by Kate Hill
Inside Richie stood in the kitchenette, mashing potatoes. Ruby’s beau, Hagen, a world famous magician, sat at the dinner table, chopping vegetables for salad.
The men exchanged greetings while Greg joined Richie in the kitchen area and Ruby sat at the table with Hagen. Andrew shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and walked self-consciously around the room.
Damn. He’d been alone for too long. Already his heart was pounding and though he tried to think of something interesting to say, his mind went blank. Funny how he could easily talk business and feared no man when it came to a knock down, drag out fight, but the idea of mingling with strangers had him drenched in cold sweat.
Ruby glanced in his direction and pointed to an empty chair at the table. “Take a load off.”
“Thanks.” Andrew settled into the chair and motioned toward the bowl of vegetables. “Can I help?”
“Sure.” Greg approached with a knife and handed it to Andrew, then slipped his arms around his neck and asked softly, “Are you okay? You look a little uptight.”
“Leave him alone,” Ruby said. “You’re embarrassing him.”
“I am not. Am I?”
Andrew forced a smile. Glad to have something to do with his hands, he began chopping carrots. “I might as well level with you. I don’t mingle much. I spend a lot of time alone with my work.”
Ruby laughed. “You’re sure not like the rest of us.”
“We’re attention hogs,” Richie said. “If we don’t get up in front of a crowd every night, our egos are busted.”
Hagen shrugged. “I don’t know about that. Sometimes it’s nice to get away and have some privacy.”
“Oh, sure.” Ruby playfully tickled under Hagen’s chin. “If his audience disappeared he’d sink into the depths of depression.”
“What do you do for a living?” Hagen turned to Andrew.
“I’m an armorer.”
Ruby raised an eyebrow. “Really? There’s still a call for that?”
“You’d be surprised,” Andrew said, his anxiety falling away as he discussed his beloved career. “I’ve been hired to make swords and armor for movies. I’ve sold to renaissance fairs and get commissioned by private collectors. Also, many of our kind -- ancients in particular -- still value old craftsmen.”
“Fencing is a hobby of mine,” Richie said.
“Greg told me.”
“I’d love to get a look at your stuff.”
“Sure. Anytime.”
“You guys finished with that salad?” Richie asked. “The bird’s done. Time for chow.”
Andrew and Hagen tossed the vegetables into a bowl and Ruby added dressing while Greg set the table.
Moments later they were enjoying the turkey with stuffing, squash, mashed potatoes, and salad with pumpkin pie for dessert.
“That was so good,” Greg said, leaning back in his chair with a contented sigh.
“You’re a great cook,” Hagen told Richie. “I can just about boil water.”
“But you can heat up the sheets, that’s more important.” Ruby winked at his lover.
Hagen blushed a bit. “Ruby, please.”
“I love it when he begs.” Ruby leaned closer to Hagen, a teasing smile on his lips.
While the others cleared the table, Andrew washed dishes and Greg dried. Afterward they sat in the living room to watch holiday movies and share a bottle of blood-laced wine.
Greg and Andrew stretched out beside one another on the floor while Ruby and Hagen cuddled on the couch and Richie sprawled on a chair.
Greg took a sip from the bottle, then held it out to Andrew who grasped it, his fingers lightly caressing Greg’s before he drank. Andrew was surprised to find he actually felt not only relaxed among Greg’s friends, but warmed by the closeness they shared. They’d made him feel like a part of them rather than an outsider. For the first time in a long time, Andrew felt like he belonged somewhere -- right here with Greg.
Sighing, Greg rested his head against Andrew’s shoulder. “I love this movie.”
Andrew slipped an arm around Greg until the film ended. Then they stood and stretched.
“It’s time for us to go,” Ruby said. “Thanks for dinner, Richie. We had a great time.”
“We should go too,” Greg said. “If I know Richie, he’ll have some female company soon.”
Richie yawned and stretched. “Just a couple of waitresses from downstairs.”
