by Jen Eastwood
HAREM MASTER
by
Jen Eastwood
Copyright © 2019 Jen Eastwood. All rights reserved.
READER ADVISORY:
This is a work of erotic fiction and is not suitable for readers under the age of 18. Please enjoy this story, but be advised that it contains sexual themes and explicit language. The characters and events in this story are intended for titillation purposes only and in no way represent any real people or transpired events. Any similarity to actual individuals or events is purely coincidental. All characters depicted are the age of 18 or above.
OTHER TITLES BY JEN EASTWOOD
JEN EASTWOOD AUTHOR BLOG
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This isn’t the first series I’ve outlined after waking up from a dream. That said, I’ve been sitting on this one for months. When it’s good enough to fuel a novel-length series, you’ve gotta write it down to use later.
I won’t go on any further, because I’ve got the second part to work on. Expect it soon.
HAREM MASTER
Tent. Sleeping Bag. And more useless junk than I probably had back at home.
This Emma girl was cute, and I knew she’d clean up pretty well. Camping sure wasn’t her game, though.
I wished Scooter had warned me about his wife, Lina, inviting her on this vacation. Still, I’d had my stuff set up for an hour, and Emma looked like she was having a time of getting her own taken care of.
Grabbing the last couple of things out of her Nissan’s trunk, I noticed Scooter showing up right in the nick of too late.
With white-boy dreads piled in a bun, and frayed, silk pants that had to be a decade old, with his usual aura of weed stank… The guy didn’t get in a hurry for anything. “Need help, Eddie?”
I barely kept the pile of stuff in my arms. “Scoots, I love you like a brother, but I got this.”
“Cool beans.” Scooter grinned before he made his escape from any kind of work. “Holler if you need me.”
I didn’t even know what I was doing here. While we were in the campground, this resort built around a hot spring was like a stationary cruise ship, spread over hundreds of acres in east Tennessee’s Great Smoky Mountains. Sleeping in tents just made it so everyone could afford the buffets, casino, and mindless distractions.
Because Scooter loves camping, and nothing cures the munchies like an all-you-can-eat hog trough. It had to beat the music festival he’d hauled me to last year, if only by a little. And especially that shit-hole ten miles west, Pigeon Forge.
What I didn’t know, was that my vacation was about to become permanent.
Pulling Emma’s tent out of its bag, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about that woman I saw when I’d checked in. Hair and dress black as a starless night, and eyes almost glowing electric blue. She had to be making some bastard happy in one of the resort’s top suites.
The first pole snapped together as Emma spread out the tent itself. Yeah, I guessed she could look just as good with a lot of dolling up. But she was dressed like it was laundry day.
I pushed the fiberglass stick through the nylon sleeve. Hell, who am I to judge? Emma seems like a sweet enough girl.
As I got the second one in and stood the tent up, she gave me the kind of smile that makes a guy want to be a better person, just to deserve it in the first place.
I couldn’t risk letting myself fall for someone, though. With maybe fifteen years until the Huntington’s disease killed me, who was I to make some poor girl spend the last five taking care of my ass? Nobody deserves to see the person they love go through the total breakdown of mind and body.
A few hours later, we’d had our fill at one of the buffets. I collapsed in my chair by the fire pit. The carbs and steak were doing their best to put me down for the night. Which was fine by me.
It didn’t take a minute for Emma to set hers up, closer than I liked. If I were a little more scummy and not such a loner, taking advantage of her wouldn’t have been hard. Assuming she was the least bit easy.
Neither of us said a thing as the flames caught the smaller wood.
I know why Scooter and Lina had her tag along, but I’m pretty happy by myself. My job paid well enough, and people wouldn’t stop needing headstones carved before I’d have to start thinking about my own.
No debt, no need for any place bigger than that studio apartment, and no real commitments. Free time matters when your clock’s running short. And I didn’t even have to put my own toilet seat down.
Emma kept being shy as I poked at the fire, trying to block out the rumors I’d heard about the resort owners.
Vampires? Really?
Or as Scooter had referred to them over the sound of Hotel California in the lobby during check-in, ‘Those rich fucks!’
Nobody had bite marks on their necks. Especially that fucking hottie on the far end of the lobby’s giant Persian rug.
Satisfied the fire would leave embers for the next round, I finally looked at Emma. “Food’s worked its magic. G’night.”
Her sandy hair, brown eyes, and pouty lips made her look kinda stunning in the dancing light. “Sleep well.”
Until getting my diagnosis a few years ago, yeah, I’d have tried fucking her brains out. Or maybe even taking it slow and seeing what could happen.
But with my expiration date looming so close, letting her down easy felt like the kinder option.
Some bird right outside my tent had blasted its song, non-stop around daybreak. An early pancake buffet had called my name, well before anyone else made a noise.
After scarfing down enough to hold me over, it was time to roam the hallways and figure out how I’d get myself in trouble. Gift shops, tacky stages, and bars all sat dark and empty. But the casino and gym were hopping already.
