Go Ahead, I’ll Bite by Ruby Caine – Part One

Prologue

The obsession begins

“Camille? What are you doing here?” Belle Simar was shocked to see her fiancé’s baby sister when she answered the door.

“I’ve come to break you out, honey. Grab your purse and come check out my sweet ride.” The younger girl favored her brother a lot. Both had dark hair and striking features. Their personalities were completely different, though. Camille still had a wicked, wild edge to her that Beau had long ago learned to tame in himself.

The last thing Belle wanted to do was hang out with someone who could get her into even more trouble with her lover. She had recently run away from him, to protect him, of course, but it did not go over well. “I don’t think I should wander too far from home today. Beau is still a bit put out with me disappearing on him.”

Camille had been prepared this time. Belle did not realize she was here at her brother’s own bidding. “I will pay you to watch over Belle for the next few weeks,” Beau had told his baby sister. “Keep her company, make sure she doesn’t try to take off on me again, and I’ll take care of your car note and rent for a few months. Just don’t let Belle know I hired you to watch her.”

Whipping out her phone, Camille punched in her brother’s number and started talking. “No, I am not in any trouble. Jeeze, you need to stop thinking the worst about me, big brother. I am just wondering if you would mind if Belle and I hang out today, maybe catch a movie, do lunch, visit a few shops?” Smiling with his reply, the younger St. Pierre handed over her phone to Belle.

“Go enjoy yourself, babe. I wish I could have stayed home to entertain you, but I have a lot of work to catch up on from our impromptu vacation. You have enough funds in your bank account to splurge. Not many men have to beg their fiancées to go out and spend money, but I am.”

Less than an hour later, Belle was squirming in the leather seat of her future sister-in-law’s car. Camille drove like a maniac, changing lanes and cursing out anyone in her path. “Why the hell are you driving in the passing lane, asshole?” She flipped off a truck driver after having to slow down behind him. The angry driver started mirroring her rude gesture, and Belle wondered if she would survive this day.

“I see you decided to keep the sports car. I was concerned you might not be able to maintain the insurance and monthly payments. Did you get a job?”

“Kind of,” Camille said before speeding to beat a yellow light. Oncoming traffic blared their horns at her driving etiquette. Belle closed her eyes and braced herself, sure another car would hit them. When sudden impact did not follow, she peeked around.

“Where exactly are we going, Camille?”

“While I was house sitting Beau’s place, I could not help but notice you had a lot of literature about ghosts, psychics and the paranormal. Who knew New Orleans was so steeped in hauntings and spirits? You really should get a few books on vampires, too. I noticed that topic wasn’t covered in your collection.”

“Beau asked you to house sit when we were gone?”

“Asked me to? Well, technically, no, but a girl knows when to step in to help a family member out. Besides, I had fallen a little behind in my rent, so it was nice to have a place to hang out until I could get some cash to keep my landlord from bitching at me.”

“Did Beau know you were house sitting for him?”

“Probably not and I’d like to keep it that way, too. Here we are!” Camille proved parallel parking did not require a lot of effort if the driver used gravity to propel her vehicle to slide into the curb after a drastic right turn.

“Voodoo Queen Marie?” Belle made no move to unfasten her seatbelt. This part of the city looked shady. She did not see Beau sanctioning any trips here. A drunk laid near the door of the small shop Camille was pointing at. Even through the closed windows of the car, the smell of urine and alcohol turned Belle’s stomach. “Why are we stopping here? I thought you said we were going to see a movie, get lunch, maybe visit the mall or something.”

“Before you go thinking I misled my dear, overprotective brother,” Camille said, “I mentioned going to some shops when we talked to Beau.”

“I’m pretty sure he did not think you meant Voodoo shops.” Her lover would pitch a fit if she even considered getting out of the car. Camille knew they were tempting fate, too. She just did not seem to care much.

“I hear the lady who runs this place is a blood descendant of Marie Laveau. Even if we don’t get to have her read our palms, just think of the interesting things we will find in there. I think I saw a shrunken head hanging on the doorknob.”

“This is definitely not a wise thing to do, Camille. We should just head someplace to catch a bite. Camille! Where are you going? Come back here. Don’t leave me in this car by myself.” Belle eventually followed the younger girl inside.

“I couldn’t convince the lady to give us a reading today, Belle,” Camille announced as she appeared from behind a display of books on the supernatural. “I did find this book by Ann Rice about vampires and this other non-fiction book about where to look for real life vampires in the city.”

“Vampires are not real-life, by their very nature.” Belle pointed out. “I’m not paying for those books, Camille, not from here, at least. Let’s get out of here. We can go to Barnes and Noble and I’ll get you a copy of every vampire book they stock.”

“They won’t have the same authentic feel as these,” the younger girl insisted. “And you don’t need to pay for them. I’ve got cash, see.” The usually broke young lady pulled out a wad of twenties. Belle gasped and made her put the funds away before they attracted a pick pocket or worse.

“Where did you get all that cash? What kind of job did you get, Camille?” Belle decided she needed to talk to Beau about helping his sister out so the younger girl did not try to earn money in a less than noble manner. “You should be saving that money for important things like your car payments and rent,” Belle lectured.

“Both of those are up to date, worry wart. As a matter of fact, my current job will enable me to meet my financial responsibilities and still have funds for play. Come on. I still want to visit a few more paranormal shops before we eat.”

In the days to follow, Camille St. Pierre became obsessed with the topic of vampires. She consumed everything she could find on the subject, from books, to movies, and finally on the internet. She was determined to prove the creatures existed. Living in New Orleans, Camille figured she had an advantage over others seeking the same goal. She found some kindred spirits on a website chatroom. With a checklist to guide her, she started her search. It was a stroke of luck that she noticed the moving vans across the street one evening. After a few days of observation, she figured fate had stepped in to help her reach her goal.


Chapter One

The first test

Camille St. Pierre forced herself to move. Her feet seemed glued to the ground when she tried to head out on her mission. “Don’t back down now!” she ordered herself. “Nobody will believe you until you have evidence. They will all laugh in your face. You can do this. You will do this. With the right evidence in hand, your family and friends will have to take you seriously this time.”

