His eyes sparkled. “I can’t wait to see what you have in mind.”
I played “Black #1” by Type O Negative on my phone, connecting it to his speakers. As the first notes of the song surrounded us, Tristan’s eyes flickered with excitement. He knew what was coming next and slid back on the bed for the show.
Swaying to the music with slow, seductive moves, I removed articles of clothing. When down to my black satin and lace underwear, I sidled up to Tristan. Grinding my ass over him, I smiled at the promisingly hard erection.
“Oh Maya,” he crooned, and ran a finger down the middle of my back.
I turned around and leaned forward, so my breasts caressed his face. He kissed the skin spilling over the top of my bra. I slid down against his body, making sure to linger and heighten the anticipation. When I reached between his legs, I stroked his hard length through the fabric.
“Let’s take these off,” I suggested.
“Yes.” Tristan removed his shirt, pants, and every other piece of clothing in record time.
I smiled and admired his physique. He was tall and toned with contours that ached for my touch. “That’s better.”
With none of his clothing impending my way, I traced my fingers over his torso and let my hair fall over the head of his shaft. After brushing it away, I licked the tip, tasting the salty flavor as his musk tickled my nostrils. He bent his head back and groaned. Taking his cock in my hands, I teased him with short, exploratory strokes of my tongue before taking him into my mouth. When I added long, tight strokes of my hand, he ran his fingers through my hair and murmured, “Yes.”
He moved his hips up in conjunction and moaned. I was getting even more into it, sensing he was close.
He pulled back. “That feels so good, but you have to stop before I come.”
Tristan flipped me onto my back and I squealed. “Time for me to play.” He grinned with utter mischief.
He flipped to another song, a dark version of “Moonlight Sonata.” Then he pulled out some scarves and waved them before me. “Have you been a good girl?”
I smiled with sweet anticipation. “No. I’ve been bad.”
Tristan flipped me onto my stomach and fastened my wrists and ankles to the bedposts. “How bad?”
“Very bad. I should be punished.”
A slap on my ass made me cry out. I turned my face into the soft cotton of the pillow.
“And you will be.” He slid a digit between my legs and inside me. “Already so wet. I bet you enjoyed that.”
“Yes,” I agreed.
He slapped me again. This time I groaned at the sweet pain. The music echoed around me with forceful impact and I braced for more slaps. He teased me, alternating between the pain of his palm and the pleasure of his fingers and tongue caressing me. Then, finally, he drove in from behind me. Unable to move, I relinquished all control to him. He took and he gave, using his fingers to bring me to a crashing climax as I lay helpless on the bed.
After he untied me, I climbed on top of him and took the lead. Already so primed, it didn’t take long to climb back to a ragged peak and shatter over him. He soon followed, exploding into me with hot spurts.
I lowered myself onto Tristan’s chest and our raging heartbeats pounded against each other. While our breaths slowed, he rubbed a figure eight on my back.
For the first time in a while, I had the feeling that everything was going to be all right.
But, at the same time, something at the back of my mind questioned—would it last?
Nike
Three nights passed, and I didn’t hear from Michel. Well, perhaps that was for the better. He could go on without me. I’d find a place of my own.
In my angst, I turned to where I often found solace—music. At first, I listened to hard, fast, angry playlists, from “Add it Up” by the Violent Femmes to “Walk” by Pantera. As the rage subsided, I switched to more melancholy ones, songs of love and loss—a lot from the Cure.
One thing became clear: I missed him.
Several times, I thought about going to Rock Hard Climbing and talking things out. But maybe he was happier this way. After being saddled with me for so long, he was finally free.
Who was the one who needed independence, after all?
After enough debate, I called the gym. Michel didn’t answer, but I left him a message apologizing for my outburst and asking if we could talk soon.
