by Cd Hussey
The walk back was far too brief and in no time, they were turning onto Conti. Julia's heart did a triplet and jumped into overtime. Her hotel was barely 100ft away; she could see the green fabric awning. She wasn't ready for the night to end. The memory of kissing him was too enticing to let it end there.
Did she just ask him to stay the night? What would happen then? Would he bite her? Did she want him to?
"Which hotel are you in?"
It was steps away. "The Conti Royal. Right here."
He glanced at the awning. "So it is."
Before she had a chance to chicken out, she blurted: "Would you like to come up?"
As achingly slow as it was graceful, he turned to her, his multicolored eyes brimming with a mixture of lust and regret. "I want to, believe me I do, but-"
She didn't let him finish. For the second time this evening and in her life, she just went for it and kissed him. Maybe she'd regret it later, but right now she was grateful for the courage being drunk granted.
He hesitated for a moment, and she worried she'd gone too far, but then he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back against the wall, devouring her with his returning kiss. Pressing his body into her, his hands ran over her curves until they settled on her hips. She could feel his erection grow until it was a huge, firm mass against her stomach.
Holy shit, she was so wet and hot, it was like an inferno down there. Never, never in her life had she felt so turned on. She was pretty sure if he kept pressing his erection against her she was going to orgasm. He could have bent her over right there and she wouldn't care who walked by.
As on cue, someone did and catcalled, "Yeah man! Give it to her."
Julia felt Armand's chest heave in a sigh and he pulled away. "Ignore them," she said.
He rested his forehead on hers. "If I continue on this path, I'll give them exactly what they want."
"That'd be okay."
Armand chuckled. "So I could just slide these fabulous ruffled panties aside and make love to you right here on the street?"
"Yes." The word caught somewhere in her throat and she had to swallow in order to breathe.
"Mmmmm." His deep moan sent more heat shooting to her loins.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pulled him in. He groaned again. "Damnit Julia, you smell so good. Everything about you smells delicious. Your blood, your arousal...No, what I want to do to you requires privacy and no...guests. These fools don't deserve to watch."
Besides sliding - from what she could tell - a pretty generous cock into her, she knew he intended to slide his fangs into her flesh as well. The idea no longer frightened her. Instead, it turned her on more, if that were possible.
If she wasn't so flushed from the alcohol and his body pressing into her, she would have blushed at the image that flashed through her mind.
"Then stay the night," she breathed.
With an audible sigh instead of just a chest heaving sigh, he pulled away until there was actually air between them. Her hot body felt suddenly frigid. "I can't."
Maybe he had a girlfriend or a wife or a - partner? Or maybe he wasn't as into her as she hoped, maybe he just got off watching her get turned on. After all, she couldn't hold a candle to other vampires like Angel when it came to sex appeal. What made her think he could possibly find her attractive?
"Please do not think for a moment that I don't want to," he continued, crashing into her pity party. "I just...I just don't think I could stay in control. You're vulnerable right now and I, well - Ah, fuck." He ran a hand over his hair, his eyes focused on the sidewalk. Torn was a good way to describe his gorgeous face.
She offered him a shy smile. "I'm a big girl, Armand."
He turned back to her. "I know." He took her hands. "You've been drinking though, and I don't want to take advantage of you and your willingness right now." Jesus, she was probably coming off like some drunk sorority girl. "Besides, it could be...dangerous for you."
Oh.
Part of her didn't care.
Actually, most of her didn't care.
"Why don't we continue this tomorrow? I'll pick you up here and we can have a proper date. Is six o'clock alright?"
Her heart sank, and no matter what his words said, it felt like she was getting the brush-off. "Sure. Six."
Again, he seemed to pick up on her emotions, even though she tried to internalize them. "Please trust me Julia. I've never wanted to be with a woman more."
Now it was her turn to sigh. "I guess I can wait a few hours." It would feel more like an eternity.
His arms were tentative when he put them around her, but she welcomed any touch he offered. Gently, he kissed her. "Instead, if you like, you can come by Luxure earlier. I do have some business I have to take care of at the bar, but I live upstairs. I'll make you dinner."
There wasn't any innuendo inferred, but she had to wonder. "That sounds nice."
"So, you'll come see me?"
"I don't think I could stay away."
"Good." His second kiss was even more gentle, and final. "Sleep well," he murmured into her cheek. As he backed away, his fingers stayed entwined with hers until her arms were completely outstretched.
"I won't," she told him.
His smile was crooked and completely charming. "Neither will I." He released her hands and spun towards Bourbon. She watched after him until he disappeared onto the busy street. Letting her head fall back on her shoulders, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
Sixteen hours. Could she possibly wait 16 hours before she saw him again?
The world started to whirl around her and Julia jerked her eyes open. It took a minute for the spinning to subside. Wow, she was drunker than she thought. Maybe Armand was right. Sober sex was much better than drunken sex.
Heaving herself off the wall, she went into the lobby and actually punched the elevator buttons. When the doors slid open, the twenty-something guys she'd seen in the hotel bar the night before stepped out and gave her a once over.
