RockMySenses

by Lisa Carlisle

  “Yes.” I smiled and reached my hand on his thigh. “I’m looking forward to getting to your place.” I rubbed in light circles, working my way up.

  A guttural sound escaped him and he leaned back. I reached up to stroke his promising erection.

  “Good God, don’t do that now, woman. I’ve had a semi-hard-on all night. If you touch me like that, I might not be able to woo you with my—”

  “Velvet cock?” I giggled.

  “Exactly.” A roguish smile crept over his face. “I like the way you say that.”

  I kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “Say what—velvet cock?” making sure to stretch the syllables long and low. I sat back in my seat.

  “God woman, you’re killing me.” He adjusted his pants. After a long quiet moment, he asked, “Who was that woman you were kissing at Vamps?”

  “No idea,” I replied. “She looked familiar, like I may have seen her at the club before. But I don’t really know where that came from.”

  “Kissing her?”

  I nodded. “I’d never kissed a woman before.”

  He glanced at me, eyes wide, and turned back to focus on the road. “Then I am a lucky guy indeed to have witnessed it.” He grinned. “What about the Viking guy?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve seen him at the club. Maybe he’s a bouncer.”

  Mike scrunched his face as he thought. I reached over and ran my fingers through his chestnut waves. “Forget them, that night’s over. And we just celebrated a new year, which means a new start.”

  “Right,” he agreed. “Big year ahead for you.”

  “And you? Any specific plans?”

  “We’re recording a new album so we’ll spend a lot of time this winter working on it. Which is fine by me, we’ll be indoors rather than traveling from club to club.”

  “Will it be like the other albums?”

  “Yes and no. I have a feeling with Nico in love with Lily, he’s going to bring more of a romantic element to the lyrics.”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  “Yeah, why not?” He grinned. “Ladies love that. And although they don’t admit it, the guys do too. Big romantic softies at heart.”

  “I can’t see Chee Keydood as a big romantic softie.”

  “True. Not his style.” He turned at me with an earnest expression. “But Chee Keydood is a stage persona. One with zero depth. He’s not me.”

  “I understand,” I replied.

  As if insisting on the point, he added, “He’s not real.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you?” he asked. “Who are you expecting to go home with tonight? The rock guitarist from the Velvet Cocks?”

  I put my hand on his knee. “No, you. Mike Harvey. The guy who acts aloof, but I see glimpses of someone deeper. Someone who took care of me when I was nothing but a stranger. I find that admirable.”

  Although his eyes were directed ahead, I saw his face light up. I thought I saw something he didn’t often reveal to others but then he wiped the emotion from his face.

  “This conversation is getting a little too deep for a one-night stand.” He flashed a wide grin, more Chee than Mike. “I’ve been thinking about the things I want to do to you all night and I can’t wait to get started. Because even though you said only one night, I’m not letting you leave my bed anytime soon.”

  Chapter Four

  Nike

  I’d been avoiding Michel, unable to face him after what I’d done, but finally I summoned the courage to talk to him. We’d just closed up for the night at Rock Hard Climbing, the indoor rock climbing center he owned, and I asked him to come outside to talk. The cool winter night didn’t affect me the way it used to, but we still preferred to wear coats. He held open my black duster for me and then put on a black coat that suited him well.

  “You’re trembling.” He put his hands on my shoulders and rubbed them in a soothing manner.

  I leaned against the brick wall. “Michel, I’ve done something wrong. But I don’t understand exactly what I’ve done.”

  “What is it?” His beautiful eyes filled with concern.

  I’d put off telling him until the guilt became too heavy to bear. “When you were here the other night, I went to Vamps.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you ask me or Maya to go with you?”

  That would have been the sensible thing to do, if I had any sense that night. “I don’t know. Something came over me.”

  Michel inhaled and exhaled. “Let’s walk.” He took my hand and led me down the sidewalk.

