Dare I?

by Kallysten

  Her blood boiled at the thought that her ex may have been right about anything. She could accept that her friends saw her need to let out some steam, but she refused to give credit to any of Tim’s opinions for even a minute. She would go to that club, have fun, seduce a vampire or two, and show everyone—show herself—that she was not that bland, boring image that others sometimes mistook for her personality.

  Standing up again, she looked at the garment in her hands. It wasn’t the one she had been looking for, but it would do. She had bought it on impulse two or three years earlier, loving both the color and feel of it on her skin, but she had never dared wear it in public, not even for Tim. She quickly slipped out of her bathrobe and slid on her most daring underwear, a black, see-through thong and its matching bra, before putting the dress on. She struggled a little to pull the zipper on the side all the way up, but when she stood in front of the full-length mirror, she was satisfied by what she saw.

  The red dress was tight, made of a soft, stretch material that hugged her body and left very little to the imagination. It stopped halfway down her thighs, and made her legs seem endless. The top revealed her cleavage without being trashy, and the wide straps rested far enough on her shoulders to leave her neck completely exposed. She considered putting on a necklace, but quickly gave up on the notion. She wanted the vampire she would choose to have an open access to her throat. There would be no hiding of marks on the inside of her wrist with jewelry, for her. When she was bitten, she would show off her scars to the world, and prove her point.

  She had let down her auburn hair from its usual tight bun and she thought about letting it free on her shoulders, but again the desire to show off her neck and throat made up her mind and she wove it in a loose braid. Dangling earrings, dark red lipstick, dark eyeliner and mascara to accentuate her brown eyes, a touch of blush on her cheeks, black high-heeled shoes and a small black handbag completed her preparations.

  It was a little past ten o’clock when she climbed into the cab and gave the driver the name of the club; usually, she was slipping into bed with a good book at this hour. To be out and on her way to the city’s vampire club made her feel like a teenager slipping out of the house after curfew. She relished the way her heart beat just a little faster, and her skin flushed in anticipation. But most of all, she enjoyed how easy, how freeing it was. She didn’t feel uncomfortable, as she had expected she would. This wasn’t at all like the party experiences of her younger years, and that simple difference was, already, exhilarating.

  At last the cab stopped across the street from a brightly illuminated building. As she paid her fare, Anna was barely conscious of the driver’s gentle admonishment to be safe. Her attention was already fully on the club, on the red neon letters above the entrance that bled the words ‘On The Edge’ in the night, on the muffled music she could already hear as she crossed the road toward the entrance, on the people walking in or out, alone or in couples. Already, she was wondering which of them were humans and which were not. To know that there were vampires close by sent a shiver down her spine as she stepped in, but she dismissed the feeling of fear that was trying to creep up. She refused to be scared. She was here to have fun, to be daring, and she would do just that. It had been a long time since she had flirted with anyone or been held by a man. Much too long.

  Slow steps took her further inside, and she frowned a little, puzzled. In the center of the club, a bar was open on four sides, two bartenders serving drinks. Around the bar, round tables hosted couples and small groups chatting over the semi-loud music. In the very back of the room, curtained alcoves seemed to be offering a more private space to patrons. But despite the music, no one was dancing that she could see.

  Wondering whether she was at the wrong establishment, she walked over to the bar and ordered a cocktail from a man with the most gorgeous smile—the rest of him wasn’t bad either, from what she could see through a partially unbuttoned shirt and very tight jeans. It was while she was waiting for her change that she noticed people coming up and down staircases on the side of the room. Her glass in hand, she went to investigate. She only needed to descend one flight of stairs to see that she was indeed in a dancing club. Through the metal railing of staircases and suspended bridges, she could make out a dancing floor on the lower level, which seemed darker and louder than the bar area. She stepped down one more staircase and stopped on a catwalk to look at the crowd beneath her. The music was fast, faster than she liked it, but she could see the attraction of such a beat in a place like this one. The air thrummed with energy, and it wasn’t all due to the music. There was something about the dancers, a feeling of raw life and sexuality that Anna had never encountered before.

  She took a sip of her fruity cocktail and pulled out her cell phone from her slim purse. If she was going to do this—and at this point there was no doubt in her mind that she would—she wanted Carol to know. Her friend would probably call Jessie afterwards, and the two of them would gossip and wonder about what Anna was up to. Tomorrow, if they asked nicely, she would tell them. And brag about going farther than either of them.

  The tone rang twice before Carol picked up.

  “Guess where I am,” Anna said loudly to make herself heard over the music.

  Carol was silent for only a second or two before she practically shrieked: “You didn’t!”

  Anna laughed. “I did! I’m looking for a victim right now. Nice specimens on the dance floor. Isn’t that what you called them?”

  “You wouldn’t!” Carol’s shock was clearly audible, even though her words were hard to make out with the still loud but slowing down music. “You’re not!”

  “And yet I am! Call me tomorrow afternoon and maybe I’ll tell you about it!”

  She had time to hear Carol laugh before she shut off the phone and put it away. The thin shoulder strap was long enough that her purse rested at her waist, leaving her free to move or dance as she pleased without worrying about it.

