Page 44 of Thicker than Water
The walls and carpet are in dark, gothic hues. I'm still dead, after all.
Amara wiggles out of my arms and over to the record player. For a moment, I'm almost offended. I'm eager to continue what we started upstairs. But then I see the expression of pure joy on her face as her fingers move swiftly over the records, her eyes scanning them with such speed, you could mistake her for a vampire.
“You've got so much Billie Holiday!” she says approvingly. “I don't even recognize some of these recordings.”
“You won't find them anywhere else. Can I get you a drink?”
I move toward the bar. This is a familiar routine, although usuallymy guests aren't so comfortable so quickly. Am I losing my touch?
“Wine, please,” she says absentmindedly, pulling a record from out of the rack. She puts it on the record player gingerly, careful not to scratch the delicate surface. The first few notes fill the space with timeless resonance, a crooning voice reaching out through the decades.
Amara closes her eyes as I pour her drink, a wide smile over her face.
“This is the only way to listen to recorded music,” she sighs. “No offense to the Succumb DJ.”
“None taken. In fact, I quite agree with you.”
She inhales deeply, her eyes still closed. She exudes a calm peacefulness that I envy. And one that I rarely witness.
What is it about her? It’s so strange. It’s nothing to do with the waysheis, but because of the way she is around me. She's clearly wary of me, as she should be, and as I'm used to, but…she has an odd familiarity that I can't place.
Her eyes flutter open as I approach her, and she takes the wine with a nod of thanks. She sips it, her eyes coming back to me.
She’s swaying a little to the music, and I take the hand that’s not holding her glass, placing my other hand on her hip. Our bodies merge in the dance immediately, our cheeks touching.
She exhales, her soft breath caressing my skin. But rather than alighting a fierce spark within me, it heats coals that had gone cold long ago. A slower, more agonizing burn.
“I imagine,” she whispers, reaching over to place the wine glass on a nearby table. “That it must be strange to watch the world change and go by. I can understand why you appreciate a record player.”
Her words strike an uncomfortable chord. She inserts herself back into my arms, although there’s a stiffness to my embrace that wasn’t there before.
“Can I ask you a question?” she says.
I don’t respond. A subtle disquiet. She doesn’t notice.
“What colour did your eyes used to be?” she asks. “Before they turned purple for good? I haven’t seen many vampires with permanently purple eyes.”
A sting of anger rises in my chest. Correspondingly, my fangs elongate, pushing themselves out over my lips. It’s an instinct thatvampires rarely master, even old ones like me.
She catches the shift and her body tenses immediately, a flush across her chest.
In response, I pull her closer, finding my mouth again with her’s. If we’re kissing, we can’t be talking. It’s been a long night already, and the sun will soon be up.
She doesn’t question it further, leaning into my kiss, her tongue nervously avoiding my fangs. She presses her body closer to mine, weaving our thighs together.
I pick her up again, and carry her into the bedroom without a word. The ceilings are lower here, the walls draped with thick velvet. A large four-poster bed dominates the room, imposingly elegant, with curtains of dark crimson. I put her carefully on the bed and quickly undo her jeans, pulling them off along with her panties. I’m a little disappointed to see she’s not wearing the ones I gave her, but I suppose this night was a surprise to both of us.
And I can’t start getting possessive about this breather. Especially since she works in the club. It’s not smart for me to get so attached to a bartender.
No. I’m not getting attached. I don’t get attached. This will be the last time. Learning her name was far enough.
I start to kiss her, beginning at her ankle and trailing up her leg, licking and kissing her smooth calves and thighs. She lies back against the plush bed covers with a happy sigh. She pulls the scarf from her hair and her tank top over her head and throws them to the ground unceremoniously. I feel a shiver of anticipation pass through her body. It makes me want her so much more. Her desire spurs me on.
I kiss the supple skin of her inner thigh, so close now. I wish I could pierce it with my fangs, drink from it to satisfy my urgent thirst, but I respect her wishes. It’s enough to fulfill my other desires. My mouth finds her wetness, lapping her up hungrily. She moans and wriggles tantalizingly on the bed, her legs wrapping around my shoulders. I lift her up slightly, so that my tongue can tease her opening.
I want to spend hours here, even days. But the nagging sunrise is approaching and our time together is limited. So I bring my hand up to her, inserting two fingers inside. My lustful urgency is satisfied as I enter her, as we’re bound closer together. She moves in tandem with me. We’re like one creature, with one sole drive, one sole desire. She isslick and ready, and I add another finger. Her tightness is wonderful.
She comes quickly, in several, steady waves, over my hand. Then she falls back again, her sweet sighs pleasing to my ears.
