This story is currently available on Amazon for 99cents if you'd like it for your ereader and permanently. (These fic may be taken down in Dec for some holiday fics to get up! ;) If you like it here, drop a review on amazon and you can earn a free formatted copy! ;) Enjoy!
I’m not an impulsive person, but tonight I was feeling self-destructive—or maybe just stupid. Incredibly stupid, to come to the hip, slightly derelict side of the city just because I’d been dumped…again. My friends hadn’t wanted to come, but I’d managed to drag a few of them to the first club. They’d looked around with distaste at the dimly lit, dirty, body-packed dance floor and immediately begged me to go somewhere else. It definitely wasn’t our usual scene.
‘You know, David, a new wine bar opened uptown’ one of them had said. ‘It would only take twenty minutes to get to Serendipity, they have live jazz tonight’ another suggested.
But I wouldn’t be dissuaded. I’d ordered shots when they ordered watered-down beer (the establishments around Graveston didn’t bothering serving wine), and I was properly smashed within an hour. They’d had enough and headed for the door.
Troy pulled me aside before following the others. “You really should come with us. Someone’s going to try to pick you up,” he said, eyes flitting around the questionable patrons, “and I don’t think you want the attentions of these kind of people.”
“Maybe that’s just what I need,” I retorted. Not that I really believed I was going to get hit on. Not only was I in jeans when every other guy was in skin-tight leather, but most of the men had chiseled features and cut bodies. I had plain light brown hair, pale blue eyes, and although not in bad shape, I doubted I measured up to the ruggedly dangerous club-goers.
Rolling his eyes at my refusal, Troy tucked a card for a cab company into my pocket and gave me a sad shake of the head before leaving.
Fuck it, I thought. I’m tired of keeping on the safe side of the street.
My most recent ex had been like all the others—nice, made a good living, easy on the eyes, etc.—and our relationship had drifted into the realm of ho-hum in under three months. A record. I always ended up in ‘Friendville’.
The alcohol in my system made me feel bold, though—like I could start over and be someone else. I went to the next club, one that was pumping music so loud I could feel the vibrations of the base about a block away. The building was nondescript outside, but once you stepped in, the place looked like a glitzy, converted dungeon. The walls were sleek black, the lighting pulsed with blue and red and purple. It was better maintained than many of the places in the area, but the floors were still sticky and I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to see what the place looked like in proper lighting. But the patrons definitely weren’t interested in lighting. From the dark corners I could see entwined bodies moving in rhythm, and in a panicked moment, I wondered if they were doing more than dancing.
The shock of my surroundings began to sober me. I headed for the bar. After twenty minutes, I’d observed enough to know that the club wasn’t quite as bad as I’d originally thought. I wasn’t about to be abducted or raped out in the alley, but it was by far the seediest place I’d ever been. The dance floor writhed with sweaty bodies showing more skin than a beach. I remembered dancing when I was just a young, stupid teenager, and how damn fun it had been. I hadn’t hit thirty yet; I wasn’t an old man. I was going to fucking dance.
I did, and it was both more exhausting and more erotic than I remembered. I returned to the bar sweaty and satisfied. I ordered a drink with water on the side, which I quickly downed. I turned around and gazed out over the crowd as I nursed my bloody mary. It was a tacky drink to get on this side of town and the bartender had given me a mild look of disgust when I ordered it. I was too drunk for it to bother me. Too drunk to remember that this part of town actually saw its fair share of vamps.
I just sipped my drink and considered heading back to the dance floor. I almost did…then I saw him. He was on the balcony above—dark, handsome, and vaguely dangerous for some reason I couldn’t put my finger on. We made eye contact and when he smiled, my skin began to tingle. My heart thumped louder in my ears than the music as I saw him head for the stairs and cross the room toward me. The stranger moved with a predatory grace and even in the low light of the club he glowed pale.
I should’ve put two and two together, but I was damn drunk…and horny. So when he stood in front of me and leaned in to whisper, “You’re new,” all I could do was try not to gape at his beauty.
“Y-yeah, it’s my first time here.” I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing to admit or not, but his dark eyes sparked with amusement, making me blush.
