Page 8

8

AN ASSHOLE

RUSSEL

“No, it doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

My mother sniffed at the glass delicately and took a slow sip. Her wide-brimmed hat cast a dark shade over her face, but her eyes gleamed copper. She never went more than a few days between meals. Was she still having the last boy toy stay at her condo? What was his name? Giulio or Giorgio or something like that.

The first interview with Helen and Pierce was out, and the reactions were as expected—everything from outrage to an outpouring of support, but the majority were neutral to positive. Since it was the most recent big news in society, my mother had to dissect it during our semi-regular Sunday outing to a wine bar.

“I keep telling you,” she said, “monogamy is a human invention, and not a very smart one at that.”

“I know several monogamous couples where one of the partners is a vampire,” I countered. “They are rare, but they do exist.”

“Yes, and I bet if you knew them well , you’d realize they all have some kind of deal going on, just like Helen Snyder and Pierce Black.”

“I met them in person. They seem to love each other.”

My mother made a scoffing sound. “Oh please, darling. They capitalize on their relationship. And good for them! Why humanity still insists on archaic nonsense like marriage is beyond me.”

“And how is Giorgio?”

“Who?” She blinked at me and gulped more wine.

“Your latest juice box.”

She curled her lip. “You sound bitter, Russel. It’s unattractive. Gino has moved out.”

“You kicked him out already?”

“He was with me for merely three months, but I paid for two semesters of graduate school for him. And it wasn’t like I dropped him on the street. He’s sharing an apartment with a friend of his. I’m convinced he doesn’t regret his choices.”

Yes, most of my mother’s lovers were less than half my age. By now, I was used to it.

“I met a lovely, delectable man at your sister’s fundraiser last week. He’s spending the weekend.”

“How old is he?”

“Old enough to make his own decisions.” Her smirk told me everything I didn’t need to know.

“You’re incorrigible.”

She looked satisfied with herself as she drank her wine. “Your grandmother lived to be one hundred and twenty-seven, remember? I have plenty of time to date old men when I’m closer to the grave. And what about you? Still feeding at clubs?”

“At least I don’t have to break up with someone ten times a year.”

“I didn’t mean to judge you, Russel. You did that yourself. There is nothing wrong with finding meals and sexual partners at dinner clubs.”

I sighed. “I’m sorry, Mother. You’re right. I haven’t been myself lately.”

“It’s the season. You’ve always been sensitive to prolonged daylight.”

I suppressed a groan. Did she talk to Levi? They barely knew each other. “I’m fine.”

“You should eat more often, Russel. You look ghastly. I swear, you look older than me! Why a handsome man like yourself would voluntarily starve himself, I’ll never understand. You need reliable partners who’ll be at your disposal, who’ll come to you and take care of your needs with enthusiasm. Trolling clubs for strangers is exhausting, and some of those people taste vile.”

“Do you remember how my last attempt at a relationship with a human ended?”

My mother threw her hands in the air theatrically. “Because he expected monogamy.”

Actually, I expected him to be loyal. But mistakes were made on both sides.

“If you’re clear about your wishes, nobody gets hurt,” my mother said. “And I’m telling you, some of those young men out there are very accommodating. Gino wanted me to feed from him daily. I took only a few mouthfuls, of course, but he had amazing stamina and was so responsive! And Marc tastes even better. Do you think this is all skincare and makeup? Pfft. Young blood will rejuvenate you.” She grinned as she finished her glass. My mother was proud of her lifestyle and flaunted it whenever she could.

Before I could change the subject, she dropped another bomb. “I also saw your employer, Anthony Fowles, at the fundraiser. He seems very reserved. Does he treat you well?”

“He’s good. I like working for him.”

“Hm. When I said who I was, he told me about this thing you’re having on Friday in two weeks.”

Shit . “It’s just a small mingle.”

“I’d love to see where you work, and I’m already invited. I don’t need your approval.” She winked playfully, but I knew she’d be hurt if I told her not to come.

“I’d love for you to be there,” I lied.

Her face lit up. She was like a fish in the sea at any social gathering. Or more like a shark in a tank.

Then it hit me. She might meet Eddie. I hadn’t thought that through.

* * *

I didn’t mind working late. I didn’t need to sleep for more than a few hours a day, and once the night fell, I usually got more alert—when I was well-fed.

It had been twenty-eight days. Five more hungry nights since last Sunday when my own mother told me I looked like shit.

Why did I do this to myself, indeed? I didn’t think I’d ever gone without blood that long. Rationally, I knew I was far from real danger. Vampires had made it months without feeding and survived. I wondered, though, if they made it with their sanity intact.

I should be staying away from Eddie. Instead, I kept finding excuses to be close to him.

After another podcast interview our clients had done earlier today, we set up a workstation in one of the meeting rooms to monitor the media. The bot examined the feed for us and reacted to predefined terms, but the results still had to be categorized and evaluated manually. If we left it until Monday, we could have a shitstorm on our hands.