The night of Maya and Tristan’s wedding arrived. I’d decided I’d go there before the wedding to see if we could patch things up between us, but I wasn’t sure how she’d take my arrival and fidgeted nonstop. She hated to have issues with anyone, which could sometimes end up with her being taken advantage of. I guessed this wedge between us bothered her a great deal. But I could be wrong, and perhaps she’d decided she’d had enough of my bullshit. In which case, going there would be a bad idea.
If Michel were here, he’d say something encouraging like, “Why don’t you just call her and let her know you’d like to come?”
Right. That was the sensible thing to do, but he wasn’t here. And with the growing canyon between Maya and me, it was better to talk to her face-to-face. But I’d have to work up the nerve to crash her wedding and congratulate her—and admit I’d turned into a vampire.
My new existence required preparations. I’d arranged for two blood donors to come to the house, so I’d be well-fed. The more I drank, the less likely I’d nibble on a wedding guest. For much of the afternoon, I killed time by stalking through the empty house, looping through the milestones of my relationship with Michel.
He was so selfless with me. Although the last thing he’d ever wanted to do was create a nightwalker, he’d given me some of his blood to save me the night Ricard had drained me. And I’d been all but a stranger to him. He’d sold Vamps to search for a cure for my ailment with me in Europe. And when that hadn’t happened, he did what he’d said he’d never do…all because I’d asked him to.
And why? I could only guess one thing—love.
No matter how many times I repeated these thoughts, it all played out to the same conclusion. Long ago, we’d vowed to face whatever obstacles we’d encounter together. Somehow, I’d lost sight of that. Sure, I thought independence was what I needed, but what good was a life without the people you loved in it?
I’d made a mistake, and I wanted him back.
But first I had to make amends with Maya. It was her wedding night, and she deserved better from me.
I put on a tea-length sapphire dress with just enough sparkle to be dressy, but reserved enough for an intimate garden wedding. When evening finally fell, I sucked up my pride and drove to Maya and Tristan’s house. Super-fidgety, I turned up the music to drown out my thoughts—“Head like a Hole.” Whenever things got too hairy, I slipped deeper in my head, and this was quite the hirsute situation.
When I pulled up to the house, it was easy to find a spot in the driveway. Only a few cars were there already, as the ceremony wouldn’t start for a good hour. Probably the caterers and musicians, if she’d hired them. These were things a maid of honor should know…if she hadn’t been so damn selfish.
I entered the front door, which was unlocked. Nobody was in the living room, but I could hear female voices upstairs—Maya and her mother.
“Mom, stop fussing over me. It’s just a dress,” she said.
“It’s not just a dress,” Mrs. Winters said. “It’s a wedding gown. Probably one of the most meaningful articles of clothing you’ll ever wear. And you only wear it once.” After a pause, she added, “Hopefully.”
“The dress is fine,” Maya insisted.
“Let me help with your hair then.”
“Please, no,” Maya responded. “I’ve been doing my own hair for years.”
I ascended the stairwell and knocked tentatively on the bedroom door.
“Come in,” Maya said. “Wait, unless it’s Tristan—in which case, you’re not supposed to see me yet!”
Oh Maya. How I’d missed her.
&
nbsp; I opened the door and asked, “Am I too late?”
Maya was dressed in a floor-length classic ivory gown, like she’d stepped out of a vintage bride’s catalog. It was a sleeveless and elegant dress, flattering her long willowy curves and tapering at the bottom like a mermaid’s tail. It was perfect for a summer evening garden wedding.
Her mouth fell open. “Nike!”
She raised her arms and tried to run to hug me, but the fitted gown inhibited that move and she almost fell on her ass.
I zipped forward so quickly and caught her, but then realized it was a mistake. Her mother was there, and it wasn’t smart to show off my super-speed in front of anyone.
Fortunately, her mother was distracted by the possibility of Maya crashing in her wedding dress that she didn’t seem to notice my indiscretion. I had to be careful around humans.
