Vampires and Sexy Romance

by Eva Sloan

  “What’s going on? I kept on getting voice mail alerts and you sounded crazed.”

  “I’m crazed alright. I’m goddamn freaking out!”

  “You’re pregnant?”

  I stopped and looked at the cell phone in disbelief. “No!”

  “First gray hair?”

  “It’s Gus!”

  Silence on the other end of the phone. “That’s one of your plants, right?”

  “No, it’s the gay guy who saved them all those times. Owns the botanical shop down the street. Well not only isn’t he gay but I’ve found out he’s into me.”

  “You turned him straight?”

  “No ... his sister says he’s always been straight.”

  “But how do you know he’s interested in you, you know, that way?”

  “I was giving him a massage and he ...” I dropped my voice a few decibels and cupped my hand over the receiver. “He got an erection.”

  “Why the hell were you massaging him ... and how big was it?”

  “You never listen to a thing I ever say unless it involves an orgasm, do you?”

  “In my defense you do have a really dull life, except for lately. Now answer the question!”

  I sighed. “He’s a patient at physical therapy, and our massage therapist was off.”

  “What part of him were you rubbing?”

  “Ah, that doesn’t matter!”

  “Bullshit! Of course it matters. If it didn’t you’d have told me already.”

  “He has an injured lower back ...”

  “Oh my god! You were groping his ass!”

  “No I wasn’t!” The desperate edge in my voice sounded pathetic. “I was massaging a pulled muscle.”

  “I bet he has a great ass. I gotta see this guy.”

  “You gotta do nothing!” I said, yet my mind was stuck on replaying massaging his butt. How soft and firm and beautiful his back side was.

  I suddenly realized I was in the elevator to my apartment, the doors swinging open on my floor.

  “Well, men get erections from that shit all the time.” Bess said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “But his sister told me he was in to me.”

  “Well, that’s a pretty good source.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I gestured with my hands, I was so aggravated and confused ... and I was sweating like I’d run a marathon. I fumbled the key in the lock, but finally got into my apartment.

  “I gotta call you back.” I hung up on Bess, stripped off my clothes as I speed walked through my apartment, the bedroom, then into the bath. There I stood under a cold shower until I was just about to drown.

  *****

  The phone was ringing and someone was at the door when I emerged from the shower, my teeth chattering and my skin pruny. I picked up the phone off the floor -- where I’d dropped it -- on my way into the bedroom. It was Bess.

  “Are you at my door too” I croaked.

  “Across town, cupcake. Hey, maybe it’s the flower man come to ravish you.”

  I stopped in my tracks about two feet away from the door. “Great!” I hissed into the phone. “Now I can’t answer the door ... thanks!”

  “Don’t be a baby ... just peek out the hole.”

  I rolled my eyes. “My door doesn’t have a peep hole.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Every door in New York has a freaking peep hole in it!”

  “Not mine.”

  The knocking stopped and I crept to the door, laying my ear against it.

  “I can hear you breathing.” It was Dean.

  I unlocked the door and threw it open. Dean stood there looking gorgeous and in love. “I gotta go.” I told Bess as I hung up on her. Seeing Dean was exactly what I needed. And As I threw my arms around him and we kissed, and I felt his strong muscular body against mine, I decided that he was exactly what I needed to get goddamn Gus out of my mind.

  I pulled him into the apartment, pulling open my robe. His hands glided down my ribs and held onto my hips.

  “You’re freezing.”

  I kissed him hard and groped his crotch, feeling him turn steely beneath my touch. “Warm me up then.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up, walking with me effortlessly suspended in mid-air to the bedroom. Moments later my robe was puddled on the floor, his clothes were strewn across the bed, a chair, the floor ... and his tie was hanging off the ceiling fan.

  I opened up to him, both physically and mentally. I wanted to be filled and infused by him; I wanted his essence, his body and spirit to drive all thoughts of Gus from me.

