by Julia Talbot
Jameson began humming. Then whistling. The 1812 Overture.
Loudly.
He headed toward the north of the building, getting louder, making sure to stomp around. The door to Isaiah’s wing was heavy, blue, almost an entrance to another home altogether. Wasn’t blue to ward off evil spirits up here? Blue doors and gates…
“Izzy asked me to find out if you needed anything, sir.” Diego appeared out of nowhere, a knowing smile on his face.
Izzy? Oh god, too cute. “Oh, I’m just exploring.” He grinned back, though, because he thought Diego approved. “How are you?”
“I am exceptional. Pleased to hear that Izzy has a friend.” Diego winked at him, near-black eyes twinkling.
“He does. Does he hide in there a lot?”
“The first two hundred years of his life or so.”
“Wow.” Jameson paused to blink. That was serious. “What brings him out?”
“Well, he has to eat. I could turn off the Wi-Fi. He loves music and dancing…”
“Does he?” Now they were talking. “What kind?”
“R and B, soul, anything with a beat.”
“Thank you. Is there a sound system?” A house this fancy there had to be.
“Come with me.” Diego led him through the house to a small room off the ballroom—oh, intercoms, sound systems, lovely.
“Excellent. Thank you.”
“Holler if you two need me. I’ll be just out of eavesdropping range.” Diego winked. A coconspirator.
Isaiah garnered intense love, loyalty. He loved that. Looked like Diego was also a great judge of character, deciding to trust that Jameson had Isaiah’s best interests at heart.
“Thank you, Diego.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t harm him. I’ll feed you to the sunshine.”
“Naturally.” That sort of fierce faithfulness deserved respect, not defensiveness. When Diego left him, he turned to the sound system, which was state of the art about five years ago. Lovely. They could update later.
He found Isaiah’s playlists—the titles of hungry, lonely, bored made him frown, but he found dance and sex-me-up and dare-the-sun that tickled him.
So he played it. Come dance with me, love. Come on.
It took three songs before he saw the ballroom door crack open. Score. All he had to do now was meet Isaiah halfway without being super cheesy and Dirty Dancing.
Isaiah crept around the edges of the huge, empty room, eyes huge and watching. “Jameson? You’ve turned on the house speakers.”
“I have. Sounds amazing too. Nothing like Marvin Gaye to set a mood.”
“It does, but you…you’re mooding the whole house.” Isaiah’s hair was down, and Jameson hadn’t realized how wild it was, how heavy.
“Is that bad? Did I distract you from something wonderful?” His fingers itched to touch.
“I was reading.”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“What were you reading?” Jameson held out one hand.
“A-a book. Just a book.” Isaiah blinked at him, took his hand. “What are you doing?”
“Dancing with you.” Tugging Isaiah into his arms was the easiest thing ever. Isaiah blinked up at him, then smiled, fangs dropping down.
“Oh please. Thank you.”
Hello, beauty. Isaiah came right into his embrace, fitting as if they were born for one another.
“We’ll have to dance together in public, right?”
“We do. And I want to.” That seemed important to note. He wanted Isaiah already.
Isaiah smiled up at him, eyes catching the bits of light that leaked in from the open door. They moved together, slow and sure to the throbbing music. Isaiah was a natural, moving like the music was a part of him.
They swayed, and he hummed. He did love some Motown.
“You have a lovely voice.” The compliment warmed him all through.
“Thank you. I never know.” More than once he’d been accused of being annoying.
“About what?”
“Whether or not people like my singing. To some ears it’s a difficult frequency, I think.” Werewolves, for instance.
“Your friend wolf, hmm? I find it comforting.”
“Oh good.” The song changed, the distinct strains of Smokey Robinson’s Tracks of My Tears coming through. “I love this song.”
Isaiah bobbed his head, singing along, moving with him easily. They circled the ballroom until both of them were grinning, laughing at each other when they tangled up.
“Oh, can we do this again? Please?” Isaiah asked.
“Yes. Now? Or tomorrow?” Again wasn’t concrete enough.
