La Luxure: Discover Your Blood Lust

by Cd Hussey

  It wouldn't have mattered if there had been an open seat. The moment she saw Armand, she stopped dead in her tracks, swallowing hard against her heart as it attempted to lurch from her mouth.

  He looked amazing in a pressed, red, button up shirt, and black silk trousers. His hair was loose and softly framed his strong facial features. And even from where she stood at the back of the room, she could tell he wore a smudge of black eyeliner, a touch of color on his full lips, and his face was powdered to a luminescent sheen.

  He was the perfect vampire. And neither the makeup nor the dramatic clothes bothered her. He just looked...gorgeous.

  "Whether you drink for passion, sustenance, or any of the heart's other desires," he was saying, his deep, rich voice sliding from the speakers and down Julia's spine. "There are no excuses for irresponsibility. And, like safe sex, safe blood drinking should be the rule, not the exception. Thank you."

  Applause filled the room. Armand gave a quick gracious nod and stepped from the stage.

  "Holy shit," Clare breathed in her ear. "I'd forgotten how fucking hot he is in person."

  Julia forced some air into her lungs. "Yeah," she exhaled.

  "I can't believe you fucked him." There was a smidge of bewilderment to Clare's statement. "Sorry," she responded to Julia's dirty look. "It's just...wow, I think I'd cum the minute he touched me."

  "Something like that."

  Clare patted Julia's arm excitedly. "He's coming this way!"

  Armand was slowly sauntering towards them, shaking hands with audience members as he made his way to the back of the room. He'd closed half the distance when a couple dressed head to toe in their vampire finest stopped him. As he chatted with them, more people gathered to talk with him until a small crowd blocked the path leading to her.

  It was excruciating waiting for him to make his way through the group. She was a jittery wreck as it was. Like a corral packed full of wild horses, her nerves cantered recklessly through her insides, looking for a way out. Doubts and second thoughts began to overpower her desire to reconnect with him. She didn't think her heart could bear his rejection, and if Clare wasn't standing between Julia and the door, she might have bolted through it.

  And then abruptly, his eyes were on her. One minute he was nodding and smiling politely as a rail-thin man spoke, and then his gaze lifted and fell directly onto her. His brow furrowed as he took her in, and seconds later, recognition flashed across his face. She saw him mouth, "Excuse me" to the man, and then he pushed his way through the parting crowd.

  "He recognizes you," Clare chirped in her ear, the pitch of her voice high with giddiness. Julia wanted to swat her away like an annoying insect, but her body was frozen where she stood.

  Her vision reduced to a tunnel focused only on him. Clare, the crowd, everything disappeared until all she saw was him, all she felt was him. Nothing and no one else mattered.

  He stopped in front of her, and her heart followed his lead and quit beating. Any moment she was going to fall on the floor dead.

  "Julia." His tone was cool and reserved, but his expression was a mixture of conflicting emotions: longing, apprehension, anger, desire. She couldn't tell how he felt about seeing her.

  Her mouth gaped liked a fish but no words came out. There was so much to say, so many regrets and laments to express, but her vocal chords were as frozen as the rest of her. She could feel the tears building in the corners of her eyes, and blinked against them. If she could just speak, she could give him the apology he deserved.

  "You look..." He paused, his hazel eyes pained. He set his jaw and swallowed. "Amazing." The words were barely spoken above a whisper.

  That little bit of affirmation was enough to thaw her vocal chords, and her mouth purged at a million words per minute. "Armand, I'm so sorry for everything." The tears erupted from her eyes, but she couldn't be bothered to wipe them. She had to get her apology out before he told her to fuck off. "I was such a stupid fool, a judgmental, arrogant bitch, and I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again. But-"

  He cut her off, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a heavy kiss. Her heart took its cue and leapt back to life, her body following its lead. Throwing her arms around his neck, she returned his kiss with all the passion she could muster. Weeks of pent up emotion exploded from her and filled her: all the longing, the need, and the relief. There were aspects of the raw emotion pouring from Armand that matched hers, but it was clouded in the bitter taste of anger. She could actually feel the pent up rage as he gripped at her.

