Cherry Stem

by Sotia Lazu

  He took my hint and started fucking—no, making love to—me again. He lifted one of my legs higher and began plunging inside me faster. His mouth found mine, and he swallowed the choked mewls that escaped my lips.

  I could feel him deeper than before, but that wasn’t enough. “More.”

  My wet back made funny sounds against the glass, but the only sound I cared about was Alex’s heartbeat.

  He panted into my mouth, his hips slamming hard against mine. He hit all the right places with every move of his pelvis. That was all that mattered.

  “Come for me, baby,” he whispered. His breath quickened.

  I was close; all I needed was…

  Not losing a beat, he slid his hand down the length of my body, all the way to where we were joined. “Come for me,” he said again, pressing down on my clit with his thumb. “Now, Cherry.”

  The earth-shattering pleasure seemed to short-circuit my brain, white fire bursting through my veins. I locked him in place with arms and legs while I rode out my orgasm. I’d never felt that way before. My legs shook and my hands trembled while my body convulsed against him. Stars blossomed behind my closed eyelids as rapture washed over me.

  His thrusts, rhythmic until then, became erratic, jerky, when he gave in and let go. He came inside me, the heat of his cum making me shudder one last time, but didn’t stop moving until his cock was half erect and his heartbeat had gone back to normal.

  I have no clue where he found the strength to remain standing, but he toed the stall’s door open and carried me out of the bathroom and into the next room, where a large double bed took up most of the space. The rest held a desk and a bookshelf in one corner, the latter decorated with pictures of a young boy. Alex. “Your old room.”

  He nodded and laid me gently on the bed before collapsing next to me. “Gimme twenty minutes and we’ll show this room things it never saw before.”

  My lips felt too numb to form a coherent reply. I giggled.

  Swallowing a gulp of air, he looked at me, head tilted to one side. “Something funny?”

  I shrugged, still laughing. His eyes glinted.

  He shook his head. “As soon as I regain feeling in my legs, I’ll show you it’s not nice to laugh at people.”

  I silenced him with kisses. Tried to, at least.

  Before dawn, he carried me to the basement, where we spent more time exploring each other’s bodies. I fed, but only after he reminded me I hadn’t in more than twenty-four hours. He insisted he’d had something to eat while he’d been out.

  When I drifted off this time, I knew I was safe in Alex’s arms, the rise and fall of his chest soothing against my back.

  I also knew another thing: I was falling hard. For a human.

  I wished I wouldn’t come to regret it.

  Chapter Five

  I was just done relooping the laces through my bustier’s tiny eyelets when the bedside light was switched on.

  “What’s with the leather again?” Alex lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, his cheek cradled in his palm. “I brought you clothes. You can wear those around the house.”

  I pursed my lips, thinking of the contents of the bag he’d brought. Not the most flattering fit. A dazzling smile blossomed on his lips, and I had to smile back. “Or you could wear nothing.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  I looked away. If I spent a couple more seconds looking at the curve of his hip, his white teeth nibbling at his lower lip, or the way he was invitingly caressing the sheet in front of him, I’d forget what I had to do and jump back under the covers with him. “I have to go.” My traitorous gaze returned to him.

  He turned on his back and pulled the sheet up all the way to his chest in a gesture so prudish it’d be funny if I didn’t want to rip the covers off him. “To the council?”

  I shook my head. “No. Someone else first. I want to see if he can arrange a meeting.” I’d showered again but hadn’t paid enough attention to towel drying, and it was a bitch pulling my boots back on, which worked out fine since fighting to pull them up meant I didn’t have to look at him.

  “He?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him run a hand through his hair. “Should I be jealous?”

  My worry that maybe he should be, that maybe my meeting Constantine was a horrible idea, was what made me snap at him. “You have no right to be jealous.” I shouldn’t feel bad for saying that; he wasn’t my boyfriend.

  Ha! The boots were finally in place. I trained my gaze on him.

