A Touch Too Much

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A Touch Too Much Page 4

by Chris Lange


  “A friend in trouble. He needs a hand.”

  Peals of laughter escaped Sandra’s lips, and creased her forehead. “I’m sure he does.” As if a funny idea had crossed her mind, she added with a hint of glee, “Is his wife jealous? Is she going to storm in here?”

  “Look, Sandra, it’s not what you think. I can’t explain now, but I promise I’ll tell you everything later.”

  “Are you going into his room?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  Mirth barely controlled, Sandra held up her hands. “Okay, okay, it’s not what I think it is. Listen, I’m off at three today. Tom’s doing the afternoon shift. Come round if you want a little chat.”

  Although Sandra seemed to be having great fun, Liv felt sure she could count on her. After almost ten years of close friendship, neither of them had ever let the other one down.

  “Thanks for everything, Sandy, you’re a good friend. I may drop by later, but we don’t want to be disturbed this morning. It’s been a long, tiring night. I’m beat, and rest is in order.”

  Eyebrows raised, Sandra displayed another grin of complete understanding. “Sure, darling, enjoy your nap!”

  Only in front of the motel bedroom did Liv realise the innuendo in Sandra’s words. Shaking her head, she let herself in.

  Rogan had already drawn the heavy drapes shut, cutting himself off from the bright, glorious rays spreading from the east. The room was cloaked in darkness but not so much that Liv couldn’t well discern his silhouette stretched out on the big double bed—one bed only.

  Did he usually sleep during the day? For that matter, did he sleep at all? His golden eyes following her every move as she dropped her bag on the nearest chair. Liv succumbed to the relentless question circling her mind. What are we going to do now?

  Chapter Seven

  Rogan’s intense gaze never left her. Liv felt nervous, also weary and unclean. As he didn’t say a word, she went to the bathroom, in need of a long shower. The hot water soothed her tension, and helped clear her mind. She wanted to ask Rogan so many questions she didn’t know where to start, the main one being what was going to happen.

  Drying off, she felt much better although still tired. Small wonder her face looked pale when she glanced in the mirror. Too bad! She stepped into the bedroom, intending to have a small rest. The thought of dressing in her rumpled clothes didn’t appeal to her in the least. But when Rogan saw her come out of the bathroom with only the towel coiled around her, he sat up straight, features strained.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Getting ready for bed. Come on, scoot over. Make room for me!”

  Was it her mischievous tone or her attitude that left him speechless? Whatever the case, he just watched her closing the distance. Only when she had almost reached the bed did he react.

  “Don’t!”

  “What’s wrong?” Liv spoke as if walking around wrapped in a bath towel was the most natural thing in the world. “Oh, you mean, my new outfit! You don’t mind, do you?”

  Frustration and anger fought for dominion on his harsh features. He pointed to the bathroom door. “Go get changed!”

  Dear God, how she enjoyed watching his distressed face. Shaking her head, she took another step towards the bed. “What’s the matter, Rogan? You aren’t attracted to me anyway.”

  Although she didn’t see him move, he was suddenly standing next to her. Taking her arm, he carried her along to the bathroom. “Damn it, woman, I’ll teach you manners!”

  Swept along, Liv had no choice but to loosen her grip on the towel. As it fell soundlessly on the floor, the vampire halted. He let go of her arm, his dark eyes devouring her nakedness. Breath caught in her throat, heart racing, she felt split between fear of his sudden stillness and excitement at being contemplated in such a spellbinding way.

  “Hell…no!” he heaved.

  She was crushed against his body. His kiss urgent and demanding, he consumed her with his mouth while he ran his hands over her back, over the roundness of her buttocks. Holding her waist, Rogan bent down to trace searing stripes with his tongue, from her neck down to her breasts. He slowly licked her nipples, compelling them to rise, compelling them to stiffen under his erotic touch. He sucked, fondled, and tasted her skin, using both lips and hands to arouse her erect buds.