"That's a great outfit," one said. "I got some beads for you. I'm sure you got something nice under there..." He dangled a set of oversized Mardi Gras beads in front of her. She barely bothered to glance at him. His white visor was crooked on his head, and among the dozens of beads he had draped around his neck were a few with college logos and ceramic breasts. He was wearing a shirt that said something about getting bourbon faced on shit street.
Her stomach heaved, and not because of the liquor. "Thanks, but I'm good." Wrapping her coat tightly around her body, she slipped past them and into the elevator, immediately pushing the four. And then as an after thought, pressed the three as well. She didn't want these guys knowing which floor she was on.
She was so happy when the doors slid shut that she didn't even mind when the elevator lurched up. Armand's scent drifted up, and she suddenly realized she was still wearing his coat. Oops, well, she could return it when she saw him tomorrow.
Tomorrow. She would see him tomorrow. Snuggling into the plush fabric, her insides did a little step-ball-change, grapevine, 4-step-turn happy dance as the anticipation charged through her.
By the time, Julia trudged down the hall to her room, every giddy piece of energy had dripped from her body. She managed to pee and take off her wig before falling onto the bed. Something landed on the floor with a thud, and groaning, Julia groped along the carpet for it. If she didn't look for it now, she'd forget about it later, or more likely, completely. When something hard bumped into her hand she picked it up and used one, squinted eye to check it out. Just her stupid book.
Tossing it onto the nightstand, Julia rolled over and closed her eyes. Somehow, she managed to fight off the spins long enough to fall asleep.
Shoved against the wall and tucked into the corner where the bed and nightstand met, was a shining, silver flask.
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
Armand was only able to spend the briefest of moments on Bourbon before he had to turn onto an inte
rsecting street. He was already about to burst. The last thing he needed was the sexual energy that buzzed thickly on the famous street feeding his swollen desire.
Julia.
Her scent lingered on his shirt and he could practically taste how sweet she'd be. How he'd love to have shoved that micro skirt over her hips, slid her panties aside, and buried himself deep into her right there on the street.
And if he'd actually taken her up to her room...
The vivid images that poured through his mind and further enraged his cock were dark enough to confirm this was not the evening to enjoy her. His brand of pleasure was not something to take lightly, and as revved up and turned on as he was right now, he was in a pretty dangerous state.
Tomorrow, though, when he was more in control...
God, he felt like a high school boy as he subtly adjusted his member on the crowded sidewalk.
The wind whipped through the narrow street, rattling shutters and sending trash rolling across the pavement like tumbleweeds. The storm was getting stronger. It would be here before morning. Armand hoped it lost enough energy to be relatively harmless, or turned at the last moment, which was pretty common.
The storm would hit in a couple of hours. There was nothing he needed to do in preparation; his shutters were perpetually closed. But was Julia's hotel prepared? What about Julia? She'd been a little freaked out when he mentioned the storm was heading inland. Maybe he should go back and get her. Would she feel safer at his place? He wanted to call her and ask, but realized he had no idea what room she was in, nor did he know her last name or even her cell number.
Backing into a stairwell, Armand pulled out his phone and clicked on the browser. The storm was indeed spinning its way towards New Orleans, but had been downgraded to a Tropical Depression and had lost its defined eye. Just as he thought, it was expected to hit the city in a few hours, but with sustained winds only reaching 30mph, it wasn't much of a threat.
Turning off his phone and sliding it into his pocket, Armand stepped out of the stairwell and headed towards his house, forgoing any thought of going back to Julia's hotel. It was best for him to take a breath and a step away from her for the evening.
Besides, more than likely, the storm would blow over by mid-afternoon, just in time for him to wake up, Julia to finish with her conference - if it wasn't canceled - and then, their date.
His member immediately sprang back to life when he thought of her. Her smell, the taste of her kiss, the way her soft silky skin felt under his hands as he pulled her hips into his...It was enough to drive him crazy.
Years, it had been years since a woman excited him like this.
It wasn't just her beautiful body or the sweetness of her smell. Physical alone didn't do enough to entice him anymore. He was around physical perfection all the time. Having an honest, normal conversation with an intelligent, real woman was a bigger aphrodisiac than a double dose of Viagra.
And then there was the connection between them, a connection that had been lacking in all of his previous relationships. Fuck, the promise of a physical and emotional connection nearly made him run back to her hotel and knock on every door until he found her.
The idea might be ridiculous, but it made him smile as he maneuvered through the narrow alley and, without thinking, into Luxure.
The grim look Slade greeted him with slapped Armand's grin right off his face.
Fuck. Darus.
He hadn't thought of that bastard in hours.
Of all the nights to be on autopilot...He'd had the promise of quiet, solitude, and time alone with some rather enjoyable memories, and he had to blow it by mindlessly crossing the threshold into Luxure.
Ignoring Slade's persistent stare, Armand slipped behind the bar and reached for his flask. He needed another drink if he was going to get into a discussion about Darus. Patting his shirt pocket, he came up empty. The flask was in the coat he'd left draped around Julia's slender form.
