House of secrets, p.17
House of Secrets, page 17
He smiled and inclined his head. “Anytime, love.”
The words, thank you, were insufficient. This man, this immortal man, had literally saved my life once and now my sanity, and I had no idea how to ever pay him back. I guessed I could offer to be his snack if he was ever hungry and short on dates at some point. Though that seemed unlikely. My cheeks heated as I imagined his teeth on my neck and hand down my pants, making small circles at the apex of my sex. Pressing my knees together, I shoved the thought away. Still, my body betrayed me, and my underwear dampened.
Andras stilled, and his eyes flashed gold, a startling display of what he truly was beneath the human guise. He dipped his chin down to look up at me through his lashes like an animal about to pounce.
“What is it you’re thinking about?” He asked in a low gravely voice.
I died inside.
He grinned, and it was positively feral.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Gods. Calm down.
I cleared my throat.
“I was wondering if you’re going to order a drink…”
“Oh, were you?” He purred.
“Yes.”
“Liar. And yes, I will be ordering a drink.”
Andras waved at a passing waiter, who paused mid-stride to take his order: a Manhattan for himself and “a panty dropper shot for the lady.” Arrogant, obnoxious, son of a bitch. And yet, I longed to sit on that perfect face.
“So what’s it like being, ya know, what you are?” I asked, taking a sip of my martini. The vinegary bite of the olive juice and the burning sensation of the gin washed over my tongue and slipped down my throat.
Andras glanced around to make sure no one was lingering within earshot before continuing, “Exactly like the movies. Love triangles, glitter skin, feeding frenzies.” He waved his fingers in front of himself, a gesture that was part spooky and part jazz hands.
I rolled my eyes.
“Seriously,” I pressed.
“Okay, but prepare for a very dramatic yet boring story. Being…immortal…can be really lonely. Some decades more than others.” A shrug. “Life can feel redundant, and the monotony and loneliness can start to drive you a little insane. Unlike the movies, vampires don't really run around making carbon copies of themselves, unless there’s a war. It's rare to meet another. The possibility of having to spend hundreds of years with someone is a really effective deterrent. Plus, even if you do meet someone, or turn someone, well…you know the saying: ‘power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.’ And I certainly never wanted to be responsible for adding another psycho to the world.”
“But how did you become one?”
He went rigid, his eyes darkening as if a haunting memory was dragging him back to a place and time he didn’t want to visit.
“I’d rather not talk about it, or him. Some things are best left buried and forgotten,” he said, his voice an octave deeper and a little hollow.
“I’m sorry. About all of that,” I said, reaching slowly for his hand. He looked down at the contact, his eyes now a gilded blue. I couldn’t help but chuckle, at which he smiled back sheepishly.
“There are perks, though, of being...this,” he said, dipping his chin to gesture at himself.
“Like speed and strength and living forever?” I took another sip from my martini. “As a woman, I spend a lot of my time afraid. I can’t walk anywhere at night without looking over my shoulder every thirty seconds, especially after…especially after my father died. And again, now, ever since that man broke into my house. I can’t imagine feeling that...safe,” I admitted.
Andras slowly shook his head, then focused on his drink. “Yes,” he said, “there’s a certain comfort in it, in that way. There is the fear of being found out and ending up in a laboratory or being hunted by human mobs, but that’s not your typical day-to-day fear. Most of the time, I feel exceptionally safe and can keep those I care about safe, too.” He paused as if to consider something before continuing, “So your father died?”
I nodded.
“Murdered.”
“And you saw him after?”
“Yes. And I’ve been anxious and fearful of death, of not being able to keep people I love safe, ever since.”
“I’m so sorry, Danny.”
My glass seemed to glow as the ice floated there, reflecting the light. And then I saw the blood, so much blood.
“He’d been,” I breathed in and out slowly, “Torn apart in his office. They were looking through his things. Files and papers were everywhere, and blood splattered…” I swallowed. “My sister and I found him.”
