by Kat Turner
Eve on his arm, Jonnie stepped into a charming nook of a boutique restaurant decorated with lots of dark wood and oil paintings in ornate frames. Scrumptious scents of garlic and basil made his mouth water. They walked to an intimate table for two set with sleek menus. A lit candle dripped red wax onto a wine bottle coated with layers of the hardened substance. The sum of it all made for a homey, accessible elegance.
“The night we met, I passed by this place. I was in one of my funks and looking in the window made me crabby. Because I wasn’t allowed to have a nice date here like they were,” Eve said.
“Ah. But you are. And you’ll have a nice time tonight, Eve. I’ll see to it.”
A waiter with a handlebar moustache and a necktie made to look like piano keys sidled up to the table. “Whoa. I know you. Holy shit, you’re Jonnie Tollens.”
Jonnie forced a polite smile. He wasn’t in the mood, but such was the nature of the fame beast. He was lucky, blessed, to have the admiration of fans.
“How do you do, mate?” He offered a hand, and the young man shook it with robust enthusiasm.
Other diners turned to gawk, whispering and tittering.
After several minutes of talking about his favorite Fyre albums and shows, the bands he’d played in over the years, and something having to do with a Hollywood audition Jonnie didn’t quite catch the gist of, the waiter got to listing the specials.
Jonnie deferred to Eve with a tip of his hand.
She pursed her lips like she was fighting laughter. “I’ll take the pork bucatini and a glass of pinot noir.” Pressing two fingertips to her mouth, she looked to the side, her full chest rising and falling with stifled chuckles.
He licked his teeth, consumed by the sight of her amusement. He’d get to the bottom of this laughter in a second. “Spaghetti carbonara, please. And make it a bottle of pinot for the table.”
“You got it…mate. Say, can I get a quick autograph?” The man fished a white rectangle from the pocket of his apron.
Jonnie signed his name on the back of a business card and handed it over with a smile.
Beaming and giddy as he admired his prize, the flushed waiter took off.
Eve threw her head back as a peal of laughter tore from her throat.
“What?” Jonnie leaned forward, chuckling in sympathy. Perhaps if he prodded her, he’d keep her smiling and laughing. What a treat.
“That was absurd. Dude was fanboying so hard I thought he’d fall to his knees and kiss your feet.”
Heat crept up Jonnie’s cheeks. He rubbed a lock of his hair between two fingers. “Yes, it’s a bit ridiculous. But things like that happen all the time, believe it or not.”
“Is it fun, being famous, or weird?” She took a sip of water, regaining her composure.
“Both. I’m honored and blessed for everything I have, everything we’ve built and sustained over the years. The music business is brutal, we’re talking hundreds of thousands of top acts competing for a shot, and there is a ton of luck involved. That’s not lost on me. So I don’t let myself take the fans for granted. Same with roadies and staff and all the rest, you know? Because the same people you see on the way up? You’ll see them all on the way down.”
A glimmer dashed through her gentle eyes. “Where are you hiding the big rocker ego you’re supposed to have?”
Jonnie considered the question, smiling a thanks at the waiter as he laid down bread and a complimentary appetizer plate of fried calamari rings. The man popped a wine cork and poured him a sample. Jonnie tasted the light, fruity sip, tendering his approval with a slight nod. Waiter filled their wine glasses and left.
“It always seemed too dangerous to get an outsized head.” He dunked a calamari ring in a small dish of red sauce and munched, enjoying the texture contrast of chewy and crisp, the light sweetness of seafood cut by its tangy condiment.
“Elaborate.” She raised her brows, buttering bread.
He settled a little deeper into his chair, melding with his surroundings. It had been ages since someone new had expressed such a genuine desire to get know him as a person, shown real interest in what went on inside of his head. Most of his interactions outside of those with his family, band, and music industry people mirrored the one with the waiter.
Though in his romantic life he was careful to screen out both star-chasing opportunists and groupies with hero worship in their eyes, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been out on a date with someone as down to earth as Eve.
