1 Dicey Grenor

by Grenor, Dicey

  Strangely, I felt close to him. There had been no blood exchange, no ritualistic supernatural bonding, no sex, but I felt closer to him than I had to anyone since…ever.

  “It’s probably best you don’t come in,” I whispered.

  He nodded.

  Leaning over until we were eyeball-to-eyeball, I placed both of his hands on the steering wheel. Then I unhooked his seatbelt and slowly wrapped it around his neck. My eyes never left his as I undid his jeans and began stroking the part of him aching most. I worked him with one hand, pulled the seatbelt snugly around his straining neck with my other. As blood flow and oxygen were limited to the head on his neck, the engorged head in his lap swelled hard as a brick.

  Watching him enjoy the pain and pleasure was a real treat, but I broke eye contact to bend downward where he couldn’t see my fangs as they appeared and red eyes as they changed. Although concentrating on the rhythm of his thrusts into my hand kept me from focusing on his bulging veins, it was still hard not biting him.

  The closer he got to finishing, his skin flushed and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. I pumped him harder since he was so close to the bliss he sought, the release he needed. When his chest heaved vigorously and his hips jerked upward, I pulled the seatbelt tighter. Semen shot out all over my hand in several jets, landing on his underwear and jeans. Having spent himself to completion, he gurgled and passed out.

  There had been no captivation, no mental manipulation…just me understanding what Remi needed and giving it to him.

  Fuckin’ A.

  His head rolled to the window once I released his neck and returned the seatbelt to its proper condition. The same shirt he’d worn to Hades, that now had my blood all over it, was on the floorboard. It was perfect for cleaning his fluids so I put it to good use. His breathing and coloring had returned to normal by the time I was done.

  I zipped him up, kissed his cheek and stared at his beautiful face for a moment while he slept. His strong jaw and sharp nose were great features, almost as worthy of attention as his eyes.

  Okay, enough of that. “I had a good time tonight. See you next week,” I whispered.

  Waving to my neighbors as they left room #5, I got out and walked to mine without a backwards glance.

  I had shit to do before morning.

  Chapter 8

  I waited until I heard Remi’s car leave the lot before I really got down to it. Since I didn’t have much anyway, it didn’t take me long to pack it all up and move to a room on the other side of the motel before the first ray of sunlight hit the horizon.

  I finally got to sleep around six o’clock and awakened at ten to watch my usual Sunday morning church service. It was the only way I could attend church without actually attending. Without bleeding through every pore of my body and shriveling up like a prune and waiting to be burned. It had been like this since I’d been turned.

  My parents had always said anything that couldn’t touch a churchyard was clearly damned and destined for hell’s fire. Except I’d never seen in the bible that going to church was a prerequisite for salvation. Still, our aversion to church and holy emblems was baffling. We were okay when it came to walking in a cemetery and that was blessed land. I’d had too much church experience to presume all churches were holy ground and all cemeteries were unholy. So I had yet to work out why vampirism and church didn’t mix.

  Nevertheless, being unable to step foot on holy ground didn’t make me give up on connecting with God through church.

  I’d had one hour of come-to-Jesus TV and one hour to myself before you-know-who had shown up.

  We’d been going at it for nearly two hours, bodies slapping, headboard banging. He’d been pounding me relentlessly for the last five minutes, determined to make me come again. I was already on number—oh, I don’t even remember. It was so good. I was ashamed to admit that. He’d started out slowly each time, and gradually increased speed and intensity until I could take no more. Then we’d change positions and he’d hit it again.

  He had a special gift for going and going without coming coupled with his egomaniacal drive to be the best lover ever. After thousands of years of practice with thousands of lovers, he didn’t have to worry about that. He was hands down the best. I only had one other lover to compare him with but I’d heard others speak of Max’s skills. And he was giving all of us his best.

  “Say it, Willow. Say my name when you come.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “No, fuck…you.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust then roughly lifted my knees, pinning them to my shoulders with his palms. The change of position sharpened the penetration, making me feel the beginnings of an intense burn in my belly. It was rising, threatening to send me over the edge into a sweet, sweet…

  I turned my head from him and squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating on the sensations. He grabbed my jaw, squeezed and yanked it around to face him again.

  “Say my fucking name, Willow. I want you to know who makes you come.”

  “Max,” I mumbled.

  His broad shoulders kept my knees in place as he dug his fingers deeper in my cheeks.

  “No. You say my whole name.” His lips crushed mine as his hips worked my lower body into an all-consuming heat. I stiffened and finally exploded. He let go of my face and leaned his ear to my mouth so he could hear my humiliation.

  “Maximilian!” I cried out as the walls of my body clenched and released, clenched and released, grabbing onto his dick like a vise. I rode out the waves clutching the sheets, listening to his obscene talk as he kept thrusting.

  “Fucking right, Willow. It’s Maximilian, the greatest. Don’t you dare forget it. This is my pussy, Willow.” Then he thought about how pussy willow could refer to a plant and laughed sharply. “No pun intended.”

  As I came down from the clouds, I remembered how much I hated him. “I hate you so much, Max.”

