"Erika, I'm not like that. We should get to know each other first."
She laughs. “Monica, I met you years ago. We already know each other. If you're going to take me to bed, then do it. I passed on that party to be here with you, so let's make a party of our own."
She jumps up and heads for my bedroom. There was nothing left for me to do but follow her. She plops on my bed face up. I stand over her, still amazed that this was happening.
"Are you going to kiss me now?"
I don't hesitate. “Yes."
I climb on top of her, and for the first time, my lips meet hers. She has the softest lips I have ever felt. I put my hands in her hair and slowly move them down to her shoulders. I feel her hands on my waist.
She smells like strawberries, the scent I had grown accustomed to ever since she bought that new perfume. The scent I want to inhale up close as I put my lips on her neck and kiss her skin. I hear her moan when I do that. I feel her hands grab my waist tighter.
She kisses me hard and slow. She wants it. There's no doubt in my mind about that.
I put my hand on her breast. I'm not afraid to do it.
She whispers in my ear, “You've always liked my breasts, haven't you?"
I'm sure my face is beet red as I gush in my panties. Here I am, with this beautiful woman who wants me as much as I want her.
She unzips her blouse and removes her shirt. I stare at her bra and the mounds of her creamy flesh. She brings her hands to the center of her bra and unclasps it, removing it completely, allowing her breasts to fall out.
My cunt can't be any wetter at this point. I drop my lips on her nipple, moving from one to the other, like I'm sex starved.
She pulls my face away from her breasts and kisses me again. She's breathless and topless. I want her naked.
I unzip her pants, pull them off, and throw them down by the side of the bed. Her panties are pink, outlined in maroon lace.
I stand up so that I can take off my sweatshirt and pants. I'm wearing nothing underneath. I never wear underwear when I'm hanging around the house.
Erika stares at my naked body and smiles a little, blushing at the same time.
I climb back on top of her and kiss long trails down her neck, on her chest, and down to her full breasts, and then further to her perfect navel.
"I'm ticklish,” she laughs.
"Good! I like making you laugh."
"No ... don't!"
"Okay, I'll stop."
I'm staring at her panties. I want to take them off, but I feel like I should ask her first. No need. She does it for me. She knows what I want to do.
She has this perfect little patch of black hair between her thighs.
"Open your legs for me,” I whisper.
She does, closing her eyes and blushing again. Erika gets this look on her face when she's shy about something. She has it now. It turns me on.
I lean up to her and adjust the pillow under her head.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Yes.” She closes her eyes.
I lower myself down and nuzzle my nose into her cunt. Her scent is enough to put me over the edge right there. My mind is willowing, because I can't believe I have my face in the woman I've been lusting after for three years, not to mention the fact that she tastes better than any woman I've ever had.
I look up at her. Her head is back, deep into the pillow. Her eyes are still closed. She has a lustful look on her face. It feels good for her, and I'm confident of that.
I lick her more, sucking her clit into my mouth as she grows increasingly wet.
"Oh ... God, God."
"I'm not God. I'm Monica."
We both laugh as I dive into her more. She puts her hands in my hair.
"Mmm ... keep doing that!"
I'm licking her clit as fast I can, loving every inch of her. She's wet. Really wet. Her juices leave a spot on the sheet.
The more vocal she gets, the faster I lick. She grabs a fistful of my hair, pushes my face into her, and opens her legs even wider.
After Erika comes, she lies very still. I move up to her, lay down by her side, and put my arms around her. She moves in to me, and I feel better than I have in my entire life.
"I love you, Monica."
She loves me. And I love her. Of course, I do. We've known each other for years.
"I love you, too, Erika."
Later we make love some more. She kisses my lips, caresses my nipples, but she's a little hesitant to do more than that, at least not yet. I'm not offended. I've had the best night of my life, and we've got plenty of time.
[Six]
Around midnight, we're starving. I don't have much in my apartment, so we decide to make a run to the store. Junk food, pop, all sorts of stuff that we don't really need, but want.
