Nick’s head swam as Malcolm related more details. “Are you telling me I have to meet this duke-undead guy, too?”
Malcolm smiled. “Not unless I’m forced to fight to protect you first.”
“I hope that doesn’t happen.”
“I do, too. But enough of that.” Malcolm uncrossed his leg and placed his foot on the floor again. He opened his arms. “Come here. I need you.”
Chapter Eight
Nick’s very male body responded on the instant, filling and growing until it hurt against the confinement of his jeans. He set his glass on the table and walked over to straddle Malcolm, groaning with pleasure as their cocks touched, while their tongues danced in each other’s mouths. He rubbed hard flesh against rock hard flesh as Malcolm steadied his hips with his strong, otherworldly hands.
Nick concentrated on what was happening in his groin, and just as he thought he couldn’t hold back any longer, he felt Malcolm’s fingers at the buttons on his jeans.
“Too many layers of cloth,” Malcolm said as he freed Nick’s hot, painful cock to let it jut through the opening in his shorts. Wrapping his hand around it, his tug upward was gentle. “Stand up so I can reach you.”
Nick stood and pushed his shorts to his ankles with hands that shook with eagerness. He anchored himself with his hands on Malcolm’s shoulders and shut his eyes to concentrate only on the lust burning through his flesh. Almost as soon as Malcolm’s mouth closed on him, Nick released his control and let go, aware only of the glorious uncoiling of tension as his climax thundered through him.
When it was over, when Malcolm had swallowed and swirled his tongue around the head of Nick’s dick to clean it and savor the last drops, Nick knelt in front of him. Malcolm had already exposed himself, and his huge, erect cock pointed straight at Nick in invitation. Nick grazed the sensitive, spine-tingling nexus of nerves under the tip with his teeth, reveling in Malcolm’s cry of, “Oh, yes.” Slowly, Nick licked and sucked his way to the base until he had all of his lover’s cock in his mouth. He slid his hands beneath Malcolm, gripped his butt cheeks, and held on as Malcolm thrust his way to satisfaction.
When Malcolm had finished and they’d cleaned themselves and fastened their clothes again, Nick knelt and laid one side of his head on his lover’s lap. Malcolm stroked his fingers through his blond hair as they relaxed.
“Crap. I’ve caused all this trouble showing up unannounced. I wish I hadn’t followed you,” Nick said.
“Shhh. Forget it. How were you to know? I love it that you wanted to be with me.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Nick reached for Malcolm’s other hand and pressed his lips to it. “If it’s not something too painful to tell, I’d like to know if you were born this way.”
Malcolm’s laugh was light and easy. “It’s been too long for it to hurt. Vampires aren’t born because we don’t produce cum or sperm—as I’m sure you’ve noticed. We’re ‘made’ or ‘turned’ by a vampire’s bite. I was an officer in the Prussian army, and my regiment was involved in a major battle. When it moved into thick woods, I was arrogant and foolish enough to separate myself from the main body. A sudden saber blow struck me down, and I passed out from the pain. After fainting and regaining consciousness several times, I realized I was bleeding too massively to survive.”
Despair rushed through Nick at the thought that if Malcolm had died they’d have never met.
“By then, the battle had ended, and I heard my men calling my name, heard their boots sometimes snap twigs and at other times thud on the soft loam as they tramped through the forest to find me. The smell of so much death around me gagged me. Had they reached me in time, I’d probably have lived, but the search was impeded by a cold, heavy fog that had drifted in. I tried to call out, but they were too far away and my voice was too weak to carry to them. Instead of my men, an enemy soldier—a vampire—heard me and came to me. Recognizing I wasn’t going to make it, he bit into a groin artery and turned me only moments before I died.
“Once my change into one of the undead was complete, I hated him for what he’d done, hated the crazed thirst for blood I endured, the killing to satisfy it, and being forced to hide during the day and only able to be out at night. I dedicated those first years as an undead to hunting him down to destroy him, but when I had him at last in my clutches—long after the war had ended—I discovered I couldn’t do it.” Malcolm shook his head.