  He just nodded.

  Right, so I felt bad. And I’d pop by my place to change into something less sexy before visiting my ex. “Will you be okay?” I fully expected him to say I had no right to ask that.

  He surprised me. “It depends. Will you be back?” He was not facing me, but I could make out the muscle ticking in his jaw. I liked knowing it took effort for him to be so calm and civil—and God, did that make me a horrible person.

  I should keep my distance. Especially after the way I’d felt the previous night. I should go see Constantine, have a quickie for old times’ sake, and only contact Alex when I knew something about the case. “Don’t you plan on going home at some point? Oversee the repairmen?”

  Why did he have to have that boyish grin? “Nope. No need to. Gas company guys know what they’re doing.” He shrugged. “And I have everything I need here.” The look he threw me indicated he was referring to much more than groceries. “So will you be back?”

  “Yeah. It won’t take long.” Not if my brain still worked after seeing Constantine for the first time since I’d broken up with him.

  Without a word, Alex held a hand out to me. Closing the distance to the bed, I took it and leaned over so I could kiss him good-bye.

  * * * *

  Constantine’s human butler, Wesley, opened the heavy mahogany door. There was no sign of recognition on his ancient face even after I gave him my name. It stung that he didn’t remember me—not like he’d been seeing me almost daily for two years.

  He let me in and told me Constantine was waiting for me in his boudoir. His smile when I groaned at the thought of meeting my ex in his bedroom took at least twenty years off his wrinkled face. “I suggested the parlor, but when Master Constantine is set on something, there is no talking him out of it.”

  Tell me about it. I’d been yelling at the stubborn ass to leave me alone for four years now. He hadn’t relented one bit in his pursuit and still called me at least twice a week to see how I was doing and ask if I’d reconsidered.

  I followed the human inside with a nod, trying hard not to scoff at parlor. Why would a vampire need one unless he was a pretentious bastard? Never mind, I got my answer right there. I scratched out the thought that I’d considered his flashiness part of his charm when we’d been together. I’d been too smitten to be objective.

  Not staring at the blatant expressions of wealth along the corridor that led to the stairway took a lot of effort. The tapestry was embroidered with what I knew was real gold. I couldn’t help but compare my ex’s lifestyle with Alex’s. It both relieved and scared me that in my mind, Alex won, hands down.

  The thick carpet enveloped our feet, drowning out the sounds of our footsteps as we took the stairs down. Constantine heard us, nevertheless.

  “Come in, darling,” he called from behind the closed door of his bedroom. “We won’t be needing you, Wesley.”

  The old man reached for the doorknob, but I placed my hand on it and shook my head. “I got it.”

  I expected him to insist, but he gave me a small bow, his joints creaking, and disappeared up the stairs faster than I’d considered possible.

  I so didn’t want to open that door.

  The knob felt cold under my palm, uninviting, yet I turned it and pushed anyway, to reveal a sight that would have taken my breath away, if I had any.

  I’d called before dropping by, in hopes Constantine would be decent by the time I went to his mansion. I ought to have known better. The light of at least ten dozen c
andles showered a room twice as big as my entire apartment, in the center of which stood a bed double the width and length of a king-size. The deep purple silken duvet matched the color of the walls and made stark contrast with Constantine’s naked upper body.

  He was waiting for me in bed.

  Fortunately he was covered from the waist down. His long legs were bent at the knees, and he had one arm folded behind his head, the other lying loosely at his side. His hair, long and golden, framed his head, making him look like an angel. I knew no angel would be as wicked as he was or have as perfect a body. His height—I confess, I like my men tall—and absurd sexiness were the only similarities between him and Alex. Alex’s well-built body and short, wavy hair, that perfectly black shade that even the best colorist wouldn’t be able to duplicate, brought to mind a Greek god. Constantine’s lean and sinewy frame, his long blond hair, and blue eyes had always made me think of a Norse deity—one that pillaged and made love for hours.