  He barely had the condom rolled onto his hard cock before my legs wrapped about his hips and cinched him to me. He groaned and hissed his pleasure as I pulled him into me. I bit his earlobe and dug my nails into his perfect flesh.

  Dean threw himself into me recklessly, quickly moving from slow churning to pounding me heedlessly into my six hundred count cotton sheets.

  Yes! I thought as he took my nipple into his mouth, his hands pulling at my ass, his cock assailing my sex, bruising my swollen clitoris.

  I lost all track of time, might’ve even lost consciousness at some point. All I knew was that when I awoke it was dark in my bedroom. I reached out and found Dean lying beside me on the bed. I snuggle into him, enjoying the soft flesh and hard muscles of his naked body. I felt his cock hard and teasing against my thigh.

  Heedlessly I climbed atop him and took his cock into me, slowly skewering myself on his member. I felt his hands grip my hips as he jacked his hips up into me, running me through. I felt the room heat up around me. Felt myself dissolving against him. And then he leaned up and kissed me, deep and hard and sweet. Our tongues rubbing--he tasted like candy. And then he pulled away, his lips smiling at me as his hard member thundered and battered at my sex.

  But it wasn’t Dean’s handsome face ... It was Gus.

  I shot up in bed, my heart pounding in my chest as I gasped for breath, my head filled to bursting with excitement and guilt. Dean lay asleep beside me, sweet and beautiful ... and trusting.

  I felt like the biggest shit in the cosmos. Here I had the perfect guy in my life, lying in my goddamn bed, and he trusted me too. Trusted me not to dream about other men ... and I’d already broken that trust.

  I got out of bed and found my robe on the floor. I padded into the living room and found my phone. There were three missed calls, yet only one message. All from Bess. It was midnight ... I was sure she’d be awake. I speed-dialed her and waited as it rang through once, twice, then Bess’ groggy voice answered.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m a rotten person.”

  “All my friends are rotten people ... who is this?”

  “It’s me, Lucy.”

  “Oh, you came up for air long enough to wake me up. You two really get into it when your humping, don’cha?”

  “I dreamt about Gus...again.” My voice was raw and rasping. “Dean’s beside me in bed and I dream that Gus is making love to me.”

  There’s silence, then “That’s rough, cupcake ... So, was he any good?”

  My head dropped into my hands and I groaned. “Yeah,” I said, feeling even shittier with each word. “He was amazing.”

  “You’re allowed to dream, cupcake. That’s not cheating.”

  “You sure?”

  “Trust me. I’m sure.”

  I pulled my robe tight around my neck, feeling suddenly cold. “So what do I do?”

  “Get back in bed with your honey and fuck his brains out until you can’t even remember Gus’ name.”

  “Thank you Dr Phil.”

  “Fuck that fuck-wit! He knows shit about the human condition.”

  “Night, Bess.” I clicked off and sat there for a few moments. I decided when my skin started to burn and my mind started reliving my latest Gus dream that maybe Bess’ advice was worth a try.

  I crept into the bedroom and disrobed, crawling into bed and onto Dean. I looked really close, making certain that was
Dean. I felt his cock hard and waiting for me with my hand. I pulled a condom out of the drawer and rolled it onto him. He was deeply asleep, not stirring until I had lowered myself down onto him and was rocking away, trying to find a rhythm.

  I realized I was having déjà vu; the position was exactly the same as my dream. I felt my insides tighten as I half expected Dean to lean and suddenly be Gus. But dean pulled me down and onto my back, his wondrous body smooth and warm on mine.

  Wordlessly he fucked me, slow and easy as if we had all night. As I melted into him I wondered if I was in love with him. It was easy to imagine when he was making love to me. It was the rest of the time that brought doubt.

  *****

  I knew it was a dream right away. Dean and Gus were waiting for me, both of them naked, on a large lavish bed. The four poster kind with amazing bed linens and privacy drapes ... something right out of movies about King Arthur. I was wearing my scrubs and my hair was a wreck, yet neither man seemed to notice. They beckoned me to the bed and I moved powerlessly toward them. They pulled me onto the bed and relieved me of my clothing, both men kissing and licking and fondling my every curve. Both taking turns kissing me.

