Bite Me: A Vampire Anthology

by Cain, Addison

He didn’t listen.

  Instead, he stepped closer, the hard muscle hidden beneath his suit crushing her to the wall as he pressed his body against hers. One hand lifted to her cheek, thumb under her chin to angle her head back so their eyes met. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yes, I do. Get out before I scream.”

  Something flashed in his eyes, and part of her felt a prickle of fear — but another, deeper part hummed as he pressed her harder to the wall. “Would you scream for me?”

  Swallowing, Grace knew she was trapped. The sweet smell of his cologne filled her nose, her mouth, and as he forced a leg between her thighs she whimpered. “Please don’t…”

  “Don’t what?” he asked, voice purring as he leaned down and took a deep breath of her hair.

  “Don’t hurt me.”

  * * *

  Nicomachus

  Nicomachus looked down at the woman, her eyes clenched tight, fear flavoring the delicious scent of her with a whole new element than what he’d found on her bedding. Soap tarnished what should have been only her — chemical floral notes that made him want to make her sweat. To work her until she smelled right.

  Instead, he forced himself to step back, to release her pretty face with all those fine features that he was studying, memorizing.

  “Do I not please you?” he asked, working to keep his voice smooth, to temper the hunger that gnawed at him to force her onto the pretty, feminine bed and taste her again.

  “What?” Her eyes opened, cornflower blue, as delicate as the bones in her arms that he could snap without any effort at all.

  “Would you wish me to look different?” Nicomachus asked, feeling his tongue wrap around her modern English. Strange, but he knew the words were correct. Still, he watched as confusion filled her expression, mouth puckering before she popped her lower lip between her teeth and bit down. “I want to please you, plehara.”

  “I want you to leave!” she shouted, some of her fire returning. The same strong spirit that had beckoned him out of his stone prison. In an instant, he remembered the sight of her bound to the altar, teeth snapping at the air in her frenzy, and his cock grew heavy.

  “No.”

  “GET OUT!” Her scream rippled the air between them as she shoved at his chest, but he only stepped back because he chose to. She could not have moved him in a thousand years if he had chosen to stand his ground.

  Her chest rose and fell with deep, ragged breaths, pulse flickering at her throat, and he longed to lean forward and trace his tongue over it. To taste her, to crush her to his body and feel every inch of her skin with his fingers, before following the path with his mouth, piercing her skin with his teeth so he could swallow the scent of her.

  Not yet.

  Forcing himself to keep his hands at his sides, relaxed, he glanced at the pants and shirt on the bed and smiled. “Where are you going?”

  “Work!” Stomping past him, she picked up the shirt and pulled it on over her head, a bright turquoise that made her eyes pop and the crimson flush in her cheeks stand out on her smooth, freckled skin. With her breasts covered, she continued until she picked up the little black rectangle from the bedside and it flared to life in her hands. “I’m calling the police.”

  Nic chuckled and leaned back against the wall where her body had just been. “And what will you say?”

  She didn’t respond, tapping at the thing in her hands with a furious expression.

  Perhaps this was too rushed.

  As he watched her, frame coiled tight with tension, he knew this was not the moment to speak with her. To explain. To take her.

  Later, he promised himself. Gaining her submission would be half the fun.

  Smirking, he walked toward the doorway of her bedroom. Nic felt her eyes follow until he left the room, but her panicked voice trailed after him, teasing his balls with the stroke of her fear.

  “There’s someone in my apartment!”

  * * *

  Grace

  Licking her lips, Grace tried to push back the insane arousal she had felt when the man had touched her and tried to focus on the feminine voice of the 911 operator.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, did you say there’s someone in your apartment? Have they broken in?”

  “YES!” Grace shouted, exasperated as she stomped toward the door of her bedroom and found… nothing. “It was a man in a suit. He had dark hair, and…”

  She stopped in her living room and turned in a circle. Her apartment was small, and she knew she had seen him walk into the living room, but it was empty. As was the tiny kitchen.

  “Ma’am?” the 911 operator prompted. “What is the location of your emergency?”

  “I—” she stuttered, frozen in place as she turned once more. “I think I scared him off.” Liar.

  “Ma’am, would you like me to send police to your location?”

  “No, no, thank you,” Grace answered, staring at the front door.

  “Are you sure you’re safe?”

  No. “Yes, I’m sorry. I think it was a mistake. Thank you though.”

  “Alright, ma’am. Goodbye.” The line clicked off, the operator going to handle other emergencies Grace couldn’t think about right now.

  Walking slowly toward the front door she traced the deadbolt and her stomach turned over.

  It was locked from the inside.

  Chapter 3

  Grace

  Grace had been at work for two hours, but she may as well have stayed home sick. She was fucking useless. She’d contemplated calling in while she’d inspected both closets, her pantry, and even a few of the kitchen cabinets. But… there had been no Nic, and even though she felt like microwaved road kill, she couldn’t risk using another sick day.

  She was never skipping the flu shot again.

  Standing in front of the printer, waiting for it to finish with her stuff, Grace felt a tingle at her core and remembered the dream… nightmare? Whatever it was, it had been like a porno on crack, and she was still haunted by the men she’d imagined. So many different ones… and that fucked-up statue? Insane. What in the hell had she watched to create that monstrosity in her head?