  That was definitely not how I should be thinking of him.

  I couldn’t move, couldn’t enter the room or back out of it and run like I wanted to.

  He reached out, much like Alex had when I’d left him earlier that evening, and beckoned me to him with his index finger.

  For a moment there, seeing his bare skin gleam in the candlelight, I forgot everything. I forgot how he’d crushed my heart underfoot after I’d given it to him. I forgot that he was a cheater and that he’d filled me with insecurities even before I knew he was sleeping with someone else. I shut the door and stepped closer.

  His smile—his beautiful, sexy, promising smile—was what snapped me out of it. It was too self-satisfied for my taste. That lift of his sensual lips was saying, I knew you’d come to me. Once upon a time that would have been enough for me to strip and jump him. Now I was glad I’d taken the time to go by my apartment and change into a pair of blue jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers before visiting him. It was a small victory that I hadn’t dressed up for him.

  I stopped at the foot of the bed and said, “We have to talk.”

  He pouted, and I admit I felt like a loser for wanting to pull his jutting lower lip between my own. “Do we have to?”

  Why would he still have an accent? I knew he’d been in the States for a couple of centuries, long enough to speak like he’d been born here. Was he keeping it only to make me want him?

  “Yes. We do.” Go me for sounding so sure.

  “Can’t we kiss hello, first? That’s what my people do.”

  “You’re not Italian, Constantine.” That wasn’t even his real name, not that I could talk. He’d told me he’d changed his name when he’d moved here, going for something more sophisticated. “Your people probably decapitated one another as a greeting.” Okay, I was being stupid, but all that hotness had put me on my defensive mode.

  He laughed, and the sound felt like a caress. He used to laugh like that when he’d reduced me to a pile of goo after hours and hours of amazing sex. Gah! Could I stop thinking about that, please? I hadn’t been the only one he’d liked goo-ifying.

  “How about a kiss because you want to, then?”

  I scowled. I didn’t want to kiss him, did I?

  “I guess that’s a no.” He raised his arms in defeat. “Fine. We’ll talk, then.” Just when I was about to sigh in relief, he folded the quilt back from his legs and slid out of bed.

  He was naked.

  And hard.

  And walking toward me.

  Telling him to put something on took all the self-control I possessed, and I felt drained by the time he finally draped a dark blue robe over his shoulders. It didn’t hide anything, but if I opened my mouth to tell him that, I’d drool.

  There was nothing in the room we could sit on except the bed, so I reluctantly parked my butt at its edge. I had to hop a bit to manage that, but I did so as gracefully as possible and locked gazes with him. Big mistake. He was the only vampire I knew whose eyes changed color according to his mood. Their current violet meant he was hungry…and not for blood.

  That was the way his eyes had looked every time his lips had sought mine, every time I’d taken him inside me.

  That was the way his eyes had looked the day I’d found him balls-deep inside the woman who’d created him.

  I definitely didn’t need the visual that came to mind uninvited. The she-devil had been on her knees, facing the door, and he was slamming inside her, making her breasts bounce. She’d seen me first, smirked, and urged him on, which he’d had no objection to until he’d noticed me. Even then when he’d frozen, she kept fucking herself onto his cock.

  I had to focus on what was important, not the way he’d had his face buried in her golden mane. “I need you to arrange a meeting with the council.”

  “I need you too.” He covered my hand with his and brought it to his chest, over his heart. “This almost beat when I was with you.”

  I tried to speak, but nothing came out of my mouth. Unless you want to count that mewling sound I wished I could take back. He sounded sincere, which was unsettling. What was more unsettling was that I cared.

  When I finally spoke, my voice lacked conviction. “This is serious, Constantine.”

  “This is serious too.” He moved between my legs and guided my hand down his front to his cock.

  I pulled away like I’d been burned. “No. That”—I pointed to his groin—“is stupid. You don’t want me. You just hate having lost me.”

