by Jayha Leigh
“Make yourself at home, Ianikut, because I’m not your mom and therefore won’t be catering to your whims,” she said before she grabbed a drink from the refrigerator. Kicking her shoes off, she headed to the bedroom. Ianikut took the time to tour her home. It looked like it had originally been a four-bedroom house, but she’d knocked out one of the walls to expand her electronics arena. Every square inch of the second bedroom was decorated in Carolina blue. Though he managed to keep from vomiting, he knew that there was no way in hell he could spend the night in what amounted to a shrine for Carolina. It was obviously a guest room. She used the third bedroom as storage, which left only one bedroom palatable ‑‑ hers. Although every wall was painted a different color, at least none of the colors was neon or Carolina blue.
Ianikut pondered his attraction to Aloha, which could prove problematic for various reasons ‑‑ chief among them was the fact that she didn’t know that he was alive. Still, his body hungered for her, so after his self-guided tour and a shower, he went in search of her. It was a good thing that he always traveled with an overnight bag so he had all of the necessities.
Ianikut found her sprawled out on her trampoline, getting reacquainted with her video game console. He smiled at her outfit, which consisted of a Carolina T-shirt and gray Carolina sweatpants ‑‑ almost a complete one-eighty from his own attire, which consisted of a Duke T-shirt and Duke shorts. He continued to watch her for a full five minutes before he realized that her attention was solely on the game. Making his presence known, he pulled up a leather chair.
Hitting pause, she smiled. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
Not if you’re not in it with me. “I woke right up after I showered. I’m normally a night owl.”
“Me, too. Want to watch a movie or something?”
“What if I say, ‘or something’?”
“I’d still be better than you at it ‑‑ unless it was sucking. On second thought, I’m probably better at that too, if you mean it literally.” She smirked, then licked her succulent lips deliberately while holding his gaze.
Ianikut was damn glad that she kept eye contact, else she would’ve noticed his cock trying to burst through his basketball shorts. “You know, you are humbling. Couldn’t you at least pretend to fall all over me like the rest of the female population?”
“Absolutely not. You should, however, be falling all over me. Now, what do you want to do to pass the time, Ianikut?”
“What if I say that I want to get to know you?”
“I’d ask if you were being truthful or flip.”
“Truthful,” he responded.
“Then I’d say get out the metaphorical cheesecake and pull up a seat.”
“Ah, I believe that’s a Golden Girls reference.”
“It is, and I’m impressed that you know that. However, if we’re going to have an actual conversation, then you need to grab a blanket and chance the trampoline,” she challenged with a raised brow, although Ianikut wasn’t sure if her raised brow was because of his attire or his wariness.
Getting comfortable on the trampoline, Ianikut reached for Aloha and pulled her closer to him. He didn’t crush her to him like he wanted to because he instinctively knew she wasn’t ready for his full passion. As it turned out to be, it wasn’t his passion that was offensive to her.
“I know you’re not rubbing that Duke paraphernalia against my person,” she reprimanded.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, but I believe that it’s you rubbing your Carolina paraphernalia against me in hopes that my Duke vibe will rub off on you,” he teased, knowing that would definitely get a rise out of her.
“Oh, please,” she huffed. “In your damn dreams.”
Sensing that she was gearing up for an all out cussing out, he switched topics. After all, he didn’t really want to fight with her…unless it led to hot sex. “Since I’ve told you my full name, tell me how you came by your name.”
Considering the way she got her name went a long way to calming her down. “My parents are freaks and conceived me en route to Hawaii.”
“Good thing they didn’t conceive you en route to Texas, because it would be odd calling you Howdy.”
“You have no idea how grateful I am for that.”
They talked until just before dawn, which was a first for Ianikut. Never had he spent a night just talking with a woman. He enjoyed listening to Aloha’s excitable, fast-paced clip. Aloha possessed a wicked sense of humor and a unique way of viewing things.