  Sucked in a whirlpool of drifting and staggering sensations, Liv had never felt so intensely desired. His caresses driving her wild, she hung on to him, to this powerful man who carried her towards her most savage fantasies. In a flash, he laid her down on the bed.

  Rogan sat beside her. He trailed his hands all over her body, his eyes riveted to her nudity. He caressed her as if she was a long-awaited treasure, a beautiful pearl to be cherished.

  “Rogan, I want to see you.”

  Their eyes met. Liv could see a barrier in his, a careful protection from a concealed menace. She didn’t move, simply held his gaze. A man and a woman bound by the most natural law of the universe.

  Then he seemed to make up his mind. He stood up and undressed to reveal his muscular body, to display his beautiful, arrogant craving for her.

  Keeping her voice soft, eyes riveted on his hard-on, she raised her hand. “I want to touch you.”

  His body covered hers. Hungry, they united their mouths in a long, sensual kiss. Liv stroked his back, feeling rock-like muscles under her fingers. She lazily explored his skin, the luscious sensation of his manhood pressing on her belly. When her nails bit into the firmness of his buttocks, a quiver coursed through him.

  He groaned. A true male, he shifted his body, wanting domination. She was ready for him, feeling his hardness brush against her thighs, moving to her humid opening, fondling the delicate flesh with agonising slowness, holding back to the point where her need became an obsession, where she moaned to be roughly possessed.

  Overwhelming hunger gnawing at her raw senses, Liv coiled her legs around him. Following her instinctive move, he braced himself and pushed his head in her neck.

  “Please, Rogan. Oh, please!”

  At the sound of his whispered name, his whole body tensed. Abruptly, he rolled away from her to bury his face in the pillow. Although muffled, his words rang clear.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t. Not with you.”

  Numbness overcame her, like a defensive shroud safeguarding her mind from intense frustration, intense rejection, intense emptiness. Yet, above all this, she felt extremely hurt. Too hurt for blame. Much too hurt for anger.

  After a silent minute, he got up and put his pants on. No words would come out of her mouth when he turned round and watched the tears flowing down her cheeks. She must’ve been the very image of pain because the sight of her torment seemed too much for him to bear. On impulse, he knelt by her side, taking her hand in his. He looked distressed by an inner affliction he was dying to soothe.

  “We can’t do this.”

  Liv pushed his hand away. His mere touch inflaming the hurtful dismissal that couldn’t be quite shaken off, she covered herself up with the sheet, and closed her eyes to blot him out. The tears wouldn’t stop. But she had to observe him through her eyelashes.

  He clenched his fists, stood up and started pacing the room. The way he moved gave her the impression he felt completely at a loss.

  Sighing, Liv opened her eyes. “Tell me.”

  He didn’t have to ask what she wanted to know, did he? No, he had gone too far this time. Yet he looked reluctant to speak the truth. Why? For fear of devastating her? For fear of losing her? That didn’t make sense.

  “Tell me now.”

  “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Making love to you would achieve exactly that.”

  “Why? I’m not made of glass.”

  “Because…” Rogan faltered. Pausing by the edge of the bed, he looked at her in a funny way. Like he feared she was about to flee? Sure, she couldn’t figure out his odd attitude, but she wouldn’t allow him to avoid a straight ans
wer. She wouldn’t falter.

  “Have you ever been with a human before?”

  He nodded.

  “Did you hurt her?”

  “No.”

  He resumed pacing the room, his trouble obvious. His dread for what could happen to Liv hardly disguised.

  “So why would you hurt me?”

  “Those women were different from you. They were just women I had sex with, and I never felt compelled to be with them. Well, not like with you. If I did, I’d have sent them away. I always assumed women to be the same, but I was wrong. You’re special. You are the Bringer of Death.”

  “Do you think I could kill you?”

  Palms up, Rogan shrugged. “If our ancient legend is to be believed, your touch is lethal. I guess you could.”