“Well, have fun.” Greg embraced Richie.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Andrew said.
“Anytime.” Richie waved goodbye as Greg and Andrew left.
“Now, you want to come to my room while I check on the dogs?” Andrew asked.
“Yes.” Greg grinned. “I’m looking forward to meeting them.”
“You like dogs?”
“I love animals. I’d keep pets if I didn’t travel so much. Not all hotels allow pets, and I don’t think it would be fair to keep them locked in a kennel for months while the Maidens tour.”
Chapter Three
As soon as Andrew opened the door to his room, Bo and Helen greeted him and Greg with wagging tails.
“What great dogs,” Greg said, kneeling on the floor and patting them.
Smiling, Andrew joined them. “Get down like this and they’re liable to think you want to wrestle.”
“That’s okay. Good exercise.”
For the next several moments the vampires and the dogs playfully attacked each other until Greg stopped suddenly, his vampiric strength easily subduing Bo.
“I forgot what this must sound like to the people in the room below us.”
“You’re right.” Andrew stood and straightened his clothes. “I’m so used to living alone I didn’t think.”
“There’s another kind of wrestling that won’t disturb anyone.” Greg rose and slipped his arms around Andrew’s neck.
“I like that kind of wrestling better.”
Greg took Andrew’s lower lip between his teeth and bit gently. Growling, Andrew squeezed Greg’s ass while backing him toward the bed. They fell onto the mattress. Their hands tore at each other’s clothes and their tongues plunged into each other’s mouths.
Andrew closed his eyes to better enjoy the sensations flowing through him. It took a moment for them to discard their clothes.
“Andrew,” Greg said, curling his hand around his lover’s cock.
“Mmm?” Andrew opened his eyes. His gaze met Greg’s for an intense moment.
“Bite me.” Greg’s usually musical voice was guttural and filled with lust. “Bite me.”
Andrew met that seductive invitation with a love bite that hurled them into a storm of vampiric pleasure.
Sucking his lover’s neck in a frantic rhythm, Andrew thrust into Greg’s hand that stroked and squeezed his swollen cock.
Greg’s fangs pierced his shoulder. The shared biting spurred their passion until they collapsed in each other’s arms, their thirst and lust sated.
Panting, his heart pounding, Andrew thought how much he looked forward to spending this night with Greg.
* * *
Greg yawned sleepily where he lay in Andrew’s arms. After taking the dogs for a walk, they’d made love for hours and Andrew now slept peacefully, his handsome face relaxed. Greg watched the rise and fall of his powerful, hair-dusted chest. His scent, stronger and more arousing from their lovemaking, filled Greg with every breath.
The urge to surrender to the sleep that edged closer with each hour of the morning almost overcame him. It would be so wonderful to sleep beside Andrew, but he couldn’t. Not without the risk of nightmares.
Carefully he left the bed, but Andrew woke.
“Where are you going?”
“To my room,” Greg replied, pulling on his trousers. He reached down and caressed Andrew’s cheek. “Go back to sleep.”
Andrew now seemed wide awake. Raising himself on his elbows, he stared at Greg, his gorgeous body nearly enticing the singer back into bed. If they made
love again, Greg would most likely end up spending the rest of the day here and he couldn’t take the chance. The last thing he wanted was to look like a foolish little boy in front of this sexy older vamp.
“I’m just having trouble sleeping.”
A slight smile curved Andrew’s lips. “I can help with that.”
“No. Thanks anyway.” Greg shoved his feet into his shoes and shrugged on his shirt. Not bothering to button it, he headed for the door.
“Hey, wait.” Andrew leapt out of bed. His warm, naked body pressed Greg to the door. Bracing a hand above his head and cupping Greg’s neck with the other, he leaned so close their lips almost brushed. Andrew’s touch was so inviting that Greg found himself aching for a kiss.
“What’s wrong?” Andrew asked. “Why do you want to leave?”
