Deathless Love

by Renee Rose

  Sculpting Kate had been a secret, guilty pleasure. It was an intimate act to hone the shape of someone's face and body with your tools. In this case, it was also a bit of an invasion of privacy, considering she didn't know he was doing it. He'd spent the past nine months absorbed with capturing every curve, every nuance of her and he probably had another three to go before he finished.

  “Are you going to show her that?” Fox asked from behind him.

  He didn't answer or turn around to acknowledge Fox's question. There was a note of censure in it, which he knew he deserved. He let the silence stretch between them.

  “What's going on between you two?” Fox demanded.

  Dom sighed and unbent himself from his position and set down his riffler. The last thing he needed was to get riled by Fox and gouge her. Because it had become her to him.

  “It was just sex. We both wanted it and we acted on the impulse. That's all.”

  “She deserves better than that.” Fox's voice was tight.

  “I know,” he said, irritation threading through his own voice, more with himself than with Fox. “That's why I'm not going to do it again.”

  “Why don't I believe that?” Fox folded his arms across his chest.

  Dom didn't answer. He wasn't sure he believed it, either. He'd already broken his vow to stay away from her when he had sex with her that second time, after he found her crying on the top of the stairs. There was something about her that was so compelling. He couldn't bring himself to inflict the smaller hurt of keeping his distance, even though in the long run it would save her from a much larger pain. Because the fact was, he was nothing but bad for her. With a capital B. Vampire/mortal relationships were way too difficult to maintain. Kate was in her late twenties—the age these days when women started looking seriously for a long-term mate—and she deserved a real relationship with a man she could settle down and have a few kids with, if she wanted. Getting tangled up with him would only mean an eventual breakup when she realized that her life was stalled out. The last thing he wanted was for her to be hurt.

  “I'll take care of it,” he sighed.

  “What does that mean, exactly?” Fox said suspiciously.

  He wished he knew. “It means I'll take care of it!” he snapped and leveled an alpha male stare at Fox until he lowered his eyes, albeit sullenly. Vampires were nothing but animals at their core, and Dom had been around longer than any in the U.S., and most all in the old country, too, which meant he was stronger and more powerful than the rest of them. And although he was hiding out in Tucson with his head in the sand about the rumors of trouble with the vampires in the old world, he was still the dominant. Fox and Stella had chosen to follow him here, which meant they lived under his authority.

  Since his attempt at finding peace through sculpting had been shattered, he gave up on sculpting for the day, and went downstairs to shower before he headed to the club.

  There was a double set of doors at No Return, just like he had in his home, so that people could enter during the day without letting the sunlight in. The first door opened to a coatroom/foyer and then the second door into the actual club. Because of this feature, Dom could materialize from his home to the club or vice versa during daylight hours. He did it often enough, although he also liked to drive back and forth, too, in case any of the employees started wondering how he got around.

  The club was a whole different scene during happy hour. A lot of regulars hung out and the vibe was casual and friendly—the intensity of nighttime was dialed down by half. They served simple bar food like quesadillas, nachos, and pizza slices for people who hung through dinnertime. Dom materialized into his locked office, which was guaranteed to be protected from any light, and then headed downstairs. Alex, his happy hour manager, was leaning on the bar, chatting up the regulars.

  “Hey boss,” he said.

  Dom walked behind the bar and fished a Dos Equis out of the beer cooler, squeezing a lime into it. Alex would've been more than happy to serve him, but Dom liked being hands on in his own club. He had worked every position so he knew the ins and outs of what they did, and what their challenges might be. Besides, working kept him busy and socializing. Otherwise, he'd never leave his house.

  His immortal heart did a double-pump when he saw Kate walk through the door. She wasn't working at No Return tonight—Fox had said the Morphs were playing at Club Congress. Which meant she was probably there to see him. Or not—he shouldn't assume anything. He would just treat her like nothing had happened.

