by _Anthology
"Agnes," Oliver said. His voice was not loud, nor particularly deep, yet it commanded attention. "You didn’t tell me that we had guests, Agnes."
Agnes seemed a bit confused. She shook her head. "I was just coming to get you," she said.
Oliver nodded. "You can go, Agnes. I’ll serve them myself." Still looking as if she needed to collect herself, Agnes began to untie her apron as she went into the kitchen. "I’m sorry about that," Oliver said, leaning against the nearest table. "Agnes is only human. She wouldn’t recognize a pair of werewolves if you bit her on the ass." He laughed at his own joke. Natalie thought, briefly, that it wasn’t Agnes’s ass that she’d like to bite. Oliver was shorter than Matthew by a head. Natalie was tempted to think of him as thin, but no, he was simply composed entirely of lean muscle. From where she stood, looking at Oliver from the side, Oliver had a very nice ass.
"Sit down," Oliver said. "Please." Matthew pulled out a chair for Natalie, but Oliver said, "Not there. Not at the smallest table. There wouldn’t be room for an appetizer and a drink." The couple sat down at a table with room for four. Oliver came closer, close enough to press his hip into the tabletop. Natalie breathed in, analyzing the scents of fresh seafood, spices, and very male vampire that clung to Oliver. Matthew’s familiar scent came to her as well, and the mixture made her feel a bit light-headed.
"I’m never too tired to cook for your kind," Oliver said. "Werewolves are my favorite customers. Do you know why?"
Matthew shook his head. "Because you’re omnivores," Oliver said. "You have the sophisticated palates of modern human beings, and the raw instinctual thirst for blood of ancient predators. No ingredient is off the list. It brings out my—" He paused, looking Natalie up and down. "—Creativity."
Natalie glanced over at Matthew. The proximity of another male, especially one who was showing signs of interest in Natalie, should have triggered jealousy in him. If Oliver persisted in eyeing Natalie as if she was on the menu, Matthew would growl a warning– and then strike. But Matthew didn’t seem to notice the special attention that Oliver was paying to Natalie.
In fact, as Oliver crouched down beside Matthew to look him in the eyes, Natalie got the impression that Oliver’s interest in the two of them was omnivorous as well. Far from being threatened by this, Matthew looked interested.
"Appetizers," Oliver said suddenly, laying his palm down flat on the tabletop. "You like oysters, I think." Natalie had often wondered, through the years that she had known Martha and Kelly, if vampires could read minds. Oliver concentrated on Matthew intensely. He seemed to be scanning Matthew, flipping through his pages, searching. If Matthew found the scan unpleasant, his face didn’t show it. From the fluttering of Matthew’s dark eyelashes, it seemed to her that he was rather enjoying it.
"Raw," Oliver concluded. He rose, slightly, bringing his mouth very close to Matthew’s ear. Natalie had to listen very hard to hear him say, "You like the taste of the sea, how the salt water gets inside living things and makes them . . .." Natalie couldn’t tell whether or not he’d finished the sentence. Oliver’s voice was too soft.
Now he turned his uncommonly bright green eyes back to Natalie, and she breathed deeply. Matthew reached across the table and took Natalie’s hand, squeezing her fingers in his palm. She felt how rapidly his heart was beating.
"But not for you," Oliver said. "You like raw oysters, but they’re not what really does it for you." His stare was intense. It was only a stare, though. Only Oliver’s eyes, looking into hers. She relaxed. It wasn’t as though she could feel his mind moving inside hers. "Oysters casino? No, that’s not it. Something even more exotic. Oysters Rockefeller. It’s the anisette that reminds you of something."
Natalie swallowed. She had always loved oysters Rockefeller. And the sharp black licorice taste of anisette did remind her of something . . . of being a teenager and, together with her sister, raiding their parents’ liquor cabinet. Anisette tasted like forbidden delights, like a secret and dangerous joy.
Oliver nodded. "I’ll be right back," he said. He went into the kitchen. Matthew got up from the table, coming to sit in the empty chair beside Natalie. He pulled the chair close to hers and gripped her hand tightly once more. "What the hell just happened?" he said. "Why do I get the feeling he was doing more than just taking our order?"
"We didn’t tell him what we wanted," she said. "He read it out of our minds, or something. He made me remember things that I hadn’t thought about in years."
"Yeah," Matthew said. "He made me remember things, too. Nat, is it cold in here?"