Andras's soft fingers found mine across the table. He stroked the back of my hand delicately.
“I’m sorry.”
I forced a tight smile.
“It was a long time ago,” I said softly, “but it affects me every day. Honestly, he’s probably the reason I got married to my ex in the first place. I wanted a safe and boring life.”
“And now?”
“And now I want it all,” I said, meeting Andras’ eyes, “Fear be damned.”
He pinned me to the spot, his hand still gently caressing mine. His lips kicked up slightly at the corners as he glanced up from his drink to me. “You know, there are advantages to being like this, too. Can I show you something?” he asked.
I nodded, excitement and fear washing over me.
The room around us began to darken. I inhaled sharply, and my spine locked up as shadows expanded like the room was being rubbed out with ebony paint. Then, slowly, the shadows receded to reveal teak bedroom furniture and a large king-size bed with a floral installation around a crystal chandelier hanging above it. A fireplace crackled along one wall, and an end table stacked with old books hugged each side of the bed. Andras and I sat at a writing table in the far corner of the bedroom. My eyes widened, and I darted about the room. My chest rose and fell faster, faster, and faster.
“What’s happening,” I whispered.
“Our bodies are still in the bar, but I’ve pulled you into my head. This is my bedroom,” He motioned around the space, “I wanted to show you this,” he said, waving a hand towards the bed.
I raised my eyebrows. “A bed? Seriously?”
“Oh. No. I mean…unless that’s what you want?” he smirked. “But, no. Look above the bed.”
My eyes climbed the wall and narrowed in on a painting where a headboard would be.
I hopped to my feet and froze. My hand flew to my mouth as I gasped, “Oh shit.” I looked down at my body. “Did I just stand up and yell in the bar?”
“No. Whatever we do here stays here. All anyone else can see is just us sitting, hanging out, and time goes by faster here, almost like a dream. So while it might feel like we’re here for a long time, it will seem like a few heartbeats out there.”
I nodded slowly. “This is crazy,” I whispered. Then my feet were moving as I ambled toward the bed and it felt real, impossible to decipher from the real world. Flexing and relaxing my hands, I marvelled at the sensations, while taking in my surroundings in awe.
“Mattise?” I asked incredulously as I came upon the masterpiece that hung behind protective glass on the wall just above his bed.
The nude figure of a woman lying down popped against a colorful background of blues and greens. I inhaled and imagined what it would have smelled like when the paint was still wet.
“Mmmhmmm,” he hummed, “I thought you might like it.”
“I do. It’s beautiful.”
My hand ran down the buttery-soft linen comforter, and a warm wave washed over me as a sudden need to be desired caressed, and filled hit me. I spun on my heel to face Andras, still sitting motionless at the table, though something like amusement marked his face.
“Take me back to the bar,” I demanded in a sudden panic that I didn’t understand.
“Of course,” he said.
The room exploded with shadows and darkness, and when they cleared, we were back in the bar; a silk dancer had begun their ascent up the crimson drapes, and the place was suddenly packed with patrons. I pressed my eyes closed to stop the world from spinning. When I opened them, I felt like I might puke. Reading about fantastical shit could not be more different than actually experiencing it. For a moment, my reality seemed to hang on a frayed thread swaying precariously in the wind. My delicate human brain couldn’t comprehend up from down, left from right, or real from fake.
Andras's expression was sober as he reached across the table to caress my cheek.
“Just breathe,” he said. “It’s really intense the first time, but it will pass.”
“Intense?” I suppressed the urge to glare at him, “I feel like I’m bopping around in Wonderland.”
Andras frowned. “That bad, huh?”
“Yeah, probably because I already feel like my sanity is one panic attack away from shattering these days. And you can just…pull someone into a different world like that?” I asked, leaning forward against the table to keep my voice low, then muttering, part in awe, part in horror, “I can’t tell if I think it’s amazing or utterly fucking terrifying. Also, never do that to me again without warning or permission.”