  “Hey Kate. Ginger ale?”

  “Sure,” she said, beaming at him. She was wearing a thin gray t-shirt that said “Boys Lie” and had horizontal rips all along the back. She had on a denim skirt and cowgirl boots underneath.

  He poured the ginger ale and squeezed the lime into it. “Whatcha up to?” he asked casually.

  She shrugged, her eyes too eager as they watched his face. This was bad. “We're playing at Congress tonight, so I thought I'd stop in early.”

  “Great. Great.” That was brilliant. Now what? He opted for the sneak out method, and casually drifted off down the other side of the bar, checking inventory and wiping down bottles—a job that Alex had probably already done for the day. It might have been a good method, except that an attractive woman like Kate sitting alone at the bar could not fail to be noticed by more than one troller. It wasn't more than five minutes before she had a guy sitting on each side of her trying to pick her up. One had more game than the other and she ended up angled slightly toward him, answering his questions politely.

  She obviously had never mastered the art of the blow-off. Most of the female regulars at his club were quite practiced at it. They could ignore, shrug off, or even be downright rude to get a guy off their back, but not Kate. He'd just fed from her the night before, which meant he could feel her discomfort now. She was trying to make eye contact with him for a rescue. Shit. Reluctantly, he started to walk out from behind the bar and toward Kate.

  “Do you want to get some dinner?” the guy was asking her.

  “No, I can't,” she stammered. “I have to go over some stuff with Dom,” she improvised as he walked up, her eyes begging him to agree.

  “I'm ready now, if you are,” he said.

  Kate bounded off her bar stool. “Yep—totally. Nice to meet you,” she said with a genuine smile for the disappointed guy.

  “Yeah, you too,” he muttered.

  Kate followed Dom toward the stairs. He paused and looked at his watch. 7:30 pm. Which meant the sun had just set. It would still be light out, but he could deal with it. “May I buy you dinner?”

  Her face lit up and she nodded, which made his heart simultaneously swell and sink. “Wait here, I just need to grab my sunglasses from the office.”

  When he returned, he put a hand on her lower back and held the door for her. “Does Poca Cosa sound good?” It was a Tucson installation—a hip gourmet Mexican restaurant just around the corner, where the menu changed every day. It might be hard to get in tonight, but he could try slipping the greeter a twenty to lube the way. Kate deserved a nice dinner if he was going to shut her down.

  “Sounds great.”

  He stopped and hissed a little, blinking when they stepped outside, temporarily blinded by the remaining daylight. She took his arm the way you hold a blind man's and just stood there with him until his vision returned. The daylight felt hot on his skin, but hell, the air was hot. It was June and the monsoons hadn't come yet. They walked the two blocks in relative silence and were fortunate enough to be seated right away.

  Dom dipped a tortilla chip into the salsa and crunched. “Ask away.”

  “What?'

  “You have questions for me.”

  She blanched and he felt a ripple of embarrassment from her. “How do you know that?”

  “I've been around the block a few times.”

  “You mean about being a vampire?”

  He shrugged. “You tell me.”

  She rewarded him
with one of her quick smiles. “Okay, so first of all, how do you do that? Can you read minds?”

  “A little. I'm better at sensing emotions. Especially if I've had your blood recently.”

  “How often do you… take blood?”

  “We call it feeding. I'm an old vampire, so I don't need much. I can go a couple of weeks on what I took from you last night. Thank you again, by the way.”

  “You're welcome,” she said, looking pleased. “How do you erase memories? Or do the mind control?”

  “Well, both are done with hypnosis. There's no difference between what we can do and what a licensed hypnotist does, really, except that the induction happens instantly by looking into our eyes while we have the intent. Then we leave the hypnotic suggestion telepathically. Maybe it's a bit stronger than human hypnosis.”

  “Have you done it to me?”

  He shook his head. “Never. The fact that you're sitting here quizzing me is proof of that.”

