by Kate Hill
“It’s just fact. I have more experience.”
“In everything?”
“Most likely.”
An idea struck her. “Do you shoot pool, Master?”
“Of course.”
“Then I challenge you to a game.”
“Why?”
I want to put you in your place for once, you big windbag, she thought, but instead she smiled sweetly and said, “Because it would be fun.”
“It would be a waste of time.”
“Not if we play for something we both want.”
“What could you possibly have that I want?”
“Well, of all the insulting --”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“All right. You do have something I want. When I win, I want you to end this sort of foolishness.”
“What foolishness?”
“This childish behavior that incites you to challenge me. Maybe then you’ll be able to concentrate better in class.”
“All right. If I lose, I’ll never challenge you again.”
“Excellent.” He took his swords and started walking away.
“Wait! I didn’t tell you what I want if I win.”
He turned to her with an indulgent look. “Of course. What would you like?”
“I would like you to do anything I ask you to.”
“Any one thing?”
“Yes.”
“And it will not be something inappropriate.”
She touched a hand to her breast. “Who me? Of course not.”
“Not that I’m concerned. Billiards is an old and respected sport at which I am proficient.”
“Oh, I tremble with fear.” She bowed deeply, unable to keep the smile from her face, then she thought of something and her good humor faded. “Of course you won’t be allowed to use mind control of any kind. This is strictly skill against skill.”
He raised his eyes to heaven. “As if I would resort to mind control over a foolish game. I’m assuming you will arrange for witnesses?”
“Don’t you trust me? I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t trust anyone, Ms. Travers. I will ask Onan and his wife to observe the game.”
“You must be pretty old to be this cynical.”
“When should this match take place?”
“I get off work around two. Let’s say we meet in the game room at three.”
He nodded and strode out of the basement.
A grin tugged at Alana’s lips. She didn’t care how good he was at billiards. This time she had no doubt she would finally get the better of the ice vamp.
Chapter Five
At three o’clock, Disdain stepped into the game room at Burgundy Peak. Onan sat on a stool by one of the three pool tables, Elizabeth on his knee. Speaking in whispers, the two gazed at one another. Disdain noted that Onan’s usually stony expression softened slightly when he spoke to his wife.
“Has Ms. Travers decided not to show up after all?” Disdain asked.
“She’ll be here,” Elizabeth replied, tossing her long, reddish hair over her shoulder.
Onan pushed the wavy tendrils from his face. “Be careful, woman, or I will shave off your mane.”
“I doubt that.” She turned to him, grinning. “There are certain things I do with this mane that you enjoy too much to give up.”
Onan growled. “Silence. Respect is a lesson we still must work on.”
Giggling, she kissed his cheek.
Sickened by their affectionate display, Disdain turned toward the door. He folded his arms across his chest and waited impatiently for Alana. The sooner they began, the sooner this foolishness would be over and the young vampiress put, yet again, in her place.
Finally Alana strolled into the room. She was dressed entirely in black, from the stretchy top that hugged her shapely torso to the flowing skirt with slits that exposed her gorgeous legs with every step. A gold pocket book dangled from one of her creamy shoulders. Her natural, sexy scent mingled with the sweet aroma of her perfume.
Disdain’s pulse quickened at the sight of her. To his dismay, his cock swelled, trapped uncomfortably behind his zipper. He gritted his teeth, disgusted by his physical reaction to her, and took control of himself.
“You’re late, Ms. Travers.”
“This isn’t one of your classes, Master Disdain. I had to clean up after work and make myself presentable.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s a woman, sir,” Elizabeth replied. “And that is a good enough reason for you.”
“Let’s just get on with it,” Disdain snapped. “Since you are undoubtedly a woman, Ms. Travers, you may break. Ladies first.”
Alana smiled, her eyes gleaming. “You are too kind, Master.”
A grunt from Onan drew Disdain’s attention. If he didn’t know better, he might have thought the man’s normally unchanging expression had morphed to one of amusement.
It took little time for him to realize that Onan had been amused -- at his expense.
Why had Disdain been foolish enough to insist on “ladies first”?
After a remarkably good break, Alana had continued dominating the game.
“So, you are good at billiards?” She smiled, walking around the table to line up her shot at the eight.
“If I ever get the chance to shoot,” Disdain muttered.
“Eight ball in the side,” she said, bending in front of him to take aim. Her skirt draped her backside and one of the slits exposed a good deal of her thigh. Though he longed to slap her for her arrogance, he was possessed by the almost overwhelming urge to lick and kiss every inch of her.
After making her shot and winning the first game, she straightened, a smile on her lips exposing the tips of her fangs. “We said five games, right?”
Disdain curled his lip. “We did.”
“Don’t worry, then. You still have a chance.”
Elizabeth giggled and even Onan looked too pleased for Disdain’s taste. No wonder. Any student he had ever taught would probably love to see him suffer humiliation of any kind, but only these three were getting the privilege.
After she won the second game, during which Disdain at least got to shoot, he glanced suspiciously at Onan and Elizabeth.
