Big City: Box Set Part 12

He didn't give a s.h.i.+t about the council. Russ grunted his reply, forcing a carefree smile to his lips as he approached his beloved.

Her gaze met his, her relief easing some of his anger. She wished to see him. She trusted him -- someone she thought a mere human -- to protect her from vampires.

That was a start.

"Will you be much longer, love?" Russ slid between Dekel and Vanna, putting his arm around his woman, standing with his back to the bald vampire. Dekel hissed softly at the insult and repositioned himself on the other side of Croix.

"Love?" Croix, the arrogant a.s.s, cackled. "Vanna, my naughty pet, you never mentioned you had a human boyfriend."

"I... He isn't." Vanna's pale cheeks flushed, and Russ tightened his grip on her waist, disgruntled with her denial. "I mean not really. We aren't serious."

Like h.e.l.l they weren't serious. Russ pressed his body against hers.

"I am teasing you, pet." The rocker flipped the greasy ends of his long, dyed hair over his shoulder. "Human relations.h.i.+ps are so very fleeting."

Croix gazed darkly across the room, his angular face in profile, his brooding, angst-filled expression as fake as his hair color. Russ stared at the posing rocker with disgust. s.h.i.+t. Was that the look Vanna wanted him to replicate?

"And they don't compare to the eternal bond between a vampire and his beloved." Croix sighed dramatically, resuming his stream of emo drivel. "How can anyone take them seriously?"

Russ itched to put his fist through the rock star's pierced face. "Vanna tells me I don't take anything seriously." He kept his tone light. "I disagree. When it comes to certain things, certain people, I'm very serious." He caught Dekel's gaze, allowing his eyes to blaze red.

The bald vampire gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing wildly in his tattooed neck. He put his hand on Croix's shoulder and whispered into his ear.

"You're a fool, Dek." Croix brushed the vampire's hand away. "He isn't one of us. Look at him." The rocker's top lip curled. "He's no vampire. Vanna, here, she could be a vampire, couldn't you, pet?"

"I could be." Her voice was steady, but her shoulders trembled against Russ's chest. He slid his hand under her blazer, across her bare stomach, feeling it flutter under his fingertips. She shook with excitement, the little s.h.i.+t raising her hopes. "I've spent my life doing research about your kind, Mr. Croix," she told him, sweetly eager to impress. "I've had these dreams --"

"Yes. Yes." Croix rolled his eyes, his bored tone irking Russ. "We all have dreams. Some dreams are more important than others." He glanced down at the display case. "I'll take three of the chains and two of those dragon pendants. Deliver them to the hotel. My manager will take care of the rest."

Vanna straightened, her pert a.s.s rubbing against Russ's groin, sending tremors of arousal through his body. "I'll deliver them tonight personally."

"Not tonight, pet. Tonight is about rock and roll. Tonight we party!" Croix declared and his henchman cheered, high-fiving each other. "Maybe you..." The rocker dared to blatantly peruse Vanna's body, his gaze pausing over her small, pert b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Russ rumbled a quiet warning, tightening his hold on Vanna. He was the only male who would see her perfect curves.

"No." Croix shook his head. "You won't fit in."

Vanna deflated, slumping into Russ's hand, as Croix walked away, heedless of the hurt his rejection had caused.

"Did you hear him?" Vanna turned to Russ, burying her face in his chest. "I don't fit in. I wasn't vampire enough."

Russ twisted his lips. It was more likely she wasn't chesty enough. "You are perfect, Vanna." He wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. "The man is a fool."

"He's not a fool. He's a vampire." She said it like the two were mutually exclusive. They weren't, Russ having met plenty of stupid vampires. "I shouldn't have mentioned my dreams. I knew as soon as the words left my mouth I had made a mistake. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb." She thumped her forehead against him.

"You're not dumb, love." Russ stroked her back. She'd turned to him after Croix's dismissal, and he should be elated. But Russ didn't want to be second best, and he certainly didn't want her to love him simply because he was a vampire. He wanted her to care for him, and care more for him than anything, including eternal life.