Aloha had been asleep for half an hour, yet he found himself contemplating this woman that had him so intrigued. A woman of deep passions, she played hard, she worked hard, and she slept hard. One moment she was yelling at him for being such a man, then laughing at him, and the next she was sound asleep, which gave him time to look his fill at the woman who had captured his attention. He liked the way she talked, enjoyed the way she argued, and loved the way she said his name. He couldn’t wait to hear her scream it out in passion.
It was obvious from her vehicle and home that she was well-off. And it was also obvious that regardless of her money, she was not a woman concerned with social strictures or a woman who was afraid to get her hands dirty, recalling how much work she and her evil twin had put into making Evil Twins ‑‑ the sports bar that she co-owned with Atlanta, successful. Pausing, he took in the subtle aura of don’t-fuck-with-me that clung to her neon-encased but delectable body. Before succumbing to sleep, he laughed, considering the irony of them having his and hers don’t-fuck-with-me auras.
Upon waking, Ianikut unfolded himself from the trampoline and stretched. He had enjoyed a surprisingly sound sleep in spite of spending an inordinate amount of time gazing at Aloha while she slept. To say that she was a deep sleeper was an understatement; it was more like she fell into a pseudocoma. She didn’t move from the spot she fell asleep in. He’d spent half the night talking to her and the other half of the night rearranging her to ensure her comfort. Since she was significantly lighter than he, she’d moved whenever he’d moved. And since the trampoline was made to accommodate movement, she’d ended up in less than desirable positions for comfortable sleep. Ianikut decided that the next time he spent the night, they’d have to sleep in a bed because a trampoline wasn’t conducive to making love to Aloha. He shushed his cock and strolled to the kitchen to make his hostess breakfast as a thank-you for sharing her home. It was a good thing his father was a trained chef, else Aloha would be stuck eating the cold cereal that fought the economy-size bags of Skittles for cabinet space. He wondered how she liked waffles.
Chapter Three
Ianikut wanted to dive into bed after a week of endless work. He was tired, hungry, and had had a raging hard-on since spending the night at Aloha’s house. He needed to hear that sultry voice and watch her mouth as she said his name. Pressing play on his answering machine, he smiled in spite of his fatigue upon hearing Aloha’s voice.
“Hi, Ianikut. It’s Aloha. Give me a call when you get a chance.”
Ianikut meant to return Aloha’s calls, but he’d been swamped with family obligations, and considering who he was, his obligations were many. He, the Ianikut Maksim Aleksandrovich, was of the law, which meant that he was the total law ‑‑ police, attorney, judge, and executioner, if need be. Aside from his vampire job, he was considered the most likely heir of the vampire kingdom.
Though his position and status afforded him many privileges, it also required due diligence. The Aleksandroviches were not a family to be crossed. They bred alpha males and only alpha males. Since the great unification of vampire families, a male from their lineage occupied the kingship ‑‑ and for good reason. A proactive family, the Aleksandroviches didn’t wait for trouble to come to them; they actively hunted it, judged it, and disposed of it.
Though a son of the most powerful ruler ever to lead, when Ianikut was installed in the circle of the law, it quickly became evident that he was a whole new breed of vampire. His intellect, strength, and will caused the
whole vampire nation to take notice. The man was hands down the most brilliant tactician in the glorious and bloody history of the vampire nation. He stood out even amongst the alphas he fought beside. Few fucked with him, not even independent vampires, other paranormal beings, or his father ‑‑ the current king. A fair man, Ianikut didn’t abuse his privilege, but he didn’t leave any doubt why others tiptoed around him. His motto was: just one. Simply put, Ianikut was the kind of motherfucker other motherfuckers crossed countries to avoid.
Trouble in the vampire nation had been relatively nonexistent since he became a member of the law. Someone must’ve alerted the powers that be that he had free time and a smoking-hot woman he wanted to spend it with, because as soon as he thought about all of the trouble he could get into with Ms. Aloha Carrington, seven kinds of hell broke loose. It was as if Murphy’s Law had ordered a hit out on him. Being the don’t-fuck-with-me type of vampire he was, he’d quickly righted the chaos and looked forward to getting some rest ‑‑ so that he could play with Aloha.
