by Jeff Schanz
It was the first time in a long time that any woman was proud of him for something other than his looks. A weird feeling. He wanted to embarrass her and all he did was make her even happier, and more proud to be with him. It almost made him blush.
Brandt was feeling the dulling, heavy effects of multiple whiskeys and was starting to drag. He decided he would like to lie down in the room. Lia was still running on high octane, but she agreed to go with him back to the hotel room for a few minutes.
Back in the room, Brandt sat down on the couch.
“You can go on some more without me,” he slurred. “Every man in the place would love to dance with you. Or do anything with you.”
“Do you think it’s safe?” she asked.
“From bad guys, yeah. From horny men, no way.”
She looked startled. “They would try to kiss me?”
“Sweetie, they would do anything you let them. You have every man on this island wrapped around your finger.”
“Well, I don’t want any of them.”
“Good.” Brandt lay down on the couch and closed his eyes. He placed his hands on his stomach and rolled out a silent burp. “They don’t deserve you.”
Lia swirled her skirt, pretending to dance. “When will you be ready to come with me again? I would like to dance.”
“Seriously, I’m out of it. You really should go without me.”
She slumped on to the couch and tousled his hair. “You are really too tired?” she asked in a playful pout.
“You try dancing like Michael Jackson while drunk and see how much energy you have left.”
She thumped her hand on his chest. “Maybe just a slow dance, then?”
Brandt chuckled. “You’re not giving up are you?”
“No.”
“You can dance with any guy on this island and it has to be me?”
“Yes.” She stood and began to spin and sway around the room. In a casual tone that almost seemed dismissive, she said, “If I’m your Lia, then that means you’re my Brandt. So, you have to dance with me.”
Lia hadn’t forgotten his mental slip up at the dock, and she was even embracing it. Brandt felt warmer than was comfortable. It could’ve been the whiskey, but he thought it was something else. He sat up. “Compromise? We dance right here?”
“Offer accepted,” she said. She held out her arms and smiled.
Brandt walked over ponderously and gathered her in. She put her hands in the proper places, apparently knowledgeable of the technique. He supposed even hundred-year-old women might know how to slow dance.
Brandt looked around and frowned. “Aww, there’s no music.”
She shook her head and started to sway with him. “Then sing something.”
It’s always about me singing with her. But that made him feel warmer. He was almost ready to strip down, he was so hot. Bad idea. Delete thought.
“Sing what?” he asked.
“Anything.” She put her head against his shoulder. They moved across the floor.
He tried to think of good slow songs. Everything escaped him. He thought of Sinatra songs and couldn’t remember words. The feel of her body against him was causing his breath to flutter. He wasn’t ready for this feeling. He wasn’t supposed to have this feeling. They had agreed to be friends.
The only song that came to him was that damned Cheap Trick song he had sung in the club. It came out slow, soft, and low, certainly not the way it was written. But in the end, it wasn’t too bad.
“I want you to want me,” he crooned. “I need you to need me. I’d love you to love me. I’m begging you to beg me.”
Bad thoughts, bad thoughts. He tried to shake them off, but they wouldn’t go away. Then he finally realized why he was so warm. It wasn’t the whiskey. It wasn’t sexual desire. It wasn’t the feel of her body or the memory of her in her bathing suit.
He continued to sing, slow and soft. “I’ll shine up the old brown shoes, put on a brand-new shirt. I’ll get home early from work if you say that you love me.”
All she wanted from him was his voice and his company. To talk to her, sing to her, be with her, and be there for her. Though she thought he was attractive on the outside, what she really wanted was on the inside. She wanted the real Brandt, what was both inside and outside his body. And he in turn… What did he want? Before he even saw her body, what captivated him the most about her was her quirky, unique, charming, endearing personality. Her sweet, innocent nature. And her laugh. And her smile. And her eyes. Pretty much all of her. His Lia.
His body had been on fire, but now that he finally understood why, he felt instantly cooler. Comfortable and content.
She burrowed her face into his shirt. He was briefly worried that she’d get makeup on it, and then he thought, Good. I want makeup on my shirt.
“I have a confession to make,” she said. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about something.”
Uh oh. She didn't pull away but stopped swaying quite so much. “When Father brought you to me, you were injured more than I disclosed. You were actually dying. So I – I gave you…”
Oh, that? Brandt sighed. She was just going to admit what he read in her journal about saving him with her blood. He thought she meant the admission of being in love with him. At first, he was relieved. And then, he wasn’t. Why should he be relieved? He had a confession to make, too.
