by Vivian Wood
“I’m going to bite you, Jeanne.”
Jeanne let out a ragged breath, nearly a sob. He could do anything as long as he ended this delicious suffering.
His tongue probed her softly again, making her whole body go rigid. He flicked that devilish tongue against her again and just as she was about to dissolve, two sharp points of heat pressed hard against her. Ian sucked hard, bringing her to a screaming, shattering climax that went on for nearly a minute. At last she settled, almost weeping with relief. He gently licked her sensitive flesh one last time, then sat up to look at her.
She pried one eye open and looked at him, utterly sated but still curious about what his other skills might be. The man was obviously an incredible lover, and Jeanne wanted to explore that to her full advantage. Just as soon as she could move her legs, that was.
He was turned away, making her realize that he was still fully clothed while she was naked as sin itself. Somehow, Jeanne couldn’t bring herself to care. He sat like that for a long minute, not turning back. Jeanne frowned, worried.
“Ian?” she asked, struggling to sit up.
“How long have you been sick?” he asked, still not looking at her. Oh Jesus, what if her Tzenger’s Syndrome was contagious for vampires? She hadn’t even considered it.
“I-I’m sorry, Ian. I didn’t think…” Jeanne said, her voice trembling.
“How long?” he asked, his voice harsh.
“Not quite a year,” she whispered sadly. And now she might have killed him, as well.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked, challenging.
“Wh.. you’ve only lived here for two months. I’ve only spoken to you a handful of times! Why would I come to you?” Jeanne asked, mystified.
“You really don’t recognize me, then?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jeanne demanded.
“Jeanne… I’ve been following you for more than ten years. I found you as a girl. I watched you, found out about your family situation. I looked out for you, protected you whenever I could do so without interfering with your life. I’ve followed you from your hometown to your college town, and then when you moved to New Orleans… well, I couldn’t let you come here alone. I just had to see to some things before I moved down here, that’’s why I just moved in two months ago.”
Jeanne’s jaw dropped as he turned around, his eyes twin pools of misery. The hottest man on the planet was sitting right in front of her, and he was telling her he was a stalker?
“Wait, what?” Jeanne asked, shaking her head. This wasn’t possible.
“I came here for you, Jeanne. I’ve been waiting for you to grow old enough to keep my secret,” he said, staring at her wretchedly. “It appears I almost waited too long. You’re dying, aren’t you?”
Jeanne’s eyes welled up, but she merely nodded. She’d cried so much when she was diagnosed that she’d promised herself not to waste the time she had left on tears. The rare blood disorder might destroy all her red blood cells over time, but she wouldn’t let it control her life… what precious bit was left, anyway.
“They say it could be a week, six months, a year. Eventually my body just won’t function anymore. I’m sorry if… if I caused this to happen to you, too,” she said mournfully.
Ian pulled the blanket she was resting on up and around her shoulders, gently tucking it in so that she was covered.
“It’s not what you’re thinking. Your blood can’t hurt me, Jeanne. But I still can’t take this any further with you right now.”
Anger flashed over Jeanne at his sudden rejection.
“I’m dying, Ian. Not dead. Jesus, you’d think a vampire would have a little more perspective on this,” she snapped, hurt. “Now you’d better explain why you’ve supposedly been following me around. And then you’d better make ravishing love to me, damn it. Otherwise, get out of my house!”
The ghost of a smile played about his mouth, and he gave her a look of utter adoration. It was the scariest, best thing Jeanne had ever felt. Could it be real, or was he a crazy serial killer-cum-vampire?
“I do have to leave, actually. I have to run an errand. I’ll be back, though,” he said, standing.
“Yeah, whatever. If you can’t deal, fine. You don’t have to lie to me about it. We can just go back to being nameless neighbors,” Jeanne said with a flip of her hand. Inside she was much less calm, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Jeanne,” Ian said, his voice turning angry.
“What?” she growled, lifting her gaze to his in defiance.
“I am coming back. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be here when I return. And alive, I might mention.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Ian,” she said scathingly. “You’re just my stalker and nothing more, apparently. Jesus, I would get the only stalker that didn’t actually want their target. Now get. OUT.” Crossing her arms, she scowled at him.
“I didn’t want to have to do this,” he said, his tone icy.
“Do what exactly?”
“Sleep,” he commanded.
Her eyelids sagged, suddenly unable to stay open. Darkness descended and she drifted into a dreamless oblivion.
2
Chapter Two
SLAM.
Jeanne sat bolt upright in her bed, looking around wildly. It was nearly dawn outside. She was completely nude under her bedcovers. She didn’t remember coming to bed. All she remembered was…
Oh, she thought sadly. Ian.
Before she had time to think any more about him, footsteps thundered up the stairs to her bedroom. What the hell was happening in her life today?
Ian came bursting through the door, looking worse for his absence. He wore the same clothes, but they were now quite rumpled, and his usually perfectly tousled hair was now genuinely messy. Damn if that didn’t make him a little bit hotter, though.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, more harshly than intended. “And what did you do to me? I just slept half a day away!”
