Alpha Vampire Romance: Vampire’s Mate (Paranormal Shapeshifter Alpha Demon Vampire Romance) (Coming of Age Werewolf BBW Shifter Women’s Fiction Short Stories)

by Rebecca Abbott

  “Okay,” Daisy said. “If it means you’ll leave me alone for the rest of the day, I’ll have a drink with you.”

  “Great. I’ll wait for you after work.”

  “Okay,” Daisy said.

  Dorian strolled back to his desk and sunk into his seat. For the rest of the day Daisy’s heart was pounding like a bongo. She truly did feel like a teenager again; she felt as though the angst and the uncertainty of those cruel years had come again and tackled her in her thirties. She even blushed when Angela asked her about it. She hadn’t blushed in years.

  And then five-thirty came – time for the date, if that was what it was – and she couldn’t fool herself any longer. This was real. This was happening.

  *****

  Dorian was waiting for her outside the call center. He smiled when she walked through the revolving doors. Angela said goodbye with a playful smirk on her face, and of course she couldn’t resist shooting off a wink as Daisy and Dorian walked down towards the other end of the street. The sun was still blaring down, compressed by the skyscrapers and the city air. Daisy took off her jacket and when Dorian offered to hold it for her she gave it to him without hesitation.

  They were silent for a few minutes, listening to the afternoon noise of the city, and then Daisy, unable to endure the oppressive silence any longer, had to speak. “Why were you so persistent?” she said. “I mean, you don’t know me. I don’t know you. I don’t see why you have to be so persistent.”

  “Then you clearly haven’t looked at yourself in the mirror,” Dorian said.

  Daisy laughed. It was funny. She didn’t think of herself as the sort of woman who merited such ham-fisted flattery. She was aging well(ish), it was true, and she was careful with her appearance, but she wasn’t super-model hot or anything, nothing like those airbrushed, rake-thin girls in the magazines men seemed so fond of these days. And she was nothing like those porn stars men seemed even fonder of nowadays. She realized Dorian was staring at her.

  “Yes?” she said, sounding indignant.

  “You weren’t talking.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  He smiled, his blue-white eyes glimmered, and then he nodded. “You’re strange,” he said. “But in a good way,” he added. “You’re strange, like a puzzle. You’re the sort of person I am drawn to. That is why I was so persistent. When I meet a person like you – which doesn’t happen very often – I have to know more about her. That is why I would’ve asked until the men in white coats dragged me away.”

  “I’m afraid you’re reading too much into me,” Daisy said. “I work in a call center. That is all.”

  “Hmm,” Dorian said, but let the matter drop.

  “Where are we going, anyway?” Daisy said, as they crossed the street.

  “There’s a bar a few blocks this way,” Dorian said. “They specialize in first dates: romantic lighting and all that.”

  “Is that what this is, then? A first date?”

  Dorian nodded. “I think so.”

  They said nothing more as they walked towards the bar. It was half-full with younger people dancing and getting way too drunk for this early on a Thursday evening. Dorian led her to a corner table and went to the bar. He returned with a couple of drinks: beer for him, vodka and coke for her. She sipped on her drink and looked across the table at him, through the flickering candle. The music played low in the background. It was not late enough yet for the thump-thump-thump that would soon take over.

  “So,” Dorian said. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “What is it you want to know?”

  “Everything, anything.”

  So Daisy told him about her divorces, about her love of reading, about the novel she’d started work on ten years ago and had never finished, or even returned to in two years. She told him about Angela and Jessica, and then she realized she had nothing else to say. She came to an awkward halt and then sipped her drink. Dorian smiled. Damn that smile, she thought. Damn that smile and the ludicrous power it is beginning to have over me. She found herself wishing Dorian was uglier. She would feel more comfortable then.

  They finished their drinks and Dorian went to get another round. That was when the other man walked into the bar. Right away Daisy could tell he was not part of the crowd of the bar. He was tall and muscular, like Dorian, but unlike Dorian he seemed to care little for his appearance. His black beard was thick and bushy, and his black hair hung around his shoulders, giving him the appearance of a caveman. He wore sweatpants and a white t-shirt with beat-up trainers. Daisy would usually disregard a man who dressed like that, but he had the rugged caveman thing working for him, and it seemed to fit.