"I believe in you, Vanna." He cradled the back of her head, threaded his fingers in her silky soft, naturally black tresses. "I believe in your dreams."

"You don't. You laugh at them." Her voice was m.u.f.fled by his s.h.i.+rt.

"Never." Russ stepped back from her and cupped her chin, raising her gaze to his. "I laugh at everything else, but I've never laughed at your dreams. You will be a vampire someday. I believe that." He'd turn her himself, binding their souls together forever.

"Do you truly believe I'll be a vampire?" She sniffed, her gaze on his chest, her hurt pulling at him.

"Yes." He'd believe the sky was green if it eased her torment.

"You believe in me," she murmured as though that meant something, and the tension in Russ's stomach eased. Soon, she'd choose him. "My dreams have to be real. They have to be." She burrowed into him, her curves rubbing against his muscles. "If only he'd invited me to the party, I could have shown him how I fit in, how I was destined to be a vampire, and he'd --"

"He'd turn you." A pain pierced Russ's nonbeating heart. She didn't love him enough, not yet. "Then we go to the party." He kissed her forehead. He'd prove he believed in her dreams. "We'll crash his little s.h.i.+ndig and show him how vamp you can be."

"Really?" Vanna looked at him as though he'd hung the moon, her brown eyes wide with wonder. "You'd do that for me?"

"Vanna, love, I'd do anything for you." Russ tweaked her cute little aristocratic nose and grinned. "Now, let's lock up so your dragon of a boss doesn't have a hissy fit." He took her hand, linked their fingers together. "And then we'll go get our serious party on."

He laughed, his soul light once more. Vanna would choose him. He knew it.

Tonight, if all went according to plan, she'd become a vampire. Vanna's stomach flip-flopped as Russ rolled his cherry red Mustang convertible to a stop. He parked in the darkest spot in the hotel's underground parking garage. When she became a vampire, her entire world would change. Her relations.h.i.+p with Russ would end.

She didn't want it to end.

She stared at the winds.h.i.+eld, feeling his gaze upon her, his mood uncharacteristically quiet. She'd never cared so much about a man. With one heated look, he turned her brain to mush, scattering her plans, and her dreams.

She needed him one more time. "Russ." As she reached for him, he met her embrace halfway, dragging her over the console on top of him, their lips joining in a ravaging kiss. She straddled his lap, her short leather skirt hiking up to her waist, and she pressed her panty-covered p.u.s.s.y against the bulge in his dress pants.

Russ groaned into her mouth and reached down, pus.h.i.+ng the seat back. He s.h.i.+fted, his movements severely restricted, and she smiled.

"You're my prisoner," she whispered, rubbing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his blue s.h.i.+rt. He hadn't changed, giving her all of the preparation minutes. That was Russ, generous and giving. "And I'm going to torture you until you roar."

Russ grinned his alluring grin, the freckles on his cheeks dancing. "Do your worst, love." He rested his hands on the tops of her thigh-high leather boots.

"Oh, I will." Vanna smiled back, her worries disappearing as they always did around him. With Russ, she felt sure, secure, loved. Oh, G.o.d. She ducked her head, avoiding his gaze. I love him.

Vanna nuzzled his neck and a rumble rolled up his big chest. No. I can't love him. He isn't my destiny, my future. She nibbled to the V of skin exposed by his s.h.i.+rt, his top b.u.t.ton undone.

"Vanna, my love, my life." He ran his hand over the curve of her a.s.s, plucking the skimpy band of her black G-string with his fingers. "Trust yourself. Trust me."

"I trust you, Russ." She undulated over him, riding the long, hard ridge in his dress pants. Tonight wasn't a question of trust. It was a matter of embracing the path her dreams had laid out for her. "You'd never hurt me."

"Never," he agreed, drawing her up to kiss him, their mouths meeting, their tongues tumbling, tangling. He tasted so fresh, so human. Would she ever experience this again?

Vanna moved more urgently over him, desperate to savor this last moment with Russ, to touch all of his big body, to burn his taste and shape and feel into her mind forever.

