Naughty Flings: Twelve Naughty Little Romps

by Alexa Silver

  “You’re early,” she accused.

  “Would you believe I just couldn’t wait to see you again?” His tone was wistful, sweetly abashed. She felt a twinge of softening somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. Until his next words, that is.

  “Very nice,” he murmured appreciatively at her low-cut neckline and heels. “I like a woman who can follow orders.”

  Before she could volley back an acid retort, he held up a single flower and casually offered it to her. She gasped. The perfect bud was similar to a rose but it wasn’t like any rose she’d ever seen. The petals were vibrant silver tipped with gold. The leafy stem was ice blue with small but formidable thorns.

  “I love it! I’ve never seen anything like it,” she admitted. “Is it real?”

  Automatically, her fingers reached to accept it from his hand, mindful of the thorns. Her thumb brushed his and she noted again how cool his skin was compared to her own. Cool but not cold or clammy. His different body temperature was a soothing novelty, calming her heated pulse rate, which he could no doubt hear with those keen ears of his.

  “Yes. It’s from one of our greenhouse labs. It’s called a Vampire Bloom. Once plucked it does not die unless direct sunlight hits it. We’re trying to figure out how to create a hybrid that can withstand UV rays.”

  “Just one of the many miracles Chase Industries is working on,” she mused, inhaling its unique perfume.

  “Yes. It reminds me of you.”

  “Because of the painful thorns?” She laughed.

  “Because it’s beautiful and one of a kind,” he corrected with half-smile. There he went again, being all sweet and genuine. The blush from the simple, honest compliment stung her cheeks. At this rate, she wasn’t sure how much longer he’d buy her assertion that she just wasn’t into vampires when all she seemed to want to do was melt against him and offer him her throat.

  He crooked his elbow, inviting her to take it. “Care to?”

  Did she? Serena hesitated a moment. He watched her patiently while she made up her mind. Was it her imagination or did he give a small, satisfied sigh of relief when she finally linked her arm with his and stepped with him into the night?

  *****

  By the time they pulled through the electronic gates of the large Malibu estate and he switched off his electric luxury car, Serena uneasily surmised Caden wasn’t taking her to the fancy, undead-friendly eatery, Chez Vampyre. And this for sure wasn’t Club Blood, the hip new L.A. underground bar where a staff of willing, attractive human “mixologists” allowed vamps to sample a variety of blood types on tap from the source.

  “How did the other guy take it when you broke your date?”

  “Barry? He understood.” Actually, Barry was more of a friend than a real date, primarily because he was gay. But there was no reason to let Caden think he had a clear playing field where she was concerned. “He wants me to check in with him every hour, though,” she warned, lifting her chin. “You know, safety call.”

  His fingers tightened on the wheel. “If you were mine, I wouldn’t allow you to break a date with me, much less in order to go out with another guy who warrants a safety call.”

  “Barry’s a very understanding man. That’s why I like him so much,” she sweetly taunted. What was wrong with her, getting her thrills by teasing a vampire like this?

  “Then Barry’s an idiot.”

  Serena barely heard his grumbled comment. She was too busy gaping at the expansive house perched on the sea cliff. It looked like a Renaissance citadel, complete with battlements for crying out loud. Cautiously, she stepped from the vehicle. The full moon shone down on the waves, giving the Pacific the illusion of a gaping expanse of churning black water. She clutched her silver flower before her as though it might ward off dark magic. One of the blue thorns pricked her finger.

  “Ouch!” She froze, glancing at him in worry when a drop of blood welled up from the tiny wound.

  Caden’s lips twisted wryly. “Keep your pretty hair on. I can withstand being in the presence of a drop of human blood without going full leech on you. If I try hard enough.”

  She sucked her sore finger to stop the oozing and rolled her eyes. “That’s so reassuring. Not. Where exactly are we?”

  He shrugged. “My place.”

  “You said you were taking me someplace nice!”

  “This is nice.” He sounded mildly affronted. “And you’ll want some privacy to discuss your cousin’s problem.”