With a sharp nod of determination, she picked up the casserole dish and headed to her new neighbor’s house. Mid-way there, she started to turn around so she could scurry back to safety. It took another self-affirming lecture to make her see her plans through. Walking faster this time, Camille found herself at the front door of her new neighbor faster then she hoped. Her hand fought against the order to knock. Stealing her nerve, she opted to ring the doorbell and forge ahead before she could totally chicken out.

The sun was setting in the background as someone peeked through a nearby window. The house was clouded in shadows, giving it a surreal feeling and playing havoc on her nerves. The front door slowly inched open and one pale blue eye spied at her. “Is there a problem?”

So much for a warm welcome, Camille told herself. The man’s voice was gruff and unfriendly, as if he was not pleased with her intrusion. She wanted to drop the glass dish and run for her life, but she had come too far to give up now. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” She forced a smile and held out her food offering.

The eye studying her had a dark ring around the pupil. Her father had raised racing pigeons when she was a child. She remembered Daddy explaining that eye trait was an indicator of superior vision. Flying creatures needed keen vision to navigate. Camille had her suspicions about this man. If she was right, he was a creature of prey, and those eyes would help him hone in on victims. The door suddenly closed, and Camille felt her heart drop. After all that worrying about what might happen when she tested him, he would not even give her a chance? Now what was she supposed to do?

The sound of a safety chain sliding against metal told her he might not be slamming the door in her face just yet. Sure enough, the door slowly inched open to reveal a dark room. “Come inside,” the male voice coaxed. Run, her brain warned. With a deep breath of resignation, she stepped inside and heard the front door close behind her, like the seal on a crypt. A small lamp was switched on and it took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the new surroundings. The room was bare, save for one desk with a computer and chair. Nothing hung on the walls. The floor was bare, too. Not even a mirror offered relief from the stark area.

Slowly turning, she found herself looking at the most attractive man she had ever seen. He was well over six-feet tall. The paleness of his face suggested he was in some serious need of protein. Dark reddish hair hung around his shoulders and a matching beard and mustache covered much of his face. His lips were oddly red and her eyes locked on them, mesmerizing her for a moment.

When he spoke, she jumped and almost dropped her glass container. “Do I have something on my face? You are staring.”

Camille’s face reddened and she looked around for a place to put down her casserole dish. The desk seemed to be the only place available. “Sorry for staring. I’ve never gotten a good look at you before. Since you moved in last week, I have yet to have a chance to come over and introduce myself. We seem to keep different hours. My name is Camille, by the way. I’m a school teacher at one of the local elementary schools.”

“Jean,” he said, offering his hand. She reached out reluctantly to grasp it. The moment her fingers disappeared into the large palm of his, she felt trapped. This man had powerful hands and a strong grip. If she wanted to pull away, she doubted she would be able to escape if he decided not to let go.

“Hello, Jean. Welcome to Magnolia Ridge. If you were looking for a nice, quiet place to live, you picked the right area. Most of the people who live here keep to themselves, and we hardly have any crime to worry about. In fact, a lot of people don’t even bother to lock their doors.”

Hell, why did she tell him that, Camille cursed herself. If this guy was what she feared, the last thing she needed to do was tell him how easy it would be to victimize people around the neighborhood. “Cops patrol the area all the time,” she rushed to add. “And there are lots of nosy old people who keep track of who comes and goes.” Her voice sounded dry. Coming here may not have been the best plan of action on her part. There were other ways to prove if this man was the monster she feared. Putting herself at his mercy, alone in his lair, was a foolish idea which might prove fatal.

“I notice you seem to stick close to home during the day. Do you work night shift by any chance?” Did she sound as scared as she felt? Probably, because the sexy man was studying her as if unsure of what to make of her.

“I only go out at night,” he told her, letting go of her hand to lift up the lid of the dish she had set onto his table. “Steak? Medium rare, if I am not mistaken. My favorite,” he offered. “What a unique dish to bring someone new to the neighborhood.”

“They had a special on T-bones at the grocery store. There are some roasted potatoes in there, too. I hope you enjoy the meal.”

“Why don’t you join me? The portion is quite large.” Jean’s large hands gathered the dish and lid. He started for a room deeper inside.

Camille’s eyes darted to the exit and back toward where her host was disappearing. “Oh, I’m not that hungry at the moment. I really should be going back to my place. Er, I have lots of papers to grade and lesson plans to finish up.” She stopped jabbering when he turned to study her. Then she rushed on with her words, hoping to appear more normal. “I fixed the steak especially for you. I know you are probably heading out soon. Don’t you usually leave home around this time every night?”

“So, it’s not just old people who keep track of who comes and goes around the neighborhood.” His blue eyes seemed to be peering into her soul now, seeing her hidden agenda, trying to get her to show her hand. “There is nothing in this wonderful meal which might harm someone, is there, Camille?” His tone was mocking now.

How did he know? Could she run for the door and escape before he caught her? Definitely not, she realized. It was too late to back down now. “Are you afraid I put some kind of poison in the food?” She gave a dry chuckle. “There is nothing in there which would cause a human injury.” Extra emphasis was put on the word human. There it was, out in the open. Let the stalemate begin, Camille crossed her arms in front of her and headed to where he stood. “I’d love a bite before I head back to handle the tons of homework facing me tonight. Is your kitchen this way?”

“To your left,” Jean directed. He turned on the light over the table. Two of the four bulbs where out. Creatures of the night preferred the darkness, Camille reminded herself. “Have a seat, Camille. I’ll get us some utensils.”

When his back was turned, she studied the exits carefully. There was a back door near the far wall. She took the wooden chair closest to it just in case she needed to make a quick escape. Jean joined her, sitting right beside her. Their legs touched and she felt his heat warm her. Don’t look in his eyes, she ordered herself. Those eyes were hypnotic. She needed to be on full alert when things went south. “Shall I’ll take the first bite?” she offered. “Just so I can prove there isn’t anything a human can’t ingest in here.”

