NightFall (NightFall: Book One)

by Anastacia Kelley

  Saldivar gritted his teeth and groaned, feeling her hardened nipples caress him on the way up.

  Still behind him, Indea wrapped her arms around his waist. Her hands began rubbing his flat belly then up to his hard chest. She squeezed his nipples, teased them before dropping her left hand to palm his manhood.

  Saldivar didn’t think he could get any harder. He guessed anything was possible at this point. He turned his head slightly and narrowed his eyes into slits of desire. He barely smiled. He was too aroused to do much more.

  Indea thought he looked dangerously sexy. He looked like such a bad boy with his molten amber eyes narrowed and his jaw rigid, looking as if he could devour her at any given moment. She would gladly lie on a silver platter surrounded by grapes if he asked her.

  Well, Indea was going to be the one feasting on him. Every hard inch of him. She turned him around and guided him backward. She pushed him onto the bed, his arousal obvious as he lay sprawled on back. He thought he would be too big for her. He didn’t want to hurt her. But when she smiled, he knew that she trusted him to be gentle.

  Indea crawled slowly, cat-like, to him, tasting him as she went. Nibbling his toes. Kissing his feet. Running her lips up his shins. Licking his inner thighs. Her lips hovered over his hard shaft. She licked the tip lightly then blew warmly over it, teasing him.

  Saldivar jumped. He nearly hit the ceiling when she flicked her tongue over the tip. His breath shuttered. His stomach tightened.

  He let out a guttural, primitive growl when she took the entire length of him into her velvety, warm mouth.

  Oh, yes. He’d died and gone to heaven. He didn’t know how much more he could take of her hot mouth moving up and down on him like that, milking him toward ecstasy. Before he lost control, he sat up, grabbed her shoulders, and put her on her back.

  He took one perfect, creamy mound in his hand, massaging it tenderly, taking care to run his thumb across one puckered nipple.

  Indea bit down on her lower lip and moaned deeply in pleasure. She let out an audible sigh when he took that perfect nub into his mouth and suckled it. He glided his tongue across it, then blew a slight puff of air on it, loving the sight of it tighten even more. After he was satisfied with that breast, he turned his full attention to the other breast and did the same.

  His tongue then took a detour to trace a fiery path down to her navel. He circled it with the tip of his warm, wet tongue before moving his mouth lower. His tongue stroked the wet center of her heat. Indea sucked in a sharp breath and bit her bottom lip once more.

  Saldivar palmed each bended knee and pushed, opening Indea wider. He plunged his tongue deep into her core, loving the taste of her. Indea grabbed the sheets in a white-knuckled grip, her head moving side to side in a pleasurable torture, her breath coming in short pants.

  Indea’s legs trembled at his ministrations. Her body exploded around him. She cried out his name in total breathlessness. But she had no time to recover. She didn’t really want it to ever stop, but didn’t know if she could take much more.

  Saldivar then quickly sheathed himself and moved over her but Indea smiled a cunning little smile and shook her head.

  Saldivar raised his eyes in question but Indea kept silent.

  Indea moved him onto his back then straddled his hips and Saldivar grinned, for he never had a woman take such aggressiveness with him during love making. He relished in this. He could get used to it really quickly. He found he like to relinquish this kind of control given he had to keep everything else about his life under such strict restraint.

  Indea lifted up over him, but did not sink down on him just yet. It was clear, however, the anticipation was killing them.

  Indea grabbed one of his hands and placed it upon her breast. The other hand, she brought to her mouth to suck on his fingers. She put her fingers on his mouth for him to lavish as well.

  After what seemed like forever, what seemed like they had waited a lifetime to be with each other, Indea finally sank down, Saldivar filling her completely. Indea felt herself stretch around him tightly.

  She stilled for a moment, feeling Saldivar pulse inside her. She sucked on his fingers a little bit harder, then lifted up and sank down on him again. She lifted up but this time only went up halfway and squeezed him tightly, causing Saldivar’s breath to catch in his throat.

