“I’m going to lift you up now,” he commanded.
I wasn’t sure what he meant or what he was about to do, but was a willing volunteer for whatever he had in store.
He lifted me off the edge of the bed so my pussy grazed his cock. With just the touch of him there, my body was ready for more. The handcuff on my right wrist rode up to the top of the rail.
“Is this hurting you?” he asked with concern.
“Just unlock it,” I said.
“No.”
“Fuck,” I swore. “Your stubbornness infuriates me, Devon. But don’t you dare stop fucking me.”
“Never,” he said.
He glided me onto him, impaling me on his cock. Once I was stable in his arm, my one free arm clinging on to his shoulder, he pumped into me like a man possessed, as if driven by some unseen force. I screamed out with each thrust, unable to keep quiet, the intensity was far too great.
“Yes, Devon. Yes!”
I clawed at his shoulder blade as I ground against him, with him, in some primal dance where no words existed. As our pace increased to an almost manic level, I felt myself rise to a peak again.
How was this man so capable of getting such a response from me?
“Right there. Oh yes, there!”
As my passion peaked, my self-control evaporated. The scent of his blood was too seductive to ignore. My face flushed as my lips parted to accommodate my extended fangs. I had pushed away the want for blood while I focused on all the other wonderful sensations going through my body, but now in this primal dance, the urge fought its way to the surface. If only I could taste his blood while I fucked him, the experience would be oh so delicious.
“Let me bite you.”
“No, Layla. Control it.”
“I don’t think I can.”
He stopped thrusting into me and held me aloft. “You have to.”
My vision was hazy due to my thirst, but as he came back into focus, I locked on to his blue-green eyes.
Devon
She stared at me for countless moments appearing lost, very different from the way she’d focused on me minutes before. Her stare had been so intense I thought she might be trying to exert her will on me again. But then I figured it must be due to the intensity of her feelings as she came soon after.
Layla now closed her eyes as if trying to regain control. Her fangs retracted.
“Okay, I’m fine now, Devon. Please don’t stop.”
I knew it took all her self-control to stop that urge and I appreciated the effort she took to go against her nature and instead focus on my wishes. I kissed her and said, “Good. Thank you for doing that.”
As I resumed pumping into her, she refocused her frustration and filled her needs in another way. She grinded against me in such a frenetic frenzy that it didn’t take long for me to feel her limbs stiffen again. Her head dropped back as her muscles tightened around me. Her warm fluids bathed my cock, sending me right up to an apex with her.
The days of hunting her, watching her, trying to capture her, and now fucking her senseless all culminated in a sensation that threatened to overpower me. This woman had consumed my every waking hour for days and probably crept into my dreams as well. The world exploded around me in an earth-shattering climax as I pumped deep within her.
“Layla,” I whispered. “My sweet Layla.”
I placed her back on the bed and lay down on top of her, burying my face in the sweet floral scent of her hair.
She rubbed my back absently in such a gentle motion that I wanted to stay here with her in my bed and never leave. But this was it—the one and only time we would be together. Regret filled me to a point where I knew it would never leave.
Why did the woman I wanted also have to be the woman I had to betray?
Because I never would have met her otherwise.
“Devon, can you please uncuff me now?”
“Shh,” I whispered. “Let’s just stay like this for another minute.”
Actually I lingered there for several more minutes before I had to do the inevitable. Reluctantly I looked at the clock.
“I’m so sorry, Layla, but we’ve waited long enough. It’s time.”
“Time for what?” she said in a sleepy voice. I wondered if she was on the verge of falling asleep.
“We have to go.”
“Go? Where?” she asked.
“You know where.” I sat up and pulled the condom off to dump it in the trash. Then I stood up and got dressed before she reacted. Once she caught on to what I was talking about, she might not be as sweet as she’d been in my arms. And I didn’t want her to bite me again.
“You’re taking me to Stefano’s? Are you kidding me?”
“No, Layla, it’s not a joke. I’m sorry but I have to. It’s just the way it is.”
She readjusted the dress so it covered the sweetest, most private parts of her body. I watched as her hands did so, as I tried to imprint her body on my memory.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I have a job to do. You know this.”
“You’re still going to turn me in? Even after we just made love?”
The suspicious side of me caught on that she was probably just playing me the whole time. That she only had sex with me to try to coax her way out of this difficult situation.
Watch out for her, Devon. She’s dangerous. You know this. You fell right into her little plan like any old mortal she would seduce to make them volunteer to be her dinner. You need to step away from your feelings. She’s clearly using them against you. Don’t let your attraction to her cloud your vision. She does not feel the same way about you.
Steeling myself for the night ahead, I knew I had to be an asshole to protect myself from her. She was far too crafty for me to let down my guard around her. All the sweet things I’d said to her she’d use against me.
“You might call that making love, sweetheart. I call it hot, rough, mind-blowing sex.”
