Infamous: (A Bad Boy Romantic Suspense)

by Noir, Mila

  “I don’t recall. The ladies I was with were quite…distracting. We made a hasty exit and took our party elsewhere.”

  “I bet.” I thought about the escapades we’d been up to in just the past few days and suspected he’d done far more adventurous things than I could imagine. It was good thing we were just having fun or I’d be more than a little jealous.

  “If you look to your left, you’ll see the Eiffel Tower,” Dimitri said suddenly. I looked out eagerly, and my breath caught.

  I know it’s ridiculous, but it was beautiful in the dark. We passed not far from it and I was surprised by how intricate the metalwork was. It was lit up like a beacon in warm yellow-white lights, towering up against a deep blue sky. It stood out from the rest of the city, iconic, striking. My heart beat a little faster just looking at it.

  Dimitri was suddenly kissing me and I laughed.

  “What was that for?” I said, pulling back.

  “You looked so happy. I think I take some of these things for granted, I’ve been alive so long.” He kissed me again and I kissed him back. I was starting to actually like him and it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

  We arrived at Dimitri’s flat a little while later. I was expecting something like the castle, but it was sprawling and modern. Unlike the castle, it looked well lived in, in warm leathers and bold fabrics.

  It was the view, however, that was breathtaking. High above the city, it looked out over the sprawl of Paris like a perfect postcard. The Eiffel Tower glittered, the city sparked and glowed, and I suddenly understood why people envied the wealthy. This was some kind of life to have, anytime, anywhere.

  Dimitri showed me to his bedroom, not a guest space. He just assumed I’d be sleeping with him. I didn’t mind, though I did note the slightly tinted glass and automatic blinds that looked like they might seal tight enough to be a bomb shelter. I was already getting a little restless with the night life and it had only been a few days. I wanted to explore the city under the glory of the sun.

  “I had a few things picked up for you, clothes and the like. I figured you might be tired of the same few outfits.” He opened a deep cherrywood closet and I saw a row of mostly black and gray, except for one bright red garment. It looked like a dress. Everything was finely made, tailored even, from designers. I shook my head.

  “This feels a little too Pretty Woman,” I said.

  “What’s that?” Dimitri asked, brow raised.

  “A crappy movie a lot of people think is romantic. Millionaire guy pays a prostitute to pretend to be his girlfriend and he buys her a bunch of stuff while everyone treats her like a whore or a child.” He stared at me. “I might have…issues with it,” I finished, shrugging.

  “Sounds terrible. I didn’t mean to imply that I own you or anything. You’re not my pet,” he said.

  “Thank you. In that case, I will take the clothes and enjoy them, but give them back when this is all over. Except maybe this cardigan. I love the little rhinestones on the sleeves!” I said, holding it up and grinning.

  “There’s also a dress in here for tonight. There’s a big party at La Rose Morte tonight and I’d like to bring you along.”

  “The Dead Rose, seriously?” I pulled out the dress and stared. It was a dark red with a deep, plunging neckline, and a skirt in layers and layers of different shades of red silk. It was the kind of dress I would never pick out for myself.

  “All the women will be wearing red, the men black. I know it’s pretty obvious, but I promise, it’s fun. Oh, and there’s this.” He pulled out a mask covered in red silk roses and black lace.

  “It’s a masquerade?” I touched the petals. They were so soft.

  “In a way.”

  “Wait. Is this a…vampire masquerade?”

  “Well, there will be other vampires there. But also plenty of humans and other…folks,” he hedged.

  “I’m not going to ask. I can only handle the idea of vampires being real right now,” I said. “Will I be safe?”

  “Absolutely. The Arcanas throw a great party and they make sure everyone leaves exactly as they showed up.”

  “Okay, well, I guess I’ll go then.” This felt anticlimactic.

  We looked at each other for a while, not saying anything. It was awkward.

  “I’m going to take a bath,” I said.

  The bathroom was huge and the tub was like a mini pool. I felt suddenly out of place and weird. But I rallied, bubbled the hell out of it, and decided to enjoy myself.