  Saldivar grunted and lifted his hips, trying to bury himself as deeply into her as he could; so far into her that they became one.

  She pushed as he pushed. They couldn’t get enough of each other. Didn’t think they ever could.

  Saldivar sat up and crushed his mouth to Indea’s, drinking in her cries. Her breasts were so lovingly pressed to his chest. Indea began to undulate her hips harder and faster. Saldivar wound his arms around Indea, pushing up into her hard and fast enough to lift her knees off the bed.

  Indea stayed with him, riding him like the stallion he was. Sweat beaded on her neck and rolled down in the valley of her breasts. Saldivar’s body glistened with a fine patina of sweat. His heart thundered with the power of his exertion.

  Indea came down hard one last time and Saldivar growled fiercely. They both cried out in unison as their bodies were spent. It was like sweet fire, leaving their lusty bodies into nothing more than molten ashes.

  Saldivar remained inside of Indea as she lay on his hot, chiseled body, panting heavily.

  A few minutes later, Indea moved to Saldivar’s side and lay limply beside him.

  They rested there, comfortable in their own silence. They just lay there, basking in the glow of their glorious love making.

  Saldivar propped up on his elbow and looked into Indea’s darkened green eyes. The word, je t’aime, lingering on his lips. He wanted to tell her. He ached to tell her. Tell her everything. Pour out his soul.

  But he couldn’t. Not now. Not after making sweet love to her. It would have to wait until later.

  Eventually, that day had to come.

  CHAPTER XII

  Raven peered at the couple from behind a tree, jealousy eating away at her. Try as she might, the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head. She hated it. Hated feeling like everybody else found love while she had to slave away because of Zane’s screwed up ethics. She highly doubted ethics played a role in his quest for the ultimate revenge, however.

  She didn’t bother Blending. The couple was oblivious to everything but themselves.

  Who could blame them, really?

  What did Zane know anyway?

  Raven observed them more closely. Saldivar and Indea really did make a cute couple, she could plainly see.

  Raven often wondered if she would ever have that kind of passion with someone. Someone to hold her tight. To softly kiss her lips as if she were made of glass. To touch her like no one else could. To make her lose all thought save for the lusty ones he could give her.

  Raven sighed, dejected. As long as she was under Zane’s power, she might as well give it up.

  Maybe it was time for a change. And in more ways than one. A light bulb went off in her head. A cunning smile crept upon her lips.

  First, she really was sick and tired of all this long hair. Zane had always made her keep it long.

  Well, not any longer. This was her body and she would do with it what she pleased. She was fifty years old. An immortal. She didn’t need Zane’s permission.

  She’d seen enough of Saldivar and Indea anyway. Once they disappeared into the cabin, Raven walked away. It didn’t take a genius to know what was going to happen. She didn’t want to be here to witness it. Let Zane come to his own conclusions. He will anyway.

  Raven raced off to a hair salon that was open late. She was a friend of the stylist who didn’t question Raven, or anybody else for that matter. The stylist didn’t have a nosy bone in her body. She’s the only female friend that Raven actually had or got along with.

  A few minutes later, Raven stepped into the hair salon to begin her transformation.

  *

  Simone
grabbed a Granny Smith apple from the fruit bowl. She crunched down on a big bite. She savored the tart sweetness of the delicious fruit. Suddenly, images of Van swam in her mind. She wished he would savor her like a luscious piece of fruit. Something along the lines of a juicy, ripe peach. Mmmmmm,

  Simone hoped Indea was having a great time tonight with Saldivar. Now, she just wished she and Van would get a special night as well. Her time in Paris was limited.

  Saldivar had turned out to be pretty terrific and special to Indea. She couldn’t complain. Indea was happy and Simone was very happy for her.

  But she now often wondered what Indea was going to do when she had to leave as well. Given the degree of their relationship thus far, she figured Indea was going to be crushed. Their place was in Alabama. Saldivar and Van’s life was here in Paris. They were worlds apart. And yet, it still didn’t stop Simone from wanting to make love with Van. Even if it were for one night, she wanted to cherish whatever time they had left together.