I'm strutting down the street like a rooster, because I've got the girl of my dreams by my side. She grabs my arm sometimes, but doesn't hold my hand. Once again, I'm not offended. Erika's never been with a woman, and even I am not at the point where I'm brave enough to walk down the street holding a woman's hand, anyway.
"So what do you want?” she asks, as we enter the store.
"Barbecue chips."
"Yuck! I want plain."
"We'll get both and some soda, too."
"Diet?"
"Yeah, cool, sweetie. Diet. This stuff is my treat, okay?"
"No, Monica. I'll help pay."
"No woman of mine is paying tonight."
"Oh ... I'm your woman?"
"Tonight you are."
"I can live with that."
The biggest smile ever appears on my face.
Then, after we pay, just as we're about to leave, the door opens and in walk Christy and Peggy. I can't believe it. We all visit this store a lot, but why did they have to come in tonight?
Erika had been holding my arm, but she let go as soon as she saw them. Christy and Peggy walk up to Erika, acting like I'm not in the room.
"What are you doing here?” Christy asks. “I thought you had to study? That's why you didn't come out with us."
"I thought I'd visit Monica tonight.” Erika's voice is low.
"Believe it or not, the party was lame. So a bunch of people are coming over to my place. Kevin will be there. Remember that guy you met? He asked about you.
"Thanks, but not tonight."
"What? Didn't you hear me? Kevin will be there."
"Maybe she doesn't want Kevin. Maybe she wants Monica.” The glare on Peggy's face is as sharp as it was the last time I saw her.
"Peggy, please. Monica, let's go.” Erika rushes out, and I follow her.
"Don't ever call us again, you dykes!” Peggy screams.
"We won't,” Erika yells back.
In the dark, we walk a few blocks in silence.
"That was a nice thing you did back there. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, actually,” she says. She takes a deep breath and seems to stand taller. “I've been getting tired of them for a while now."
We don't say anything, just walk to my apartment. I put the key in the lock, but before I open it, she gives me a kiss on my cheek.
"With all this junk food your woman would like to get a real breakfast tomorrow, okay?"
I laugh. “Of course!"
* * * *
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Unchained Heart
© Jae Knight
New Orleans, Louisiana, March of 2001
In what other city besides New Orleans could you expect to see a Goth band fronted by a vampire? None came to Marty's mind.
She stared at the newspaper spread out before her on her kitchen table. She drummed her crimson-painted fingernails on the glass surface and bit her lip, wondering. Marty had attended two of Symphonic Dream's concerts. Their music was lovely, as was their guitar player—Cameron Mayhem—who was six feet and six inches of solidly-muscled, dark-skinned, alpha-male deliciousness.
There she sat, stari
ng at an ad in the paper for a new bassist and back-up female vocalist. Marty could sing. She could play the bass guitar. And she was female. Check, check, and check.
The other vampire, their previous bassist, was apparently no longer with the band. If the lead singer—Vallon Paige—was a vampire, and the ex-bassist—Korinna—was a vampire, why wouldn't they let her join their band? Provided, of course, they liked her skill enough.
Still, a part of her balked at the idea of making herself so visible to a crowd, to the human fans that flocked to see Symphonic Dream at every gig around town. Hadn't she suffered enough rejection in her life to satisfy her masochistic side? Apparently not, for Marty could already feel steely resolve straightening her spine. That position was going to be hers.
The man named Cameron would be, too ... or so she hoped.
* * * *
"How many band members are we going to go through before the year is out?” Adam Zanders huffed in frustration as yet another hopeful left the room. The auditions for the next female backing vocalist and bassist for Symphonic Dream drug on.
"I've got a good feeling about this, Adam. I think once we find the right woman, we'll have a band member for life,” Cameron answered. He ran a large hand over his smooth, shaved head. He, too, was feeling the strain. The auditions had been going for two hours already.
Adam raised a brow at his friend. Usually Adam himself was accredited the description of positive and always smiling. But after Azure had been murdered and Korinna had left the band inexplicably a couple months prior, Adam's upbeat attitude had taken a beating.