He could exhale and be a person around her, let go of the celebrity construct. He loved this with a refreshing intensity. “The larger the ego gets, the more fragile. It’s like a balloon that way. A bubble you must baby and protect. It’s why so many famous people surround themselves with flunkies and hangers-on, you know? People who won’t remind them they put on their pants one leg at a time.”
Another good-natured laugh, wide enough he caught sight of a silver filling on one of her back molars. “As opposed to putting on pants how?” she asked in a dry, amused voice as she lifted her glass.
He watched her throat move as she swallowed wine, heat gathering below his navel. They might have to cut this dinner short and head back to her place sooner rather than later. “With rock star magic, I suppose.”
“So that’s not a thing?”
“Nah. At the end of the day, I’m just a gawky boy from East London with a knack for stringed instruments and the blessing of the gods.”
Their entrees arrived, fragrant with spices. Steam clouds rose from artfully plated, tasteful portions of pasta. Jonnie thanked the waiter, and the lad bowed slightly before heading to another table.
“We both know you’re a hell of a lot more than that.” After her statement, candied with a glaze of suggestive temptation, she leaned her head back enough to reveal the pulse in her neck.
He stifled a moan as he stared at that sweet column of smooth skin and corded muscle. He could hear the throb, too, the fountain of life pumping under her supple flesh.
“You know you want it.” Maintaining the arch of her upper spine, she speared a bite of meat and pasta and popped it in her mouth. Flicked her tongue over the pointed tines of the fork.
He pictured that hot little tongue of hers lingering on his fangs, tasting her own blood. In his pants, balls tightened and cock grew to near-fullness. “You’re torturing me.”
“Good.”
“We don’t know what would happen.” Excitement kicked up his heartbeat, proximity of forbidden desire luring him. He wouldn’t hurt Eve. He had self control. But who knew, though, what would happen if they released the demon in full force. Things could go awry if they offered Eve’s delectable essence to the monster man within.
Her dark dare of a gaze pinned his as she drank. A red bead of wine touched the corner of her lip, and she captured it with a finger and sucked the tip.
His thoughts spun in a fuzzy haze of desire and anticipation. Somehow, God help him, he managed to kill his lust and tuck into his food.
“This subject is closed until after dinner.” He threw a randy wink in the teasing little minx’s direction. “Now tell me about Eve. Why did you choose the career you did? Have the dead people always sought you out?”
Between bites, Eve shared her story with him while he listened. Driven by both an interest in biology and a desire to help others, she’d enrolled in mortuary school instead of traditional college. Plus, she noted with irreverent and savvy recognition, her chosen profession would never want for customers.
Smart, in this uncertain economy. Jonnie twirled the last bite of his dish and ate, savoring creamy sauce and perfectly cooked al dente noodles. Being famous had its perks. Restaurants never bolloxed up his order.
He learned of her preference for solitude and down time, her propensity for movie nights with close friends or family as opposed to big parties and such.
Eve dreamed of visiting Hawaii one day, adored wallpaper for its vintage aesthetic, and had an ambivalent relationship with
the sunrise.
“Because of your insomnia?”
“Yeah. I have this visceral negative reaction to them, because they symbolize my not having gone to sleep. But I get how that’s selfish. They also represent optimism, which I could use more of. A beginning, not an end. The promise that this day will be better than the last. After all, if the sun is still coming up, that’s one more day where the world hasn’t ended.”
Eve’s brand of optimism tickled him. It was a sort peculiar to her, sardonic without being cynical. And she needed to give herself more credit. The landscape of the woman’s mind might might not be a field full of grinning daisies, but it was no graveyard either. There might be some weeds growing in her yard, but so what? A strategic blemish on a portrait made it interesting.
“What?” Shooting him a gotcha look, she swiped bread across her cleaned plate, scooping up the last of her russet sauce.
“I’m glad we’re doing this.”
“I guess if we keep hanging out I’ll need to give up on sunrises altogether, huh?”