“Of course not.”
“Okay,” I whispered. I needed to clear my head. “Excuse me, I’m just gonna run to the bathroom.”
I wandered down the hall towards the restroom and fought every cell in my body, screaming at me to run, run, run. While sitting down to pee, I texted Jess.
“Sis, is it too soon to move on from my marriage?”
Jess replied more quickly than usual, and I was glad for it. “No. You deserve to feel loved. You deserve to be happy. And I wouldn’t feel guilty one bit. You guys are officially done, and frankly, Steven checked out of your marriage years ago, so as far as I’m concerned, you’ve been single for years. Do it. Break the seal.”
I read the words over and over again in the bathroom, Steven checked out years ago. Truer words had never been spoken, and yet I was still agonizing over him. Meanwhile, out there sat Andras, a gorgeous immortal, waiting for me. A man who had saved my life and my children and helped me put an end to the painfully ridiculous Bethany feud. Sure, I’d only known him for a couple of months, but he made me smile and laugh, which was more than I could say about Steven, who had stomped around the world like a raging curmudgeon for the past few years.
I pulled up my pants, flushed the toilet with the toe of my shoe, and smiled knowingly at myself in the mirror while I washed my hands. I spun around and strutted back to the table, ass in full swing, Persian hips like a honing beacon, turning heads all the way back to Andras.
I hopped into the seat across from Andras, who seemed very focused on a stain on the table. He inhaled as his eyes flicked up to me to say something, but stopped, eyes dragging over me. He seemed to notice the change in my body where I’d gone from reeling confusion to something else, something primal. He grinned.
“Are you feeling better, then? he asked. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about the side effects. To be honest, I forgot, but I take full responsibility for making you feel upset in any way.”
“Thank you. I’m fine,” I said. “Better than fine.” I lifted my chin towards his drink. “Bottoms up,” I said, throwing back the rest of my martini and wincing as the full strength of the liquor hit the back of my throat. Then I placed both hands on the table and closed the distance between him and me, staring into his eyes like a fox giving chase to a rabbit (if the rabbit were unable to die and itself a perfectly designed creature of death). My chest rose and fell as I panted–yes, panted. Andras's lip kicked up on one side but his eyes were the color of honey once again, and laser focused on…?. His long fingers curled into fists, his nails carving into the table while he waited, and waited, and waited until finally, I realized that he wasn’t going to make a move until I said so. I smiled.
“Take us back to your room,” I ordered, our eyes still locked, as I leaned over the table until I was inches from his face.
Andras's pupils expanded, the gilded blue turned a blazing gold, and the world went black.
IN HIS ROOM
I found myself in Andras's bedroom, which was not actually his bedroom but in his mind, where the fireplace crackled and the bedspread practically sang my name. A smell of ash and whiskey hung in the air. I nervously tapped my fingers against the side of my thighs. The man in front of me wasn’t human. And it had been a long time since I’d been touched, let alone by someone other than my husband. Would I even remember what to do? Andras breathed shakily, his focus going between my eyes and my mouth, where they lingered a little longer. His full lips parted, and he paused, frozen, until I realized, again, that he was waiting for me. My skin prickled with goosebumps.
My eyes dragged down his muscled body. I slowly reached up and unbuttoned the first button on my low-cut top. Andras sucked in a breath. I unbuttoned another and then another, revealing my black lace bra. Then I took a step forward until we were so close that his uneven exhales warmed my forehead as I gazed up at him. His scent, cedar and whisky, filled my nose. I closed my eyes, taking it all in. I gently laid my hand on his neck and whispered, in a breathy voice I barely recognized, “Can I kiss you?”