He leaned past me over the bar to order a drink I’d never heard of, the heat of his shoulder pressing into mine as he did so. I tried unsuccessfully to suppress a jolt of arousal. I’d never been the carnal type—I always thought things through and kept my passions from ruling my head. But in the instant his arm went about my waist, all rationale fled.
I could blame it on the liquor, but I knew that wasn’t the case. There was something about this man who stood before me—grinning like a wolf eyeing a rabbit—that sparked a fire deep inside me. His eyes almost looked gold in the light of the club. Looking in those eyes, a sudden, keen desire shot through me, more raw than I had ever known before.
The stranger moved his lips to graze lightly over mine, then down along my jaw line. I felt him press a kiss to my throat and breath deep—a low, rumbling groan escaping those perfect lips. His grip on my waist tightened, pressing our hard groins together.
My pulse rushed and I felt him draw his tongue across my jugular. It almost seemed as if he could smell my arousal and taste the excitement on my skin.
“Wanna get out of here?” he asked in a husky whisper, barely heard over the music.
The words reverberated against the shell of my ear. All I could do was nod stupidly and follow him out the door. Even the odd looks we got on the way out failed to trigger the proper warning bells.
I hailed a cab and stepped into it with him in a daze. I didn’t do one-night stands. Even in college it had been rare—I barely dated casually. I was a long-term kinda guy. So the fact I was now about to take a complete stranger home—a mysterious, good-looking one at that—had my heart pounding with forbidden, childlike giddiness.
It wasn’t until we were actually walking into my apartment and he stood waiting outside the door that something itched at the back of my brain in warning.
“Are you going to invite me in?” he asked.
What an odd question, I thought, frowning. “Yeah, come in,” I said with a shrug, wondering at his odd formality. It didn’t seem in keeping with his dark, broody, let’s-go-fuck attitude earlier. Once he crossed the threshold and grinned, however, I was suddenly slammed with my mistake like a wall of bricks.
Shit! My mind squeaked. You just invited a vamp into your home! Stupid, stupid, stupid!
I held up my hands and backed away, a cold chill slithering down my spine. He just smirked and came toward me.
I’d always wondered why vamps had a weird hang-up about being invited in—I’d never more than half believed it. I mean, seriously, blood-sucking low lives were really that hung up on a common courtesy? Yeah, right.
Now, I understood it differently. It was probably the way they defended themselves if anyone ended up called the cops: ‘But, officer, he invited me in.’
Fuck. What the hell was I going to do now?!
My apartment wasn’t very big, just a glorified studio really, and I suddenly found myself with nowhere to go and a very hungry looking vampire stalking me. My knees hit the back of my bed and I tumbled backward. I couldn’t have been more obviously helpless prey if I’d plastered a sign to my forehead!
He was on top of me in seconds.
His limbs were like a cage above me, hemming me in. His lips clamped down over mine and somehow a moan passed my lips rather than a protest. No, no, no! I berated myself. Vamp equals very bad idea! But it didn’t matter, my body just went on begging for more.
“You smell good,” he breathed, his rough voice humming along my every nerve.
If only I could say that he held me down with superhuman strength or psychic powers of the mind or something equally impressive, but I couldn’t. It didn’t take much more than the feel of his firm body and insistent lips to make me whimper in surrender. Sure, he was stronger than me, but that’s not why I let him have his way. I let him have it because he was driving me insane with his kisses and his hands seemed to burn me like fire.
My clothes were tossed aside quicker than I could blink. Fear warred with my passion, but my cock didn’t seem at all concerned, the selfish little bastard. All it knew was that this man above me was pushing all the right buttons.
“Mmmm,” he murmured, tasting my mouth.
His lips were forceful, nearly bruising, and his hands seemed determined to map every part of my body. And beneath every touch of fingers and tongue and teeth, I could sense the consuming need he had for me. It should have been terrifying, but all I felt was the thrill of being so desired, so wanted.