  “You mean I shouldn't know?”

  “Right.”

  “Are you going to scrub my memories?”

  He shook his head. “You have too many now. And Fox says he's done it too many times for it to be safe anymore.”

  “Are you worried that I'll tell someone? Because I won't. Fox already programmed me.” He could smell fear on her suddenly, and although he didn't want her afraid, he was glad she had good instincts that way.

  He nodded. “I believe you,” he said mildly. “But you're right to be afraid. Vampires do normally kill or change anyone who can't be scrubbed.”

  He let that sink in for a moment and felt her fear increase. “But you're safe. Fox has claimed full responsibility for you.” He would take responsibility for her too, but he didn't need to tell her that.

  Their food came as she absorbed that. He ordered his usual—a chef's pick of three things off the menu. Tonight they brought him a chicken mole, some kind of tomatillo fish and his favorite—tamale pie with a pumpkin cream sauce. Kate had some delectable beef dish.

  “Cheers,” she said, raising her margarita to clink his.

  “Buon appetito,” he said, picking up his fork.

  “So, according to some of the vampire novels, vampires don't eat,” she said accusingly.

  He laughed. “Well, if I drank enough blood I wouldn't have to. But I enjoy food, so where's the pleasure in that?”

  “So, I guess that means you use the toilet like everyone else?”

  He nodded with a smile.

  “How long have you been a vampire?”

  “I was turned in 1522.”

  “In Italy?”

  “Si bambina. I was turned in Venice, but my home was in Parma.”

  “Okay…” He picked up a nervous vibe from her. “So you don't kill people?” she asked in a low voice.

  “As a regular practice? No.”

  “But you have?”

  He nodded. “I've killed mortals and I've killed vampires, yes.”

  He saw a shiver go through her. “How many people have you turned?”

  “None.”

  She was surprised at that. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Who turned you?”

  “A very beautiful female vampire who I stupidly let seduce me when I was away from home.”

  “Did you stay with her?”

  He shook his head. “No. I killed her, which is supposed to be impossible. And then I went home to my wife and daughter and begged their forgiveness and understanding.”

  She looked at him with big eyes. “Does that happen often? A vampire living with his mortal family?”

  “Never, as far I know.” He shrugged. “It was where I wanted to be. I stayed on my family property another fifty-some years until my daughter and granddaughter died of fever. Then it was too painful to remain.”

  She sat back and wiped her beautiful lips with her napkin. “Okay, here's the real question I want to ask you. It's the reason I came down to the club tonight.” She had a confessional tone, and didn't it just make him lean forward, hungry for her next words.

  “Will you do it again for me? What you did last night?”

  Oh god. His fangs elongated. Fuck breaking up. He'd never expected her to be so bold when she was sober. Her words ignited a fire in him that would be painful to ignore—he'd gone rock hard. He wanted her—he wanted to be in her, sucking her blood, making her moan and yes, spanking her beautiful bare butt.

  She hadn't asked for a relationship—yet. He could make it clear that it was out of the question later. After he gave her what she wanted. He flashed his smile briefly at her to show her the effect her words had on his fangs and raised a finger to signal their server. He used his napkin around his mouth when he asked for the check to hide his fangs, which to his amusement, made Kate giggle.

  He looked at his watch. 8:30 pm. She was probably on at Club Congress at 10 or 10:30 pm. They could go back to his office at No Return. Or… they could get a room in the hotel above Club Congress. Which would make it more just about sex, wouldn't it? Yes, it was safer that way. And hotter.

  The room was adorned in retro décor. It had a queen bed with an iron headboard—perfect for a well-spanked girl to white-knuckle later when he was driving into her. He pushed that thought out of his mind. There was a beautiful fifties style clock next to the bed and a claw-foot tub in the bathroom. He pulled off his shoes and shirt and climbed up on the bed, propping the pillows so he could lean back against the headboard.