  Not having to look into his eyes as I confessed what happened made it easier. Michel always knew instinctively what I needed.

  “What happened?”

  Staring ahead at an intersection where two cars had stopped, I stammered, “I-I was filled with a compulsion. A need.”

  “A need for what?”

  “Blood.”

  He inhaled with an audible sound. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “That’s not all, Michel.”

  I peeked over to see him run his hand over his chin stubble. He appeared to age ten years in seconds. “Start from the beginning, Nike, and tell me everything.”

  “I don’t know if you’ll understand it. It was an overwhelming compulsion to be with this woman.”

  “Of course I understand.” He squeezed my hand and then turned to face me. “Sexually?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, averting my eyes to focus on a crack in the sidewalk. “And drink from her.”

  Michel ran his hand over his stubble. “You felt a thirst.”

  It didn’t sound like a question, but I answered. “It was awful. I couldn’t control it. My teeth became fangs again and—” Taking a deep breath, I admitted, “I bit her.”

  “Nike.” He blinked and kept his eyes closed for an agonizing second.

  I’m not sure he knew what else to say. Ever since I’d been bitten by one of Michel’s enemies, I’d experienced symptoms. Sunlight bothered me, but it didn’t burn me like it did him. It wouldn’t kill me.

  Michel had bitten many humans in his long history as a vampire, but as far as he knew, they didn’t experience the symptoms I had. He’d never brought anyone over. Since I hadn’t been drained of blood and forced to drink any of his enemy’s blood, I wasn’t converted. I remained human as far as we could discern. So why did I have these symptoms? Ones that had come on quickly then abated, but were now growing in intensity again.

  We’d traveled much of Europe after I’d been bitten, to keep me from hurting loved ones and to search for answers, which we did not find. My reaction was uncommon. Some even suggested it was all in my head as a way to identify with Michel.

  That didn’t explain how I’d grown fangs.

  Jackasses.

  “Did you drain her?” he asked.

  “No!” I replied. “I didn’t kill her.”

  “So you were able to control your thirst?” He appeared relieved.

  “Um, not exactly.” The guilt returned.

  Michel furrowed his brows, waiting for me to elaborate.

  “Danton stopped me,” I said.

  “The gargoyle?” His eyes widened.

  “Yes.”

  “Ah,” He nodded. “He’s taken on shifts as a bouncer at Vamps in human form. Mostly to protect Tracy, I think.”

  “Well, he protected another woman too. From me.” I pointed at my chest. “I’m the threat. A gargoyle you brought here had to protect someone from me.” I slumped my shoulders. “Can you believe it? Me?”

  “Nike, the thirst is difficult to control, but not impossible. You’ll learn to manage it.”

  “But I’m not a vampire. Not like you, at least.” I threw my hands up. “What the fuck am I?”

  “A wonderful woman whom I love and will do anything to protect.”

  “I’m turning into a monster.” The thirst started as a tickle in the back of my throat months ago, but grew stronger with time.
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br />   “Never,” he said. “Don’t ever think that.”

  “It’s true,” I said, grabbing a lock of my hair and twisting it around my finger. “If Danton didn’t stop me, I don’t know what would have happened.”

  “You would have quenched the thirst and stopped.”

  I gave him a flat stare. “I could have killed her.”

  “You wouldn’t have.” He ran his fingers through my auburn hair, watching it fall through his fingers. “I know you would have found a way to stop.”

  Unconvinced, I shook my head. “I kissed her too. And touched her. Everywhere.”

  “The desire for sex and blood is so close for vampires, they’re almost intertwined. It’s difficult to have one without craving the other.”

  “You’ve never bitten me.”

  His eyes took on a faraway gaze. “I’ve wanted to. So badly.”

  I raised my hands and dropped them. “Why don’t you? What does it matter at this point? I’m already tainted.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Nike. You will always be pure and wholesome to me. Whatever is going on, we’ll figure it out.”

