e.Vampire.com

by Scarlet Black

  He was gone in an instant, as if he’d never been there. He moved too swiftly for either mortal or even some of the younger vampires to see. He was hundreds of years older than Dorian, which made his abilities far more potent than his. The passage of time increased their powers.

  Dorian could move fast, see what others could not and had other abilities, but he didn’t fool himself; Malachi was much stronger than he.

  He got up and looked out at the sky. Dawn was about to break and he needed to get to his safe place.

  Quickly, he took a piece of paper and wrote a short note to Jennifer and laid it on the pillow next to her. He took one of the white roses from the crystal vase which sat on the night stand and laid it on top of the letter.

  He took one last, longing glance at her face. It was peaceful as she slept the sleep of the innocent. He brushed his lips lightly against her forehead, breathing in the smell of her and quickly went to the bomb shelter which lay beneath the house.

  Sleep wouldn’t come easily tonight, not until it was forced upon him. He unbolted the heavy, leaden door which even a team of strong mortal men couldn’t possibly wrench open, slid the dead-bolt into place and climbed down the cement steps.

  He’d been fortunate to find such a place. There were still many of these bomb shelters in Miami, which had been built during the Cuban missile crises of the 1960’s.

  This one was unique in that it had been constructed underneath the house instead of on a separate part of the property. The interior was made of dismal gray concrete. He’d installed a generator which provided him light and he’d adorned the walls with brilliant frescos and much loved paintings.

  He’d constructed book shelves which covered an entire wall and contained a lot of his favorite books. He owned many literary works from classic English and American literature to mainstream fiction as well as ancient scrolls he’d purchased in the various places he’d visited around the world. He read a lot of non-fiction as well; books on history, politics, biographies and more.

  He wondered if Jennifer shared his love of literature. There was so much he didn’t know about her, or she about him. Unfortunately, he’d have to be cautious about what he shared.

  In the very center of the room was his sleeping chamber. A huge ostentatious canopy bed, with heavy velvet bed curtains on three sides. When closed, there was no light left in the sealed room. Even though he was exhausted he couldn’t stop his racing thoughts.

  What was he thinking? He had no business being with Jennifer and he knew it. What was there about her he simply couldn’t resist? He’d had many women since his birth to darkness, both mortal and vampire alike. And the tenderness he’d shown her. He’d had to struggle with himself not to do the things he normally did with women; those things he’d been taught.

  She was different. He’d resisted the temptation to whisk her away to the dark island and take her in ways that would most certainly shock her and definitely drive her away from him. And the realization that he didn’t have to struggle so hard against his dark desires; that he didn’t want to do those things with her startled him.

  “Fuck and suck,” that’s what Malachi called what they did there. But, that was only a part of it. They tied them up, cuffed them, chained them, whipped them and fucked them in every way imaginable. He didn’t want to hurt Jennifer like that.

  “Whores,” Malachi called them. What of the female vampires among them? Why weren’t they whores? They were even more brutal than the males.

  Both male and female vampires took willing participants into the private rooms at e.Vampire.com. They had every manner of sex with them, all the while, taking small drinks from their throats. Mindful to use the ability to conceal the minute puncture wounds with a sweep of their hand when they were done with their mortal lover.

  That was the main purpose of the private rooms, at least for the vampires. The mortals were drawn to them by the promise of the sexual adventures the word “private” implied. The games played there were minor compared to the sessions at the dark island, a place where the most depraved forms of BDSM were practiced.

  The dark island was where men and women who wished to be completely dominated by their “vampire” dates were taken. When they left, their wrists were raw and red from the leather shackles or handcuffs or whatever other devices they'd agreed too. They had scratches, marks, cuts and bruises from the more deviant sexual acts committed there.

  Some came back again and again for more, others never did.

  All had signed a Release of Liability form at the time of acceptance to the dating service. That ensured they’d dared not speak of what went on at the dark island. The ones who wanted more wouldn’t say anything and the ones who didn’t were probably too embarrassed to admit they’d engaged in such debauchery.

  Either way, they had no recourse. The form was entirely legal and enforceable. Theirs was not the only club of its kind, especially in Miami. The others probably had some kind of similar form.

  The vampires were forbidden to kill any of them. To do so would bring suspicion upon e.Vampire.com. Even in a city like Miami, where murder and sunshine seemed the order of the day, they couldn’t underestimate the Miami Police Department’s Homicide division. The department did an excellent job in a tough place, there was no denying it.

  Dorian’s struggles went beyond just resisting his sexual nature. There was the hunger for her blood as well. Watching the vein in her neck stand out at the very height of their passion, the urge to sink his teeth into it and drink from her almost overwhelmed him.

  Then a strange thing had occurred. His lust for her company, her body, the love of her sweet laugh and the promise of everything he’d seen in those hazel green eyes outweighed his blood lust. He didn’t want to harm her in any way. He missed her already. Just what was it about the girl that made his heart pound, his cock throb with want, and cause a deep need in him to protect and even cherish her?

