by Gallier, TW
"Really? No sex," I said. I graced him with my best doubtful gaze. "You aren't using your vampire pheromones on her?"
That accusation shocked him.
"No. She doesn't like me that way," he said. "I just tie her up. They kinda frown on actual intercourse at The Crimson Knot."
I didn't think I heard him correctly. Surely he misspoke. Sabrina liked to be tied up?
"You tie her up? With rope?"
"Yes."
"Chains?"
"I'm not into chains," he said. "I like rope. And knots." When I just stared at him a long moment, he continued with a bit more enthusiasm. "It's all about the positioning of the body, the way the rope wraps around her wrists, ankles, body, binding her tightly. It's about being creative in how I wrap her up tightly into the prettiest package I can imagine."
"And Sabrina lets you?"
"Let's me? She insists. She loves being tied up in creative ways," he said.
"Is she naked?"
"Sometimes. Why?"
He was nervous again.
"She's naked, bound hand, and foot, and you don't have sex with her?"
"I told you she's not interested in me that way," he said. Was that a hint of regret? Roger wasn’t saying he wasn't interested in her. "Mostly, she just likes to be spanked or otherwise abused by other women." He looked me up and down. "Would you like me to show you?"
I slanted a "You've got to be kidding" look at him. He wasn't kidding. The prospect of tying me up had him highly aroused. Even though his arousal excited my libido, I was not going to submit to bondage.
"Perhaps we should get to know each other better before we talk about tying anyone up," I said. I gave him a sultry smile. "Let's see how the coming day in your bed works out first. Okay?"
"Sure," he said.
Roger was happy. I refused his offer of a bondage lesson, but left the possibility open for the future. It wasn't going to happen, but he didn't know that. Who said I didn't know how to please a man?
I looked at the threadbare couch and prayed his coffin was in better shape. I haven't seen it yet. It was too late to go home.
"Shall we retire?" I said, and headed for the master bedroom.
The master bedroom proved to be in better condition than I feared. Not much, but it looked clean. He had a good queen-sized bed, white cotton sheets and no bedspread. The sheets were rumpled. Like the living room there were no decorations at all. Just a bed, a straight back chair and a chest of drawers occupied that room. No dirty clothes on the floor. The master bath was small and clean.
Roger closed and locked the bedroom door.
"No coffin?" I said. I looked up. The coming day was already beginning to bear down upon me. Now I was afraid. "How do you make it though the day without a coffin?"
I hurried over to the closet as he stripped. It was large and stuffed with clothes and knickknacks. No coffin. No mattress. Nothing to indicate anyone ever slept in there. I slept in a closet in lieu of a coffin before moving in with Desiree, but the closeness of the walls kinda gave me the same sense of security as a coffin.
"I hate coffins," he said. I noticed he had a very nice erection. Nothing to be ashamed in that department. "I sleep in a bed, like normal people."
I slanted a worried look at him, then at the window. It wouldn't take much to smash that window, and I'd be dust in the wind seconds later.
He disdained anything remotely connected to vampirism. Roger was trying real hard to act normal, to be normal. Well, except for that whole S&M kinky thing he had going with my sister.
Roger sensed my fear. I'm sure he could smell it. Fear, one of many aphrodisiacs for vampires. His pheromones saturated the air as he smiled darkly and moved in on me. I bet he didn't even realize what he was doing. It was instinct.
It was getting harder and harder to ignore his erection. My eyes kept going back, mouth watering, belly filled with butterflies at the prospect.
"It's dangerous. I know," Roger said, easing up close and stroking my hair gently.
His fingers brushed my neck, and I jumped. I realized I was panting, whether from fear of sunlight incineration or of Roger's sudden dominance, I don't know. I licked my lips and looked up into his hungry eyes. Feral eyes, like I'd seen in the werewolves. Eyes that ripped through me.
"Antoinette," I whispered. He had the same power as Antoinette. I was helpless. The knowledge that I couldn't refuse him anything sent a cold chill through me, that immediately turn to flaming desire. "Bastard. You knew."