“I’m guessing you both knew how well she plays?”
“Yes, but she is only a very young vampire,” Elizabeth said, her expression innocent. “A man of your age and experience should be superior in everything.”
Turning to Alana, Disdain asked, “How did you learn how to play so well?”
“My father owned a pool room. That’s where I met Stella. After he died, she and I took the place over.”
“I see. Shall we continue?”
“You bet.” She swept by him, her scent intoxicating him. The brush of her skirt against his hand actually made his insides tighten with desire. “You know, you’re way too uptight… Master.”
“Self control is an art to be perfected, Ms. Travers. Once you master it, you might have a chance of getting through my class.”
“And if you learned to loosen up a little, you might have a chance of winning this game.”
This woman had changed from mildly annoying to completely insufferable. If she did happen to win their bet, he inwardly cringed at what she might demand of him. No doubt it would be something stupid, humiliating, and completely inappropriate.
By four o’clock, Alana had won their wager. While she and Elizabeth laughed and cheered over her win like a couple of schoolchildren, Onan at least had the dignity to appear unaffected, though Disdain knew he was just as happy as the women over his former teacher’s defeat.
“What are you going to make him do?” Elizabeth asked.
“Elizabeth, this is no longer our affair.” Onan took his wife’s arm and tugged her toward the door.
“We need to make sure he doesn’t try to get away without paying.”
“That’s all right.” Alana held Dis
dain’s gaze. “He’s a man of honor. I trust him to pay up.”
Elizabeth glanced at them, but didn’t speak again. She followed Onan out of the room.
Disdain folded his arms across his chest, staring hard at Alana. “What will it be? Two thousand push-ups? Walk naked through the club while carrying a kick me sign? Drink poison?”
“Wow. You must think I’m a bitch.”
“No, but everyone considers me a bastard, therefore I’m sure you’ll take full advantage of this situation. Just remember, whatever you do to me, I will repay you in full.”
She smiled broadly and stepped so close they were almost touching. “Really? I’ll keep that in mind. For what I want, we’re better off in private. Your room or mine?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your room or mine.”
“Do you intend to demand sexual favors?”
“You wish,” she scoffed, sauntering toward the door. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Are you coming?”
That was a loaded question. Sighing, he followed her.
“Let’s make it your room,” she said.
“What is it you want me to do?”
“I’ll let you know when we get there.”
Moments later, they arrived in his room.
“Why don’t you take a shower?”
“Is that what you want me to do?”
“You mean for the bet? No. It’s just a suggestion because a warm shower would set the mood for what I do want.”
“I thought you said --”
“Don’t worry, Master, I’m not going to ask for anything inappropriate.”
He strode to the bathroom, slammed the door shut, and undressed. The quicker he did what she wanted, the sooner he’d be rid of her.
Glancing at his erection, he scowled. How could he be so attracted to such an annoying young woman?
For several seconds, Alana stared at the bathroom door, her hands trembling. She scarcely believed she had the nerve to go this far with her plan to learn more about Disdain.
Though she had experience in seducing mortal donors, she had never initiated a relationship with a vampire male. Now that she’d finally found one who interested her, why did he have to be as ancient as Master Zigor and even more uptight than Onan?
When she gazed into his stern eyes and recalled the harsh way he spoke to just about everybody, she wondered if piercing his armor was possible. Maybe she had misread him entirely. Perhaps there was nothing more to him than what he showed to the world, but deep inside she didn’t believe that.
Closing her eyes, she could almost feel herself wrapped in his protective embrace, just like when he’d carried her to her room last week.
The sound of water running in the shower nudged her from her daydream. She slipped off her shoes and searched through her pocket book for a bottle of sandalwood scented massage lotion, which she placed on the night table.
Sitting on the bed, she glanced around the room. Strangely, Disdain seemed to have few personal items. As a housekeeper, she usually found that people who occupied their room for long periods of time had at the very least one or two photos, books, or knickknacks. Disdain was neat, especially compared to most of the male guests she picked up after. Most likely all of his belongings were inside the dresser and closet.
The water stopped running in the bathroom and Alana tensed. Next came the hum of a hairdryer. She waited for what seemed like forever before the door finally opened and Disdain, wearing nothing but black jogging pants, stepped out. The sight of his slim yet powerful body was enough to make her breath catch. From biceps to wrist, both of his sinewy arms were covered with decorative scarring in the shape of flowers and flames. She knew the designs had been created by silver, since it was the only substance that caused permanent scarring on vampires. She shuddered to think of how painful the process must have been. Alana had never understood why some vampires chose to endure silver poisoning for what they considered aesthetic purposes.
Silently, he walked toward her. She almost wanted to run from his frigid gaze.
“Shall we get this over with?”
“Did you ever think you might like what I have in mind?”
“I seriously doubt it.”
She stood and slipped by him, her breasts brushing his bare chest. Damn, he had gorgeous pecs and abs that even a gymnast would kill for.
