Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1) (15 page)

“Don’t listen to him,” Harold said.
“He’s mostly full of hot air and a big dose of shit.”

Roman laughed loudly. “Yeah, both
of which I borrowed off you Dickie-kins!”

Harold growled.

“Is Dickie-kins your surname?”
Ossian asked Harold.

Roman roared with laughter, Kris
and Damon joined him.

Harold was not amused. “They call
me Dickie because my surname is Dickinson,’ he said, voice cold. “Dickie-kins,
it seems, is the new spin.” He sighed.

His obvious resignation had Roman,
Damon and Kris laughing even harder.

“Are they taunting you again,
Harold?” Flo said, swigging a can of lager as she returned.

“They’re just immature children,”
Harold responded.

Faye slid onto Harold’s lap.
“Ignore them.”  She stroked his hair. “They’re just jealous.”

Roman shook his head. “Of what?”

Faye leaned into Harold, pressing
her lips to his and delivering a long, sensuous kiss.  There was more than a
little tongue involved. Beginning to feel like a voyeur, Rose quickly looked
away.  The kiss finally broke and Harold grinned wickedly.

“Behave your bleedin’ selves,” Flo
said. “That stuff’s for behind closed doors.”

“I think what she’s trying to say
is ‘get a room’.” Kris clarified.

 “That’s the one, luv, thanks. I
need to brush up on me lingo.” She stood up “I’m going for a fag.” 

Rose hid her smile.  Flo would blow
an artery if she ever went out clubbing, with all the things that went on in
the dark corners of a club.  She could just imagine her wandering around giving
the lip-lockers clips around the ears and telling them to “get a bleedin’
room!” She was pulled away from her thoughts by the feel of Roman’s arm snaking
its way back over her shoulder.  What was his problem?

She threw his arm off again and he
shot her a wounded look, which she pointedly ignored.

Harold caught her eye. “What did
you two get up to last night, then?” He jerked his head in Thistle’s direction
who stood by the group swaying to the music like an enthralled cobra.

Thistle’s eyes locked with Rose’s,
her sways remaining uninterrupted.

“Drank, danced and had fun,” Rose
replied quickly.

Thistle smiled and closed her eyes,
giving herself up to the music.

“My kind of night,” Roman said.

Flo burst back into the room. “Come
on, everyone!” she ordered, throwing her cigarette packet onto the buffet
table. “I love this song! We need to get some dancing going on. Come on, up you
get! We can’t have Thistle doing it alone.”

“Wanna dance?” Roman stood up and
offered a hand to Rose.

Rose contemplated his hand for a
moment before accepting it and allowing herself to be hauled off the sofa. 
What was the harm in a dance? So he was an arrogant playboy? And yes she found
him attractive, but she had to live with the guy so she needed to get over it
and just be natural around him.

“Show me what you’ve got,” he said.

“You can’t handle what I’ve got.”

The living room was suddenly an
impromptu dance floor.

Raven couldn’t take his eyes off
Ossian.  He was intoxicated by the way he laughed, the way he smiled, the sound
of his voice, everything about the man was driving him crazy. Not once did
Ossian look at him. Had he upset him by the way he acted the other day? And was
this to become a regular thing now, at Flo’s? Would Ossian become part of the
group now?

“Come on, Raven.” Flo beckoned to
him.

It was then that he noticed
Ossian’s eyes on him and heat surged up his body, his breath catching in his
throat. He struggled to read Ossian’s expression and failed. And then Ossian
was dancing with Faye, his attention fully on the fiery woman.

Raven smiled apologetically at Flo.
“I just need some fresh air.” His eyes were drawn back to Ossian and he watched
him spin and step to the beat, his hair swaying hypnotically. He felt
constricted, suffocated– being in the same room as Ossian was like standing too
close to a precipice, the fall from which would be the sweetest bliss. The
butterflies in his stomach surged up, beating against his ribcage. He bit back
a growl of frustration. None of it mattered because he knew that no matter how
he felt, how entranced he was, he couldn’t be with Ossian, even if Ossian were
interested. Ossian was a student, it just wasn’t done. And Ossian certainly
wasn’t interested anyway. He hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge him! He wasn’t
about to stay and be driven crazy. He needed some release. He tore his gaze
away to find Flo staring at him strangely. “I really need some fresh air.”

“Fine,” Flo said. “But you’re mine
when you come back in. Don’t be too long now.”