“I realized if he’d been a human who’d saved me, he would have been considered a hero. My maker was much stronger than I and might have torn me to shreds when I was poised to kill him, but instead, he thanked me for not wreaking vengeance on him when I pulled back. For a long time, we traveled together as friends, then we drifted apart. I have no idea where he is now.
“I was no longer a man, and as an undead, it’s easy to lose what it means to be human. Eventually, I met Alex, and he taught me how to reclaim some of who I’d once been. We’ve been friends ever since, and he has my complete loyalty.”
Malcolm leaned down and kissed Nick’s cheek. “Hey, what’s this…tears for me? It’s okay. Maybe it isn’t the life I would’ve chosen, but it’s been better than moldering in a grave. I have friends like Alex and Dante, work I love, and interesting places to visit—like Venice. And now I have you. I care about you very much.”
“I feel the same about you.” Nick felt cool fingers brush his tears away. “What if you’d died? We’d have never met.”
Malcolm released Nick. “But I didn’t and we have. That’s nothing to cry about, is it? I’m going to shower. Want to join me?”
“As if you need to ask.”
“Afterward, we need to make our way to Alex’s suite. The four of us must stay together. While Alex and I sleep, I want you with Dante. Don’t leave the suite until we’re up. Don’t open the door for anyone. Make sure you leave the privacy sign on your door so the cleaning staff won’t come in this room.”
Nick nodded, even as the fine hairs on his neck and arms rose.
§§§§
Considering only two of them were human, Nick thought the four of them spent the evening much like the men on the train in the lounge after dinner. As soon as they’d entered Alex’s suite, Dante offered him a beer, and he accepted the cold, sweaty bottle. The pleasant, yeasty smell filled his nostrils as he gratefully took a long swallow.
“Hmm. Different from American beers, isn’t it? I think I like it.” Gesturing to Malcolm and Alex, who were setting up a small, portable chess set, he lifted his eyebrows in a questioning way.
“No, nothing for them. Anything other than blood makes them ill, but they’re great about being with me while I eat. They enjoy the smell of food and maybe they remember how things taste, but their systems can’t handle food or drink anymore. I doubt they’re ever tempted to try.”
“What will they do while we’re in Venice? My blood source isn’t local.” He hoped Dante wasn’t Alex’s source or that he wasn’t expected to be Malcolm’s.
As if he picked up on the sudden tension in Nick, Dante said, “I hope you understand they don’t attack humans and drink their blood. Malcolm told you about the meeting at the duke”s?”
Nick nodded.
“They were served artificial blood there. They’ll be okay for at least another day or two. I’m sure they’ll figure out a source now that we’ve made contact with the vampire community here. Maybe they did when we met with lo Greco.”
Nick welcomed the relief he felt spreading through his body.
Dante sat on the couch, propped his Adidas-clad feet on the coffee table, flipped on the TV and turned to a soccer match. While the undead played their board game, Dante watched soccer, occasionally leaning forward to rail at the stupidity of the Venezian team. He seemed to identify with them.
Nick sat near the chess players, and although the game wasn’t his thing, he tried to wrap his mind around the moves. Although occasional sighs or grins broke through an otherwise quiet and serious game between
the two vampires, there were periods when Alex stopped and closed his eyes for a few moments. Nick realized he wasn’t thinking through his next move, he was searching for any sense they were in danger again. Remembering their sudden departure from the previous hotel, those were always tense seconds for Nick.
Dante had advised him to attune himself to the vampires’ schedule as much as possible. “Otherwise, it gets boring until they waken in the afternoon.”
About four in the morning, just as Nick thought he would fall asleep sitting up, Malcolm broke the silence over the chess game.
“Check,” he declared.
Nick looked down at the board and saw he’d trapped Alex’s white king.
Alex was studying the play to see if there was a legal move for his king when Malcolm shouted in gleeful triumph, “And mate.” He knocked the king on its side with his piece, and the game was over.
