e.Vampire.com

by Scarlet Black

  She padded around the apartment in a daze, wearing her ridiculously unsexy Tasmanian devil slippers and a tattered old tee shirt. She went into the kitchen, opened the fridge and took out a full box of Drakes Funny Bones, went to the DVD player and popped in The Bridges of Madison County. Terms of Endearment, Beaches and Love Story were stacked next to the player ready to go.

  She wrapped her afghan around her and sat with a box of tissues and the junk food, intending to have a good old fashioned pity party.

  Her cell phone blinked annoyingly, letting her know she had messages. She ignored it. Then, the texting began. It was Julie. Just checking in. Are you OK?

  Jennifer didn’t reply.

  Jen please text or call me back or I’m coming over!

  Jennifer sighed. May as well text her back or I’ll have no peace.

  Yeah, I’m fine. Just going to chill out today. Talk later. She didn’t want to let on that she was emotionally shattered by both Dorian Taylor and his stupid company’s rejections.

  The text sounded again. I was worried about you after that rude prick blew you off like that. Glad you’re okay. The hell with Dorian Taylor!

  Apparently, Julie knew what she was feeling and why.

  Thanks Julie. See you on Monday. She added a little smiley face to appease her. There. That would stop any further texts. And it did. Now back to the party.

  She was half-way through her third Funny Bone, sobbing at the scene in which Meryl Streep was sitting in the truck with her husband, her hand on the door handle. Knowing her one true love was waiting for her to make a decision. Would she go away with him or stay in her marriage? She lets go of the handle, weeping and watches the love of her life leave forever. Jennifer sobbed at the scene. She always did, no matter how many times she watched it.

  The sound of the doorbell caught her off guard. She ignored it. Again it rang, and yet again. Still she didn’t answer. Finally, whoever was out there began knocking on the door and wouldn’t stop.

  “Go away!” she shouted through her sobs. The mascara from the previous night had pooled under her eyes, making her look like a raccoon. She didn’t care who it was. She wasn’t letting them in.

  She heard a muffled male voice. “Ms. Reese. It’s Ian Devereaux. I have an important delivery for you. Please, it’s urgent.”

  Ian Devereaux was standing outside her door. What in hell was he doing here? Oh my God, they’ve come for the mask! She thought. But he’d said he was delivering something.

  “Just leave it at the door and I’ll get it later.” She didn’t budge.

  “Sorry. I can’t do that. I have strict orders from Mr. Taylor to deliver this to you in person.”

  Something from Dorian Taylor? Just hearing his name caused her heart to quicken. What was it about that guy that made her blood feel as if it was on fire?

  “Give me a minute.” Jennifer flew off the couch, brushed at her tangled hair and quickly threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top.

  She was completely surprised when she opened the door. Ian held an enormous bouquet of the most beautiful roses she’d ever seen.

  “These are for you.” He handed them to her.

  Her mouth opened in utter shock, tentatively, she smelled the flower’s powerful aroma.

  “Those are a very rare species of rose,” Ian said.

  He also gave her a small white envelope with her name written out in long hand. The penmanship was impeccable.

  “Please open it, Ms. Reese.”

  Her hands trembled as she opened an invitation from him.

  Dear Ms. Reese,

  First allow me to apologize for my abrupt departure last evening. I could tell you something came up, but I offer no excuse for my rude behavior. Please accept this invitation to dine with me this evening at 8:00 pm. I shall send a driver to pick you up. I hope you enjoy the roses. I chose them because I found them as rare and beautiful as I find you.

  Sincerely,

  Dorian Taylor

  Wow, as rare and beautiful as he finds me! Although, she was still angry with him (just a little) she didn’t kid herself. She was definitely going tonight.

  She buried her face in the roses, dreaming of what might happen tonight. She was nervous, excited and even a little scared.

  “Uh-hum.” Ian cleared his throat as if to remind her he still existed.

  “I’m sorry, Ian. Where are my manners? Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”

  “No thank you, Ma’am. I have to report back to Mr. Taylor as soon as you accept the invitation.”

  “How did he know I’d accept?”

  “Because if you didn’t, I’d be standing here until you did.” He smiled that disarming smile of his.

  “Geez, do you do everything at that company? Aren’t you the CFO? And now you’re running errands. Don’t you ever sleep?”

  He shrugged “That’s my official title, but I’m also Mr. Taylor’s personal assistant.”

  “So, what should I wear tonight? The invitation doesn’t say where we’ll be going.”

  “I’d suggest something informal.”

  “Are we going somewhere on the beach?”

  “No. You will be joining Mr. Taylor for dinner at his home this evening.”

  Chapter 8

  At 7:30 pm, a shiny, black stretch limo parked outside. Jennifer watched from the window where she’d been standing for the last hour, that was when she wasn’t running to the bathroom to check her hair, make-up and dress.

  After trying on virtually everything in her closet, she’d finally chosen a pale green sun dress, simple gold loop earrings and dark green, bejeweled sandals. Her bed was littered with clothes and accessories.

