My Vampire Lover (4 page)

"Fuck me, fuck me!"
Oh yes, this was the greatest sex I had ever had in my life.

It was if we floated, wrapped in each other's arms, high above the clouds. All earthly things fell away. We were no longer in my bedroom. We soared, flying, cosmically joined, one body, one soul.

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My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie

I opened my eyes and he raised his head, planting his beautiful lips on mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth and causing me to explode inside him with an electrifying jolt that tore a choking cry from my throat. He clung to me as his own orgasm spewed from his cock, flooding his torso with great white streams of semen. I collapsed on top of him, murmuring God knows what inanities. I think I even told him I loved him, and I meant it. I really did mean it.

We lay there, locked together, my cock still deep inside him, for a long time. I didn't want to let him go, and he seemed content to stay right there. When I found I still had a voice, I said, "That was incredible." I wished there had been other words for it—incredible just didn't seem enough.

"You are a wonderful man, Ron," he whispered, running his fingers over my stomach.
"You're pretty wonderful yourself," I said, kissing his cheek. "Would you like to stay over?"
"I would love to, but unfortunately, I cannot. I have an early appointment."
"Oh..." I tried to hide my disappointment, but couldn't.
"How about lunch tomorrow then?"
"Again, I am sorry—"
"Another appointment?"
He nodded.
"You sure are one busy dude," I said, not without some bitterness.
"You're upset."
I didn't answer right away, and I heard him sigh, his breath warm on my chest.
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"Sorry," I said. "I have no right to make demands on your time. We've just met, but I feel kinda connected, you know?"
"I feel that too, Ron." He lifted his head and looked at me, and I felt my heart turn over. "There are some ...
difficulties
in knowing me well." "What d'you mean?"
"My time for occasions such as this is limited to night time.
I cannot go out in the daytime. I have an aversion to strong sunlight."

I looked at his pale creamy skin and nodded my understanding. "Yeah, I can see it would burn you badly. But there are some really good sun blocks on the market for that kind of thing."

"They do not work for me, I'm afraid. My condition is ...
hereditary, you see."

"Oh, I'm sorry ... but if you can't come out during the day, I could come see you at your place, maybe ... I work nearly every night, and have most of my day free." I knew I was being pushy, but I wanted him to know I was sincere in wanting him in my life.

 

He looked at me with his unwavering gaze, and I wondered what was going on behind those beautiful eyes.

 

Was he desperately trying to find a way to dump me without me pitching a fit, or was he merely looking for any excuse to not see me again? Had I become way too needy?

I grasped his hand in mine and pulled him closer to me.
His face rested in the hollow of my throat, his lips brushing the stubble under my skin. Once again, I had this strange sensation of wanting something more. The touch of his lips 34

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had raised the short hairs on the back of my neck, and I shivered involuntarily.
"What is it?" he asked, putting his arm around me. "Are you cold?"

"No, no. You just set me tingling." I kissed his lips, and he parted them, gently biting the tip of my tongue. "Mmm," I murmured, holding him tight. "I wish you could stay all night."

 

He smiled into my eyes. "Not all night but we have time to make love again, if you wish."

 

I didn't waste any more time on talking. Every moment had suddenly become very precious.

 

* * * *

 

As I paced the floors of my apartment after, I must admit, reluctantly leaving Ron's bed, I wondered about the wisdom of my increasing attraction towards him. Taking a mortal lover has its disadvantages, not to mention its dangers, but there is an allure that is hard to completely ignore.

Someone like Ron, so eagerly attentive, so willing to see the good in everything and everyone, was like a breath of fresh air in my too long existence. I wished my friend Marcus was here to guide me in this. He had recently taken a young mortal lover whom I had not yet met, but he seemed very happy with the relationship.

Marcus...
I smiled, as the memories of our long and sincere friendship flooded my mind. I owed my life and my sanity to
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him, and I wished him all the happiness this young mortal could bring him.

My thoughts returned to Ron and to that moment when he had almost willed me to cross the line I had drawn between us. That line, if breached, would change his life and his destiny. Forever.