  There they were again, back to his obsession with a ridiculous Bringer of Death. So far and in spite of their touching each other, Liv hadn’t killed him. As a matter of fact, she had saved him.

  “How come I healed you then?”

  “I’m not sure but I believe it’s because your blood is pure. You’re one of a kind.”

  Eyebrows raised, curiosity piqued, Liv sat up, sheet tightly tucked under her armpits.

  “For real?”

  “Never mind that.” He dismissed her question with a quick wave. “Your touch isn’t what I’m wary of.”

  Liv tensed. Watching his dark brows and stiff body, she had the sudden, uncanny feeling that what was coming would shatter her dreams, her illusions, possibly her life.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Are you sure you really want to know?”

  “I’m listening,” she insisted. If she had told him she was an alien god masquerading as a woman, he wouldn’t have looked more disheartened.

  He complied. “Suit yourself.” Rogan sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes were mesmerising, golden freckles shining in black liquid.

  “It’s powerful, it’s compelling, and it’s irresistible. It’s a violent impulse we cannot fight. Twice with you I’ve tried to restrain it, but it’s much stronger than I am. Twice I have failed.”

  He extended a finger to her face, the simple gesture bringing into play the sleek muscles of his shoulders and arms. “You are so beautiful, so adorable. I know full well you’re my doom, and I don’t care.”

  His thumb touched her lower lip, his eyes fixed on her. As if he couldn’t be stopped, the words flowed out of his mouth. “I want to take you in my arms, to kiss you long and hard, to touch you like you’ve never been touched, to give you the pleasure I feel running in your veins. If only I could do all those things, I don’t give a damn what befalls me. But I swear I will never harm you.”

  Listening to the rise of his tone, Liv sensed the time for revelation had caught up with her. Although caution should have been foremost in her mind, she was hooked on his every word.

  “In the heat of passion, vampires bite each other.”

  It came back to Liv in a rush. When she had whispered his name, when she had almost asked him to take her, he had sunk his head against her neck. And she had felt two pin-pricks on her skin.

  Those had been his fangs.

  Chapter Eight

  Liv slept for the better part of the afternoon. Stunned by Rogan’s revelation, she had needed time to absorb it. She had dressed and gone out for a bit of fresh air before coming back to nibble at some sandwiches and snacks from the vending machine. Afterwards in the stuffy, dark, tightly sealed motel room, they had both fallen asleep.

  When she woke up, the day had to be kissed goodbye. Rogan sat in the single armchair, watching her, awake, alert, and handsome beyond belief. Liv straightened up and placed a pillow behind her head. Despite everything that had gone on, sleep had rested her mind and body.

  “What time is it?”

  “There’s still an hour till sunset.”

  Good. A full hour should be sufficient to hear the rest of the story. Rogan hadn’t yet told the whole tale, but would the end upset her as much as the beginning? Time to listen and see.

  “Tell me about your race.”

  “Vampires used to be humans. It is said in our ancient prophecies that God turned a man into the first vampire to punish humanity for its sins. As a result he was condemned to feed on his own former kind for eternity. Never to see the sun again. He roamed the Earth for a long time, alone, drinking from his prey to survive, and killing them. One night, he got careless. He fed on a human, and left her for dead. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite dead. The next day, she had become a vampire.”

  “That’s impossible. I’m not an expert, but it’s common knowledge humans don’t turn into vampires unless they also drink their blood. Well, that’s what I’ve always heard anyway.”

  Rogan smiled dismally. The muscles of his arms tensed as he leant forward to shake his head. “Believe me they do.”

  “How?”

  “A toxic fluid in our fangs. When we bite, it seeps into the blood. If we don’t kill the prey, the deed is done.”

  Gross, so gross. A little disgusted, Liv didn’t need a movie screen to picture the pain and terror some humans had had to endure in the past. Yet, if creating vampires proved that easy, there should have been millions or billions of them around. All things considered, humanity should already have been eradicated. So, what had gone wrong?