Ian gave her a hard look, then came over and sat on the bed. Jeanne scooted away from him toward the wall, scowling.
“I had to go get permission from the Council, and I knew I couldn’t trust you to keep yourself safe and secure until I got back,” he said, pulling an assortment of items out of his pockets. A crisply folded piece of paper, an expensive pen, and… a jewelry box?
“Permission for what?” she said. The man never made any kind of sense.
“To turn you, of course,” he said slowly, as if she might be a bit slow herself.
“Turn… make me like you?” she asked, bewildered.
“Unless you’d rather die, of course,” he said tartly.
“No, I mean… why would you need permission?”
“We can only turn one human in our lifetime. Keeps the population in check,” he said lightly.
Brushing wild curls back from her face, Jeanne paused.
“What? Why would you choose me?”
“Because you’re dying,” he said practically.
“Lots of people are dying, Ian.”
“Jeanne. I have been waiting to come to you, as a man comes to a woman, for almost twelve years. I wanted to make sure you had a full and active youth before I stole you away from your human life. Your illness is just advancing the deadline, but this was always going to happen. At least, I hoped it was going to happen.”
Jeanne bit her lip hesitantly, not sure how to say what she felt.
“So if you can only turn one human in your lifetime, doesn’t that sort of imply that we’ll be- you know, together?”
“We’re together right now,” Ian said, giving her an odd look.
“No, I mean we’d be in a relationship. A permanent relationship,” Jeanne clarified.
“Well, yes. That would be the optimal turnout, of course. Most of my kind reserve their one transformation for a lifemate,” he replied, his tone cooling a bit.
“You seem pretty certain that
we’ll make a good couple, but… we don’t even really know each other,” Jeanne said anxiously.
“I know you,” Ian answered indignantly, “I’ve known you since you were a girl. I’ve watched you grow older, more mature-“
Jeanne cut him off with a wave of her hand.
“Yes, but you don’t actually know me. You know what you’ve observed, you know me on paper. You might hate me in real life,” Jeanne said somberly.
“I could never hate you, Jeanne. Since the moment I saw you, there has never been a doubt in my mind that we would be lifemates. I don’t know how to explain it, but I just know,” Ian said, his casual shrug belied by a hint of hurt in his expression.
“Even if that’s true, I still know nothing about you. You’re some strange man that moved in next door, and before today we’d never even had a conversation,” Jeanne insisted.
“Funny, that didn’t keep you from letting me lick you until you-“ he started, smug.
“Ian! I’m being serious. This is a really big deal. I would be changing my entire life to be with you,” Jeanne said sharply.
“No, you’d be giving up a few weeks or months of this emptiness you call a life before what I’m assuming would be a long, painful death,” he said, the teasing in his voice gone.
“I- I still have to think about it. I need to wrap my head around it, Ian.” Crossing her arms, Jeanne tried to affect a no-nonsense expression.
“You need to think about the fact that I’m offering you immortality and true love?” he said, cocking his head.
“Don’t- that’s not fair. You can’t know-“
“I know.”
“You can’t know that things will work out. What if we wake up one day and hate each other?”
“We won’t.”
“But what if we do? I’m serious, Ian.”
He crossed his muscular arms and leaned back, studying her face.
“Well in that case, I suppose we’d go our separate ways,” he relented.
“And then I’d be alone again.”
“At least you’d be alive.”
They both went silent, letting that hang in the air for a moment too long.
“Give me week to sort things out,” Jeanne finally said, tipping up her face to look at him. “I promise you I will truly consider this before I decide.”
Ian narrowed his eyes, giving her a speculative look.
“Very well,” he agreed. His lips curled up at the corners, giving her a suddenly-heated smile. Reaching out, he tugged at the thin blanket that was the only separation between their bodies.
“What are you doing?” Jeanne asked, puzzled.
“I’m allowed to press my suit, aren’t I?” Ian asked, his voice returning to its’ usual seductive purr.
Jeanne opened her mouth to protest, but Ian merely took the liberty of giving her a swift, open-mouthed kiss. Jeanne couldn’t resist the urge to melt against him, savoring the feel of his lips against hers. His hands roamed predatorily, discarding the blanket before Jeanne even noticed.
Jeanne quickly found herself straddling his lap again, and she thought girl-on-top must be a favorite position of his. She’d have to add that to the “pros” column of her mental pros and cons list.
She froze up for a second, realizing that she couldn’t go all the way with Ian just yet. It wouldn’t be fair… to either of them. Pulling back, she placed her fingers against his lips to pause the onslaught of kisses.
“We can’t um, finish this properly. Not yet,” she said, watching his face intently to gauge his reaction. To her surprise, he merely gave her a dirty grin.
“Please. I figured that out at least two minutes ago,” he teased.
“You did?”
“I believe the expression is, ‘Why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free?’” he said, affecting seriousness.
“Wait. Are you saying you won’t make love to me?” Jeanne gasped, surprised.
“Precisely. I think you’ll find the scales tipping in my favor when you realize all benefits to being with me. I’m going to hold out a little, though. Make you beg for it,” he said loftily.