She'd looked so adorable in it, the fabric hanging over her delicate shoulders like expensive silk drapes, hiding every gorgeous curve behind their heavy, amorphous form. Except every once in a while, a beautiful, shapely thigh, lightly tan with the perfect amount of muscle, had peaked out and reminded him of the temptation beneath.
"I don't know what the fuck you're smiling about," Slade said sourly. "Your cop buddy stopped by."
That was fast.
Purposefully making Slade wait for a reply, Armand pulled the Courvoisier off the top shelf at the back of the bar, filled a small brandy sifter, drank it in one swallow, and then filled the glass again. Normally, Armand was a very discrete drinker, keeping any public consumption of alcohol hidden. But right now, he didn't give a shit who saw him slam the expensive cognac, meant to be sipped and savored, down his throat.
"So what did Tim want?" Armand asked nonchalantly as he refilled the glass a final time and slid the liquor bottle back into place.
"It wasn't Tim. It was that other bastard you played football with in high school. Brian or some shit. The detective. Amazing that all those dick-head jocks you apparently used to hang with all became pigs," Slade added sarcastically.
Being skinny and sickly as a teenager, the bartender hadn't had the best experience in high school, and held a serious grudge against jock types. Of course, that was before he discovered he needed a shot of blood a couple times a week to be well, and long before he'd turned into the body builder he was now.
"Whatever. Doesn't matter," Slade went on. "You know goddamn well what he wanted. Asked a lot of questions he had no business asking. Ran half the customers out of here."
Armand turned to face his angry friend. Keeping his back to the few remaining patrons that lounged on the plush sofas in the far corner, he leaned against the bar and calmly sipped the cognac.
Slade just snorted. "What were you thinking, turning Darus over to the pigs? I thought we were going to take care of this internally."
Armand shrugged, willing his rising temper to the depths of his belly. Letting Slade ignite the fire he worked so diligently to subdue was not part of his evening plan. He wasn't about to let the business with Darus and Eve darken the pleasure he'd experienced in Julia's company.
"I have faith in our justice system. If Darus is not the man that sealed Eve's fate, drinking from her until she passed out and then leaving her for dead on the side of the street, I am sure he will be exonerated."
"It was probably an accident, but I doubt the cops will see it that way."
Didn't they have this argument the other night? "I don't buy that, Slade. If it was an accident, he would have called for help."
"What if she passed out after he left? Maybe he didn't realize how weak she was."
"Right."
"For fuck's sake, she was probably high out of her mind and you know it."
"Doesn't matter."
"Shit, Armand, haven't you ever gotten carried away? Taken a little too much, gotten a little too close to an artery." Slade's voice was starting to rise and Armand took a quick glance in the mirror at the lounging patrons behind him. They seemed unaware of the argument, the pumping music loud enough to drown Slade's increasing pitch.
"No I guess you wouldn't, would you?" Slade continued. "Always in perfect control, aren't you? Or maybe you just don't partake enough." A guttural noise resonated somewhere deep in Slade's throat. "Or at all. When was the last time you indulged?"
With more effort than he cared to expend on maintaining his cool, Armand ignored the snide tone. Letting his anger match Slade's wouldn't help the argument. Besides, the accusation that had been hurled at him twice that evening was not off base. It had been a long time since blood touched his lips, and not because there weren't available Donors. They simply weren't the right Donors.
Until now.
Darus' words buzzed in his ears. With all the tail constantly throwing themselves at you, you'd think one would be good enough. Fuck, you're an arrogant prick.
Armand didn't consider himsel
f an arrogant prick per se, but he was more selective of who he drank from than who he fucked, and he realized how that might look to the average member of the Community.
That was all about to change. The woman he hoped to sate both desires was probably passed out in her hotel room right now.
Deciding to keep his responses silent, Armand sipped his cognac and waited for Slade continue. It took a while, but finally the words surged from Slade's mouth. "So, what if Eve had been a gasper? Begging Darus to just choke her a little harder instead of begging him to drink a little more? Would you still have turned him in? People accidentally die from scarfing all the time."
"Are you really comparing Eve's death to asphyxiophilia?"
Depriving the body of oxygen in order to achieve greater orgasm was not really comparable to what they did. Erotic asphyxiation was dangerous by nature. Even the safest practice could result in death. As long as one stayed away from a major artery, infection was the greatest risk for Donors.
Armand shook his head. "Blood loss, oxygen loss...It doesn't matter. Even if Darus had accidentally strangled her while he fucked her, I'd still hold him accountable if he didn't try to get help. Especially if he bragged to me later about 'giving her exactly what she asked for'. Should I have just looked away while Darus got off on his Dracula fantasy? He left her to die on the side of the street. Was I supposed to ignore that?"
Slade ran a massive paw through his thick, black hair. "No. Of course not." He sighed. "I just hate seeing one of ours put away for something that could potentially happen to any of us. I mean, the wrong Donor, a few too many drinks..."
"That's understandable, Slade," Armand said, softening his tone. He thought of Julia and how easy it would have been to lose control had he actually taken her up to her room. The grim image of her bleeding all over the hotel room floor and Armand dialing 911 flashed through his head, and he was once again thankful he'd refrained. "But if there ever is an accident, you call for help. What we do isn't illegal as long as it's consensual."