Raven grabbed his coat and left the
house, shutting out the laughter and music from within.  Ossian’s strange
cologne clung to the inside on his nostrils, making his pulse race.

He quickly made his way down Ellison Street, heading to Hammersmith tube station, which was only two minutes from Flo’s.
He ran down the steps, slapped his Oyster Card on the panel to open the
barrier, and descended the escalator quicker than it could descend itself.

With a nice helping of luck and the
power of wishful thinking, a train arrived within seconds of him reaching the
platform. He took a seat and a deep breath. The doors closed and the train
pulled away.

17.

 THE WALLFLOWER

Supernova was a gay club in Soho
and the stars, planets, galaxies and spectacular satellite pictures of the
amazing colours and explosions caused by a dying star were everywhere, screen
printed and stuck onto the walls. A glittering disco ball spun to add more
stars to the dark club. Strobe lights pulsed, the music throbbed and a fog
machine occasionally released some mist for added effect.

Raven handed in his coat at the cloakroom
and undid some buttons on his shirt. He wasn’t particularly vain, although he
did like to maintain a clean, smart look. However, he knew that undoing his
shirt some way, just to expose the right amount of flesh, would get him what he
wanted. And soon he got just that. He smiled as he approached the bar, aware of
all eyes on him.

“Hello,” a man said loudly. He was
of athletic build, obviously into sport. He held a glass in his hand with a
neon ice cube in it. Raven picked up his scent– he was a warlock. Supernova was
a favourite haunt for a lot of gay supernatural beings as well as humans. The
humans were blissfully unaware that they were using chat up lines on vampires,
werewolves and warlocks. And it would stay that way. Being a supernatural was
not something you ever told a possible human partner, or any human. All that
mattered was having fun, sex and maybe even finding love. That was all both
parties wanted.

Raven smiled, his silver eyes
twinkling. He was glad he’d left the party. He needed out, needed sex.

“Get you a drink?” the sports man
asked.

“No thank you,” Raven said.

“Don’t you drink?”

“Sometimes.”

“So why not now?”

Raven simply smiled enigmatically
and headed away from the bar and onto the dance floor. The sports man was not
the only one to follow him. Raven knew that by merely approaching the bar and
standing there for a moment he would garner attention. He was soon surrounded
by lots of men of all shapes and sizes. He wasn’t going to pick one just yet.
The night was young. And maybe he was in the mood for more than one because
sometimes one wasn’t enough.

He danced really hard to the throbbing
bass. He let it course through him, vibrate in his bones, pump his adrenalin,
desperate to flush out the image of those violet eyes from his brain. But it
couldn’t. No matter how much he focused on dancing with these men, their eyes
on him, their attention solely on him, he couldn’t get Ossian out of his mind.
His plan was failing him. He was supposed to feel better.

Raven grabbed the sports man,
danced up close to him. He could feel the man’s hard on and he growled with
pleasure, getting off on turning someone on.

Another man shimmied up close to
him, sliding a hand down his back. Raven removed his shirt and hands went to
his chest. He continued dancing to the dirty beat, up close to the men, the
heat and thrill pumping more adrenaline and heightening his sexual desire. It
was an orgy of flesh and he was definitely in the mood for a fuck party. That
would really push Ossian out of his head. Yeah, one was fine. But with more men
there was so much more to do.

“I’m going to take you home,” he
said to the sports man, a brown-haired man and a blonde– the one who was
grabbing his buttocks, “and we’re all…” Violet eyes flashed in his mind and he
lost his train of thought.

“We’re all gonna what?” The sports
man asked excitedly.

“We’re…” Those beautiful violet
eyes, that black hair… “ARGH!” he roared out loud, startling the other dancers.
“Sorry, I can’t do this.” He began to extricate himself from the tangle of hot
limbs.

The blonde pushed closer. “But we
were just getting started.”

“Yeah, and you were about to
suggest an orgy,” The sports bloke looked put out.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,”
Raven said. “Where’s my shirt?”

The blonde handed it to him. “Is it
us?”

Raven buttoned up his shirt. “It’s
me.”

“Your loss.” The sports bloke put
an arm around the blonde and another around the man with brown hair. “There’s
still three of us.”

The men grinned and resumed
dancing.

Raven left them to it and went to
sit in one of the free booths that were dotted around the edges of the dance
floor.