When my lips were finally released, I opened my eyes and watched as he yanked his shirt over his head, and I swallowed hard at the vision that greeted my sight. His abs were taut, like steel beneath his alabaster skin. Removing his shirt had tousled his curly black hair, making him appear even more rakish and sexy—not that he needed much help. His hips were as defined as marble from where they rose out of the low hem of his pants, and an enticing little trail of curly hair led from his navel down into his pants, like a silent invitation. The man was my private wet dream.
Too bad he was a vamp.
Once his grinning lips lowered to lick down my chest, however, I wondered if even that mattered. He tongued and sucked a nipple, causing me to moan shamelessly. My hands dug into the sheets under me so hard I expected to tear them. And the intensity of lust only increased as he worked his way lower.
He kissed along my ribs and sampled the dip of my navel, all the while holding my hips in a forceful grip. It was excruciating pleasure, yet I knew we had only just begun.
I couldn’t tell you how long he ravaged my body—the dizziness from the alcohol and my own desire blurred together and made my head spin. I began to imagine that vamps needed lust more than blood, and that the stranger before me was an incubus. It was a ridiculous notion, but I felt as if he were drawing out my passions to the very edge.
When he took me in his mouth, I had to push him away before I explored. I didn’t want to come just yet—I knew when I did it would wrack my body and leave me utterly spent. With a shrug and a kiss to my cheek, the man flipped me over and gave the same attention to my back. The hot, wet touch of his tongue down my spine made my entire body spasm with need. His kisses over the swell of my ass were playful, throwing me off my guard just before he buried his face in my ass and gave me the best rimming I’d ever had.
I was panting and covered in a fine sheen of sweat when he guided me up onto my knees. To steady my trembling body, he wrapped strong arms around my waist.
“Are you ready?” he asked, in that deep, resonating voice of his.
I nodded, once again unable to form words.
He invaded my body slowly, inch by inch—not at all what I had expected. I’d envisioned him slamming home hard and fast, but this drew out the pleasure like a knife. My thighs shook and I had to lean my weight on my forearms just to hold myself up.
An amused chuckled drifted to my ears, but I had no time to register annoyance as he began to move inside. God, he was big. It stung and I clenched my teeth, willing my muscles to relax.
“Breath,” he said softly, brushing the hair from my eyes.
I did, and he paused to drag his mouth down my throat. My eyes shot open as the first scrape of pointed teeth grazed the crux of my shoulder. He didn’t bite down, but I knew he would. For the first time that night, the reality of what was to happen hit me. A good deal of the alcohol had burned through my system, and I as my mind sobered, I realized with a shock that I had a vamp’s cock up my ass and I was at his total mercy.
“Relax,” he said gently, his tone incongruous with the image I had of him leering over me from behind.
Then his hand reached around to stroke my receding erection, and my passions overtook me again. There was nothing I could do now; I might as well enjoy it… I didn’t have to try very hard.
The vamp readjusted himself behind me and started a smooth, undulating rhythm. I still had to force myself to breath at first, but soon, the pleasure outweighed the pain—maybe the slight sting even intensified it.
Feeling my tension ebbing away, his pace increased, until I could hear the beat of our bodies slapping together in a primal, staccato rhythm. Soon, he was pounding madly into me and I was thrusting back for more. No one had ever been so deep. I grew lightheaded, the thrill I had felt earlier that evening rushing back to me as my orgasm began to build.
Nothing mattered but this moment—the lusty, raw, unfettered sex.
I gasped loudly and suddenly I felt a change come over the man inside me. His fingers around my hips dug down hard as he slammed with new force against me. I cried out, helpless, taken—and soaked in every minute of it.
The vamp lifted me up, holding my back to his chest as he fucked me. One hand went back around my cock, the other across my chest. I could sense him waiting for me, his eagerness for me to come. My sight went blank as a fierce, streaking fire explored inside me. And in the same moment, I felt his mouth smother my neck, sharp fangs piercing the tender skin.
It intensified my orgasm tenfold, and he milked my cock as he drank from my neck—until, spent and weak, I went limp in his arms.
As I fell into bed, I thought I heard the man murmur something, but my mind was already being pulled into the black respite of sleep.
* * *
“So, how was the club? End up going home with a handsome stranger?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin as Holly asked me this over my shoulder the next week at work.