Pointing to the bed, she said, “Get on your stomach.”
“That’s all you want me to do?”
She sighed, exasperated. “I guess you want me to spell out exactly what I want from you?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to let me give you a massage.”
“Come again?”
“Funny, Master, I thought you were a smart man. What part of massage should I explain?”
“Don’t be a smart ass. Don’t you think it’s rather pathetic to get a man into bed by cheating him at pool?”
“Beating him, not cheating him, and don’t flatter yourself. I have no intention of sleeping with you. I’m doing this because I want to help you.”
He laughed without a trace of humor. “Help me?”
“Yeah. You’re the most uptight person I’ve ever met.”
“Oh, so this massage is supposed to be for my benefit? If that’s the case then choose something else because I am not uptight and I do not need a massage from you.”
“Are you refusing to pay up when I won fair and square?”
A muscle twitched in his cheek before he dropped stomach-down on the bed.
Controlling her anger about his obvious lack of enthusiasm, she told herself she had finally learned something intimate about him. He had a sense of honor. Though unaccustomed to obeying orders, he would fulfill his obligations, such as their bet.
If she found he truly could not abide her touch, she would give up her pursuit. After all, she did have some pride, even if she was testing it by pushing herself on a man with no obvious interest in her.
“Are you going to do it or not?” he asked.
She sat on the edge of the bed and swept his hair away from his neck. Unable to resist, she ran her hands through the thick black tendrils. She brushed it off his forehead and temples, watching it slide through her fingers.
“You have the prettiest hair. It’s like silk.”
He didn’t respond, so she removed her hands from his head. After pouring lotion into her palms, she rubbed them together to warm it. All the while his eyes stared, unblinking, at the wall.
She touched her hands to the back of his neck and rubbed gently, her thumbs massaging in circles before she moved to his shoulders. Every muscle was knotted and tight. She sensed he was holding himself stiffly, whether intentionally or not she couldn’t decide. If his reaction was instinctive, she wondered how a man this tense had mastered mind control techniques and meditation.
Rubbing her way down one of his arms, she began to study his scarring carefully, noting each of the designs was created by dots from a needle. There were hundreds, most of them tiny as pinpricks. Only the centers of the flowers were larger. Some of the scarring appeared newer than others. Obviously it was an ongoing project.
She poured more lotion into her hands and continued kneading his shoulders. When she was just about ready to give up, she glanced at his face and noticed his eyes were half closed. With each slow blink his lids seemed to lower even more.
An excited feeling fluttered in her belly. So she was making progress after all.
She swept her palms across his shoulders, then began caressing the broad expanse of his back in gentle circles. He drew a deep breath and released it slowly, the tension seeming to drain from his body. His eyes closed and an almost imperceptible moan escaped his lips.
Alana smiled, running her fingertips over his ribs. Finally, she reached his lower back and placed her palms against it, pressing and stroking. This was far more arousing than she had imagined. His body was the epitome of male beauty. Lean, muscular, and exquisitely proportioned.
>
She swallowed hard since her mouth had gone dry. Using her thumbs, she massaged his lower back deeply. Bewitched by passion, she bent and touched her lips to the base of his spine and kissed her way up to his nape.
He moaned again, louder this time, and shifted his position slightly.
Closing her eyes, Alana kissed the side of his neck and ran her tongue over his smooth flesh, relishing his taste and scent. Her nipples hardened and her clit throbbed with desire. The urge to taste his blood almost overtook her.
He rolled over and grasped her upper arms, dragging her atop him.
A fierce look shone in his eyes. His lips were parted, his breathing ragged.
Alana’s heart pounded. For a moment she wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss or kill her. Dragging her even closer, he covered her lips with his.
She clung to him, relishing the softness of his warm, moist kiss. One of her legs slid between his. His erection pressed against her, pushing her desire to fevered heights. She was just about to bite his lip when he jerked her slightly away, his gaze locked on hers.
“I want to fuck you, Alana, and I don’t need to read your mind to know that you want the same.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“I have one rule. No biting.”
His words shocked her. Wrinkling her nose, she asked, “What kind of a vampire doesn’t want to bite when he’s making love?”
“The kind of vamp who’s about to dedicate this night to giving you all the pleasure you can handle, but only if you swear there will be no exchange of blood between us.”
“May I ask why?”
“No.”
“Biting is fun.”
“If you can’t handle my request, then get out of my bed.” He released her abruptly.
Pissed off, she stood. “If that’s what you want.”
“That’s not what I want. I told you what I want. To make love with you, but without biting.”
Turning to him, she held his gaze, seeing her own desire reflected at her. He had a problem with biting. Very strange. Still, she’d known he wasn’t an average vampire when she decided to pursue him.
“All right.” She climbed back onto the bed. “No biting.”
He grasped her and positioned her beside him. Leaning on his elbow, he stared down at her and gently traced the shape of her breasts with his fingertips. His thumb teased one of her nipples through her dress. Within seconds the hard nub pressed against the fabric.
