H.T. Night's 8-Book Vampire Box Set

by Night, H. T.

  “Hold on,” I said. I ran around my black Mustang and opened her door. Right there in my apartment parking lot, I picked her up and made my way to the door. I loved the way Maya’s body felt when I held her. And there’s no other kind of hold than picking up the woman of your dreams and holding her tight while she is completely in your arms in midair.

  I took out my keys with my right hand and held Maya in my arms with my left. I opened the door. Maya held on tight. She was going with the moment as much as I was.

  I carried her through the hallway and through my bedroom door. I gently laid her on the bed, and I began by placing my left hand up her thigh on the outside of her white jeans. We kissed and pawed at one another as if it was the only physical act we understood. I don’t think I ever kissed her more passionately.

  “I love you, Tommy,” she called out as our bodies and hands began undressing one another. Soon we were both completely naked. We grabbed the top cover and placed it on top of our hot, bare bodies. Then Maya was on her back, and I loved this position and not just for the sexual reason. I love how it makes me feel that I’m on top of her, knowing I could crush her with my weight, but chose how much pressure I laid upon her, claiming her. It was a balance between strength and love. I wanted her to know I was there, but she also needed to feel that she was safe. I kissed her mouth, neck, and her shoulders. I was caressing her heart, body and soul, pouring everything I felt from my lips to her skin. She was my lover. She was my life. Our heat began to rise, and as our bare skin touched, a fire raged from inside of me and came out, igniting our skin together, sealing us with sweat and joy. Flesh to flesh, we devoured each other in kisses, inhaled the intoxicating scent of each other. We took turns on our backs, each of us determining the pace and ferocity of love while on the top position, the bottom one, the recipient of the intensity of desire. My held-back passion for MMA rose up as an increased passion for Maya, almost an electric rage that roared deep inside my loins and energized me with fierceness for being a werewolf, for being a fighter who must now only love and not fight, and for being a Carni in love in a Tandra, the most beautiful woman I had ever been inside of, or seen, for that matter. Her body, her mind, her kiss – all were perfection. We were in synch, in rhythm, in harmony, like a piece of music unfolding a song in delicate touches and urgent missions that rose up to delight and astound us with the notes that we played on each other. We were fire, we were water, we were love, we were desire; we unleashed raw sex that spilled in each other toward some goal of claiming each other’s hearts in the range of what could only be an infinity of destiny. I felt her deep in my soul. A part of me. Forever.

  We made love on that night; a deep, tender love, but a fierce one whose memories would last a lifetime in my head as “that night.” In her, her scent was now overwhelming to me. The more I smelled her, the more I loved her. Or perhaps the more I loved her, the more I smelled her. Either way, her scent was intoxicating. I was not only obsessed with her scent, I realized that I must be insanely in love with this woman. She was much more than my lover, she was my reason for living, for being, for evolving. She wasn’t just a woman. She was my oxygen.

  Just before I knew she was close to a climax, I rolled her over on her tummy and told her that I loved her. I kissed the back of her neck and spine, up and down it, until she was panting and whimpering at the care that I took to caress her back and neck while I moved my hands to the front of her to caress her there. Careful to rein in my werewolf urge to bite her, because, after all, I did not want to make her into a werewolf, I pressed my lips tenderly to that sweet spot on the back of her neck that she loved and entered her from behind. I moved very slowly inside of her womanhood, feeling the pulse and clutch of her around me as she climaxed over and over and cried out my name like a prayer, with reverence and surrender.

  Dear God, I loved her so much. Only then, when she said my name and was near weeping, did I release myself into her warmth, her wet, sweet folds. I said her name into her ear, with gentleness, but with a fierce possessiveness.