And, oh, the incredible willpower I'd had to pull on to resist the temptation to break his skin with my teeth and taste the sweetness of his blood. The growl that rose in my throat at the thought of it, chilled even my own blood. From my balcony, I stared out into the dark night, my eyes searching for the one who would satisfy my craving for the blood that would sustain me for yet one more day.

A wave of loneliness crashed in upon me, and I yearned to be back in Ron's apartment, to feel the warmth of his skin under my hands and the touch of his lips upon mine. Sighing, I walked back into the living room and pulled closed the drapes, trying to shut out the lure of the darkness. But the call of the blood cannot ever be disregarded. It is what makes us different from mortal men and women. This need drives us and calls to us in the stillness of the night, sending us out to wander among our prey.

He was young and pretty, in the way so many young men in West Hollywood are pretty. Blond, blue-eyed, toned muscles rippling under his tight white T-shirt. A little tipsiness was in the small smile he gave me as I approached him.

"Hi there. You're kinda cute..." His voice was slurred.
"And you are very beautiful," I replied, and that was all it took. He was in my arms in the dark doorway, his lips on
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mine, his breath smelling of whatever sweet drink he'd been imbibing. His body stiffened for a moment as my fangs pierced the skin over his jugular vein, then he pressed himself to me as I drank, his arms holding me to him while he whispered in my ear howwonderful this felt. I left him standing alone in the dark doorway, his mind vaguely retaining the memory of something wonderful, of sensations he had never before experienced. He couldn't wait to tell his friends all about it—if only he could remember exactly what it was.

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37
My Vampire Lover

by J. P. Bowie
Chapter Three

Next morning, Ted had a hundred or so things for us to do—
together.
"Oh guys," I whined. "You don't need me trailing around after you. Besides, I have to be at work at five."

"But we need you to drive us around," Ted said, eyebrows arched. There's no point in arguing with him when his eyebrows are shaped like humpback bridges. "We'll be back after lunch, in plenty of time for you to get ready for work—
if we leave right after you finish your coffee."
"So how'd it go last night with Jean-Claude?" Jonas asked, winking at me over his cup.

 

"Jonas, will you please quit the dirty winking stuff. If you're wondering whether we had sex or not, the answer is yes, we did. Full out, mind-blowing sex—several times!"

"We know," Ted smirked. "We heard. Thank God, I fell asleep when you started in on the third go around."
I glared at him, my face glowing. "Well, if you knew, why ask? Just to embarrass me?"

"Ron, take it easy," Jonas said, giving me his, 'I'm your big brother, so listen to me' look. "We're very happy you've found someone as cute and as pleasant as Jean-Claude."

"He's very pale," Ted remarked. "He's not sick is he?"
"No, he's not sick." I rose and put my coffee mug in the sink. "He has a skin condition ... hereditary, he says ... can't take the sunlight." 38
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"Oh yeah, I've heard about that," Ted said. "Isn't that alopecia or something?"
"No, that's when you lose all you hair overnight," Jonas corrected him.
"Ugh ... imagine that. But there is a word for the skin thing—"
"Anyway," I interrupted their diagnoses. "He has to be very careful when he goes out in the daylight."
"He's not a vampire, is he?" Jonas chortled.

"Oh!" Ted screamed, making me jump and setting my nerves on edge. "He just might be—that pale face, dark hair, those sexy, hypnotic eyes, the fact he couldn't eat dinner—"

"He told you he'd had dinner," I yelled, thoroughly pissed off with them.
"Yes, he said he'd eaten." Ted narrowed his eyes at me.
"Perhaps he meant he had
fed
."
"Oh, for Pete's sake," I muttered.
"Ron, where is your sense of humour?" Jonas asked, looking at me sternly. "Ted's just joshing, aren't you Ted?"

"Of course," Ted said, punching my arm. "Besides, he couldn't be a vampire—he had a glass of wine—and as we all know from watching those old movies, vampires never drink

...
wine
."
The morning was a nightmare, or daymare, or whatever.

Ted had to visit every single store in the Beverly Centre. I hate shopping and limit it, if possible, to birthdays and Christmas. I slouched around while Ted and Jonas picked up just about every single garment they laid their eyes on, oohed and aahed, then put them back. Jeez!

