Page 9

9

TEMPTATION

EDDIE

Historians agree that the myths about the incubus and succubus are the product of human-vampire interaction. During clandestine times, vampires have used their superior strength and reflexes to enter human homes to feed. Whether this intrusion was welcome or not was highly individual.

A unique perspective is offered in the diary of the Castilian Prince Philip, the second son of King Charles VI. The diary details Philip’s relationship with a being he described as the incubus who visited him at night over the span of at least a decade. The unusually well-preserved eighteenth-century writings were considered fake until a modern analysis provided significant proof that they were likely genuine, and that the prince was of a sound mind when he wrote them.

Prince Philip was betrothed to Isabella Theresa from the royal Habsburg family, but it is possible that the marriage was never consummated. Instead, Isabella’s seven children have been fathered by her many lovers, with Philip’s knowledge and support. Philip even arranged suitable men for his wife, recruiting them from less influential aristocracy and clergy, and binding them to secrecy under threat. About his own love life, Philip wrote the following:

“Had I ever thought him a demon? He’s an angel. The nights I’m alone, I lay awake, begging God to send him to me. When he finally climbs into my window, I fall to my knees and kiss his feet and loins. That is my prayer. I worship his divine shaft and swallow his seed for it is the elixir of life. The pleasure he gives me is greater than anything else my earthly presence can offer. I don’t want the kingdom, not now and not in afterlife. I give my body to my angel to consume, to drink from it and to possess it, and only when he enters me, I am whole.”

The book was not helping at all. I considered throwing it out, but instead, I kept returning to it and even rereading some passages. When I finally put it away and closed my eyes, Russel’s lips wrapped around my cock, sliding to the base, replayed like a video on a loop in my head. And so, I’d barely slept for the past three nights.

I dreaded seeing Russel at work on Monday, and a part of me—the self-sabotaging, stupid part—couldn’t wait to see him. Would he pretend it never happened? Could I? It was what we’d agreed to do.

But then, in the 10:30 meeting, our gazes met, and his look was all too knowing. We had a secret—it felt like he and I were co-conspirators now.

The best solution would be to see each other as little as possible, but we’d be working closely together for the upcoming months and not just on the Black-Snyder account. Two other projects Anthony had entrusted us with were on a need-to-know basis, with only Russel and me involved.

I couldn’t avoid him, not even for a single day.

“Eddie, a word?” Like a shot in the back.

Nobody would find it weird that he asked me to stay behind. I cringed, nonetheless. It felt as if everyone in the room must know he had his mouth on my cock just from the way he said my name.

Cat closed the door after everyone filed out of the conference room, and I reluctantly turned to face Russel. My hands were shaking.

“Are you okay?” he asked, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

“Yes, of course.” My reply came on autopilot, but I sounded breathless. No way would he buy it.

“I was worried about you on Friday. I should have made sure you got home okay.”

“We agreed never to mention it again.” Even as I said it, I made an involuntary step forward, my body gravitating toward him.

“I’m sorry.” Head bent, he looked sheepish, but then he glanced at me through his eyelashes. “I find it difficult.”

Why did I grin? I was supposed to insist on distance, dammit! But God, if he’d been thinking of me like I’d been thinking of him, I might throw all caution to the wind.

“Russel, I…”

The sound of the door opening made me jump. Frank walked in, followed by Vivian.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know you were still here. Are we interrupting?”

“No, of course not,” Russel said. “We’re just leaving. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll look at the materials you’ve sent and get back to you.”

He walked out, and I stood there, stunned.

I must have looked out of it because Vivian touched my arm, motherly concern on her face. “Eddie? Do you need something?”

“No. No.” I scrambled for something normal to say. “I just have this nagging feeling I must have forgotten something.”

Frank groaned. “Tell me about it. It’s been haunting me all weekend. With my luck, it’s an anniversary or someone’s birthday, and Shelly will kill me.”

“That’s why I share my calendar with Juan,” Vivian said. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t remember how many children he has, let alone the days they were born.”

I laughed appropriately and hurried out of there.

* * *

We were swamped with work for the rest of the week, and I was grateful for it. I had enough tasks to distract me from Russel’s constant presence. Except he kept giving me these looks—discreet and rare, so nobody else noticed, but I soaked them up even as they terrified me.

