Vamp

The last two weeks, getting glimpses of her, have been the best and hardest of my life, no pun intended. And standing here, waiting to share the same air as her, has a voice in my head telling me I’m about to figure out what I’ve been waiting for my entire life. Because when I saw her in her black spandex body suit, running down the sidewalk at one in the morning, my heart changed. It’s not just the twitch in my dick she’s awoken; it’s the twitch in my heart that has me scared shitless.

Besides that, running by herself that time of night is dangerous. After the first night, I couldn’t stand it and bought a pair of high-powered binoculars and followed her at a safe distance, making sure she was safe until she was back behind the gates of her house.

“Wow.” Dimitri elbows me and jerks his head toward the entryway of the grand ballroom. “Would you just look at that.”

Fuck.

There she is. Every head in the place turns, and a weird kind of stillness descends as she—and what I’m hoping are her parents—enter though the archway that separates the ballroom from the marble entry of this enormous estate.

There’s this ethereal glow around them, and I glance up to see if there’s a spotlight aimed at them, but there’s nothing.

I say “hoping” they’re her parents, because honestly, I can’t tell if the woman standing with them is her mother or her sister, and the man only looks barely old enough to be her father. Maybe it’s just a good-looking family, or maybe it’s a lot of cosmetic surgery, but I’m praying to God that’s not her boyfriend or husband because if he is, I’ll have a lot of explaining to do when I knock him the fuck out and drag her back to my lair like a fucking caveman.

There’s an explosion in my chest, and in a flash my blood is like fire in my veins, making my heart pound and my cock thicken.

I want her.

No, that’s not right. I don’t just want her. I can’t think of any scenario where I could be without her.

And we’ve never even spoken a word.

This is crazy.

“Are they real?” Dimitri says on a disbelieving laugh. “They don’t look real. They’re actors, right? Like, I bet if we get closer we’ll recognize them from some movie or—”

My feet are already moving me through the crowd, without conscious instruction from me. It’s like I’m on a rope and she’s winding me in; there’s a tug in my center that’s impossible to resist. I can’t take my eyes off her plump lips, blood-red now just as they have been when I’ve watched her before. Her skin is flushed a perfect pink, and those blue eyes make me feel like I’m falling towards her, towards my own demise, but I don’t care.

Suddenly, there’s no air, my lungs burning as I break through the crowd, watching them as they graciously greet the children, seemingly unaware of the press cameras flashing all around. Her smile so luminescent, I look up again for the spotlight that doesn’t exist.

I ache at the sight of her red satin dress, hugging her curves up top, pushing her tits upward, and the image of my teeth marking her soft flesh flashes through my mind, like I’m some sort of monster with a newly discovered bloodlust.

“Jesus. She’s fucking unbelievable.” It’s Dimitri’s voice to my left. I glance over to see his eyes trained on what’s mine, and a flood of white fire erupts behind my eyes, blinding me with rage.

“Don’t fucking look at her,” I growl, lowering my stance, ready to tear his limbs off as I reach over and grab him by the tie.

“What the fuck?” He steps away, batting my arm down. “What’s wrong with you?”

He fixes his tie glaring at me while smoothing the lapels of his jacket.

“Right now, you’re what’s wrong with me.”

“Don’t be a prick. I’m not touching her, just admiring the scenery. I’m a man, you know. We do that. Not that you ever do.” He shakes his head.

I rein in the anger that grips my throat as I look around and see most of the other men in the room doing the same, and I wonder how I can drag her out of here without being arrested. The thought of them lusting after her is making me sick. I want to build walls around her because I know what they are thinking, and no one gets to think of her in that way but me.

They work their way through the crowd, and it’s the man I assume is her father who first catches my eye, tipping his head as if he can read my thoughts before smiling as he extends his hand.

“I’m Rudolf Ardelean. Thank you for attending. You are?”