One side of Alex’s face tightened in what Nick perceived as frustration over his failure to win—which was not the same as irritation at Malcolm for checkmating him—but then he broke into a wide grin. “Sometime, my friend, some fine evening, I will clean your clock.”
Dante turned his attention to Alex. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” To Nick, he said, “Alexandros is a phenomenal street fighter, but Malcolm was a colonel in the Prussian army. He’s an outstanding battlefield tactician, a trait that comes in handy in chess.” He switched off the TV and drew a deck of playing cards from his pocket while laying out the rules for strip poker.
Shocked, and hoping they weren’t into foursomes, Nick reluctantly joined in, not knowing how to back out with any grace. He hadn’t been with these guys that long, and although he’d modeled nude professionally under a photographer’s lights, this was different. That was art. This was sexual. He wasn’t sure how he’d handle it if he had to bare everything. Even in a men’s lavatory, there were walls between urinals, and you knew better than to peek at anyone’s dick.
Intimacy with Malcolm, naked and hungry, having his lover see, touch and taste his dick and balls wasn’t the same either.
The seriousness of the chess and soccer games dissolved as the hot poker progressed with salacious remarks, laughter, friendly gibes, and small bribes to prevent loss of another piece of clothing.
Dante, who had at last lost everything but his slacks and shorts, lost again. With no chips left for bribing, he sighed and stood, reaching for the fastener on his trousers.
Like a bird in flight flushed from a bush by a flugelhorn’s mellow sound, Alex shot up. One hand closed over Dante’s. “That is far enough in this company, however rowdy it may be.” He leaned in and captured Dante’s lips. “I think we’ll say goodnight.”
Hand in hand, Alex led Dante to one of the bedrooms while they continued to kiss.
Nick realized Dante was wearing a ring on his marriage finger. Prickles of heat stirred in his groin at the thought of what might go on in that room. His face grew hot at what his thoughts were doing to his dick.
Malcolm must’ve noticed his flush because he crossed to Nick. “Dance with me? There’s a radio here with a music station.”
Nick nodded, and soon they were gyrating to an old rock song, happy with each other, relaxed and having fun. When the station changed to a slow dance, they slid their arms around each other’s waists and danced cheek against cheek, bare chest to bare chest.
“Your nipples are hard,” Malcolm whispered in his ear before sliding his cool tongue in, sending a rush of excitement through Nick.
Nick moved his hands down and squeezed the ass he found there, pressing his pelvis tight against Malcolm’s. “On you, something else is hard. What are we going to do about these problems?”
A soft growl escaped Malcolm. “I think we must find a bed.”
“Yes, I think we must. Fast.”
§§§§
It was one in the afternoon when Nick woke, his stomach growling with hunger. After his last mind-blowing orgasm, he had fallen asleep on top of the being who’d taken him to the precipice and over. Now, Malcolm slept beside him undisturbed when Nick got out of the bed, dressed in shorts and jeans and headed to the bathroom.
“Whoosh, but I look awful,” he told the image in the mirror after he emptied his bladder and his morning erection was subsiding. His hair was a tangled mess, and his face announced he hadn’t had enough sleep after the fear, tensions, and wild pleasure of the previous day. He washed his face in cold water and dampened his hair. Lacking comb or brush, he used his fingers and hands and tried to tame it. He was only partially successful.
When he entered the living room of the two-bedroom suite, he found Dante standing at the kitchen door with a steaming mug in his hand. “I made coffee. Help yourself.” His gaze wandered up to Nick’s hair. “Sleep well, did you?”
The implication of wild, sexual gymnastics was obvious, and Nick found himself smiling broadly. “You, no doubt, have a comb.”
Dante laughed, almost choking on his drink. The implication that he’d participated in his own wild, sexual gymnastics, but did indeed have a comb was also obvious.
Nick pulled in a deep, appreciative breath. “Hmm. The coffee smells wonderful, and it’s just what I need. Thanks.” He filled a mug.