He looked at me like I was a piece of chocolate cake. It was disturbing and hot, and it drove me bonkers. My nightly jerk-off sessions were full of fantasies about him. I didn’t even try to go back to my usual spank bank material. On Wednesday, I fucked myself with a dildo fantasizing about Russel doing me raw on the conference room table.

Sadly, it wasn’t just attraction. I could have dealt with mere lust, but he kept noticing me in ways that messed with my head. He remembered everything I’d ever said and brought it up casually as if paying this much attention to me was natural. The way we worked together was seamless, and I’d never had anyone treat me with such easy, natural respect. It blew my mind and inflated my ego.

By Friday, the one last functioning brain cell in the back of my head was waving a red flag. Don’t stay after hours .

But then I thought I could just prepare some stuff for Monday, draft that last press release, and schedule a few emails so I wouldn’t have to log in on Sunday evening. Lies, lies, lies! Stop stalling and go home!

I knew Russel was still in his office. I always knew where he was—I was borderline obsessive about that. Then it was past seven, and I heard steps in the hallway.

“You’re still here?”

He stood in the doorway.

“I’m almost done.”

“Something that can’t wait till next week?”

“Monday will be busy. I thought I’d get a head start.”

“Have you always been so responsible, Eddie?”

Was there a double meaning? Was he asking if I would consider being less responsible with him? Was he going to hit on me? Why the fuck did I feel giddy at the idea of him trying to seduce me?

I put my tablet into my bag and shrugged into my jacket. “Not always, no.”

He grinned. “What’s the most reckless thing you’ve done?”

Asking you to bite me.

I couldn’t say that. I must have been blushing because he averted his gaze, smiling benevolently like he was giving me privacy to work through my embarrassment.

“Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to take a walk with me?”

“Um.”

He lifted a hand, showing me his palm. “Just a walk. I won’t do anything inappropriate, I promise.”

“Okay.”

He gestured for me to go first, and my shoulder nearly brushed his chest as I passed him.

We stood next to each other in the elevator, and I struggled to keep my breathing under control. I kept staring at the metal door in front of my face, but I could smell him, pine and a hint of wood smoke, and my heartbeat went wild. He must have heard.

“Eddie, you don’t have to fear me,” he murmured.

“I’m not afraid of you.” I wasn’t, was I? I was afraid of myself, of this pull between us that eroded everything I’d thought I knew about myself.

“No?”

He was dangerous for me, but not because he was a vampire and I was his prey. “I’m…” …scared of wanting you .

“Nervous?”

I let out a helpless chuckle. “Always.”

“Why am I making you nervous?”

It was such an unfair question. “I don’t want to answer that.”

He sighed, but it was soft, without frustration, like he understood. “Okay.”

The elevator buzzed, and seconds passed.

“I’m nervous around you too,” he said.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true. I’m afraid to do something wrong. I don’t want to cause you any harm.”

I glanced at him, surprised by his admission. “Can’t you just…not cause any then?”

God, his face! Yearning, sadness, and tenderness. When I saw him look at me like that, the crushing wave of want nearly flattened me.

“I’m selfish, and I’m not being fair to you.” His gaze dropped to my lips. “Eddie, do you want me to stay away from you?”

Yes. Tell him to stay away. Tell him to be cold and impersonal and never look at you like this again.

I couldn’t say it. Caught in his warm, golden eyes, I couldn’t make myself form a single word, let alone a sentence. He wasn’t hungry now, not like last time, but he still wanted me and that was intoxicating.

The elevator dinged, and the door slid open.

Russel broke eye contact and walked out. I followed. After we said goodbye to the receptionist, he paused on the sidewalk outside.

I needed to get away from him as soon as possible because, in my current state, he could crook a finger, and I’d go with him anywhere, even to his bed.

“I’m that way.” I jabbed a finger toward the subway station.

He scanned my face, and I tried not to squirm. I half expected him to ask me something more, but he didn’t.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked resigned. “Have a lovely weekend, Eddie, and I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Monday, yes,” I mumbled. “Goodnight.”

I spun around and ran.

I should have told him in no uncertain terms that nothing would ever happen between us, that he was never to allude to our sexual history ever again, and that we would, from now on, remain strictly professional.

Instead, I spent the subway ride home daydreaming about how he had looked at me and what we could have done if I’d dared.

* * *

The familiar sense of gloom fell on me as I walked the gray corridor to the visiting area. When they had first arrested Mom, I thought I would only ever see her through the plexiglass I knew from movies, but the room looked more like my high school classroom. We weren’t allowed to hug, but we could sit at a table and talk and maybe pretend we were at a café or something—where wardens stood at every corner.