Lia pulled away, sensing his thought. She gave him a startled look. “You knew?”
Oh, crap. He forgot the mind-reading thing. Brandt had made up his mind that it didn’t matter and stared back. He could tell her anything, now. Everything. He wanted to tell her his epiphany.
“You read my journal?” she asked. Her grip relaxed though she didn’t remove her hands. She wasn’t angry, but the pink on her face was draining. “I can’t believe… Why?”
Brandt reached up and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Lia, it was just an accident. I was looking for information to help you recover after you were hurt on the mountain, I found the book and thought it was a written history of your family. When I saw your journal entries I tried to stop, then I noticed the thing you wrote about the blood you gave me.”
Lia was growing paler. She tried to pull further away. Brandt didn’t let go. She didn’t fight him, but she was going limp. “Did you read – anything else?” she asked guardedly.
“Yes,” he said. “And I know you’re embarrassed. But you don’t have to be. I can make it up to you.”
“How? How can you possibly make me feel less embarrassed than I am right now?”
“By embarrassing myself even more to you right here, right now.”
Her ashen face lifted. She was suddenly more curious than ashamed. But wouldn’t she have already sensed my thoughts by now? Her eyes grew wider as she stared into his eyes. Yep. She’s sensing them. Here goes.
“The moment I saw your incredible eyes staring at me that morning, I was hooked. I couldn’t admit it then that you were already under my skin.”
Lia shook her head. “What are you…?”
“Shh.” Brandt hushed her with a finger to her lips. “Quiet. I’m embarrassing myself. I tried to deny it, dismiss it, excuse it, but I was fooling myself. I am in love with you. There is nowhere I can sail that I can escape it. Miss Natalia Viktorovna Zakharyina, you are the most amazing, wonderful, sweet, beautiful woman I have ever met. And I am absolutely head over heels in love with you. I have no idea how it can work, or what we can do about it, but there it is. You deserve better than me, and you may tell me ‘No’, but I’m yours if you want me. And I absolutely want you.” He sucked in a deep breath and smiled anxiously.
Lia stood stock-still, her eyes as large as saucers, her mouth stuck open.
“See? Now, who’s embarrassed?” he said nervously.
“I – I…” She was still stunned. “We…”
She wasn’t upset, she was just frozen. Finally, she put her head back on hi
s chest again. Good sign. His heart leapt a little.
“We can’t,” said Lia, mouth pressed into his shirt. “You will leave. You will fight your war. And that may take a long time. Time changes people. It changes feelings. You won’t feel the same.”
“Sweetie, every woman I meet will have to live up to you. Every time I see pretty eyes, every time I see a woman smile, I will compare them to you. And they can’t compare. You are an impossible act to follow, Lia. I want you to be my Lia for real.”
“I am your Lia,” she said. “I have been since you gave me my name. And I will remain so. But how could it work? You couldn’t live on my island. There is nothing for you there. You are used to an adventurous life. All that is there are goats and books, silence and solitude. It is a cage, and I am the only one suited to live in it. And I can’t come with you. Even if you could hide me, I can’t leave Father. Would you help me get blood for both of us in secret? And you will grow older, and I will be a reminder every day that we are different beings, – that you live with someone who isn’t human.”
“Lia, listen…”
“No, Brandt. As much as I want it, too – No. I will continue to work on my cure. And if one day I succeed, and you still want me – then I will come willingly, happily to you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t care about that.”
“I do. I want to be with you. But not if it means we have to hide or run from anything. And we will have to run from both your past and mine. Do you understand?”
“I understand that it matters to you.” He sighed and drew her tighter. She let him. “And I was hoping that being with me might be enough to make you happy.”
“It does,” she said, sniffling.
“And if something is important to you, then that’s what I want for you. But, you listen to me, Missy. I’m not accepting a life without you. I’m going to wait for you. So you better get that cure ASAP, because you are all that matters to me.”
“I don’t want you to wait for me.”
“Too bad. I’m gonna. If you’re stupid enough to want me, I’m not letting go of you.”
She smiled briefly and lifted her face. “I promise I’ll work very hard for the cure.”
“You better.”