  The shrilling of the phone scattered Simone’s thoughts to the wind. She was the only one here, so she would have to answer it. She put down her apple and went to the phone.

  “Sky’s residence?” Simone spoke politely into the receiver.

  “Simone Timms, please,” came an unfamiliar male voice.

  Simone wrinkled her brows. No one called her by her last name. Not even Van. And this sure wasn’t Van.

  “Speaking,” Simone responded a little warily.

  The male voice was deep, almost gravelly. It sounded strong and confident. She wondered who it could be. She racked her brain but couldn’t place the dark voice to anyone she knew. Everyone just called her Simone. Plus, not many knew she was in Paris. But what’s even creepier was that this man called the Sky’s home at this particular time asking for her. And by her first and last name.

  “You don’t know me, my dear,” the stranger clarified.

  That explains it, Simone thought, somewhat baffled at what in the world this guy wanted.

  “I call only to help you.” He stopped for a second. “And to warn you,” he stated in a hushed voice.

  Simone stared at the phone like it had grown two heads. Okay, what is going on here? What was he trying to hint around at with that conspiring tone?

  “What are you talking about? And more importantly, who are you?” Simone asked, her voice a pitch higher.

  “I’m sorry. I cannot say. I only know you are in danger.”

  Was this some kind of bizarre game? If so, Simone wasn’t interested in playing.

  “Listen, buddy. I don’t know what your freaky little game is. I don’t know you and quite frankly, couldn’t care less on who you are or how important you think you are. I am going to hang up n-------“

  “I do not play games, young lady,” he interrupted harshly. He paused for a moment before continuing more softly, though Simone had a feeling he was trying to talk down to her. “Van is not who you think he is.”

  Simone scrunched her face and shook her head. “Excuse me? Just who are you? And how do you know Van?”

  His laugh sent cold chills down her spine. “Oh, I know about Van. And Saldivar as well. Is he not out with Indea right now? I’d check her neck if I were you. Two marks,” he said vaguely.

  Simone let out a gasp before she could stop it and now this fruitcake of a stranger knew that he was correct.

  “Well, my dear. You had better hope she comes back in one piece. That is, if she comes back at all. The same goes for you.” He hung up before Simone was able to form any coherent words.

  Simone replaced the receiver in what felt like slow motion. She had to put her head in her hands to keep the world from spinning.

  How did this person know her? Or know about Van or Indea and Saldivar and the fact that they were out alone together? Was he spying on them or having someone do it for him?

  What did he mean by Indea coming back in one piece or not coming back at all? And look at her neck? What for? A hickey? Who cares? Two marks? What’s that supposed to mean? A bite or something? So what if they nibbled at each other? It sometimes happened in the throes of passion. She was sure Saldivar was a very passionate person. Especially with Indea. She saw how they responded to each other.

  Simone chalked it up to the guy being some kind of pervert. A creepy voyeur who couldn’t get a woman so he watched others to get his rocks off.

  Sick. Simone twisted her mouth in disgust.

  She was going to have to talk to Indea and then see if she can speak with Saldivar and Van about this strange caller. He seemed to know a great deal about them if going by the confidence in his voice was anything to go by.

  A prickle of worry dripped down her back. The hairs on her neck stood out. Something was terribly wrong. She had a strong feeling deep in her gut that whatever this man knew could quite possibly ruin the lives of Indea, Saldivar, Van and herself.

  She didn’t get these feelings very often, but when she did, she knew to listen to them closely.

  Two bite marks? Two bite marks. She rolled it over in her brain repeatedly. What would have to happen to leave two bite marks on the neck? A hickey would just be a love bruise really. Nibbling would leave a little redness, but what about two bite marks? Like teeth punctures or something?

  Her mind snapped back to her interview with Mr. Hobbs. He talked vehemently of vampires in the states. Could he also believe they were elsewhere as well? He did seem to have a lot of connections. He also seemed to believe that vampires are not just myth and legend but unloving…..breathing?.......creatures of the night. When she had looked into his eyes, she found no hint of a falsehood.

