Page 5

5

MY NEW BOSS

EDDIE

I was going to be sick.

“He seems okay,” Cat said as we walked down the hallway. “I think I’ve heard the name before. Anthony was all but melting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so thrilled. He almost smiled. Did you notice?”

“Yeah.” I choked out the word, looking away so Cat couldn’t see my face.

“Eddie, you’re not upset that our new boss is a vampire, are you?” she whispered as we took the sharp turn toward our little aquarium of an office.

“No. Of course not.”

“I bet it’s strategic. Frank said we lost a couple of big accounts last year because we lacked expertise in the specifics of vampiric socialization.” She used her fingers to make quotation marks in the air. Then she pushed our door open. I walked in behind her and sank into my chair.

Cat pointed a finger at me. Her eyes were shining with sudden understanding. “That’s why Anthony asked us to read the book on vampires! He wants to widen our clientele. But man, those cases can get messy.”

“Messier than what we’re already dealing with?” I asked, my voice wobbly.

She didn’t seem to notice. “I dunno. The details always seem a little juicier when a vampire is involved.” She waggled her eyebrows, the tip of her tongue peeking out.

I had to keep it together. Cat was the nicest to me but also an incorrigible gossip. I could never tell her that I knew Russel Greenwood from before or how I’d met him. I could never tell anyone.

This was a PR crisis management agency. To quote the great Anthony Fowles, discretion and impeccable ethics were the cornerstones of this organization. It was a miracle I’d landed this job, and as the youngest, wildest card on the team, I’d been sitting on the edge of my chair since day one. The tiniest misstep, and I was out.

And now my new boss was the vampire whose lap I’d humped at a dinner club last Friday.

Oh my God, I’m screwed.

My stomach heaved again, and I swallowed against it. I thanked the stars and Sheri that she’d gotten me out of the club before I could have gone home with Russel. I couldn’t imagine the terror I’d feel meeting him this morning after a weekend of actual fucking.

“Eddie. Hello. You in there?”

“I’m sorry, Cat. I think I feel a headache coming on. I slept like shit.”

“Do you want an ibuprofen?” She began rooting in her bag. “I have some left from my last period.”

Not having the brain capacity to come up with an excuse, I took the pill and chased it down with water from the bottle I kept on my desk. Then I went to the bathroom to refill it. I needed a moment alone.

During the ten-thirty meeting, I kept my head down. I answered when asked, but otherwise, I tried to blend in with the pale wood paneling behind me. I could barely look at him. It didn’t help that he was frighteningly handsome in his suit and black shirt, and everything he said was thoughtful and on point. I met his eyes once and all but puked from anxiety, which the attraction I felt brought me. I would have to get myself under control eventually, but right then, all I wanted to do was curl up in a corner and stay in a fetal position until the world went under.

I was just leaving when Russel called my name.

“Eddie, lunch at twelve. Come into my office, please.”

My throat was dry just from his use of my name. I tried to swallow. “I’ll be there.”

“I’ll order in. What would you like?”

“Um. Whatever you’re having. I’m not picky.”

Russel’s lips twitched, and I wanted the ground to swallow me. He didn’t eat human food. In fact, I knew firsthand what and how he ate. I was most thankful that he didn’t say anything but waited for me to catch up.

“I apologize. Please, forgive me. I… Sushi. A California roll. I can order it myself. Sorry. Thank you.”

“No need. I’ll take care of it. See you at twelve.”

“Thank you, sir. Russel. Sorry.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake! Could I act less like a bumbling moron?

I hurried out of the meeting room with my ass on fire. Cat wanted to dissect our new boss, but I didn’t trust myself to talk about Russel and keep a poker face.

“I’m sorry, Cat, I need silence. The headache is killing me.”

“Eddie, baby, that’s stress. You should try yoga with me.”

“I might. Just…I need a short break before lunch.”

“I got you.”

She made a zipper gesture over her mouth and scooted closer to her desk. She grimaced apologetically when her chair screeched against the floor.

The shock was wearing off, but the sheer dread in the pit of my stomach persisted. What if Russel decided that having me on his team would be an inconvenience? A few words between him and Anthony, and I could be unemployed by tomorrow.

I spent the next forty-five minutes staring at my screen, pretending to focus while replaying every possible horror scenario in my head.

“Thank you for coming, Eddie. Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you.” The door clicked shut behind me, and the walls of the office seemed to be closing in on me. It didn’t help that the blinds were down, the room dark aside from a weak lamp on Russel’s desk. The lighting looked way too intimate and a little ominous.

I worked hard to hide my rising panic.