He risked leaning down and kissing her. She met him. He kissed her deeply, just the lips, and pulled slowly away. As he did, he noticed her eyes were closed and her fangs were creeping out. She suddenly noticed too, blanched a little and pulled back.
“Nope, that’s not an excuse anymore,” he said, and held her tight and planted a sloppy kiss on her again. She giggled. “Your fangs are beautiful. Just – put them away before you go back out, ok?”
She looked anxious. “You still want me to?”
“Of course. You should have as much fun as you possibly can on this rock before you go home. That’s all I wanted for you. Please, have fun until you drop.”
She gave him one more apprehensive look and he smacked her on the butt.
“Go,” he said.
She gave him a peck on the cheek and hit the bathroom briefly. When she came out she had on the colorful leggings and a baggy shirt that hung off her shoulders. She posed near the door. It was close to a potato sack and it didn’t matter. She was the cutest thing he had ever seen. “I would rather you come, too.”
He shook his head. “I’m beat and my pride is wounded. I’m going to try and get some sleep. We have a long trip back tomorrow.”
She nodded. “I won’t be too long.”
“No, be too long. Have the fun of a lifetime. But – if you bring a guy back up to this room, I will kill him. Just sayin’.”
She snickered. “I’m not interested in anyone else.” She gave a coy smile. “I’m your Lia,” and went out the door.
His Lia. Was she? It didn’t feel like it. He stripped down to his boxers and lay down on the couch, snapping a sheet over him, not even bothering to rollout out the fold-away bed. He groaned. She was his Lia, but he couldn’t have her. Love stinks.
CHAPTER 27
Brandt had gotten up twice and stared out the balcony window. Lia had been gone a long time. He wasn’t worried that she would hook up with some other guy, she wasn’t that way, but he was worried that there were some seedy elements in tourist towns, even small island ones, and someone might try to take advantage of her. She was strong, though, and could probably take care of herself. He went back to the couch. For a few more minutes he wrestled with his mind’s grumblings about how he finally found a woman he truly loved and he couldn’t have her. Maybe she’d find her cure. Or maybe there was some other way. Damn his luck. He was just going to have to ignore his feelings until they could work something out. He fell asleep again until his quick-twitch brain alerted him to a subtle noise. He sat up, ready to fight.
“Shh,” said Lia in a soothing whisper. “It’s only me.” She bent down and brushed his forehead with her fingertips.
He nodded and lay back down. “Good. I was worried,” he said groggily.
“I can take care of myself,” she said softly.
“I know. There’s just people in these places who might try to… It doesn’t matter. You’re home. It’s ok.”
“Yes, I’m home,” she said. “I won’t leave anymore.” She stood up and went to the bathroom. He relaxed, turned to face the back of the couch, and tucked the sheet up to his shoulders.
“Good,” he yawned, then closed his eyes. “Hope you had fun.”
Lia was crinkling a bag of something in the bathroom. She bought something else? Whatever. He hoped it was at least something she could use on her island.
She spoke from inside the bathroom. “You were right. Men bought me more drinks. I sensed they wanted me to get drunk, but I can’t. And I didn’t like them.”
“That’s nice,” he said, sleepily.
“I mainly just walked around and thought. I wanted to see the moon from one of the island peaks. I wished you were with me.”
He yawned again, not bothering to open his eyes or turn in her direction. “Me too. Sorry. Long trip tomorrow. Need sleep.”
She turned off the bathroom light. He heard her soft footsteps on the floor.
“I haven’t been honest with myself,” she said, her voice gentle. “And I haven’t been fair to you.”
“Hmm? Sure you have,” he said, his voice muffled by his face being buried in a pillow.
“No, I haven’t. I am truly yours. I want to prove that to you.”
“Hmm?” He was thinking she would just quietly go to bed and let him sleep, but it seemed like she was still hung up on their problem. So was he, but he had already battled his mental anguish while she was gone. He rolled over and rubbed his eyes. Though the lights were dim, he could see her clearly, anyway.
She stood in the middle of the room attempting to match the coquettish pose that the store-window bikini model had been in. Her sheer nightgown barely covered anything and showed everything. She was completely naked underneath. Her hair had been re-brushed and her makeup retouched. She tried to hold the pose but had to adjust her balance. There was not an inch of skin on her that Brandt couldn't see.
“Uh,” stammered Brandt. “This is cruel if it’s a dream. You hear me, God?”