“You’re pale, Benedict.”

“I’m fine. Work’s hectic, but I enjoy it.”

“Good.”

Her smile was weak. She didn’t look sick or anything like that, but I was used to her wearing makeup at all times. The Julia Perkins I knew never left her bedroom without impeccable contouring on her surgically enhanced face. Now she sat here wearing an orange jumpsuit, and the color looked garish on her. She must hate that her roots were growing out and her platinum hair looked faded and frizzy.

“Anthony Fowles is good to you?” she asked.

“Yes. He’s great. But I don’t work close to him. The few clients he still takes care of are all corporate.”

“Right. And you’re in personal brand.” She looked around distractedly.

“Yes.”

“That’ll come in handy once I’m out of here.” She laughed, but I couldn’t. “What clients do you have now?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“C’mon. I’m bored out of my mind. Can’t you share a little bit of gossip with your mama?”

“No, Mom. I can’t.”

“I forget. You always follow the rules, don’t you?” Her smirk was bitter.

Yes, I’d told the truth on the witness stand. Not once during my biweekly visits had she missed an opportunity to rub that in my face. My testimony wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things—the prosecutors had found enough proof—but Mom had never forgiven me. I used to feel guilty about it, but not anymore.

“Would you have preferred it if I’d been locked up like you?”

Her eyes flashed. “Benedict! That was uncalled for. I’m still your mother.”

“And I’m your son. You asked me to lie in court.”

She rolled her eyes. “You really want to rehash this now?”

“Maybe we should. We’ve been avoiding it long enough.”

“I did it for you. All of it. I wanted you to have a safe future.” She said it with such conviction that I could almost believe it. Almost.

“Yes, you keep saying that, but I don’t buy it anymore. You did it because you could. It thrilled you and made you feel powerful. Above the law, huh?” The anger rose in me. I leaned forward, hissing the next sentence. “You defrauded children’s charities, Mom. You took money from little kids with cancer, and you have the gall to tell me you did it for me.”

“You’re just as sentimental as your father.” Her face was stony, but her voice sounded strained. It used to be her go-to tactic. She played the dad card whenever I pushed her into a corner. I was over that, too.

“I’m glad he didn’t live long enough to see me sleeping on people’s couches.”

“Jesus! What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I’m just done with your bullshit. We have a few more years to work on our relationship, and I think honesty is a good basis.”

The wrinkles around her mouth deepened. “Do you have any idea what it is like in here?”

“You can’t demand compassion and empathy when you’ve never shown any, Mom.”

“I think I’ve had enough for today. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“Good. I hate to keep Sheri waiting in the parking lot.” I nodded at the warden closest to us and stood.

“What do you have a driver’s license for?”

“I can’t afford to keep a car in the city. I have loans and rent to pay.”

The reminder only made her sneer. No doubt, she was disappointed in me. She probably thought I should have sucked up to some sugar Daddy a long time ago and my financial troubles would have been solved.

“Bye, Mom. See you in two weeks.”

She didn’t reply.

Why did I ever contradict her? Hadn’t I learned anything over the years? She wouldn’t change, not even in the slightest, no matter what I said or did.

As usual, Sheri got out of the car and hugged me before we got in.

“It was rough, huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why I do this to myself.”

“What did she say this time?”

“The usual. Except silly me, I didn’t let it pass. I told her she took money from kids with cancer and has no empathy. Then I reminded her she ruined my life.”

Sheri whooped as she started the car. “Go, Eddie! I’m proud of you. I know it feels like shit right now, but you did the right thing.”

I really did feel like shit. “It makes no difference.”

“It does for you. What she says or does is irrelevant, but you treated yourself with respect. And that matters.”

Unconvinced, I blew out a breath, watching the green fields behind the window.

“Where’s this ruthlessness coming from?” Sheri asked. “Don’t misunderstand me—she deserves it and worse. But why now?”

I shrugged. I had an inkling, but it was too raw to talk about.

My mind kept going back to Russel. I’d been playing everything by the rules, to the ridicule of my own mother. I’d never found it difficult to resist temptation when a higher principle was at stake.

But this time, the temptation was bigger than ever before, and the moral principle… I wanted something special for myself, just for me, and for the first time ever, I felt like I deserved a fucking break from all those rules I imposed on myself.

Nobody would get hurt, right?