  After several minutes, we slid onto our sides and I held her for a long, long time, listening to her breath shudder in and out as she came back to earth and murmured her contentment to me and completely passed out, her back against my chest. I could feel her heart thudding against me, and when it slowed and her breathing was even, I knew that she was asleep. There were no other thoughts in my head except this one: Maya ministered to me…

  * * *

  The next couple of weeks went by, and I decided to make a deal with Maya: I didn’t have to fight; But I would surely train Josiah to the best fighter he could be. He was a junior in high school, and had a lot of free time after and before school. What I heard from Maya was that the guy hated school and only showed up part time as it was anyway. His entire mind was focused on becoming the world’s youngest and most successful MMA fighter.

  I knew he wanted to be a professional mixed martial arts fighter and it would be cool to mentor him and help his big dream come true. In a way, since I wasn’t fighting now, I would have a chance to see my own MMA dreams come true by living them vicariously through Josiah. I wanted to do it not just for Josiah, but for Maya. She adored her brother, and I knew it would mean a lot to her to see me take him under my wing, like a brother of my heart. I wanted to give him every bit and piece of my knowledge, hold nothing back. I wanted to see him win every fight and succeed in becoming all that he wished and dreamed. I also thought that a part of me felt if Maya could see how much fun I was having training her brother, she might let me give MMA a shot again when things had calmed down.

  Nevertheless, I liked Josiah a lot. He was a real interesting kid. It was time for me to be the Obi-Wan-Kenobi to his Anakin Skywalker. I wasn’t training the kid to be a Jedi, but it was going to be just as dangerous, aside from being shot with the laser guns by storm troopers’ deal.

  Josiah and I started training four times a week. Two of the times were early morning before he was supposedly going to go to school. I wasn’t the kid’s truant officer, so if he went to school or not, it wasn’t my business. His parents never seemed to give him a hard time about school. The other two training sessions were gym workouts at my gym in Anaheim Hills.

  Josiah had sick instincts when it came to fighting. The problem with the kid was that his instincts were lethal. I had to tone him down or he was going to kill every guy in the gym, just in the workouts. MMA is an interesting sport because it is virtually impossible to fight at a 100% unless you’re in a real match against a human opponent. I had to teach Josiah to spar, not terminate life.

  Every guy in my gym agreed that no one wanted to go toe to toe with him, mainly because it was highly unsafe. Josiah didn’t know how to tone it down during sparring. He would try to rip every guy’s head off. The problem with Josiah wasn’t in making him aggressive. The issues we were dealing with were how did we keep his aggression under wraps and have him only let it out at the right time? In the ring only? In competition?

  We had a great workout in my gym. I decided to take Josiah to a juice bar and get some vitamins in us. We ordered our drinks and sat at a table. We both had showered at the gym and were a little tired and worn out from the workout.

  “How good are those guys back at the gym?” Josiah asked.

  “They are the best southern California has to offer,” I said. “Why?”

  Josiah smiled at me. “Just curious.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I just know I can beat any of them.”

  “You do, huh?” Josiah cracked me up. He was six feet tall, and weighed 170 pounds with almost zero muscularity. The guys at my gym would eat him for breakfast in a real match.

  “You know no one fights you in the gym at 100 percent, right?” I said.

  “Well, neither do I,” Josiah said. “I was holding back.”

  “They aren’t even fighting you at 50 percent,” I pressed. He needed to know the reality of the situation.

  “So, what are
you saying, Tommy? You think I’d lose to those guys back at the gym?”

  “There might be one or two you could beat right now. It’s not personal. Most of those guys are extremely seasoned fighters. They humored us by fighting you at a 50% spar level, out of respect for me. And because of your age and lack of experience.”

  “Wait, wait. Humored me?” Josiah sounded pissed. “No one humors me. They keep on their toes because they know if they let their guard down for one second, I will lay them out like cordwood.”

  “That’s the whole point, Jo. You’re not supposed to lay anyone out unless you’re in the ring. They are on their toes against you because you’re not used to sparring and they are afraid they might take one on the chin. Nobody wants to take one on the chin when they’re just working out.”

  “You really think I’m a pansy, don’t you?”

