by Janice Jones
“Brice, you’ve tried to get close to this guy for a year! Could you be a little more excited?”
Tristan gave her a sideways glance as she brushed her thin lips with the end of her pen.
“You’re right, Karen. As always.”
He stood and took the chair next to her, taking her hand.
She blushed bright red and gave him a girly bat of her long fake lashes.
She is rather pretty in an ordinary sort of way, Tristan thought. He could see why Brice gave her moments of pleasure so she’d stay. She was smart and hard working as well. He could tell from the way this office ran so smoothly. No one looked worried and particularly happy he was back because she kept everything running like a well-oiled machine.
“I don’t say that as often as I should, do I?”
“I . . . um . . . you show your appreciation in other ways,” she whispered nervously. As if someone could hear them behind closed doors, her grip tightened on his hand. “I can’t complain.”
Tristan cupped her tiny hand in both of his and smiled.
“But I can do better at showing you how much I appreciate everything you do around here. Without you I’d be up a creek.”
“Yes, but I’d be right there with you, always.”
“Thank you.”
He kissed her hand, felt the shiver as it stomped through her when he moved his lips to her wrist then back to her palm.
He entered her mind as easily as he would a child’s. As his fangs dropped slowly, she slipped into a trance-like state. And when he pierced her wrist, the smell of blood and expensive perfume filled his lungs.
Sweet and clean, her blood entered his mouth with the feel of silk over his tongue.
Again, he would have to tell Giselle she was right. His first taste of warm human blood was just as sweet as he remembered. So sweet, he wanted to scream.
He had to force himself to stop or she’d be hurt. He licked the wounds and waited for them to heal before he released her mind.
“Are you alright,” he whispered as Karen blinked several times.
“Yeah, I must have zoned out. I’m sorry, what were we talking about?”
“I was thanking you for being the best assistant any man could ask for,” he chuckled as he kneeled in front of her.
Hands on her thighs, he pushed the pleated skirt up.
Again, she trembled, but didn’t protest.
“What . . . what’s gotten into you Brice,” she giggled. “I’ve never seen you like this. And we’ve never done this here! I mean, you’ve always insisted on being discreet.”
“Oh, well, I’m turning over a new leaf,” Tristan replied as the fabric travelled up her thighs. “When I feel like doing something, I’m going to do it!”
His long fingers crawled playfully under the skirt.
Her thighs trembled as his thumb brushed over the sensitive mound of flesh between her legs.
“I . . . like it . . .” she whispered as he stroked.
Tiny puffs of air escaped her lips with each flick of his thumb. The scent of her sex came up and she moaned. Pulling her to her feet, he held her close as their eyes met.
“Take them off.”
She obeyed as quickly as she could, being locked to his body.
Once her dainty panties were on the floor, Tristan led her to the small leather couch on the other side of his office. He took a seat, but she stood and waited for his next instruction. Karen stared down on him as his hard-on pressed against the fine wool of his pants. As her heart raced in her chest, his kept the steady pace it had when he’d fed. He smiled when he noticed the pen and pad still in her hand.
“You can put that down, if you want.”
They dropped to the low table with a tiny sound as she nodded like a drone.
Tristan pushed the table away with his foot, held out his hand as she kneeled before him. “When we’re done here, I’d like you to take the rest of the day,” he whispered with each stroke of her mousy brown hair as she rubbed his thighs slowly.
“Why?”
“Because we’re having dinner tonight and I want you to get something nice to wear, red of course. You pick a place, big booths and low lights, and I’ll be there.”
“But . . . why,” she sighed as his hand slipped inside her blouse and squeezed her breast to tease the nipple to diamond hardness.
“We’re celebrating,” he replied. “You worked so hard to get me this meeting, Karen. Not only are you getting a bonus, you’re getting a fantastic night on the town with me! I’d like everyone to see the talent I have and be so very jealous.”
Her flushed face was warm to the touch, eyes dilated with pleasure. “You don’t have to do that. You’re my boss, it’s what I do!”
“Oh, but I want to! You’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t accept.”
Her hands shook as she unbuckled his pants, eased the zipper down carefully. From her expression, Tristan could tell he’d improved on Brice’s attributes.
She caressed with the hands of an innocent. Scared of what she saw or just inexperienced, she fumbled in the art of seduction.
Again, he hunted his memory for his encounters with her, he found mundane sex at her little apartment. He never kissed her. She never even got undressed when they had sex. He was a poor teacher—a failure at the simplest of lessons on how to please a woman.
Tristan took her hand in his, guided her in the dance. He adjusted her grip as he relaxed and enjoyed. When he was ready, he positioned her straddled over his lap.
Karen let out a long breath as Tristan guided her over his erection.
Hands on her hips, he moved her slowly up and down. As her wetness covered him, her breath became labored. Her eyes closed and her head rolled back as she moaned and cooed.
“Tonight, after dinner, I’ll do much better,” Tristan whispered. “Tonight I’ll show you how to please me thus pleasing yourself, do you understand?”