Jean cut a piece of the meat and forked it up to feed her. There was something incredibly sexy about the arrogant way he moved. “You keep saying the word human as if it’s some secret qualifier, Camille.” There was a slight mocking in his tone.

He was trying to appear innocent, but Camille was not falling for it. Her teeth scraped across the metal of the fork when she accepted the offer of meat. “Delicious. Have a bite, Jean.” His eyes watched her mouth with fascination, and she fought the urge to run.

She watched him cut into the meat again, exposing the red center, liquid seeping out, promising a juicy treat. Camille’s eyes locked on his lips as he started chewing. They were almost ruby in color, and his square jaw barely moved as he consumed the rare meat. A bit of juice slipped between his lips and disappeared into his beard. Would he have a reaction? How soon would it occur if he did?

While her studies had taught her vampires and garlic did not mix, there was no explanation on what would happen if one ate some. There was no doubt Jean’s piece of meat contained garlic. She had saturated the entire T-bone in it. Nothing seemed to be happening. He murmured something about the interesting seasoning before offering her another bite. What if she had been totally wrong about her new neighbor? All this time she had been so sure he was a member of the undead.

Not to brag, but Camille considered herself quite the expert on the subject. She had read every vampire novel on the market, gone on lots of vampire tours in New Orleans and seen the Twilight movies two times each. Jean had all the markings of a real vampire. Damn it, he only came out at night. He had a seductive allure which made it impossible to ignore his presence. His house was dark and shadowy. How could he not be a vampire?

He took another large bite and gave her a sexy smile. Camille’s pulse started racing. If Jean was no blood sucking fiend, she might just consider starting a relationship with him. She almost started to ask what his plans were for the weekend when it happened. Jean stopped chewing and started reaching for his throat. Suddenly, he seemed to be choking or having some type of trouble breathing.

“What did you use to season this meat?” He gasped, getting up and heading to the refrigerator to rummage inside.

“The usual,” she said, inching toward the door, “salt, pepper, chili powder and garlic. I really need to go now. Like I said before, I have tons of homework to take care of…” She managed to unlock the back door and was heading out when she saw him take a syringe out and jam it into his thigh.

The deadly look on his face stopped her from hesitating with her escape. He gave her a look which suggested he knew she had tried to get him to have an allergic reaction tonight. No doubt about it, the very notion had pissed him off a lot. Making out his words was difficult because his tongue seemed to be swollen, but she thought he might have called her a psycho brat who needed to be beaten.

Back at her house, she grabbed her bottle of holy water and started sprinkling it around every doorway and window of her apartment. She dared not spy out of the window to see if her vampire was trying to locate her. Grabbing her laptop and bag of test papers to grade, she rushed into her bedroom and locked the door for added safety.


Chapter Two

The reckoning

She was following him again; Jean Deaux groaned. He did not know what was up with the petite beauty. Studying her, he shook his head at her attire. She sported a turtle neck shirt again. It was close to ninety tonight in New Orleans, but her attire suggested otherwise. What was her name again? Cammy? No, Camille. There had been a whirlwind hurricane by that name almost sixty years before, causing lots of trouble for those in its path. It was definitely a perfect name for this little brunette spitfire. She was a beauty. No doubt men flocked to her side, yet she seemed fixated on him. Why, Jean could not begin to understand.

He still could not believe she tried to poison him. At first, he wondered if someone had tipped off the wrong people about his presence in the city. People got uptight and defensive when he showed up, as well they should, Jean acknowledged to himself. He did, after-all, have certain people’s futures in his hands.

Camille did not work at any of the targets he planned to stake out in the coming weeks. A few phone calls to people in the know nixed that fear. Could she be dating one of the workers of the places he would frequent? If so, her lover was nuts to try using her to take on Jean. First of all, he prided himself on being stone cold where business was concerned. When on a job, he trusted no one but himself. It was the best way to stay safe and objective. Anyone who got in his way was dealt with swiftly, often painfully. Second of all, she was so obvious in her attempts to follow him; it would be ridiculous to assume she would catch him unaware. Camille was not even stealth enough to be labeled an amateur.

Maybe this woman was sent to seduce him out of doing what he came here for? Licking his lips, he toyed with the fun of that idea. She was breath-taking, young and a touch bratty. He liked those traits in a woman. If she wanted to seduce him in an effort to control him, Jean might just let her give it her best shot. She would likely be devastated when she failed to control him, but she would leave his bed utterly sated, he promised himself.

Jean was a demanding lover, but skillful enough to make sure his partners always found their own pleasure. This young lady looked passionate. He bet he’d be able to get her out of that stupid turtle neck shirt in no time. Damn, generally he wondered what a lady’s breasts might look like, but he longed to expose her slender neck so he could nibble a path downward. Did she know he liked to bite?

She was so irresistible, crouching down in the driver’s seat of her little red sport’s car, trying to hide just out of sight. It was likely no one else saw her, but he did. His night vision was exceptional and all his senses were on alert on nights like this, when he had a job to carry out. Jean needed her gone before he got down to business. The last thing he needed was her witnessing his skill in action. If she was a spy, Camille would likely share his techniques with others, giving them a chance to prepare for him. He enjoyed the element of surprise when he was hunting. It made resistance less likely and helped insure his own safety. If she were an innocent, he wanted to spare her from the violence which often accompanied his work.

Stepping out of the shadows of the parking lot of Katrina’s Aftermath, a successful restaurant on the outskirts of the Big Easy, he strode swiftly to her sports car. His pale knuckles were tapping on her driver’s side window before she even saw him coming. He watched her brown eyes go wide with alarm. Her hand reached for the key to start her vehicle, but she seemed to think better of the action. Jean saw her take a few calming breaths. Her chest was full and inviting. What color were her nipples, he wondered, innocent pink or seductive red? His pants tightened a bit before he gained control of his thoughts. Work now. Play later.

“Jean, what a surprise seeing you here,” Camille said with a slight stutter after opening the window.