“Yes, please. Now. Tomorrow. This is the most fun I’ve ever had.”
Now that was a shame.
He could think of a hundred things to teach Isaiah that were even more fun…
The song changed to something throbbing and seductive, and Isaiah stayed right with him. They moved more in one place now rocking together, then apart. Rubbing.
“I’m—I should—” Isaiah moaned for him, nice and slow.
“Shhh. No shoulds. Just feel us.” He put a hand on the small of Isaiah’s back to pull them together.
His boy was hard as nails, throbbing in his thin barely there pajama pants. So lovely. Not that he was going to rush making Isaiah come this first time. He imagined Isaiah would try to run long before that.
So for now they would dance. The music changed again, the tempo rising. He moved Isaiah around the dance floor, both of them laughing together.
Jameson loved Isaiah’s laugh. So free and uncensored. And the look in those eyes made him feel ten feet tall.
Damn Harve and his second sense about things. Jameson was half in love already.
The music slowed again, and he drew Isaiah in, making sure their bodies touched, top to bottom.
“Jameson…”
“Yes, sweet? You feel so good.”
“You make me hungry. That’s a dangerous thing.”
“Why? I can help.” He did slide a hand down then, resting it on Jameson’s ass.
“You can’t help, but thank you.”
He swung Isaiah in a wide circle, cha-cha-ing him about. “Why not?”
“We have to control ourselves.” He got another of those laughs.
“Oh, not when we’re alone. That’s for us.” He breathed deep, loving that scent.
“That’s not what I was taught.”
“What were you taught?” Tell me what I’m up against.
“If you allow yourself too much, then you become an animal. Too much food, too much joy, too much need—it’s forbidden.”
“By who? And what kind of animal? A human? They’re not so bad.”
“I don’t know. Everyone just knows you can’t. Didn’t anyone warn you?”
“No, but then no one taught me anything. All I know about me I learned for myself.”
Isaiah tilted his head, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. “How terrifying for you.”
“I did okay.” He’d been a mess sometimes, but he was pretty good at this vamp thing by now.
“You must have. How brilliant you are.”
“Oh, honey, I just don’t quit.” He had no idea how to.
“I should feed you, hmm? I’ve taken your whole evening.”
“Feed with me? Or at least stay with me?” He wasn’t being pushy. Just subtle. For now…
“Of course. Would you like to sit in the sitting room?”
“Of course.” Whose sitting room? he wondered.
“Come with me. I’m not sure if you remember the way.”
Oh, not that formal, awful room. He reached out to catch Isaiah’s hand. “How about in my sitting room? I feel like you have relatives who might just walk into the front room.”
“Yes. It has been known to happen.” Isaiah squeezed his fingers. “There is no privacy out here.”
“Then let’s go to my rooms.” He wanted more time with Isaiah.
&n
bsp; “I’d love that. Let’s go. No one would bother us there.”
He took Isaiah’s hand so they could walk together. Lovely man.
“My family tends to be decent, you know—a bit grumpy, but basically okay. No one wants to lose their place.”
“Is it all jockeying for position all the time?”
“I suppose it is, yes. I never had to. I expected to just be quiet in my quarters forever.”
“Mmm. Well, that would be a shame, but balance is key.” He closed the door behind them. He still had the bottle he hadn’t touched earlier.
“I don’t have a choice anymore, but that’s no fun to talk about.”
“I’m your companion, Isaiah. Talk to me about anything. I don’t want to upset you, though.” No, he wanted to excite Isaiah first.
“My companion. I do like how that sounds.”
“So do I.” He pulled Isaiah down on the settee. “Share some with me?” The bottle was right there on the table.
“Go ahead. I shouldn’t indulge.”
“Oh, just a sip.” He would have Isaiah drinking it from his lips.
“A sip?” Isaiah hummed softly, the sound deliciously erotic.
“A tiny taste. I hate to drink alone.”
Isaiah nodded, handing him the cup. “You have the first sip.”
“Thank you.” He took a nice deep draught, closing his eyes a moment. Damn.
