The Beauty of Forever

by Elyzabeth M. VaLey

  “So, why do you work for Santa?” she asked. “You seem to despise everything about this place.”

  “Because he’s got the best business on this goddamn planet. That’s why. And I suppose it’s the same reason you’re here. You want to add to your résumé, and what’s going to give you more prestige than working here? Not to mention the thrill of working in the middle of nowhere and with an array of paranormal creatures. Is that why you took the job? Wanted to see what it was like to work with shifters and vamps? Humans weren’t cutting it for you anymore?”

  “No,” she said firmly.

  She inched forward on her seat. Eyes narrowed. What was wrong with this guy? He’d already made it abundantly clear he didn’t like her, but did he need to be such an asshole?

  “Listen—“

  “Is it because you like danger?”

  “Danger?” she echoed.

  “My receptionist all but wanted to eat you up,” he spat the words as if they were distasteful. “Do you even realize the way you smell?” he said, fervently.

  “Smell?” She gawked at him.

  “Samantha, you smell like fresh meat. You smell like blood pumping vividly through a body meant for sin.” Christopher smirked. “If I hadn’t promised Santa I’d keep my fangs to myself I’d be sucking your blood right now.”

  His blue eyes gleamed, predatory intent making her skin crawl. She gulped.

  The phone rang.

  “What?” Christopher growled, picking it up on the second ring.

  “You’re still here, Andy? I see.” Christopher nodded. “All right. I’ll be there shortly. Meanwhile, call IT and maintenance. Samantha will need a computer, a phone, and a desk.”

  “What do you mean where should we set it up?”

  The vampire tapped his fingers impatiently against the desktop.

  “Yes, do it there.”

  He slammed down the phone.

  “We have an hour before I need to leave.”

  “Why are you so mean to your secretary? He seemed like a good boy, um, elf.”

  A pained expression crossed Christopher’s gaze before it vanished, replaced with indifference.

  “He’s slow and inefficient,” he said.

  “Then why don’t you fire him?”

  “Santa appointed him as my secretary and demanded I give him a three-month probation period.”

  “How long has Andy been working for you?” Samantha asked.

  “Too long.”

  Samantha frowned.

  “But—“

  “What does it matter to you?” Christopher asked.

  “I’m going to work here now.”

  “So?”

  “I just want to understand you,” she said. “So I can help you,” she added. Icy sweat broke out across her nape.

  Christopher’s eyes widened. He placed his forearms on the table, clasping his hands together. His gaze searched her face. Cold. Distant.

  “Listen carefully, doll. Don’t even try.”

  He drew some papers from his desk and straightened them.

  She ought to back off. Common sense told her it was what she should do. She couldn’t. Beneath the layer of disdain, Christopher intrigued her. Besides, it was part of her job to help him. She had to ask.

  “Why?” she persisted.

  She never saw him move, but suddenly, he stood behind her, mouth close to her ear. A shiver raced down her spine, though she couldn’t discern if it was from fear or excitement.

  “I am over 500 years old, doll,” he whispered, his breath caressing her intimately. “If I tell you to do something, I suggest you listen.”

  His knuckles brushed over her cheek. The back of his hand rested on her neck. Cool for a fraction of a second before becoming warm. Samantha swallowed. The urge to lean into him shocking her and sending her heart into a frenzy.

  “Have you ever touched ice, Sammy? Held it in your palms for longer than a fraction of a second?”

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  The pressure of Christopher’s fingers increased. Her nipples pebbled and liquid rushed to her core.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “It-it burned and then melted.”

  Frozen lips brushed her skin. Samantha gasped.

  “I am ice, doll,” Christopher said, huskily. “Touch me for too long and you’ll burn or you’ll melt. Unless you want to become my next meal or have my dick pounding into you, I suggest you stick to your job.”

  Chapter Five

  Christopher jolted upright at the sound of the gentle knocking on his door. He lay on the couch, having fallen asleep barely a few minutes earlier. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Fuck, not a few minutes, more like a few hours. The knocking persisted. He rubbed his eyes and got off the couch. Throwing the door open, he stared at the vision in front of him.

  “Samantha?”

  Her lips parted and her breasts rose with a deep breath. A tinge of pink colored her skin while her gaze slid over him hungrily. Christopher clenched his jaw. He’d promised Santa he’d keep his fangs to himself. He’d even warned Samantha to stay away.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  He had to be rude. For her own good. It wouldn’t be wise to allow her to know him better. She’d gain nothing from it. Neither of them would. Work and pleasure never mixed well.

  “Samantha?”

  She didn’t reply, only looked at him with an insatiable appetite which fueled his own desire.

  “Damn, doll. You can’t look at me like that.”

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “Because we’ll burn.”

  She took a step forward.

  “I’m cold, Christopher,” she said.

  She slid her hand up his chest. The touch arrowed straight to his groin. He shut his eyes. Her fragrance entered his system, traveling faster than a river after a freak storm, dipping into his body to remain there forever, reminding him of her mortality and his condition.

  “Kiss me,” she demanded.

