Bitter Fruits

by Daltry, Sarah

  “Well, yes. When I see a woman like you, pure and yet emanating sex, I am naturally drawn to doing nasty things with her, in hidden nooks or in public.”

  I laugh. “Pure?”

  He smiles. “In some senses, yes.”

  “Do you have a name?” I prod.

  “Alec, my dear. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He bows, completely solidifying the moment and the evening. It’s ridiculous, yet in the here and now, it is exactly what I need to lose myself.

  “I’m Nora. Yours as well.” I make a small curtsy and allow Alec to lead me to the dance floor. He holds me close to him and I feel him harden, even through the fabric of my gown. Definitely impressed, I think to myself and imagine all of the ways this night could end. The swells of the waltz take over the moment and we move perfectly together.

  “You’re a skilled dancer,” I compliment him.

  “I have a great deal of experience.” I try not to let jealousy ruin this. Other girls maybe, but he stopped to talk to me. That alone makes this entire night worthwhile. When we get to the end of the dance, he dips me low and I want to let him take me there on the dance floor. He creates a craving in me that is unfamiliar and yet welcome. His hands are strong and he holds me as I fall backward. I want those hands all over my body. Instead, his lips brush against my neck before he pulls me back upright.

  I take his hand. “Maybe there is a nook after all,” I tease. What is wrong with you? But the voice is silenced as we walk.

  We cross the room and move toward where the altar would have been, when another man stops us. His mask is more subtle, a simple silver covering of his eyes. The silver accents the deep blue that peers through and I want to reach up and run my fingers through his dark hair. That stag’s blood must have had more in it than wine, juice, and a little liquor. I cannot believe the things I am thinking tonight. This stranger is taller than Alec, but dressed in a similar fashion. His shirt is black and his pants are a deep red. Of course, my eyes move right to his crotch; he could challenge Alec in that area. Where have these guys all been hiding on campus?

  “Brother, I see that you have found yourself some… entertainment. It did not take long,” he growls at Alec.

  “I am merely attempting to enjoy myself. Why is that such a problem? Are you angry you could not ruin tonight as well?”

  They stare at one another, tension mounting, and I try to excuse myself. This fight does not concern me and it makes me uncomfortable. I am also sexually drawn to each of them and I worry that I will get myself involved in something that is too heavy for a boring English major. I haven’t had a history of complicated relationships and this? This just screams complicated. I make an effort to leave, but Alec clutches my arm. “Don’t go,” he says through gritted teeth.

  The man in the silver mask smiles at me; it is the smile of an animal eying its prey. “I’m Caleb,” he says. “My brother seems to feel manners are overrated.”

  “This is Nora,” Alec says. “And we are going.”

  “We are not here for entertainment; we need to-”

  “She isn’t here. You may as well try to have a little fun. Tomorrow will come regardless of tonight.”

  “Go on then,” Caleb interrupts. “Have your fun,” he says mockingly, and stalks off.

  Alec loosens his grip on me and his face brightens, his fangs glinting in the candlelight. “All apologies, madam. Now, you were leading me somewhere?”

  It turns out, unfortunately, that every nook is full of people who seem to have had the same idea. Alec and I glance around, hoping for an alternative. The sensuality of the party, the smell of sex, and the sounds of pleasure are nothing like the awkward, groping frat parties where I usually spend my evenings. Thank you, Scarlet, I think. Since there is nowhere in here to go, the only choice seems to be the grounds. The night is chilly, but I have my cloak and I expect Alec will keep me warm.

  “Want to take this outside?” I suggest.

  He grins, mischievous and sexy, and I feel my nerves sparkle as he takes my hand and leads me out the door, to a field next to the church. The ground is rocky and cold, but he lays down my cloak and moves me to the ground with such grace that I feel my body giving in to him without a thought. He gets on top of me and runs his hands along my arms. The hairs on my arms prickle; I know instantly that I will give myself to him. I reach for his pants and brush my fingers along the outline of his cock. He is hard and I want him desperately. I’ve never been this forward; my sexual experiences have been more of the sort that involved a lot of fumbling and asking, “Was that it?” There is something about Alec, though. I let the magic of the evening wash over me and forget about tomorrow.