  It was several moments before Daisy realized he was walking towards her table. He slumped down in Dorian’s seat. “Excuse me,” Daisy said, voice shaking for some reason unknown even to herself. Yeah right, an inner-voice said. The man did not even look up. “Excuse me,” Daisy said. “That seat is taken.”

  Dorian returned with the drinks—with three drinks. He placed a beer in front of the new man and handed Daisy the vodka and coke. “I see you’re being friendly,” he said to the man, as he sat down in a different seat.

  “I’m here,” the man said. His voice was the deepest voice Daisy had ever heard.

  “And what do you think?”

  To Daisy’s horror, the man turned and looked at her with appraising eyes, his eyes wondering over her body, her face. She saw that he had the same ice-blue eyes as Dorian. “Good,” the man said gruffly, and then downed half his drink in one gulp. He wiped the suds from his beard with the back of his hand.

  “Dorian,” Daisy said, struggling to keep her voice calm. “What the hell is going on? I’m about five seconds from leaving.”

  “This is my friend,” Dorian said. “Tooth.”

  “Tooth?” Daisy laughed. “What sort of name is that?”

  Tooth turned to her. “It is my name,” he said.

  “I thought he could join us,” Dorian said.

  “So this isn’t a date,” Daisy said.

  “It is,” Dorian said, “just with all three of us.”

  Daisy’s mouth fell open. She wasn’t—she couldn’t—she wouldn’t… She was not that kind of woman. She saw herself walking out of the bar away from these men and filing a complaint in work and never talking to either of them again. And then she opened her eyes – when had she closed them? – and she was still at the table, sitting across from the men. “What is this?” Daisy said.

  “I thought you might enjoy the pleasure of both of us,” Dorian said. “I asked Tooth here if he was willing. He said he’d come but if he didn’t like the look of you he’d walk out. He’s sitting, which for him is about as polite as it gets.”

  “I don’t—” began Daisy, but stopped. She was lost for words. She sipped her drink, then sipped some more. This was too strange, too messed up. Men didn’t just bring another man to a date. It was just too bizarre. And yet still she was sitting there, unmoving, and staring at these men. She knew that she should walk out, should retain her dignity while she still had it. And then she started questioning if it really was a question of dignity or—or what? Was she feeling this way – frightened, excited, dirty – because society had told her that girls who went on dates with two guys were cheap? After all, if she had been a man sitting with two women, would he not be a stud?

  “I’d like another drink,” she said.

  “I’ll get it,” Tooth said, in his deep voice.

  He moved with animal-like fluidity, as though every movement was a carefully rehearsed set piece. Dorian smiled at her when Tooth was at the bar. “I have frightened you,” Dorian said.

  “A little,” Daisy said. “Why couldn’t you just be upfront about it, if you wanted—this? And you need to know, whatever you think is happening tonight, I’m not, um, doing it with both of you. I’m happy to sit here and enjoy some drinks and conversation, but I’m not fucking the two of you. I’m not some ditzy college girl.”

 
; “That’s fine,” Dorian said. “We wouldn’t be sitting here if you would do that straightaway, anyway.”

  Tooth returned with the drinks and Daisy was about to sip hers before a thought occurred to her. She handed Dorian her drink and told him to take a sip. “You really think we’re that sort?” he said.

  “I don’t know what sort you are,” Daisy said, adamant. “Take a sip of the drink, please.”

  Dorian sipped one-quarter of the drink and then handed it back to her. Then he put his hand to his head. “Wooo!” he said. “I’m feeling groggy.” He collapsed onto the table, and then began to laugh. Tooth smiled. Daisy looked at them both, bemused, and then – she couldn’t stop herself – began to laugh with them.

  “So,” she said, “why do they call you Tooth?”