I wasn’t interested in any of that touristy crap. Going in whatever direction seemed like it’d have the least people, I wanted to see the guts of this place. Maintenance rooms, back offices, and stuff like that. Because it’s not a fun vacation unless the staff has to wrangle you.
An unmarked door had been propped open with a push-broom. I peeked inside and saw far the hallway went. Jackpot.
Quiet voices behind a few doors told me this might have been the employee quarters. Walking faster, I didn’t want to get caught until I’d explored the whole wing. Not that it was any less fancy than the rest of the building, outside of rooms missing their numbers.
At the end, the hall gave me two choices. Right, to what looked like another room or a maintenance closet. Or left, to an elevator gilded in art-deco like something out of The Great Gatsby.
I pressed the call button and waited. Judging by the sound of the cables, the 1920’s trim wasn’t just for show. Hot springs used to be a major attraction in the old-timey days, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise.
An actual bell rang out instead of the soft ding of a speaker. I cringed at the noise and looked back to make sure I hadn’t caught someone’s attention.
Mashing the button to escape upward, I knew I wanted the highest floor. Offices, storage, or the fancy suites… It didn’t matter what was up there.
Noise above and below me rattled through the shaft. Lights for the second and third floor took forever.
Crawling to a stop at the fourteenth, the elevator didn’t open back up. I kept pressing at fifteen. Am I fucking stuck in here?
Seconds before panic could take hold, static crackled over my head. Then a clear, feminine voice came over an intercom. “There are two people standing by the river, and both of them want to reach the other side. The boat can only carry one of them. But they each get across.”
A riddle?
Whoever had recorded this, she at least sounded pretty. “Tell me how. You’ve got ten seconds.”
“You didn’t think too hard about it. Congratulations.”
“What the hell?”
The elevator started crawling upward again, taking forever to hit the last floor. “Edward Waller, of Knoxville, correct?” It was no recording.
“Yeah. I guess I’m busted.” But an elevator with a riddle for a password? “What’s this about anyway?”
Her voice picked up in pitch and tempo. “My hunch when I saw you last night wasn’t wrong. You see what most people can’t, right in front of them.”
“Call it a lucky guess.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” The bell rang out again as the polished metal split in front of me. “Welcome to the owner’s suite.”
I stopped before I took the last step out. “Wait, you’re that woman with the dark hair, aren’t you?”
“Maybe. Lots of people have dark hair.”
“If I already passed your test, I’m not answering another riddle.” Rolling my eyes, I stepped into the dimmed light of the hallway. Not too far ahead of me, I saw Firenze emblazoned next to the door in brass letters.
Giving it a few knocks, I waited long enough to think about leaving. If this is some lame mystery theater shit I’ve stumbled into, I’m gonna be pissed.
Four bolts unlocked inches in front of my face. Somebody didn’t mess around with their security.
But as the door eased open, it was even darker in there. The only thing I could see was a pair of blue irises, on the verge of glowing in all that ink.
Something put a lump in my throat as that tingle of fear shivered up my back. “Mrs. Firenze, I guess?”
“Mona Firenze.”
My eyes adjusted enough to give me a basic look at her. With curly hair and a figure like that under the sheer nightgown, I knew who she was. Even with a view of her clear as mud, the lady screamed elegance and class.
Swallowing the frog again, I fought to get my words out. “So what’s this about? Did I win a contest or something?”
“In a sense, yes.”
I was on the verge of coming back with another question when her arms squeezed around me. Then her lips pressed against mine. Whoever this chick was, she was strong enough to crumple my ribs like a paper bag.
Fuck! What? Scooter hadn’t said a thing about this place being a swingers’ resort.
Scary Mary let go in time to save one of my lungs from collapsing. Wiping her mouth with a forearm, those lit-up irises narrowed from top to bottom. “My hunch from last night was correct. I think you’ll do perfectly.”
“What is wrong with you?” Not that I really wanted to complain.
“It’s not what you think, but I’m sure you know about vampires, correct?”
She’s nuts. “You’re not drinking my blood.”
“That’s a total myth.” She wrapped a hand around mine. “Follow me.”
I followed without knowing why. Every part of me wanted to run back to that elevator, pack my shit, and leave this whole fucking place behind.
Mona guided me through the darkness for what felt like minutes. Finally, she stopped in what had to be the center of a massive room. The sound of high heels tapping against the floor brought me back into reality, or at least what was passing for it.
“Certain people feed on others, but pop-culture got it all wrong. My husband and I...” Her pause dragged too long for comfort. “We get our sustenance from their emotions. Psychic vampires, if you want to call us that.”
“You’re batshit.” The pun almost had me giggling through all my fear and confusion.
The vice of her arms squeezed around me again. Lips and teeth closed around the side of my neck.
I flinched and tried to squirm free. But then I realized she wasn’t breaking skin. As she let go, I caught a slightly better look at her.
