by Rena Marks
Sara felt a tiny smile start at her childlike enthusiasm. “What time is dinner?”
Francesca looked at the huge clock across the room. “We’ll eat at five. We’ve plenty of time, but do you want to go prepare our outfits? We can make it fancy,” she enticed. “So what if the men turn out in jeans? We’ll have them drooling.”
She was going out of her way to make a friendship, Sara realized. It wasn’t Francesca’s nature to be overly friendly, she was more the sultry, silent type. But she was making a concerted effort to ease her feelings.
So Sara could too. She nodded and Francesca pulled her to her feet.
Rafe arrived at the door as they were heading out and his casual look took in Sara’s hand encased in Francesca’s.
“Sara,” he said sincerely and leaned in slowly, as if he feared he might frighten her.
He kissed her cheek. It was a warm comforting kiss and it lingered against her soft skin. He drew back just as slowly, as if he hoped she’d pull him to her and greet him properly.
“Rafe,” Sara said, almost shyly. But she looked deliberately into his eyes.
“Where are you ladies off to?” he asked casually, his gaze locked on hers, never breaking.
“We’re going to find something fun to wear for dinner,” Francesca said.
Something flashed violently in his eyes for the briefest instant. Male lust.
“Have a good time,” he said, as he stepped aside to let them pass, finally breaking eye contact with Sara.
They were walking down the hallway to Aric’s room when Francesca said, “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No,” Sara said slowly. “It actually wasn’t.”
“And it’ll get easier and easier. You’ll see.”
They were in Aric’s room now and went directly to the walk-in closet. Rows upon rows of dresses hung and Francesca began rifling through them.
“Look,” she said, holding one up. It was black and long, shaped like an hourglass. A single thin strap wound around the neck and it was backless, held up by breasts, for she would be unable to wear a bra. The bottom of the dress had huge slits sliced up the thigh to allow room to walk.
“Try it on,” Francesca said, excitedly. “It’ll be perfect, I know it.”
“You think?” Sara asked.
“Oh, yes. I’ll wear a scarlet dress. Even more daring, it’ll put you at ease to have me more naked. Come on, change. And, Sara?”
Sara looked up from the dress at the question in her voice.
Francesca said smoothly, “May I watch?”
Sara gave the briefest nod, such a small movement that Francesca almost missed it. She sat in a chair right there in the dressing room and Sara flung the t-shirt over her head.
She stood there, clad in her jeans and bra, not moving. Her breasts, which Francesca had fixated on, rose and fell with her breathing. Smooth, creamy flesh was bursting up over the lace when Sara reached between her breasts and unsnapped the clasp.
Her breasts literally fell from the cups. She pulled the straps from her shoulders, not looking at Francesca.
“Sara, they absolutely are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,” Francesca said. Her voice was carefully modulated to appear friendly and nothing else. Nothing else to frighten the skittish Sara.
Because in this lifetime she was definitely skittish.
Sara unsnapped her jeans and pulled the tight material down sleek hips and thighs. She turned slightly and Francesca was rewarded by the curve of her smooth buttocks, with the string riding temptingly between the globes, exposing itself on top with a black lace butterfly.
Francesca smiled, trying to appear friendly. “Those are pretty.”
But her fangs were out. And she had to suck them back in before Sara noticed.
Sara stepped into the dress, pulling it up over those luscious, pink-tipped breasts.
The dress hung perfectly. Made for her and Francesca knew that it had been. Only the best from Aric.
Sara turned to look in the mirror, exposing her derrière to Francesca.
Francesca gasped. “That is perfect,” she exclaimed.
The dress hung loose and low in back, almost low enough to expose her buttocks. Instead, it exposed the matching black butterfly.
“They’re both going to have to fight to keep from caressing it.” Francesca laughed as Sara tried to glimpse at her behind in the mirror. “I can hardly wait. And now, sweet Sara, thank you for letting me peek. I must return to my room to change.”
“You want me to come with you?” Sara asked.
“No. I need time alone to cool off. I only have so much control.” The look in her eye was intended to warn Sara. There was no way she could keep her hands off.
Safely ensconced in her own room, Francesca closed the door and stood before the dressing mirror. How long could she have stayed before Sara began asking questions about where Aric was? She couldn’t explain that Aric was the Master Vampire and out at other colonies. Damn him for leaving this up to her.
She could still hear his smooth voice. “You need to rekindle your friendship without me there.”
“I can’t. What will I say? What will I do?”
“What comes naturally. It is still Serra, after all.”
Francesca’s face was pinched and her eyes had the same haunted look they’d worn ever since Aric announced he’d found Sara.
Sara. So beautiful and didn’t even know it. So how could she possibly know of the love Francesca felt?
Francesca was hot and bothered from watching Sara undress and dress. Still standing in the mirror, she dropped her clothing and eyed her own body critically.
She was luscious curves and soft skin, kept smooth and hair-free. Raising one leg, she placed it on the vanity stool to peer at the shadows between her thighs.
Like Sara, she was a beautiful woman also. Hadn’t men lusted for centuries after her? Literally centuries, for Aric had turned her back when she and Serra were merely mortal.