Of course, Russel was smiling, completely at ease. “Sorry for the blackout. Too much daylight gives me migraines, and I didn’t want to cover half of my face with shades when meeting my team.” He gestured to the chair across from him, and I sat.

“It’s okay. I understand.” My voice came out shaky, dammit. I slowly breathed into my stomach, an exercise I’d learned to calm down when I felt exposed. It was a discreet trick, supposedly unnoticeable, but this man, with his heightened senses, must have seen through me. He’d be able to hear my heartbeat from across the hall.

He eyed me as if he expected me to bolt, then said, “I’m as surprised as you must be.”

I doubted it, but I stretched my lips in what I hoped resembled a polite smile.

“I’m also rather disappointed,” he continued. “I was hoping to meet you again, just not under these circumstances.” His golden eyes were warm, his tone kind. He leaned forward, assessing me with obvious interest. Jesus . He wouldn’t flirt with me, would he? Did I want him to?

“I went back to the club,” he said. “I spent the weekend looking for you.”

I blinked. He…what? I felt myself leaning forward as if he had me on a string.

Are you insane? He’s your boss!

I mentally slapped myself and straightened in the chair. I’d have to be tougher than this.

You’ve been through way worse. You’re a professional. Act like it!

“My job is very important to me.” My tone was as steely as I could muster, and the words had an immediate effect. Russel moved back, and his expression fell.

Seconds ticked by, and I tried like hell not to squirm. He stared at me, unblinking, his expression giving nothing away.

“You’re very good at it,” he finally said. “I’ve read your profile and the case reports. Anthony is correct, praising your talent.”

“He gave me a chance when I was fresh out of school and without any connections. I’ve been trying not to disappoint him.” Russel was a communication and PR expert. Surely, he could read between the lines.

“I know that you finished your MA on a partial scholarship and that while you have a modest salary, Fowles & Tito is paying off your student loan.”

“Anthony has been very kind and generous.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and I knew what he was about to say next. “Julia Perkins is your mother.”

I could only nod in acknowledgment.

“I’ve read about the case,” he added.

He and the rest of the damn country. But I couldn’t let my irritation show. Did Russel have any idea how much I owed Anthony Fowles? When my mom was sentenced to seven years in prison and the government had seized my family’s assets, I had been sleeping on couches, relying on my dwindling circle of friends. Sheri was the only one who’d never let me down. Then Anthony saw something in me and gave me a chance despite the train wreck my life had become.

Russel’s expression didn’t show much as he stared at me, but when he finally spoke, his tone was kind.

“Eddie, I won’t put you in a difficult position. We can forget we’ve ever met before today.”

Was that sadness in his changeable eyes? It couldn’t be. We shared a fumble in the dark, nothing more.

“Thank you for your understanding.” The formal sentence sounded awful, but what else was I supposed to say?

Russel exhaled and shifted in his chair. I could tell the smile he offered was fake.

“Well, then. You must be hungry.”

He moved a paper box my way, and I opened it. A fresh California roll with all the trimmings, a cup of miso soup, and a wakame salad. This wasn’t from the cheap hole-in-the-wall around the corner. Pushing through my nervousness, I ate while we talked.

For the next half hour, we discussed cases and approaches. Russel remained professional, and it would have been incredibly stupid of me to be even the least bit disappointed about that.

* * *

After work, I went to the gym and spent half an hour on the treadmill and twenty minutes in the sauna, first trying to run off my nervous energy and then cooking it. I made it home at nine, still feeling like a breakdown was just a breath away. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else, I joined Aaron in the living room for a bit of mindless destruction, playing Goat Simulator. Except it left me hyped and jittery.

When I lay in bed, my heart thumped and I felt too warm. In another attempt to distract myself, I reached for the book that Anthony had once recommended to us before he hired Russel. It had been lying unopened on my nightstand since I’d brought it home.

Common Vampire Myths and the Truth Behind Them . I opened the book on a random page and read.

The idea that a vampire can be incinerated by direct sunlight appears already in Egyptian hieroglyphic writings from 2700 BC and probably existed in oral legends even earlier.

Like in most ancient civilizations, with the notable exceptions of Greece and Rome, the Egyptian vampiric community stayed hidden and fed as nocturnal predators. Written legal proceedings preserved on papyrus document cases where a vampire was accused of killing and sentenced to death in the sun. The unfortunate soul was thrown into a cage and left in direct sunlight until they perished. Historians agree it’s highly unlikely that actual vampires were captured and punished this way. Most probably, the prisoners were humans who died of heatstroke and dehydration after a few days.