"No," she said. She hadn’t noticed until just then that her skin was covered in goose bumps. "What did he make you think about, Matthew?"
"You," he said. "The taste of you, that morning on the beach. Kissing you, licking the salt water off your skin." Matthew didn’t ask Natalie what Oliver had reminded her of. Instead, he pulled Natalie’s chair even closer, so close she was practically sitting on his lap. Matthew pressed against her, snuggling up to kiss her ear. Natalie felt the hammering of his heart. His tongue lapped her earlobe, slid down her neck. His teeth sunk into their favorite place, that delicious hard knot of muscle between her neck and her shoulder. He purred a pleasured growl in her ear.
Natalie stroked Matthew’s chest through his thin shirt. Her hands dropped to his smooth, hard belly. She wanted to open his shirt and feel that naked belly pressed against her, basking in his incredible heat.
Then she remembered where she was. The were alone, for the moment. But Oliver was lurking somewhere, nearby, in the shadows of the kitchen.
Matthew knew no such restraint. Underneath the table, he stroked his way up her thighs and busied himself under her skirt. She closed her eyes and let the feverish sensation wash over her. All at once, he was deep inside her, penetrating her with two fingers. Her body shook, stunned and delighted by the sudden intrusion. Matthew worked those fingers skillfully, reaching all the spots that he knew would drive her crazy. She bit her lip and came quietly.
Matthew withdrew his fingers. Natalie didn’t have to open her eyes to know that he’d wanted to taste her. He sucked first one finger, then the other. Natalie breathed in. She smelled her own juices, then Matthew. Then Oliver. She opened her eyes. Oliver stood on the opposite side of the table, intimately close, hip touching the tabletop. He carried a silver tray of raw oysters, oysters Rockefeller, and two vodka martinis with lemon twists.
"For the lady," Oliver said, setting a drink and the oysters Rockefeller in front of Natalie. She straightened in her chair.
"For the gentleman," Oliver said with a sly wink. Matthew pulled his middle finger out of his mouth and tried to look dignified as he took the martini glass from Oliver’s hand. Oliver sighed, sounding pleased. "I’ll be back in half an hour with the main course," he said. "The clam chowder. I apologize for the wait, but you see, I have to make each batch from scratch." He lingered for a moment, then turned away and was gone.
Matthew turned to Natalie, after he’d downed half his cocktail. She sat beside him, looking dazed, inhaling the fragrances of oysters, spinach, bacon and anisette, a strong and heady mix. Natalie couldn’t wipe the deeply pleased smiled from her face. Her mouth watered, but she took a moment to savor before she dug in.
Matthew sniffed at the raw oysters, wet and shimmering in the dish.
"Don’t you trust them?" Natalie asked him, gesturing at the raw oysters with her fork.
"That’s not it," he said. "The oysters are fresh and delicious. It’s . . . it’s the way Oliver makes me feel." "How does he make you feel?" she asked, though her senses already told her. Both Oliver and the oysters had the same effect on Natalie as they had on Matthew. Oliver and his cooking aroused more than hunger.
Matthew took an oyster shell and sucked the flesh from it. "When he made me remember that morning on the beach," Matthew began, slowly, "It felt like it was happening all over again. I could smell you there, Nat. I could taste you. And then . . .."
"What?" S
he took another mouthful of hot, sinfully delicious oyster. "I remembered it wrong," he said, almost reluctantly. "Instead of remembering you, I started to think that I was on the beach with—" He laughed to himself.
"With him," Natalie finished for him. She put her hand on Matthew’s arm to reassure him. "We can’t help our appetites, our cravings," she said. "They just come to us unbidden. We can’t control what we want." She raised her eyebrows. "But, you know, sometimes things that aren’t usually on the menu can be part of a healthy diet."
He grinned. "Are you suggesting that I should eat Oliver?" Her hand moved from his arm to his thigh. "The other week, when the moon was new and you went out while I stayed home, I wondered where you went. I thought about what you could be doing. But I wasn’t jealous, Matthew. I was just curious."
"Curious," he repeated, nodding. "I like that about you, Nat. Your inquisitive mind. I’ve always been a curious person myself." He picked up another oyster. "Want one?" She nodded. He fed her a raw oyster, as she fed him one of her hot oysters Rockefeller. They sealed this loving gesture with a kiss. The time passed in a blissful haze as they slowly enjoyed the appetizers and finished their drinks.