  His lips bear down on mine and his tongue spreads my lips, teasing my bottom lip ever so slightly. I take out my fangs, although he does not do the same. Clutching at his back and running my hands down into the edge of his pants, I feel the soft flesh below the fabric. I realize there is nothing between his pants and the fullness of him; the arrogance and sexiness of such a decision is thrilling. Alec lets out a low growl as his lips move to my neck. His tongue circles along my collarbone and he bites me lightly as he makes his way upward. My neck is slightly raw from the tease of his fangs. They are pretty damn realistic.

  “Mmmm,” I moan and his hand slips under my dress. His hand caresses my thigh and I move to push myself closer to him, hoping to feel his fingers brush me where I am now dripping wet. I need him, all of him, right here on the ground next to the church.

  “Nora, you are beautiful,” he whispers. No one has ever called me beautiful before and the agony in the way he says it is even sexier. He makes it sound like looking at me is painful, yet it is the most tantalizing agony possible. I understand, because when I turn to meet his eyes, sharp heat sears through me. His eyes do to me what I want his hands and his body to do; I melt beneath him as his lips come back down. Something between us explodes in the kiss and he gasps, pulling away.

  “I want you,” he says. “I want all of you.”

  “So take me,” I tell him.

  “I can’t. You are too good, too beautiful, too pure. I cannot-” His voice catches in his throat and his hand moves out of my dress. His face is torn between desire and fear; I don’t know which emotion to address, but I am not ready for the night to be over yet.

  “What? Why?”

  “Oh, Nora, you deserve more than a fuck in the dirt. You deserve someone to love you. If only-”

  It is romantic, but I really wouldn’t mind the fuck in the dirt. My body is on fire and wants to be close to his and I don’t care if he promises nothing past tonight.

  “Take me,” I whisper. “I will be yours here and later if you want, but take me now, I beg of you.”

  There is a weighty pause; his eyes are luminous and his hands reach out for me, but he stops short of touching. Instead, he rises and brushes himself off. I look up and see that his body is fighting his retreat, but he overpowers his lust. He reaches down, helping me to my feet. “It’s too dangerous. This step - well, you did not ask for all that comes with it. I don’t have the right to demand forever from you. This is too much of a commitment when we just met.”

  Great, I think. He’s a religious freak. I don’t care about his policy on premarital sex or whatever the issue is, but the wine is wearing off and now I’m just frustrated. The reality of the night breaks any lingering hope when a girl runs from the party screaming.

  “He is a monster,” she cries. Blood spills down her neck and onto her light pink dress. She barely gets beyond the steps before collapsing face first into the dirt. A crowd forms at the entrance of the church and I see Scarlet, wrapped in the embrace of a masked man I don’t recognize. I turn around to ask Alec what’s happening, but he is gone. The only evidence he existed at all is my cloak in the dirt and the stinging bite on my neck.

  The girl’s name is Chloe; I think she’s a freshman. Her friends rush to her aid, carrying her from the party while she continues to scream about monsters.
I don’t know if she’s okay, or why she was bleeding, or if anyone else knows. No one seems to worry, besides her few friends, though, and everyone moves back inside. The party continues but the evening has been tarnished for me. I find Scarlet standing against the wall by the door, holding the mysterious man’s hand. Torn between my own selfish questions and those about Chloe, I say nothing as I approach. I want to ask about Alec, to find out what she knows of him, but it seems wrong. Scarlet is relieved to see me, although she doesn’t seem as scared as I feel.

  “Nora,” she says as she hugs me. “I’m so glad you are okay. Did you see what happened?”

  “What was that? Why was she bleeding?”

  “Some people take role playing a little too seriously. No one saw the guy but he bit her. Can you believe that?”