  He ignored me, just loosened his grip on my knees and lazily planted kisses along my cheeks, chin and forehead. Then he stuck out that tongue he’d used so thoroughly on me and licked my forehead and temple. Releasing my legs, he slowly pulled out, fully erect. Looking down between my legs, he began stroking himself.

  “Are you ready for me to come? Just say the word and I will not. I will keep going, pleasuring you all day long if you want.”

  “Just get it over with and get off me,” I said bitterly.

  “Don’t be hostile. You enjoy our time together as much as I do.” He shuddered as he continued stroking.

  I looked away so he wouldn’t see heat in my face. He sure was sexy.

  He smiled, aware of his affect on me. My pride was bruised all the more.

  “Just come back to me. Let me love you like this every day. That human certainly cannot,” he said.

  “This isn’t love. This is fucking. There’s a big difference.”

  “When it feels this good, who cares whether it is love.” His hand moved up and down his shaft faster. “Touch me. I’m close. You know what I want.”

  I sat up and took over, stacking my hands around his thick length, topping his head with my mouth. Careful not to bite him with my fangs, I sucked ’til my jaws hurt. I knew what he wanted all right and I hated it. Not the oral sex. I actually liked that. No, I hated what came afterward. It felt degrading when he marked me in that way. My only solace was that this was all mental—vivid as hell—but only mental. He wasn’t really here so he wasn’t really going to…

  He groaned loudly, jerked violently, and palmed the back of my head. Then he yanked my hair back, releasing my hands and mouth from his body, throwing me down roughly on the bed so he could shoot his load all over me.

  “Oh! God! Yessss!” he shouted while his semen spurted like warm Elmer’s glue. Although he aimed for my stomach and saturated it, evidence of his pleasure landed all over my breasts, face, hair, and bed.

  I lay grossed out, not only because it was all over me, but because it was Max and I knew how much he enjoyed covering me
with it. Even though I couldn’t get pregnant, he never came inside me. He’d said this way I’d know he had enjoyed himself. I think he just wanted to fuck with my head, remind me I was his possession.

  I cracked open an eye to see the damage. His head was thrown back, fangs protruding like mini-daggers. His muscles corded and strained as he continued stroking himself, continued coming. He was a vision to behold—an erotic god—and yet, I couldn’t appreciate it. I could only dwell on my contempt for him and our blood bond. He finally groaned one last time and dropped his head like he’d fallen into a coma.

  I wished.

  “Goddamn, Willow—”

  “Don’t use the Lord’s name like that.”

  “—you are so good even from afar.” He shuddered again from an aftershock. “It may be worth it to leave my hiding place just to be inside you for real again.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’d put everyone in your blood line in danger if you came out of hiding,” I said. He started smearing his glue all over my breasts and stomach then rubbed it between my legs. “Please stop. Wasn’t that enough?”

  “I can never get enough of you.”

  Before I could stop myself, tears fell from my eyes in despair. I was powerless with him. Why couldn’t I just kill him, be rid of him once and for all?

  Thou shalt not kill.

  And even if God himself told me he would forgive me, I’d have to figure out how to kill Maximilian, the great maistre vampire. He’d been undead so long, acquired so much power and supernatural gifts, he’d become nearly impossible to kill. Then there was that whole problem of if he died, so did I. That’s how humans had obliterated our population so fast. They’d become hip to our blood ties and started going after maistre vampires, killing two birds with one stone so to speak.

  I was fucked but I wasn’t suicidal.

  He stopped rubbing me and spoke softly, “Willow, why do you insist on making me a villain? Stop fighting me. Let me love you.”

  I laughed through sobs. “What do you know about love, Max?”

  “Making love is love. It can be. I worship you with my body, my entire essence. I open myself to you, give you my all.” He waved his hand like a wand across my skin without touching me, clearing my mind of the mess, replacing it with the plain black gown I’d lain down in. I wiped my eyes and rolled away from him.

  “You have what? Four hundred brides you can love? Why do you insist on staking your claim on me?”

  “It’s more like one hundred now,” he said wistfully. “This anti-vampire sentiment has not been good on my collection of beauties.”

  “You can always replace them like you did the ones you exiled.”

  “I will not dishonor them so. They were good, faithful brides who did not deserve such human betrayal and cruelty. I am bidding my time…and then I will avenge them.”

  I turned towards him, shocked. “I didn’t know you cared.”

  He was lying on his side facing me, looking across the room. He’d added a black silk robe to cover himself. The black accented his light blond hair elegantly, so much so that I almost reached out to run my fingers through it.

  His emerald green eyes lifted to mine in that moment.

  Shit, he’d read my mind.

  He reached for my face then dropped his hand when I flinched. “Of course, I care. What kind of monster do you take me for?” He looked solemn. “I picked each woman personally, indiscriminate of age, weight, height, race, class. I only required them to be beautiful and I promised they would remain that way forever if they wedded me. I was most honored when each agreed to join me in this undead life. Now they are truly dead. Gone from this existence, from me.”

  This time I did touch his hair, petting him lightly. Allowed his sweet vanilla scent to permeate my senses. He leaned his head on my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I really was. I’d never disliked the other brides.