Lia giggled. She flared out the nightgown and slowly turned around just like she had done previously to show off her bathing suit. But Brandt wasn’t looking at her nightgown. He was looking through the nightgown. And he was mesmerized.
“I bought it for you as a gift. They didn’t have a potato sack, but is this ok?” she asked shyly.
“Uh. I – uh.”
She sashayed toward him and stopped just in front of him. She held out her hand to help him stand up. He did. As he did, he noticed that he had an embarrassing issue in his lower region. She seemed to appreciate the compliment. She stared at it just a little too long before she spoke again.
“Is this appropriate to sleep in?” she asked, pressing the gown ag
ainst her body, coyly but nervously.
It was finally sinking into his thick skull. He shook his head. “I don’t think we’ll be sleeping.”
She made a comical pout. “Oh, no. I am overdressed again?” She made a dramatic sigh and then slipped the little spaghetti strap from her left shoulder. And then her right. The nightgown fell to the floor. “You prefer your gift unwrapped?” she purred.
He took a tentative step toward her and she put her arms across his shoulders.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asked.
She nodded. “I did a lot of thinking. It’s not fair to you that you’re stuck with me.”
“Stuck is good. I like stuck.”
He folded his arms around her and they pressed together in the middle of the room. His manhood was straining against the boxers and she seemed to be enjoying the torment. She rubbed her hips back and forth across the swollen area. Oh, dear Lord.
“Every minute that you are away I will regret not being with you, not giving you what I promised. To be the woman you deserve.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
She pressed her finger to his lips and said “Shh. Well, you have me. I love you, Rembrandt Dekker. With all my heart.” She kissed him. At first, it was a sweet, gentle kiss, deep and slow, and then it became hungrier. Her fangs came out, but he didn't care. Their teeth accidentally clashed as they searched for deeper and deeper ways to consume each other's mouth. Then something changed in her eyes like she had become a wild animal. Her breathing got quicker. “I – I may not be able to restrain,” she said. She was panting. She grasped his boxers and threw them down to the ground like they offended her. For the briefest moment, she looked ashamed of herself, and then her eyes burned like windows to a furnace, “I want you so much it hurts. Please. I – cannot control... but I want you. Please! Now!”
He needed no more invitation, and she wasn’t waiting anymore to be romantic or dainty. The couch and bed were at least a few seconds too long of a delay, so he lifted her up and she seated herself firmly on his manhood. The touch of her skin was initially cool and then immediately warmed up like she was electrically charged. Forget that he was inside her, the feel of her skin was arousing enough to bring him to climax. She wrapped her legs and arms around him and squeezed. She was so light, he didn’t need a wall to prop her up. They began making love standing right there in the middle of the room. She clung to him so tightly, they could have been shrink-wrapped. She wiggled and undulated, and he lifted her up and down matching her rhythm. He wasn’t sure he had breathed, their mouths never parted. Her cat-like grip pulled him tighter and tighter until he wondered if he had re-fractured his ribs. His legs were tensing too hard from keeping up with her pace, he needed to get them to the bed to keep from falling down. He stepped carefully toward the bed, still keeping rhythm and hoping to hell he didn’t climax before he got her there. She was panting faster and faster, and her eyes were rolling around like she was in a trance, her passion seeming to possess her like a sexual demon. Her fingertips dug into him like she was trying to climb inside his skin. He was worried she might try to drink from him in her frenzy, not because that bothered him, but because of how much it may scare her. Things needed to be calmed down for both their sakes. He made it to the bed and laid them both down. She tried to twist to be on top of him, but he thought he’d better take control of things, and stayed above her. He pressed his lips against hers and breathed the words, “Shhh. Easy, baby. Easy. It’s alright.” She was still panting, but she met his eyes and those lustrous blue pools inside cooled ever so slightly. It was what he wanted, as she went from hunger to just love. He smiled and kissed her again. “I’m not going anywhere. Just love me.” She pushed herself upwards against him, this time more like a hug than a death grip. They began a new slower rhythm, and she drew him to her with legs wrapped around him. She caressed his neck with her tongue, and he explored the underside of her jaw with his lips. He kept the slower rhythm for a few minutes before he couldn’t help himself. They both started going faster. She cried for a moment in ecstasy and he grunted in pleasure soon after. Both of them fell apart on the bed.