  Focusing her attention again on the dance floor, she let her eyes run over the crowd, trying to guess, as Jessie had described, who down there was a vampire. After a moment, she started noticing something. Most people were dancing with a partner, but there were also small groups, with a man or woman surrounded by a few others fighting for their interest. These centers of attention all seemed to share the same way of moving, the same graceful movements, but also the same intensity in each gesture, and Anna was forcibly reminded of big cats on the hunt. They had to be vampires, she realized. That was why others were dancing around them. What she needed was to find someone who gave off the same aura but hadn’t attracted too many hopeful victims quite yet.

  Her eyes lingered for a moment on a dark skinned man in the center of the dance floor. The way he moved had her breath catching in her throat. But when she brought her cocktail glass back to her lips to finish it in one long gulp, a woman joined him, and Anna could only watch, a little disappointed, as the two of them embraced and started dancing together. For a few instants, she felt as a voyeur; they were so close, their hands all over each other’s bodies, that they might as well have been alone in a bedroom rather than in a crowded dance club. Anna regretted suddenly having finished her drink. These two were hot, and she wanted exactly what they had, this carelessness and disregard for where they were and who could possibly be watching. But more than that, she wanted a mouth at the crook of her neck and to look as thoroughly delighted as the woman she was watching.

  Abandoning these two to each other, she started once more to observe the crowd, her eyes drifting between bodies and faces, looking for that attitude she was certain came with fangs and immortality. And finally, she found him. He wasn’t on the dance floor, not yet, but his slow steps as he descended the staircase, eyes scanning the crowd as Anna had been doing just seconds earlier, had the same prowling grace as those dancers Anna had labeled as vampires in her mind. She had to reach him before someone else did; this hunter was hers.

  As quickly as she could w
hile wearing heels made more for a slow and sexy walk than for speed, she hurried off the bridge and down the metal stairwell, leaving her empty glass on the first convenient surface she found. Her eyes never left the man—the vampire—as she wove her way toward him through the dancing crowd. He was still moving, as though looking for someone, but she planned to make him forget whoever it was very soon.

  When she finally reached him, she stepped right in front of him and threw her arms around his neck. By a lovely coincidence, at the same instant, the fast beat of the music shifted to something slower even as the flashing lights dimmed slightly. Anna couldn’t have timed it better if she had tried.

  The vampire looked at her with surprise as she started swaying in front of him, not too close yet, tantalizing but not, she hoped, overwhelming.

  “Hey.” She smiled, swallowing back what remnants of nervousness were trying to come forward. “My name is Anna.”

  The music was still loud, even if it was slower, and for a second she wasn’t sure he had heard her. But of course he had; vampires had superior hearing.

  “Chase. Can I help you?”

  “Yes. You could dance with me for a start.”

  The surprised tilt of his eyebrows shifted to amusement, but he brought his hands to rest on her hips and finally started moving with her. Anna tried not to sigh her relief aloud. He—Chase—was playing her game, following her steps, and unless she messed up very badly, she would get what she wanted.

  She kept her eyes locked to his as she swayed to the music. The dance floor was dark, but she could still see their color; they were green, light and full of life. They were, also, still puzzled, and a little amused. As the song drifted on, though, and Anna danced her way closer to him, the amusement slowly transformed into something that, to Anna, looked like hunger. She might have imagined it, but his hands felt a little heavier on her hips. She could feel each of his fingers, tight on her flesh. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she couldn’t help hoping he would be just as possessive when she took him to her bed.

  Too soon, much too soon, the song came to an end. Lights started pulsating over the dancers again, the music following a wild beat that had the crowd cheering its approval. Anna remained as she was, her hands on Chase’s shoulders, and slowly came to a stop. Chase blinked, then let go of his hold on her.

  “Drink?” Anna suggested.

  She didn’t even hear her own voice, but after a second Chase nodded. Dropping her hands off his shoulders, she looped her arm through his. They walked up the staircases together. With each step, a nagging voice demanded that Anna stop, that she realize what she was doing, what she was risking. She refused to listen. She would talk to him before going any further, and make sure that she was safe with him—as safe as she wanted to be.

  When they reached the first floor, Chase led the way toward the private alcoves lining the walls rather than sitting at one of the small tables on the open floor. Anna’s heart jumped inside her chest, but she tried not to show her burst of nervousness. She slid into the back of the booth, smoothing her dress down her thighs and placing her purse next to her on the leather bench. On her right, Chase was leaning against the back rest, his head tilted to one side to look at her as though he were trying to puzzle out a mystery. Before either of them started a conversation, a waitress came by and asked for their order. Thinking a bit of alcohol might help her relax, Anna ordered the same cocktail she had had earlier. Chase, on the other hand, requested a soft drink, which puzzled Anna.

  “Afraid I’m trying to intoxicate you before taking advantage of you?” she teased.

  He smiled. “I’m just not very fond of alcohol. And you should be the one worried about someone taking advantage of you.”