Now Francesca wondered if Aric had turned her to wriggle his way into Serra’s life, for what better way than to make her best friend the very species that she avoided? For at the time, Serra had been involved with a wolf. Of course, she was glad to be turned vampire instead of werewolf. Serra may have loved one, but Francesca, without being biased, definitely preferred the smooth erotic vampires to the powerful, but violent werewolves.
Serra, oh, Serra. How she missed her so. How she longed to find her best friend again. How did she interact? What would frighten her? What would bring them closer?
A light tapping at her door interrupted her inner musings.
“Come in,” she said and the door opened.
Sara walked through, fully dressed and wide-eyed at the sight of her nakedness.
“Geez,” she said, clenching her eyes shut.
Francesca laughed, her rich voice rumbling husky. “Sara, you’ve seen me nude.”
“I know,” Sara said, opening one eye. “But I wasn’t expecting it.”
“You were the first time?”
“No, I wasn’t then either, but, oh, I don’t know.”
Francesca slid the silk of a robe over her supple skin and Sara looked at her fully finally.
“Better?” asked Francesca.
Sara nodded and Francesca pulled her over to the big bed.
“I just left you, why are you here already?”
“I don’t know, I just felt like you, oh crap, I don’t know how to explain it. I’m psychic, I feel things and I felt like you needed me.”
“Needed you?”
“Yes. Like you were unconsciously calling out to me.”
“Perhaps I was,” Francesca said slowly. “I was doing some thinking, you see, trying to sort things out in my head.”
“What has you troubled?” Sara asked.
Francesca knew she had to change the subject. She could hardly confide that her troubles spanned the centuries. This Sara had no idea that Others existed. Other creatures, vampires
and werewolves, witches and fairies. “It’s nothing, really. But I’m curious about you, to drop a bomb like being a psychic. How are you psychic? Tell me about that, it’s so fascinating.”
“I just feel things, is all,” she said somewhat uncomfortably. “I do readings for a little extra money and sometimes can delve into the past to relive people’s previous lives. I’m sort of involved in that now, in fact. I did a reading not long ago on a woman named Mattie who lives in my apartment building, but during the reading I was thrust into another woman’s life. It keeps nagging at me, as though there’s something I should complete for that woman.”
“Do you know who she is?”
“No, but it’s a rather sexual life. Twice now I’ve watched her with two different men. I get the feeling that she has to choose one over the other, although I could be wrong.”
Sara looked uncomfortable and Francesca wondered if she really thought she was wrong.
Or if her abilities allowed her to hit the nail on the head.
“How do you do a reading?” Francesca asked.
“Tarot cards usually. Just part-time. Although, I hear there’s a new psychic in town ready to usurp me.” She grinned. “Do I look worried?”
“Not in the least. Shouldn’t you be?”
“Nah. I’m hoping the new guy or gal gets all my problem clients. The ones that are convinced I can conjure up a love potion or something else as ridiculous.”
“Being psychic sounds fabulous,” Francesca said, but she felt her face tighten as she wondered what events Sara might be able to recall about her past.
“How did you and Rafe meet, anyway?” Sara asked.
“It was so long ago. Rafe was best friends with Aric and Aric chased after my own best friend. I was set up with Rafe and we hit it off immediately.”
“Your best friend? Was that Aric’s wife?” Sara asked, genuine sympathy in her voice.
Francesca nodded around the sudden lump in her throat. Her large eyes filled with tears and she took a moment to breathe deeply. “Yes,” she whispered throatily when she could manage to speak.
“I’m so sorry. It was years ago, wasn’t it?”
“It was eons ago. But it feels like yesterday to me.”
“You miss her terribly.”
“Yes, I haven’t had a best friend since. But you, I’ve found, are going to move along that route just fine.”
“You know,” Sara said slowly, “I was actually wondering if you felt it too. The closeness. I didn’t know if it was just me, or my psychic feelings projecting, or what the hell was going on.”
“I feel it,” Francesca said quietly and for once the shadows were chased from her heart. She was staring into Sara’s eyes and love shone through.
“I’m not gay,” Sara said simply.
Francesca gave a tender smile. “No, you are not.”
“Are you, uh—”
“Do I consider myself gay? No. I have experimented with threesomes and more and I can feel love in many forms, but normally I am not attracted to a woman walking down the street.”
How could she possibly explain to Sara, who had no idea that vampires existed, that centuries of life made people as old as she experiment a little? Or a lot. Human life was over in the blink of an eye, vampiric life dragged on and on until so much more became tolerable. Standard. Accepted. Desired.
Sara looked the tiniest bit relieved at her answer. “Good, because I have something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?” Francesca asked, emotions running rampant at the thought of Sara confiding in her just like the old days and yet fear that was evoked from the worry on Sara’s face.
“I’m seeing someone besides Aric. It’s horribly unfair to date them both.”
And then tiny tendrils of fear reached through Francesca’s chest, clawing their way up to clutch at her rapidly beating heart, like icy cold fingers. “Oh? Who is he?”
“You don’t know him, but his name’s Beauregard Pierson. I met him the same day I met Aric. I really didn’t know Aric well enough to tell him and I wasn’t sure how to approach it since we started seeing each other.”
