“I see. You know it isn’t safe for a girl like you to be living downtown in her car,” he admonished.
“I know, but so far, it hasn’t been too bad.” I covered my mouth, trying to hide my yawn. It seemed my adrenaline rush was finally fading, leaving me exhausted.
“Come, you’re tired. Let’s get you to bed.” He stood and held his hand out to me.
His words kickstarted my heart back into overdrive. He wanted to go to bed.
Oh, my.
A part of me was frantic for that to happen. The other part was incredibly anxious about what would happen. I was scared. I had a very low pain tolerance, part of the reason I’d avoided taking the plunge so far. Whenever a friend talked about losing her virginity, I never could get past the pain and discomfort they all mentioned.
He arched a brow at me, no doubt hearing my increased heart rate. I needed to stall.
“Shouldn’t we talk about our plans for tomorrow or rather, later today?”
“We could just talk about it tomorrow after we’ve rested.”
“I’d rather know what to expect. It’ll help me relax.” Please.
“Very well. Tomorrow, I figured I’d let you start getting to know me as a songwriter. That way you can help figure out the best angles to use for marketing.”
“OK.”
“Now, come before you fall asleep at the table.” He shook his empty hand in my direction.
I placed my hand in his. Though our hands had been linked several times tonight, the touch still sent shivers all over my body and butterflies fluttering in my belly. My hand fit perfectly inside his. His long musician fingers wrapped around mine as if my hand was created to fit inside a mold of his. Once I was standing in front of him, he stooped down and looped my shoes through his free fingers.
♪ Just One Look by Doris Troy
When we entered the front room, I halted my steps and looked around. Alternating black and white squares made up the floor of the large open space. It gleamed beneath the sparkling chandelier suspended overhead.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a checkerboard floor in a house before,” I observed.
“I had it installed when I moved in to remind myself that I’m but a pawn in an intricate game of chess, trying to outrun the queen who seeks to destroy,” he murmured and tugged on my hand to get me moving again.
As I followed slightly behind him, excitement began to build inside me. While we climbed the stairs, the anticipation started to outweigh the fear.
When we reached the top of the stairs, he ushered me to the last door on the left. He placed his hand on the doorknob.
This was it. Finally, I’d know what all the books and articles talked about. I’d understand what my friends mentioned once they got beyond the pain.
“This is your room,” he said as the door swung open on quiet hinges.
“M-my room?” I asked in confusion.
“Is that a problem?”
“I get my own room? I thought . . .. Well, it’s just that I thought . . .. Never mind.” I ducked my head in humiliation.
“You thought you’d have to share a room with me?”
I nodded.
“I suppose that’s what all the other B.I.T.-10 girls do when their contracts involve overnight stays. I just thought you might want your own space. Knowing that you haven’t had a room to call your own for months only reinforces that idea for me. Do you not like your room?” he asked, knowing I hadn’t looked at it yet.
I cast my eyes over the large, antique canopy bed. A chest sat at the foot of the bed with my suitcase on it. An old-fashioned wardrobe with mirrored doors was on the wall by the door, and a matching dresser and vanity were on the adjacent wall. All my belongings from my car were stacked neatly along the far wall. A tear caused my sight to go blurry for a second.
“That door leads to a walk-in closet, and the other door leads to your bathroom. Is this OK?”
“It’s more than OK, it’s perfect. Thank you for being so thoughtful.” I threw my arms around him in an impulsive hug.
He closed his arms around me and inhaled deeply. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“I’m glad you like it. I’ll let you get some sleep. If you need anything, my room is across the hall. Just call me, I’ll hear you.”
“’kay. Goodnight, Toven,” I whispered.
“Goodnight, my shining star.”