  “Someone?” Anna repeated, leaning forward. “Someone like who? You, maybe?”

  “You don’t know anything about me.” His grin seemed forced, now. “For all you know, I could be the man your mother warned you about when you were a child.”

  The waitress returned with their drinks, and Anna took the excuse of sipping on her glass to observe Chase a little more closely. In the stronger light of the booth, his eyes seemed even brighter than they had on the dance floor. His features were strong, masculine, but light, very short hair made his face appear softer. She wondered how old he was, and how old he had been when he had been turned into a vampire. He seemed to be breathing. She had heard recently turned vampires needed between a few months and a few years to stop breathing involuntarily. She didn’t dare ask, though; for all she knew, he would have taken a question about his age as badly as she would have.

  “I don’t think you’d hurt me,” she said at last. “I’m good at reading people, and I don’t get a sense of danger coming from you. Not any more than from what you are, that is.”

  “What I am?” He picked up the glass in front of him, but took no more than a small sip before putting it down again. “I’m curious, now. How do you know what I am? I thought I was being discreet, but obviously I must be doing something to give myself away.”

  Smiling, Anna slid closer to him, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I knew from the instant you stepped down that staircase. The way you moved, the way you looked around you… I just knew you were the one I came here to see.”

  A last sip on her glass strengthened her will and courage. She usually wasn’t one to make the first step or to be too forward, but she was feeling something for the man in front of her. Something she couldn’t explain, a connection she had only felt before after weeks of dating someone. Remembering her resolve to be daring, she closed what little space was left between them, pressing her thigh to his, turning her body so that she could clasp his hand on the table, and slowly, so very slowly, leaned in until she met his lips. He went very still against her at first, as though frozen, but soon he seemed to relax. Their lips parted at the same instant and Anna’s tongue darted forward tentatively, meeting his to discover the sweet taste of his drink. He stroked back gently, more hesitantly than she would have expected, but it made for such a sweet, tender first kiss that she couldn’t wish for anything else.

  * * * *

  At the store, the row of tiny buttons closing Anna’s new dress looked like a lovely and attractive detail. Now that Chase is undoing them, one after the other, and pressing his lips to the skin he gradually exposes, these same buttons are sheer torture. Anna wishes he would just rip her dress open, although she knows he won’t. It just isn’t in his character. He has a seemingly infinite supply of patience. She guesses it comes from the hunting he does most nights.

  Her fingers card through his hair as he slowly travels down her body. The champagne and strawberries left her contented, and just a little lightheaded. Above her, the stars twinkle to the sweet melody of violins, and she almost feels like she’s flying.

  Finally, the last button comes undone and Chase opens the dress as though he were unwrapping a present. He sits back on his heels and she can practically feel his gaze on her, sliding over her bare breast, her belly, down her legs, and back up again. She looks down from the sky and at him. The expression on his face is pure hunger, and she shivers.

  When he leans forward again, she expects him to come up and kiss her. Instead, he kisses her bellybutton before lapping at it, causing Anna to squirm and laugh.

  “Shh…” The whisper trails as a caress down her body, ending at the edge of her thong. “Be still, now, lovely.”

  His fingers hook behind the lacy fabric of her panties over her hips and he pulls them down, excruciatingly slow. The gentlest push of his hands and her legs open for him. Anna closes her eyes and waits—not very long—for the first touch of his mouth. When it comes, unhurried and sensuous, she sighs. His tongue traces her nether lips, delving in to taste her wetness for just a second, and then it nudges her clit.

  Lazy warmth spreads through Anna. Without even realizing it, she rests a foot on the bed, pulling her leg out of the way and opening herself further to Chase. He takes advantage of the space a
nd pushes two fingers inside her, his mouth still on her clit. The barest hint of teeth ignites the sparks coursing through Anna and her breathing becomes ragged. She wants to urge Chase to pump his fingers a little faster, to curl them a little more, to bite a little harder, but all she manages is a word.

  “Chase…”

  She could shout when, all of a sudden, his mouth and hands disappear—and then she does shout when, after the tearing sound of a foil package and a brief, fumbling moment, his cock presses inside her, both too slow and too fast, too gentle and too rough. Perfect. Always perfect.

  Of their own accord, her arms and legs wraps around Chase, pulling him closer, deeper. She was close, very close when he entered her. Each movement brings her closer now, each thrust, each slide, each kiss pressed to the pulse point on her neck.

  When she falls over the precipice, she pulls him along with her and they fly together.

  * * * *

  Anna pulled back in shock when she realized that his lips, his hands, his whole body against hers were warm. She blinked and stared at him; he returned her stare, his puzzlement obvious.

  “Anna?” he asked, uncertainty tainting his voice. He raised a hand toward her face but letting it drop again without touching her.

  “You’re not a vampire.”

  The words came out too fast, and she regretted them at once. She felt extremely foolish suddenly, and even more so when Chase frowned in incomprehension.

  “A vampire? Is that what you thought I was? Why would you want to make out with one?”

  She was utterly mortified and wanted nothing more than to run off, but when she tried to move away, he briefly tightened the hand still holding hers.