  “Oh, nothing special,” Tooth said. He showed her a pendant he was wearing around his neck: a large canine tooth. “I carry this around with me. That’s all.”

  “As you can probably guess, Tooth isn’t exactly the talkative type.”

  “Yeah,” Daisy said. “I see that.”

  They spent the rest of the evening like that: making awkward, stilted conversation. Daisy didn’t know why she stayed. But she couldn’t stop sweet, sick thoughts invading her mind. She thought about Tooth, and what an animal he must be—but no, you’re not that sort of girl, remember? You can’t think things like that. And then she started thinking about with one of them would be better at licking her out, and which one had the bigger cock, and which one, which one—oh, the perversity!

  They didn’t ask her to come home with them, which was a good thing. She hadn’t gotten laid in way too long, she decided. She was too horny and too drunk to make reasonable decisions about this sort of thing. They paid for her taxi, which was nice, and then she was in her apartment, door locked, alone and safe.

  She closed her eyes; she dreamed of Dorian and Tooth.

  *****

  She sat in the canteen with Angela. Dorian was two tables across, but – thankfully – he didn’t come and join them. Daisy was still confused about what had happened last night: wasn’t sure it was right; wasn’t sure what she was, now. She didn’t know if what she had done was okay or not, and then that angered her because—who was she supposed to be convincing? It didn’t matter to her, did it? She was too confused for all of this, too confused and a little offended. The least Dorian could have done was ask her before he brought another man on the date.

  She explained all this to Angela. When she was done Angela pursed her lips and nodded. “That is odd,” she said. “Why didn’t he just tell you? But they didn’t try anything, did they? They didn’t try to—you know?”

  “No,” Daisy said. “That’s what’s confusing me. But clearly they think I’m the sort of girl who will do something like that eventually. And do you want to know the really messed up part, Angela? I sort of want to do it. They’re so sexy, and I haven’t had it in so long. But I’m scared that if I do it, and people at work find out – if anyone finds out – it will completely ruin me. The men in the office are jerks enough as it is.”

  “That’s the same in every office, unfortunately,” Angela said. “I think men are just jerks everywhere.”

  “Hmm, maybe,” Daisy said. “But Dorian isn’t a jerk, and this Tooth guy. Angela, you should see him. He looks so—wild. He looks half-animal, but in a good way. Usually I like men who dress well and take care of themselves.”

  “Like Dorian?”

  Daisy nodded. “But this Tooth guy… somehow it works on him. I don’t know how. Maybe he’s magic.”

  “Ha-ha. Maybe they’re casting a spell on you right now.”

  Daisy laughed. Then Dorian walked by with his tray. “Hello, Daisy,” he said.

  “Hello, Dorian,” she said.

  He continued towards the exit.

  “Well,” Angela said. “That wasn’t awkward at all.”

  *****

  Later that day Dorian ran into her when she was on her way to the toilet: literally ran into her. She was turning a corner, walking too fast, trying to get back to her desk without the boss flipping out, and he was coming the other way. She stumbled and he caught her, preventing her from collapsing face-first into the floor. (What an impression that would make!) He smiled as he held her in his arms.

  “Careful, there,” he said.

  “I’m okay,” Daisy said, disentangling herself from his arms.

  He stood a foot back and regarded her with the same scrutiny with which a lion regards his kill: eyes hard, unflinching; body tensed, forward-leaning. What was worse, Daisy was finding she liked being looked at like that. It made her feel powerless and powerful at the same time; made her feel like she was part of something that transcended their boring office-work setting. She opened her mouth – perhaps meaning to say something witty – but nothing came out but a timid, “Thanks.”

  That’s right, she thought. Just mutter thanks like some kind of teenage girl. Seriously, nearly-forty-year-old Daisy, what’s happened to you? Have you gone all Benjamin Button? Is that it? And that would work, wouldn’t it, because you like to boast about that fact that it was a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald first; and that gives you some sick sense of superiority. She cleared her throat, and was about to nudge around Dorian when he stepped to the side, blocking her path.

  “Come for a walk with me,” he said. “After work, come for a walk with me.”