He was tempted to call her right then, but he decided to listen to all of his messages first. Though it was late at night, anything could happen and he hated to shower if he was going to just get all bloodied whilst raining down vengeance. Apparently, Aloha had spent considerable time getting to know his outgoing message, for all of the messages were from her.
“Ianikut, dammit! If you don’t call me back, I’m straight kicking your ass. Call me pronto or else!”
The next message was merely an amendment to her previous message. “Screw it; there is no ‘or else.’ Just freaking call me, dammit!”
He chuckled at the thought of the petite woman trying to kick his ass before wondering what was so pressing that she threatened him. Although she had only called three times, you’d think she’d called twenty. He figured that he could reach her now, being that it was almost midnight. Dialing her number, he undressed so that he could take a quick shower before falling into much needed sleep.
The phone barely finished its initial ring before it was snatched up. “Ianikut?!”
“Aloha? What’s wrong?” he asked as his body went on instant alert.
“What’s wrong is that I need some more of that waffle thing that you made. I’ve tried waffles every damn where, and none come close. I’ve been offered damn near every kind of waffle except the kind that you made.” Taking a deep breath, she listed them. Ianikut laughed so hard that he only caught the last part of the list. He was pleased that she had enjoyed his cooking.
“…waffles and chicken, which is a culinary experience that I still don’t understand. I almost allowed Atlanta to try her hand at making them, except the thought of having my stomach pumped nipped that in the bud. Anyway, you need to bring your fine ass over here bearing waffles.”
“You think I’m fine?”
“Pay attention, Ianikut, or you’ll be looking fine as the authorities draw a chalk outline around your body. I need waffles.”
“I’m glad that you enjoyed them.”
Aloha interrupted him. “To say that I enjoyed them is an outright lie. I enjoyed seeing you play the part of serving boy at the cookout. I enjoyed finishing Final Fantasy. I enjoyed getting a copy of a game before release date. I fucking loved those waffle things. I’m fiending for those waffle things like artists who are featured on VH-1’s Where Are They Now? crave another hit. I had a sugar high for, like, three days after eating that. So when are you making more?”
“Can you make waffles?” he asked, laughing as he caught Aloha’s long-suffering sigh.
“Of course I can make waffles. What I can’t make is those waffle things that you made. If you try to give me a recipe for making them, I’ll give it to Atlanta and let her make them. Then I’ll personally bring them over to you, feed them to you, and induce vomiting when you look to be on the brink of death.”
“Just bear with me a minute,” he began. “Look in your refrigerator. I sliced extra fruit and stored it in one of those plastic bowls. There’s extra topping in one of those vacuum-sealed bags in your freezer. Didn’t you see it?” he asked, puzzled, since he had clearly marked and dated it.
“Why the hell would I need to look in my fridge, when my bags of Skittles are in the cabinet? Maybe if you had stuck a note on the TV referring me to the fridge, I would’ve known it was there. Thanks. Bye,” she said as she ended the call.
Okay, so she doesn’t use her refrigerator. He should’ve expected such a revelation from a woman who had little use for most things that didn’t play video games, CDs, DVDs, MPRs, or come with powerful engines. He smiled and headed for the shower.
Chapter Four
Aloha enjoyed every damn bite of the waffle thing, and the sugar high that it induced. That man might be a Duke fan, but he could cook his fine ass off. Each bite produced a whole-body orgasm. She briefly wondered if Ianikut had laced the topping with anything. The only way the dish could’ve been better was if Ianikut fed it to her…from his mouth while wearing nothing but a towel and copious baby oil, or if she had eaten it directly off of his body. Thinking of licking her way up his body in between bites of food caused her to come. Dipping into the time reserved for gaming, she dropped off a thank-you card and some lunch from what she was told was his favorite eatery.