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At lunch, Ted gave me their schedule for the rest of the day.
"Of course, we'll be exhausted after all this shopping, so we'll probably nap when we get back to your apartment—

sorry you have to work, Ron. We thought we'd come to the restaurant and have a late dinner, then we can wait for you and go out for a drinkie, when you're through. How does that sound?"

"Great," I muttered, pushing my chair back from the table.
"You all right?" Jonas asked. "Are we wearing you out?"
"No. I was just thinking about Jean-Claude. I was kinda hoping he'd drop by the restaurant tonight..."
"Oh."
"Well, if he does," Ted said, brightly. "We can all four go for a drinkie!"

* * * *
Friday night is gala night at La Fortuna and always a big event. We had reservations for every table the entire evening. I had just managed to squeeze in a nine o'clock for Jonas and Ted when the phone rang.
"La Fortuna, Ron speaking," I sang out. "Can I help you?"
"Ron."
My heart quickened at the sound of his voice. "Jean-Claude."
"May I see you tonight?"
"Of course ... Uh, I'm working till ten, then we have to clean up. My brother and Ted have a nine o'clock reservation.
Would you like to join them?"
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"No, thank you, but, I can drop by after you close, if that is all right with you?"
"Totally all right," I said, happy as a clam.
"Then, I will see you later."
"Looking forward to it." I put the phone down and did a little jig of joy, much to the amusement of the staff who pointed and giggled—bitches.

The phone call had come earlier that night. That same insidious voice carrying the message of threat upon my life. I had escaped his assassins before, but it seemed he would not be content until I was dead. I shuddered at the steps I might be forced to take. To kill was not a part of my creed. My friend and mentor, Marcus, had shown me a gentler way, reminding me that to kill should only ever be used in extreme circumstances—as a last resort.

If I could avoid the killers as I had before, it was all well and good, but a newfactor had been added to my need to be vigilant for any surprise attack—Ron. I could not, with good conscience, involve him in anything that could harm him. This was my battle, brought about by my own actions before I had met him. The proper thing to do was to protect him from these villains—and the only way I could safely do that was to break off our brief, but sweet, association.

After just one more time in his arms...
* * * *
Nine o'clock, on the dot, Jonas and Ted were at the reception desk.
"Heliophobia," Ted said, smugly.
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"He looked it up online," Jonas explained.
"Looked what up?" I asked, not getting it.
"Aversion to sunlight, silly," Ted said. "It's called heliophobia." "I thought anything ending in phobia meant a fear of something," I pointed out.
"Well, you'd be afraid of it too, if it was going to burn your skin, now, wouldn't you?"
"I suppose," I said, picking up two menus and leading them to their table. "Want something to drink?"
"Is Jean-Claude coming?" Jonas asked.
"Not until after closing. I asked him if he'd like to have dinner with you guys, but he said no."

"Ah,
hah
!" Ted exclaimed, narrowing his eyes at me. He does this whenever he feels he has something profound to say. "Refusing another meal. What does that tell you?"

"That he has other plans for dinner?"
"Don't start with that vampire stuff again, Ted," Jonas complained, looking at his menu.
"You started it," Ted reminded him. "Well, anyway, we'll have a bottle of Chianti, thank you, Ron."

For the last hour we were open, I was too busy to visit with them, which didn't seem to bother them at all—every time I looked over, they had their heads together, deep in conversation. How do guys who have been together for close to ten years still find things to say to one another, I wondered, not for the first time. And once again it brought that old feeling of wishing I could have that same kind of relationship. Ted would drive me up the wall, but it was 42

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obvious my brother loved him—and that's all that matters, I guess.

Working on autopilot, I thought about Jean-Claude and our fantastic night together. Not that we had talked that much, we were kind of busy with other stuff, but I felt innately that he could very well have a lot to tell me if I'd give him the chance. There was something mysterious about him. I just couldn't quite figure it out. Those moments when his lips touched my throat—I could still feel that unequivocal shiver of pleasure that coursed through me and the anticipation of ...