"Knew what, Sable? Antoinette? I don't know anyone by that name," he said, and licked his lips hungrily. I instantly wanted to kiss him. "Is she your lover?"
"Oh," I said, feeling his hand cup a breast. I offered up my lips, and he accepted. "Uuummmm."
His hands roamed around all the curves of my body. Roger moved me toward the bed. I caught myself from falling back onto it, ending up with one knee on the bed and the other foot on the floor. Releasing my lips, he moved behind me and pushed me until I was bent over.
"You are so beautiful," Roger said. I felt his erect penis pressing against my hot, tingling nether lips. Without thought I reached down and guided him in. He pushed in slowly, steadily. "So damn beautiful."
It felt so damned good. There was nothing like that initial penetration, the feeling of being stretched, of being filled. I was pretty sure his vampire magic was making it feel even better.
"Uuuggh," I groaned. "Hello, baby."
I so wanted him to bite me. But Roger filed his fangs down long ago. He wouldn't let me bite him, either. So frustrating. Thankfully, when he began a long, hard stroke in and out of me I was able to forget my raging blood hunger.
"Think about your wings," he whispered hoarsely into my ear. "Think about them now."
"I...I can't with what you are doing to me," I said, gasping. I just wanted to close my eyes and savor every second of our sexplay.
"This is the best time, when your vampiric senses and powers are at their highest," he said, starting to pound away at me harder and faster. Vampires were the best! "Sex invigorates, stimulates all of your powers. Now is the time to envision them upon you, see and feel them growing huge and majestic." He pressed his thumbs into my back, between my shoulder blades. "Here!"
Then he grabbed both of my boobs from behind, and squeezed them tight. I felt him come inside me. Roger groaned wantonly, then laughed.
"See the monster you've unleashed," Roger hissed, after jerking my head back by the hair. "I could kill a mortal when aroused. This is the reason I do not seduce your sister or any other mortal woman."
He pulled out, and I whimpered. Pulling me off the bed by my hair, he held me on my tiptoes facing him. He smiled cruelly, and sent his erotic power through me. Wave after waver of icy cold sexual bliss.
"Aaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!" I cried, paralyzed with pleasure beyond comprehension.
CHAPTER 11
It was a long day. Roger reveled in his power over me. I wasn’t complaining. Nope, not one complaint from me. Only the late and unlamented Yuri had that kind of power over me. And the hated Antoinette. But all good things must end, and five minutes after sunset Roger kicked me out. He had to go to work.
Since twilight was still pretty light out for comfort’s sake, I retreated to my Mustang and curled up on the front seat until I felt it was dark enough to venture forth. Didn’t take long. Once the sun vanished over the horizon I moved quickly.
Desiree was waiting at the door. She didn’t look pleased.
“Look at you. Perfectly fine,” she said, seething. “Let me guess? Battery died on your phone? No other phones around to call me.”
“Oh. Sorry,” I said. “You’re right, I should’ve called.”
She ground her teeth, then tears began to roll down her cheeks.
“Another vampire suicided,” she croaked out. “All anyone knew was she was black-haired and wore black latex. I thought it was you.”
Next thing I knew her arms were flung around my neck and her
legs around my waist, as she hugged me tight and cried. I felt three inches tall. Who said vampires were incapable of feeling guilt and shame?
“It's okay, Desiree. I’m fine,” I said.
Pangs of guilt or not, such close contact and raging emotions did a number on my state of arousal. Vampires couldn’t fight our unholy urges very well, or very long. Roger kicked me out without breakfast, so I was hungry and getting horny on top of that. Not good for Desiree, despite what she might think about it.
“I haven’t fed yet,” I said in warning. In response she locked smoldering eyes on me, and then offered her neck. “I can’t. Damn you, Desiree, you know it is too soon for you to give blood again.”
Boney taught me to give a fang whore two weeks to recover from every feeding of a pint or more. A week back Desiree had joined in a gang feeding with Clive Honeywell and some of his evil vamps. I don’t know how much blood she lost, and neither did she. On top of that, my vampiric instincts had gotten the better of me twice since moving in with her, and I fed. Shameful, I know. But she did not make it easy.