Greg forced a smile and said, “Call me tomorrow. Or I’ll call you.”
A strange look passed over Andrew’s face and he nodded slowly, then walked back to bed.
“Andrew --”
“Bye.”
Greg sighed, fighting the urge to follow his lover. He knew he had hurt Andrew’s feelings, and that hadn’t been his intention.
“Look, once I’m used to a bed I find it hard to sleep anywhere else. That’s why I want to go back to my room.”
“You must have a hell of a time in your profession. Moving from hotel to hotel.”
“But --”
“I’m tired and I have a long drive home when I get up. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure.” Greg left, a miserable feeling clogging his chest.
Maybe he should just tell Andrew the truth.
Another glance at the armorer’s rigid spine and he thought better of it. He’d only known this guy a couple of days and already he seemed to want control of him. If he wanted to go back to his room, it was his business, damn it.
That’s just fear talking, he told himself. You’re afraid of letting anybody except Richie and Ruby know how fucked up you really are.
Greg abruptly left, though once in his room he found it almost impossible to sleep.
* * *
Once Greg had gone, Andrew tossed and turned for what seemed like ages.
What the hell had just happened? He thought they were having a great time and really enjoyed being together.
Andrew didn’t buy for an instant Greg’s story about not being able to sleep in a strange bed. His entire life spun with worldwide tours, but he couldn’t spend a night in Andrew’s bed? Maybe now that they’d slept together and shared blood a few times, Greg found him boring. He wasn’t famous like the Maidens and Ruby’s friend Hagen. He led a quiet lifestyle, especially for a vampire.
Most likely Greg had left because he had plans with another guy. In spite of how he’d said Richie was only his friend and Creator, Andrew couldn’t be sure. Just because Richie made a grand show of flaunting his heterosexuality didn’t mean it was for real. Andrew knew lots of guys who refused to admit their true preference in bed partners.
Maybe he should have gone against vampiric etiquette and tried to search their thoughts. Richie was old and experienced enough to give him trouble psychically, but Greg he could probably read like a book.
Worst of all, no matter what Greg’s reason for leaving, Andrew felt used and empty. Yes, he’d fallen for Greg too fast, but until meeting him he hadn’t realized how love starved he was. It had felt good spending the holiday with someone he really liked, making love and sharing blood.
Obviously Greg didn’t feel the same. What had he said? Call me tomorrow, or I’ll call you. It was the old brush off, all right. He was glad he’d forgotten to give him the necklace. It was way too soon to give him a gift that special, anyway.
Bo and Helen jumped on the bed. Helen licked Andrew’s face as if to offer comfort.
“Dogs are man’s best friend,” he muttered. “Because you sure as hell can’t trust people. Now I remember why I became a recluse.”
His profession had been much more rewarding than any relationship he’d ever had. He thought Greg would be different, but it looked like he’d been wrong.
* * *
Upon waking that evening, the first thing Greg did was walk to Andrew’s room. The scent of the man and dogs had faded. Surprised Andrew had left without saying goodbye, Greg searched the hotel only to learn from Onan that the armorer had checked out at sunset.
Disturbed, Greg walked to the basement room where the Maidens rehearsed each night.
“What’s wrong?” Ruby asked upon seeing Greg’s distracted expression.
“I’m not sure.”
“Your Andrew is real cute,” Ruby continued. “Glad to finally see you with --”
“I think he’s upset with me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, he left without saying goodbye.”
Ruby wrinkled his nose and looked about to speak, but Richie beat him to it. “Did you stay the night with him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Richie, you know why not,” Greg replied, annoyed.
“If you like this guy, you’re going to have to be honest with him.”
“Honest?” Ruby asked. “What’s going on? What am I missing?”
“Greg doesn’t want his new lover to find out about his nightmares.”
“Thanks, Richie,” Greg snapped.
“Well, they have only just met,” Ruby said. “Maybe he’s not ready to get that personal yet.”