  “I do, but—”

  “Good,” he interjected brusquely. “After dinner is served, I’ve given instructions for my staff to take the rest of the night off. We’ll be quite alone,” he assured her artlessly.

  “Okay, see? That, right there! That’s hardly a reassuring thing for a vampire to tell a nervous, bleeding human on a first date, you know? Maybe it’s time to work on your people skills.”

  He turned and looked deeply into her eyes. She got the distinct impression he was willing her to feel reassured. “You will never be in any personal danger from me. Not on a desert island. Not in Times Square on New Year’s Eve. I told you. I can control myself.”

  She could feel his desire that she trust him. It wasn’t a command, unlike mind thrall. But more of an earnest, heartfelt request coupled with the sincere assurance that he meant her no harm. It also had the oddest effect on her clit, which was now warm and tingling, her pussy ready and willing for his penetration. Now.

  He broke their eye contact and the moment was lost, leaving her feeling weak and needy for the huge orgasm she suspected only he could give her. What the hell kind of power did he really have over her? She hoped the special purchase in her purse that she had procured in Koreatown could ward off vampire mojo, or whatever it was that always caused her sex organs to go into overdrive when he was near.

  He headed for the entrance of the three-story mansion-slash-fortress. Feeling conflicted for so many tangled reasons, only a little less so now, she slowly trailed after him up the lit flagstones to the front door.

  He glanced into a small, reflective device installed in the outside wall next to the knocker.

  “Caden Chase.” His deep voice carried easily to her ears on the dark ocean breeze, stirring ripples of desire that always seemed to burn in her belly at the sound of his voice.

  From the device, a green strobe light shot out to glide over his open eyes and down his face. A computer-generated voice politely announced, “Voice and retinal scan complete. Welcome home, Mr. Chase.”

  There was a whirring click and the giant door swung open on silent hinges.

  “You’re not exactly the trusting sort, huh?”

  He turned and saw her hanging back in the shadows, trying to stare around him into the dark recesses of his lair.

  “Not usually.” He quirked a brow. “Well? Are you coming? I don’t know about you but I could really do with a bite.” With a wicked grin he disappeared through the darkened doorway, leaving it wide open for her to follow.

  “Hell’s bells. Vampire, one. Human, zero.” She shifted back and forth under the full moon, wanting both to run after him and far, far away from him at the same time.

  He was her one hope to save Zoe, she reminded herself. And she still had the secret weapon in her handbag if he tried to do anything to her in cold blood, so to speak.

  Gathering her nerve, she walked through the dark, ominous doorway. The heavy door swung shut with an ominous boom once she was inside. Several heavy locks automatically bolt the door behind her. Not the most comforting sound. She was officially trapped inside some kind of medieval Malibu fortress with the vampire she’d tried to blackmail that afternoon.

  She followed Caden’s long, silent shadow as he walked ahead of her through the softly lit foyer and crept into the dining room behind him. A dim chandelier overhead weakly illuminated the large room. He stood next to a candlelit table set for two with ornate china, costly linen, and crystal stemware.

  She popped her silver flower into a bud vase on t
he table and looked around at all the dark, heavy antiques, and depressing wall hangings.

  “Tomb sweet tomb. Very Early American Coffin. Who’s your decorator? Bram Stoker?”

  His eyes followed her dismayed gaze around the formal room with a crooked grin. “I admit it. I need a woman’s touch.”

  His inference was clear. He needed her touch. The thought of running her hands over his body the way she’d wanted to for weeks and weeks made her mouth go dry.

  Strains of a Frank Sinatra song crooned from some unseen source in the room. Deciding to change the subject to anything else, she asked, “You like Sinatra?”

  “He was okay. A bit of an ass after his fourth martini.”

  She started to laugh, but stopped when she suddenly had a feeling he wasn’t joking. “How old are you, anyway?”

  “Old enough to know better than to answer that question, youngster” he demurred.

  “Vanity, thy name is ‘Vampire.’” Suddenly they were smiling together. She bonding with him, damn it, and that made her instantly suspicious. Was he lulling her into a false sense of security?