Leaning down eye level with her, he rested his strong arms on the window frame. “You seem to be following me a lot lately, beautiful. While it does a lot for my ego, I cannot help but remember you tried to kill me the last time I let you get too close to me.”

“Kill?” Camille gasped at his suggestion. She had not meant to kill him with the steak. Well, she had not really given much thought to what would befall him if he were a vampire, and she fed him garlic. If things had gone differently, could she be a murderer now. Surely not. “How was I supposed to know… It was a steak dinner. I ate a piece and nothing happened to me.”

Thank goodness, he had shamed her into tasting some of the meat. Now, she could plead innocence with a straight face. His blue eyes locked with hers and she could not break the stare. Those dark rings almost seemed to glow, putting her in a hypnotic state. Grabbing the collar of her shirt, she tried to stretch it out around the neck to help fight the breathless state he put her in. Then she recalled Jean was probably a blood sucking fiend. If he got a glance of her neck, her pulse obviously racing, would it drive him over the edge? Both her hands reached up to block her neck from his view.

“So, you weren’t trying to poison me, little Camille? Can you look me straight in the eye and swear you did not know I could be harmed by something you used to cook the steak?” Jean asked skeptically. He was not sure how she found out about his weak spot. Had he not been prepared, she well could have taken him down. Not even the more harden souls he had faced in the past had come that close to sidetracking his efforts. This little brat was deadly or lucky.

“So, you admit you had a violent reaction to the garlic I used?” Camille felt a momentary sense of victory at his reaction. Had she managed to confirm her suspicions about this vampire with only one test off the checklist. The website she frequented promised readers they would indeed be able to find and label a vampire merely by checking off a few of the warning signs. A chat room connected with the site was filled with others vying to be the first to prove they found a real, non-living, modern day vampire. Others were still in the early stages of the pursuit, observing those around them, hoping to find a likely candidate. She had already made contact with her target and given him the first of many recommended tests. She could not wait to share her findings with the people in her chat group.

“Your smile is disheartening, beautiful. I would never have pegged you as a cold-hearted killer.” Jean was stunned to see the gloating on her gorgeous face. One minute she looked like an innocent bystander caught up in something she had no way of knowing was deadly. The next, she looked quite pleased with herself for almost eliminating an opponent in some crazy game she was playing. “As it happens, I enjoy garlic on my steak and most other meats, too. Chili pepper does not agree with me though. Lucky for you, I always have an epi pen nearby or you could be facing manslaughter charges right now.” It felt strange admitting his weakness to her, but part of him wanted to key her in on the fact that he had defenses in place to protect himself. If she was a dangerous opponent, maybe she would realize she was out classed and stop pursing him.

“Chili pepper, my ass.” The brown hair beauty’s sassy grin made him long to yank her out of the car. The little brat seemed to be taunting him now. “You had a strong reaction to the garlic, just like I knew you would. Face it, Jean. I know what you are. I know why you came to the city, and I’m going to stop you from doing any harm.”

Her brave words earned her a hard glare. Before she knew what he was doing, Jean had her door opened and was pulling her out of the car. He yanked her around to the front of the vehicle, into the shadows over her hood.

“Your ass, eh? You know what I am here for? That sounds like a challenge, beautiful, almost a threat. Didn’t your daddy ever warn you not to take on people twice your size? Tell me, Camille, did Daddy ever paddle that sweet ass of yours? I bet not. You are far too cocky and nosy for your own safety. Should I take care of that omission for him? It would be a shame if someone so young and attractive got hurt because she did not have the common sense to stay out of things which were none of her business.”

Were vampires supposed to smell so good, she wondered as he crowded her into the hood of her vehicle? Camille wished she could claim the dampness in her panties came from anything but desire. The damn vampire had used his dark skills to seduce her. “I have not been spanked since I was a foolish teenager, and it wasn’t my father who did it. My brother got his underwear tied up in a knot because I slipped out my bedroom window one night to crash a frat party. He realized it was a futile thing to do when I repeated the same stunt the next week.” Why on earth was she sharing that bit of history with him? Camille put her jabbering down to nerves. Having such a sexy man crowd her was bound to make any woman uneasy.

“He must have gone too lightly on you, beautiful. Let’s see if I can get better results.” Jean turned her to face the car and pushed her over the hood with little effort. His hand clapped down hard on her backside, and she hissed in response. “I bet I am better at this than big brother. If you have the nerve to try poisoning me again, we shall know I, too, have failed.” His large palm rose and fell at least twenty times before Camille found her voice and started protesting.

“Let me up, you, big bully!” she raged. In all the visions she had about how this night might turn out, this was definitely not one of them. The spanking her brother had given her all those years before had been nothing like this. Her brother Beau had meant the use of negative reinforcement to change her behavior. The man paddling her ass now seemed to be demonstrating a display of control, letting her understand she was at his mercy. “I’ll have you arrested… thrown in jail… labeled a pervert in the local newspaper.”

“This is self-defense, beautiful.” Her vampire’s hollow laugh grated. He calmly responded to her threat. “When the cops arrive, I’ll tell them about your little poisoning attempt.”

“It’s not the same thing,” she stammered. Damn, he had her there. While she struggled to think logically, he was cold and calculated with his replies.

“You are right there. This little spanking was a spur of the moment, crime of convenience. Your poisoning stunt was premeditated.” As if his own words pissed him off more, the force behind his hand doubled. Convinced she was not feeling the true impact of his frustration, he opted to yank down her jeans.

The flimsy material framing her heart shaped ass was almost Jean’s undoing. Her panties were virginal white with a red, sassy trim around the legs and waist band. “It’s a bit dark right here, beautiful, but your ass is a nice, bright pink. I bet your foolish brother stopped by this point. You won’t be so lucky this time. I never take on a job I won’t see through to the end. I don’t like to fail, Camille. It leaves a horrible taste in my mouth.”