  “You okay, Grace?” a voice asked from behind her, jolting her out of her thoughts.

  She turned fast to see Christy nodding at the printer that was now spitting out something else on top of her finished report. With an awkward laugh, Grace tugged her report out from under the new pages. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. You know… Wednesday always feels like the longest day!”

  “That’s so true.” The other woman laughed too. Pointless office small talk from someone she’d sat with during lunch a handful of times.

  “Well, I’ll talk to you later! Gotta get back to it.”

  “Sure thing. Try to stay awake!” Another round of forced chuckles from them both, which just made Grace grit her teeth as soon as she could turn away without being rude.

  She felt way too weird to try to play office politics right now.

  Wandering back toward her desk, she was doing her best to review the document in her hands when she bumped into someone full-force. “Oh my God, I’m so—” The words died on her lips as she realized she was staring at skin. A naked male chest, golden brown, and extremely well-built. That would have been worrying enough in the middle of the fourth floor except, when she stumbled back a step, she realized two things — first, it was Nic, and second… he was nude.

  “Hello, Grace.” He smiled like there was nothing at all wrong with standing completely naked, and impressively erect, inside an office building. Without an ounce of decency, he leaned close enough to breathe in her hair. “Mmm… lovely. So, this is where you wanted to go this morning?”

  “What the—” she sputtered as her brain tried to function, hands shaking as she stumbled back another few steps. “You can’t just… you…”

  “As you can see, I can do almost anything. Truly.” His lips tilted in a wry smirk, eyes roving down her body. “Now, it is time for you to come w
ith me, plehara.”

  “Ple— What? No!” Shaking her head, she tried to put more distance between them, but quickly found herself against someone’s cubicle wall.

  He simply smiled.

  “I can sense your arousal, Grace. You find me pleasing.” He ran a hand over his hard chest, down the ripples of his abs, and then wrapped his fingers around the huge cock bobbing at his hips. Stroking it, he groaned loudly, and heat burned her cheeks.

  “GET OUT OF HERE!” she shouted, and various people stopped and stared at her. A door opened a little down the hall, and she was about to scream for them to call the police when he released his cock and turned to look at the others.

  “Oh, did I forget to tell you? They cannot see me, plehara.” He was almost laughing, dark humor making the office lights glint off his impossibly black eyes… but even though it was crazy, she realized he was right. Not a single fucking person was looking at him.

  In fact, they were all looking at her.

  Actually, staring was a more apt description. They were all staring at her like she was crazy.

  “Grace?” Christy approached her slowly, concern etched into her expression. “Are you okay?”

  Unable to take her eyes off of Nic’s amused smirk, she swallowed and forced herself to answer. “I… um… I need to get out of here. Family emergency. I’m so sorry.”

  “I shall meet you on the ground floor,” Nic said, inclining his head a little before he turned to walk his completely naked ass right past all the people staring at her. Son of a bitch. She was going to be office gossip forever.

  No, she was going to have to change jobs — definitely change jobs.

  “Should I call someone to—”

  “NO!” Grace shouted, then tried to laugh it off as she forced the report into Christy’s hands, who was in a completely different department and probably shouldn’t even have it — but that didn’t matter when a naked, invisible psycho was stalking her. “No, I just… I just have to go. Right now.”

  “Okay, but maybe we should—”

  Grace turned away before Christy could finish. She didn’t want to hear the rest of her suggestion. The woman had no fucking idea what was going on. Hell, Grace had no idea what was going on. Maybe this was a psychotic break?

  She stared at the floor and hurried into her cubicle to grab her purse, avoiding all eye contact as she rushed to the elevator as quickly as possible and jabbed her thumb on the button for the first floor. Standing in the empty space, her brain whirled, unable to match reality with the insanity of a man appearing, and disappearing, from her apartment — only to reappear fucking naked in her office. She was about to start laughing at how ridiculous it was when the elevator doors opened and Nic was standing there waiting for her. Once more in an actual suit instead of his birthday suit.

  “I’ve lost my fucking mind,” she whispered, and his lips twitched.

  “I think we should talk.” The man offered his hand, but she wasn’t going to fall for that. Holding hands with her invisible non-friend wasn’t going to look good on the security cameras. Instead, she tore her eyes from him and marched toward the exit to the parking lot. Unfortunately, she could hear his shoes on the tile behind her, and all she could think of as she dug out her keys was that only really really crazy people hallucinated to this degree.

  “You are not insane.” His voice made her jump, but she bit down on the yelp of surprise as he grabbed onto her arm — feeling disturbingly real.

  “So says my hallucination,” Grace muttered as she yanked her arm free and backed away from him. Glancing at the security desk, she was both grateful and frustrated to find it empty. Weren’t they supposed to be protecting employees?

  A quiet chuckle left him as he leaned close enough that the scent of burnt sugar invaded her next breath. “I know that you want answers, Grace. Perhaps to questions you have not even asked yourself. Such as, who am I? How did I enter your home this morning… and how did I leave? And, presently, you may be asking how it is that no one else could see me upstairs.”