She wiped her mouth again before putting an arrow through me. “You think you have it made, but deep down, you’re just afraid to mess up the easy, short life you’ve fallen into.”
“You could say that for just about anyone with enough money for a vacation. Tell me something you can’t guess so easily.”
“Emma and Eddie sounds like a cute couple, don’t you think?”
I was too busy thinking oh fuck off to realize she wasn’t in front of me anymore. Darting my eyes around the blackness, I finally caught a hint of movement to my left.
Resting in the middle of some giant beanbag thing that was dark as everything else, Mona locked her stare on me again. Something about that look dropped ice cubes down the crack of my ass.
I still don’t know what to call that other thing I was feeling, though. Comfort? Shock? Maybe just confusion.
“What you’re going through right now, I gave it to you.”
Enough of it faded so that I could speak again. “You mean this hickey?” I rubbed my neck, wiping away the spit she’d left behind.
“Are you that afraid of knowing the love of another person, Mr. Waller?”
“Excuse me?”
“Sex. Do you like it?”
Fucking hell, Scooter! Warn me about this shit next time. “Ma’am, you’re beautiful and all, but I don’t want a pissed-off husband gunning for my hide. Especially if he’s rich enough to own a place like this.”
“You’re not interested in sex?”
My dick started arguing with my brain and stealing its blood supply. “Lady, if you insist, I guess I’ve got the time.”
“Every king needs his queen. I’m sure my husband won’t mind if I loan myself out.”
“Fine then.” Getting laid wasn’t what I was hunting down, that morning or for the vacation overall. “If it falls in my lap, or you do, I won’t turn my nose up.”
“That’s not what I was asking.” But she didn’t sound too disappointed. “What I mean is, ‘are you so consumed with fear, that you won’t even enjoy the moment?’”
“Oh.” My face burned hot, and I hoped she was having the same trouble seeing a damn thing that I was. “I mean, it sounded like you were propositioning me, so I—”
“Got a chub in your pants. Don’t worry, I can see it from here.”
“Well, I can’t see shit. There any way you can turn on some mood lighting or something?”
She cracked both hands together. One of those old clapper things I hadn’t seen since the nineties put the scale of the room in just enough light.
“Happy?” And this Mona chick still looked just as fine as I’d remembered from the lobby.
“It’s better.” A few steps forward let me appraise her a little more. “Is this a proposition, or should I just head back the way I came from?”
Giving me one of those Sofia Loren looks that puts a man in his place, Mona smirked too much for comfort. “Your Huntington’s… How many years until it kills you?”
Every trace of blood left my cheeks. “Who told you about that?”
Mona scooted forward before turning on her side, keeping both of those lit eyes drilling through straight through me. “You did.”
“Unless you can read my thoughts, there’s no way.” As far as I was concerned, I had a doctor to sue for sharing my records. “We haven’t even talked before now.”
She let some of the mystery around her drop with one sentence. “Your greatest shame was jerking it, thinking about your first-grade teacher, all the way through high school.”
That wasn’t on any records, or anywhere else but inside my own head. “How did you—”
“We’ve already been over this.”
Shit… “Psychic,” I flinched without thinking about it, “vampire.”
“I have to admit, that memory of your father’s passing is more traumatic than the one about your mother. I’m floored that you don’t have crippling PTSD.”
Mom dying from the same Huntington’s I’d inherited from her was bad enough. “He was within sight of the
finish line, but some asshole couldn’t detour a few blocks.”
“And he was run over, close enough that you heard every bone snap.”
The memory cringed every part of my body. For all that marathon training and his devotion to fitness, it didn’t stack up well against some dipshit gassing it through a crowd of runners.
Mona scooted to the edge, dangling a heel off her foot. “Now tell me, how does eternal life sound?”
“Impossible.”
“How about what I offered before?” She looked every bit on the verge of licking her chops. “It’s been a long time since we added a new member to our little society.”
Now it totally sounded like the swinging kind of thing. And she wasn’t looking any worse in better light. “I’m game if you are, but like I said, I don’t want a ticked-off husband walking in.”
“Would you rather talk it over with him first? I can make it happen.”
“Scooter dosed me again, didn’t he? Goddammit!”
“Not at all. If you showed up without a clear head, I wouldn’t have let you up here.”
“You haven’t called the cops, so you and your husband aren’t that strict about who does what here.”
“No, but we’d both judge the hell out of you if you showed up higher than groceries. The same goes for Emma.”
All those mentions of the girl didn’t sit right in my gut. “You keep mentioning her. Why?”
“My husband’s taken a liking to her. The only thing on his agenda today is having the same chat with her that we’re having.”
“Then he can fuck her brains out for all I care. You’ve got the wrong idea, if you think we’re an item.”
Mona curled one side of her mouth up. “You say that, now.”
“I think she’s a sweet girl and all, but if you already know about my condition, you get why I’m not out for anything.”
“But you haven’t left yet.”