  I should be worried about Chloe; I should want to check on her, but there are crazy people everywhere. My mind instead goes back to Alec. I look for him, but he’s not here anymore. I don’t know how he managed to disappear as fast as he did. I didn’t get his number or anything. How am I supposed to see him again? I feel like a terrible person for not focusing on Chloe, but my nerves are aching from the incompleteness of our moment. I yearn again for his touch and it shames me. My body is so desperate and another girl could be hurt. This is not like me, but I can’t deny that a part of me likes it, the recklessness of it all. Still, I breathe deep and try to come back to the present. Priorities.

  “She’ll be fine, once the evening and the eventual humiliation wear off,” the man in the mask says. I recognize the voice although I don’t know from where. It’s familiar, but the night has drawn a line between my real life and this world. Trying to piece the two together is impossible.

  “Oh, Nora, this is Henry,” Scarlet says. His mask covers most of his features, but something about his posture is familiar as well. I know I must know who he is. I assume he is probably in one of my classes, because I can’t escape the impression that I see him every day.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say, not trying to place him right now. There are too many other things on my mind.

  He removes his mask. “We already know each other.” I see his crinkled eyes first; I know where I’ve seen that amused yet wary look. It is only halfway through the semester but I have gotten to know him well. Henry is not Henry, but Dr. Kenyon, my mythology professor. My favorite professor - the one I go to with all of my college girl problems. Academic problems, which makes this about as awkward as it can get.

  “Um.” There is not much else I can say. Scarlet’s been known to do things that others would consider odd or even dangerous, but a professor? That’s daring even for her.

  “Strange circumstances to discover similar peccadilloes, no?”

  “How do you know each other?” Scarlet asks, running her hand along his chest in a way that tells me that, tonight, I may be sleeping in the lounge again. The haziness and the wonder of the night disappear for good; we’re back to the problems of my typical life. And now those problems include my roommate trying to sleep with my professor.

  “Mythology,” I say.

  “That’s cool. Nora loves that class. She’s always going on about her professor. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she had a thing for him,” Scarlet says.

  Admittedly, Dr. Kenyon is still young for a professor - and way too sexy to be so wrong for us. I can’t really blame her, especially since she didn’t know that he taught here. I mean, if I met him in similar circumstances... However, I most certainly don’t have a thing for him and now, I am grateful for my mask which covers most of the blush that is burning my face.

  “Oh, does she?” He asks.

  “She does not,” I reply. “Oh, she really, really does not.”

  “C’mon, Nora. You’re always like, Dr. Kendall-”

  “Kenyon,” I say - at the same time as Dr. Kenyon.

  “Kenyon. Dr. Kenyon is so smart; Dr. Kenyon said this super funny thing in class. Dr. Kenyon-”

  “First of all, I don’t talk like that. Secondly, I absolutely do not have a crush on my professor. My professor that you happen to be draping yourself over right this very moment.”

  Scarlet looks at me and I shrug. She pouts, her hand not moving from his chest. “Will I be in trouble for this?”

  “I’m not your teacher,” he argues. And with that, my mythology professor and my roommate begin their relationship. I keep my mouth shut, because he has his own apartment and doesn’t want to be seen in the dorm. This is the first time I have been able to sleep in my own bed after Scarlet scores one of her conquests. It’s a good thing, too, because I am restless tonight. I can’t stop thinking about the evening and my intermittent dreams are of a handsome stranger with emerald eyes. I really wish we’d at least had that one moment in the dirt.

  2.

  It’s a few days later when I walk out of a study session in the library, at nearly midnight because I truly do not understand statistics, that I hear the voice again. Alec is sitting on the wall bordering the library entrance. I recognize him immediately, but without his mask, I’m disappointed to see that he is even more attractive. I don’t like being drawn to beautiful men who appear and disappear with no effort; relationships with this sort of guy tend to end badly.

  “No ball gown?” His voice is light, joking, but I look down at my ragged jeans and sweatshirt and realize I am out of my league. He isn’t dressed the same, either, but his dark pants and light blue shirt look like they were purchased at one of those stores where clothes don’t have price tags and you get a personal assistant for your shopping. The sort of stores I have never, and likely will never, shop in; I don’t even know people who do.

