Drop Dead Gorgeous (6 page)

He braced himself as she opened her mouth to speak.

“I’m going to need a lot more pillows.”

She smiled and laughed, looking more beautiful than ever, and held out the pillow he’d ripped open.

He smiled back, feeling the pain in his heart, and promised to get her more pillows.

CHAPTER NINE

Clara slept late again after a blissful night with Derek. He’d made love to her, and while it wasn’t exactly the same as making love to him that first weekend in Santa Barbara, it was still amazing. He was still Derek.

She got dressed and ate and made a few half-hearted phone calls to models she’d worked with at Beacon, letting them know she was starting a management company and asking that they put some feelers out. Most models in L.A. didn’t need a manager unless they also acted or were musicians or dancers.

She spent much of the afternoon looking at job listings online, but didn’t see anything of interest. She sorted through the mail that had piled up on her dining table, and paid some bills. When she came to the newspaper with Derek’s picture, she studied it again. He looked so different now. He was obviously still himself, but his lighter skin and eyes made him look almost like another person. Plus there was just something “other” about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She hid the paper in a dresser drawer beneath some old sweaters. Seeing it might upset Derek.

She was back to reading one of her vampire books when she heard the lock click and Derek came in looking as gorgeous as ever in a dark blue sweater and jeans.

“Hi, honey,” she said as she stood to kiss him.

They sat on the sofa together.

“I haven’t gotten you any pillows yet,” he started.

“That’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”
Do vampires shop?

“I don’t have any money. I’ll have to ask for some money.”

She wondered who he would have to ask. She pictured a bunch of vampires – he’d called it a nest. Was one of them the leader and doled out money? She didn’t really want to know. It was hard to think of Derek as a member of a group of vampires. He was hers.

“Don’t worry about it.” She tried to sound reassuring. It wasn’t a big deal.

“So, how was your day?”

“Fine. I made some calls, paid some bills. Nothing exciting.”

“You didn’t go to work?”

“Um…no. I don’t have a job anymore. I got fired.” She realized he didn’t know she’d lost her job.

“When? What happened?”

“Two months ago. Jeffrey fired me.”

“Motherfucker.” Derek’s fangs showed and he suddenly looked very scary.

“It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, you were…you know…gone. Missing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” She wondered where he’d been while she was here worrying and then later, grieving. “You won’t hurt him, will you?”

“Who?”

“Jeffrey.”

“No. No, of course not.”

“Oh, okay. It’s just your...you know…fangs…um…came down.”

“Oh, yeah, they do that. Just ignore it. I try to.”

She nodded and smiled.

“So, are you okay? I mean with money.”

“I get unemployment, but it’s not enough to live on and won’t last forever. I’m going through my savings pretty fast. I don’t know what to do about the Santa Barbara house. I don’t know how long I can pay the upkeep. I don’t want to sell it.”

“Shit. I didn’t think of that. I mean, I didn’t realize you’d lost your job. You’ll need to pay the taxes on it too.” He seemed to be thinking of something before he went on. “I’ll see if I can figure something out.”

“Okay.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I’ve just had my head up my own ass since all this happened. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. I can’t even imagine what you’ve been dealing with. And I love that you left me the house. Honestly, I do.”

“I’ll try to be a better boyfriend.”

Her heart leapt at his words.
He’s my boyfriend.

He gave her a kiss and they settled back into the cushions as he turned the TV on without the remote. They watched part of an old movie snuggled together until she was climbing out of her skin with horniness. He was evidently feeling the same way, pressed into her hip.

She was leaning back on his chest and she turned her head to give him a kiss. His fangs were also erect. As he kissed her, his hand slipped beneath her t-shirt and reached up to caress her breast. She turned a little more so she could touch him over his pants.

Suddenly, he stopped and turned his head away from her.

“This is so fucked up. So unfair to you,” he said.

She sat up and faced him. He glanced at the TV and the volume was muted.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I can’t…do this. I can’t do it right. I’m afraid to kiss you, touch you – I’m afraid I’ll bite. It’s so fucking hard.”

“It’s okay. This is all new to us, sweetie. We’ll work it out. We’ll figure it out together.”

“Yeah, while I get hand jobs and whatever else I need, you don’t get shit. It’s wrong. You should be with someone who gives you orgasms all night long. I can’t do it.”

She took a deep breath. “Oh, is that all? God, don’t worry about that. I never come anyway.”

He looked a little puzzled.

“Well, I mean, I do, but just…you know…not with someone else in the room.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s common for women. I’m not a freak or anything.”

“Of course. I know. I just thought.…”

“It’s not you, sweetie. I love making love with you.”