  He couldn’t tell anyone how he felt about her. He could barely admit it to himself. He knew damn well he’d crossed the line and broken the golden rule. He was falling for a mortal.

  The concept of e.Vampire.com had been founded in part due to his unbearable loneliness. Isn’t that what he’d hoped for, to find someone like Jennifer to share his life with?

  In the meantime, he’d created Taylor & Van Ness, the computer software empire which provided him great solace. It kept his mind busy and he truly loved creating software programs. On some days, it was the only thing that kept him sane.

  Although, he hadn’t killed anyone, he was far from innocent. He’d done dreadful things and in doing so was corrupt. He’d taken victims in wanton sexual acts, tied them up and hit them while sucking the blood from them. Most were willing participants. Of course, they had no idea he’d taken blood from them. With a wave of his hand, he eradicated any trace of the bites.

  In these modern times, he didn’t need to take blood from humans, instead, he fed on blood taken from blood banks and heated by a wonderful machine known as the “microwave.”

  Still wasn’t his very existence evil itself? He didn’t know if he was good or evil. Perhaps he was a complex mix of both, just as mortals were. Did God look down upon him in hatred? Did the Devil himself look up at him in admiration? He’d never been given a sign from either. His conscience was his only guide. Now there was Jennifer. Would she become his downfall or redemption?

  She’d surely force him to take a hard look at himself. He’d committed sin after sin, knowing deep down in his heart that his actions were wrong and yet he’d chosen to act on them.

  His arms and legs began to tingle; he felt his body temperature dropping like a stone. There would be no more time left for thinking.

  Unlike Jennifer, who was pliant and able to move in sleep, he could not. He slept like the dead. Finally, he could fight it no longer, his eyelids closed and he was lost in sleep.

  Chapter 11

  Jennifer woke with a start, unsure of where she was for a moment. The
n she remembered and turned to Dorian, but he was gone. She sat up; pulling the covers around her thinking maybe he was in the bathroom.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hint of green and white against the gold pillow.

  A perfectly bloomed white rose without so much as a hint of brown tarnishing its edges lay upon it. Underneath the flower was a neatly folded piece of paper.

  She picked up the rose and smelled its sweet scent. What a lovely way to awake. The gesture was thoughtful and romantic. She thought of the night she’d just spent with the enigmatic Mr. Taylor and blushed. He was both classy and wicked. Her body was hot, just thinking about him, his body, his hair, the things he’d said about her mouth, and of course those piercing icy blue eyes. But mostly, she thought about the fact that a man like him wanted a girl like her.

  She opened the letter, which was made of the finest paper and perfectly folded. Again, she was impressed by his beautiful penmanship. It was so unexpected in this day and age.

  Dearest Jennifer,

  Thank you for the lovely evening. You are in a word, spectacular. The rose I’ve left you pales in comparison. If I were there, oh what sweet caresses I would lay upon you with the delicate petals of that flower. You’ve utterly captivated me and for that, it is I who fears you! I wish we could spend the day together, unfortunately, I have pressing matters to attend to. In the meantime, Enrique has been instructed to prepare whatever you wish for breakfast. Perhaps, you’ll choose the croissants. I can just picture your mouth nibbling on them. I hope you’ve not forgotten what I want to do with that mouth. I shall text you at precisely 8:00 pm this evening.

  With Love,

  Dorian

  She felt her face flush with the thought of what he wanted to do with her mouth—and the flower. God only knew what went through the man’s mind. Laid on the bottom of the bed were a fluffy, white robe and a matching pair of ballet slippers. She slipped on the robe. It was so decadently luxurious. Slipping on the shoes (which fit perfectly) she truly felt like a princess.

  She went into the bathroom, hating to shed the robe and jumped in the shower. It took a few minutes to figure out how to turn it on. It was a multi-headed shower encased in a terra-cotta and sea shell pink enclosure, complete with a rock wall where a water fall ran continuously. Once the shower heads were turned on, she was pleasantly bombarded on every side with hot, steamy water.

  She lifted her face, allowing the soothing fluid to rain down on her. The shower was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. There were many types of body wash and shampoos, all with names she’d never heard of. She opened and smelled each one. They were all exquisite. Unable to choose just one, she poured some of each into her hands and spread the lather all over her body. The feel of the foam against her skin coupled with the never-ending light spray of water was so deliciously sensuous, it was almost erotic.

  She toweled off with gold colored towels made of Egyptian cotton. She’d seen these in stores and heard Julie rave about how splendid they were but they were so expensive. She’d never bought any. She’d bet her life that the sheets on Dorian’s bed were Egyptian cotton as well. There was nothing in this master bedroom suite that was not top of the line.

  As lovely as it all was, she wished he was here with her. God would he be surprised at the wicked thoughts she was having about his mouth, among other things.

  She fell down onto the soft bed, propped up the pillows and checked her cell phone. She had 10 messages. She clicked through them. There was a reminder from her boss regarding paperwork due for a deposition on Monday. The rest were from Julie, except one. There was a text message from an unknown number. She looked at that one first. It was from Dorian. She felt her heart leap into her throat, her stomach muscles clench. God, what is he doing to me? Just the thought of him typing with those long fingers, which had provided her with such immense pleasure the night before was making her long to be with him again.