He walked out and closed the door softly behind him. I went over to my stack of belongings and grabbed my toiletries bag. My clothes bag was buried underneath the pile of boxes. I didn’t have the energy to dig for my old, comfy jammies tonight. Perhaps, Jacque packed something to sleep in? I unzipped the expensive suitcase. Immediately, I saw my fluffy robe. I pulled it out and laid it on the foot of the bed. Then I dug through the shirts, jeans and skirts I’d already seen briefly on Jacque’s worktable. In the zippered compartment on the lid, I found several thongs in various colors and fabrics—cotton, silk, leather and lace. There were matching bras for each pair, a couple of corset-type tops and finally a few pieces of sexy lingerie. The lingerie was made of the most expensive type of fabrics, meant to feel luxurious against the skin. They were see-through and probably not really designed for sleeping. But tonight, I was too tired to care. I grabbed a silky black scrap of fabric and a sheer cover-up that seemed to go with it. The matching underwear were attached.
Carrying my robe and toiletries, I went into the bathroom and began pulling the pins from my hair, shaking the tendrils loose as I went. I moaned as my scalp relaxed. Once all the locks were free, I grabbed my brush and combed out my hair. Then I grabbed a washcloth and washed off the minimal makeup I wore. Spinning, I turned on the shower to let the water warm up. I had to wash the residual hairspray out tonight or my hair would be unmanageable in the morning.
I stepped out of the bathroom to the huge closet. Methodically, I grabbed an empty hanger for my beautiful dress. With sure fingers, I unfastened the button at the nape of my neck. The straps of the halter rested on each shoulder. I reached my arms behind me for the zipper, but I couldn’t quite grab it. I contorted my arms, trying to reach the elusive metal tab. Finally, I trapped it between two fingers on the same hand. I gave a little tug downward. The zipper moved only a couple of millimeters before getting hung. I yanked harder. The more I jerked, the more resistance I felt from the zipper.
OK. Maybe I could slip it down over my hips.
I grabbed a handful of fabric on each hip and tugged downward, but it didn’t budge at all. Then I tried to pull it over my head. I got it partially lifted up around my torso, but once the slim back of the dress got around my bustline, it wouldn’t move. My arms were trapped above my head, and I couldn’t grip the fabric to shimmy it back down.
“Crap.”
How was I going to get myself out of the most gorgeous thing to ever touch my skin without a pair of scissors? Jacque would kill me if I damaged this dress.
Before I could devise a new plan, there was a soft knock on the door. I froze. My ears strained for sound in the hallway.
“Celesta, it’s me. Is everything OK?” Toven called out.
I laughed. “Just a little wardrobe malfunction.”
“What?” he asked in a confused voice.
“Come in. I feel ridiculous speaking to you through a closed door.”
The door swished open then shut quietly.
“Where are you, Celesta?” he called out, obviously looking for me.
I retreated farther into the closet, too embarrassed to let him see me.
“I’m in the closet. Trying to get out of my dress.” His feet shuffled toward the closet. “Stay where you are. You can’t see me like this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m stuck in my dress, and if you see, you’ll laugh at me.” I pouted.
“Maybe I can help. Come out.” He sounded so reasonable.
I was going to need help getting unstuck. I’d just have to suck it up.
Humili
ated, I walked to the closet doorway. He was standing in the middle of the room. The sight of him made my mouth go dry. He’d removed his suit jacket. The lengths of his tie trailed down the sides of his torso, perfectly framing the opening made by his unbuttoned dress shirt. The parted white fabric revealed an expanse of smooth, tan skin, covered with a smattering of dark hair. Muscles rippled as he strode toward me.
He was fighting a smile and biting his lip to keep from chuckling.
“I heard your frustrated mutterings and thought you might need something. Do you need some assistance?” his voice had an upbeat lilt to it.
“My zipper got stuck. I thought I could get it, but then it grabbed the edge of the fabric, and now it won’t move up or down. So, I tried to slip the dress over my head, but it got stuck. I don’t want to rip the dress. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever worn.” I made myself shut up because I was rambling. I tended to do that when I got nervous or excited, though I wasn’t sure which I was at the moment. Maybe both.
“Let me see.”