  The water was so hot, nearly too hot, but I liked it. It felt good, like I was getting new skin. I washed my hair, rubbing my scalp, relaxing my shoulders and breathing in the scent of jasmine.

  I submerged myself for a minute, eyes shut, letting myself float in a warm world where nothing was complicated or weird or full of undead cuties I kept wanting to hump.

  When I came up, Dimitri was sitting by the tub, watching me. I’m not one of those girls who looks sexy with wet hair plastered to her head, and my skin was rosy from the hot water. I probably looked like a drowned rat, but eff it. It wasn’t my job to look glamorous all the time.

  “Come over here,” he said as he took his shirt off. I watched as his lean muscles were revealed, the sleek triangle of his stomach. I wanted to pet it. I moved over and sat on the little shelf inside the tub. I pulled the bubbles around me, blowing them off my hands, then putting some on my head and sticking my tongue out at Dimitri. He was slipping his pants off and I immediately felt less goofy. Especially when his exceptionally tight ass came into view.

  He slipped into the bath with me and I made him a hat of bubbles. It didn’t really make him look any less sexy, which I felt was unfair.

  “I think you probably missed some spots,” he said, moving towards me, a gleam in his eyes. He positioned me in front of him and began to soap my breasts.

  “I’m just being thorough,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Well, boobs are usually the dirtiest part of the body,” I said tartly. His fingers made firm circles, making me more aware of them with each stroke. I leaned back with a sigh and let myself float up.

  Dimitri’s hands roamed over my belly, kneading the round, plump skin.

  Then they dipped lower.

  “Your body is glorious,” he said in my ear, voice as warm as the water. “I love the feel of your skin against my fingers.” He stroked between my legs in excruciatingly slow, thorough circles. If I hadn’t already been flushed, I would have been blushing.

  “Being inside you is sweet torture.” He slid a finger inside and I made a soft sound. “And the noises you make. I could listen to them forever.” I groaned as his fingers tickled my cleft and circled my bud at the same time.

  I was suspended in a warm, pulsing world, weightless and made of desire. Dimitri took his time, working my body into a state where all I could think about how badly I wanted to come.

  And then I did, clenching, shouting, every nerve alive and singing.

  But before I could come back down completely, Dimitri had me by the waist, legs spread, and sliding me onto his hardness. It was not a position I’d ever tried before, and I leaned against him for support.

  We blended together, hard and soft, sleek and slippery, gliding hot and slow, then fast and deep. I came in waves and he held me firm. I felt him pump hard and come, groaning against my spine.

  “Thank you,” I said, turning around and kissing him a little crookedly. He smiled against my lips.

  “I try,” he said.

  Dimitri brought in a woman to do my hair, which was strange and indulgent and kind of awesome. She made it full and wavy and high, then swept my bangs to the side. The red streaks curled around my shoulders. She also made it glossy and shiny and it smelled vaguely like oranges.

  The dress hugged my body in a way I felt a little self-conscious about. But I couldn’t deny: I looked good. I might be “full-figured,” but damn, I could really work some cleavage with the right lingerie.

 
I kept my makeup simple, red lips and winged eyeliner. When I came out, Dimitri was standing by the windows, illuminated just a little with the glow of the city. When he turned I sighed, because he was beautiful. He was wearing a tailored suit in a deep black with a dark red tie. The white of his shirt gave his skin a bit of color in comparison, and his hair was shiny and perfect. Of course.

  “You’re lovely,” I said. He was looking at me with serious eyes but didn’t say anything.

  “I know, it’s not really me. But I love it,” I said and twirled, now worrying that something was wrong with how I looked. When I turned around again, he was close, sweeping me into his arm for a deep, hard kiss.

  “Whew! What was that for?” I said, laughing.

  “You’re stunning. Everyone is going to be jealous,” he said, voice low and husky.

  “Oh. Thank you.” I blushed. I know, I know. I’m bad with compliments, okay?

  The ride to the party wasn’t long and we didn’t say much. Even though we’d had our little romantic moment in the flat, he seemed distracted. Worried almost. That made me nervous.

