Kiss Across Deserts

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Alex nodded. “I was given a teacher when I was thirteen. She was one of my father’s slaves. She taught me everything she knew about sex.”

  At their surprised expressions, he smiled again. It was good to set them back and surprise them every once in a while. “My father didn’t want me to sully the family name by failing to perform adequately in bed. So her education was thorough. That’s why I’m flailing, somewhat. I know all the mannerisms and the delicacies of seducing a woman, but…” he pressed his lips together, then pushed aside all the stupid reluctance that was stopping him from speaking. “I don’t know how to seduce a man.”

  “What makes you think it’s any different from seducing a woman?” Veris asked. “What would you have done if Rafael was a woman who had made a pass at you?”

  “Ignored it, most likely,” Alex said flatly. “I prefer my women softer.”

  “You mean more pliable, don’t you?” Taylor asked, a hard note in her voice.

  Alex smiled at her. “I like my women to be all woman, to be confident in their sexuality, to know what they want, yes, but to use all their skills to let me seduce them. The forced kiss and the hand at the crotch are not seductive. Not at all.”

  Taylor smiled. “You must miss a great many opportunities.”

  “I do,” Alex said flatly. “But the quality of the ones that do come my way more than make up for it.”

  Taylor raised her brow. Veris was smiling his little smile and Brody was grinning. “Are you taking notes, Taylor?” he asked.

  “I’m not planning on seducing Alex, thank you,” she said shortly. “You two are more than enough. Besides, it doesn’t take all my womanly wiles to get you into bed. You’re both permanently in heat.”

  “With you around, my lovely one, you wonder why that is?” Veris asked. He picked up her hand and kissed it, then sat back. “Where were we?”

  “What would Alex do if Rafael was a woman,” Taylor said, and the hard note had gone from her voice.

  “Indeed,” Veris agreed. He looked directly at Alex. “It’s exactly the same. Well, the approach is the same. The end result is just as good, too. Different, but good.”

  Taylor shook her head. “No, you’re wrong,” she said firmly. “I’ve watched you two together for years, too, and I have an insider’s perspective that Alex doesn’t. When you two are together it’s…harder. More direct. There’s not a lot of the caressing and teasing you do with me.”

  Brody was still sitting forward. “It’s not harder, Taylor. I know what you mean, but it’s just two men doing what feels good. What feels good between us, rather than between you and me, is different. It’s…male.”

  “Yes,” Taylor agreed, nodding.

  Brody looked at Alex. “You won’t ever understand this until you’ve been through it. Don’t listen to blondie over there. His seduction technique is to grab you and hold you down while he does what he wants. Very subtle. And not your style at all. My best advice, Alex, is to listen to what your feelings are telling you to do, and do it. There is no right and wrong here.”

  “Thank you,” Alex said heartily.

  “And make sure Rafael knows you’re new at this,” Veris added.

  Alex held back his protest. The idea of confessing he was completely inexperienced felt deeply unsettling.

  “He will understand, if he cares at all,” Brody added. “And if he doesn’t, then find someone else. When it comes to romance, the rules are universal.”

  “He will understand,” Veris said firmly. “I guarantee it.”

  This time Alex was part of the trio of silence, as Taylor and Brody glanced at each other, then at Alex. They all looked at Veris, waiting.

  Veris grimaced. “Said too much, didn’t I?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was the first partner Rafael chose for himself.”

  “Knew it,” Brody said.

  “Rafael needed…transition time,” Veris added.

  Alex nodded slowly. It was another glimpse into their very long lives, and filled in a tiny missing spot in the aftermath of their jump back to Constantinople. It was also an interesting insight into Rafael, too.

  He stood up. “I won’t linger and spoil your evening any longer. Taylor, thank you for your hospitality. Your home and family are as always, a special treat to spend time with.” He dug in his pocket for his car keys. “Veris and Brody, you have been a great help, thank you. I appreciate your candor.”

  “And why have you suddenly become all formal?” Brody asked curiously.