  The text was simple: I look forward to seeing you tonight. I shall pick you up myself. Remember, I will text you at exactly 8:00 pm. I expect you to answer me straight away.

  Kind of bossy, she thought. And yet, she was thrilled by the words. He wanted her. She thought it a little amusing that even his text messages sounded British. Bossy or not, she’d be waiting to answer that text.

  She had a lot of texts messages from Julie, which went from, Just checking in to see how you’re doing to Please call me. I’m really worried now!

  She did owe Julie an explanation. The girl and her other co-workers were virtually all she had here. She had a few relatives and friends scattered in the Northeast. Her cousin, Tina was the only one she spoke to on a regular basis. Tina kept her abreast of all the gossip up there as well as any problems that came up with the house she’d left behind but still owned.

  She called Julie who picked up on the first ring.

  “It’s about time! Jesus Christ, Jen! Where are you?” Julie sounded worried.

  “If I told you, you’d never believe me.” Jen teased. She couldn’t help it.

  “Tell me anyway. Are you at least okay? You sound like you’re feeling much better than when I texted you yesterday morning.”

  “Oh, I’m more than okay Julie. I’m at his house.”

  “Whose house?”

  “Who do you think? His house.”

  “You’re at . . . Dorian Taylor’s house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shut the fuck up! No way! How in the world did you end up there?”

  She briefly explained the unexpected invitation and the lovely dinner, but nothing more.

  “So, did you do it?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell.” She smiled mischievously, anticipating spending tonight with him.

  “Well, if you don’t want to say. Oh the hell with that! Just tell me one thing. Was he as good as he looks?”

  “Better.”

  “Holy shit! I can’t believe you let him fuck you on your first date. And here I thought you were an innocent country girl!”

  Geez, did everyone use the word “fuck” these days when talking about making love? It sure seemed like it.

  Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door.

  “Hang on a sec Julie. There’s someone at the bedroom door.”

  “You’re in his bedroom? Is he there?”

  “Yes I am. And no he’s not. Listen, can I call you back when I get home?”

  “Sure. Make sure you do. You slut! I’ll have more questions.”

  “Later gator.” She clicked the phone off.

  Pulling the robe tightly around her, she went to the door. Ian Devereaux stood there, armed with a silver serving tray which held a carafe of coffee, an elegant porcelain teacup, a small crystal pitcher of milk and a matching bowl of sugar.

  “Good morning, Ms. Reese. Mr. Taylor thought you might like some coffee in privacy while you get ready for your day. I’ll come fetch you in shall we say, a half-hour?”

  “Come fetch me?”

  “For breakfast of course. What would you like? Enrique can make anything you want.”

  She thought about Dorian telling her how good Enrique’s croissants were. Even more, she thought about what he’d said about picturing her eating them.

  “I’ll have the croissants.”

  “Very well, Enrique will prepare them now.”

  Chapter 12

  Jennifer was relieved when Ian came for her. The kitchen was a good distance away and she would have found it difficult to locate. As they traveled through a never ending maze of hallways, she marveled at the sheer size and elegance of the house. The outside boasted a Mediterranean style and the inside kept the same theme. All of the doorways in the main part of the house were arched and open.

  Looking up she noted the ceilings were either tray or vaulted. Most of the house was painted in a light off white, very tasteful. Even with its modern decor, the house exuded warmth.

  She peered into the dining room where the now empty, highly polishe
d dining room table sat. She blushed, recalling what Dorian had said he wanted to do to her on that table.

  “Nice!” Jennifer exclaimed when she walked into the kitchen. It was huge. The cabinets and trim were all cherry wood, and the counters black granite with chips of stone which flickered intermittently like embedded jewels. All the appliances were stainless steel. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that they were the best money could buy.

  Enrique looked up from the stove, if you could call it that. It was astounding with its many electronic buttons and large cooktop.

  “Good Morning, Ms. Reese.” He smiled cordially.

  “Good Morning, Enrique.” She sat at the breakfast bar on one of the padded, wrought iron stools and watched him move about the kitchen. She noticed how handsome he was. His hair was a deep lustrous brown, his teeth pure white and he had a full mouth and large brown eyes.

  Geez! Is everyone around Dorian Taylor flat out gorgeous or what? She thought.

  Gorgeous or not, no other man could hold a torch to Dorian as far as she was concerned. There was something in his beautiful eyes that touched her very soul.

  “I’ve prepared croissants as you requested.” He set down two plates in front of her. “Chocolate and Pecan. I was unsure of your preference Ms. Reese.”

  “Please, call me Jennifer. I love chocolate, but the pecan ones look really good too.” She put one of each on the serving plate he’d laid out for her.

  Looking up at the clock, she noted it was coming on the noon hour. She really should be getting home and preparing for work tomorrow. She knew damn well her boss was going to expect double the work just for giving her Friday off. God, she hated him!