Eddie sat a mere three feet away from me. In the dim light coming from the screens, his face looked surrounded by a halo in all the colors of the rainbow. I could clearly see his pulse fluttering on the side of his throat.

“The keywords aren’t giving us anything weird. None of the usual suspects have picked it up yet, aside from Dan Gennaro, but today’s episode had low stats compared to his podcast’s average reach, so my guess is he won’t return to the topic. I think we’re good until tomorrow.”

I could hear what he was saying, but my brain didn’t engage with the subject. It was otherwise occupied. Eddie’s lips moved, his eyes scanned the screen, and I got fascinated by the tiny hairs on his cheeks and nose, visible in the white glow from the computer. His skin looked like the softest velvet.

Leaning closer, I breathed him in.

His humid exhale, the faint perfume from his antiperspirant, a hint of his sweat and musk, the smell of his shampoo… I had all of that catalogued and memorized and should be used to it, but my reaction to the essence of him was only getting stronger.

To my frustration, I realized I couldn’t recall his exact flavor, not even while smelling him next to me. Was the taste of his blood too complex, too sophisticated to be taken in fully and remembered? Was it so elusive that I couldn’t reimagine drinking from him? I couldn’t even dream of tasting him again, which frustrated me to no end.

What had his moans sounded like? I remembered his weight in my lap and his kisses, but I wished I could replay the sound of his orgasm.

“Russel?”

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

He frowned, scrutinizing my face. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. It’s just that you don’t look good. Are you sick? But you can’t…get sick, can you?”

I blinked. I stared at his concerned expression, panic churning in the pit of my stomach.

Eddie dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“I’m fine. I’m just…”

“Tired?”

I pushed away from the table and from him, trying to get some distance. The wheels on the chair squeaked against the floor. One of them seemed stuck, and the chair stopped still too close to him. After shaking my head in a futile attempt to clear it, I glanced at the city lights outside. The nightfall was always such a relief.

“It’s okay. I just haven’t eaten in a while.”

Silence fell, heavy and meaningful. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

“Oh.”

Closing his laptop, Eddie stood. It seemed he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I wouldn’t blame him. He was alone at the office late in the evening with a vampire who had just admitted he was hungry.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, my voice weak. “I’ll be fine.”

Closing my eyes, I leaned back in the chair. With Eddie further away from my body, the air in the room seemed colder. I shivered. My arms and legs weighed a ton. I’d get up soon. I just needed a moment.

But Eddie hadn’t left the room. I heard him shuffle by the door.

“You’re really pale, and there are these dark circles under your eyes. You look almost gray in the face.” He sounded concerned and kind, not judgmental in the least. Then came the quiet but explosive question. “How long has it been?”

I exhaled, not opening my eyes. “Four weeks.”

“But that was…”

I gave him a single nod. Yes, he’d been my last meal.

“Why?” He breathed the word.

“It’s okay, Eddie. It’s not your fault or your responsibility. You can go.”

I needed to pull myself together. I had to go out and feed. Tonight. All the screeching demons in hell! Just the thought of touching anyone else but the boy in front of me made me nauseous.

Why was he still here, staring at me?

I pushed myself up. “Go home, Eddie.” I didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh.

With a grunt, I braced my hand on the desk…and I fell back into the chair. My legs just wouldn’t hold me up. My head was spinning.

It was Eddie’s scent. It made me drunk. I knew I had the strength to move; I just needed fresh air.

“How can I help you?” Eddie’s whisper sounded terrified.

“Go.” It was supposed to be an order, but the word just fell from my lips, barely audible.

I didn’t want him to leave.

Eddie stepped closer instead and put his hand on my forehead. Fuck . His wrist was right there. The warmth of his blood pulsed through the thin sliver of air between us, right against my lips.

“You’re ice cold, and you can’t even get up,” he said indignantly.

I forced my eyelids up to look at him.

He was so lovely. All of him. So earnest and sweet. Just beautiful.

Eddie pursed his lips, his expression hardening with determination.

“This won’t be sexual. I’m just helping you out, okay?”

Before I could comprehend what he meant, his arm was extended toward my face, his exposed veins in front of my mouth. He parked his butt on the table and gripped the edge with his other hand.

“C’mon. Do your worst.”

Heavens.

If you were crawling through the desert in the baking midday heat but weren’t allowed to drink from the sacred lake in the oasis in front of you, would you obey the rule? Or would you dive in headfirst?

I cradled Eddie’s wrist in my hands, opened my mouth, and sank my fangs into his buttery skin. I made an involuntary noise, just a sinister hiss. Feeling Eddie shudder, I tried to suck gently at first. But then the molten heat trickled into my mouth.

Colors clashed on the insides of my eyelids, like butterflies and autumn leaves spiraling in the wind.