“I can’t believe you!” Jeanne squawked, slapping his shoulder in pique.
Ian shifted under her body, pressing his hardness against her just so for a long moment before resettling. The feel of his arousal had Jeanne flushing and biting her lip, already wanting more.
“Your blush is the most appealing thing I’ve ever seen, love,” Ian said, touching her cheek gently. Then he stood up and carefully tumbled her back onto the bed. Jeanne expected him to pounce on her, but he merely stretched and rolled his neck to produce a distinct pop.
“Can you manage to stay out of trouble for twenty minutes?” he asked, looked down at Jeanne skeptically.
“I’ve stayed out of trouble my whole life until yesterday,” she pouted. “And where are you going, anyway?”
“I need to retrieve some things from my house to make my stay here more comfortable,” he said casually, turning toward the doorway.
“Your stay- you aren’t staying here!” she protested, pulling the blanket up over her bare skin again.
“Obviously someone has to be around to protect you. You humans are all frail and… delicate,” he said, indicating her with a sweep of his hand.
“I’m not frail! Old people are frail!” Jeanne snapped, crossing her arms.
“You’re dying. I think that counts,” he said dryly.
Damn, she’d forgotten about that for a hot second.
“Thanks for pointing it out again,” she frowned. “In any case, you can’t really stay here. I have a life, a job…” she trailed off. Seeing as how she didn’t really have any family left and her friends had slowly drifted away when they’d heard her illness was terminal, she didn’t have much of a life really.
He caught the direction of her thoughts and threw it back at her.
“Really? I can’t recall seeing you do much of anything fun in the last couple of months. No dates, no dinner with friends, nothing.”
“I go to yoga! Um, sometimes,” she clarified.
“And your work? I bet you just keep going for the health insurance, don’t you? Or maybe you just like a little human connection?” he asked, no longer teasing.
Jeanne frowned but didn’t respond. He was right, of course.
“Okay. So just behave for the next few minutes and I’ll move in –temporarily – and keep you company. No intercourse, and I’ll even sleep in the spare room if you want.”
“How do you even know I have a spare room?” Jeanne asked, indignant. Her question was mostly a diversion so that she didn’t have to admit that she kind of liked the idea of some companionship. The last year had been very lonely.
He chuckled, and headed down the stairs. Jeanne flopped onto her back, head spinning. Was she really letting this stranger – this vampire, no less – stay in her house?
He didn’t really feel like a stranger, she admitted to herself. Their connection was natural, their conversations well-timed and comfortable. And as for the attraction, well… Jeanne couldn’t even pretend that she didn’t want to find out what tricks he had up his sleeve.
But still, that didn’t mean that she wanted to be bound to him forever! No, she really did need to think this through.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, she got up to dress. She’d just have to see how the next week went and then make the best decision she could.
3
Chapter Three
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jeanne had expected the week to drag by interminably. She’d been sure that she wouldn’t like sharing her space, and that it would be like having an inconsiderate roommate. She’d thought, or maybe a little part of her just hoped, that he’d constantly be trying to get her in bed. She’d been certain that she would have nothing in common with a crusty old immortal, that he would think her immature and childish. Worst of all she’d been convinced that he would realize how awful she was and simply change
his mind, taking his seductive smile and life-saving offer with him.
Instead he’d been absolutely perfect. He’d cooked her meals – apparently garlic was no deterrent – and Jeanne was pretty sure he tidied her house when she wasn’t looking.
Other than a few mostly chaste kisses and a lot of sultry gazes, they hadn’t taken their passion any further. Jeanne was nearly out of her mind over it, to the point that just his sexy upturned smile had her going wild. She knew he was suffering as much as she was, even though he pretended otherwise.
And Jeanne had quickly found out that Ian wasn’t as old as all that – he’d been transformed by a mentor-like figure in the seventies. He still understood all the pop-culture references and bad puns she made, but he also professed to love opera and literature. When she’d jokingly mentioned that she felt a little outclassed, he’d very somberly told her that she’d have an eternity to listen to opera and eons to read all the great works of classical literature.
A little chill of pleasure had slid down her spine at the certainty in his statement.
“We’ll have an eternity, love,” he’d said.
He’d reinforced that by saying that if she needed more time to decide, she ought to take it. Jeanne had felt her heart flip over with happiness before she could even think to squash the sensation. It was those little loves and darlings that he kept sprinkling through his speech, Jeanne was certain.
But the killing blow to Jeanne’s resistance had come this morning, the seventh morning she’d awoken to a gourmet Ian-made breakfast. It was eggs benedict this time, delivered on a tray to her bed. The fact that Ian had appeared shirtless, clad only in a pair of thin flannel pajama bottoms, to bring her tray made the food decidedly less interesting. Still, Jeanne had eaten every bite with relish.
“Jeanne,” he’d said after he’d taken the tray away and returned. He sat down on the bed next to her, making his clean scent waft around her.
“Yes?” she’d asked, already sleepy again though she’d just woken up. She’d told herself the fatigue was probably just from too much hollandaise sauce, and pushed the feeling firmly out of her mind.