She just nodded as her body shuddered and she stifled the scream he so very much wanted to hear. As her orgasm waned to a low pant and one final shudder, he lifted her from his lap and placed her gently on the cushion. When she was ready to leave, Tristan opened his office door and smiled at her.
“I’ll meet you around eight,” he said.
“Of course,” she sighed like a school girl. “I can’t wait.”
_______________
He hoped he was dreaming, but when he tried to raise his head, the pain was real.
Ben rolled to one side and his stomach flipped. On his back again, he took several deep breaths to quiet his empty stomach. Once it settled, he eased up on his elbows and opened his eyes, one at a time.
The room, dark but cool, felt like a cave more than a bedroom.
The only real pieces of furniture were the bed he was lying on and the nightstand next to it. A card table in the far corner had one ratty chair pushed under it. A large mirror sat against the wall behind it. To his right, one door, cracked enough for him to see the harsh light coming through and what looked like the end of a claw foot bathtub. To his left and slightly behind him, another door, closet probably.
When he finally noticed the breeze, he rolled his tired eyes up to see a fancy ceiling fan pushing air down from above. As good as it felt, he wanted to get up, but couldn’t. He wanted to run, but his legs were heavy and his arms started to shake.
He dropped back down in the bed and groaned. Silence filled the space until he coughed and it felt like his head was going to explode.
It was hard to breathe, but he filled his lungs with air and still couldn’t pick out any familiar scents. A concentrated effort to find something he could track was impossible with the headache, so he wouldn’t be able to find a sound outside these four walls that would help either.
All he could smell was himself, and he was pretty ripe.
&nbs
p; “Shit,” he whispered.
The bolted and steel door that led out of the room swung open. Ben’s eyes closed tightly as more harsh light stung them, so much that they began to tear up.
It slammed shut and he was afraid to open his eyes. Taking another deep breath, he recognized the scent—her scent. That girl, Sasha, stood somewhere in the dark and watched him suffer.
“Hey,” her voice popped right next to his right ear. When he jumped, she giggled.
Ben tried to push her away, but when he reached out, he came back with air.
“Time to rise and shine,” she chirped in the other ear with another giggle.
He kicked in the direction and missed.
The light overhead popped on and Ben moved his arm quickly over his face and screamed, “What do you want? I’m trying to get my beauty sleep!”
Sasha laughed as she pulled at his ankle this time. His body moved slowly over the bare mattress and his knees bent when they reached the end.
When he opened his eyes, she was sitting at the card table smiling.
“You’re beautiful enough,” Sasha smiled. “Sit up.”
Ben pushed up with both hands. Once he was slumped over his own knees, he raised his head slightly and smiled back.
His stomach was doing flips like crazy now, but he had to keep whatever was trying to get out down. He wasn’t going to let her see him lose it like that, even if she was probably the cause.
“Where are we?”
“Home,” she replied. “Tristan’s home anyway.”
“And where is he by the way? I’d like to thank him for the hospitality so far.”
Sasha uncrossed her legs and leaned forward to place her elbows on her knees.
“He’ll be with you shortly. How do you feel?”
“Like shit, you?” he frowned.
“You should probably stop fighting it and just let it come up,” she sighed.
Ben’s stomach flipped again, but this time it felt like someone had just kicked him in the gut. The next one came shortly after and he locked his abs in place with all the strength he had left.
“Let what come up?” he was barely able to speak as a bitter taste formed in his dry mouth.
“Tristan gave you a little something to clean you out, so to speak. He likes his volunteers to be clean, fresh.”
“I didn’t volunteer for anything,” Ben snapped, pushing up from the bed. He was surprised his legs held him up. But not surprised at the next kick of his now angry stomach.
“Sure you did,” she replied standing up as well. She was almost as tall as he was.
Before he could say anything else, the contents of his stomach had other ideas.
The bathroom door slammed into the wall as he almost jumped through to get to the toilet.
When his mouth opened, the first wave of green pea soup shot out. As the force of the convulsions racked his body, his organs moved out of the way of whatever he was given as it raced up his throat and out into the nice white toilet bowl.
Laughing as she sat on the edge of the tub, Sasha turned on the spout and held a red washcloth under the cascade. When the cold cloth landed on his back, he thanked her before another wave of soup escaped his body.
“You’re very welcome,” he heard her say over the noise of his stomach as it emptied.
Chapter 34
“You’re sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” Adam asked, as he sat next to her in the back of the ambulance. Her ears were still ringing, but at least he didn’t sound like he was in a tunnel anymore.
“Yes,” she replied. “I’m fine. How’s Jason?”
“Some silver burns to his hand, but nothing that won’t heal. Oren got the worst of it. When he heard you yell he pushed Jason back inside.”
The anger burned as she swallowed it like a bitter pill. “How bad?”
Adam rubbed his neck as he looked down at his feet. “He’s out of commission for at least a couple of weeks, maybe longer. The shrapnel was silver based, so . . .”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t put it together until it was too late.”