Dante tore the wrapper from one granola bar and tossed another to him. “We had food in the other hotel, but now we only have wine, coffee, and tea. We can’t order in, so these will have to hold us until Alex and Malcolm are up. Once they’re awake, we’ll go out to eat right away.”
As they stood sipping the hot brew, Nick asked if it was always this way. “Staying in while they sleep.”
“No, it’s because of the danger we’re in.”
“Other than that thing about meeting the vampire doge, I haven’t been let in on exactly what that is.”
Dante explained about the menace to couriers. “No one seems to know how news of the deliveries of the various companies is getting to the thieves. In our case, this delivery became my responsibility because I’m Italian, speak the language, and have been in Venice. When a courier from another company died after being assaulted and robbed in Great Britain, Malcolm and Alex were assigned as my bodyguards.”
“Damn, but I’m sorry I made this harder for you. I’m one more person to worry about, but I have a hotel room and can go there.”
Dante shook his head as he rinsed his empty mug and set it on the counter. “Forget that idea. Malcolm wouldn’t hear of it, and neither would Alex. Overall, you’re safer with us. It’s overcast again today, so the vamps will wake up about four or a little earlier.” He finished his bar and tossed the paper in the trash. “I’m going to shower.”
The sound of running water and the click of the glass shower door closing caused Nick to remember he’d forgotten his sports bag. He needed what was in it. Without thinking, he grabbed up the keys to the two rooms and hurried out the door. He hesitated partway down the empty corridor when he realized he wasn’t supposed to do this.
Great. Just great. I’m breaking all the rules. But he’d almost reached his room and only silence greeted him when he listened for the sound of approaching footfalls, so he hurried on.
Alarm bells rang in his head when he saw the privacy notice on the floor partially under the door. He’d closed the door and hung it over the knob when he was in the corridor. It couldn’t have gotten beneath it unless someone had entered. There were no sounds inside when he pressed his ear against the smooth wood.
He knocked and said in a falsetto voice, “Servicio in camera.”
No response. Heart racing, breath trapped in his throat, he opened the door and stepped quickly inside. Shock coupled with dismay swept through him.
Then he breathed again and anger burst out of him. You goddamned shits. Relief followed that he had his wallet and passport on him. Passports went for big bucks on the black market.
Empty drawers had been pulled out and tossed aside, the bed stripped, cushions and pillows ripped apart. The mattress leaned drunkenly agai
nst a wall. The contents of his bag lay strewn on the floor. His shaving cream can had been demolished. What had they thought was hidden in there—drugs…gems…his passport? If they knew about the couriers, then it would have been precious metals or stones they’d hoped to find.
He worked fast to put things to rights and, except for the pillow damage, soon the place was almost neat as before. After shoving his things into his bag, his rage changed to firm resolve.
Herbal shampoo and a men’s cologne scented the warm air when he entered Alex’s suite. Dante came into the living room fully dressed, rubbing the last dampness from his hair with a white hand towel.
“We may be in trouble again. Someone ransacked my room.”
Dante stopped drying. “How do you know?”
Nick confessed his carelessness.
Dante’s jaw tightened in annoyance, but he sat without reproaching him. “Why haven’t they found the rest of us?”
Nick shrugged. “Haven’t a clue, unless it isn’t you they’re after. Maybe this was a random thing, a coincidence. I couldn’t see Malcolm’s room from there, and when I realized he’d told me not to leave this one, I didn’t dare walk to where I could.”
Dante looked at his watch. “Sometimes Alex stirs in his sleep when he senses danger, but I was in the shower and wouldn’t have noticed. It’s three. Since the sun isn’t out, I think we should rouse them. It may take some time to get them fully awake, but they’ve had almost a full sleep. I’ll wake Alex. You go to Malcolm.”
§§§§
Once Malcolm was awake, he dressed and left with Dante to check their rooms. When Dante and Malcolm returned to Alex’s suite, they reported both rooms were good. Alex didn’t recall any disturbance of impending danger while he slept, and they concluded they were safe for now.
Night Train to Venice Page 8