Her jeans around her ankles, her ass under attack, Camille regretted ever following this man here tonight. She should have stayed home to finish grading the descriptive essays her second graders wrote earlier today. Even though tomorrow was a dress down day, she was wearing her only nice pair of jeans. No doubt, they would need to be washed before she wore them again. If she ever got to wear them again, Camille realized, since her ass was now feeling swollen and bruised. She was out classed where this vampire was concerned. Maybe if she cut her loses and admitted defeat, he would let her escape without permanently altering her ability to sit.

“I promise never to ever try to poison you again,” she screamed, ready to beg for mercy. “You have to stop this now. I will be black and blue tomorrow!”

Jean seemed to be quite pleased with her capitulating. He added a few more swats to her sit spot, and then bent over to whisper in her ear. “How about you come over to my place tomorrow and I’ll check out the damage. I can even put some lotion on your beautiful ass if you are a very good, little girl and go home right now. But if you stay here, giving me nothing but sass, I will take off my belt and stripe the entire area. Then I’ll put you in a corner and make you stay there until crossing me is the last thing you ever want to do. It’s your call, Camille. Are you going to leave me to my mission tonight, or do I get to see this cute little ass, painted a delightful shade of red, displayed in my office?” One of his long fingers reached up to pull down the high collar of her shirt. His tongue licked the exposed skin and she groaned with defeat.

Her panties uncomfortably wet now, Camille jumped up the moment he released her. It was awkward trying to right her jeans and race to the driver’s seat, but she did the best she could. As if the bats of hell were on her tail, she started up the car and raced to freedom. Jean smiled as he watched her tear out of the parking lot. The little brat intrigued him. He would definitely be spending more time with this hot little number. Jean decided he would address her dangerous driving habits with her another day. Right now, he was just happy to have her out of his hair.

A dark van slowly crept up a few feet away from the back entrance of the restaurant. A teenager slipped out of the passenger side quietly and headed around the parameter of the business. All thoughts of Camille slipped away as Jean went into full alert. It was time to go hunting. It was his job to get rid of the punks harassing the customers of Katrina’s Aftermath restaurant. He was good at his job. Before daylight, the punk hiding in the shadows and his partner back in the van would be eliminated. Then his first task would be complete.


Chapter Three

Bite me

Safe in the knowledge Jean was no threat to her so long as she did not invite him into her home, Camille spied on him from her front window. He returned home before sunrise, just as she was starting her morning routine prior to work. As if he could sense her studying him, Jean turned around, scanning his surroundings until they locked eyes. Gasping, she back out of view, but it was too late. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to return to the window. He raised his hand as if to wave at her, and Camille almost found herself gesturing back.

She thought better of it when she realized he was mocking her, his hand cupped as if he were taking aim at her backside. The beast dared to remind her of the unjust attack he made upon her person last night. Had he been a normal man and not a vampire with unparalleled strength, she would march right over there and deck him right now. But with his keen eyesight and speed, he would see her coming and eat her up like the big, bad wolf, so Camille remained glued to the spot in her small apartment. Instead she mouthed the last thing a woman should tell a vampire.

“Bite me, jerk.”

Not only did he understand her insult, he chuckled and offered his own reply. “With pleasure.” He mouthed.

Every time Camille tried to take a seat at school that day, she popped up with regret. There were only a few faint bruises on her backside from yesterday’s encounter with the vampire, but he did leave a long-lasting impression of tenderness. Her seven and eight-year-old students giggled at the comical expressions she made during the day.

With today’s lax parenting culture, she figured none suspected the cause of her problem. Corporal punishment had no place in today’s society; Jean the vampire should learn, especially not where grown women were concerned. The devil had no problem manhandling her in such a way anyway. He just used his superhuman strength to yank her around, ripping off her clothes and having his way with her. Why did that last thought not appall her?

“Miss. St. Pierre, your face is all red and funny looking, like you’ve got gas or something,” one of the more vocal boys in the class announced during the science lesson.

“Ladies don’t get gas, Simon Peter. That’s just gross.” Alexa, the smartest girl in the class proclaimed. “Did one of you gross boys fart and stink her out? Why don’t you go stand by the girls, Miss St. Pierre? We aren’t disgusting like the boys are.”

The teacher’s day did not improve as the day wore on. Her fellow educators noticed her issue with sitting comfortably and teased her about partying too much during a school night. All in all, it seemed to be ‘pick on Camille St. Pierre day.’ She figured things would improve when she got home for the weekend, but she had not counted on her brother and his new wife popping over with takeout food. She had not even gotten to change out of her work clothes before the doorbell rang.

“Camille, I hope you don’t mind us coming by. We haven’t gotten to see you since our honeymoon,” Anabelle announced, holding up a pizza.

The school teacher’s brother was completely blunt about their real reason for coming to visit. “I want my gun back, Camille. I’m tired of asking nicely, so I came by to retrieve it myself.” His wife’s foot stomped into his. “What?” he demanded, looking down at her clueless. Then he seemed to catch on when Anabelle indicated toward the food. “Oh, yeah, we have pizza and beer, too.”

Disappearing into her bedroom to change, the school teacher was sorely tempted to climb in bed and pull the covers over her head. Her late-night encounter with the vampire yesterday and day long struggle to impart knowledge to antsy second graders was taking a toll on her energy. Speaking of vampires, she had stayed up most of the night tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep. Worries of Jean following her home and barging in on her to finish his attack on her person made sleep impossible. She had powered up her laptop and visited her favorite site, the vampire blog and checklist. Stumbling on the part about a vampire not being able to enter a home unless invited, helped ease her concern.

She mentally checked off the facts pointing to Jean being a member of the undead. Strong reaction to garlic, definitely, yes, Camille told herself. He had claimed it was the chili pepper; her lips thinned. As if red pepper could cause someone to swell up like a balloon. She marked a check by ‘better than normal hearing and eye sight.’ There was no other way he could have figured out she had followed him last night. For someone new to the spying game, Camille was quite astonished at her natural skills.