  As expected, Ms. Prudinsky made snarky comments about Jennifer’s behavior. “You’re a sap, a silly girl acting like a love sick teen-ager. The man humiliates you and still you go running, no chasing after him like a bitch in heat. Show some dignity!”

  “Just shut up. I’m going to enjoy every minute of this night,” Jennifer muttered aloud. God, the woman, who was in reality nothing more than her subconscious was annoying.

  The driver got out. She’d expected Ian, but it was another man, a refined looking blond.

  She restrained herself from rushing to the car. It was pretty damn difficult. Within the hour, she’d be in the same room with the man of her dreams.

  The limo driver was silent during the entire ride, which suited Jennifer just fine. She thought of what she’d say and how she’d act in Dorian’s presence.

  When they pulled into the enormous peach and cream paved driveway, Jennifer felt extremely anxious. The house was a rambling, multi-story Mediterranean style mansion. The walls were an elegant pale sea-shell color, complete with a balcony and a terra-cotta tile roof. She saw the ocean glittering in the moonlight on both sides of the house.

  There was no property close enough to obstruct the magnificent view. Of course, he’d own an ocean front property. He’s filthy rich! Two massive queen palms stood on each side of the entryway, illuminated by soft green lighting. Birds of paradise, hibiscus, and all manner of tropical plants adorned the sides. Soft white lights ran along the front and sides of the house.

  Dorian Taylor stood waiting in the large open foyer as the chauffeur helped her out of the limo and led her to him.

  “Ms. Reese. I’m pleased you accepted my invitation.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Please come in.” He extended his hand to her and she took it, marveling at the feel of his skin against hers.

  He was dressed in a tight black tee-shirt, low waist blue jeans and was barefoot. The contrast between the black shirt, his icy blue eyes and the shine of his unruly black hair was completely stunning. Hmm . . . black hair and blue eyes. God certainly knew what he was doing when he’d created that combination, thought Jennifer. If it was possible, he looked even better than he had in the stylish suit he’d worn last night.

  They walked into a massive front room. The floor was laid with black and white terraz
zo. High above her head, was a multi-tiered, shimmering, crystal chandelier and everywhere there was plants and statues, all manner of artwork, ornately carved marble and wood tables which held various lamps, all giving off the same light glow. Jennifer was awestruck by it all. That she was here in this virtual Heaven with this God of a man was unreal.

  “How do you like my humble home?” He smiled, revealing dimples below his exquisitely chiseled cheekbones. His teeth were white and perfect.

  “It’s lovely. Thank you for inviting me.” She tried to keep her voice calm, as if she went to places like this all the time and was in the company of men like him on a regular basis.

  Unfortunately, she heard a tremble in her voice and was sure he’d heard it too.

  He led her to a room at the back of the house. She gasped when she saw the panoramic view. The entire rear wall was made of glass. The view of the ocean was breathtaking.

  “Please, sit down and make yourself at home. Can I get you a drink? Perhaps a glass of wine? I have a fine Merlot you might enjoy.”

  “That would be nice.” She sat in one of the two wicker chairs closest to the window and gazed out at the ocean. The peaks of the surf glittered in the moonlight.

  “Dinner will be ready within the hour. My chef is preparing it as we speak.”

  She watched him walk out of the room in that confident, graceful and utterly sexy way in which he moved.

  He came back with two goblets of wine, handed her one and sat on the wicker love seat up against the side wall, facing the middle of the room. “Come, sit with me.”

  She sat next to him on the small love seat. They were so close their thighs touched. He put one arm around the back of the couch and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. She was so nervous. She sipped her wine without looking at him. Gently, he moved sideways, put his drink down, took hers as well and put them on the end table.

  “Look at me.” His voice was soft and direct. He crooked his index finger under her chin, tilting her head so she had to look directly into his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. His gaze was so intense. God! He held her completely spellbound with those eyes.

  He reached up and stroked her long loose hair. “I like your hair like this. It feels like silk running through my fingers. You should wear it this way all the time.”

  She mumbled a thank you.

  “You’re so quiet Ms. Reese. Are you still angry with me about last night?”

  Somehow, she finally found her voice, forcing her mind away from the not so proper thoughts she was having about Dorian Taylor at the moment.

  Ms. Prudinsky must be pulling her hair out right now, that’s how wicked her thoughts were.

  “Yes, but just a little. Why did you leave me there like that? And then all of a sudden I get these incredible flowers and the invitation to come here. I’m . . . a little confused by it all.”

  “I’m truly sorry for leaving when I did. A matter came up that required my immediate attention. I invited you here because I really did want to get to know you better.”

  She took her glass of wine off the table and sipped it. The more she drank, the braver she became. She wanted to know just what it was about her he found so interesting. After all, every woman in that room last night had been gawking at him.

  “Why me? I mean, you could have any woman on the planet. You know that right?”

  “Because, I think you’re different. I saw your profile picture and you looked so innocent, without guile. I don’t think you play coy games as so many women do. And . . . you didn’t accept Erik’s invitation to dance.” His voice was soft and serious.

  “Erik?” she asked.

  “The blonde man who asked you to dance. Didn’t you find him attractive? No woman has ever said no to him.”

  “How did you know . . . ?”

  “I just do.”