“No way!” she said, her eyes wide at my reaction. “Y-you did?”
“Keep it down!” I hissed, pulling her from the hall into the empty break room. “I just had a…fling, ok?” I said once we were inside.
“Fling! Listen to you, you are so cute!” she giggled. “We both know you don’t do flings, hun.”
“Well, this one was,” I insisted, “so just keep it to yourself.”
She didn’t of course, and half the office was teasing me about it by the end of the week, which really didn’t help my peace of mind. I barely knew what to think about what had happened that night.
I’d woken up alone, very sore and very hung over. It was all a bit fuzzy until I reached up to touch a particularly sensitive area at the base of my neck. I jumped out of bed and ran to the nearest mirror. Christ, there they were: two little puncture wounds, just like you’d read warnings about in health class.
I was surprised they weren’t larger, and damn happy that they seemed to heal so fast, because heaven only knew what my friends would say if they learned I’d been bedded—and bitten—by a vamp.
That first week, I tried to reassure myself that it had been one night of misguided passion. It was over and I could just chalk it up to drunkenness. I certainly wasn’t going to spend my time thinking of some vamp who’d used me and just left me passed out on my bed.
Not that it was surprising. Everyone knew that vamps only led to trouble. It was like taking up with an addict or a prostitute—most would do anything just to get their fix. But whenever I thought about that night, all I could remember was the mutual ecstasy we’d shared. Was I so commitment-crazy that I longed to start up something with a vamp just because we’d had one night of amazing sex?
By the end of the week, I’d managed to push the issue to the back of my brain—but the situation wasn't as finished as I would’ve liked.
As I sat in my apartment that Friday night, ignoring my friends’ calls to go with them to some tedious wine tasting, I heard a noise out on my balcony. The last thing I expected to see was a slim, familiar silhouette standing outside the glass doors.
My heart nearly jumped into my throat. Oh god, my throat. I wondered why the hell I wasn’t more concerned for its safety as my arms slid the door open.
The man stepped quietly inside. I could see the glitter of his eyes in light—dazzling, pulling me in. We were on the bed in minutes, him fucking me like his own private joy doll, me moaning with unabashed rapture. When he bit down, I almost anticipated the sharp sting.
I was fucking hopeless.
After that, his visits became routine. He dropped in whenever it suited him, pinning me to the bed without conversation, taking what he needed, and slipping away while I lay in a dreamy daze of the afterglow.
My co-workers and friends noted my fatigue and eyed me with scrutiny.
“You’ve been looking pretty tired lately,” Troy remarked, raising an eyebrow. “Having some late nights, are we?”
“Uh-huuuh. You’ve got that rumpled morning-after look all the time, you know. If you’re hiding some new beau, you’d better come clean,” he teased.
I scowled and told myself to lock the balcony door at night. I couldn’t keep this up. Enough was enough. I wasn’t some blood slut. But every time I went to flip the latch, something stopped me. Just like something woke me up in the dead of night just before I heard the scuffle of the vamp’s footsteps outside the door.
Even if he was careful not to drain me, I knew this wasn’t healthy. I was probably going to end up diseased or something and eventually my friends would discover my secret and then I’d be up shit creek.
But I couldn’t seem to stop, and before I knew it, this had been going on for nearly a month.
Now I understood the dangers everyone talked about when it came to vamps—how they were like a drug you just couldn’t give up. Was my life going to spiral out of control now? Would I end up getting so involved with this vamp that I’d lose my job, my home, and end up some vamp tramp? It didn’t seem that dangerous. My vamp didn’t seem to want to take over my whole life and ruin it, but he did seem to just be using me to satiate his lusts for both blood and sex.
And there was also the fact that this relationship could go absolutely nowhere. That just wasn’t like me. I preferred commitment. I didn’t go for jerks just cause they were hot… So what the hell was I doing?
Finally, I decided something had to be done. Maybe if I held him at bay long enough one night so we could actually talk, then I could convince him to leave me alone.
Yeah, right, an evil little voice whispered in the back of my head.
I ground my teeth and fixed my will. I would do this. I’d break this off…somehow.