  “A pansy? Hell no. You’re the toughest 16-year-old kid in the world. Those guys are in their mid-twenties at the top of their game. You need to keep things in perspective. You aren’t even done growing yet, bro. You probably have a couple inches in height and another 30 pounds to pack on before you win a title.”

  Josiah nodded. I could tell he wasn’t buying it, but all I could was give it to him straight. “I have a question for you,” Josiah said.

  “Go for it.”

  What do you think about me trying out for football next year?”

  “Football? You mean at your high school?”

  “No, for the Oakland Raiders. Of course, my high school. I’m going to be a senior and I know I’m tougher than all those guys.”

  “Football isn’t about hand-to-hand combat. It’s about colliding into your opponent at full speed. And it’s a team sport. MMA is about the individual.”

  “I’ll figure out, and when I do, I’ll be the best at it.”

  “Well, if you’re excited about it, I say go for it. You’re going to have to get your grades up and start going to school every day. They are really strict about that.”

  “I’ll do what I have to do.”

  “What position do you want to play?”

  “Linebacker or running back.”

  I looked at Josiah’s tall, lanky body and said, “You’ll need to pack on like forty pounds, but I think you’d be great.”

  “I’d be more than great.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I paused and took a long gulp of my wheat grass and lime drink. It tasted like ass. “How’s your drink?”

  “It tastes like what you imagine Flintstone vitamins would taste like if you blended them up in a blender with some juice and bits of pieces of human ass.”

  “Yeah. I’m with you there. All I know is, it’s good for you.”

  “So they say. Wouldn’t it be something if 20 years from now they figured out that vitamin drinks like this were the leading cause to cancer and diabetes?”

  “That’s pretty morbid!” I looked at Josiah and he was a really handsome kid. Girls and women often checked him out and he was oblivious to it. “Hey, Jo, do you have a girlfriend?”

  “I was asked by a couple of different girls to my school’s Sadie Hawkins dance but I said no.”

  “You said no to a three-way?” I joked.

  “Not a three-way, two different girls asked me to go to the dance at different times.”

  “Just playing around, kid. Don’t get your panties in a bundle.”

  “Do you love my sister?” Josiah asked.

  His question threw me because I wasn’t ready for it. I laughed out loud when he asked that.

  “Why are you laughing?” he asked. “It’s not that funny of a question, she really cares about you Tommy, and if you don’t feel the same way, you better not hurt her. Cause if you hurt her, I’ll kick your—”

  “Hold your horses, Teen Spirit. I’m very much in love with your sister.”

  “You are?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? She’s hot. ”

  “Is she? I can’t tell. She’s my sister. She hogs the bathroom because she’s always in the shower. She bakes stuff. She teases me. She smells funny.”

  “No she doesn’t. Trust me. Your sister is a ten.”

  “A ten, even!”

  “Her personality makes her off the chart. She’s the best human being I have ever known. And she smells like heaven to me.”

  “That’s good to know you feel that way. I’ll be sure to pass it along to my parents.”

  “Okay, hold back the smell part from your parents. But why pass it on to them? Don’t your parents think I love her?”

  “They worry about her. She’s ‘all in’ with you. They both think you’re an awesome guy. But, you kind of are a wild card at times.”

  “What makes me a wild card?” I was always on my best behavior around Maya’s parents.

  “Your personality,” Josiah said.

  “What do you know about my personality?”

  “You’re a little aloof and unpredictable. You have got to admit, you’re a pretty mysterious guy.”

  I chuckled at Josiah’s statements. “I guess I am, kid.”

  “Well, I wonder where you really go off to, once a month, to God knows where, to do God knows what.”

  “Hey, I told you, I’m in the military, an elite force. Anytime, anywhere, they can call me and I have to go.”

  “I know. So you said. Hey, can I ask a favor from you?” Josiah asked.

  “Go for it.”

  “Quit calling me kid. It makes me want to kick your ass every time you say it.”

  “Kick my ass, huh?” I asked, amused. “You really think you can?”

  Josiah just smiled.

  Damn the kid was cockier than I was. No wondered I thought the world of him.