  “Right, so you can drug me and take me to your dungeon?”

  “What do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know what you are. That’s sort of the point. If I knew you – if I knew anything about you – I wouldn’t have to make these snarky comments. Believe me, usually I’m above that. But if a stranger tries to get me into some porn scenario—office worker tricked into threesome, or whatever depravity the internet is currently offering men—what am I supposed to do? Just accept it as the norm and say how-do-you-do, etc., etc.? No, no, my newfound friend, I think I’ll err on the side of over-the-top caution of this one.”

  “Hmm,” Dorian said. “I don’t know what to say in the face of such verbal rapid fire.”

  “Well, then…” Daisy nudged around him, and walked away, throwing a brief glance back. “Maybe you’ll just have to say nothing.”

  Daisy returned to her desk with a growing sense of victory, and in her mind she imagined herself being held over a crowd of cheering people: all screaming her name; all so proud that she had rebounded Doran’s dastardly dance of devotion; all screaming she did it, she did it, she doesn’t need him! So why did she feel such a throb in her chest when Dorian walked past her desk and smiled at her? Was there something in that smile? Something gravitational, something magnetic, something, something—

  She sighed and lost herself in the humdrum phone fun for the next few hours. When work was over Dorian approached her desk and sat down opposite her as she was cleaning away the last of her things. He laid his palms down on the desk and smiled at her. “Look,” he said. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. I’m sorry if I offended you. But I promise you, I’m not trying anything sneaky. I only wondered whether, well, whether you were curious. And that was all. There was nothing, um, predatory going on. I would never do anything without your permission.”

  “And what is it exactly that you want to do, anyway?” Daisy said, heart thump-thump-thumping.

  “Oh, lots of things,” Dorian said casually. “But why would I want to ruin the surprise by telling you? No, Daisy, if you want to find out, you will just have to wait and play the game.”

  “And what game is that?”

  “The game where you spend more time with me and Tooth.”

  “Tooth.” Daisy grimaced. That animal-like ruggedness, those tight, honed muscles, those white-blue eyes, that thick black beard and shaggy, wild, untamed black hair. “Seriously, what sort of name is Tooth?”

  “A strange one,” Dorian admitted. “But there it is.”

  “Fine, fine,” Daisy said, letting her
tongue run ahead of her mind. “But I want to spend time with just you for a bit. Okay?”

  Dorian nodded. “That works for me.”

  “Then we’ll see about Tooth,” she said. She was not ready to discard him altogether. There was too much potential in him for that.

  “Then we’ll see about Tooth,” he agreed.

  “So,” Daisy said, rising from her desk. “What is it you want to do?”

  “How about a walk around the park?”

  “I smell ten-o-clock news material,” Daisy said. “How about we go for coffee instead?”

  Dorian grinned. “Okay, coffee. But how do you know I won’t spike your latté with the apparently endless supply of date-rape drugs I obviously keep in my date-rape-drug warehouse?”

  “Do you think that’s funny?” Daisy snapped.

  Without answering, Dorian got to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on, then,” he said.

  Daisy ignored the hand and walked by him and towards the door. “You come on,” she called over her shoulder.

  *****

  They walked through the city as the sun bathed it in pre-evening light. A group of children darted between the pedestrians, screaming It-It, and then tagging each other. Daisy and Dorian weaved through the ever-growing throng and found a coffee shop a few blocks from work. Daisy ordered a latté – as a sort of homage to Dorian’s misjudged joke – and Dorian ordered a coke. They sat at the window and for a few minutes simply watched the world go by.

  “So,” Daisy said, mind always racing, pouncing, never satisfied to sit still. “So, Dorian, what’s your favorite book?”

  Dorian shrugged. “It’s hard to pick just one,” he said. “Do you read a lot?”

  Daisy sipped her latté. Oh, how sophisticated I feel! “Yes,” Daisy said. “To be honest, I’ll have to give away some books soon. My apartment is getting a bit cluttered.”

  “What’s your favorite book?”

  “The Beautiful and the Damned,” Daisy said.