  The building was old and grand, with balconies and two spindly towers. A warm orange-pink spilled out from every window. The entryway was gilded, as resplendent as what I imagined Versailles must have looked like at its height.

  The party was already in full swing when we got inside. I put my mask on and saw that Dimitri’s was a bat. Because of course it was. There was a full orchestra, and people were dancing, talking, eating and drinking. Many people came up to Dimitri, speaking lots of languages and eyeing me with curiosity. I grabbed some champagne and a little delectable shaped like a flower. It tasted like sweetness and light.

  I watched Dimitri mingle and gradually forget I was there. My bravado had evaporated after being there for half an hour and realizing I didn’t fit in even remotely. These people were clearly elite, with lives I couldn’t relate to at all. Plus, I’d been snubbed by at least two groups of people in French and German.

  I became a wallflower, eating snacks and drinking wonderfully bubbly champagne. I people-watched and tried to guess who was actually people and who was undead. The tipsier I got, the more my private little game became fun.

  Dimitri was nowhere to be seen, so I wandered out to a balcony. The city was beautiful and I sighed. I hadn’t seen much of it yet and I was beginning to doubt I would. Meanwhile, my fate was going to be decided by a group of monsters I couldn’t talk to.

  I felt someone behind me and prepared a snarky remark for Dimitri and his promise of a fun time.

  Only it wasn’t Dimitri. The man standing in the entrance to the balcony was taller, for one thing. And his shoulders were broader. He had short dark hair that was graying at the temples in a decidedly distinguished way. I couldn’t make out his face; he had a gray wolf mask on. He did, however, have exceptionally blue eyes and a stern-looking mouth.

  “You are Emma,” he said in a pommy, distinctly upper-class British accent. His voice was like warm tea and honey.

  “Er, and you are?” I said. Maybe he was a friend of Dimitri’s.

  “Lord Robert Ellory. At your service.” And then he bowed. He actually bowed.

  “Er, thanks? Is there something I can do for you?” I said, wanting to be back inside. The man hadn’t moved, but his presence took up the entire balcony. I was also pretty sure he was a vampire. He just…had that look.

  “Possibly. We’ll have to see,” he said.

  “Okay, well, great. Look, this has been stunningly terse and oblique but I want to find Dimitri and go home. It’s been a real pleasure.” I started towards the party, but he didn’t move. There was no way around him and I seriously doubted I could push past.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that. You need to come with me,” he said.

  “Uh, no, I don’t. I don’t care if you’re the oldest, most uber vampire to have not lived. I’m not putting up with this shit anymore.” I was angry. And to my surprise, he laughed.

  “I am definitely not the oldest vampire,” he said.

  “Well, good for you. I’m still leaving.” And I made the mistake of trying to push past him. It was like trying to move a three-ton boulder.

  “I appreciate this is difficult, but you don’t have a choice. But I will escort you to Dimitri. He’s waiting for you in the chamber.”

  “Super,” I said, giving up. We walked past the party and through a few corridors that were eerily quiet.

  Then Robert opened a door into a large chamber, somber and gray, like a tomb. Eight pale faces stared at me as I came in. In the middle of floor was Dimitri, looking very angry.

  “Uh, hi?” I said.

  “This isn’t right,” Dimitri started.

  “Quiet, Blackstone. You know we have to do this,” Lord Robert said. I looked back and forth. It was clear they didn’t like each other. The council remained still, like statues.

  “Do I? Why don’t you explain to Emma, then, how you’ve all decided she’s going to become a vampire or have her memory erased and see how that goes,” he said.

  “WHAT???”

  See, this is why you shouldn’t wish for an interesting, adventurous, life. It always goes to shit.

  Part 2

  The ride home from the party was one of the most awkward of my life. And by awkward I mean fraught with anger, disbelief, and seething hatred. But quietly. I couldn’t figure out how to express my feelings without incoherent screaming.

  Dimitri was equally silent, but he was also aggravatingly relaxed, sitting across from me with his legs sprawled out and his eyes closed as though he was just too worn out from all the partying to keep them open. I wasn’t fooled, though. His hands were clasped over his belly and I could see that the knuckles were nearly white from his grip. He was just doing a not-quite-convincing impression of a chilled-out, utterly cool vampire dude without a care in the world.