Richie snorted, as if to insinuate they had already gotten as personal as two guys could get.
“Thanks, Ru. At least somebody understands,” Greg said.
“On the other hand, if you’re interested in more than a fling, eventually you’re going to have to tell him the truth. He looks like the macho type who can handle just about anything, even if he is a little shy.”
Greg curled his lip in Ruby’s direction. “I thought you were on my side?”
“If he’s on your side he wants to see you get over this nightmare crap as much as I do,” Richie said.
“Let’s just forget about my private life and get to work.”
“Fine here,” Richie said.
Ruby opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Richie added, “Shut up, Ru.”
“I’ve had just about enough of this rudeness --”
Pointing a finger in Ruby’s face, Richie said, “The next time you open your mouth I want to hear music coming out of it. Ow! The bitch bit my frickin’ finger!”
In spite of his preoccupation with Andrew, Greg chuckled at his friends’ banter.
Throughout the rehearsal he couldn’t keep his thoughts off the armorer. The Maidens didn’t have a show that night, so when practice ended, Greg decided to take his rented car and pay a visit to Andrew at his forge.
Andrew had given him a business card with the forge’s address. With directions from Onan and the help of a roadmap, he finally located the forge. It had taken more time to realize the mile long driveway actually led to Andrew’s property and wasn’t just another country road headed nowhere.
Located on miles of field and forest, the forge appeared like something out of another time, long before even Greg’s birth. The stone and wood ranch style home across from it also had a medieval look to it, sort of raw and masculine like a Viking longhouse.
By the smoke rising from the forge, Greg knew Andrew was working. No sooner had the car stopped than Bo and Helen raced from behind the forge, barking and jumping at him.
Patting the dogs, he made his way toward the forge just as Andrew stepped out.
Greg’s breath caught and his pulse quickened at the sight of Andrew in work boots, snug jeans, and a sweat-drenched T-shirt plastered to his powerful body. His dirt-streaked arms glistened with moisture, the rock hard muscles even more defined than usual from hours of working on steel.
“Hey,” Andrew said, then whistled for the dogs. “Bo. Helen. Sit.”
They obeyed instantly, their stubby
tails wagging on the snowy ground.
Greg approached, his gaze sweeping the armorer’s body and finally resting on his face. “You left Burgundy Peak so fast I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.”
“I thought you might have had other engagements.”
“About last night --”
“You don’t owe me any explanation.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset.” Andrew turned and glanced over his shoulder. “I have some work to finish up. Can you wait a few minutes?”
“Sure.”
“Come in if you want to.”
Curious about the forge, Greg followed Andrew inside. In spite of how hot and dark the forge was, Greg found himself loving it because it told him so much about Andrew. Watching the armorer work, Greg thought he’d never seen a sexier picture. Tall and powerful, Andrew manipulated the steel with tremendous skill. His pride and love for his craft was obvious in each movement, every bend of metal and strike of hammer.
Finally tearing his gaze from Andrew, Greg looked at several pieces of half finished and completed armor and weapons. Andrew was an amazing craftsman, his pieces both beautiful and practical.
A short time later, while Greg was admiring a helmet, Andrew approached, using a rag to wipe his face and arms. “Want lunch?”
“Sounds good.”
They walked to the house and into the kitchen where Andrew washed his hands and began preparing sandwiches.
“After last night, I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me again,” Andrew said, opening a jar of sweet pickles.
“Why?”
Andrew cast him a glance as if to say you know why.
“I needed to be alone for a while last night. It’s hard to explain.”
“It’s none of my business. Do you want mustard?”
Greg stood, exasperated, and grasped Andrew’s arm. “Do you want me to go?”
“No.”
“Then will you look at me?”
The armorer met his gaze, his blue eyes so intense that Greg felt as if his soul was being pierced. “I’m glad you came tonight.”
A slight smile touched Greg’s lips. “You are?”