The way she stared at me with hate-filled eyes did two things, which I didn’t think could occur at the same time until then. I was filled with regret at how callous I sounded, yet aroused once again.
The pain I saw in her eyes made me want to take it all back, apologize and bring her back into my arms, even if I had done so defensively. Maybe I should skip out on this job. What allegiance did I feel to a vampire anyway? I felt more for Layla than I did for that old fool.
But she doesn’t feel that way about you. She already showed how she was just using you, manipulating you, to get what she wanted.
Her blazing eyes caused the other effect on me, making me rock-hard again. Damn, I wanted her one more time.
Devon, you are one sick bastard.
I would rather she said anything than look at me with such loathing.
When she finally said, “You evil, twisted, fucking asshole!” I changed my mind and preferred the silence. “I already regret sleeping with you,” she spat. “A big fat stupid mistake.”
“That’s funny, you didn’t seem to mind when you came—how many times was that again? I lost count.”
“Shut up! A total fucking mistake. I can’t believe I slept with a slick sonovabitch like you.”
“Easy, princess. It wasn’t that bad. You were actually pretty hot for a dead girl.”
Why couldn’t I just shut up? The more I hurt her, the more she hurt me. And I didn’t see any way out of this vicious cycle.
“Piss off, you animal! You’re not even a man. More animal than human, especially as evidenced by your callousness.”
“What callousness? You knew what this was. I’m here to bring you to Stefano. And I know what you were trying to do. I’m not dumb enough to let you use your womanly wiles to seduce me so you can get away.”
“Then why the hell did you sleep with me if I’m nothing but a job to you? A dead piece of meat.”
“I—I—” She had me there. How would I explain the attraction I’ve felt for her since the first time I saw her? When she
writhed around singing onstage, threatening to give me a hard-on in front of everyone in the club. How could I explain that when she looked at me with her dark eyes, she disarmed me? And either she was one hell of a vampire with powers I’d never encountered before or she had some other kind of hold on me.
So what did I say? Something stupid that I regretted before it even finished coming out of my mouth.
“Because you’re hot. And I’m male.”
“You’re a fucking asshole!” she screamed. “Don’t fucking talk to me anymore.”
She turned away from me and buried her head in her hands.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that it’s hard for a guy to resist someone as hot as you when she’s coming on to him. I meant I’m a flesh-and-blood male. It was supposed to be a compliment.”
She moved her hands to cover her ears. “Don’t talk to me. Everything you say just makes it worse. Poison to my ears.”
“I’m trying to apologize, Layla! Take your bloody hands off your ears and listen to me.”
“No. So you can insult me some more before you get rid of me? Just another problem, just another job. I’m glad I’m nothing more than a pile of money to you. I hope you’ll be rewarded handsomely for your courage.”
“Layla—”
“Sod off, you bastard!”
“You are not in a position to give orders right now.” I grabbed her by the arms.
“Let go of me.” She tried to wiggle out of my grasp. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What I’m supposed to do. Not only will I be well-paid, but I’ll be happy not to have to listen to you spew hate anymore!”
“I despise you, Devon! I feel more hate toward you than I’ve ever felt for another person, even Stefano. And if I get the chance, I’m going to rip you into tiny little pieces and suck every last drop of blood out of your dead fucking corpse.”
Her burning eyes took on a reddish hint as she glowered at me. I returned it with a cold glint and smiled. “Then I guess we’ll use the handcuffs.”
Chapter Six
Joey
The hours passed and Angelica hadn’t returned my calls. Where the fuck was she?
I’d called her again, even went by her apartment. She lived in a crappy high-rise apartment over a pizza place on Commonwealth Avenue. Mike and I lived in a three-family not too far away, but I didn’t dare tell him how I was looking for her. He’d tell me I was stalking her and I’d better back off before she got pissed and quit the band.
When Angelica didn’t answer her door, I drove down to the Boston Police Department’s Allston-Brighton branch on Washington Street and parked on the main road. What would I even say to them? It hadn’t been twenty-four hours so they’d most likely tell me not enough time had passed. And if she found out I’d filed a missing person report, I pictured her flipping out.
Putting half a dozen quarters in the parking meter, I walked down Washington Street, trying to figure out what to do.
A private investigator maybe?
Yes, I felt foolish and perhaps I was overreacting, but I couldn’t just sit around waiting for Angelica to call me. If she was even able to call. Something about the whole situation left me uncomfortable and I worried about her. If I hadn’t seen that guy in the club drive off alone, I would have thought he was involved.
I used my smartphone to locate a local private investigator. After I explained the situation, he said he’d meet me at a coffee shop on Washington Street in half an hour.
As I walked down to the coffee shop, my thoughts were consumed with Angelica. I first saw her at a show in Boston. A local hardcore band who were big in the nineties played a reunion show. Most of the crowd consisted of guys in their thirties and forties who remembered the band back when they first toured. Then there was the younger crowd who were too young at the time to know who the band was, but were interested in seeing what they considered a Boston rock ’n ‘ roll “classic”.