  It was time to take some precautions. She bit her bottom lip and withdrew a small bottle of fluid with a silver stopper from her purse. His gaze sharpened on it.

  “What’s that?”

  She removed the stopper and dabbed her wrists with the purple, viscous liquid inside. She kept her tone businesslike. “I got it from a wiccan in Koreatown. It prevents mind thrall.”

  He folded his arms across his broad chest. “It does not prevent mind thrall.”

  “It does so!”

  “Hop on your left foot and pat your head with your right hand.”

  Suddenly Serena found herself unable to stop hopping and patting.

  “How much did you pay for that goop?” His eyes admired her high, taut breasts bouncing up and down inside her tight bodice.

  “Three hundred dollars!”

  He shook his head. “You got rooked.”

  “Damn it! Okay, you’ve proven your point. Now, can I stop hopping like the Easter Bunny on acid?”

  "In a minute." His arrested gaze stayed fixed on her jiggling tits. “So you'll consort with shady wiccans, but you have a thing against hard-working, well-intentioned, bazillionaire vampires?”

  “Wiccans only bleed me for my money,” she panted.

  “Point taken,” he conceded, apparently hypnotized by the up and down motion of her cleavage.

  “Uh, Chase? I’m so ready to stop hopping. Now.”

  “Say pretty please.”

  “Pretty. Please,” she gritted through clenched teeth.

  “Stop.”

  Abruptly, she was able to control her own limbs again.

  “Let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson about trusting wiccans over vampires.” His eyes burned briefly before pulling out a chair invitingly. “Dinner is served.”

  With a toss of her head she settled primly into her chair.

  He took the seat opposite her. Instantly, a butler type appeared at her side with inhuman speed, startling her.

  “Good evening, madam. Would you care for some wine?” The somber, pale gentleman inquired, holding up a bottle of primo vino.

  “Uh… sure.”

  He poured a healthy amount of fine cabernet into her Waterford wine glass. From a different bottle he poured a dose of ruby liquid into Caden’s glass.

  “Reedus wasn’t certain what you would like to eat. And neither was I. So he had the kitchen make up an assorted menu from which you can choose.”

  Caden glanced at her with an imploring look. It was the weirdest sensation but she suddenly sensed he wanted her to be kind to Reedus. Was he putting that thought into her head? Once again this was not at all like mind thrall. This was more of an appeal than an order. She had complete freedom of choice whether to be rude or gracious to the vampire butler.

  “That was…very considerate of you, Reedus.” She picked up the gilt-edged card with hand-calligraphy that rested on her plate and glanced over the list of dishes on it. “I’ll have the shrimp scampi starter. Extra garlic, please. The garlicky chicken with garlic mashed potatoes. And the garlic bread,” she added pertly.

  “Would you like a nice, tall glass of iced holy water with that?” Caden suggested with heavy irony.

  “Sounds refreshing.” She smiled sweetly up at Reedus, handing him the card. “But whatever you have on tap is fine.”

  “I'll have what the lady is having, Reedus. Triple garlic on mine.”

  Reedus bowed. “As you wish, sir. Madam.” He zipped off.

  “You have a lot of toys in your bag of Jedi mind tricks, don’t you?” she asked warily.

  “It’s a gift.” He shrugged.

  “And that goop the wiccan gave me really doesn’t work. You can control me?” She asked pensively. “And there’s nothing I can do to stop you?”

  “No. But consider, I could have enthralled your mind, had my wicked way with you, and made you forget it ten times by now,” he admitted, shaking his starched, white napkin into his lap with aplomb.

  Her eyes widened as she watched him intently. “Have you?”

  He looked her directly in the eye. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Call me old-fashioned, but I don't see the romance in getting a woman that way. And I do want you, Serena Bliss. Make no mistake. Since the moment you walked into Chase Industries, I’ve wanted you. A lot.” His tone was blunt.

  She caught her breath at his stark admission and the clear lust in his eyes. “Why me?”

  He pondered that for a moment. “Maybe I’m lonely.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. I’ve searched a long time, Serena. And frankly, there is no one remotely like you on eVampharmony.com.” His tone was lightly self-deprecating but his eyes shimmered seductively in the candlelight with naked need that made her clit twitch under her skirt in primal response. “And furthermore, I know you want me, too,” he challenged.