  Their every touch was driving me wild ... but as they started to sandwich me between them on the bed, I started to freak out. This was sex with two men. This was sex with two men at once!

  I awoke startled and panting, just as Dean sauntered wet and dripping from the shower.

  “You okay?” He came over and held me. The intimacy was comforting for a moment, but then I remembered I was mentally cheating on the handsome bastard.

  “I’m fine. “ I’m a creep.

  “Some sort of nightmare?”

  I didn’t dare tell him the truth. “I was dreaming that I was shopping with my Mother. And it just never stopped.”

  “That does sound harrowing. Maybe you should call off work.” He smiled at me and kissed me. First just a light peck, but then there were his soft lips and then the deep wet probing of his tongue.

  I pulled him to me and tried my best to get him into the bed with me.

  “I can’t, babe.” he said. “I’m booked solid in the OR all day.”

  I licked his neck up to his earlobe, my breasts pushing against his arm, my hand stroking his manhood through the towel.

  “Really,” he groaned as I gently bit his ear. “I’ve got to be at the hospital in ten minutes or we’ll be backed up all day.”

  I felt him giving into me, his body becoming warmer, his breathing heavier -- but then I started feeling so guilty. First I’m cheating on him in my dreams, and now I’m sabotaging his career!

  I kissed his shoulder and set him free, playfully pushing him away. “You owe me one hell of a good time tonight.”

  The look on his face was adorably pathetic. “Tonight?”

  “Oh, you’ve got a date?” I feigned being jealous, but secretly I was petrified at the prospect.

  “Just dinner with colleagues from three states ... maybe three continents.”

  I groaned. “A medical convention?”

  “Orthopedics. At the Four Seasons.” He lay on the bed next to me, sweetly kissing my shoulder this time. “Just a bunch of boring, bookish surgeon types, talking about the latest procedures.”

  “Any of them as hot as you?”

  “Not possible.” He kissed me and then rolled off the bed and threw on his clothes. I liked watching him dress, especially when he was in a hurry ... especially when he had an erection to contend with. It was erotic and humorous to watch as he tucked his hard-on down his pants at different angles.

  “Don’t wait up for me,” he said as he slipped his shoes on and kissed me one last time. It’ll be pretty late by the time I get done. I’ll just stay at my place tonight.”

  “You know where I’ll be,” I whispered in his ear. “if you change your mind.”

  He smiled, a wicked gleam flashing in his eyes. And then he left. I listened for the click of the front door, and then I leaned back into my bed and tried to go back to sleep. And just when I started to doze I remembered what I’d been dreaming about before I’d woken up.

  I jolted awake just as the dream started to slide into place again. I sat up and pulled on my robe, padding out to the kitchen to make coffee. Extremely strong coffee. I’d slept enough.

  *****

  Chapter 19

  Without much thought I got ready for work. Showering in cold water, pulling my hair back in a ponytail, donning my usual scrubs and white cross trainers. I stopped for more coffee; even leafed through a copy of Vanity Fair ... I caught myself checking out these great shoes on one of the catour model ads when it hit me I was reading a fashion magazine.

  What was happening to me?

  Then I saw it, on the next rack, on the cover of Cosmo: “What to do when you’re juggling two men?”

  I stood there rooted to the spot. It was like the fashion magazine gods were speaking directly to me. Nervously I picked up the prophetic periodical, thumbing through the extensive table of contents. There, halfway down the second page of listed articles and interviews was “Multitasking Your Love Life” by Diane Lynch.

  The caption: For the woman that finds one man not enough, here are some hot tips on keeping yourself safe, sated and sane.

  The sane part seemed to call to me. I closed the magazine and paid the news stand guy, then walked distractedly to the hospital. What I really wanted to do was stop everything, sit down and read the article. I needed advice ... and not from Bess. Her advice was simple and easy--my mounting problem was anything but.