As she took the last sip of her martini, Natalie felt satisfied and drowsy. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against Matthew’s shoulder. Seconds later, she heard soft footsteps and smelled the mouth-watering combination of hot clam chowder and hot chef. She sat up.
Oliver set his tray down on a nearby stand. He passed out another round of vodka martinis with lemon twists, this time keeping a glass for himself. Instead of vodka, though, Oliver’s glass was filled with warm blood. Cow, if Natalie’s nose was correct.
"I hope you don’t mind if I join you for a moment," Oliver said. "I just want to see that you’re enjoying everything I’ve prepared."
He served Matthew first, setting the steaming bowl on a plate before him. The chowder was New England style. "Not strictly a clam chowder," Oliver explained as Matthew took up his soup spoon. "I used quite a bit of fresh crab, too. It’s very creamy, though. The way you like it." He and Matthew locked eyes, briefly. Then Matthew tasted the soup.
"Damn," Matthew said. Natalie actually thought she saw a little tear in his eye. "Kelly and Martha didn’t even begin to describe how good this is," he said. "Not even close. I . . .." Lost for words, he took another bite. Oliver grinned triumphantly.
The smell of Natalie’s soup was driving her crazy. As soon as Oliver set it down, she attacked it and ate greedily. Natalie’s bowl of Oliver’s clam chowder looked a bit different from Matthew’s, though. While his was pinkish from the crab meat, hers was yellow.
"You also have pleasant memories of tearing into raw crab in the moonlight," Oliver said. "But you’re not as easy to please as your mate. I had to dig a bit deeper."
The spicy soup did remind Natalie of something. It took a moment for the images to come, and when they did, they hit her like a tidal wave. Before she met Matthew, Natalie had loved a man named Sanjay. The blend of spices that Oliver used in Natalie’s chowder, this cumin and curry and saffron and cayenne pepper, tasted just like the aroma of Sanjay’s kitchen. Natalie’s eyes welled with tears.
Matthew, it seemed, was too busy gorging himself on soup to notice. As Natalie glanced over at him, he’d picked up the bowl and was licking the bottom. "No," Oliver whispered, his mouth dangerously close to Natalie’s ear. "Don’t remember how you and Sanjay broke up." Oliver barely laid a finger on Natalie’s cheek, and all the sadness disappeared. Instead, she remembered sitting on Sanjay’s kitchen counter. She was naked, her legs wrapped around Sanjay, making love. But no, she wasn’t remembering Sanjay at all. She closed her eyes and imagined Oliver, moving inside her, in the warm, spicy comfort of Sanjay’s kitchen.
Matthew growled. The bite happened so suddenly, Natalie wasn’t sure at first that it was really happening. Oliver struck with the precision of a cobra. His fangs sunk in deeply, but there was little pain. Only dizziness as Natalie realized that her blood was leaving her and flowing into Oliver.
He was torn away from her in one violent motion. There was a crash, loud enough to make her believe for a moment that the world shook. Natalie struggled to her feet. The table lay overturned, and Matthew and Oliver grappled on the dining room floor.
"Matthew, no!" Natalie shouted, cupping a hand over her bleeding throat. "He couldn’t help it!" She didn’t know how she knew this, but she knew it was true.
Matthew had Oliver pinned to the floor, and seemed about to throttle him. Natalie knelt beside them, trying to pull Matthew’s hands away from Oliver’s throat. Matthew let her win. "Not my mate," Matthew said angrily. "You don’t hurt her." He turned to Natalie, suddenly tender. He turned her head to one side and examined the damage. Natalie’s neck bled freely. She tried to cover the wound with her fingers again, but the bleeding continued. She started to feel weak, and fell into the nearest chair.
"Let me close the wound," Oliver said urgently. Matthew acquiesced, letting Oliver up from the floor. Natalie moved her hand away, shuddering as Oliver licked the wound closed. He started to lick away the spilled blood, but Matthew pulled him back.
"He didn’t mean to hurt me," Natalie said. "He was just so hungry. They get so hungry this close to dawn."
Matthew looked at Natalie, then at Oliver. "It’s true," Oliver said. "I’m so sorry, Natalie. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, Matthew." He tried to catch Matthew’s eyes, but Matthew looked away.