  “He’s always formal when he has received a formal invitation and hasn’t just dropped in,” Taylor said. “Haven’t you noticed? All those Muslim rules of civility. It’s nice. You’re always welcome here, Alex. You are one of our favorite people.”

  Alex kissed her cheek. “And you, mine,” he replied truthfully.

  * * * * *

  Alex was still debating his best course of action when Rafael opened the door, spilling light out upon the step. “Alexander,” he said, as if he had been expecting him, which perhaps he had been.

  Alex was more surprised that it was Rafe who answered the door. “I was expecting your daughter to answer the door,” he said. “I had an excuse all ready to use.”

  Rafael grinned and stepped aside. “She lives in a suite that is separate from the house and besides, it’s past midnight. I’m quite alone here at the moment.” He shut the door behind Alex. “Come on through. I’m in the middle of mixing a cake.” He moved ahead and Alex followed.

  “You bake?” Alex asked.

  “I find it oddly therapeutic. I picked up the habit when my children were all young. It was fun to bake treats for them during the night, ready for them the next day. I haven’t quite lost the habit, yet. It helps me think.”

  They were passing through a living room that was grand in scale, featuring lots of gleaming walnut and brocade. It was a judge’s house, fitting the role that Rafael was filling these days. Alex wanted to see a more private room, though. He wanted to spot the real Rafael.

  The kitchen almost qualified as private, except that not just Rafael would use this room. But despite it being a large room with a butler’s pantry and a walk-in closet that was bigger than some bathrooms that Alex spotted through the door that stood ajar, it was warm and inviting. There were genuine terracotta tiles on the floor and walls, which helped with the ambiance, along with copper pots hanging from the rail over the island. There was an enormous oven and range, over which a brick hood had been built. It drew the eye. The bricks were rough, as if the structure had been there for centuries.

  At one end of the island, there were bowls and measuring cups and spoons, and canisters with ingredients for the cake Rafael was making. Rafael headed for them. As he passed the stools lined up along the counter, he pulled one out and patted it. “Have a seat. I won’t be long.”

  “Is this what your house looked like, when you were human?” Alex asked.

  Rafael picked up the wooden spoon in the bowl, and snorted. “I didn’t live in a house. I lived in a hovel. It could barely stand up on its own. It leaked when it rained and was always freezing.” He looked around the room. “This is what the aristocrats lived in, although they would never have stepped into their own kitchen.”

  “You’re from Spain, originally, yes?”

  Rafael cracked two eggs with one hand, and dropped them into the mixture and stirred. “What would become Spain. The Iberian Peninsula. Back then, the place was called Iberia.”

  “Back then was the fifth century?”

  Rafael smiled. “I suppose Brody and Veris have told you a bit about me.”

  “Not a lot,” Alex said. “They’re very discreet.”

  “I see. Then you know….?”

  “I had already guessed, even before your comment the other night. You had affairs with both of them, at different times.”

  “And you didn’t?” Rafael asked curiously. He poured the contents of the bowl into the waiting cake pan.

  “When I met them�
�well, it was somewhat confusing, that time, because I met the contemporary Brody and the older Veris at the same time, because of the time travel. Later, I got acquainted with the older Brody. But even when I first met them, they were with Taylor.”

  “She is a lovely woman,” Rafael observed and turned to put the cake into the oven. He closed it and set the timer.

  “I thought myself in love with her for quite a long time,” Alex confessed. “Then I realized what it was I loved about them and grew out of it.”

  Rafael raised his brow. “So. You couldn’t see Veris and Brody because of your love for her.”

  “I could see them very well. I just…” Alex sucked in a breath, his heart racing. Say the words! He railed at himself. “I have never considered men as lovers until now.” He swallowed. “You will be my first.”

  Rafael studied him and silence gripped the kitchen. There was a tightness across Alex’s chest, making the middle of it ache.

  “Curiosity?” Rafael asked. “Is that what brings you to my door?”