I hobbled over to where he stood before I turned and presented my back to him. He grabbed the zipper. I stood statuesque as he wiggled the metal, trying to free the fabric from the tiny teeth. His fingers brushed my skin, which promptly broke out in goosebumps. His warm breath feathered the shell of my ear as he worked on the zipper. My body heated under his breath. He was creating warring sensations within me without even realizing it. I watched him in the mirrored doors of the wardrobe.
Finally, the fabric gave as he freed it. He tugged the zipper down slowly and gently to prevent any further hang-ups. Once the fabric was free to fall open, the dress dropped, baring me down to my waist. He stepped backward.
I thought having him see me with my arms trapped over my head was humiliating. Meeting his eyes in the mirror as he drank in the sight of my naked flesh was disconcerting. My bare breasts were exposed to Toven’s hungry stare. He drew in a noisy breath, which was odd because normally he did everything with barely making a sound. So to hear his breath was unnatural. He licked his lips as his eyes roved over my creamy skin. He seemed to be memorizing every inch of my naked breasts, from the sloping swell to the soft underside to my dark, rose-colored areola and my puckered peaks. My nipples hardened further beneath the heat of his gaze.
♪ Take My Breath Away by Berlin
I turned then moved toward him an inch at a time, my movement barely perceptible. Or maybe he moved toward me? Either way, soon there was only a fraction of air separating us. We stared at each other. Our breathing synchronized. Exhaling deep breaths simultaneously caused my nipples to graze his pectoral muscles. The sensation caused us both to moan quietly. But neither of us progressed things.
We stood there frozen in time for a moment, for an hour, I had no idea. But we both seemed too afraid to move. I didn’t want to shatter whatever spell we were under. I wasn’t sure why he didn’t move. I wanted things I didn’t know how to ask for—I had no words to voice them. But for some reason, I felt if I moved, I certainly wouldn’t be getting what I wanted.
After a time, he seemed to come out of his trance. He tore his gaze from me and looked over my shoulder. I looked in the same direction and saw steam billowing from the bathroom.
He moved back. My body cried out in silent protest at the distance he was putting between us.
“I’ll leave you to your shower,” he said in a low voice.
“Toven.” I didn’t know why I called his name. I just wanted to stop him from going, maybe beg him to stay.
He reached a hand out to brush my cheek.
Smiling sadly at me, he said, “Shh . . . go enjoy your shower. Then sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
I didn’t even try to respond as he turned on his heel and quickly walked out. His pace caused his open shirt tails to flap in his wake.
I stood there a moment longer, staring at the closed door. My body wanted to call him back, to beg him to touch me, kiss me, take me.
I dipped my fingers into the edge of the fabric gathered at my waist and with a gentle push, sent it fluttering to my feet. After hanging the dress up in the closet, I walked into the steam-filled bathroom to wash my hair and attempt to relieve the ache Toven had awakened. I knew if I didn’t find release, I’d never be able to sleep.
9
Toven
♪ Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Suede
Silently, I paced the hallway outside her room, arguing with myself. Every inch of me wanted to go back in there and take her into my arms. I wanted to hold her close, caress every part of her. I wanted to kiss and taste every inch of her skin. I wanted to give her pleasure, the likes of which she’d never even dreamed of. I wanted to . . . love her.
What? Where had that thought come from? What the hell did I know about love?
Love was an emotion of the heart. As a vampire, I had a barely functioning heart. It beat just enough to circulate my blood and the poison which made me a monster. It served no other purpose. It felt nothing. I was a glorified animal who could think but could do little more than behave instinctually when pushed.
The beast snapped in agreement. He wanted her too. I understood his desires and needs. I understood my own to a point. She was smart and beautiful and so enticing. But the thoughts and . . . feelings she elicited frightened me.