  God, I loved him. His endless love and devotion was something I never thought I’d find. I shook my head. “We’ve searched so long already and found nothing. I’m afraid the only answer is I’m some sort of mutant vampire freak.”

  “I will never give up on you.” He took my hand and gazed at me, imploring me to listen. “Don’t give up on you either. You’re a fighter. You always have been. Your career was firefighting, for hell’s sake, before all this happened.” He tilted my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes where I found love and compassion. “Stay with me.”

  Allana

  Mike parked his black Jaguar in a driveway of a Cape Cod house painted white with green shutters.

  “This is where you live?”

  It appeared normal for someone who sported plated armor tunics while stomping on stage in giant boots and strumming an electric guitar painted like a dragon. When I thought of the other women who must have come here before me and experienced the same reaction, a pang of jealousy shot through me. I quickly buried that emotion. What was the point? It would only serve to undermine my plan of one hot night before I buried myself in my business.

  “Mi casa.”

  “I thought there would be fire-breathing dragon statues or something like that.”

  He grinned. “I like that idea.” He leaned over and kissed me lightly on the lips.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He responded by devouring me with urgent kisses. Clutching his shoulder blades, I pulled him onto me and we ended up spread across the front seat like a couple of overheated teens.

  His hand covered my breast, caressing it. “I’ve been dying to get you alone all night.”

  Heat built from his touch and traveled through me like liquid fire. It had been so long since desire coursed through me like this. Not since the last time we were together if I was truthful. “We’re alone now.”

  He slipped his hand under my dress, snaking up to my thong. I moaned with pleasure from his touch.

  “You’re so wet.”

  “Because I want you,” I managed to say through choppy breaths.

  Mike slid a finger under the thong seam and stroked my flesh. “I want you too, babe.” He put one finger inside me and I pressed against him to encourage him to explore farther.

  “I’m about to fuck you right here. I don’t care if any of my neighbors see us,” Mike said in a low, throaty voice.

  “Oh God,” I replied, glancing up to see the windows fogged with condensation. “I don’t care where we are. I need you.”

  Mike pulled away reluctantly, breathing heavily. “We’d be more comfortable inside.”

  “Uh huh,” I replied, equally breathless.

  He touched his erection. “I’m hard as steel right now. I need a moment before I bend you over in my driveway.”

  When we entered his house, I was greeted by a full-sized knight statue by the stairs. “This is what I expected.”

  “I aim to please, mademoiselle.” He took off my coat and hung it on a coat rack next to a black leather jacket. His eyes roamed over me with undisguised desire.

  Before I stripped down and begged him to take me right there, I took a deep breath to regroup and look around. To the right was a dining room. I took four steps away from him and missed his closeness. A small, round dining table with four chairs was dwarfed by a piano that took up most of the room. “I didn’t know you played piano.”

  “My mom signed me up for lessons when I was in elementary school.” He bridged the distance between us in two steps and rubbed his forefinger down my cheek. “She’d read that kids with high math aptitude also have a knack for playing piano. Complements each other somehow. Something about the parts of your brain that are used.”

  His touch left me speechless. Recovering words, I asked, “Do you still play?”

  “I can. But I stopped taking lessons in high school, once I tried guitar.” His eyes darkened with a predatory glint, as if suppressing the urge to capture me. “When you’re a teen, wailing on an electric guitar is a more gratifying way to pound out your angst than on a piano.”

  He caught a lock of my hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Your hair is so soft.” Leaning in, he inhaled. “Smells so good.” Tossing it over my shoulder, he left my neck exposed and ready. Oh so ready.

  I envisioned a teenage Mike playing guitar in a room filled with rock posters and comic books. “Ah, I can imagine.”

  “I’m imagining something a little more enticing right now.” His gaze traveled from my eyes to my lips. “Drink?” He moved to a built-in china cabinet where liquor bottles of different shapes and colors stood.

  “Yes please. I’ll have white wine if you have any.”