“Maya, no sudden movements in this dress,” her mother scolded. “If you tear it, or twist an ankle…”
“Mom, I’m okay.” Maya shooed her away with a quick movement of her hands. “Can you give us a minute?”
“Fine. But I need to help you with your makeup,” her mother said, fussing over her again.
Maya gave me an exacerbated look.
“Maya already recruited me for that duty, Mrs. Winters,” I piped up, to save Maya from another bickering session stressing her out.
Maya smiled with gratitude and then rolled her eyes toward her mother, careful not to let her see.
Her mother pursed her lips. “Please don’t overdo it. I know how you girls go for that goth look, but it’s too much makeup for tonight.”
“We have a plan,” I said. “Maya will look beautiful.”
“Mom, we have it all under control. We’re having a simple wedding, so we can all relax and enjoy ourselves. Go on and enjoy yourself.”
Her mother’s expression contorted as if wrestling with the idea. She likely thought she should dote on Maya on her wedding day.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
Maya gave her mother a grateful smile. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be down soon.” Then she kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks for everything. You’re the best mom ever, and I’m so lucky to have you.”
Her mother’s eyes shined with tears. The happy kind.
After she left, Maya let out a “Whew” with a brush of the back of her hand against her forehead. “I thought she’d be adamant and insist on getting her hands involved with some part of my preparations. God only knows how my mom would do my makeup. No thanks.” She spread her hands to the side.
I picked up the makeup bag and slanted her a sly look. “So, you want to look super goth tonight, right? We’ll switch out your wedding dress for the secret black lace one I have stashed in my trunk.”
Maya laughed. “Can you imagine? She’d probably stop the ceremony and insist I march back up the aisle to change and wash that gunk off my face.”
“All right.” I fished out the black liquid eye liner. “But I can do a little cat’s eye with your eyes, right?”
“Hell yes,” she agreed. “I’d feel naked without it. But don’t go full on Amy Winehouse with the eye makeup, okay?” Then Maya fixed her wide eyes on me. “The million-dollar, elephant-in-the-room question is…what are you doing here?”
My gaze lowered to the floor, but I forced myself to face her. “Apologizing for being an ass.”
She rolled her shoulders. “I get it. You had things going on.”
“I’ve been self-absorbed during these past couple of months, only thinking about myself and my problems. You asked me to be here for you and I completely bailed on you. It was a shit thing to do and I’m sorry.”
“If anyone should apologize, it should be me,” Maya said. “I mean, you were going through some crazy shit, and I was so focused on the wedding, I didn’t think to help you through it.”
I smiled. She didn’t hate me. We still had something to work with to repair the damage I’d caused.
She peered closer. “Did you do it?”
“Can’t you tell?”
She studied me. “No, not really. You looked different already when you came back from Europe.”
Hmm, that was another sign that the transformation had started long before I took this final plunge with Michel.
She added, “Now, you’re all dressed up and glamorous and all, but other than that, I can’t tell.”
“Speaking of glamorous, Oh my God, Maya—that’s the most beautiful dress ever! It’s perfect for you. Now that I see you in it, I can’t imagine you in anything different.”
She twirled halfway and smiled. “Thanks.” Then she wiped the smile and raised an index finger. “Are you avoiding the question?”
“No,” I said. “It’s done.”
Her eyes bulged wider. “Holy shit. So, it’s real—you’re a vampire?”
“Yeah.” I almost clarified and said nightwalker, but no need—plus, it would remind me of Michel.
“When? How? I mean, what’s it like?” Maya’s eyes opened wider than all five Olympic rings.
“Take a seat and I’ll explain while I get to work.”
Maya plopped down in the chair in front of her vanity. “Okay, now I’m ready.”
While I prepped her makeup, I quickly summarized the past couple of months, leaving out how Michel and I had split up. It was her wedding day and the focus should be on her. I quickly shifted to the usual pre-wedding questions. Was she nervous, excited, and so on?
The distraction worked. “Mostly excited, but it’s the jittery excited, you know?”