  He couldn’t do this. They were supposed to work together. Samantha pressed herself closer, like a little mouse searching for warmth. His arms ached to hold her. Hell. If he did, he’d bring her into an inferno of which there would be no escape.

  “You want me.” She threaded her fingers in his hair, bringing him closer.

  “Fuck, yes,” he rumbled.

  Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her firmly into his arms, cradled her head and devoured her mouth. Samantha arched into him. Christopher groaned. He deepened the kiss, taking possession of her in the only way he could. Her body molded to his. Warm. Soft. Desirous. Alive. Its heat toured through him, bringing memories of the days his heart beat and blood pumped through him.

  Abruptly, Samantha pushed him away.

  “Christopher, we can’t.”

  “What? Why?”

  She tucked her hair behind her ears and licked her lips.

  “Because we’ll burn.”

  “No—”

  “No?” Samantha cocked her head. “You should have thought about that before.” She shook her head, and as she did, the color in her hair shifted, becoming gold like October wheat. Her features became angular, masculine.

  “Lawrence?” Christopher asked.

  “There is no beauty in forever. There is no beauty in death. Now answer the door, Christopher.”

  “Huh?”

  He pointed behind him. The door was wide open but there was no one there. The pounding persisted

  Knock.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  “Christopher?”

  Christopher groaned as someone shook him.

  “Christopher, wake up. You have the meeting with Jacobs and you’re going to miss it again.”

  Jacobs?

  Jacobs. Shit. He sat up. In the dim light of the office, a man stood before him. Tall, slim, with long hair pulled into a bun, highlighting almost androgynous features. A pen dangled from long, elegant fingers, poised in t
he air before setting into motion. The memory of another time swam before his eyes. The room transformed, becoming an attic bathed in bright sunlight, except for the corner where he sat. Always watching as a pen or a paintbrush flew across a canvas, bringing shapes and colors to life.

  “Lawrence,” Christopher muttered.

  “Sir?”

  Christopher covered his eyes with the back of his arm. That wasn’t the correct voice. It was too gentle. He peeked from behind his limb. Pointy ears. Christopher swallowed. The weight of his years landed on his chest like a wrecking ball. So many people lost. Gone. Never to be seen again. If only he could find peace like all of them.

  “Sir.”

  Andy made to touch him again but Christopher lurched into an upright position, startling the elf. He couldn’t bear it to be touched right now.

  “What the hell are you doing, Andy?” he crossly asked.

  “The appointment with Jacobs is in forty-five minutes, you told me to find you and—”

  Business. That was what life had become. It was, in the end, the only thing which kept him going. The fact he was making children happy somewhere in the world at least once a year gave him a sense of serene comfort. He might not be good for anything else, but at least he’d make sure everyone received their Christmas parcels.

  “Stop babbling, boy. I’m going to jump into the shower and change. Do you have gifts ready for Jacobs?”

  “Yes, I sent him the basket you ordered and I bought tickets to the basketball game you told me.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be ready in ten.”

  Without looking at Andy again, Christopher entered the bathroom, firmly shutting the door behind him. He quickly stripped off his clothes and entered the warm jet of water. Leaning against the tiles, he allowed the spray to wash away the memory of Lawrence. He wasn’t coming back. Samantha however, was there, in the present-day.

  Brimming with life and passion, and a backbone he would have never expected. After warning her off him, he thought she would become intimidated and run, but she had plunged ahead, pretending to be unfazed. He admired her for it and they’d worked long into the evening and part of the night. Until her yawns reminded him she didn’t have the same stamina he did and he sent her home.

  Pressed on time, Christopher didn’t linger in the shower. Grabbing a towel, he patted himself dry, wrapped it around his waist, and stepped into his office.

  A feminine shriek stopped him in his tracks and his cock jumped to attention at the sight of his visitor.

  “Samantha, what are you doing in my office?”

  “I’m so sorry, so sorry. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know you’d come out like that.”

  She covered her eyes. Her cheeks burned crimson. Christopher’s desire intensified. Blood. So much blood traveling through those feminine curves. His mouth watered. He took a step forward.

  “Samantha, look at me.”

  She peeked through her fingers, hungrily taking him in. Christopher smirked. Did she even realize the way she was eying him? Her blush deepened. She rose.

  “I’ll wait outside.” She cleared her throat.

  “Stay. I’ll grab some clothes. It’ll be but a minute.”

  “No, I really—”

  “Stay,” he repeated more forcibly.

  Samantha settled back down. She worried her bottom lip, perhaps taken aback by her reaction to him. Frankly, he was also surprised. Although, he’d have to be stupid and blind not to notice the sexual chemistry between them.

  Christopher pressed the button to activate the closet hidden behind his bookcase. Taking his time to choose his clothing, he thought about Samantha’s reaction.

  Caught breath. Pebbled nipples. Flushed skin.

  He chose a navy-blue suit and a matching striped shirt. His cock throbbed. He needed her. Her blood. Her body. Everything. He yearned to sink into her and make her scream his name in pleasure.

  He spun around. The tip of her tongue wandered out, caressing the seams of her lips, multiplying his lust tenfold.

  “I’m glad you were enjoying the views,” he said.

  Her eyes widened and she quickly looked away. Christopher grinned.