A deep, dark moan filled the air, making his cock throb. Isaiah needed so deeply, so beautifully, and he didn’t even understand it. It made Jameson’s eyes roll.
He took another sip, then offered the glass to Isaiah. He knew his sweet one would lean close, which was when he would steal a kiss.
“You’re lovely.” Isaiah moved in, eyes on the glass.
“I was just thinking that about you.” He pressed his lips to Isaiah’s, giving him a few drops. Isaiah whimpered, opening up to him like a dream. Yes.
Jameson took the kiss deep for single moment, one human heartbeat.
Isaiah accepted him, then backed away, eyes wide. “I—”
He put two fingers against Isaiah’s lips. “We’re just sharing.”
“Right. I wasn’t ever intended to…Right. Just sharing.” He could almost see Isaiah lecturing himself.
“Maybe you need to stop thinking about what you were meant to do. Clearly things have changed.” He let his fingers wander, stroking the skin just above Isaiah’s collar.
“They have, and I’m…I have to learn how to be stronger, braver.”
“Or maybe fake it.” Jameson winked, inviting Isaiah to share his laughter.
“With me, yes, but that’s okay. I only have to make an appearance four or five times a year.”
“I really can help with that. If nothing else I can give you the confidence of having someone besides just Jamie at your back. I’m here for you and no one else.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.” Isaiah looked around his room and nodded. “It’s a good place, here. Comfortable.”
“I like it.” He grabbed Isaiah’s hand, toying with those long fingers.
“Good. What do you do with your free time? I mean, when you’re not dancing with me?”
“I love to read. I like silly action movies. I can run for hours.” He would just get on a treadmill and go because the world of the vampire was pretty narrow in the modern universe. Jameson had to work off energy.
“I’m a reader too. You have access to the library, and if you can’t find it, you can ask. I may have it.”
“Thank you.” A library. He’d used the public kind often in his life.
“Of course. This is your place too, naturally.”
“Is it? So what can I get away with?” He let a little of his wicked show.
“You look naughty. There’s no naughtiness here.”
“None at all?” He chuckled softly. “I might have to work to change that.”
“None. I don’t think it’s allowed.” Isaiah actually laughed.
“Can I try?” He leaned close again, hand on Isaiah’s chest.
“Try?” Isaiah’s nipples tightened under the thin shirt he wore.
“Naughtiness. You inspire me. I’ll chance getting hit by lightning.” He took another kiss, opening Isaiah’s lips with his tongue and demanding entrance.
Isaiah’s eyes flew open wide, staring right into him. Shock. Such adorable confusion.
His boy didn’t pull away, though, didn’t fight him. No, Isaiah opened up, fangs right there, waiting for the touch of Jameson’s tongue.
He stroked them, the needlelike fangs making him shiver. How perfectly luscious. He wanted to snap a little, to bite that lower lip, so he did.
Isaiah keened, hips snapping, the sudden scent of arousal in the air.
He’d known it. Known Isaiah needed not just touch and taste, but him. He understood how to make this man happy.
Isaiah stared at him, eyes shocked. “I should go. I’m so sorry.”
“Why? I’m not. I’m so pleased with how you taste.” He stroked one cheek.
“No one’s tasted me before. Ever.”
“I’m honored.” He didn’t have to lie about that. He really was. Isaiah was magical.
Isaiah blushed, color flooding his cheeks. “Thank you.”
“It’s true. I want to taste you again.” He slid one hand behind Isaiah’s head to hold him there and kiss again. Then again.
“We shouldn’t.” Isaiah reached down, cupping that needy cock. “I have to go and…take care of something.”
Jameson pushed a hand over Isaiah’s, pinning the man down. “You’re not listening. I’m here to help.”
“Help? I don’t understand. I don’t.”
“You will.” He stroked and pressed, loving each gasp and moan.
Isaiah’s face was a study in worry, in pleasure, and in pure hunger.
“Shh. This will feel so good.” Flesh on flesh would be better.
Isaiah groaned softly, head shaking side-to-side, hips pushing up into his hand.