I could relate. Although my recent experience with that was before the bite that ended my mortal life. “That sounds about normal to me.”
She studied me while I worked on her makeup. “Thanks for doing this for me. I know you’ve had a rough couple of years.”
“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here. I realized I couldn’t miss your wedding for anything.”
“Not even immortality?” She winked. “That’s true friendship right there. You sped through your transition, but I’m not buying the deflection. How are you doing with the whole new world?”
The ups and downs of the past month flashed before me. “It’s an adjustment, for sure. It’s weird not seeing the sun—and stranger still to fear it.”
“Are you glad you did it?”
That part was easier to answer. “Yes. Being trapped between two worlds was a nightmare. I didn’t belong to either. At least now I have a path to move forward on.”
“And you get to be twenty-four forever, you lucky shit.”
I raised a brow. “And you’ll have babies and grandbabies as you grow older with Tristan. Something Michel and I will never have.”
She spread her hands. “The old grass is greener catch-22. What’s important is you have Michel to help you through this.”
Not anymore. And hearing her say his name like we were still together hit me with a pang that echoed in my gut. Opting for deflection once again, I said, “I’m really happy for you, Maya. And so glad to see you this ecstatic.”
Her face turned down. “I’ve had a bit of an identity crisis lately, but I think I’m over it.”
“What happened?”
Maya explained how she’d learned about Pelé and how she might be related to the fire goddess. “It threw me into a tailspin, making me question if I even know who I am.”
“And you’re okay now?”
“Well, Tristan helped talk me through it, getting me to focus on the present rather than dwell on the past. I have to admit, it was one of the times I really missed you. I wished we could have just hashed it out over some wine.”
Ugh, a reminder of how I’d been a shitty friend. “It’s not too late. I’ll be right back.” I ran downstairs and found a couple of wine glasses and poured some white wine I found in the fridge. No way would I risk red wine getting anywhere close to that wedding dress.
When I returned and handed her a glass, she said,
“I still have some last-minute jitters. They’re not as bad as before, amplified to volcanic proportions.”
I laughed at her choice of words. “What happened?”
“Is it foolish to start a future with someone without knowing your past?” With the uncertain glimmer in her wide blue eyes, I sensed how much this still troubled her.
“You do, though. You have wonderful parents who’ve raised you since you were an infant.”
“I know and I love them. No complaints there.” She took a sip of wine. “The biological bomb of a revelation just days before my wedding is disturbing, though.”
“No matter where you were born, you’re still the same person now. The same brave, spontaneous, lovable Maya who’s the most loyal of friends, who I’m lucky to have in my life. Who you are doesn’t change.” I pointed to her chest. “You’re still you.”
“Thanks.” She gave me a grateful smile. “I needed to hear that.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. You and Tristan are a perfect match. I’m happy for you.”
She flashed an enigmatic smile and then caught my eyes. “Who would have thought that all those nights we’d escape to go dancing at Vamps would lead to finding our perfect partners?”
Ignoring the anguish of how that statement sliced me, I forced a grin. “Who would have anticipated our lives would veer down such different paths?”
Neither of us spoke as we considered that and I finished her makeup. Once I set her free from the chair, she unrolled the curlers. She sprayed each end with hairspray, and then pinned back the sides so they tumbled down in curls with the rest of her hair in the back. She pulled out some loose tendrils and curled them to frame her face. Then we added some sparkle with pins.
When she assessed herself in the mirror, she turned to me.
“I think we’re good. What do you think?”
Whoa. With the full effect of the hair and the makeup and the gown, she looked like a princess. “You look beautiful, Maya. Absolutely stunning. Tristan might pass out on seeing you.”
She widened her eyes. “He damn well better not. That would be the lamest wedding night ever. So not up to expectations! And I have plenty tonight.”
Combust: a vampire and firefighter paranormal romance (Underground Encounters Book 7) Page 7