I cut the wound open wider, no doubt making it painful, but I couldn’t help it. Eddie’s blood flowed faster, and I gulped it down. My moans and growls must have scared him. I felt him shake, but I could only hold his arm tighter.

There was nothing like it. Nobody had ever compared, and nobody would ever come close.

Eddie’s blood was the most potent drug.

When it filled the hollow pit in my stomach, the familiar satisfaction easing my pain, I glanced up at him.

He stared back, wide eyes pinned on my lips, his pupils huge. He breathed with his mouth open, the tip of his tongue visible. I swallowed and sucked harder, not taking my eyes off his face. He panted, his expression full of fear and wild, reckless desire.

He was breathtaking.

I drank too much. Surely more than a pint.

Eddie’s chest was rising rapidly. With my stomach full, I regained control of my body and maybe even a little bit of sense. I licked the wound several times, lingering, making sure it closed properly.

Then I pressed a kiss to the spot.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He didn’t move. He gazed at me with raw hunger, no hint of self-awareness in his features. His panting breaths came faster and louder. It didn’t matter that I’d bitten him only to feed; some of my venom still made it into his system.

His erection was right there, tenting his slacks.

He whimpered, and his hips jerked before he stiffened, his hand holding the desk so hard the wood creaked.

I was an asshole.

I slid off the chair and onto my knees. In seconds, I had his slacks open and his underwear tucked under his balls. His cock was heavy with blood, the veins throbbing. My need to give him relief was instinctual.

I sucked him down into the back of my throat.

“Aah!”

Both Eddie’s hands went into my hair. He clutched my head to him as he bucked with abandon. I placed my hands on his hips, not guiding him or restraining him but letting him know it was okay and that he could use me.

He thrust hard, fucking my mouth like a hole, jabbing his cockhead as deep as he could. I didn’t mind one bit. Not like I had a gag reflex.

“Augh. Oh fuck. Fuck!”

I tightened my lips around the base of his cock and swallowed his cum. The knowledge that it was now in me, together with his blood, was intoxicating.

I merely had to squeeze my erection through my pants, and it was game over. Groaning around Eddie’s hard cock lodged in my throat, I came into my underwear.

Eddie wavered.

I shot up and hugged him before he could keel over. I brought him gently to the floor, where I sat on my butt, and he curled to my chest.

I weaved my fingers through his hair.

Minutes went by, and he didn’t move an inch. His heartbeat calmed down ever so slowly, but then it picked up again. I could almost hear his thoughts. Any moment now, my stolen time with him would be over.

A few more seconds. God, I loved just holding him.

Eddie broke the silence, his voice empty. “I can’t believe I did that.” He fumbled for his groin, tucked himself in, and zipped up.

“You didn’t do anything. The responsibility is mine.”

He pushed at my chest feebly, and I loosened my embrace. With an unfamiliar, dull pain in my chest, I watched him move away from me and lean his back against the opposite wall. He put his hand on his forearm in what seemed an unconscious move, covering the place where I’d bitten him. The scar was long gone.

“We can’t do this again,” he murmured. He was pale and solemn, his earlier passion gone.

I was such an asshole.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. This is my fault. You’re safe from me, okay? I won’t ever jeopardize your career, I promise.”

“I started it. I thought I could hold back…and just let you drink. But I…”

“I shouldn’t have done it. I knew how strongly you get affected by the venom. I shouldn’t have bitten you.”

He shook his head, a self-deprecating smile marring his lips. “We’re both at fault, then. Can we forget about it?”

Impossible. “Of course.”

“Thanks for being discreet.”

“No problem.”

“Maybe don’t…don’t let yourself get hungry like that again?”

How could I feed from someone else ever again? I pushed down my panic and pasted on a fake smile. “Sure. Stay put, I’ll get you a drink.”

My cum was getting sticky in my underwear as I walked down the empty hallway. I thought of it as too mild a punishment for my stupidity.

The pickings at the office break room were slim late on a Friday evening. I brought Eddie a glass of orange juice, and he gulped it down in one go.

I ached to hold him. I told myself it was just to make sure he was okay, but as his gaze sharpened and his eyes lost the glassy, hazy quality of the post-orgasmic lethargy, I had no excuse.

He braced himself against the wall with one arm and slowly stood.

“I’m good.” He nodded to himself. “I’ll go home now.”

“Let me get you a cab.”

“No, I should go. We shouldn’t leave the building together.”

The night receptionist. But surely, he wouldn’t suspect something just because we left at the same time? There were multiple companies in the building, and he probably didn’t even know which one we worked for. Besides, colleagues went in and out in groups all the time.

Eddie seemed eager to put distance between us, though.

“Okay. I’ll wait a few minutes.”

“Thanks.”

He didn’t look at me anymore as he packed his things. He murmured a soft good-night and stalked out, his head down and shoulders slumped with what could only be shame and regret.

I couldn’t make myself regret anything. In fact, I was already trying to come up with a way to taste him again.

And there was no way I could wait four weeks.