  "Goddamn you," he hissed, jerking away from her.

  Oh God, he really was going to tell her to go to hell. She braced for impact, preparing to scrape the remnants of her heart from the floor after he stomped it.

  Instead, she felt a firm tug on her arm. "Come with me."

  Pushing past the curious crowd, Armand lead her across the conference room floor. Warm tears saturated her cheeks, and she made a quick swipe at them with her free hand. If she was going to face Armand when he told her exactly what she could do with her feeble apology, the least she could do was not look like a blubbering idiot.

  Just before they slipped though a closed door and into a small, adjacent conference room, Julia caught sight of Clare. Her sister gave her a questioning glance, and Julia shrugged meekly in response. "Text me" Clare mouthed and held her hand up to her ear like a phone.

  The sound of the door shutting behind Julia was like a gunshot.

  "So, I'm supposed to forgive everything, just like that?" Armand turned to face her, his arms folded tightly across his chest, a scowl darkening his features.

  She shook her head. "No. I don't expect you to. I mean, I hope, I wish - but I know I don't deserve it." She wiped again at the rapidly escaping tears. "I really am truly sorry, Armand. It was just my stupid pride. I couldn't admit I was dumb enough to believe something so ludicrous unless I'd somehow been misled. I said things..." she took a deep, ragged breath. "And I wrongly blamed you."

  "You expect me to believe that you are suddenly okay with all this?" He waved his hand around the empty room, indicating the conference in the halls outside. "That you don't think I'm some blood drinking creep seducing innocent women into his house of perversion."

  Her voice was as weak as she felt. "Yes?"

  "But I have a fake life remember?"

  She winced. "I don't believe that. I didn't even truly believe it at the time. I was just so stupid angry, I couldn't admit it, or see how ridiculous I was being."

  "Is that why you jumped on the first plane out of New Orleans?"

  Her knuckles hurt she was wringing her hands so hard. "I couldn't be so close to you knowing I'd screwed everything up. It took me a few days to get my head straight, and by then it was too late."

  "Damnit, Julia. Do you know how much you fucked with my head? How crazy you've made me the last few weeks?"

  "I'm so sorry-"

  "And what happens tomorrow?" he asked, cutting through her words. He moved closer and her heart caught in her throat. "After I take you up to my hotel room and fuck you all night - because you know that's where this is inevitably heading - and you wake up and realize you don't really want to be with this freak after all," he jabbed a thumb at his chest, "that what you truly desire is some doctor or lawyer and a house with a white picket fence."

  She shook her head fiercely. "That won't happen. I spent years pursuing a mundane life and wondering why I was so unhappy. But when I was with you, I was happier than I've ever been. Nothing, no one has ever made me feel the way you do."

  He closed his eyes. "I want to believe you," he whispered.

  "Please," she begged, finally giving into the tears and letting them fall without interference. This was her last chance to fight for him. "I have never been more sincere about anything in my entire life. The things I said to you...I would take it all back if I could. You didn't deserve any of it and I wish-" she paused. There was so much regret she wanted to express, but she couldn't quite
find the words. "I just wish I could go back and do it over," she said quickly. "Any pain I caused you, I am so very, very sorry."

  Slowly, his eyes opened and the intensity in those hazel orbs nearly knocked her off her feet. For a long moment he studied her, a million conflicting emotions crossing his face. When she could not longer bear to look at him, she turned her stare to the floor and tried to regain some form of composure under his scrutinizing gaze. She knew this was what she deserved, and as hard as his rejection was to accept, she knew she had to.

  Finally, after three or four indelicate sniffs, she turned for the door. "I'll go."

  "Julia. Stop. Jesus, just stop." Grabbing her shoulder and spinning her, he cupped her face in his hands and enveloped her mouth in a soft, sensual kiss. All the anger had drained away, and the only thing she could taste was his passion, his desire. Tentatively, she kissed him back, savoring the silky softness of his full lips and the warmth of his tongue as it gently pulsed in her mouth. In case this was the last time she would ever feel his lips on hers, she wanted to remember every sensation with perfect clarity.