No one followed this time. He
cursed himself for that. He could’ve had almost any one of those men he danced
with but now they all danced without him, throwing him occasional looks and
then continuing with their fun. It really pissed him off that he had just blown
his chances of having an amazing all night sex fest. The whole point was to
forget Ossian, but still he was driven crazy, unable to shake him off.

“Raven?”

He looked up to see Brandon standing beside him. “Hello, Brandon.”

“Are you okay?” He hovered
uncertainly, eyeing the seat beside Raven.

“I’m fine, just a little dizzy I
guess.” Raven said.

“I heard your roar.” Brandon said.

Raven quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Is that so?”

Brandon suddenly looked alarmed.
“Sorry, I, uh…it just seemed like you were, uh, frustrated. I just came to see
if you were okay. I’ll leave you alone.”

Brandon turned to leave.

“Wait! Please…join me…if you like.”

Brandon smiled and sat down on the
curved sofa. He took a sip of his drink and placed it onto the black table.

“Do you come here much?” Raven
asked.

“Not really, I’ve been here a few
times but I find it a little intimidating to be honest. It seems that all the
guys have only one thing on their mind.”

And I’m one of them,
Raven
thought. “Aren’t you here for that reason too?”

Brandon pushed his glasses up his
nose nervously before he spoke. “In a way I suppose.” He studied the black top
table.  “I’m looking for validation. No one ever notices me. I’m the perpetual
wallflower.” He hesitated briefly before continuing. “Not like you. I saw you when
you came in. You really turned heads. Well you would. You’re…beautiful.” Brandon gathered up his drink and gulped it down, coughed and shuddered. “That was a
double vodka and orange,” he said breathlessly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

The contrite expression on Brandon’s face was both sweet and funny.  Raven chuckled, moving closer to him. “That was
a little unwise.” He placed a hand on Brandon’s shoulder. Brandon looked up at
him and actually gulped. And for the first time Raven really noticed him– his
warm brown eyes, his wavy brown hair, his gentle smile, the way he nervously
adjusted his glasses every two minutes. He found himself moving a little
closer.

Brandon tensed as Raven closed the
gap between them. Adjusting his glasses again he licked his suddenly dry lips.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t drink anymore. I have a tendency to drink more
than I can handle. It gives me way too much confidence.” He babbled.

“Like at Rainbow Rave.” Raven
captured his gaze and held it.

Brandon stared at him like a rabbit
trapped in the headlights. “Yeah.”

Raven took Brandon’s face in his
hands and pulled him closer.

“I…” was all he could say as he
looked into the face of his greatest desire.

Flashes of Ossian assaulted Raven,
but he fought them off. Ossian didn’t want him. Brandon wanted him. He was
feeling ready again, ready to push Ossian out. Those men had wanted him too,
but Brandon really wanted him in an even bigger way. He wanted to feel wanted,
and Brandon could give him that, more than the sports man or anyone else in the
club. The prospect of feeling better was potent again.

“Don’t be scared,” Raven said
gently.

Brandon had lost the power of
speech.

Raven hesitated. Was this right?
Was he merely using Brandon to get one up on his infatuation? Ossian’s image
appeared again. No, he was giving Brandon what he wanted, and giving himself
what he needed. Brandon was lonely and so was he. They both needed validation,
they both needed to feel good about themselves. And so he pulled the trembling
wallflower to him and tasted his lips. Brandon’s body went like putty and Raven
had to grasp him tightly to prevent him from sliding off the sofa. The kiss
broke.  Brandon trembled in his arms.

“Are you all right?” Raven asked.

“I…”

Raven kissed him deeply again. The
kiss broke for the second time and he took Brandon’s hand. “Come to my place.”

Brandon’s mouth formed a soft ‘oh’
of amazement. “Did…you just…” he trailed off, mesmerized by the depth of
Raven’s eyes.

“Yes.” Raven ran his thumb over Brandon’s bottom lip, feeling it tremble under his touch. “Only if you want to.” Brandon’s chest heaved in and out and for a moment Raven thought he would refuse. But then
he stood up and held out his hand for Raven to take. Raven grasped Brandon’s hot fingers and stood, pulling him close so their bodies were touching. He slid
a hand down and caressed Brandon’s erection. “For me?” He gently licked Brandon’s left ear lobe.

“Uh…” Brandon gasped. “I’m in your
arms.” he whispered.

“All night.” Raven said. He kissed Brandon again. “Let’s get out of here. I really need to make love to you.”