For Cameron Mayhem to be the voice of optimism was downright stunning. For as long as he'd known the man, Cameron had possessed a serious and quiet demeanor, almost to the point of being funereal. It was touching that Cameron tried to boost his band mate's confidence, especially as it was so rare.
Not that Adam would ever admit it.
Adam watched as his friend's dark and handsome face lit in surprise, and perhaps even lust, as the next tryout walked in. At first Adam only heard her heels tapping the concrete floor of the back room of the tattoo parlor that the band's lead singer owned, but as his head turned to greet the newcomer, his breath left his lungs, too.
She was fair skinned and quite tall, although not as tall as Korinna had been, and dressed in low-rise jeans with a black tank top. She carried a black leather guitar case slung over one shoulder. Her dark brown hair reached just past her shoulders, sleek and shiny in the overhead fluorescent lighting. The eyes that glittered at them as she smiled were the most striking sky blue either man had ever seen.
Cameron cleared his throat and cleverly disguised his face into an expression of relaxed concentration and polite interest.
"What is your name?” Adam asked, as he was the primary ‘interrogator’ at this audition.
"Martina Cassidy, but I prefer to go by Marty, if you don't mind,” she answered and gave them a winning smile, made all the more lovely by the adorable Monroe piercing she had. Adam saw Cameron shifting uncomfortably in his seat beside him.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Marty. Whenever you are ready...” Cameron prompted, and Adam's jaw fell open in shock. Marty was the first girl Cameron had spoken to all day.
Marty murmured her thanks and set her guitar case on the floor. She pulled out a hot pink bass guitar and set its pink leopard-print strap gingerly around her long, slender neck. She bent over to hook it up into the amp and a smile crept across Cameron's face.
Her eyes focused on Cameron as she strummed a few experimental chords and then parted her lips to let loose a voice that raised chills on Cameron's strong, tattooed arms. He didn't know what song she sang but he knew it was the most beautiful he'd heard. Was it because the song reached his soul or merely the fact that it came from her? Cameron couldn't say.
"Love will set you free and lift you up out of the darkness once you let it inside. These chains around my heart have at last been broken. Never say that love is impossible for it has even found its way to me,” she sang, her gaze never leaving Cameron's own chocolate brown eyes.
When she finished, no one spoke. It was as if she had woven a spell. A spell with which she had Cameron fully ensnared.
"Wow. That was great. We'll call you if...” Adam started but Cameron cut him off with a gruff response, “The position is yours."
Marty laughed and flashed that engaging smile of hers.
"What was that song you sang?” Adam asked, hiding the frown that pulled at his mouth from Cameron's hasty decision.
"It is called ‘Unchained Heart.’ I wrote it when I was fifteen and decided to perform it here for you guys on a whim. Now I am glad I did,” she answered with a laugh.
"Adam, why don't you go let the others know that try-outs are over?” Cameron asked him, and Adam decided not to argue. It was plain his friend wanted to be alone with the new bassist.
* * * *
Marty put her guitar back in its case as Adam left them. She bit her lower lip as she thought of how she could make an excuse to hang back with the man with the deep, velvet voice that had sent shivers all over her body and turned her insides to jelly.
Marty snapped the case shut and rose slowly to her full height as she heard him rise from his seat and step softly toward her. When she turned she could see his gaze whip dutifully back to a clipboard he held in his hands.
"If you could leave us your information so we can contact you about practices...” he began awkwardly, and took a deep breath. She almost laughed at the expression in his dark eyes that said he wanted to kick himself.
"Oh, of course,” she replied, taking the clipboard from his hands. He had strong, long-fingered hands that she suddenly envisioned on her skin, running over her breasts and down her hips to grasp her buttocks. Marty bit back a moan. Her mouth went dry.
"So, uh ... I didn't catch your names,” she stammered as she handed the clipboard back to him.