  “I want to take off your panties myself,” he told Kate, who was nervously undressing.

  “Oh! Okay,” she said, stripping off everything else.

  Meow. Yep, still hot. He crooked his finger at her and she awkwardly came toward him.

  “Hurry up.”

  She dove over his lap and he laughed. He took his time, stroking the curves of her tight little butt, then he warmed it up over her panties, spanking lightly all over first, then mostly concentrating his smacks at the beautiful juncture where the butt meets the upper thigh, alternating butt cheeks. She made little “oohs” and gasps and, as he started to increase the intensity of the smacks, she started to struggle and tighten her buns. He gave her another dozen hard spanks and then stopped and rubbed. She moaned softly.

  He pulled her panties half way down her thighs and slipped his fingers between her legs. Not that he needed any confirmation—the heady smell of her arousal combined with the pleasure of having her so beautifully presented over his lap had already brought him close to orgasm. Her pussy was slick and swollen. She pushed her hips back at him eagerly. He laughed and pulled his hand out, giving her several spanks that were a little bit harder than the first set. She grunted and jerked, trying to escape his punishing slaps. Her bottom was turning a lovely shade of blush. He rubbed her again, and dipped his fingers between her legs again. “Who's in charge here, Kate?”

  “You are?” she asked timidly.

  “That's right,” he said, gliding his fingers up and down the glossy entrance of her sex. She moaned. “That means you'll get pleasured when I'm ready to pleasure you. And you'll be patient until I do.”

  She made a tiny whimpering sound.

  “You're lucky you have to work soon, or I might take all night to spank you.”

  At that, she orgasmed, her butt cheeks tightening and a shudder running through her shapely thighs.

  He laughed. “I guess I had it wrong—you'll be pleasured when you feel like it! All right, Kate. Let's get serious. Do you know why you're in trouble tonight?”

  She shook her head, which was buried in the covers of the bed.

  “You were a naughty girl. You're getting a spanking for letting those boys at the bar tonight make you uncomfortable.” He started spanking her again, hard spanks. It was divinely inspired, he thought. One of the many reasons he'd been reluctant to get involved with Kate in this way was that she didn't need to be more submissive. It may turn her on, but she'd be better served by standing a little more squarely on her ow
n two feet. She was a brilliant and talented young woman who didn't seem to know how to stand up for herself. So offering her a discipline incentive to do so seemed like an ingenious twist, if he didn't say (well, think) so himself.

  She was gasping at the burn he was laying down. He paused and rubbed. “You're a grown woman, Kate, who frequents bars at least two, maybe three nights a week, is that right?”

  She nodded.

  “You need to learn how to send out appropriate signals.” He adjusted her position slightly so that her butt was optimally presented and started spanking again, using the slap of his hand to punctuate his words. “You do not always need to be nice.” Smack. Smack. “And you do not need to lie.” Three more smacks. “And you most certainly do not need to rely on your friendly vampires to rescue you.” With that he gave her ten hard spanks that made her struggle to get away. He easily held her in place with his left hand.

  “Kate,” he said lovingly. “When I spank you, I want you to try very hard to stay in place for me. Can you do that?”

  She didn't answer. He could feel her emotions were starting to tangle. He'd pushed her limits a bit with those last spanks and fear had set in. Time to switch tactics. He slipped his left hand under her hips and found her clit, dripping with the nectar of her arousal. He rubbed her bottom with his right hand while his left made slow circles around her clit. She started pumping her hips and moaning. His right hand started spanking, slowly, and not too hard. She groaned. Gradually, gradually, he increased the tempo with both hands until she was writhing desperately under his hands.

  “Please. Oh God. Oh please… YES! Oh!” It was a magnificent orgasm. He felt quite pleased with himself as she shuddered and contracted under his hands. After the little earthquake, she lay sprawled across his lap with an absolute glow on her face, at least as far as he could tell from the half he could see. She looked beautiful.