  “How could you possibly know that? Can you read minds, too?”

  Holy hell, he better not be able to read her mind, or he’d know exactly how she’d fantasized every day at the office about his taking her bent over his desk. Her desk. In the elevator. And in the parking garage. She felt her cheeks flame. He was too observant to miss her discomfiture.

  “I’m not psychic. Not in the strictest sense.”

  “But you have planted suggestions in my head, right? Both outside when you were reassuring me you can control yourself. And again just now. You didn’t want me to be rude to Reedus because he’s a vampire.”

  “Power of suggestion is not mind thrall,” he defended. “I was establishing a simple thought link with you. It’s harmless, and you have free choice whether to let me in your head or not. I can’t read your thoughts telepathically. That’s a higher level of intimacy reserved for bonded couples in my world.”

  “The fact is, I don’t need to have access to your thoughts to know you want me as much as I want you. I can tell by your rapid pulse and the scent of sexual cream in your panties whenever you are in my presence that you desire me to be between your thighs and deep inside you as much as I do. Please don’t try to deny it.”

  She was no prude but heat filled her at his candor, and she breathed deeply trying to knock down her pulse that was in overdrive at that moment. She squeezed her legs together under the table in a vain effort to stem a fresh rush of desire from coating her panties that were already wet for him. It would help if everything about him weren’t such a turn on.

  “I—I just wanted your assistance for my cousin’ sake.”

  “And you’re getting it,” he said.

  “Why? You’ve already proven I can’t make you do anything. Quite the opposite. So what’s in it for you?”

  “Maybe I want to be your safety call, instead of idiot Barry, whoever he is. Maybe I want to be your vampire in shining armor. So you’ll turn only to me in bad times. As well as in good.

&nbs
p; “In other words, you’re the one blackmailing me,” she accused. “If I don’t say yes to whatever you want, then you won’t help me get Zoe away from Garoul.”

  “You seem to delight in thinking the worst of me. Actually, the rescue operation to extract your cousin from Garoul’s home is already underway.” He took a swallow of his drink, watching her reaction over the glass rim.

  Her fork clattered to her plate. “Wait, what?! How?”

  “Garoul is throwing himself a bachelor party tonight at his place in Bel Air. Most of L.A. vampire society is invited. I sent Vanessa, Henrick, and Bryan there undercover as guests. They’ll find Zoe tucked away somewhere on his property, most likely in a stupor from her ‘fiancé’s’ mind thrall. They’ll have to use their own mesmerizing abilities to break that brain lock to get her to leave with them quietly to a safe location we have made ready until she decides where she wants to go next. They have instructions to check in with me as soon as they have her.”

  “Get out. Are you serious?”

  He raised his glass in mock toast. “Very. We can’t have you wandering around L.A. trying to blackmail every vampire you meet into helping you, now can we?”

  Relief for her cousin washed over her. For a moment she was speechless. “Thank you, Caden. And please thank Vanessa, Henrick, and Bryan for me, too. It’s so kind of them to help.”

  His eyes twinkled at her happy smile as if he took genuine pleasure from it. “I told you, they like you. They wanted to help. Now that that is out of the way, any other questions? Or can we resume our regularly scheduled date?”

  “I have one question,” she admitted, suddenly all fifth grade shy. “Y—you never said anything about wanting me all the time I was working in your office,” she reminded him.

  “You’re a professional, Serena. I didn’t think you’d like the boss hitting on you at work, and I didn’t want you to feel pressured to say yes to me just because you were in my employ. I was waiting until your contract was up today to ask you out. It hasn’t been easy for me to wait for you,” he growled in frustration. “But then you preempted my invitation today with your little bombshell in my office.”

  She winced at that. The pale green of his eyes held her pinned to her chair. She felt as though he could see through her to her inner most desires, all of which included him at the moment. She shook herself. Zoe was going through hell right now. With a vampire. They simply were not suitable boyfriends, from what she could tell.