"The redhead is Adam Zanders, drums. I play the lead guitar. The name is Cameron ‘Mayhem’ Lucas,” he answered with a bone-melting smile and extended his hand, his delectable hand, in greeting. She grasped it in her much smaller one and almost sighed as his warm fingers closed over her own.
He was so tall. His shoulders were wide and bared to her by his black tank top, so like the one she wore but filled out with rock hard muscle instead of her smallish breasts. He wore black jeans covering long legs and big, black combat boots. God, he was amazing. Intimidating, perhaps, to some, but irresistible to Marty.
The mocha-toned skin of his arms was covered in tattoos to the wrists with tribal designs, and she could imagine those arms holding her. She flicked her eyes away from his in hopes he would not be able to read the thoughts swimming in her head.
"About that song,” Cameron began, and Marty smiled.
"I wrote that after I was adopted when I was fifteen. I spent many years of my childhood being moved from one foster house to another. But my parents adopted me and showed me what it was to be loved, and this song was a result of that new feeling. Did you like it?"
"Yes, I did. Perhaps sometime you'll play the song for our lead singer, Vallon. We might like to perform it, if that's okay with you,” he told her while he awkwardly held the clipboard as if he knew nothing else he should be doing with his hands.
"Really? That'd be great. I've never performed it for anyone but my parents before. I'm flattered that you think it is good enough for a live audience,” she told him, then cleared her throat.
What else is there to say? she wondered. She was used to getting a little flustered around attractive men but never like this. Cameron turned from her, striding with his long-legged gait back to the table where he and Adam had sat. He set the clipboard down and leaned his hip against the table.
"Perhaps you would let me take you to dinner or out for drinks sometime?” he asked, and Marty almost dropped her guitar case. Marty thought he must have misread her surprise, and he hastily added, “Now that we are band mates, we s
hould all get to know one another."
Now or never, Marty. Go for it.
"Or we could go alone. Just the two of us,” she said, surprised at her own audacity.
Cameron smiled widely at her, and his warm, chocolate-hued eyes caused her breath to catch in her throat. She returned his smile, hoping to let him know with that one look that she was interested. The ball was in his court now, so to speak.
"Alright. I'd like that. I know a good place to eat. My uncle owns a restaurant. They serve barbeque, seafood, and good old-fashioned Southern soul and comfort food as well,” he suggested.
"Sounds perfect, Cameron. Give me a call sometime this week. I'll be looking forward to hearing from you,” she told him as she walked up to him. She shook his hand and felt a little ridiculous doing so, but she couldn't do what she really wanted to do and kiss the man.
Not yet, at least.
* * * *
Two days later, Marty ran naked from her bathroom, dripping wet, into the living room of her small apartment to answer the phone.
"Hello?” she asked somewhat breathlessly.
"Hey, it's Cameron. I was wondering if you'd like to meet me at the tattoo parlor on Friday around seven o'clock, and we'll go to dinner."
His deep velvet voice sent shivers all over her damp body. Belatedly, she realized she was soaking her carpet but couldn't summon concern about it. “Yeah, sure. Sounds great,” Marty answered and wondered why she couldn't manage to sound cooler.
"Great. I'll see you then?” he asked.
"Yeah, for sure,” she said, slapping her forehead in frustration as she said goodbye, hoping he hadn't heard that loud, wet slap.
* * * *
Friday came, and Cameron waited outside the tattoo parlor, Under the Gun Tattoo. He looked at his watch for the fiftieth time and wished he hadn't headed out so early. He'd already been there a half an hour and there was still a good ten minutes until she was due.
"Still waiting?” Lily asked, and he about jumped out of his skin. Lily was Vallon's wife and Symphonic Dream's new manager, and he hadn't heard her come out of the parlor.
"Yes. I arrived too early,” he answered and felt his cheeks heat.
Lily smiled, her golden eyes alight. “She must be quite a girl to have you blushing like that, Cameron Mayhem. Don't be embarrassed. Vallon's blushed a time or two, as well,” Lily confided, and he laughed a little.
Coming Together: At Last, Volume Two Page 16