"No more tricks," Matthew said. "You’ve been screwing with our heads all night." "No," Oliver said. "I’ve only been trying to serve you. You two have been screwing with me, whether you know it or not. You don’t know how hard it’s been to hold myself back. You don’t know how badly I want the two of you." He reached out for Matthew’s hand. To Natalie’s surprise, Matthew didn’t pull away. Their fingers intertwined. Matthew’s nose flared as he tried to sniff out Oliver’s intention.
"You don’t touch her," Matthew said, looking at Natalie. "Not unless she gives you her permission. If you still need to feed, you take from me." Oliver’s green eyes shown as he looked Matthew up and down. Natalie could almost feel his immense hunger.
Matthew examined the closed wound at her throat. He touched the wet blood on her black t-shirt. "You okay?" he asked her.
"Yeah," she said.
"I’ll bring you some more soup," Oliver said to Natalie. "There’s more on the stove."
"No," she said. "I’ll get it." As she walked into the kitchen, Matthew still held Oliver’s hand, though he looked uneasy. Oliver’s kitchen was stocked with supernaturally clean stainless steel appliances. The only evidence of food at all was the two pots of soup simmering away on low heat on the stove. She found a bowl and a ladle and served herself a generous helping of the yellowish, curried soup. She wished she knew where Oliver kept the vodka.
She returned to the dining room to find that the overturned table had been righted, though there was still clam chowder and vodka on the floor. Matthew was sitting, his black shorts and briefs hanging over the back of a second chair. Oliver knelt on the hardwood floor, between Matthew’s legs. He drank from an artery in Matthew’s thigh. Oliver’s hand stroked Matthew’s erection.
Natalie took a seat at the smallest table. She ate the clam chowder, watched, and listened. With a growl of pleasure, Oliver licked Matthew’s wound closed. Without a moment’s hesitation, Oliver’s mouth moved from the bite marks to Matthew’s cock. Matthew stroked Oliver’s black hair gratefully.
Natalie held her soup spoon with one hand and reached into her skirt with the other. She’d never seen Matthew like this before: so dominant, and yet so vulnerable. She felt it in her clit. Just hours before, she wouldn’t have believed how much it would turn her on to watch Matthew with another man.
She couldn’t stop eating the clam chowder, though. Its Sanjay’s-kitchen flavor, together with Matthew’s increasingly fervent moans, were the perfect backdrop to the erotic images playing in her mind. Sh
e imagined the three of them on a blanket on the beach under the moonlight, she sucking Oliver off and tasting his semen while Matthew made love to her from behind. And occasionally, Oliver would lean in and steal a kiss from Matthew’s lips . . . .
Matthew cried out sharply, and Natalie knew he was nearing a climax. Oliver was about to get his dessert. Perfect timing, as Natalie was just about to reach her own climax.
Just then, there was a soft thud. Natalie opened her eyes. Oliver had dropped to the floor. He was asleep.
"What happened?" Matthew asked. "It’s the sunrise," Natalie said, laughing. "They can’t help it. When the sun comes up, vampires go to sleep whenever and wherever. I once saw Martha pass out in the middle of eating a filet mignon. She might have drowned in au jus if we hadn’t put her to bed."
Matthew laughed helplessly. Natalie dropped her spoon, stepped around the gently snoring Oliver, and took Oliver’s place between Matthew’s legs.
"No," Matthew said. "Not with your mouth." Natalie nodded approvingly. She tugged off her panties and positioned herself in Matthew’s lap. "You’re so wet," he whispered as their bodies fit together. He tightened his grip on her ass and growled.
Natalie was surprised by Matthew’s sudden aggression. He’d been so passive, almost submissive, to Oliver. Maybe that was why she so enjoyed this sudden role reversal. The pleasures of voyeuristically watching Oliver and Matthew together were still vivid in her mind. Now she imagined herself in Matthew’s place, captive to the desires of a beautiful, but dangerous, stranger. She could only imagine how it felt to be Matthew at that moment.
Matthew reached up to pull off Natalie’s blood-stained tee, and she took off her bra for him. As he suckled her nipple, Natalie closed her eyes tight and imagined that the gorgeous sensation that Matthew’s mouth gave her breast was the same feeling that Matthew felt as Oliver suckled him. She moaned, dangerously close to her climax. Matthew then slid his hand between their intertwined bodies, down Natalie’s belly, and found her clit. The gentle, but insistent, pressure of his fingers was all it took to send Natalie over the edge.