Nah. If anyone needed to adapt, it would be him. She was exactly right, just who she was. Eve was where she needed to be, and he would help her see that. “There’s no if about it.”
The waiter brought the bill in a long black sleeve. He set two truffles, wrapped in tinfoil so they looked like swans, on the burgundy tablecloth. Eve scooped her purse off the floor and unzipped it.
He laid a hand over hers. “Let me.”
They play-bickered over the bill for a minute, but when Jonnie finally managed to swipe the narrow folder and open it, he discovered the house had comped the bill. Following a flirty round of back and forth, he and Eve each slid in a big bill as a tip for the waiter.
“Now let’s get out of here.” She picked up the chocolate birds, proffering him a coquettish glimpse into some dirty thought machinating in that mind of hers.
Jonnie took her hand and led her into the night. He couldn’t move fast enough.
Seventeen
Eve refused to think about the bloody towel. She fucking refused. Because she deserved this. A fun night out with a man she liked—a man she cared about. Her mind latched on to the memories of the last hour. Enjoying a sexy, intimate dinner at the cute little couples’ place. His snuggling her close as they’d walked to her home, the closeness of their bodies offering a buffer against the wind. The autumn smell of wet leaves and glowing jack-o-lanterns, enjoyed together. His interest as she’d given him the tour of her place, told him of its history.
And now they lay on her bed, his hands buried in her hair as he kissed her jaw, his breathing growing excited as he moved on top of her.
But that ugly remainder persisted, marring contentment. The towel she’d left with Susan after the woman had spilled her guts but held back crucial details until she’d gotten what she wanted. A bit of vampire blood direct from the source, for which she would have sacrificed her only living child.
Stains on a towel, stains on Eve’s soul. Damning, besmirching marks on her character. The mark of betrayal, out damn spot. There was blood on her hands.
“Are you into this, Eve?” Jonnie’s fingers slipped under her shirt and stroked her ribs. Her skirt was bunched at her waist. His stiff excitement pressed into the hot juncture of her spread legs.
“I so am.” She spoke a truth, begging her thoughts to still. Whatever Susan would do with the rag, feed it to her monsters or hand it over to her employers for money, Eve and Jonnie could manage. She hadn’t let herself back down or hesitate at that house. No way would she put the life of her lover or parents at risk.
Senseless fear gnawed at her thoughts, but she stuffed it deep down in her mind. She was being paranoid, dark and morose, standing in the way of her own happiness like always.
“Are you sure? You feel a little tense, seem a bit distracted.” He pulled his touch and body away, looking in her eyes for honesty.
Enough. He’d sensed some reluctance off her, and she wasn’t going to let her downer worries take over and spoil the mood. She deserved this pleasure tonight, deserved his attention and company and caresses. And he deserved to feel good, too, deserved her participation as an enthusiastic partner.
“I am.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “I promise.”
“Good. I am, too. I love your sexy body on this elegant bed.”
She sat up on her four-post queen. Diaphanous canopy trim the color of the sky hung above their entwined bodies. For the first time in her life she felt cherished upon her princess bed. Everything was fine. Susan got what she wanted. Like Jonnie had said, evil boils down to simple greed at the end of the day, and the Mudd family greed had been satiated. The end. Right?
Jonnie unclasped her bra, pulling it and her shirt off her torso with an upward tug. The garments joined her blazer on the floor. She went for the zipper on her skirt.
“Leave it, please.” Arousal thickened his voice. He peeled off his own tee shirt in one swift motion and undid his jeans. Off they went, leaving him lithe and lean in dark boxer briefs speared with need. Those wild tattoos on his tawny skin made her even hotter.
He slid down her figure, trailing fingertips along her sensitive skin before circling each nipple. She moaned as tingles and aches obliterated her mind and turned her into a being of pure sensation. She spread wide, presenting as she propped herself on her elbows for a better view. So wanton and unabashed, to want to watch.
The last of her anxiety dissolved, and she refused to fight it.