“I knew you didn’t come that first weekend, but I just figured it was because we were so new. I thought we’d have time to sort it out. I’d learn your body – you know, how to please you.”

“Well, you would have been the first.” She gave a little laugh, but he looked sad.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, and now I can’t seem to do anything right.”

“It’s okay.”

She stood and took him by the hand, leading him into the bedroom. The TV turned off as he passed it.

When they got on the bed, she began undressing him, kissing his cool hard flesh as she revealed it – his chest, his arms, his stomach. He stood and removed his clothing from the waist down. She watched him and his beauty took her breath away.

She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her top and bra. He took a step closer and she kissed his erection and rubbed her face on the velvety skin, inspiring a low soft growl. She stood and removed her jeans and panties, and kissed his neck and chest as she backed towards the bed again, pulling him with her. As she lay back, he climbed on top of her, turning his face into the pillow beside her head as he entered her.

They began to move together and she held him tightly. He sped up a bit and kept his face in the pillow. G
ood thing he doesn’t need to breathe.
She thought he seemed to be getting close and she dropped her hands to press him into her more when suddenly he pulled out, got up, and ran out of the room.

She sat up, breathing heavily, confused as to what had happened. The pillow beside her wasn’t torn. She was certain he hadn’t come.

She got up and went to the bathroom door and knocked softly.

“Are you okay?” she asked through the door.

He opened it and she went in and turned on the light. He just stood and looked at her with big sad eyes.

“Why don’t you just bite me?” she suggested.

He didn’t answer her, but clenched his jaw.

“Just get on with it. Don’t…you know…kill me or anything. But if you have to bite, just do it.”

Before she knew what had hit her, her back was against the wall and he was inside her. It overwhelmed her and she cried out. He pounded into her as she clung to him, wrapping her legs around him and whimpering with each thrust. He kissed her hard and as she sucked on his tongue, he rammed into her over and over, her intense pleasure increasing with each thrust. 

He broke the kiss and she felt the sting of his fangs penetrating her neck. The whole world exploded as she was hit with the most powerful orgasm she’d ever felt. The sharp pain of the bite was the sensation that sent her over the edge.

She moaned as she rode it out. He was sucking her neck, but the pain was gone. She realized he had come at the same time and was pumping into her as she felt her own contractions.

Once they were both still, he licked her neck and pulled back a little. She watched his eyes, glazed over, staring at the fresh wound on her neck. Then he looked into her eyes.

“Oh my god,” she said.

He pulled out and she lowered her legs to the floor, feeling as limp as a rag doll.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he brushed her hair back, still holding her up.

She couldn’t seem to answer, and couldn’t seem to stand on her trembling legs, so he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back into the bedroom.

“The light,” she managed to say as they went down the hall. He glanced over his shoulder and she watched the bathroom go dark. “I love when you do that.”

They stretched out on the bed and she draped herself over his body as he lay on his back.  He was still and dry. She was panting and sweaty.

“Now you have two bite marks,” he said. “Four, actually. Two pairs.”

“I know. Maybe you can bite somewhere else – somewhere that doesn’t show next time.”

He kissed the top of her head and held her closer to him.

“You came, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Oh yeah. That was something. I don’t even know…. It was amazing.”

“Yes, it was.”

“It didn’t hurt like the first time you bit me. I mean, it did hurt, but only briefly and it was a good hurt. Is that kinky?”

“I have no idea. This is all new to me too,” he said.

“Right.”

“All I know is that was the most intense physical pleasure I’ve ever felt – being inside of you and biting you. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before.”

“Then, I guess we both kind of popped our cherries, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess we did, baby. I guess we did.”

Derek gently stroked her back as she felt every muscle in her body relax. Soon, her breathing slowed, and before she knew it, she was fast asleep in the arms of her vampire lover, happy and completely sexually sated for the first time in her life.

CHAPTER TEN

Derek watched Clara sleeping peacefully and tried to imagine what she must have endured in the past few months. Clearly, she did love him and had suffered his death. First she must have been worried out of her mind until the body was found and only then could she grieve properly. That’s when the real pain must have kicked in. And then, on top of all that, her asshole ex-boyfriend had fired her. Derek knew there weren’t that many booking positions – especially runway – in Los Angeles and she must be so worried about finding something else.

Had he lived, he could be helping her now like a decent and normal boyfriend would. He’d had plenty of money. And now he didn’t even have enough to buy her a pillow. And he had no means to provide for her in the future. He knew he needed to come up with some way to earn money for Madeline, and what were the odds she’d let him give some of it to Clara? Less than zero. Terence said Madeline had killed the woman Raymond loved. Derek would have to be very careful to be certain Madeline would never know about Clara. He would die himself before he’d let Madeline harm her.
Die again, I mean.