“I have you.” He worked the hidden fastenings on Isaiah’s fancy trousers. Someone needed to trust in him, to believe that he was vamp enough to control Isaiah’s need.
That would happen. Right now he wanted to show Isaiah pleasure. Real pleasure.
“We shouldn’t. What if I hurt you?”
Jameson undulated. “Vampires like a little pain.”
“What?” Look at the lust in those icy eyes.
“Would you focus?” he teased. “I feel like you’re just not paying attention.” He got those pants open, but paused to reach up and pinch a nipple through Isaiah’s shirt. Hard.
Isaiah arched, teeth snapping at the air. Interesting.
Like he’d said. All vampires liked a little pain.
“Can you imagine, honey? My teeth on your sweet little nipple?”
“No! I can’t even imagine it.” Isaiah tried to pull away, then swayed closer.
“That’s a shame. I’m aching to taste.”
“Taste?” Isaiah sounded completely confused, excited.
“Your nip, baby. Your hard little nipple.”
“Oh. Oh!” Isaiah shook his head violently. “You’re making me so—”
“Hot?” He pinched the other one.
“No… I should go…” Isaiah arched under him.
“You should stay.” He kissed that mouth again, determined to make Isaiah lose speech. He kept pinching and stroking, petting Isaiah’s taut nubs as they kissed.
“Please. Please!” Isaiah started to thrash, and it sounded a bit like panic.
“Baby.” He drew Isaiah into his arms, holding him, sitting with them forehead to forehead.
“I’m frightened.”
“No. No, sweet. No fear. I’m here, and I can guide you through this.”
“I’m supposed to be guiding you…”
“In public, for certain.” He chuckled, then lifted Isaiah’s shirt to blow air over one hard nip. “Here I might have more experience.�
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“Experience…” Isaiah moaned, soft and low.
“Yes. I think I was learning what I needed to for you.” Flowery, but somehow honest.
Isaiah groaned for him, one hand trembling in his hair. So sweet and tentative. Oh, the things he wanted to do, but he would take it slowly. With great effort. Surprisingly difficult.
What he wanted was…he dragged his thoughts from that before he had Isaiah over his knee.
Not yet. That would come.
Isaiah tugged his hair. “Is this— you seem to be thinking very hard.”
“No, I am very hard, and I keep thinking I don’t want to rush you. But I want you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Isaiah groaned and slid those hands down his arms.
“You won’t.” He pressed against that long, lean body, rubbing and rocking.
“Are you sure?” Isaiah’s eyes began to shine, fangs appearing again, the long, needlelike teeth meant to strike deep and easy.
“I am.” Hell, a werebear hadn’t been able to top him. He was pretty damn sure.
Isaiah had grown up believing the world was a sterile, icy place. The truth was much more messy. Far more difficult.
He took another kiss, giving fang for fang and they drew blood. Finally.
Isaiah’s blood was sharp, brightening him up inside. Sparks exploded behind his eyes. Christ that was good. It was like tasting lightning.
Moaning, Isaiah licked at his lips. “So dark. Like the best wine. Earthy.”
How fascinating.
“You like?” he asked, and Isaiah nodded, the sweet pale skin flushing dark.
“Good.” He bit his tongue, then offered more. He needed Isaiah wild for him.
Isaiah’s whimper was muted between their lips, and then the little body was in his lap, asking for more.
He growled, then grabbed Isaiah’s hips, guiding them together until not even air could come between their bodies. His boy was hard, leaking, shaft like a brand against him. So sweet. He grabbed that long cock, sliding his closed fingers up and down.
Isaiah gasped, and he imagined the drag of material on virginal skin was maddening. The kinds of fabric he could show Isaiah tantalized him: silk, leather, the softest fleece. Silk ties on those lean wrists, cuffs, leather straps on Isaiah’s cock.
He moaned, then bit that tender lower lip, drawing more blood. He licked it clean, sucking gently. “So sweet, baby. Delicious.”
“I can’t think.” Isaiah shook, but he knew it wasn’t fear. No, it was overwhelmed nerves and desire.