  “Does it mean a new race was begotten?”

  “When the number of vampires increased, humans became conscious of their existence, and of the subsequent danger to them. Various inaccurate accounts were told, later written, evolving into myths with the passing of time. You know, myths are usually true but rarely right.”

  “What happened then?”

  “The vampiric population grew and grew to the point where war was unavoidable. We may have great speed and strength, but humans possess something very special indeed—stubbornness. They quickly understood we were immortal, but not invincible. By sheer force of arms and will, they drove the vampires out of this world. No prisoners. They slew many, and banished the rest into a place we call the Overworld.”

  That must’ve been where Rogan had come from, the other universe he had mentioned once. Although Liv would have loved hearing all about this mysterious Overworld, she knew they may not have time.

  “I’m guessing no humans escorted vampires over there, so how did they feed?”

  “First, councils were constituted. As the Dividing War had taken a heavy toll on both sides, humans and vampires made a truce. Besides, the Formula had just been invented, so they agreed that a portal between our two worlds was to be left open to ensure the survival of my race.”

  “A portal? Who created it, and how?”

  “I’m afraid this knowledge has been lost with time, at least on your side. Although we need to keep it open, strict rules were dictated. Only hunters and warriors were allowed through the portal once a month by way of a transportation device.”

  Raising his arm, Rogan showed her the watch on his wrist. Liv recognised the peculiar object at first glance.

  “Khord has the same watch. I heard it in the parking lot, and also at home. Why did it beep?”

  “Because I’d spent him. He was drained. The laws of nature are somewhat different in the Overworld. We are bound to these rules, just like you’re tied to your laws. Here we’re less efficient, and prone to weakness. The watch is also an alarm to tell us when it’s time to be refreshed.”

  “What’s that?”

  “An immersion in a tank of Formula. Even diluted, human blood is still a source of great strength for us. Actually it works like a battery, and a few hours in the tank are usually sufficient.”

  Okay. If Liv had her facts right, vampires fed on a drop of blood every now and then, mostly stayed in their Overworld dens, and needed to rush home for a check-up and a long soak when their watches rang. Interesting! Yet the handsome vampire by her side didn’t appear to abide by the same rules. What was different about him?

  “Rogan, you’ve been in my worl
d for almost twenty-four hours. You don’t seem to need refreshing.”

  “I never do. I don’t know why—it could be a flaw of nature or a very rare disease in the vampire ranks. Our scientists have been researching my case, and they haven’t found out the cause either.”

  Like she was supposed to be different, could Rogan be special in his own way? After all, her touch should have killed him, not saved his life. As much as the idea needed some pondering, Liv wanted to know more about the brute who had trashed her apartment.

  “Khord came after me. Do you mean he’s a hunter?”

  “No, he’s a warrior assigned to protect his partner if need be. Warriors and hunters always pair off when it’s time to cross over and find nourishment. I got Khord yesterday, not my lucky day!”

  His face remained impassive as he stated the obvious. Without pause he went back to the subject at hand.

  “After the truce, we needed some kind of order so the council established a system resulting in three divisions—the civilians, the warriors, and the hunters who can specialise in tracking.”

  “I’m amazed. I had never heard about all that. I find your story very hard to believe, even if the war occurred a long time ago.”

  “The knowledge has been either lost or forgotten because the human mind doesn’t like, let’s say, complications. It’s much easier and more convenient to keep believing vampires are nothing but fictional characters.”

  He might’ve been right. Another universe filled with blood-suckers purchasing walking food did seem frightening. Wouldn’t it be so much better to deny it, and to forget about it after a while? Probably, but the forgetting didn’t solve in the least her immediate problem.

  Every time he moved, Rogan reminded her of a solitary hunter, a dark animal ready to pounce on prey. His very animality aroused her way more than any man ever had, and keeping his sex out of her mind was getting more difficult with each passing hour. At the cost of startling him, she had to make him understand she didn’t fear him.

 

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