She would’ve loved to stay and dine with Ianikut, but she already had a lunch appointment with Atlanta. They had a standing lunch appointment on Wednesdays so that they could talk yang to each other. A good time was always had, and it served to mellow them out, as running their little empire took a lot of energy.
In between snippets of football and conversation about the current rankings on the chili, ribs, and chicken cook-off circuit, a disproportionate amount of Atlanta’s conversation revolved around the man she referred to as “the Viking.” He was the man that Atlanta had plowed into last December. Aloha remembered that incident because Atlanta had two broken fingers during football playoffs, which had been a collective pain in the ass for everyone involved. And then there was the fact that she continued mentioning the man. Apparently besides having the specs for a damn fine offensive tackle or defensive end, he was totally fucking hot.
Aloha and Atlanta had been best friends for many years, and in those years they had traveled on hundreds of trips, gotten into all kinds of shit, spent countless nights at each other’s homes, and shared thousands of lunches, so Aloha knew when something was awry with her friend. A few questions here and there led Aloha to the realization that if Atlanta hadn’t already fallen for the Viking, she was well on her way to it. Since Atlanta was her best friend, it was up to her to insure that the Viking was worthy and didn’t fall into the psychopath category. She didn’t dare ask Jack to verify that he was an okay guy, for fear that Jack would mortally wound him, which left only one other person to ask. Tucking into her lunch, she penciled in “see Ianikut” on her mental PDA while wondering if two days was enough of a heads-up for him.
* * * * *
Ianikut sat in his office, contemplating how smoothly the week had gone. Though he was glad that his week had been crisis-free, he wouldn’t celebrate until the weekend officially began. Five minutes and counting…three minutes and counting…two minutes and counting. One minute and he could end his week. Forty-five seconds… The buzz of his intercom interrupted his countdown.
“Mr. Aleksandrovich?”
“Yes, Ms. Neal?”
“Ms. Aloha Carrington is here to see you, sir.”
Aloha was here. She’d probably eaten her way through the waffles and needed more. Though whipping up another batch of his secret waffle recipe would only take a few minutes and allow him to spend quality time with her, his gut told him that she wasn’t here because of the food, which left only one reason why she’d come to his office on a Friday afternoon. That reason was Atlanta. Oh, hell. Regardless of the fact that he felt the beginnings of a headache pondering what kind of hell Atlanta had raised, a part of him was still delirious to be seeing Aloha again. “Send her in, plea
se.”
He rose when the door opened. Aloha rushed in, a kaleidoscope of neon and braids. Damn, she was cute ‑‑ in a quirky, mad computer scientist sort of way.
Standing as she skidded to a halt in front of his desk, he greeted her. “Hello, Aloha. How might I help you?”
“Yeah, hey,” she threw out as a greeting before launching into her reason for separating herself from her computer and visiting him. “Ianikut, are you a vampire?”
“What!?” What the hell?
“Are. You. A. Vampire?” She enunciated slowly, as if his shock was due to an inability to comprehend her English rather than the content of her incredulous question.
Sighing, he asked. “What did Atlanta say about me this time?”
“What she always says about you, which is basically a variation of she doesn’t know why you’re one of her best friends, being that you’re so you ‑‑ which apparently involves a whole lot of peculiarities that begin with the letter p: pressed, prima donna, particular, prissy… The list goes on. You guys aren’t fighting, are you?”
Ianikut knew that Aloha was concerned by the way she chewed her succulent bottom lip. Damn, she was attractive. Still, he had to answer her question. “Not yet.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter if you’re fighting. You’re not going to win.”
“What makes you think I wouldn’t win?”
Aloha closed her eyes and blew out a breath. “Seriously, Ianikut. You’re a dude, and you went to Duke instead of Carolina.”
“Which means what?” He asked partly out of curiosity and because Aloha was so tempting when riled up. She pouted beautifully with her arms crossed and tapping one of her feet, which were clad in Carolina blue Crocs sandals.