Jonnie gripped her stockings on either side of her crotch and yanked. She gasped, wet and tender as fabric tearing filled her ears. Cool air greeted the hot spot between her legs, a tactile preview of sensation that stoked her craving for more. Next, he ripped holes in her stockings at the toes, his pulls erotic in their purpose, their methodical confidence.
He smirked as he tore one final gash in the thin nylon, a big one right above her knee. “Dirty you up a bit.”
Breathing heaved her bare chest. Everything he’d said was nasty, perfect, a passport to paradise.
“Hand me one of those chocolates.” He massaged the insides of her thighs with slow hands.
Her clit jerked. God, yes. She saw where this was going. Eve scrabbled a hand on her nightstand, knocking a pen and a coin to the hardwood floor as she scooped up a foil swan.
“Greedy.” He licked his lips as he took the bird and unwrapped it in a slow torment, revealing the brown orb of a treat within. A chocolate vein dripped down its smooth surface. She stared at the ball of candy, overcome with a hunger having nothing to do with food.
Fortunately, Jonnie bypassed the teasing games. He pulled her panties to one side and rubbed the truffle into her pussy, melting it into liquid as it mingled with her juices, her heat.
Moaning from the rubbing pressure and the decadence of it all, Eve thrust her hips into his touch. Her ache spread to her lower belly, pleasure coiling and growing as she relished the contact with her most sensitive part.
“I want to eat you.” He said it with a dark urge that shot fire through her veins. His face sharpened in the low light, taking on that uncanny, draconian cast that drove her wild.
“Do it.” Jesus, she was already close to climax, tense as pleasure rose to need. “Bite me.”
Instead he smeared more chocolate into her folds, around and around in big circles, bringing the truffle to rest right at her opening. He held her hips and dipped his head down, lower half of his face vanishing between her legs. His tongue hit her slick, swollen center and lapped, the first contact with his firm lick prompting Eve to suck air through her teeth.
“She likes that,” Jonnie murmured, lapping melted chocolate from her, sweeping his exploration over the chunk dissolving at her entrance.
Her eyes watered. She held her breath. He delivered a few licks to her hidden lips, then to her outer ones, tasting the candy here and there. Everywhere but where she needed him to lick and suck. She panted with anticipation and frustration. Mindlessly watching him w
ork, she studied his sharp brow line and dark eyebrows, his tousled black hair.
His tongue shot out in a flash, a long slide of red. He used the top, skated it over her rock of a bulged clit.
With an unladylike grunt of greed and relief, Eve sat up more, widening her legs as she sought her finish. She parted her lips and rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she lost herself to the warm, wet strokes of his mouth. Liquefied chocolate and her slickness flowed.
She was there in a minute, groaning with triumph as urgency cracked into ecstasy. She bucked her ass, the mattress squeaking underneath her motions. He flicked his eyes up to hers, surprising her with the sight of his monster eyes.
A mindless chorus of “oh yeahs” tumbled from her mouth in selfish screams as his tongue slid up and down and his gaze made her woozy with forbidden lust. Twin points of white, the little spears she wanted stabbed into her flesh so, so bad, taunted her. Two chiseled tips of bone, sharpened ivory pencils, flashed her from the edge of his top lip.
Eve howled as she came apart under his relentless ministrations. Fantasies of those fangs sinking into her tender thigh, her engorged pussy even, spurred her on as she rode it out. When it was over, she flopped back onto the mattress, panting and spent.
The fabric of her underwear strained against her body in a tight pull, then tore. It took her climax-clouded brain a second to process what had happened: he’d used a fang to rip the material from her body. A shiver of titillation stole over her.
Jonnie gave her nary a second to recover before he crawled up her body with the fixed determination of a predator.
“Hand me the second one.” His order was dangerous and hard, a sword forged in darkness.
She lit up with recognition, catching the secret meaning in his low voice. It was time. It was on. In one quick swipe, Eve snagged the remaining truffle.