  “I hate having lost you because I want you.”

  “To complete your collection?” Why was I letting him pull me into that talk? We’d had it a million times over the phone.

  “Because I can’t live without you.”

  “You’re already dead. It doesn’t matter.”

  “I made a mistake, Cherry. I’ve apologized a million times and will apologize a million more. It meant nothing.”

  Yeah, sure. It had meant nothing. According to him, that was why it had happened often, because it had meant nothing. “Vampires are overly sexual beings,” he’d kept telling me when we were together. “We are driven by our passions and our lust.” When I’d said that made us animals, he’d countered that it made us superhuman; the way we let our wants dictate our actions held us above society’s rules and conventions. I’d said that was bullshit, and he’d said I was too young to know better. I’d wanted him to be monogamous, something rare in our kind. He’d made an effort just for me, which was why he’d only been fucking Ádísa. Because it had meant nothing.

  Well, it had meant a lot to me, and I said so now, like I had back then.

  He grabbed my wrist and, when I moved to slap him with my free hand, managed to somehow trap that too. “I love that you’re so stubborn.”

  Then the asshole kissed me.

  It was nothing like the kisses Alex and I had been exchanging for the last two days, although it did have the same bone-jellifying effect. It was dominant and possessive, and I didn’t want it.

  For four years, I’d avoided meeting him, despite calls and letters that begged me to do so, because I’d been afraid I’d give in to the passion he’d always ignited in me. And before Alex, I probably would have. After Alex, however, hot and irresistible as Constantine might be, it was only my body that wanted him. The body has its own memory. It remembers how a touch made it shiver once, remembers how it felt to be taken by an experienced lover.

  Sadly for my former lover, those memories weren’t enough to overcome the memory of his betrayal, or the memory of another lover, a considerate one, waiting for me.

  I freed my hands and shoved him back so hard he’d have flown across the room if he were human. As it was, he barely saved himself the embarrassment of falling on his ass.

  “You don’t get to kiss me.” I stabbed the air with my index finger. “You don’t get to touch me and make me want you. We’ve been over this.”

  “I love—”

  “You don’t get to do that, either. You’d convinced me I was nothing without you,
and you just hate that I know better now.”

  His face hardened, and I had the niggling suspicion I was not entirely right on that account—not that I cared. I didn’t. Wouldn’t. Even if part of me wanted to hug him and hold him close.

  “You’re not getting me back, Constantine. Ever.” I hated that his eyes squeezed shut with something akin to pain at my words. I hated that I cared.

  He finally tightened his robe around him. “I’ll let you know when I’ve spoken to the council.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  “They may ask what it’s about.” He turned his back to me and walked to the door. I reassessed my earlier reflection on similarities between him and Alex and added one. They both swaggered with a feline grace that made me feel like a klutz.

  I followed, happy my legs were steady. “I think there is a rogue out there.”

  His step faltered for only a split second.

  He opened the door and held it for me. “If you change your mind, ever, I will be waiting.”

  “I won’t.” I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs to do more than whisper, but I was reasonably confident that I meant what I’d said.

  He bobbed his head once. “I will be here, regardless.”

  I cupped his chin, allowing myself to take in the lines of his face, his cheekbones, his high brow, his square jaw. “Thank you.” I meant it.

  I was halfway up the stairs when he said, “Please be careful.”

  * * * *

  I was too stressed to fly after leaving Constantine’s place, so I decided to take a stroll first, let the night air calm my nerves.

  The way things had been going the past couple of days, it made sense that my little walk would end up frazzling me even further.

  The conversation with my ex had gone well, all in all. I felt bad for having caused him pain, but at the same time, I felt vindicated. Besides, I’d hurt him less than he’d hurt me. At the end of the day, we’d been civilized—mostly—had had closure, which had been long overdue, and he would talk to the council for me. I hoped they would agree to see me, and that they weren’t the grudge-holding type.