  Keeping her face in his hands, he slowly pulled back. "Please don't cry," he whispered. "I forgive you."

  That only made her cry harder. "Really?"

  His smile was small as he wiped at her tears with his thumbs. "Yes. Completely."

  If the world ended right then, Julia would die in utter bliss.

  * * *

  Armand kept his eyes locked squarely on hers until she blinked that she understood. No matter what had transpired between them, no matter how torn up he'd been the last few weeks, he hated to see her so devastated.

  "I am not completely without fault in all this," he admitted. "You were right. There is a bit of a...façade to my personality that I don't often let people see past. I could have been more upfront with you. I should have been more upfront."

  "I should have looked harder. I mean, the very first conversation we had was about looking past what's on the surface."

  "I know. The irony wasn't lost on me." Tenderly, he kissed each of her cheeks in turn. It felt so good to have her in his grasp. "Put your tears away, Julia. I was secretly hoping to see you here. I longed for this moment."

  She nodded, the movement tiny and jerky.

  He caught her gaze again. "You are truly okay with all of this? The conference, the Sang Community, Luxure, my desires...?"

  "Completely."

  "And you realize I'm wearing makeup."

  "I know."

  "That I put on myself..."

  Her laugh was small and teary and sounded perfect in his ears. "Well, you look fabulous. You'll have to share your technique with me."

  It was more than he dared hope for. "I should have never let you walk out that door," he said, shaking his head. "I nearly chased after you and demanded a better explanation. I wish I had. We could have hashed this out weeks ago."

  "I almost drove down to New Orleans a few weekends ago. I made it to Memphis and then turned back. I was too afraid and ashamed to face you."

  "You would have saved my employees a few weeks of hell if you had. I haven't been the best boss lately." He bent to gently kiss her. "You really did a number on my head, Julia Brown," he drawled in her ear.

  "If I have to apologize every day for a hundred years, I'll do it happily."

  "That won't be necessary. All that matters is that you are here now."

  "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

  "No?" He eased his body close to hers until her breasts were pressed softly against his stomach and her scent overwhelmed him. "I do have a room."

  Chewing at her bottom lip, she lifted her eyes to his. "Would it be presumptuous of me to say, lead the way?"

  "Not at all. I only hope I can wait that long. Being alone with you in here has tested my resolve as it is. The elevator might prove too tempting."

  Her hand in his, Armand led her from the small conference room. Just as they reached the elevator doors, Julia stopped abruptly. "Clare!"

  "Your sister?"

  She nodded. "Clare actually brought me here," she admitted sheepishly. "She was my back up plan in case things didn't go well."

  "With you in that dress how could they not?"

  He loved the tiny blush that crept into her cheeks. "I really should let her, um..." Her brow twisted. "Let her know I won't be available for a bit."

  Armand grinned. "A little longer than a bit. I can take you home in the morning. Or maybe next week, or next year." He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. "Or how about never."

  "Mmm, I like those numbers." Julia moved closer, and Armand was anxious to taste more of her when a cell phone chirped happily from somewhere deep in the folds of her purse. She sighed. "That's probably Clare. Do you mind?"

  "Not at all. Go ahead."

  She pulled out the phone, scanned the text message and typed a brisk reply. "She's cool," she said as she slid the phone back into her purse. "So, where is this room of yours?"

  * * *

  Several hours later, basking in the aptly described afterglow, Julia nuzzled against Armand's chest, her body draped softly over his. The room was a wreck. There were clothes and bedding strewn everywhere, the lamp on the desk was knocked over, and somehow, the TV had been turned sideways on its stand. Julia didn't remember being anywhere near the TV.

  "I'm so glad I drummed up the courage to come here," she murmured into his chest.