It seemed that Francesca’s face was a bit paler than usual, but her voice was normal when she spoke. “How long will you continue to balance things?”
“At first I thought only long enough to choose one. Unfortunately, the choice isn’t that easy.”
“There has to be a way,” Francesca murmured, trying to comfort Sara but her breathing was rapid and her palms damp.
“It should resolve itself,” Sara decided and then stood. “Well, I’ll let you get dressed. Meet you downstairs?”
Francesca nodded.
“Okay, go back to whatever you were doing in the mirror when I so rudely interrupted.” Sara grinned.
Francesca rolled her eyes and was surprised when Sara leaned forward and kissed her cheek before slipping quietly from the room.
With the sudden tears that blurred her vision, Francesca never noticed the yellowish-green eyes set in the wizened old face that appeared briefly in the mirror where she had been standing before.
Chapter Six
Aric finally arrived, his presence distracting and comforting all at once. He glided into the room and Sara’s attention was instantly riveted upon him.
He was a beauty to behold. His hair dark against his light skin and tonight he had only the briefest shadow instead of the usual stubble on his jaw. Green eyes glittered from across the room as he moved toward her, taking her hand before bending to kiss her cheek.
“You look ravishing,” he whispered and her insides melted at the husky tone of his voice.
“So do you,” she said and meant every word. “I missed you today.”
“I’m sorry. I was unavoidably detained. I certainly didn’t want to leave you by yourself with all the doubts and fears you carry.”
She smiled, because he seemed to know exactly what she felt.
“Shall we head downstairs?” he asked. “Are you hungry?”
“I am.”
She wrapped her arm in his and they made their way slowly down the hallway.
He smelled wonderful, a crisp clean aftershave smell. For once, his cheeks were smooth.
Raphael and Francesca were in the cocktail room when they arrived.
“Oh, Sara,” Raphael said, his eyes penetrating as they roved over her figure. Then he kissed the curve of her cheek. “I do hope you get over your inhibitions soon.”
“I’m sure it will be very soon, Rafe.” For already, the familiar, luscious heat curled into her loins.
His dark gaze bore into hers and then he dipped his head and blew that liquid, heated power of something exotic over her neck.
The sensation was incredible, instant arousal flowing over her sensitized skin. Sara let her head drop back, pushing her breasts up at Rafe.
He pressed light kisses to her cleavage, burning a trail of liquid fire there also.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
Aric’s eyes glittered in her line of vision. “More, my sweet, or stop?”
They were already short on time. As soon as dinner was finished, she’d have to leave. Beau waited tonight.
“I guess we’ll have to stop,” she said regretfully.
“Will you stay the night with us?” Francesca asked.
Sara shook her head. “No, I need to return home. I have a date with Beau.”
“He can pick you up here,” Rafe suggested and Sara knew Francesca had filled him in on her dilemma of dating two men.
“It might be a little awkward to explain.”
“Will you return tomorrow night then?”
“I’m sorry. I promised him a date to the theater.” Sara felt miserable, almost as if she were making excuses after teasing, when truth was, she was spreading herself thin.
Aric sensed her agitation. “The night after?”
“I can do that.”
His eyes gleamed. “I’ll pick you up from work on Monday then and you’ll sta
y.”
Sara smiled sultrily at the three eager faces and looked forward to Monday. This would be a long dinner with the heat coiled so tightly in her loins.
* * * * *
The limo took Sara home after dinner and it was only a few minutes later when Beau rang the bell. She threw open the door and took in the sight of the handsome man before her.
“Hi, baby.” He grinned, holding out a handful of flowers. He made her melt, deep inside. In spite of that deep, rumbling voice that sent desire curling into her soul, he seemed more boyish than he had when she’d first met him, although he looked exactly the same.
“For me?”
“Yeah, all for you.”
She realized what it was then. He was carefree and relaxed, eager to be with her. Her. Sara Michaels, the odd person who “feels” things. The girl that attracted violent men finally found someone normal.
“Come in while I put them in a vase.”
He followed her into the kitchen and after she retrieved a vase from the cabinet, he took her into his arms.
“Kiss me,” he demanded and she parted her lips under his onslaught.
His silky tongue danced against hers and she moaned, stopping herself from begging, although she wasn’t sure why. This was exactly what she wanted, right here and right now.
“I’m supposed to be putting the flowers in the vase,” she whispered.
“Okay, I’ll step away. Be quick.”
Quick she was and the next time she turned to Beau, his eyes were fixated on the curve of her rear.
“Naughty man.”
“Can’t help it. You’re so sexy.”
But he stepped out of the small kitchen to give her room and inspected the rest of the apartment for himself.
“Nice place,” he complimented from the living room, where she could see him from the half wall in the kitchen.
“Thanks,” she said as she snipped the stems of the flowers.
“Would you rather stay in and order pizza?” he called out from the living room.
Sara’s face lit up and Beau cursed himself for not realizing that Sara wasn’t used to going out constantly. She wasn’t used to dressing up all the time, being driven around and exposed to the things he took for granted. She lived a simple life, just as she had before.
