Nectar (Nectar 1)

~~~

The morning was uneventful. Kyla read the newspaper online, lurked on Facebook (after ensuring the chat function was turned off), watched TV, stared out the window, and wandered around the fairly sterile apartment. She tried to stay out of her head but it wasn’t easy. She was worried about how things would go tonight. She was anxious for him to get back.

Just two minutes before noon music startled her.

It was the pretty new iPhone ringing with Tristan’s name and a photo of a chocolate brownie with a bite taken out. She giggled, recognizing the song, Hinder’s Lips of an Angel, and the chorus where the singer lamented about how sweet it was to hear her voice say his name. She answered the phone,

“Well holy swoon, Batman,” she answered. She felt all gooey and mushy inside.

“Princess.” She could hear amusement in his voice.

“Like the ringtone?”

“I do,” she breathed.

“Everything fine?” he asked.

“Yep. With you?” She was short of breath, her heart rate increasing just at the sound of his voice.

“Uh huh. Tonight’s all delegated and organized. I’m just at the house. It’s not that bad. Bedroom is in good shape. I’m bringing over our clothes for tonight and a few things and then I have someone coming to do your hair and other primping at 3:00. I’ll be there first so don’t let anyone in. There’s no one expected there before then. I’ll be there in half an hour and I’m getting you lunch.”

“Okay, I’ll be your lunch,” she giggled.

“Will you be my all-you-can-drink-and-fuck buffet?” his voice was gruff.

“Haha, very funny. And hell, yeah.”

“I love you,” he said softly, his voice breathy, laced with emotion.

Before there was any sort of awkward silence, he added, “See you in about thirty minutes. If something delays me even a minute after 1:00, panic room. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He was there at 12:26 and she felt her heartbeat’s tempo rise when he strolled in the door looking very much the GQ businessman. She felt like she hadn’t seen him in days. She was upstairs, watching over the railing as he entered with two men following him in with a rack filled with garment bags and suitcases and they both had bags as well. Tristan had his arms full too. He looked up and winked at her and tipped them and then when they left he trotted up the stairs and pulled her into a demanding kiss. Her insides turned to jelly. He tasted like lemon meringue pie.

“How’d you get here so fast?” she was breathless as he kissed her.

“I hurried. I missed you.” He kissed her deeply again and walked her to the bed and they were all over one another.

Kyla and Tristan’s t-shirt and boxers soon parted as he ripped them to shreds. She clawed at his dress shirt, popping a button as she fumbled through getting it off as fast as possible. He helped her by undoing his suit pants as he kicked off his shoes. She pushed his socks off with her feet and a moment later they were connected by lips, by wandering hands, by him deep inside of her, and by his teeth puncturing her throat.

By the time they were both sated, slightly sweaty, and snuggled up together basking in the afterglow, it was nearly 1:30. He was investigating her throat.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. His brows were furrowed as he touched her neck with his strong warm hands.

“It’s too marked up. Looks like I have no control.”

“What do you mean?” she clutched her throat.

“I love seeing my marks on you but don’t really relish the idea of others ogling your throat and my teeth marks are going to draw eyes there. There are too many marks,” he fingered the marks on the crook of her arm, “it looks sloppy.”

“Oh.” Would other vampires really be analyzing her bite marks and drawing conclusions about Tristan’s state of mind?

“We’ll tell the stylist to leave your hair down,” he reached fingers into her hair and fingered a curl distractedly, staring off into space.

The doorbell rang. Tristan jumped up and got quickly into a pair of jeans, commando, and trotted down the stairs quickly. Kyla shrank under the blankets.

She heard his voice, another male voice, a bit of laughter, and then the door shut and the lock clicked. Then he came up the stairs with a huge smile on his face, a pizza box in one hand and small paper bag in the other.

“Oh.” Kyla sat up with a big smile on her face, “Yum!” She clapped her hands.

He laughed and put the box down on the bed. The bag had two cans of grape Fanta pop. She took his dress shirt off the floor and pulled it over her head and fastened the buttons that remained, then dove in to the pizza, which was perfect. Oodles of cheese, roasted red peppers, pepperoni, pineapple, and sliced tomatoes. Just how she liked it and with her favorite pizza-paired beverage. Some liked beer or red wine with their pizza. Kyla liked grape soda pop with hers.