried his cell with the same result, annoyed when it clicked over to voice mail. I left him a brief message, explaining he should call as soon as he could. Slamming the phone back into the cradle, I crammed my pockets with my keys, money, and cell, and started for the door.
I froze, hand on the knob.
/> There was something else I might need.
I returned to my bedroom and pulled down the little black box on the top shelf of my closet. My Ruger was already loaded and the extra magazine was full. I attached the holster to my jeans and slid the gun inside, placing the extra clip in my pocket. I had to dig out the manufacturer’s warranty papers to find my license. I shoved it into my back pocket and hoped like hell I wouldn’t need to explain why I was carrying a firearm.
I left my apartment and headed for the subway. I was anxious the entire trip, and made a conscious effort to keep my arms crossed and my sweater down so no one would notice the gun on my hip. When I came to my stop, I tried to picture the conversation I was about to have with Max Starkey. He had to know how dangerous this shit was, and I had to know exactly what the hell was going on.
I didn’t hesitate when I reached the glass doors that announced I’d found my realtor’s heaven, pushing on the lever and striding confidently inside. It was a nice clean space, not too frou-frou or uptight.
The receptionist looked up from her computer, her friendliness evaporating like water on hot summer asphalt when she got one good look at me.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Max Starkey.” I lifted my chin and smirked at her.
Her arrogance wavered ever so slightly. She couldn’t tell if I was legitimate or not. “May I have your name?”
“Janet Hamlin. Tell him Jude Mason introduced us. He’ll know who I am.” I kept a straight face. If this didn’t work, I was sure I could take Bertha Sue. Too bad I didn’t bring a box of Twinkies to distract her.
She lifted the phone to her ear and pressed a button, watching me the entire time. I considered picking my nose, just to see how she’d respond.
“Mr. Starkey? There’s a Janet Hamlin here to see you… She says a Jude Mason introduced you. Yes sir. I’ll send her in.” She informed me with a clipped voice, “He’ll see you.”