She’d been dragged off and put in a room bigger than her whole apartment where a movie-star looking vampire was in a decorating store showroom bed beside her and telling her very matter-of-factly that he was going to fuck her and drink her blood. This was either a nightmare, she was being Punk’d, or she had actually stumbled (or, rather, been dragged) onto proof that vampires actually existed. Actual vampires.
How the heck did I get here? Why me?
She briefly thought about a sexy scene in a Dracula movie she’d seen a few years back where a vampire seduced a young woman in her bedroom late at night. She pushed the sexy scene out of her head. So many stories and books about vampires existed under the guise of fiction. The fact that she had now seen proof that they were real was utterly insane to her.
He leaned toward her, a smile on his lips, clearly intrigued by the fact that she was quite obviously pondering her fate.
“Wait,” she flexed the palm of her hand at him, halting him.
“Yes?” he asked expectantly, a wry gleam in his eyes.
“I do not consent.”
She couldn’t think of what else to say. She knew after what had transpired so far that she couldn’t likely physically fight him off without a weapon but maybe she could reason with him. She had to at least try.
“Consent?” he raised his brows.
“I don’t consent to this. Don’t you need my permission?”
“That’s permission to enter your house, not enter your….you.” He tilted his head and gave her a cocky smile, “And that’s one of the many vampire legends that are myths. I don’t need permission … for anything.”
“You gonna kill me?”
“Haven’t decided yet,” he said without pausing for thought.
The air seemed to almost visibly thicken between them. She had to stall to try to figure out how to get out of this situation.
“How reassuring,” she mumbled, then continued, “But why me? And why did you say something is,” she held her fingers up in mock quotes, “off” with me?”
“I might.”
“Might what?” she tilted her head at him.
“I might have to kill you. And you’re stalling,” he said, tilting his head the opposite way.
She started to tremble harder. She folded her arms across her chest and let out a deep breath to try to steady herself.
“Wouldn’t you try to stall if you were about to be killed?”
“Hmmm, I suppose,” he smirked, “You see, I’d only planned to fuck you, and bite you, of course, but now I have a dilemma.” He leaned forward, stone serious, and spoke slowly and expressively, “There’s something off here because I’m typically able to put women into a very compliant state … effortlessly. They look into my eyes, become mesmerized, and let me have my…wicked,” his icy blue eyes twinkled, “wicked way with them. Then afterwards… they just forget.” He shrugged, licked his lips, and then continued, “But you... little cherry bomb, with the feline eyes; you’re not being very compliant. I haven’t been able to mesmerize you. And I’m usually very good at that. What does that mean?”
Kyla shook her head, “Don’t know.”
“Hmm. As refreshing as it might be to wrestle with you some more and have some real fun,” he moistened his lips and eyed her hungrily, “you might not forget. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to be out there with the memory of me. It could complicate things.” He tucked a stray lock of dark curls that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. She winced at his touch but felt like there was static still connecting his fingers to her skin. She stared at his fingertips for a second, processing the sensation.
“I’m not sure I have time for complications right now,” he said, then added, “So, are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” He looked at his fingers as if he’d felt something, too.
Her scalp prickled. The handsome guy leaning way too close to her was not what he seemed, probably by design. Her armour was up and she was determined to not let it drop because he was good-looking (vast understatement!).
“What’s the easy way? How do I stay alive?”
“If you want easy, just lay back and enjoy. If you want hard, fight some more,” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, “Gotta be honest, cherry bomb, I think I’d prefer hard.” He lifted the tip of her long ponytail and wrapped it around his fist and gave a gentle tug. He raised one brow at her, “But easy or hard, I can’t make any promises about the ‘stay alive’ bit.”
“You do this often, do you?” she glared at him, “Have sex with and then kill women?”
He shrugged and took a whiff of the hair in his hand. “I don’t usually kill them.”