  I seemed to have lost my sense of direction, because I kept walking right past my last turn to the hospital. I was a good ten minutes late when I finally made it to the building. But as I came upon the entrance I saw Gus walking slowly but steadily into the hospital. His limp was almost gone and he didn’t seem to be favoring a leg. But he still looked in pain.

  He also looked hot as hell. In the light of day his handsome face was groaningly sexy. His body, though on the mend, was achingly sinewy... those broad shoulders and that even broader chest! And just flickering my eyes down his back to those glutes ... those fine, firm muscles that I’d been massaging just yesterday...

  I suddenly felt myself engulfed in the flames of a hot flash. Not the menopause kind, but the horned up shameless slut kind.

  I might as well have an S branded into my shoulder, maybe a neon sign mounted on my chest.

  I backed away from the hospital, pulling my cell phone out just as I turned to flee. “Hey, yeah Jim, it’s me. I’m coming down with something nasty. Don’t want to infect everyone.”

  “Don’t worry,” Erin said on the other end of the connection. “The Ball Player isn’t due in today. We’ll be fine.”

  I was glad they’d be fine. I wasn’t sure I would be.

  *****

  I hadn’t smoked since college. It had only been during my senior year. I’d started drinking and partying, and carousing with all types of men. I didn’t sleep with more than two of those guys, but I did take much of their hard earned weekly allowances during poker games. I was nervous about leaving university life and joining the work force.

  Back then my worst fear was failing as an independent woman and ending up like my Mother. I didn’t realize then what a business savvy individual she’d been, or that she’d helped Dad so much with his accumulation of wealth.

  So when I picked up a pack of Menthol Ultra Lights on my way home I knew I was nervous. So nervous that when I opened the pack and drew it to my lips I suddenly realized I hadn’t bought a lighter to light the damn things.

  I couldn’t bring myself to leave the apartment, so for the rest of the day, roughly half a pack, I used the top burners on my electric stove to spark up by.

  Strangely enough I didn’t start coughing. I didn’t feel sick or nauseous. Unfortunately for me what I felt was instant relief. I must have been addicted to them five years ago. And now my body was just picking up where that addiction
had left off.

  I also suddenly felt incredibly hungry. For lunch I ordered in hoagies from the sandwich shop down the street. (I ordered in junk food -- ice cream, Swedish fish, Twinkies, and Two bags of Cool Ranch Doritos -- from the market across from the sandwich shop.) And then I ordered a veritable smorgasbord of Chinese delights from The Sichuan Garden, one block past the market.

  I was in a sugar comma in front of the TV, dunking a Twinkie in Duck sauce, when there was a knock at the door. I padded slowly from the couch to the door and looked through. Dean.

  I opened up and gave him a wan smile. Could he smell the unfaithful thoughts rising out through my pores?

  I’d changed into my favorite faded night shirt -- stained with sweet and sour sauce -- coupled with worn fuzzy pink slippers.

  Somehow this rather un-sexy get up was making Dean’s eyes start to heat up. Sick bastard, I thought as he pushed shut the door and drew me in and kissed me. In moments I was lifted of my feet as he carried me back to my bedroom.

  He hadn’t said a word ... obviously my adulterous feelings hadn’t been apparent to him. He didn’t bother taking my stained night shirt off, or my fuzzy slippers, simply pulling my panties off with his teeth.

  I watched as he pulled his shirt open and started unbuttoning his pants. I suddenly wanted him inside me so much that I pulled him atop me and ground my pelvis against his. I could feel him hardening from mere rubbery woodiness, to granite. He pulled away from my kiss just long enough to retrieve a condom from my drawer and snap it on his cock. For the next hour we grappled and fucked in every imaginable position. I moaned and groaned so loud I was hoarse, my voice no more than a rasp.

  Afterward, as he sank into after-sex sedation, I lay there in a cold panic. The sex had been great, as usual, but now instead of being satisfied I felt sick, my chest tight, my breathes coming with effort, my blood cold as it pumped through my heart. I felt like I was cheating -- but on who?