In walked a petite woman wearing a black dress and high black boots as if trying to deceive people to think she was much taller. She stayed in the back of the club as if avoiding attention. Her hair was a natural chestnut color back then with her makeup very subdued, if she wore any at all.
Although she stayed in the shadows and away from the spotlights at the front of the stage, I noticed her right away. I walked away from the guys to approach her.
“Hi. Can I get you a drink?” I asked.
Her eyes darted around the room as her body tensed, but then she relaxed and flashed a warm smile. “Sure. Thanks.”
“I’m Joey.”
“Angelica.”
As we spoke over a beer, I told her about Bloodlust Diamond. Most girls who came to these clubs were into guys who were in a band. Angelica wasn’t as impressed as I thought she’d be. Instead she focused on the part where I told her we needed a new lead singer. Although the idea of female lead singer threw me off at first, she convinced me to let her audition for the role.
I left with her number that night, only not for the reason I had been hoping for.
The guys were skeptical at first, but during the audition we all saw something. Angelica and I had chemistry. Something we could play up onstage. It was a different vibe from having all guys in the band, but we all thought there was something there we had to try out. When I asked Angelica to join Bloodlust Diamond, she was thrilled.
“Only one thing though,” she said. “I’m a very private person. Please don’t ask me many personal questions.”
This would raise a red flag for anyone and I was no different.
“O-kay,” I said. “You do realize that when you’re in a band, you’re stuck together for long periods at a time. There’s practice and rehearsals and working together to come up with songs. Then there are the shows themselves. Most of the time, they’re local, but some are out of town and we may spend the night in a motel. So maybe you should think about what this gig actually means before you agree to it.”
“That’s fine, I get that,” she said. “I just don’t like people asking me too many questions about my past. I don’t like living in the past. I want to live in the here and now.”
Another flag came up and my mind went wild imagining what she was trying to hide. Did she escape prison? Was she on the run from an abusive lover?
I was willing to overlook her obsessive need for privacy to bring her into the band. When I warned the guys, they scoffed. “What is she, some freak?” Mark asked.
“Look who’s talking.”
“Whatever,” Rocco said. “Like I care where she came from. I have enough girls I have to pretend to be interested in. All I want to know is if she can sing in front of an audience.”
It turned out she could. And since then, Angelica had been part of our band, becoming a bigger part of my life as well. She kept her distance from the other guys and they gave her a wide berth most of the time, unless we were stuck together on a long drive. The two of us had developed a sort of friendship.
As much as she wanted to keep her past a secret, I knew she was afraid of someone or something. The skittish way she often reacted, especially if taken off guard, was one I caught on to very quickly. The mystery of who she was and what she was hiding from bothered me. Combined with my feelings for her, I knew I had a tendency to be overprotective when it came to her. A trait she didn’t appreciate.
Late at night, I wondered if our chemistry onstage and our slowly blooming friendship offstage could lead to something else one day. But I didn’t want to come on to her and scare her off. She had enough guys hitting on her every time she played and I’m sure she wouldn’t want her bandmates to jump on that wagon.
So I was too much of a chickenshit to let her know how I felt. And if something had happened to her without me ever telling her—well, I didn’t want to go there.
One regret that had been building up inside of me since she went missing last night was never asking her what she was afraid of. Was she hiding from some
one? I would have offered to help her.
Now I was afraid that whatever was haunting Angelica from her past had caught up with her. And it might be too late for me to help her.
When the PI arrived, he ordered a black coffee and a muffin and then sat across from me.
“Jack Westcott,” he said, shaking my hand. He sported a graying mustache and an obvious toupee and wore jeans and a navy-blue T-shirt covered by a Red Sox jacket.
“Tell me about the situation,” he said and took a sip of his coffee. My coffee had long since gone cold. The knot in my stomach turned me off coffee at the moment.
I told him what I knew about Angelica Blackwell, which wasn’t much, while he ate his muffin. Then I described how I last saw her at the club; she’d left with a guy and said she’d be right back, but then never returned. When I asked the bouncer if she came back, he said he hadn’t seen her.
“I know it’s been less than twenty-four hours and I might sound like I’m overreacting, but I think something is up. I just don’t know what it is.”
“What happened with the guy she left with?”
“I saw him driving away from the club a short time later, but she wasn’t with him.”
“Are you sure of this?” he asked, leaning in.
“Well, yeah,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I saw him drive away. She wasn’t in the car.”
“You mean she wasn’t visible to you. One thing I know about this business is never to dismiss something unless it’s a concrete no.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying this guy is the last person we know to have seen her, after the bouncer and you. So we find this guy and ask him what he knows.”
“I have no idea who he is.”
“Then we ask around the club. Somebody has to know him.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I didn’t see him with anyone else.”
“I can talk to the bouncer while I’m there too. How do we know he isn’t lying?”
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