  Meanwhile, the addition to our little ride, Lord Robert Ellory, was the picture of prim aloofness. He sat, one long leg over the other, barely creasing his immaculate suit. His mask was still in his hand, and he moved it gently between long, tapered fingers. He didn’t seem calm so much as collected. Reserved. In complete and utter control. This was a guy who probably alphabetized his bookcases and kept his suits coordinated by shade. His movements, when he made any, were economical, contained. No waving hands, no grand gestures. When he spoke, his accent was smooth, deep, and he never, ever raised his voice. He didn’t speak without carefully considering each word.

  I wasn’t sure what I thought about Robert. Dimitri was easy. Sort of. He was extremely good-looking, clearly a “casual hookup” sort of vamp, and the kind of vampire who fully embraced what he was. He wasn’t a brooding, tortured soul. He was charming, easy-going, and completely unreliable in the long run. I had him all figured out. I hoped.

  Robert, on the other hand, was…well. I really didn’t know. We’d only met that night and he clearly wasn’t overly fond of Dimitri. They were sitting like two generals eyeing each other from across a battlefield where a truce had recently been struck. Everything was uneasy and tense, with all the appearance of calm and none of the actual, you know, calmness.

  And then there was me. Sitting across from two vampires, driving through Paris, a city I’d always wanted to see, wishing I was anywhere else. My life, which had always been boring, was now unbelievably complicated. Like actually unbelievable, to a mythical degree.

  I was ruminating over the council meeting, one of the most surreal experiences I’d ever had—and I had taken an ill-advised art history class on Dali once. I’m still not sure I fully recovered just from reading his letters, let alone the melting clocks. His work had left the lasting impression that I should stay far away from hallucinogens and assholes. I liked things to be more straightforward. Simple. Clean.

  Or did I? Because as fucked up and weird and completely insane as things had gotten, I was starting to find it all…exciting. Which was dangerous. Being a “person of interest�
� to vampires seemed like the opposite of what any sane person would want. Mostly because being “interesting” to vampires was probably inevitably fatal. I was, after all, technically food.

  Maybe that was what I liked. Maybe being so “safe” my whole life had led me to this exact moment, with two vampires, in a swanky limo in Paris. Maybe some part of me craved danger and the ever-present threat of a bloody, messy death.

  “I think that went rather well,” Robert suddenly said, looking at me with a neutral, closed expression.

  “Yeah, it was really swell. I absolutely loved having my entire future decided by strangers who are also monsters who shouldn’t exist,” I said sourly.

  “Feeling sorry for yourself won’t solve anything,” he said. I flushed.

  “Maybe not, but I have the right to be pretty pissed right now. It’s not like I asked for any of this.” I knew I was being kind of childish but I didn’t care.

  “Neither did we,” he said gently. And I suddenly realized that I’d been assuming everyone was a vampire by choice. Some of the clans were run like families, but no one was really related. I didn’t know anything about how either Robert or Dimitri had ended up fanged.

  I sat there for a while feeling like a bit of an asshole. Robert was right. Feeling sorry for myself wasn’t going to change anything, and I had to start dealing with reality the way it was, even if it was fucking weird. I hadn’t asked for any of this, hadn’t asked to find Tasha in that alley about to become a snack, but there it was. And I was lucky to be alive. For now.

  “How long have you known Dimitri?” I asked, noticing the way his lips twitched into a slight smile when he heard his name mentioned. Yeah, sleeping my plump white butt.

  “Oh, only about three hundred years or so.”

  “Ah. Practically strangers, then?” I lifted a brow. Robert finally cracked a smile.

  “When it comes to Dimitri I’ve found that a few centuries have barely cracked the surface.” Robert looked out the window. His profile was really lovely, strong, with a prominent nose and jaw. His dark hair with just a touch of silver shimmered slightly in the low light. Dimitri started snoring. It wasn’t terribly convincing to either of us.