  Alex gripped the edge of the cool marble counter. “Is curiosity what drove you to take Veris as a lover?”

  Rafael’s jaw tightened. “That was very complicated. There were a lot of things that made me…” He hesitated. “Curiosity was not part of it, no.”

  Alex nodded. “You touched my face the other night. I have never reacted to another’s touch like I did with you. Curiosity is not part of it for me, either.”

  Rafael moved around the counter and up to where Alex sat, his whole body thrumming with tension. He stood before him. “Then we are agreed.” His voice was lower. Heavier.

  Alex obeyed his instincts. He stood, then slid his hand around Rafe’s neck. The flesh was soft. He swept his thumb over his cheek. Rafael’s breath emerged, loud in the absolute silence. “I want to kiss you,” Alex murmured.

  “Then kiss me.”

  Alex drew him closer. Even just his hand resting on Rafe’s neck was enough to make his fingers tingle. He really had not felt this with anyone, before. It was a novelty floating on a sea of repetition, conspicuous by its difference.

  He pressed his lips against Rafael’s, tasting him with a touch of hesitancy. The rush of impressions left him almost breathless; the surprising softness of his lips, his scent, which was unusual for a vampire, but quite distinct, nevertheless. There was taut flesh under his fingers, and defined muscles.

  Then the kiss deepened. Alex found he was drawing Rafe closer still, until their bodies pressed together. He held Rafe’s head with both hands and drove his tongue into his mouth. There was no thought there, no decision to be made. He wanted to do it. He was barely conscious of the desire, but he obeyed the instinct. It was a sound one, for the pleasure leapt. His heart was a runaway and he could feel Rafe’s heart thudding against his chest. That heightened the sensations and made them better. His breath was rough and uneven.

  Then Rafe groaned and Alex’s heart—his whole body—leapt. He broke the kiss, but didn’t move away. He looked into Rafe’s eyes.

  Rafe cleared his throat. “I made the mistake of thinking that because you have never been with a man, your experience in general would be limited. How stupid of me. I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed so…thoroughly.”

  “I’m simply following my instincts,” Alex said. “So far, I like where they are taking me.”

  Rafe pulled him closer once more and this time he led the kiss, driving Alex up against the counter and pressing against him even harder. Alex could feel Rafe’s cock, thick and hard, against his hip. His own had been throbbing since the first kiss. His heart squeezed and a thrill fizzed through him. Brody was right. This was different in a very male way…but yet it was the same. The familiarity let Alex relax and inhale the pleasure.

  He could feel his heart beating in his temples and hear the throbbing in his head. He was a tight coil of need.

  Letting himself move purely as his body’s needs dictated, Alex reached out and snagged Rafael’s belt. He pushed him away so that there was an inch of space for him to work the buckle with one hand. He had never unfastened a man’s belt when it was being worn by another man, and the buckle worked in reverse to what he was accustomed to. Alex fumbled, then slid the leather out of the metal square, then went back to kissing Rafe, which he was finding a powerfully pleasurable thing to do. Rafael knew how to kiss, even without benefit of formal lessons from a slave concubine.

  The belt fell to either side and Alex pushed his hand under the band of Rafe’s jeans, his thumb over the heavy metal button.

  Rafe pushed away, gasping. His chest under the simple shirt was heaving. “No, not yet,” he said. He shook his head. “This will sound insane, Alex, but…I hardly know you.”

  “You know me enough.”

  “Enough to fuck you, oh yes. I just…I find I don’t want to simply fuck you. I want more.”

  Alex drew in an uneven breath. “A relationship?” he asked.

  “Yes. A relationship,” Rafael said. “At least, I would like to see where this might go. The question is, do you? Or do you want to slake whatever your needs are and be done?”

  Alex gripped the edges of the counter on either side of his hips. The counter felt very cool against his skin. He was becoming warmer with the beating of his heart, generating heat. “I don’t want to just fuck you,” he said slowly. “There are male prostitutes on every street corner for that. But I don’t know where this might go. I have to be fair and warn you. There is someone else I can’t get out of my thoughts, who draws me as much as you. I don’t want to ruin any possibilities.”