The school teacher knew for a fact she had been careful not to be seen. Only a detective or someone trained in being overly alert to his or her surroundings would have guessed she was there. Plus, he had also made out where she lived this morning, catching her staring at him returning home in the wee morning hours. Jean was definitely a vampire. With a little more evidence, she would be able to prove it to everyone. Though she had become close to many of the people in the chatroom, a small part of Camille thrilled in realizing she would be the first to succeed in their quest. Maybe she could invite some of the more endearing members down to New Orleans to help her bring down her vampire when the time came?

Hiding in her bedroom was not going to make the two people waiting in her living room disappear. She did not feel like company tonight. It was best to give Beau what he wanted so he and Belle would leave sooner rather than later.

Pulling the gun out of her nightstand, Camille wondered if she could convince her brother to let her keep it a bit longer. It was nice having protection with a blood sucker on the loose. Secure in the knowledge she was safe from Jean so long as she did not make the mistake of inviting him inside her home, she walked back to the living room to hand it over.

It was an old revolver, passed down from her late great grandfather to her brother Beau. His wife had asked Camille to hold it a few months before, probably because her bossy brother was driving poor Anabelle crazy, and she feared she’d shoot him. There were a few times when Camille wanted to shoot Beau herself, not to kill him, mind you, just to take his mind off bitching at how she chose to live her life. Macho men were so arrogant. It was a horrible turn off, and she wondered how her pretty new sister-in-law put up with such crap.

Why did her big brother feel the need to always give her unsolicited advice? “It’s stupid to want to get married right out of college. Go to college, Camille. Get a job, Camille. Don’t waste money on a ridiculous sports car? Pay your bills on time, Camille. You don’t want to ruin your credit score.” Her brother never stopped harping on her. She was a grown woman, dammit. It was time for him to cut the cord and let her live her own life on her own terms.

“Here’s your gun, Beau. You can stop bitching about it now.” Her thoughts made her testy. Could this day get any more aggravating? Camille entered the room and stopped cold in her tracks. Sitting on her leather couch, as cool and calm as could be, Jean the vampire gave her a knowing smile. His white teeth contrasted with his red mustache and beard.

For a moment, Camille almost raised the weapon in shock. “How did you get in here?”

“I invited him in to share the pizza,” Beau told her before taking his prized gun back and carefully examining it.

“There was a knock at the door when you were in the other room. Beau answered it, and we met Jean. He was returning a casserole dish,” Anabelle said, as she carried some plates and napkins from the kitchen. “You didn’t tell us someone moved into the old house next door.” In a whisper just for Camille’s ears, her sister-in-law added, “He’s very handsome. You have excellent taste. So much for falling for a man nothing like your brother. This guy is a sexy alpha male if I ever saw one.”

“Thank you,” Jean smiled as Anabelle handed him a plate. Camille narrowed her eyes at him. One might assume he was talking about the plate Anabelle gave him, but she knew he probably heard the comment about him being a sexy alpha man and was gloating.

“What gives you the right to invite people into my home, Beauregard?” She turned on her brother. It was his fault she was in danger now.

“I still pay the rent, baby sister.” Beau did not even bother looking up from the revolver in his hand. He seemed intent on finding something wrong with it so he could bitch at her handling of his precious possession. “Why is this thing loaded? What the hell? Is there a wooden bullet in the chamber? Where the hell did you get a wooden bullet, Camille?”

“You would be surprised what a person can order on Amazon these days.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Camille glared at the vampire. Thanks to her brother, Jean could pop in any time he wanted now. She no longer had a gun to protect herself, damn it.

“It’s a good thing you are taking that gun home with you, Beau. I’m afraid your little sister is much too immature to have such a weapon in her possession. She might accidentally shoot someone, or worse, cause harm to herself.” He had a straight face, but Camille saw the laughter in her vampire’s eyes. He was taunting her in front of her family now.

“My thoughts exactly,” Beau told him. “Besides, Camille never should have had this gun in the first place. She’ll never get her hands on it again. Will she, Belle?” Her brother glared across the room at his new, blushing bride. He was still put out with her for asking his baby sister to hold the gun for them.

“Have a beer, Beau.” His wife uncapped the bottle and handed it to him before he could say another word. She was tired of explaining her reasons for getting rid of the gun. Her husband still saw fit to nag her about it. She would point out the obvious truth to her concern about having the weapon, but somehow, she did not think reminding Beau she had shot him was a practical way to handle the situation. He still had trouble dealing with her causing him to get stabbed, and if he brought up the fire she set that he chose to walk though, she might scream. “Would you like a beer, too, Mr.… I am sorry. I didn’t catch your last name Jean.”

“Deaux.” He offered with a straight face.

The rude laughter Camille let out startled her new sister-in-law. “Doe? You expect us to believe your name is John Doe?” The school teacher pointed out.

“It’s Jean Deaux, Camille. D-E-A-U-X. It’s French.”

Jerk! Did nothing rattle this creature. “What are you doing here, Jean Deaux?” Camille demanded. Sweet little Anabelle gasped at her sister-in-law’s rude tone, and her brother stopped looking at his gun to give her a frown.

“Why, I came to return your dish, Camille. Why else would I come over, beautiful? I haven’t been invited yet; otherwise I would never just show up at your door. It would be rude.” No doubt about it. He was openly toying with her now.

Her over protective brother Beau went on full alert suddenly. He lowered the gun, but kept it close at hand. “Is there some sort of problem I should know about, Camille?”

As aggravating as he was, Beau would do everything in his power to protect her, even if he got hurt in the process. As a child, it had been easy to let her big brother handle her problems for her. Camille was not going to let that happen this time. Everyone was always telling her to grow up and handle her own trouble. The vampire was her cross to bear. She would never forgive herself if anyone else got hurt because she provoked the demon from next door.

“There is nothing to be concerned about, Beau. Mr. Deaux and I had a slight misunderstanding last night.” What plausible excuse could she use? “We ran into each other at Katrina’s Aftermath, a restaurant just outside of the city. I had decided to order take-out.”