  * * *

  I got a strange call from Dave. “Kyro, what’s up?” Dave said.

  “What’s up, my man? You know, you don’t have to call me Kyro. I just like for the others to do it.”

  “Trust me. Today, you’re all about being Kyro. I need to meet with you and I need to come clean on some stuff.”

  “Come clean? What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Let’s meet up. I don’t want to do this over the phone.”

  This was extremely bizarre, but I knew Dave needed to talk face to face. “Where do you want to meet?”

  “It’s got to be somewhere really private. I’ll meet you at the beach.”

  “The beach?” Damn, he really did want to do this privately. “Which one?”

  “The pier in Huntington. Right off Pacific Coast Highway. There’s a fishing store on the pier. I’ll meet you right in front of it.”

  “Seriously, I have to go all the way out there? That’s not exactly the next city over.”

  “Just do it, Kyro. Trust me. You’ll understand when we talk.”

  “All right, brother. I’ll be there in an hour.” I hung up the phone and just stared at the living room wall. I really needed to clean this front room. It was a mess. I had a cage in here for months and I never quite made it look nice since I moved it. I think I was expecting Maya to do it. Isn’t that what women do when they move in. Nest? The only nesting Maya did was in my medicine cabinet and closet space, as she shoved in her makeup, fragrances, leg-waxing stuff, jeans, tops, a few dresses, and dozens of pairs of shoes, boots, and sandals. She must have had a hundred pairs of footwear.

  “Who was that?” Maya asked walking into the living room from our bedroom. She was running a brush through her long blonde hair. What a turn-on that was to me, to watch her draw the bristles through the yard of blonde silk shimmering from her head.

  “It was Dave.”

  “What did he want?” She saw me looking at her hair and brushed her hair more seductively, giving me the eye for a moment.

  I grinned a bit at her flirting, trying to keep on track. “It’s important. He needs to talk.”

  “Talk to you further than he did with you on the phone?”

  “Yeah, he didn’t say what it was about. He wants
me to meet him at the beach.”

  “It’s nighttime. Does he want to go on a moonlight walk along the coast?”

  “I think it’s the furthest thing from that. I’m not sure if I want to leave you alone here. I don’t have a good feeling about this. I’m going to drive you over to your parents. I’ll tell Dave I’ll be a little longer.”

  “Is it that serious?” Maya asked. She threw her hairbrush on the coffee table, annoyed. No more flirting from her in the next few minutes, I knew.

  “We are dealing with werewolves. God only knows what it could be about.”

  “Are you going to be okay?” she asked, her big blue eyes filled with true concern.

  “I’ll be fine. The pier where we are meeting is out in the open, so I’m pretty sure he’s not setting me up.”

  “Do you think he’s capable of that?” Maya asked.

  “My gut says ‘no.’ But we’re dealing with immortal dogs. I don’t know what stirs inside some of these guys. I trust Dave, and that’s all I know.”

  So, Maya got ready and I took her home to her parents. I gave her a giant hug and kiss goodbye, and then made my way to Huntington Beach. I took the 91 freeway to the 55 freeway. Then I jumped on the 22 Freeway, and turned left on Beach Boulevard to Pacific Coast Highway. It took a while to find parking. But I managed to get a spot near the pier.

  As I walked to the pier, I passed restaurants and shops that draped the beachside area. I loved the way the air smelled when I got this close to the beach at night – the salt air was fresh and invigorating and I inhaled, sucking in the scent of the ocean and everything and everyone on the pier—women’s perfume, men’s sweat, fish bait smells, sexual arousal of couples, and the occasional brown pelican with dead-fishy breath dozing on the railing. The pier overlooked the Pacific Ocean. It was around 9:00 p.m. and the ebony velvet night sky was painted liberally with stars. It was so romantic, so magnificent, that I almost wished I had brought Maya with me. Almost. It could be dangerous and my senses were sharp and aware of everything around me. But yeah, this was a happening date night place.