I was expecting him to live in one of the renovated warehouse condos or a trendy loft, but we drove past all of those, and he pulled us up to the garage of a modern dream house. If he was an attorney, he was an attorney who was doing well. This was going to be fun.
He led me upstairs through an expensively, if sparsely, furnished living room and past a gleaming stainless steel kitchen to the patio that had the view, just as promised. He left me there and went back inside, returning barefoot with wine glasses and a bottle of deep, dark red. Music was playing softly in the background. He’d done this before; he was smooth. Now he took my hand. His was colder than mine.
“You’re so beautiful.”
And here we go.
“You’re so full of shit.”
“You bring me back to your place because you want to get laid, so now you’ve got the wine and the music, and you’re going to try to flatter me into thinking it was my idea to get in bed with you by feeding me lines like I’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and how you’ve never met anyone like me and you just feel this connection to me. You’re full of shit.” Jane cannot believe we just said that, not that she disagreed.
He paused. This was obviously a new one for him. “Well, you are beautiful, and I have most definitely never met anyone like you,” he said, with a sardonic grin. “They aren’t just lines. But, if I was so transparent, why are you here?”
“Maybe I just want to skip all the lines and get to the good part,” I said, and pulled him into a nice long kiss. I think Jane may have fainted in shock.
I had never come so quickly. To be perfectly honest, poor Jane had never come with a man at all. Poor Jane had never even imagined that something like this could exist. I was riding a crest of passion, my body tensing, begging him to fuck me harder, faster, to take me over the edge to release, and he did, and the whole world exploded, and then I was back.
And goddamn it all to hell, he was biting my neck. Wouldn’t you know it? My dream lover was a fucking vampire!