I stayed up late, waiting. It was another Friday—a night he usually always stopped by. Though I couldn’t pin down why, it was much more nerve-wracking sitting at my little table near the kitchenette waiting to talk to my vamp than it was waiting in the bed for him to fuck me. Life just didn’t make sense anymore.
Around two in the morning, I saw his shadow and heard the familiar shhuuck of the sliding door as it closed behind him. I’d left every light on and I felt my breath hitch as I was caught by the beauty of his face—I hadn’t seen him in bright lighting since the first night I’d taken him home.
I opened my mouth to tell him ‘This can’t go on’, and somehow found myself in his arms, his lips swallowing my words.
We didn’t even make it to the bed. He took me up against the wall, every light blazing, as if highlighting my shame. When I came, my legs gave out and he had to hold me up. Then it was over, and he was slipping his shirt back over his sculpted body.
“You don’t always have to leave, you know. You could stay,” I found myself saying. It wasn’t what I’d meant to say at all, and my voice sounded like a sulky schoolgirl’s.
“I didn’t think that’s what you wanted,” came the low rumble of his voice.
“What are you talking about?” I asked defensively. “You’re the one that just swoops in here whenever you feel like it and then leaves once you’ve gotten what you wanted!”
His handsome face crinkled into a frown that managed to make him look pouty and cute rather than dangerous.
“You have never invited me to stay.”
I had to roll my eyes. Apparently being invited in was a bigger issue than I thought. It must be a vamp-culture thing. I didn’t get it.
“Well, I’m telling you now that you can stay, or even come at a normal hour—you don’t have to just come around to fuck and feed!”
I knew my voice was sharp, but I couldn’t believe this guy had managed to turn the tables on me and make me feel bad for him. He stood there for a moment, glaring, then grabbed his jacket and left without a word.
For days after I tried to remind myself that I was the victim in this scenario. I mean, vamps were, wells, vamps! Blood-thirsty, self-serving, scum-of-the-urban-jungle types. Everyone knew it… didn’t they?
I frowned, trying to think of everyone I knew and if they had ever actually met a vamp themselves. Then I sighed. Of course they hadn’t! They were all respectable types. But I had to admit that, other than my vamp, the only knowledge of vampires I had was all hearsay. Could I have been mislead?
The vamp showed up a fortnight later, earlier in the evening this time, and at my front door. I blinked at him when I opened it.
“You said I could come,” he said snappishly when I stood there dumbly.
“Uh, yeah. Just surprised you used the door,” I said, stepping aside to let him in. “I thought all you vamps liked to make dramatic entrances through windows and stuff.” I chuckled weakly, trying to lighten the mood because he did usually come in through my balcony—and seeing him at my doorstep like a normal person was…weird.
But he just shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d want your neighbors knowing a vamp was visiting you.”
Well, shit. Now I felt like an asshole. Had he actually been trying to be considerate of me? I looked at his back as he wandered into the kitchen area and thought how odd it was to feel compassion for the guy who’d been using me as his personal fuck-toy and blood bank for the past month—but maybe I’d been misinterpreting everything from the beginning.
Still not sure of how to deal with this potential revelation, I shut the door and followed him inside.
“Did you want anything to… eat? Drink?” I asked lamely. Did vamps ingest anything except blood? And how weird was it that there was always so much gossip about vamps, but no one knew these simple, little things about them?
“Got any hot chocolate?”
My mouth opened then shut it. Hot friggin’ chocolate? Was he serious or just fucking with me? Was he going to ask me next if we could watch some Little House on the Prairie and snuggle?
“Umm, I think I might have some… somewhere,” I muttered as I opened my cabinets and began searching. “Here’s a can. It’s not fresh, but…” It was peppermint flavored, too. Something I’d gotten as a Christmas gift heavens knew when.
“It’s ok if it’s old. Just stir a little of your blood in it for me for flavor.”
I dropped the canister and swung my head around to find him smirking.
“Oh…” I said, giving a weak chuckle. He could joke. Who knew?
“I’m not sure where my kettle’s at,” I said after a moment of searching. “The only thing I ever drink hot is coffee.”
“It’s ok, you don’t really have to make it.”