“You are such a fang slut,” I said, prying her off me. “You scare me, Desiree. I’m afraid you’ll die from being too generous with your blood.”
“Well, if I do die, hopefully someone will have the decency to reanimate me,” she said, smirking. She so expected me to Change her into a vampire. “Don’t you think I’d make a great vampire?”
“Probably. You’re sucking the life out of me.”
“Aaii! Bitch!” she cried, laughing and clapping her hands. She took me by the hand and led me into the house. “Come on. I’ll get your breakfast.”
“About time. Who does a nice vampire girl have to sleep with to get a pint of blood around here anyways?” I said.
“Me.”
“Ah. Shame you have to work, otherwise I’d rock your world, babe,” I said.
“I don’t work tonight,” Desiree said, face lighting up with animal hunger.
“What?” I said. She was wearing a slinky, barely there wisp of a red top, braless, black leather micro mini of the skimpiest kind and black Mary Jane’s with a two inch platform and six inch heels. Looked like she was dressed for work to me. “This is your everyday wear?”
“Of course. What’s wrong with it?”
I refrained from blurting out my first thought — Wanna list? Desiree wasn't easy to offend, but I didn't want to push it. Beside, my usual attire wasn't much better of late.
She led me straight to the kitchen. The air was thick with the smell of coffee. I wasn't a coffee person, but Desiree couldn't live without it. Desiree kept a bowl of M&Ms for me in the center island. A handful of the candy-coated chocolate filled my mouth immediately.
"If you'll chop up a potato I'll start the bacon," she said.
"Sure," I said.
I found the largest potato in the bag, and started peeling it. The phone rang just as I got started. I answered.
"Sable!" Gabe cried. "You're alive."
"Why shouldn't I be?"
"Oh, no reason," he said sheepishly. I continued to peel. "I saw there was a vampire suicide, and she met your description, and..."
"Uh-huh," I said. "Not me. But thanks for worrying about me."
"No problem...," he said, and my phone beeped. Another call. I frowned. Didn't these people know what time it was? Very early for a vampire. I looked at the display, and saw it was Dane.
"Can I call you back? This call is important," I said.
"Sure."
"Dane," I said, clicking over. "What a surprise."
"Thank God you're alive," he said, the relief in his voice making my heart soar. "I saw...I mean, I thought..."
Bacon was sizzling in the pan before I finished. I moved to the island and started cutting up and then dicing the potato.
"You thought I was dead."
"Yeah."
"Not yet," I said with obnoxious cheer. "Have you found out anything on the werewolf yet?"
"No," he said, sounding disgusted. He gave me a long list of problems and insults he endured during his search. "Are you doing any better?"
"Not much better." Of course, I spent most of the night in bed, first with Gabe and then with Roger. I silently vowed to make it up to him. "I did get three names of werewolves with Fritz in their names — Fritz Simmons, Fritz Rotmensen, and Alfred Fritz-Haeg."
"Great. That helps."
By that time the potato was diced down to size and Desiree had the bacon between paper towels to soak up the excess grease. I was falling behind.
"I have to go, babe," I said. "If I find anything else I'll let you know first thing. Love ya, bye."
Desiree was cracking eggs into the pan. I watched in amazement. I always broke the yoke.
"Over easy, please," I said. She liked her yoke cooked solid. Yuck. I had to keep an eye on her. "Just two."
"Whatev," she said, shaking her head. “Call your sister.”
“Sabrina or Yvette?”
“Sabrina. She called worried that you committed suicide,” she said. “I told it wasn’t you, but she is still rattled. Call her.”
Satisfied my eggs would be cooked to order, I went and set the small breakfast nook table. Jeff called to ensure it wasn't me that suicided. Did everyone that knew me think I killed myself? I quickly convinced him that I was still healthily undead and that I was hard at work looking for the vampire killer.
Since the phone was in hand, I called Sabrina. Her relief warmed my heart, making my throat tight and hard to speak. She was the only member of the family to call, but she was the only one with the house number. I lost my cell at the mall. Only the people I’ve called on the cell the council gave me had my number, if they had caller ID.