  “I was admiring the closet,” she replied.

  “Of course.” Christopher raised his eyebrows. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right out.”

  “Okay.”

  Quickly, he reentered the private bathroom. After hanging the clothes on a hook, he unwrapped the towel around him and palmed his engorged cock. He exhaled slowly, a shudder running down his spine. What he wouldn’t give to go back there and put her pretty, little mouth to use. He stroked himself, imagining her lips tight over his dick, and his hand on her hair, holding her while he pumped into her throat.

  The click of a door brought him to the present. Shit. He was going to be late. He had to think about something else and quickly or he’d be late to Jacobs’s meeting. He frowned. The idea of a pissed-off faun was enough to make his dick deflate so he could at least redress. When he returned to his office, Samantha was nowhere in sight.

  He found her sitting at her desk. He’d had the standard wooden bureau placed next to Andy’s outside his door for two reasons. One, for practical purposes, and the second, to be able to keep an eye on her and safe from the rest of the vampires in the department.

  Head bowed, red locks framing her oval face, she typed away furiously at something. Christopher’s cock jerked. Clenching his fists, he forced himself to focus and went to Andy.

  “Do you have the paperwork?”

  “Paperwork?”

  Christopher bit back an angry retort. He grabbed the end of the desk and leaned over the elf. In a low voice he said, “The paperwork for Jacobs. The one you should have had yesterday”

  “Oh, I had it, but Samantha insisted I give it to her.”

  “Sam—”

  “I’m right here.”

  The fiery redhead held out the document he needed. He tore it from her as she explained the alterations she’d done to it.

  “Andy was supposed to do that,” Christopher said. “Put it in a folder.” He thrust the paper at Andy.

  “Well, he needed a little help—” she began.

  “He should know how to do this by now,” he growled.

  Samantha placed her hands on her hips. She glowered at him. “But he doesn’t, so instead of setting him up for failure, we’re going to set him up for success. Why are you complaining? You have the document you need.”

  Christopher’s jaw dropped.

  “I don’t have time for this right now.” He took the folder from Andy, tucked it under his arm, and made his way to the elevator. The click of Samantha’s shoes against the floor were loud and clear.

  “You are not coming,” he called behind his shoulder.

  “You can’t stop me.” She slammed her palms on the elevator door, stopping them from sliding closed.

  Christopher looked her up and down. Samantha stood solidly, her chin high, her bright gaze daring him to refuse. His nostrils flared. Blood raced through her system, the muscle in her chest hammering to the song of to an ancient drum ritual which reverberated in his ears.

  “I can stop you,” he threatened, lowering his voice to a husky whisper.

  “But you don’t want to,” she replied.

  Chapter Six

  But you don’t want to.

  What was she thinking saying that? It denoted a confidence she didn’t quite have when it came to Christopher. He intimidated her. His height, his beauty, his commanding air. The worst though, was her reaction to him. He sparked memories of hard, sweaty fucks.

  If he didn’t respond to her, then perhaps, she wouldn’t be so fretful, but if the bulge she’d seen underneath his towel was anything to judge by, he was also interested in her. It scared her. He was different. Unlike anyone or anything, she’d met before. It clouded her judgment.

  “You have quite the nerve,” Christopher said.

  Samantha met his gaze. Her heart beat
so fast she thought it would jump out of her and throw itself into his arms.

  “It’s my job.”

  Christopher’s lips quirked and he moved aside. Swallowing hard, Samantha entered the elevator box. She kept herself as far from him as possible but his presence invaded the tight space. She crossed her arms over her chest, realizing she’d forgotten her purse. The doors slid shut. Too late.

  She didn’t look at him, but his gaze rested on her, setting her flesh ablaze. Her pussy clenched. Her nipples rubbed against the material of her shirt, hard enough to cut glass.

  “Remind me again, doll. What is your job?”

  His voice licked every inch within her, sending sizzling flesh into a desperate throb.

  Focus, Samantha. Focus.

  I’m here to assist you. Jacobs is angry and your people skills have room for improvement. I can try to smooth things over.

  That was what she’d tell him. She was a professional. She could deal with this. Samantha cleared her throat. “I’m here to help you.”

  “Are you really?”

  “Yes.”

  She faced him. Her breath stuck in her throat. Christopher’s gaze roved over her hungrily, indecently inspecting and sampling. Samantha swallowed. Words failed her.

  “How exactly will you help me, doll?”

  Christopher reached for her. She gasped. Trapping a lock of her hair, he twirled it between his fingers. Upon release, his index finger skimmed her collarbone. Samantha tensed. Christopher dipped his head. Her eyes drifted shut.

  “I can smell you,” he whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. His lips brushed her neck, the exact place where her pulse pounded wildly. “I can almost taste you, Samantha.”

  She struggled for air. The elevator lurched to a stop and the doors opened. In the blink of an eye, Christopher was gone, leaving her behind. A puddle of hormones running amok.

  What was he doing to her? Could vampires hypnotize people? Maybe that was what was happening. She had more strength than this. If any other man had ever acted the way he had just done, she’d slap the shit out of him and report him.