There was a distinctive strain of disappointment beneath his words.
“Well, would you like anything else, umm…?”
I blinked. “Huh?”
He wanted ‘Vince’? Did he want me to bring him a victim or something? Horrified, I tried to remember if any of my neighbors were named Vince.
“My name,” he clarified tersely when he saw the look on my face. He rubbed his face and gave a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe you’d let a guy into your bed for an entire month and not even ask his damn name.”
My jaw dropped. I-it wasn’t like that at all! I mean…
“You don’t know my name either!” I protested, feeling I’d scored a point.
“David. I asked you at the club before we even left. I guess you were too drunk to remember.”
I didn’t, and probably had been. Crap. Vamp, +1.
“Look,” Vince said, “you don’t have to do this.”
“Pretend you want to be friends or something. You’ve treated me ok so far. Sure, you didn’t want to know me and didn’t want me hanging around, but you didn’t call the cops and you didn’t try to blackmail me or anything. So, I’d be ok just keeping things as they are if you want.”
I was lost. “What are you talking about? Why would I blackmail you? How would I blackmail you?” If anyone was holding all the cards, it was him.
Vince looked back at me like I’d just stepped off the short bus chewing on my notebook instead of a sandwich.
“Are you really that clueless?”
“Yes!” I snapped. “I’m really that fucking clueless! I don’t understand what’s going on here! You’re acting like I’m the bad guy!”
His eyes darkened a shade and I gulped. He might not have superhuman powers, but his eyes looked like they could fry me to a crisp in two seconds flat if he wanted to.
“No, I’m the bad guy, right? I’m the cold, calculating, drain-scum vamp, huh?”
I bit my tongue against the instinctive ‘yeah’ that wanted to pop out. It was how vamps were always described.
“Let me fill you in,” he went on, “almost every human I’ve been with has wanted something from me—a thrill, a pet, whatever. They’ve never wanted me. I’m just a vamp, and that’s all they ever see. And the politicians and the media just love to paint us in a poor light, like we’re preying on defenseless little humans. But humans don’t need blood. They can get their own food, they can buy it, they don’t have to wait for someone to give it up to them, or worry that when they do they’ll misinterpret things and sick the police on their asses. And humans never trust you, never want to be friends, because they think you’re only after one thing.” He sighed and my heart clenched at the melancholy in his voice. “And sometimes they’re right. It’s tough. I don’t want to think about blood all the time, but I have to in order to survive. And I never know when I’ll be able to eat—except for lately, because you’ve been around, and you’ve let me. That doesn’t happen often, and usually when it does, the person wants something from me. They know they have the upper hand, and power does that to people.” He glanced at me, gauging my reaction.
I was dumbfounded.
I tried to look back on our time together with a new perspective—from Vince’s perspective. He’d approached me, brought me home when I was drunk, waited for me to invite him in and then I hadn’t said two words to him afterward. I’d never asked him about himself, never asked him to stay. I’d basically treated him as coldly as I’d thought he was treating me. Only he wasn’t. He was just being his weird vamp self, waiting for me to ‘invite’ him, ask his name, say anything to him beyond ‘fuck, yeah!’
Wow. I was actually the asshole here. I’d believed everything I’d heard about vamps and never thought to question it.
I sat down at one of the chairs near my small kitchen table, feeling suddenly drained and defeated.
“You ok?” Vince asked.
His concern only made me feel even more guilty.
“Do you think,” I began, “that we can start over or something? I really don’t know where to go from here.”
It was Vince’s turn to look surprised. “I… yeah. You still want to get to know me?”
I shrugged. “I do, but…”
Damn, how was I going to explain dating a vamp to my friends?
“…this isn’t going to be easy,” I finished.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to get involved.”
Geez, he looked like a puppy that I’d just kicked. How could a guy who was so broody and sexy look that way?
“I didn’t say that!” I took a breath and plunged ahead. “I’m not sure how this will work, but I want to give it a shot.”
For the first time since I’d met him, Vince smiled, fangs and all, and I realized I wanted to see that smile a whole lot more often.
“Ok,” he said simply, leaning over to kiss me.