“You can do anything you want to me,” he whispered back, his voice deep and full of gravel. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him, and my skin, every inch, flushed and heated. My stomach tingled. I pushed up onto my toes as he brought his soft, warm lips to mine. A flick of his tongue had my body tightening and shuddering. “Oh Gods,” I whispered against his mouth, and he chuckled darkly in response. He lifted me off the floor with one hand under my ass, and I wrapped my legs around him, pressing my center against the considerable length of him. I writhed and kissed him harder and he responded by opening his mouth for me and running his tongue over mine. I ran my hands up under the hem of his shirt, across his warm skin, the peaks and valleys of his abs, and the pecs that twitched under my palms as he gently laid me on the bed.
Andras sat back on his heels, waiting again, as if giving me time to change my mind. I kicked off my Oxfords, then slid off my pants in one silky movement. My black lace panties hid the faded scar from where Olivia had been cut from my body. The fireplace added a warm glow to my round hips and long legs, and I was thankful for that. I took Andras by the hand and pulled him down on top of me, slowly working my fingers over the buttons on his shirt while we kissed, inch by inch, revealing his abs and the deep carve of his hip flexors that formed a perfect “V.” My underwear were drenched. I unbuttoned his slacks, keeping his pelvis close to mine. The rest of our clothes came off in a flurry of hands, tossed on the floor in a careless pile until we were naked, and Andras was on top of me.
He kissed me slowly, softly, down my neck, pausing at my breasts. “These are beautiful,” he breathed before flicking his tongue over my nipple. I bucked and writhed beneath him. He smiled against my breast.
“Is this okay?”
I nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
He licked and teased each one until I was moaning and grinding against him, desperate for pressure, for something, anything to relieve the ache building in my lower belly. His hand slid down to my entrance and stopped, “Okay?” he whispered, looking up at me from my chest with glassy eyes. “Yes.” A large, long finger pushed into me, and my back arched. “You’re so wet,” he said into the skin of my belly, and I gasped and begged, “more.” Finally, when I thought I was going to die from want, he trailed down further, paying special attention to my scar, his finger still pumping and curling inside of me. Then his mouth, hot and wet, found its way to that little bundle of nerves at the apex of my sex, and I screamed. He licked softly at first, leisurely, drawing the little bundle into his mouth and sucking gently, finger pumping, pumping, pumping. He slid his finger free, and I whimpered, feeling suddenly too empty. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop! Large, strong hands gently spread me open, and he settled between my legs like he planned to be there all night, looking his fill for what felt like hours with his pitch-black eyes. Unable to take it anymore, I reached for myself, but just before my fingers found my clit, he plunged his tongue inside of me, in and out, and I reached for his hair, tangling my fingers in it and almost laughing at the irony. I nearly came.
“Andras!” I moaned and bucked.
“Is this okay?” he asked, pausing, his breath hot against me.
“Yes,” I moaned.
“Do you want me to keep going?”
“Please,” I begged.
He licked up my center, and my hips rose off of the bed, but he pushed my hips gently back down, holding me in place. He licked again, then settled over the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue there, then closed his mouth around me to suck gently. He slipped two fingers inside, and I breathed his name as I went over the edge so explosively that I nearly blacked out. My vision went dark, and all that existed at that moment was infinite pleasure, so intense that I felt like I might die. Can an orgasm kill you? My body quivered and shook against his mouth as I clenched around his pumping fingers and whispered filthy things. He pulled away and sat back, his mouth still glossy from me, and curved into a proud smile.
He pressed his tongue into the corner of his mouth.
“Thank you,” he said.
I shook my head, still a little out of my mind from the best orgasm of my life. I pushed myself onto my knees, wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips and tongue. I climbed onto his lap and lowered myself onto his cock, slowly, inch by inch, giving myself time to adjust while I took in the full width and length of him. “You’re huge,” I whispered against his lips, and he had the audacity to shrug. His head dropped back as I moved a little faster, and his fangs caught the light of the fire. I kissed his neck as I moved up and down on him, feeling deliciously full.