I got a small glass of orange juice for Desiree, and a large glass of blood for me, while I spoke to Sabrina. I could tell she was a nervous wreck, and my call helped her a lot. Reluctantly, I set catsup on the table. Just in time, too, for Desiree came in and set our plates on the table.
Everything smelled divine.
I wasn't much of a breakfast person before being Changed, but since learning I could eat regular food as well as blood, I loved breakfast. I had to have blood, but my body would process normal food. Basically, it came out half-digested. But I didn't care.
"Perfect," I said, finally digging into that once unhealthy meal. Crispy bacon, hash browns, and over easy eggs all had so much grease and fat, but vampires didn't have cholesterol problems. We didn't have heart attacks or blocked arteries. Heck, we didn't really even absorb anything from the food. Only blood gave us nutrition. "Mmmm, so good."
"Thank you. I try," she said, beaming. Then she upended the catsup bottle on her plate, soaking everything but the bacon in it. Disgusting.
The cell phone rang again, thankfully taking my mind off Desiree’s ruined breakfast. It was Boney. The thought of just letting it ring crossed my mind. Instead I answered, and then hung up. That way he knew I didn't want to speak with him.
"Who was that?" Desiree said.
"No one important," I said. "Tell me about this latest suicide. Beside the part where you thought it was me. Where was it? How did it go down?"
"It happened in front of City Hall," she said, and shuddered. "It wasn't caught on tape or anything. But they say the vampire was running around, growling and biting people, like a wild animal. Until the sun hit her."
"So we don't know who she was yet?"
"I know, though the police and media don’t," Desiree said. She knew? Then what was all that drama at the front door? "Her lover is a friend of mine and mutual friends called me around three this afternoon to let me know."
Did they have some kind of fang whore support network going on? If anyone needed a support network it would be fang whores. What a miserable existence most of them led. Before Yuri Changed me fang whores baffled and disgusted me, now I mostly pitied them.
"Was her fang whore with her at the time?"
"Yes," she said, slanting a look at me. "Why?"
"She couldn't save her? Talk sense into her?"
"He. Brandon was her fang whore," she said. "And no, he couldn't. She was half-crazed."
"Could you take me to see Brandon?"
"Maybe," she said. She gave me a wary look. "Most fang whores don't want anything to do with Black Heart, you know."
"We won't tell him who I am, okay?"
"Uh-huh," she said.
After breakfast I changed. We were going to see a fang whore, so it was time to get out of “normal” clothes and vamp out. Fang whores always responded to vampires. And usually to any vampire.
No time for a shower, and I really needed one after my day of debauchery with Roger. So I transformed into a wolf, and back into a human. That vanquished all the dirt, grim, and makeup. I was pristine, or as pristine as undead could be.
I put on a burgundy latex mini dress with deep scoop neckline and long sleeves. Over that I wore a black leather corset, zipped up the front, with four buckled straps over that. Desiree bought this outfit for me. I finished it off with black thigh boots, big silver hoops and matching bangles.
Needless to say, Desiree was thrilled to see me in it.
We took my Mustang. Desiree wanted to drive me over in her new Dodge Charger, cherry red, black leather interior. She loved her car like I loved mine. Could a Mustang girl and Charger girl ever find common ground?
“So, tell me about this man taking up all your time and keeping you away from me,” Desiree said as we headed east, towards the White Rock Lake area of Dallas. “I mean you stumbling in at the crack of twilight, all bedraggled and looking totally satisfied. Perhaps I should meet him.”
“Roger is a vampire. A very strange and usual vamp, too,” I said. I didn't really want to talk about him, since I still hadn't dealt with what he could do, and did, to me. "Have you met Boney's mistress?"
"Antoinette LaRue?"
"Yes. Have you experienced her power?"
"Yes," she said quietly. For once Desiree didn't sound totally infatuated with a vampire. "She's the one that turned me into a hooker and a fang whore. I was a good Christian girl before I met her. Not all of my time with her was pleasant."