The vampire’s eyes mocked her words before he spoke. “Funny, I didn’t notice any take out bags in your car last night.” Taking a large bite of the pizza Anabelle offered him earlier; Jean licked the tomato sauce which lingered on his red lips, as if it were blood from her own neck and he was starving for a bite.

“I lost my appetite,” Camille muttered. What a jerk! She longed to add. She dared not say more because Beau was finally relaxing again.

“Speaking of Katrina’s Aftermath,” Anabelle interrupted, unaware of the tension in the room. “Did you hear about the big ruckus which happened not too far from there late last night? It wasn’t on the regular news, but I heard about it on one of those radio talk shows. A caller was talking about a police arrest a few businesses down. A couple of teenage gang members were arrested. I gathered they are suspects in a few armed robberies in the neighborhood. Anyway, this person said the guys being arrested looked beat up pretty bad. I suspect they picked the wrong person to try to mug.”

“If two guys were arrested, they must have faced off with more than one person. I assume they were carrying guns with them, so it would take one hell of a strong man to take both of them down.” Beau commented. Camille nodded, watching the vampire carefully. Yet another item to check off her list: superior strength.

“According to the caller, the guys would not say what happened to them, but you are probably right, Beau.” Anabelle appeared happy the discussion about the gun was over. The new bride smiled to herself. Learning to defuse her husband’s temper was becoming easier with practice. Why, she had managed to avoid a punishment spanking from Beau for months now.

Camille was keyed in to the location of the commotion. “You say it happened right outside of Katrina’s Aftermath? Last night?” Odd, since that was where she left the vampire last night. When she escaped being his nightly feast, did those two gang members wander too close to Jean Deaux? Camille glared at her neighbor, wondering if he had any more jeers to toss her way.

“Not at Katrina’s,” Anabelle explained. “It happened a few businesses down, thank goodness. I met Beau at that restaurant, you know. I would hate to think we could not go there anymore because a gang was hanging around the area.”

“I bet the owners are relieved those guys were not picked up in their parking lot. Stuff like that would negatively impact their business.” Beau commented while he put the gun back in its holster and sat down on the plush sofa to eat a slice of pizza.

His baby sister seemed more irritated with her visitor than afraid. His gut told him to warn the other guy to stay away from Camille, but he needed to let her handle this situation herself. She was a grown woman, and he needed to give her space to live and learn. “I hear there is a company outside of Lake Charles which helps businesses avoid problems like gang members and other illegal activities before it costs them business. They send men out to eliminate issues before the press gets ahold of them. One of my clients used them once for a business he owned in Baton Rouge. He claims the business is discrete and dependable.”

The school teacher noted her vampire grinned at the tale her brother shared. Cocky bastard, she groaned. She ought not to try pissing him off, but something made her poke her adversary. “I bet the business where those gang members were found wished they had hired a company like that,” Camille said quietly. She wondered if the Lake Charles company took on vampires, too. Having a blood sucker hovering outside your business, probably would spook customers away. “I wonder how much a service like that costs?” She glared at Jean as she spoke.

“More than you could afford, beautiful,” the vampire said with a sexy smile. “Besides, it would be safer for you to stay away from places where trouble might be brewing. I suggest you stop roaming around the city at night. A little thing like you could find herself in a lot of trouble.” Those mesmerizing eyes were laughing at her, but there was good deal of censor in his tone.

“I can take care of myself,” she muttered. He was trying to scare her off, control her actions, and it ticked her off. She needed to take control or Beau would likely join forces with the vampire and double team her. It was time to eliminate one alpha man from the scene. “Are you finished with your beer and pizza, Mr. Deaux?” she asked with forced politeness, before dropping the act and getting to the point. “Good. I’m tired. I’ll just show you the exit. It’s late, after all. I am sure you have places to go and people to… see.” She longed to say ‘bite’ but Beau would demand an explanation and she would never ditch her over protective sibling.

Instead of being insulted, he laughed merrily at Camille’s words. At the door, he pulled something out of his jean pocket. Handing it to her, his large palm lingered over her tiny hand. “Would you like me to check your… backside for any bruises, Camille?” He used her first name so easily, in a seductive tone. “This lotion will help ease any lingering discomfort. I hope you learned your lesson about following me around, beautiful. No amount of lotion will help ease the pain I whip up on that sexy ass of yours if you keep poking around in my business.”

“Asshole,” she said, trying to screw her face up into a threatening scowl. Damn, she realized she probably only managed to look like she had gas again. Why did this red-headed, pale, pain in the ass vampire get to her so badly? She despised arrogant, bossy men. Give her a metro-man any day, someone who did not try to control her life.

It was part of the curse, Camille told herself. Vampires were seductive creatures. She could not help but be drawn to him. Her panties were damp again, damn him. Even the presence of her big brother and his naive wife did little to stop the affect this man had on her. Every time she saw him, she found herself wanting to jump his bones.

“Is the offer still open, beautiful?” He smiled, his pale blue eyes mocking her reaction to him.

“What offer?” Damn, she hated being so flustered around this vampire. Could he smell her response to him? Vampires had super senses, after all.

“Why, to bite you, of course.” He chuckled loudly as she grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open to throw him out. “Sleep tight, beautiful. So long as you stay out of my way, I won’t be back for any unexpected visit.”

“And if I don’t stay out of your way?” That came out sounding weak even to her own ears, Camille knew.

“It would be very unwise to cross me, Camille St. Pierre. Don’t forget. I know where you live. Nothing can stop me from coming over here anytime I want to exact some revenge. You don’t want to mess with the big, bad wolf, little girl. You might not recover from my bite.” With those parting words, he disappeared into the night.


Chapter Four

Breaking and entering

Camille typed away in the chat room, filling her vampire colleagues in on her progress. “I have a lead on the genuine thing here in New Orleans. I’ve already marked off several indicators on the checklist pointing to his true identity as a vampire. John Doe only goes out at night.” She smiled at being able to use a version of his real name without fear someone would show up and snap her find away.

The keyboard clicked as she typed away, filling in her audience with details of her hunt. “Mr. Doe had a strong reaction to garlic. I witnessed it firsthand after serving him a meal laced with the spice.”