  “A woman?” Rafe asked.

  Alex shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I just wanted you to know. Until we know what this is, then I want to keep my options open. After that…well, we’ll see.”

  “You’re honest, as well,” Rafe said. “I like that.” He reached out and lifted the band of Alex’s sweater. “You should go home. But first, I want to give you a parting gift. Something to remember me by.”

  Alex swallowed and clenched at the counter even harder, as Rafe pushed his sweater up his torso, then dropped his hands to his trousers and opened them. The wool sagged open and Rafe casually pushed the trousers down his hips.

  Alex’s cock sprang upward and the air was cool around it. It throbbed in time with his heart, and the blood congested there was almost a dark purple.

  Rafe ran his fingers the length of his cock, and Alex hissed in reaction as sharp excitement shot through him.

  Then Rafe curled his fingers around the shaft and stroked and Alex rolled his head back, the groan emerging deep and hard. He was so close to losing it completely, to losing the control that made a superior lover.

  When Rafael dropped to his knees in front of him, Alex caught his breath. “Do you intend…?” he whispered

  Rafe looked up at him with a roguishly charming grin. He gripped his cock, then plunged it into his mouth.

  Heat. Heat from a vampire that must surely be as driven as he. Moisture and softness. And firmness. For a fleeting moment, barely formed in his mind, Alex recalled Taylor’s word for it. Hardness.

  Rafael knew personally what were the most pleasurable and effective strokes and teasing. His lips bumped over the head of Alex’s cock with delicious friction, and he began to tremble with the power of the coming orgasm. His control was jittering apart, as his body gathered around the climax, building it, driving it upward.

  At the last second, before the climax exploded, Alex shoved his hands into Rafe’s hair, gripping his head, and driving himself into his mouth. He was helpless to prevent it. The need was so powerful, his hips thrust almost with their own intelligence.

  He came with a shout that sounded hoarse and uncontrolled. Fluid pumped from him, as the pleasure rocketed up from his toes and his testicles. He could feel the tendons in his throat straining.

  Finally, he blinked and let Rafe go. Rafe stood up, a small smile playing on his lips. “I think I’m going to enjoy seducing you.”


  Alex refastened his trousers with trembling hands. “No, you won’t,” he said firmly.

  Rafe’s smile slipped. “Why not?”

  Alex caught his chin in his hand and kissed him, hard. “Because I intend to seduce you.”

  Chapter Four

  Sydney always hated driving home late at night, but lately, she seemed to be doing that more and more.

  To ease the boredom and the descending self-pity (loneliness, Stevens, you can call it what it is when it’s just you), that seemed to gather like a miserable cloud when she navigated almost deserted streets like this, she thrust her Aerosmith CD into the player and cranked the volume. While she tapped the steering wheel, she hummed the words, trying as always to ignore the sexist lyrics and enjoy as she always did the rhythm and the beat.

  There were lights at the intersection of Oxnard and Tujunga that were always against her, no matter what time she came through, and tonight was no different. She eased the Mustang to a halt, using the gears to slow it down, until it sat purring at the line. She shifted into first and eased the clutch out just enough so she could take off as soon as the light changed. She watched the opposite lights, waiting for them to sluggishly flicker to yellow, then after what seemed like a small ice age, to red.

  Then she counted off in her mind and hit the gas just as the light changed.

  She saw the neon bright headlights from the corner of her eye, as they lit up the interior of her Mustang and realized that the car was running the traffic lights and heading straight for her passenger side. It wasn’t even braking.

  She dropped back into first, to try to power the car out of the way, but it was too late. Even as she dropped the clutch, the big tank of a car rammed into her.

  There was the peculiar sound that cars these days made when they were hit. A flat, crumpling sound. Then the airbags went off and Sydney was abruptly enveloped in white, smelly pillows, bouncing against her side and her face like a slap.