She felt Adam’s hand rubbing at her back in a slow motion. He was trying to soothe her.
“It’s not your fault,” he said in a low easy tone. “If not for you, it could have been much worse. Oren will recover and Jason is practically unscathed.”
Adam shook his head as they watched the scene in front of them. Emergency crews from the police and the bomb squad scampered around like busy bees trying to keep the scene contained.
News crews were camped out at the gate, held back by a heavy security presence. She could see paparazzi in trees and on top of cars across the street from the back wall angling for the best shot. There had to be more guards at the wall or they would have scaled it already. For now, the police were doing a good job of keeping them at a safe distance. That was a good thing. The last thing she wanted was her picture splashed all over the world looking a smoky mess. Ivy would freak out. She would have to call her as soon as she got her phone back from the techies.
“We should get you to the hotel, your team is worried about you,” Adam said, helping her stand. She dropped the blanket in the back of the truck and thanked the EMT for the assistance with her wounds. After, she slipped her feet back in her heels and tried to steady herself, but wavered slightly. Adam placed his hand at the small of her back. “Careful.”
“Thanks,” she replied as she looked down the drive at the chaos on the other side of the gate. “I can’t go through that mess down there.”
“You don’t have to,” Adam grinned. “Follow me.”
He took her dirty hand and led her around the tangled steel that used to be Jason’s limo. She could smell charred metal and burnt leather. Through the gaping hole that was his massive front door, they entered the house. Everything in the blast radius had been shattered and broken. Adam maneuvered them around the crime scene techs and local LEOs to Jason’s private office. She was starting to get that feeling in the pit of her stomach again.
Adam released her hand as he moved further into the room. There was a faint smell of smoke, but for the most part this room was unharmed. Behind the massive desk, he pushed at a paneled wall that she thought was just a bad décor choice on Jason’s part. The hinges yawned as it opened. She could smell dampness as the air rushed into the room.
“No cameras and no mess,” Adam grinned at her.
Alex moved cautiously toward him. “Is this how you get the bodies out?”
He laughed as he stepped into the dim doorway and helped her through.
The landing was made from big wooden planks, new and expertly installed. She felt like she was suspended in midair as they stood side by side. He pushed the secret door closed and she heard the latch snap back into place.
“This property used to belong to a bootlegger back in the day,” he said as he took her hand to lead the way down a narrow flight of concrete steps. The stone walls were damp and looked like they would crumble if she touched them, so she held tight to Adam’s hand as they descended. “He used to get the booze from his warehouse to the speakeasy through this tunnel. Jason thought it would be useful to keep this intact,” he continued. He smiled at her as they reached the bottom. “Turns out, he was right.”
A steel catwalk would lead them to the other side, which had overhead, dim antique lighting. At the other end were two brand new steel doors.
She kept the space between her and Adam small. Mainly because she didn’t trust the catwalk and she was having trouble focusing in the dimness because her head pounded and her body began to ache. Adam, on the other hand, moved like he knew the place like the back of his hand.
“Just a few feet more,” he said. “Those doors will put us into the hotel basement.”
“Great,” she answered, trying to sound like she was just as comfortab
le here as he was.
Once they were at the steel doors, Alex heaved a sigh of relief. Adam punched a code into the electronic keypad attached to the door. It sprang open and released a breeze filled with the smell of detergent and bleach. Alex was grateful for that smell. It meant she was safe on solid ground as she stepped over the threshold. He reached for a shelf next to the exit that held a stack of facial wipes. She took them and wiped at her face and hands as they walked.
“You might want to call Ms. Rose,” Adam said as he handed her his phone. “I understand she’s frantic.” He took the dirty wipes then dropped them on the cart in the hallway as they passed.
“Shit,” Alex huffed as she dialed and her heart pounded in her ears.
It barely rang once and she heard Ivy voice blast over the speaker: “Adam Craig, you bastard, you’ve been ignoring my calls all night! Where’s Alex?!”
“Hey,” Alex giggled, “It’s me, Ivy. I’m fine.”
On the service elevator ride all the way to the penthouse level, Alex listened to Ivy yell at her for not calling sooner, then cry because she was so scared something really bad had happened to her. At the end of the conversation, Alex promised to call back later to explain everything. Adam took the phone she held out to him. Maybe she bought herself some time to come up with a good lie, she hoped.
The device vibrated and Adam frowned at the screen. “Jason wants to see you.”
“Sure,” she replied.
The doors opened onto a well-lit and expensively decorated hallway. Heavy security on the floor meant automatic weapons, sophisticated surveillance and really big guards in combat uniforms. Adam explained the entire floor had been vacated, except for Jason, Alex and the team. When they were ready, Jason would make a statement to the press. Alex was not expected to join him, but she could if she wanted. However, the statement would be a joint one and she would not be allowed to make a separate one.
“Fine, but I’d like to see the statement before he makes it,” she said.