  That was because, maybe in his own mind, he really believed they existed.

  Wait a minute! This has got to be some kind of set up. Somehow, Mr. Hobbs found out about Indea and herself vacationing in Paris. But Mr. Brant was the only one who knew. Surely, he wouldn’t sell her out to the likes of some loony like Mr. Hobbs.

  But that had to be the only reason. Mr. Hobbs paid someone to play a joke on her. They knew that Van and Saldivar owned a night club and therefore kept nightly shifts, making them seem like they were vampires. So they dressed eccentrically sometimes. So did she and Indea. Van and Saldivar had pale, smooth skin. No gray hair. Not a wrinkle marred their gorgeous faces. Their bodies were taunt and perfect. As far as Simone could tell, not a scar either. She would find out soon enough, hopefully, when she and Van were together.

  Maybe Indea could tell her if Saldivar had any imperfections on his body. Somehow, she highly doubted it.

  First things first. She would e-mail Mr. Brant and find out what was going on. He did seem unnaturally intrigued by the night club and wanted to get her to write a piece on Van and Saldivar and their lives thus far.

  Why did he want to know so badly? He even extended her stay in Paris. When she first read the e-mail he’d sent her, she wasn’t thinking about why he let her stay longer. She was just ecstatic that she got to spend more time with Van.

  She wished now in hindsight that she would have found out why before sending the article via e-mail attachment. But she trusted Mr. Brant. He was like a father. Would he screw her over for a delicious story? He had never done anything like that before and she has worked for him for six years. He was always up front about everything.

  Simone walked over to her computer, flipped up the screen and booted up the e-mail.

  She began to type: “Hello, Mr. Brant. I am still having a wonderful time here in Paris. Van and I have been getting along great. So have Indea and Saldivar.” She omitted the fact that they were out now. Usually, she wouldn’t have, but her gut told her to hold off. She typed on: “I hope the article was a good one. But I’m just wondering, because it’s been bothering me for some time now, why did you need a piece on Van and Saldivar? And the night club? It is so far away from Alabama and why would anyone want to know from a small town newspaper? Couldn’t the people get the general information from the yellow pages or the internet like using ‘
Goggle’? There are even television advertisements for international vacation. That would be where I would want to go for info on a night club outside the fifty. What was the point of getting deep info on the owners for? If it was me, I would be more concerned about the club’s many offerings. Please help me to understand why all this info was needed for what seems like small news. I would appreciate a quick response. Thank you and I will see you in a week.”

  Simone signed off then closed the screen of her laptop. She hoped this was just some kind of prank. Not a nice one, but it would be better if it wasn’t real.

  *

  Davis Brant read Simone’s e-mail at least four times, thinking of how he was going to explain to her what was really happening here in the states.

  Oh, but he couldn’t tell her. Guilt ate away at his gut worse than any ulcer. He hated this whole debacle. He knew she wanted him to write back as quickly as possible. If he waited too long, it would make her think that he was cooking up something to tell her that wasn’t the truth. He needed to respond within ten minutes. A faster response would hopefully throw her off for a while. He would tell her in time but he wanted to get to the bottom of this mess, too. If he explained things to her too soon, she might be in danger and so would Indea, Van and Saldivar. They all seemed like great people. He really didn’t want to hurt them.

  Was it even worth making enough money to retire on? Was hurting Simone worth all the money in the world? No. He would tell her when he was certain that if couldn’t be found out. He most certainly couldn’t e-mail it or phone it. Too easily traced. If she found a coded letter, she would worry. Mailing wasn’t going to be any easier. Sure, there was cryptic e-mail. But if he sent it to Simone, the people would know something was up. He had gotten Simone to write a piece on the two men and if he sent a coded e-mail, they would assume the worst. It would get Simone hurt or worse. He would put himself in front of a bullet before he let Simone get hurt because of his pathetic greed.