She unzipped his pants and pushed the flap of his underwear open, freeing his large c.o.c.k. No c.o.c.k had ever felt so right, his width filling her hand, and he groaned her name as she stroked him slowly, lovingly, rubbing her thumb over his tip and smearing his prec.u.m over his skin.

"This has to go." Russ snapped the G-string with a twist of his fingers, the silk biting into her flesh. "Ahhh... much better." He pushed her p.u.s.s.y snug against his base and lifted her, dragging her juices along his shaft.

G.o.d. He's strong. He raised and lowered her again and again, rubbing her p.u.s.s.y lips on him, every stroke stimulating her c.l.i.t. Vanna moaned, her body humming, and she sucked on his square chin, tasting the salt of his skin.

"You feel like heaven, Vanna." His breath was warm on her face. "You're so wet for me." He rubbed his rim over her c.l.i.t, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from coming. "Yes. Save it for me, love. I want to be inside you when you come. I love it when you clench down on me, holding me with your tight little p.u.s.s.y."

"Close." She panted, her lungs aching. She couldn't get enough air. Vanna yanked down her corset, freeing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but the tightness didn't go away. It intensified as her nipples rubbed against his s.h.i.+rt.

"You can do it, love. You can wait for me, for this." He lifted her higher, prodding her entrance with his tip, and he drove her down on him. She screamed as his c.o.c.k slid up inside her, and she pushed away from his chest, arching over the steering wheel, the metal cool against her back.

"That's it, sweetheart." He mouthed between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, licking circles into her skin as she shook, trembling with release. "You're so beautiful, so very beautiful, made for me, made for this."

He swirled his tongue around her right nipple, the sensation too raw and too real. She shoved at his shoulders. She couldn't displace him, and he chuckled, his lips vibrating against her flesh, causing more unbearable pleasure.

"You'll come for me again." It was an order.

"No. No. No." But as she protested, she swiveled her hips, grinding her p.u.s.s.y against him, and Russ's chuckle rolled over her once more, the sound low and deep. She pulled on his neck, drawing him down on her, and he complied with her unspoken command, inhaling her nipple and suckling on her breast, his mouth hot and insistent.

Vanna rode him to the rhythm of his pulls and releases, his l.u.s.ty tugs on her breast felt down to her p.u.s.s.y. All of her was connected to him, her breast, her p.u.s.s.y, and her thoughts, room in her mind for only him, Russ, her human lover.

His body hardened even more under her, his flesh heating to a blazing fire, and he grunted against her skin, thrusting shallowly upward, his movements constrained by the driver's seat. She slid her hand between their bodies, pressing down on her c.l.i.t, escalating her reviving pa.s.sions faster, rus.h.i.+ng to meet him.

Russ dragged his surprisingly sharp teeth over her throbbing nipple, and she cried out, writhing against his palms. "Easy, love." He drove her down onto him over and over, impaling her on his long, thick c.o.c.k.

"Russ." She dug her fingernails into the sleeves of his cotton s.h.i.+rt, his muscles stretched tight underneath the fabric.

"I know what you need, love, what I need." He swiped his tongue over her skin, covered her nipple, and bit, the pain snapping her control.

"Russ!" she screamed, her mind fragmenting into a thousand pieces, her world flas.h.i.+ng light and dark, dark and light. He dug his fingernails into her hips and thrust upward, his heat rus.h.i.+ng into her.

Vanna raked her fingers over his shoulders, holding him to her, her body throbbing as he sucked on her breast, his teeth deep inside her flesh. This was right. She closed her eyes. This was how it was in her dreams, her vampire feeding on her, their bodies as one.

Vanna blinked, rational thought returning. Except Russ wasn't a vampire. He wasn't really feeding on her. His sucking had stopped... if it had ever begun. He licked her skin and pressed a very non-vampire-like kiss on the pinkness.

Was he a vampire? "Russ?"

"Yes, love?" He looked up and their gazes met. There was no blood on his broad, freckled face.

Vanna felt foolish. He wasn't a vampire. She'd imagined the biting because she wanted him to be something he wasn't. He wasn't her destiny, no matter how right this felt.

She glanced away from the hope in his hazel eyes. "We should go to this party."

Chapter Three.