Since vampires almost only fed at night, it’s plausible their human victims assumed vampires could be hurt by light. Jewels depicting the sun were used as charms against a vampire attack. In contrast, those who experienced the effect of vampire venom might have sought a repeat of the experience by visiting certain places at night. A part of the port in Alexandria called the Bed of Sekhmet was rumored to be such a place. While there were likely many nightlife establishments and brothels in the area, it is unknown whether actual vampires frequented them.

Even though they live openly and feed consensually, most vampires report they avoid daylight when they can. The vampiric eye can distinguish millions of colors, with the spectrum stretching to infrared wavelengths. Due to their extreme sensitivity to light, most vampires experience impaired vision in direct sunlight. Long exposure to sunlight can cause migraine-like symptoms.

I kept thinking about Russel, the blinds in his office, and how hard it must be for him to have a day job and only sleep at night. How would I fare if I had to work nights and barely ever see daylight?

Hell, if I kept reading, I’d only fixate on him more. Annoyed, I put the book away and turned off the lamp.

It was past eleven. I should sleep if I was to function at work tomorrow. Jerking off could help, but then I would inevitably fantasize about Russel Greenwood, who was my boss .

I tossed and turned, going in circles in my head.

I thought of Cat, Anthony, and Frank—people who trusted me and vouched for me, who stood up for me with clients whenever someone doubted me. I felt like a liar and a fraud, and I hadn’t even done anything wrong.

Yet .

When Russel had leaned closer, his breath fanning my face… I spent the weekend looking for you.

He did look sad.

And I was too. I had been toying with the idea of going back to the club this Friday, hoping to meet him again. I could vividly remember the sensation of his lips on my throat, his hand on my ass…

I rolled on the bed, kicking at the blanket to spread it out better.

No lusting after Russel Greenwood. My self-control was better than that.

* * *

I walked along the line of glass cubicles—we called them terrariums for us gerbils. Only execs had actual walls, except they had exchanged some of them for mirrors. Strange. I glimpsed my own image in one and froze. My eyes wide with shock, I stared at myself.

I couldn’t be naked at work, for fuck’s sake!

I covered my groin with a hand and looked around, panicking. Where were my clothes? At my desk? Where was my desk? This looked like a different floor. I didn’t recognize any of the furniture. There were no plants and no pictures on the walls.

I stopped in front of another mirror. A twin wound sat at the base of my throat, two pin-pricks of red. As I stared at them, they began oozing blood. Bright red, it trickled down my torso.

Russel stood behind me. His shirt was pristine, and it occurred to me he’d never get the bloodstains out of it if he touched me. His hands covered my belly. He tugged me closer, and I could feel his hard dick against my ass through the thin material of his slacks. He stroked up my chest, over my nipples, until he clasped my throat with his strong hand. He smeared the blood around. Red seeped into the cuff of his white shirt, but he didn’t seem to care.

I met his eyes in the mirror. Their color was copper and sunset. He petted me, painting my body with my blood, as he nuzzled my earlobe. Then he circled his bloodstained hand around my cock.

I moaned, bucking into his hold.

“Please.”

We were at the office, where anyone could walk in on us. But I had lost my job, and nobody would want anything to do with me ever again. Russel licked my throat, humming, as he jerked me off.

“I’ve been looking for you, Eddie.”

The blood kept flowing. When I glanced at my feet, I stood in a pool of it.

Gasping for breath, I sat up on my bed. I grabbed my throat and blinked into the pale morning light. I wasn’t bleeding. I was at home in my bedroom, and I still had my job. I was fine. Just a dream. A bonkers, disturbing, sexual dream about my new boss. No biggie.

I fell back on the bed with a groan. My dick was throbbing in my pajama pants. I gave up. I took them off, fished the lube out of the nightstand, and lay on top of the covers. If I fingered myself, I’d come harder. I needed a good one to drain the sexual frustration.

With one slippery hand around my cock and two fingers pushing into my opening, I closed my eyes. I didn’t think about the dream.

Instead, I imagined what would have happened, had I gone home with Russel last Friday. I visualized a nondescript sofa in a dark living room, me kneeling on the floor with my ass pushed out, hugging some pillow. Warm lips brushed the crook of my neck and shoulder, and a thick cock inched into my body.

He would fuck me slowly and shallowly to rile me up, just tickling my cockhead with his fingers.

And then he would push his dick into me to the hilt and bite me.

With my fingers in my hole, as deep as I could shove them, I came all over my stomach. I panted, letting the reality creep back in. After wiping myself off with a few tissues and washing my hands in the bathroom, I checked my phone.

It was half past five a.m. Groaning, I buried my face in the pillow.