Dawn called him home, so he left Clara for his nest and died for the day. At dusk, once he’d risen and dressed, he went downstairs to find Terence and Raymond already in the living room in their usual positions.

He stood and studied the progress of Raymond’s painting. Derek loved the pencil sketch Raymond had done from the same photograph. Raymond had exceptional talent. He’d painted Derek’s collar a little narrower so it looked appropriate for a model in the sixties. When it was finished, Madeline would “discover” it and sell it as a lost work from the now-famous Raymond Barrington who’d died tragically in 1969, a penniless artist. Derek hoped he might get to keep the pencil sketch. It was lying on the table beside Raymond’s easel among the pencils and brushes and various tubes of paint.

Derek sat on the sofa and watched Terence reading in his chair. He cleared his throat and Terence looked up.

“Would it be possible for me to get some money?” Derek asked.

Terence looked at Raymond who said, “I think I’ll go help Bradley with that body.”

Derek didn’t even want to know what that was about. He watched Raymond set his palette aside and his brush in an old coffee can with turpentine in it, and walk out into the entry way. The front door opened and closed. Derek turned back to Terence.

“What do you need money for?” Terence asked.

“Clara – the girl…you know.”

Terence nodded. “Go on.”

“She’s having some trouble. She lost her job. I thought I’d be helping her leaving her the house, but now it’s an expense she can’t afford. I feel responsible leaving her with money problems.”

“I understand.”

“You know how much I had – how much Madeline got.”

“It’s for all of us.”

“Yes, I know. But, if I could just have some of it back….”

Terence looked away for a moment. “Let me think about this.”

“Okay.”

“It’s complicated. And a big risk. We could both be punished.”

Derek had no idea what that meant and hoped he’d never find out.

“Well, I don’t want to get you into any kind of trouble.”

“Give me some time to come up with something, okay?”

Derek left the house hopeful that Terence would be able to help him help Clara. As usual, he stopped in the park to feel for Madeline, and this time he felt she was near. Not wanting to take a chance she was following him, he sat on a concrete bench and waited.

She came to stand in front of him.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Just stepped out to get a breath of fresh air,” he said, taking a deep unnecessary breath to punctuate his joke.

She didn’t laugh. “Would you like to go for a hunt?”

“No thanks.”

She sat beside him on the bench and looked out into the dark trees before them.

“You might have been a mistake,” she said.

Derek was surprised to hear that. He didn’t think Madeline would ever admit to one if she had indeed made one.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Have you seen Raymond’s portrait of you?”

“Yeah. He’s really good.”

“So good that he paints the face of a supermodel born many years after his death?”

He hadn’t thought of that. He didn’t respond.

“He claims he’ll alter your face, make you look different. But I don’t like it.” She turned to him and traced a finger along his cheek and across his mouth. “I just wanted a new pretty, and your money. I didn’t think of the fame thing – the jeopardy it could put us in.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m famous really. I’m just a model.
Was
just a model, I mean.”

“Whose face is everywhere. And who still roams the streets.”

“Okay, I get it. I’ll be careful,” he said.

“You do that.”

She stood and walked back towards the house. Derek closed his eyes and waited until he was certain she was staying put before going to Clara’s. He knew he was taking a big risk, letting Clara know what he was, but he loved her and now she gave him a reason to rise every night. He couldn’t stay away.

Clara was washing dishes at the kitchen sink when he came up behind her and kissed her neck. She tilted her head away to give him better access and he licked the four tiny marks on her neck.

“Hi, honey,” she whispered, and he could already smell her arousal.

He pulled her skirt up and slipped his hand inside her panties and she groaned and leaned forward a little, gripping the counter.

She turned her head to him and stuck her tongue out for him. He sucked on it and dipped his finger in and out of her as she moaned. His other hand snaked around her body and caressed her breast over her t-shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and he growled at the discovery.

When her legs separated a little more, he took that as his cue to pull her panties down and toss them aside. She stood on her tiptoes and bent over further, resting her elbows on the counter. He removed himself from his pants and slipped inside her with a groan.
So fucking hot and wet.

He began to move and her head dropped forward as she rocked back into him with each thrust. He pushed her t-shirt up and licked her back, searching for the perfect place to bite. His anxiety about biting had subsided with the knowledge he’d be allowed to, and he was able to focus on Clara’s enjoyment a little more, knowing he’d get what he needed soon enough.

He reached around and touched her, moving his finger in tiny quick strokes. Her breathing sped up and he could feel her heart beating faster. He pumped harder and faster and her moans got a little louder.