  “You are the only one of my brides who came to me, Willow. The only one who sought me out, who I did not have to seduce, who begged to be turned.”

  I tensed, suddenly unhappy with the direction of this conversation. “That’s because I thought being a vampire would cure me of narcolepsy.”

  “Yes. I know. Still, you mesmerized me completely. How do you modernists say it? You knocked my socks off. Not only beautiful, but talented, independent, adventurous, strong-willed. The strong-willed part is the hardest to deal with, but is nonetheless one of the things I find attractive about you.”

  He grabbed my hand before I could pull away and looked in my eyes. “I have summoned all my brides and all the brothers of my lineage to come back to the clan. I need you all near me so I can protect you. Besides, there is strength in numbers. Everyone has returned…everyone but you. Come back to me, Willow. I don’t want to get word of your final death as I have the others. It would hurt too much.”

  He kissed my knuckles one at a time then held onto my hand a minute, admiring the contrast of our skin complexions, mine caramel brown, his Celtic. About as contrasting as zebra stripes. “I care too much,” he said.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. He could be so convincing, so persuasive…so sexy. But I had a “life” here, and I was enjoying it. I enjoyed my independence, my individuality, my job at Hades. And I think I enjoyed spending time with Remi.

  “I can’t,” I said, turning away, too afraid of losing myself in him.

  “Just think about it, Willow.” Then his voice hardened and he squeezed my hand so hard I thought the bones would crack. “Don’t force me to go there and drag your ass back. I will if I have to.”

  With that he was gone.

  I held my hand still until the last traces of his mental influence had waned and I could wiggle my fingers again. Then I sighed and leaned over to cut off the nightstand lamp. I wondered how long before he made good on his threat.

  “Oh, and Willow,” his voice slammed inside my head, “stay away from that human. He’s nothing but trouble.”

  Now wasn’t he the pot calling the kettle black.

  Chapter 9

  Thanks to Max’s thorough workout, I’d spent the rest of the day sleeping and dreaming. Which would hopefully keep my narcoleptic episodes at bay for a good twelve hours or more. That was one thing he was good for.

  Unfortunately, my dream had left me sad, confused, and wary. It wasn’t as vivid as Max’s psychic visitation because only my subconscious was active, but it still seemed unnervingly real.

  In the dream, Remi and I were having a good time laughing and talking then things worsened to the point of him trying to kill me. He’d learned I was a vampire and tried to drag me into the sunlight. I fought him, tried reasoning with him, and finally had to kill him. I’d cried in my dream because I would miss him.

  When I woke up, my pillow was wet with actual tears. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t cried like that since I’d become a vampire. What the fuck was going on?

  Max had been right. Remi was trouble—the deep shit kind.

  When the phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I didn’t get calls.

  “Hello?”

  “Willow, it’s me.”

  I recognized Franco’s Spanish accent right away. “What’s up, Franco?” I said while smoothing out the comforter as I made my bed. I’d given him a fake number for my employment file so Punch must have told him which motel to call, and the front desk had been accommodating enough to forward the call to my room.

  “How’ve you been today?”

  “Okay. No permanent damage to speak of.”

  “Good. I was worried about you.”

  “Well, don’t worry,” I said as I sat on the bed and braced myself for whatever was next. I didn’t buy for one minute he’d just called to check on me. “So what else is up?”

  “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, but I need a favor.”

  “Okay. I guess I owe you one.” I hated owing anyone anything for this very reason. You never knew when they’
d want to collect and you couldn’t pick which favor to agree to.

  “I need you to come in tonight.”

  “You’re kidding, right? You know I don’t work on Sundays. It’s the Lord’s—”

  He snorted. “The Sabbath is Saturday, Willow. It’s always been Saturday.”

  “I know. I just grew up with Sunday being—”

  “Oh save it. Do you really think your soul stands a chance? It doesn’t. For the last year I’ve catered to this redemption dream of yours and keeping the Sabbath blah blah blah, but I need you tonight. Valentina called in. Cin called in. Fire’s off just like you and I tried calling her first…couldn’t reach her. I got celebrity guests coming in. I’m even starting a new girl tonight so the rest of you can take more time off when you want. But tonight, Willow, I need—”

  “Fine.”

  Silence.

  “I didn’t expect you to give in so easily,” he said.

  “I owe you, right?”

  “Willow, I’m not blackmailing you. I just need you to come in and put on a great show. If there was some other reason than you holding on to some human ideal, I could understand. But c’mon—there’s no hope for creatures like us. We are what we are.”

  “Franco, I don’t expect you to understand…but you have been there for me when I most needed you. I will be there for you tonight,” I said then hung up.

  Getting dressed was depressing not just because I was headed to work on Sunday night or because Franco had scoffed my faith, but because it felt like the beginning of the end. Breaking rules had a snowball effect. It would be work tonight and what tomorrow? Would I be using God’s name in vain, having orgies, killing for sport, worshipping Buddha? Had I been kidding myself all along?

  Franco was right. I had given in easily, almost like I knew this day was coming. Like I knew my soul was already gone and I had been trying to hold on to its memory. I knew I couldn’t deny my vampire nature forever. I just hadn’t expected the time to come so soon.