  “I do,” he said. “But not here. There’s a bottle in the fridge. Why don’t you take off your boots and make yourself comfortable in the living room.”

  Mike walked into the kitchen and I returned to the entry area where I removed my boots. Having a moment to myself gave me time to regroup from the agonizing anticipation. My cheeks felt flushed and my panties had passed the damp marker a long time back. With a shrug, I removed them and dropped them next to my boots.

  I entered the living room and scanned the area. A large brown sofa, a leather recliner and a gaming chair sat on a dark-red rug. A large flat-screen television hung on the wall, a complicated-looking sound system with speakers perched in each corner. Stacks of CDs and Blu-ray disks were arranged in rows on the entertainment console. An old-fashioned record player rested in the corner, appearing out of place. I wondered if it worked or was just for display. Two electric guitars and one acoustic propped on stands under a framed black and white photo of the Velvet Cocks. A music stand held music sheets. If all this wasn’t enough, a bookshelf was stacked with sci/fi and fantasy books, like Star Wars, Star Trek, Lord of the Rings, and the Game of Thrones series. Every shelf was covered with tchotchkes of pop culture, especially Star Wars and Star Trek. A geek’s paradise.

  Mike walked in with two glasses of wine, noticing me in front of the photo. “Lily took that photo,” he said. “She took a bunch for promo; that one’s my favorite.”

  I scanned the action shot of the three of them on stage. Nico held his bass and leaned into the mic, staring straight at the camera. He wore camouflage shorts and combat boots. John sneered from behind the drum stand, drum sticks in mid-movement in the air. Mike wore tight leather pants and a loose fitting white button-down shirt untucked and with only two buttons fastened, revealing several inches of smooth, tanned flesh. He strummed his guitar and had his head back, eyes closed, lost in the moment.

  “She’s really talented,” I said.

  He handed me a glass.

  “I saw a tiny black thong out there. Yours, I presume?”

  “I’m hoping you find out soon.” I raised an eyebrow flirtatiously.

  “Good
God, woman, you’re killing me.” He ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. “We need music.” He picked up one of the four remotes on the coffee table and lit up the stereo system.

  “Let me guess—one of VC’s albums. Get me all wound up listening to the hot guitarist who’s right in front of me.”

  He chuckled, a deep rich sound. “If that’s what it takes, I’ll put it on right away.” He scrolled through artist names on a stereo display so quickly I couldn’t read them. “How about good old Led Zeppelin?”

  I laughed. “Old school make-out music. I like it.”

  “Houses of the Holy. Great album.” He pressed some more buttons and then said, “You’ve got to hear this.”

  We sat on his brown suede sofa and listened to the opening sounds of The Rain Song. The instruments surrounded us and I reveled in the sensory experience, temporarily distracted from my overwhelming urge to climb on top of him. Robert Plant’s voice filled the room and I listened, mesmerized. It was like being at a live concert. I didn’t just hear the music, it flowed through me. It was inside me like a living, breathing organism.

  When the song ended, I turned to see Mike’s eyes watching me. My lips had parted and I closed them, self-conscious. “That sounded amazing. I’ve never heard anything like it outside of a concert.”

  “I’m a tech geek and a musician. A sweet setup is essential.”

  “Mmm. If I had a system like this, I’d never want to leave.” I sat back and took a sip of wine while the song shuffled on, Dy’er Maker. When I heard words telling a woman she didn’t have to go, it echoed through my head, berating me. Was it a sign?

  No, that was simply a coincidence, the next song on an album being shuffled.

  “Smart and sexy. No wonder women can’t resist you.”

  “At first.” When I narrowed my eyes at him, he added, “I’ve been called an asshole more than once. In fact, I think you may have used that or other choice terms to describe me a few days ago.”

  “Let’s not go there now.”

  “Do you have another place you’d like to go?”

  “Your room.”

  His smile was provocative and dead sexy. “Not yet. There’s something I want to see here.”