  "Me too." His fingers lightly traced the curve of her back. "I've never felt - " he paused, swallowed, then cleared his throat. "Julia, I - "

  She lifted up on her elbows and interrupted his struggle with a soft kiss. "Me too," she said gently.

  He peeled a strand of sweat soaked hair from her face and rolled the hair between his fingers. "So, I, um, I know it will be difficult," he said quietly, an uncertainty to his smooth, deep voice. "I love New Orleans. I've spent my entire life there. I wish I could say I wouldn't mind moving." He tucked the hair behind her ear. "I'd love you to move closer to me, but I'm not asking you to drop everything for me. I know you don't like to fly, but I can fly up at least a couple times a month."

  She smiled inwardly at the thought. He remembered she didn't like to fly. She'd happily board any plane to be with him. "That won't be necessary," she told him. His breathing stopped and his body stiffened beneath her. "I quit my job today," she continued, hoping to relax him.

  It didn't work. "Why?"

  Julia shrugged. "My life has never quite felt right. But ever since New Orleans happened and I met you, it's felt completely wrong."

  "What are your plans?" His voice was quiet and laced with trepidation.

  "I don't know for sure yet. I'd planned on traveling for a while, try and figure out what to do with myself. That's all changed now, though. Hasn't it?" She paused. "Do you like to travel, Armand? If you have the time, we could take a trip...?"

  He hugged her close, the tension fleeing his body. "I love to travel. How about Europe, or if you want somewhere warmer, I have a house in Cozumel. It's beautiful, sits right on the beach."

  "You have a beach house?" She laughed, realizing there was so much about him she didn't know. It was okay though, there was plenty of time to learn. "I thought you didn't like the sun."

  "That's what umbrellas are for. Besides, the beach is just as beautiful at night. And more private."

  She snuggled deeper into him. All the pieces of her life were quickly clicking into place. It was exactly as the smarmy fortune teller had predicted that very first night in New Orleans. She had found a new love and he had indeed awakened a woman she didn't know existed. And if a little blood fetish here and there was the decent into evil, well, she'd better start wearing more black.

  She still wasn't sure exactly what the future held, but right now, everything was perfect, and she was happy to accept it as it was. "That sounds amazing," she breathed. "When do we leave?"

  "How quickly can you pack?"

  Dive deeper into the blood lu
st. Keep reading to preview de Sang, the next exciting book in the Human Vampire Series!

  Shit, his hand was trembling.

  Slade glanced down at the key quivering in his hand as he attempted to slide it into Luxure's front entrance lock. Like the withdrawal tremors of an alcoholic after an all night drinking binge, his shaking hand was a symptom of a craving that had gone unsatisfied. Body shakes were next. Then, if he was lucky, a migraine, and finally, debilitating, chronic, endless fatigue.

  He was like a goddamn junkie and blood was his fucking drug. Without it he was sick as shit. With it, well, he was just normal.

  With considerable effort, Slade managed to settle his hand long enough to shove the key into its cozy home and turn the dead bolt. Flicking on the lights, he stepped into the empty bar. For a place that was open seven days a week, Luxure was impeccably clean. There wasn't a spot of dust on the hardwood floors, and the black leather furniture glistened with a light, polished sheen. The scent of lemon cleaner hung on the still air, and it would take at least three sticks of incense to camouflage it.

  It was too pristine for Slade's tastes. He liked things with a little more dirt to them, more substance, more character. But Luxure wasn't his bar. And, like the majority of his life, Armand Laroque, the bar owner and Slade's closest friend, preferred clean control.

  Slade didn't have that luxury. He was bound by the thing that kept him healthy. Blood had him neatly in its control.

  Not that he was really complaining. For Slade, craving blood wasn't a horrible desire. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't that that different than sleep, or food, or water. As a bonus, the vampire lifestyle was tailor made for him. The only problem was the source of his drug.

  He pulled out his phone and hit speed dial. "Nikki? I'm sorry to bug you. I know it's only been a couple days. Do you think you can swing by the bar tonight?"