They were both close. When she said, “Oh my god,” he knew she was ready and he bit into the warm salty flesh just below her shoulder blade and sucked hard as he exploded and began to fill her.

She cried out and he felt her contractions milking him in the same rhythm as his own. He sucked and swallowed, and felt the heat of her blood filling him as the pleasure spread throughout his body like fire.
Nothing could feel better than this.

When they had both come down from their highs and disengaged, she turned around and kissed him. He held her and whispered, “I love you so much,” into her ear.

He looked into her eyes and she smiled a lazy smile and touched a fang with her finger. “Was that good, baby?”

“You can’t imagine.”

He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom and undressed them both. She lay on her stomach and he took the tube of Neosporin from the night stand and applied it to the now six tiny puncture marks on her body. Then he lay down beside her and began to gently stroke her back, her face turned away from him.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Fine. I read some more about vampires,” she said into the pillow.

“And what did you learn?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Can you see yourself in a mirror?”

“Yes.”

“And can holy water hurt you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“A cross?”

“I don’t think what we are has anything to do with religion, so no, I don’t think so.”

He continued slowly massaging her skin with his fingers and she sighed contentedly.

“Did you know that people used to think vampires were obsessed with arithomania?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, not completely sure what arithomania was.

She went on, “They used to put a pile of sand or a bag of rice in the path of a vampire, hoping to slow him down because he’d be occupied all night with counting the grains of sand or the grains of rice.”

He didn’t respond.

“Isn’t that crazy?”

“Shhhh.”

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Be quiet. I’m counting the hairs on your head.”

She rolled over and swatted him on the arm and he covered her with kisses as she giggled. He settled on kissing her breasts and she held his head to her and sighed.

She had the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen and he thought what a shame it was they’d soon be covered with tiny pairs of fang marks, but he was quite certain he wouldn’t be able to resist biting into them. He stopped kissing and decided to save the biting for their next shared orgasm.

He pulled back and looked at her face, and said, “You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“Well, it does me no good now,” he said with a little laugh. 
Now it just makes me a problem for Madeline.
“I wish I could help you with money. I’m trying to get some for you, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to.”

“It’s okay. I’ll figure something out. I’ve been thinking of trying to manage models. Monica said they’re really hurting for someone to take your place. There’s money to be made there. I just need to find the right models.”

“Shit. I left money on the table. Money that could have helped you.”

He lay back onto the pillow and looked at the ceiling. He needed to find a way to make money – enough to satisfy Madeline and also provide some help to Clara.

Clara sat up and looked at him. He watched her eyes scan his face and his chest. Suddenly, she looked very serious.

“What if there was a way for you to make some of that money?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what if you could still model?”

“I’m dead.”

“I know. But you’re also here. In the flesh. You look basically the same – better in some ways. People would still hire you.”

“But I’m dead. How could I still work? People heard about my death, didn’t they?”

She pushed her hair behind her ears and looked thoughtful for a minute.

“What if you weren’t you? What if I discovered you as some new talent? I could manage you.”

“I don’t know. You mean like give me a new identity?”

“Yeah. You’re a Derek Randall look-alike. We could make up some history for you. Maybe you’re from Europe or something.”

She climbed out of bed and ran into the dining area. He followed her and found her at her laptop. He watched her scroll through some photos until she came to a photo of him – the one she’d taken on the beach the first day they’d met in Santa Barbara. She started fiddling with it, lightening his skin and eyes until it looked more like he did now.

“Shit,” he said. It looked like him, but also different from the Derek Randall the world knew. “I’m a dead ringer for myself.”

She looked up at him and smiled triumphantly. “Do you think this could work?”

“I don’t know.” He wondered if Terence could create a new identity for him. This could satisfy Madeline’s need for income and also provide money for Clara as his manager.

“We’d need to take more pictures. Make a fake portfolio,” she said.

“God, I haven’t needed one for years. Clients just booked me. They knew who I was.”

“Right. Well, then we’ll create a new supermodel who won’t need one either. We just need to build some hype – maybe give you some cheesy supermodel name.”

“Like Adonis or Achilles or something.”

They both laughed.

“Yes, exactly. I like Adonis,” she said.

Her smile was radiant. He loved seeing her hopeful and happy. He kissed her and turned to go get his clothes.

“What are you doing?” She followed him into the bedroom and sat on the bed while he dressed.

“I need to go talk to somebody.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I’m going to need a new name…you know…legally. I think I know who can set it up.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”

He kissed her again and left her looking adorable and naked on the bed. He started home to talk to Terence. If things went the way he hoped they would, he just might be on his way to being a decent boyfriend to Clara – something he feared he’d never be. Maybe there was a chance he could make her happy after all.