  Too close, overwhelming her personal space as his final question was spoken in that strange accent directly into her ear. As he pulled back, the tip of his nose traced her cheek for just a second, but it sent blood rushing and heat pooling in all the wrong places for a situation like this. Her skin tingled from the contact, flashes of her dream disrupting her already strained thoughts, but she pressed her thighs together and tried to breathe.

  “I can give you answers. I can explain it all, but I will not do it here.” Standing upright, he stared down at her, waiting.

  She had to breathe before she passed out, and she managed a weird, strangled gasp of air before she asked the most important question for the moment. “Why?”

  “Be honest with yourself, Grace. Do you really want to stand here where people are more likely to see you speaking with me?” He’d answered a question with a question, but as his gaze turned to the elevator, she felt the burning blush of her embarrassment returning in full force. It was almost lunch time and soon people would be passing through constantly.

  Dammit.

  As she forced herself to ignore the pressing pulse of arousal at her core, she wracked her brain for a way out of this crazy stalker situation. Running away seemed stupid, because he’d found her easily. Found the fucking floor she was on — invisible and naked.

  “I’m going crazy,” she muttered, and he laughed. It was a resonant baritone, nice, but it made her roll her eyes anyway.

  “You’re not crazy. I promise.” He reached forward, stroking his knuckle across her cheek before she slapped his hand away.

  “Stop touching me!” she snapped, and he dropped his arm to his side again.

  “All right.” He smiled. “I will meet you at your home.”

  “No, don’t—” Grace started to argue, but he… faded. Like every atom in his body had dispersed with a wave of a magic wand, even though the only wand she’d seen had been his— fuck.

  Focus, Grace.

  Since when had she been this sex-crazed? Sex was fun, sure, but the pornographic and creepy dream the night before? The instant panty-melting reaction she had to her invisible, magical stalker? This was weird. Over the top weird.

  Groaning at herself, Grace heard the elevator ding and dove for the exit doors. It was running away, sure, but she couldn’t face Christy or anyone else that had just watched her shout at nothing.

  Out in the bright sunlight, she had to shade her eyes as she marched toward her car, completely committed to avoiding whoever the hell was coming out of her office building — and just as committed to not going home.

  Creepy magical stalker could just dig through her underwear drawer by himself.

  Chapter 4

  Grace

  Sitting in her car, Grace enjoyed the heat for a moment before it became unbearable and she had to start the car. Then, she just sat there as the AC blew on her, because… where the hell was she going to go? And what the fucking hell was she going to do about the gorgeous, magical stalker with a voice from her darkest fantas— nope.

  Brain derailing was going to stop too. Right now.

  Going to the cops was out of the question, they’d toss her in a cell until some doctor could evaluate her. Maybe an exorcist? If she was religious that might be possible. Catholic churches probably had an emergency kit for situations like hers… or they’d just quietly call the authorities to come take her away in a straitjacket.

  She let out a scream of frustration and hit the steering wheel, just in time for two people to walk in front of her car. Fucking great. Not only did she have to figure out if her brain was broken, but she also needed to dust off her resume.

  Today was going awesome.

  Shifting the car into drive, she pulled out of the spot and drove off. Aimlessly wandering as she listened to music, switched stations, and tried not to think about how invisible stalker man had a jawline that could cut glass.

  An hour or so later, she felt exhaust
ion tugging at her and pulled into a coffee shop. Fortunately, it was mostly empty, and she was able to grab a quiet table at the back to scroll through things on her phone that she wasn’t even reading as she sipped her hazelnut latte. None of it was helpful, and there were much more pressing issues than Diana posting pictures of her kids for the billionth time.

  Slightly fueled by caffeine, and her own subtly buzzing panic about her mental health, she decided to google ‘psychotic break.’ A Forbes article popped up and she read, “In terms of what it means, a ‘psychotic break with reality’ means losing contact with reality, such as hearing, seeing, tasting, smelling, or feeling something that has no external correlate (i.e., hallucinations).”

  “Shit,” she muttered, continuing to read, feeling worse and worse as the symptoms uncomfortably lined up with her day.

  Is this what it’s like to be crazy?

  She didn’t feel crazy. She felt perfectly normal outside of the… hallucination. It was just one hallucination though! No pink elephants or strange voices in her head. Just one hallucination… that had happened twice… in less than four hours.

  Fuck.

  Groaning, she took another sip of the coffee and then immediately choked on it as her own personal hallucination sat down in the seat across from her. Coughing, she shoved her chair back, covering her mouth as another wracking cough almost doubled her over while he just tilted his head at her.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, and she held up her hand, waving away the barista who had started to step out from the counter. It took a minute or so, but, finally, she was able to take a breath that didn’t pull hazelnut-flavored caffeine into her lungs.

  Glaring at the hallucination, she hissed, “Are you visible?”

  He smiled. “No.”

  Grumbling, she wanted to yell so many things at him — it — whatever, but she scrambled for her phone first and pretended to answer it, holding it to her ear. “Hey,” she said to her imaginary friend on the line.