“Hello,” her hallucination responded, looking extremely amused. Dick.
“Why are you here?” she asked softly, trying not to look like she was glaring at empty space in front of her.
“Because you did not go home.” He leaned back in the chair, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. “I waited for you.”
“You could have continued waiting.” Forever, she added in her head, and he chuckled.
“Patience has never been a virtue of mine, and I think I’ve waited long enough for you.”
“What does that even mean?” she asked, her voice turning slightly high-pitched as she tried to control the feeling of panic rising inside her.
“Just another of the things I’d love to explain to you if you’d meet me at your home.”
“I’m not— you— this is insane! Why am I even arguing with a hallucination?” Leaning forward, she blocked him out by bracing her forehead on her hand. “Maybe I should go to a hospital.”
“That’s unnecessary. You’re perfectly healthy and the tired feeling will pass. Have you eaten yet today?” he asked, sounding almost concerned. As if he — it — actually was. Or maybe that was her own mind reminding her she’d skipped breakfast… and lunch.
Shit.
“Perhaps you should get something to eat.” As the suggestion left his lips, her stomach growled. The fucking traitor. He just laughed. “I think you’ll feel better, be less grumpy, if you grab one of those pastries.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped, and he gave her a look that said this-is-what-I-mean. She returned his snarky look with her own you-don’t-even-exist glare.
“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Let me feed you tonight, and then I can eat too, and we can both go to bed much happier.”
Dammit, why was his voice so sexy? Like a growly, buzzy, humming low-thing that found its way between her thighs and made her want… things.
Things that she didn’t actually want. Not. At. All.
No, it was probably just another symptom of the psychosis. This gorgeous man-hallucination hybrid was most likely just a result of her dry spell since she’d broken things off with Eric… which had been… hell, had it really been nine months? Okay, yeah, that was a while. It had to be the reason she was dreaming up Hottie McCreeper. The same reason she’d had a crazy dream about a gang bang from both her best fantasies and her worst nightmares. There was probably someone in her phone she could call to remedy this without an exorcism or a padded room.
“I’m leaving,” she said out loud, standing up from her chair to remind the pulsing feeling between her thighs that she was serious.
“Well,” her hallucination replied in that delicious voice as he stood. “Why don’t you go home, and I will come see you later this evening. I think a good dinner, and a talk, will make things much clearer for the both of us.”
Why was his smile so charming? It was irritating, but she had to give bonus points to her damaged brain for giving her a psychotic break with flair. It would be much worse to be hallucinating something scary.
“Grace?” hallucination-hottie prompted her, and she sighed, realizing she still had the cell phone plastered to the side of her head.
“Fine, sure, dinner. Whatever. Just go away,” she shooed him, and he laughed. Stupid, sexy laugh.
“One thing before I go.” He crooked his finger and walked past her. “Come with me.”
She turned and followed him into the little hallway where there were bathrooms and another door that was probably to the back of the coffee shop. Her hallucination pointed at the bathroom on the right, and she opened it and stepped inside… which she wanted to do. She was sure she’d wanted to, but when she turned around to see him shut the door behind them, she couldn’t remember actually deciding to walk to the bathroom.
More symptoms?
“Put your phone down, Grace,” he commanded, and although there was an argument on the tip of her tongue — she did it. Set her phone in the little valley on the sink where soap could have sat. “You are beautiful… have I mentioned that?”
“No?” It came out like a question, fueled by the vague, floating confusion inside her head.
“Well, you are. Absolutely delightful… and delicious.” He closed the gap between them, strong hands on her hips as he yanked her against his hard chest. Lots of muscles underneath that perfectly tailored suit.
“No touching,” she managed to say, but her voice was slurred, and while she’d put her hands on his chest to shove him away… she realized her fingers were holding onto the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. Bad Grace.
“Hmm…” He chuckled. “Methinks thou doth protest too much.”
“What?” She tried to shake her head, to clear it of the incredible scent of him. Overcooked cotton candy with a hint of… hot guy. Yep, that was the mix.
“Nothing,” he replied, leaning down to brush his lips against hers in an almost kiss that made the pulse between her thighs ramp up. She leaned in for the kiss, but he stood up. “See? I think you want me more than you’re willing to admit.”
“That’s what that meant?” she asked, feeling her forehead wrinkle as a blush burned her cheeks. Focusing, she managed to uncurl her fingers from his suit jacket. “Well, methinks you should stop touching me without asking.”
“I don’t think you mean that,” he purred, actually purred, like there was a little vibration-growl type thing in the way he said it, and it did strange things down low where her body was leaning closer to him. Stop it.
“I do mean it,” she lied… because it was a lie. The second he dipped his head again and grazed his mouth, his lips, his tongue across her neck, she was pushing up on tiptoe to give him a better angle. Bad and wrong. Bad, bad, bad. “I want you to go away, hallucination.”
“It’s Nicomachus… Nic, and… no.” The words came out between kisses and licks, and each flick had her trembling, suddenly desperate, needy. It had been one hell of a dry spell, but at least her mind was giving her something fun.