  “No wolf mask,” I tease back, hoping the attempt at humor covers my doubt. Dressed in a gown, surrounded by candles and incense, I could keep up; here on campus, in clothes I basically planned to wear to bed, Alec intimidates me. It isn’t only his physical beauty; something about him seems to reach me through the autumn night and make me burn for a world I didn’t even know I was missing. The way he looks at me makes me feel like all of the words from all of the stories I’ve ever read have come to life and become flesh. Perfect, sexy, and untouchable flesh.

  “Your hood was black, but I am no less a predator,” he says, warning and sorrow mixed in his tone. “The mask just advised you what you were getting.”

  “What am I getting? Because you certainly disappeared fast enough.”

  “It was best not to be privy to the cries of monster,” he says, reminding me of Chloe. She’s fine now physically although she seems lost. Her roommates said that she has taken to sleeping all day and then walking the campus alone at night. We are in a reasonably safe area, but the behavior is still weird. Everyone thinks she might be a little insane. I think she is just sad; she has been quoting Lucy from Dracula, which spells pathetic to me. She took the party too seriously, but being this close to Alec again, I can see how that could happen to a girl. Reality twists into something new when he smiles.

  “Do you know something about her?”

  Alec hops down from the wall and approaches. My body reacts to him again and I try to turn it off. I can’t feel this, not when I don’t even know what his intentions are with me. He made me feel beautiful for one night, but it was one night and bad things happen when a girl assumes one night is the same as a lifetime.

  “Walk with me,” he says and I let him lead me up to the crest of a hill. The moon is full and Alec lies back on the grass, gesturing for me to lie down beside him. It is chilly; the autumn air is growing closer to winter every day, but there is enough warmth between the two of us to keep me from complaining.

  “Do you trust me Nora?” Alec asks.

  “I barely know you.”

  “Do you want to know me? Because I want to know you. Every inch of you.”

  He moves even closer and the same electricity is there between us, linking me to him while my mind tries to reason with my body. His lips brush mine and, with that, my body
is his; still, he does not do more than kiss me lightly. Comfort and frustration mingle in the touch of his lips. Knowing nothing about Alec doesn’t matter; there is nothing I can do now that I have met him. He feels like a memory that I had long forgotten.

  “Yes, I do. Trust you and want to know you,” I tell him, pulling him down on top of me and letting his hands begin their exploration. He slips my sweatshirt over my head and kisses along my breasts, my entire body needing more of him but afraid to beg. His lips caress my collarbone and neck; I feel the same sharp twinge that I felt outside of the church. I push him back and see his fangs, this time glinting in the moonlight.

  “Do you always wear them?” I ask.

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that,” he says.

  “Ugh. Are you one of those people so enraptured by fantasy that you had your teeth permanently capped? Lame,” I tease, ignoring the fact that I am still turned on despite this absurd character flaw. There is something so animalistic in his touch, so primal in my urges. Within seconds of being near Alec, I lose all sense of the world and just want to be touched. I hate girls who lose themselves in men, but this is not the same. I am aware of every decision I am making, of every part of myself that I am giving to him; what is different for me is that I want to give him even more than he is demanding.

  “We do not always make the right choices in our youth,” he says.

  I let him bite me. The fangs don’t break the skin but the possibility is there. When his lips reach mine, I feel my body ignite; his tongue tempts me and I want to take this further. I am growing wet and excited and his hands on my breasts aren’t nearly enough. I push them down between my legs and he unzips my jeans. My hunger is unstoppable and I don’t wait for him to get my pants off before I reach for his belt. He begins to breathe heavier and I almost have him freed when he suddenly stops. His fingers are right along the edge of my panties and I almost scream in agony, needing him to touch me.

  “No,” he says. “I can’t.”

  “Please,” I beg, while he drags out the moment, his fingers inches away from the satisfaction I crave. He tugs his hand away and zips my jeans, before buttoning his own pants and ending the moment way too prematurely.