She'd pick him. Russ held Vanna's cold hand as they waited at the door of Croix's hotel room. That hot f.u.c.k in the parking lot wasn't good-bye.

"No one's answering." Vanna s.h.i.+fted her weight from her left foot to her right. "We should go."

"No." Russ's pride wouldn't allow him to win by default. "We should go in." He grinned at her and swung the door open.

The scene was pure erotic chaos. Very bad death metal music blasted, the screech of poorly played electric guitars making Russ wince. The scent of c.u.m, alcohol, and vomit a.s.saulted his nostrils.

A l.u.s.t demon in human form chased a busty blonde across the room. A vampire fed upon one naked woman while another sat beside him in a daze, sloppily inflicted bite marks on her neck, a line of half-snorted cocaine on the gla.s.s table in front of them. Three women in white bras and panties bounced on the couch, bottles of whiskey in their hands. A vampire f.u.c.ked a woman on the carpet, his pale a.s.s bobbing between her spread legs. Three of his buddies were gathered around, c.o.c.ks out, waiting for their turn.

Vanna's grip on his hand tightened. "I knew it would be like this," she said softly as though trying to convince herself. "Vampires are very s.e.xual and not at all monogamous. Living for so many years, it doesn't make sense for them to be faithful."

"I need a p.u.s.s.y!" a vampire yelled, grabbing his hard c.o.c.k with both hands. The others cheered.

"Or discreet." Vanna shuddered, and Russ put his arm protectively around her.

"Until they find their beloveds," he murmured for her ears only. "Then they're faithful and possessive. They'll want to kill other males simply for looking at her." He rubbed soothing circles on her hip.

Vanna leaned into his body, her slight curves pressed against his muscles. She was made for him, his beloved, tall and willowy and soft. "Beloveds are rare."

"Very," he agreed, his lips on her black hair. "Vampires wait for centuries for their eternal loves, long, lonely centuries." Russ remembered the bleakness of the past and how he'd tried to fill the emptiness with meaningless s.e.x and gory battles.

"But that love is their destiny." She looked up at him, her brown eyes haunted. "The two are entwined. They don't have to choose."

Choose me, Vanna. He squeezed her hip.

"You can't escape destiny." She stepped away from him, the cold air chilling his nonbeating heart. "I know I can't. I've been here before." She stared at a lava lamp. "In my dreams. I'm meant to be here, Russ. I must find Croix."

"Vanna..." He trailed behind her. "You're meant to be here with me, love. I'm your destiny."

She turned to him, a stricken expression on her face. "I wish you were, Russ. G.o.d, how I wish you were." Vanna slid her hands down his chest, sending waves of pleasure over his body. "But every night, I dream of blood and fangs and a vampire whose face I never see. If that isn't my destiny, then..."

Her memories flashed before him. A little, dark-haired girl sat at a desk, diligently coloring. A woman paused at her side. The girl smiled up at her and proudly showed her the picture.

It was of a naked man with his face in shadows. Blood spurted out of two puncture wounds on his neck. There was so much blood in the picture, so much red.

The woman's kind smile froze. Her hand shook as she took the picture from the little girl. She hurried to the front of the cla.s.s.

The images s.h.i.+fted. A dark-haired woman hunched over a wooden table covered with pictures. She cried, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. A man paced before her. He waved his hands and yelled, his face twisted with fury. The little dark-haired girl hugged her teddy bear.

The walls disappeared, revealing blue skies and green gra.s.s. The girl stood on the edge of a playground, the toes of her white running shoes on the pavement. Girls her age skipped rope. "Crazy Vanna. Crazy Vanna," they repeated in singsong voices.

Vanna's pain and grief and confusion ravaged Russ, and then the memories and emotions were gone, locked deep within her mind.

"No. It is my destiny." Vanna laughed, the sound choked. "It has to be my future. Don't you see?"

s.h.i.+t. Russ stared at her. He hadn't seen before. He did now. She wasn't choosing between him and eternal life. She was choosing between him and sanity.

And he was forcing her to make that choice. Instead of easing her fears, comforting her, he'd given her more pain. "Vanna, I wasn't joking when I said I was able --"