Something fun and—
“Oww!” Pulling her head back, she slapped her hand over her neck where she’d felt the sharp sting. “Did you just bite me?”
“Not yet,” he replied, smiling in that devilish way as he cupped her cheek. “Grace, it’s okay. I just want to taste you again before we have to part.”
“Again?” she mumbled, but there was that foggy feeling again. Warm and bubbly. Nice. On some level of her damaged brain she knew that she shouldn’t let him maneuver her back to the wall, shouldn’t be arching against him as he lifted her effortlessly. It’s not like she was light, she wasn’t some petite, tiny girl, but he didn’t even breathe hard as he slid her up the wall to wrap her legs around his hips.
Not good. Bad Grace.
Her work slacks didn’t provide any kind of functional barrier to the hard-on in his pants, and her willpower didn’t help much by completely dissolving as his lips returned to her neck. A delirious swimming sensation flooded her, amplifying the arousal buzzing between her thighs until she was soaking her underwear as she ground her hips against him. Fuck, he was rock hard everywhere. Muscular was an understatement, he could have been carved out of stone… every single inch.
“Wait. Stop,” she half-moaned, which didn’t exactly sound convincing even to her own ears — and her hallucination, Nic, didn’t seem to be listening anyway. He nipped her, but the sting didn’t hurt as much as it had before, and everything happening between her legs was plenty distracting. They rocked against each other like teenagers trying to find home base, and there was no denying how good it felt. Everything felt good. Nic, her handsome, sexy-voiced hallucination felt fucking glorious.
“Delicious,” he whispered against her throat, then bit down. Hard, sharp, terrifyingly painful for one ruinous second — and then it wasn’t. It was… incredible. She moaned, too loud, as pleasure flooded her with every chemical her brain could provide. Grinding against this fantastic delusion was better tha
n any vibrator she’d found on the market. He moaned against her throat, brought another wave of swimming bliss as he crushed her to the wall, bucked his hips and drove the hidden ridge of his erection in just the right spot — over, and over, and over.
The orgasm surprised her, stole the air right out of her lungs, snapped her into the black behind her eyes and then showered her with glittering sparks of all the hell yes her nerve-endings could handle. It was a blessing that her throat was too tight to shout, because she would have brought a trio of baristas running if she’d been able to make the sounds her body wanted to. Still, it was perfect, and as she came down, body quaking in his strong arms, she could only murmur random not-a-word sounds.
Slowly, he lowered her to the floor, holding onto her hips as he kissed and licked across her neck, moving slowly back to her lips where he placed an almost chaste kiss to her mouth. “I’ll see you for dinner, Grace.”
“But… what?”
“I’ll be by your apartment this evening to take you to dinner.” He smirked and brushed his thumb over her lips before he held onto the side of her face. The swimming sensation was still whirling inside her head, and all she could do was stare into his dark eyes as he continued. “For now, you’re going to go eat something before you go home. Actually, two somethings. Pick your favorites, finish your coffee, and stop worrying about being crazy.”
“Why?” she asked, almost surprising herself with how the word slipped out because her brain wasn’t exactly online.
“Because you’re perfect, Grace. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.”
“Okay.” She swallowed as he stepped back, suddenly feeling colder, lonelier, but that charming smile was on his face again.
“Until tonight, plehara.” Then he did his dissolving trick again. No magic wand, no cool Harry Potter phrase, just fizzle-swoosh and she was staring at the opposite wall of the bathroom.
Grace took one step forward and the room dipped, shimmied, and she stumbled until she caught herself on the sink. In the mirror, she looked pale and almost as confused as she actually felt on the inside.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked her reflection. It didn’t answer. Thank God. If one more thing in her life went Alice in Wonderland, she was definitely going to check herself into a hospital.
But she didn’t need a hospital… right? She was fine. Perfect.
Surely this happened to lots of sex-deprived, semi-workaholic, single women. Go a little too long without some fun bedroom shenanigans and pow! Instant sexy hallucination.
“Yep. You’re just a little desperate and a lot hungry.” Her stomach growled and she growled back at it as she snagged her phone off the sink and walked out of the bathroom. There were two baristas chatting together, and a new arrival at another table, but Grace only had eyes for the case of pastries and tasty treats that didn’t fit on any diet plan known to man. She ordered a ham and swiss panini, and a cheese Danish. Then added a blueberry scone because it looked lonely and needed a friend, and she didn’t need desperate pastries haunting her just because she didn’t want to spend another three dollars.
Honestly, it was an act of charity.
Returning to her table, she was surprised they’d left her coffee there, but grateful because it meant she didn’t have to return to make more awkward eye contact with the twenty-something barista who was clearly judging her fuzzy, post-orgasm hair.
The food tasted better than any food from a coffee shop had a right to taste, and while she’d originally planned to save her new BFF blueberry scone for later, she’d devoured it while finishing the last of the coffee. As soon as the calorie-laden slaughter was complete, leaving only a few tiny crumbs in memoriam, she actually did feel better. The cloudy-headed feeling was lifting, and that strange flu-like haze she’d felt since waking up was gone.
