Page 81 of My Road Trip with a Vampire: Season One
“If you say ‘Bob’ or ‘moist’ at any time, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing immediately.” His nostrils flare. “That’s our ride.”
There’s a slim, middle-aged man in a navy blue suit standing near the doors. There are two small puncture wounds on his neck that I try not to stare at. His bony fingers clutch a sign that reads:Mr.& Mrs. Robinson.I go to roll my eyes at Dennis, but his gaze is set in front of him as he opens the door to the black Jaguar for me.
“Sir, you know the rules,” the driver says, buckling up. Dennis unties a silky black ribbon from the back of the seat, and wraps it over my eyes, blotting out the light.
“What the fu—” I cut myself off when Dennis runs his fingers down my cheek to my throat. I shiver, thrown off by the blindfold, but I work to calm myself. This is vampire territory. I can’t understand all of their rules, but it won't help matters if I announce my confusion to the world.
We ride in silence with Dennis’ hand resting on my thigh. Maybe it’s better that I can’t see where we’re going; the car is swerving like we’re twisting through mountainous terrain. I can hang out with ghosts all day, but I can’t do heights and narrow roads.
My muscles don’t unclench until we stop.
“We’re here,” Dennis says, and I have to let him lead me. It smells damp in this place, like the steam on a hot street after a summer rain. We wind through for a bit before he holds me in place.
“We can take this off now, Beatrice,” he says and slips the ribbon from my eyes. I blink them open to find we’re in a foyer lit with antique torches. There are four doors; one on each wall. Red, black, brown, and amethyst.
The red one swings open, and a pale woman in a tailored suit appears. Her bobbed hair sways when she smiles.
“Marzanna will see you now, Dennis.”
“Wait here for me," Dennis says.
“Actually, Marzanna was very clear that your partner is welcome to enjoy the club.” It sounds more like an order than an invitation. The woman’s red-painted smile grows wider. “She’s free to do as she pleases.”
Dennis clenches his fist at his side and rolls his neck before turning back to me.
“Enjoy the club, Beatrice,” he says, unzipping my jacket and easing it off. He runs his hands down my waist, steel in his dark eyes. I have to remind myself that this is an act. His fingertips hit the edge of my skirt, and his jaw tenses. “But first, take your panties off.”
I tilt my head. My instinct is to tell him my panties are toomoistto take off, but the first strong emotion I’ve felt from him tonight washes over me. He’s turned on, and so am I.
My clit pulses when I grab the lacy thong and work it down, obeying the order even though part of me wants to defy him. I’m already wet, so the fabric feels damp against my inner thighs. I kick them away and shrug.
“Can I go now?” I ask, injecting my voice with more confidence than I’m feeling.
“Not yet.” Dennis drags his fingers along my thighs and works two into my folds. “I want everyone to know you came here with me. I want them to scent me on you,” he growls.
It’s just an act. It’s just an act.
But damn, I can’t deny that I’m into it. I don’t even care that the vampire woman and the human driver are watching us.
Dennis pulls his fingers out and rubs a few brisk circles around my clit. Just enough to get my head buzzing and wanting more before he draws away completely.
I let out a squeak of protest, but heshakes his head.
“Go have fun, but save that for me,” he says, licking his fingers. “If anyone takes it, they’ll have to deal with me.”
The driver swallows, his eyes still on Dennis.
“Right this way,” he says, opening the amethyst door. It leads to a hall lit dimly by glowing purple lights. Trance music is piped in through speakers, but a heavy bass beat thrums louder the further we walk.
The hall opens up to a club that looks completely out of this world.
“I’ll leave you to it,” the driver says, and I’m too stunned to say anything.
A large silver podium showcases gorgeous dancers who move with supernatural strength and grace, flipping and twisting into shapes that shouldn’t be humanly possible. At the bar, a beautiful vampire with deep brown skin is running her fangs down a blonde woman’s pale neck. There are several humans lined up behind her. They all look like bees waiting for a sip of nectar.
“Do you need something?” the bartender asks, drying a glass with a smirk. I force my shoulders back. I know I have a lost look on my face and about ten seconds to fix that before everyone notices.
“No, I’m good.”