  She looked down. “He was okay I guess.” But he wasn’t you, she thought.

  “To answer your question further there are many things a man can have but that doesn’t mean he wants them. Don’t sell yourself short Ms. Reese. You’re a very beautiful woman and I have a feeling you’re warm and loving as well.” He took her hand in his and again, she felt his long fingers move up and down her palm slowly. She found it amazing that such a delicate touch could be so sensual, almost erotic.

  Just then, the chef came into the room and announced dinner was ready.

  “Thank you Enrique,” Dorian said warmly.

  Dorian escorted her to the dining room. Such a big house for one person, she thought.

  He held out a chair for her and she sat down. Wow, when was the last time a guy had done that?

  “Where’s your staff? With a house this big, you must have maids and stuff.”

  “I’ve given them the night off. After Enrique serves us, he will leave as well. It will be just the two of us.” The look in his eyes made her both uneasy and excited.

  “What about Ian? Isn’t he your personal assistant? Does he live here?”

  He cocked his head to one side and smiled. “You’re just full of questions Ms. Reese. Ian lives in the guesthouse. He’s out for the evening with your friend, Julie.”

  “More wine, Miss?” Enrique held a full bottle of merlot wrapped in a white linen cloth.

  “Yes. Please.”

  “That will be your last drink Ms. Reese. I don’t want you drunk tonight.”

  What a control freak! She thought. Who was he to tell her how much to drink? She had no idea why, but she chose to obey him.

  She nodded. “Call me Jen. It feels weird for you to call me Ms. Reese, like I’m your secretary or something.”

  “I shall call you Jennifer. Jen is too common for you. The name Jennifer has a lovely sound to it. Don’t you agree?”

  She nodded. Especially when you say it with that sexy British accent, she thought.

  The dining room table was set with the finest white bone china, exquisite crystal and gold forks, spoons and knives. A white linen napkin was set at each place. Skilled hands had created elegant fans of them. The table cloth was a stunning pale blue. A chandelier, made to appear as if it held real candles hung above the table. It created a warm ambiance.

  They sat in silence as Jennifer placed her napkin in her lap and fidgeted with it. When she looked up, his eyes were on her, smoldering with intensity.

  Her heart raced, her palms and the back of her neck were sweaty and she felt sure she was blushing. She was no longer hungry, at least not for food.

  “So, tell me Dorian, if I’m so special, then why was my application to e.Vampire.com rejected?”

  He seemed to ponder this for a moment before answering. His eyes were locked on hers. It really was unnerving the way he looked at her. She squirmed under his penetrating gaze.

  “I find you intriguing Jennifer. I personally rejected your application because I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

  “Oh.” That’s all she could think of to say. She bowed her head.

  “Don’t look down. It’s a sign of submission. I want you to look at me whenever we speak to one another.”

  “Submission. Hmm. I assumed that’s what you wanted when you told me I couldn’t drink any more tonight.”

  “You’re special. I’ve had many women who we’re willing to do whatever I wanted. I don’t want that from you. At least not in the way you may think.” His tone was calm, yet she detected a slight threat in it.

  Just what the hell did that mean?

  Jennifer was at a loss here. Many women he’d said. Just how many had he been with? She’d only had one lover, and a crappy one at that. She was very uneasy with the direction in which this conversation was heading. She changed the subject.

  “Does your family live here in Miami?” she asked.

  “My parents are dead.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

  “It’s alright Jennifer.” He shrugged. “They died a long time ago.”

  “Do you have any brothers and sisters?”

>   “I had a sister.” His voice grew solemn and he looked away from her for a moment. His eyes came back to hers, but this time, she detected a deep sadness in them. “She’s gone too. She died young.”

  Jennifer was unsure of what to say. His entire family was gone. So was hers. Her heart went out to him then. For just a flicker of a moment, he’d bared his emotions to her. He regained his composure quickly.

  “And you, Jennifer? What about your family?” he asked politely.

  “My father passed away recently and my mother died a while back. I’m an only child.”

  “So you left Maine for a new start here in Miami.” He didn’t ask. He stated it.

  “Yes.” She looked away from him. “How did you know I was from Maine?”

  “It was on your e.Vampire profile.”

  “Oh.” Just how many times have I said oh? She felt tongue tied around him.

  Thankfully, Enrique breezed silently into the room and laid a basket of piping hot rolls in front of her.

  She picked one up and picked pieces off it, popping them into her mouth; a lifelong habit which her mother had detested.

  “There’s a knife in front of you.” He studied her with those eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Dorian. My mother always said I had no manners when it came to eating biscuits and cakes.” Embarrassed, she was sure she was blushing profusely.

  “I don’t care if you use a knife or not. Watching you nibble on that biscuit is making me want to do things to your mouth.”

  She felt her heart leap into her throat. She began to squirm in her chair. The sexual tension at that table was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

  “What sort of things do you want to do to my mouth?” She mumbled; looking down and then remembering, he wanted to her to maintain eye contact with him at all times.

  “I want to nibble on your lips, the same way you’re nibbling on that biscuit. I want to devour your mouth.”

  “Oh.”

  “I want to fuck it as well.”