Maybe it wasn’t desperation that had her acting crazy but hunger. Simple hunger, which was much easier to resolve, and — bonus points — it didn’t require an exorcist or a padded room.
Grabbing her purse, Grace headed out to her car. It was still early in the afternoon, but all she wanted was a nap, and her hallucination had promised not to bother her again until the evening. But, hopefully, the bathroom was the last time she’d have to deal with the gorgeous illusion.
After all, she felt better already.
Chapter 5
Nicomachus
Waiting out the daylight wasn’t new to him, but it had been so long since he’d had anything as delightful to look forward to as Grace. She was like a little wide-eyed nymph, designed to torment him, tantalize him. Everything about her was new and different and delicious. Pale, with a dusting of freckles across her skin like cinnamon scattered over milk. He wanted her naked again, wanted to feel the silk of her hair in his fingers as he bent her head back and bared her throat.
By the darkness…
He had suffered in his stone prison for a long time, but he understood why it had taken her to break the spell. She was strong, feisty, mouthy. There were so many new adjectives in his vocabulary to describe her, and he rolled them around in his mouth, feeling out the shape of each new word that had existed only in his mind for so long. In too many lifetimes, he’d never met a woman like her. She spoke her mind even when it could be detrimental to her standing. Her wit was sharp, and she’d made him laugh multiple times — which was a gift he could not put into words.
The fact that she would be his was as solid to him as the floor beneath his feet, but he understood it would take longer for her to accept it. Her panic that morning had been delicious, but not ideal for the discussion they needed to have. It was easier to reveal his power slowly, in bits and pieces — although the decision to appear to her naked had been pure pride. She’d looked him over in shock, but he’d watched the blood fill her cheeks. He’d seen the way her eyes dilated, her tongue flicking over her lip in an unconscious reveal of her true desires.
Desire.
That was what lay between them. Pure and simple. The most basic of urges, needs, and he was not above using it against her. He would do what he needed to do as he always had. Their interlude at the little shop had just been a taste of what he could give her. A tease. A temptation to ready her for tonight.
Grabbing the keys for the car his acolytes had provided, he peeked past the blackout blinds and saw the last embers of fire in the sky dying out. Always a beautiful sight, but he had a much better sight awaiting him.
The journey down the elevator was strange, but he admired the ingenuity of mankind. Always creating, always toiling, leaving behind knowledge and works for the next generation. Year after year, century after century.
What a time to awake in.
His mind was filled with knowledge yet untested, but within it he knew the function of the little remote in his hand and the sight of the sleek, black automobile blinking to life in a parking spot made him smile. The rumble of the engine coming to life was immensely satisfying, like a great beast tamed by the turn of a key.
Operating the vehicle with any level of grace took him a few minutes, but he’d always been a quick learner. Soon, he was moving toward her with ease, and his mind was able to wander to the bathroom where she’d surrendered to him. She had fallen apart so beautifully in his arms, but he’d enjoyed it too. Loved the feel of her against him, the taste of her on his tongue, the wild abandon with which she took her pleasure. It had been worth every moment of risk.
Traveling during the day was dangerous, practically suicidal, but she was worth it. And Grace gave him strength.
Strength and purpose.
Two things he’d gone without for centuries, and now that she was within his grasp, he’d never have to go without them again. Not that this glittering world of electric light and writhing populaces would even notice him. His kind were all over this city, and there were no angry mobs, no screaming villagers demanding judgment. This world was so caught up in itself that they had almost made it easy.
Of course, h
e had a leg up on the younger ones of his kind. His acolytes had listened, had obeyed, and now he had everything he could need. More than enough money in a variety of currencies, and a place already prepared for him before they’d even known if the ritual would work. It had failed so many times that their optimism was almost endearing. Almost.
Some things simply could not be ignored… nor forgiven.
As he pulled up outside of her building, he found a place to leave the vehicle and climbed out. Following the ineffable tug inside him, he walked, the mortal way, through the doors and into another elevator. Only three floors, not twenty-seven, but he’d spent over an hour wandering her apartment and he’d found it charming — a riot of color, personality, and so many photos of friends and family.
Grace was well-loved, and he wasn’t surprised by that at all.
Too bad she was going to be his and his alone.
* * *
Grace
Something clattered inside her head and she awoke with a start. Sitting up in bed, she realized she’d never even taken off her work clothes, and one glance at the clock made her groan. It was already after seven o’clock, which meant she’d slept the entire afternoon away.
A rapid knock at the door made her spin her head around. “Oh, hell no…”
It was tempting to just stay in bed, to pretend she hadn’t heard anything, to pretend she didn’t somehow already know who was outside her door — but then the knocking came again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she grumbled, shoving herself off the bed to march to the door. As if some part of her brain still held hope she was wrong, she looked through the peephole and groaned again when she saw her hallucination standing outside.
“Grace?” the invisible-to-everyone-else hottie called out to her through the door.
“You’re not real,” she answered, leaning her forehead on the door, which was a mistake because it only made his chuckle that much easier to hear.
Bite Me: A Vampire Anthology Page 44