I couldn’t go back in there and do any of the things I wanted. She was a treasure who deserved so much more than me. Though her eyes had been full of desire, I knew that was just a side effect of being in my proximity. My kind had the allure to make humans desire and want. It lowered their inhibitions, so we could take freely and at our leisure. And take I would, if I let myself go. I’d take everything she offered and then some. I’d break her, hurt her . . . and that would break me.
Finally, I heard the door to the shower slide open then the interruption in the cascade of water as her body intercepted the droplets. What I wouldn’t give to be one of those droplets trailing down her soft skin. Even better, what I wouldn’t give to lick those droplets off her soft skin.
I pictured stepping under the steamy spray with her and soaping up my hands. I saw myself washing her hair, massaging the lather into her scalp. Then I imagined myself trailing soapy hands all over her skin, rubbing suds down her arms, over her back, down her torso, paying special attention to her breasts. I’d maneuver her under the spray to wash the bubbles from her upper body, then I’d bend and capture one of her pebbled peaks with my mouth, causing her to whimper with need. As I laved it with my tongue, my sudsy fingers would trail lower, and she’d moan with pleasure. The sound she released from her throat would make my cock ache more than it ever had before.
Wait a minute . . ..
I frowned and strained my ears. Over the thrumming of the shower, I could make out little whimpers then a breathy moan. My fantasy was replaced with the image of watching her through the steamed-up glass as she pleasured herself. I’d be a silent observer until she was trembling with need, then I’d step in and take her into my arms. My cock strained against the zipper of my dress pants. If it didn’t get released soon, I was pretty sure it was going to free itself from the zippered prison.
With hurried steps, I strode across the hallway to my open door. I stalked inside, picked up my phone from the bedside table and pulled up the number to the service I used last night. Within thirty minutes I could have a girl meet me at my downtown apartment, then I could relieve this maddening ache. I could let the beast off the chain for a bit. My finger hovered over the send button.
A louder moan of pleasure followed by a sigh of release filled my ears. The water continued to fall. I could hear the changes in its impact as her body shifted around under the spray. My finger hit send.
“Mr. Adams, how are you tonight? How can we serve you?” the business-like voice greeted me.
“I need . . . I need someone to meet me at—”
I halted as a new whimper of pleasure drifted from Celesta’s room. Oh my, she wasn’t done.
“Mr. Adams, are you still there? Where do you need me to send a girl?”
“Never mind. I don’t need you to send anyone.” I pressed the end button and tossed my phone back onto the table. I wouldn’t get there in time. The throbbing ache wouldn’t wait.
I marched toward my en-suite bathroom, ripping my pants off and shrugging out of my shirt as I went.
With a sharp twist, I turned on my shower. Even with the sound of two waterfalls, my sensitive ears could still make out her tiny whimpers. She’d probably be embarrassed to know I could hear her.
I stepped under the spray and soaped up my hands. In my mind, her hands were drifting over my body with featherlight touches, and my hands were moving over hers in a teasing caress. I closed my eyes as I listened to the slight changes in the water falling across the hall. The sound of wet skin sliding over wet skin filled my ears. I could visualize where her hands were. The whimpers and moans let me know what area her fingers were brushing. I stroked myself faster as she picked up her own pace.
My low growls mirrored her moans. The pleasure coursing through me as I pictured her was beyond what I would’ve found with any girl from the service. Only a few things would increase my pleasure, and every single one of them involved her—and us being in the same room.
I was rapidly approaching release, and from the sound of her pants and moans, so was she. With the sound of frantic touching coming from both showers, we climaxed simultaneously—together, yet separate.
I leaned against the tile of the shower as she shut off the water in her bathroom. I continued to listen as she moved around—envisioning her drying off, putting on that scrap of black fabric that had been laying on the foot of her bed, climbing onto the mattress, nestling under the covers. My cock was aching again. I replayed the sounds of her shower in my mind as I raced toward another satisfying release. Once I found it, I stepped out, dried off and slipped naked under my covers. I lay, willing sleep to pull me under so I could escape my reality for a little while.
Blood Song: Prelude (Blood Song Series Book 1) Page 13