Her chat room friends were duly impressed by her bold action, but warned her to be cautious in her future endeavors, lest she went from hunter to hunted. Jealousy, she told herself and continued sharing her new insight into Jean Deaux.

“His eye sight marvels that of a wolf. He picks up on conversations no mere human could hear.” He heard her telling him to bite her from clear across the street, but she did not dare share that detail here. Her friends were already overly concerned about her actions.

Her fellow bloggers were intrigued by her find and asked for more information. “What does he look like?

She answered without censoring her words. “He’s sexy as hell, even though he is very pale. No one mentioned vampires could have red hair, but mine has a beautiful mane of thick, luscious red hair. Oh, and he has a full beard. No freckles though… well at least none I’ve seen yet. I’m still investigating.”

“Does he sleep in a coffin?” Vamphunter37 wanted to know.

“Have you seen him feed on blood yet?” Suckmedry asked.

“Need any help following him around? I’m single and love redheads.” Hotchick offered.

Camille frowned at the mere suggestion. “Find your own damn vampire,” she typed, but thought better of pressing enter. Backspacing, she decided to be diplomatic instead. “Thanks for wanting to help, but I’ve got this whole hunt under control. I plan on scoping out my vampire’s place tonight, while he is out looking for his next victim. Did I mention he never goes out in the daylight? He never stays home at night, either. As for watching him feast on blood, he has offered to bite me a few times.”

Why did she feel naughty thinking about that offer? Sharing with others seemed an invasion of privacy toward her and Jean’s relationship. Relationship? Camille reeled herself back in. She was not romantically linked with the vampire. She was too damn smart for that kind of fatal mistake.

“You lucky dog!” Hotchick responded. “Are you sure you don’t need a look out? I could keep John Doe busy while you search his place. I don’t mind, really.”

Had Camille realized Hotchick was a fifty-four-year-old grandmother, she might not have been so curt with her reply. “Find your own damn vampire! This one is mine.” Goodness, didn’t the other woman know any boundaries.

Camille signed off, worried some of the others in the chat room might be computer geeks who would be able to follow her computer’s signal to her location and try to steal Jean Deaux from her. Now all she had to do was figure out how to get into his place.

Dressed in a cute little Clover Canyon crop top and short set, she grabbed the tool kit she special ordered from Amazon and headed out into the night. Moving in stealth mode, Camille made her way across the parking lot and toward Jean’s back yard. Since he never returned home until almost dawn, she figured she could pick the lock on the back door, scope out his home and be gone in a half hour tops.

It was just her luck the door was harder to unlock than she anticipated. Maybe she should have checked out the tools and instructions before she came over, Camille pondered. She turned the doorknob in frustration, upset when it did not budge. Thank goodness, her vampire was out prowling or he would have heard her cursing in frustration.

A shadow moved just out of her view at a nearby bay window. Camille was about to give up on her mission when she happened to reach for the doorknob and it easily turned for her to enter this time. She did it, the school teacher congratulated herself. She actually managed to break in to a vampire’s lair.

How she wished she could brag about her new skill! Too bad this was something she would never be able to tell others about without admitting to a crime. The school system she worked for would likely fire her. Parents no doubt frowned on teachers who mastered breaking and entering skills working with their offspring. Pocketing the tool set in her shorts, she eased open the door and inched her way inside.

Thankful she had already been in the room before, Camille was able to navigate the area without turning on a light. She headed to the refrigerator, never suspecting a shadowed figure followed just beyond sight. Opening the appliance, she was curious about what her vampire consumed, besides blood, of course.

Darn, the contents were pretty bland. There was a cartoon of eggs, a half-gallon of milk and some lunch meat. The bottle of thick, red liquid on the door stopped her in her tracts. She reached for it to get a better look. Crap. The label said V8 juice. For a moment Camille was sure she had solid proof.

Taking off the lid, she took a sniff, just in case her vampire got creative with the way he hid his blood supply. Making a sour face, she put the lid back on. Vegetables were never one of her favorite foods. Slamming the refrigerator with disgust, she decided to move on with her search. The bathroom mirror was cracked she noticed. Maybe Jean broke it in a fit of rage when he could not see his own reflection? If she tried to use this as part of her confirmation of him being a vampire, others would claim it could have already have been broken when he moved in. She needed to keep searching for more proof.

The door to his bedroom creaked with a loud protest when she let herself in. She put her finger to her lips and frowned at it, worried someone would hear and come investigate. Frozen for a few minutes, she waited anxiously. When no one came to investigate, she slipped inside the bedroom and studied her surroundings.

There were no curtains on the windows. Instead they were blocked out with dark blinds. Switching on the light, she flooded the room confident the covering would stop any light from seeping out. It was definitely the type of room a vampire might have. The queen size bed was no coffin, but the dark covering gave the impression of a deathbed. Walking over, she picked up a fluffy pillow and inhaled the scent. It smelled like Jean, a combination of soap and sexy musk.

“Find what you were looking for?” A deep voice asked and a shadow filled the doorway.

Raising her hands to her face, Camille screamed long and loud. “You scared the shit out of me. Did you have to sneak up behind me like that?”

He strode over to her and removed the pillow from her hands. Replacing it on the bed, he gave her a curious look. “For a would-be Goldilocks, you stink at breaking and entering, beautiful.”

There he went again, underestimating her abilities. “I got inside, didn’t I?” Hands on hips, she scoffed at him.

“I unlocked the door because I got bored with waiting for you to figure out how to unlock it. When I move out, I hope to get my safety deposit back. That’s not likely if I allow nosy neighbors to damage the doorknobs. What are you doing here, Camille?”

Praising herself on thinking ahead, she pulled out something from her back pocket to show him. “I was returning your lotion.” Instead of the tube she was hoping to hand him; she gave him her plastic container of lock picking tools. She tried to take then back, but he held them out of reach.

“I see you did not heed my warning about staying out of my business, beautiful.” He sounded very disappointed with her, and she had the strong urge to apologize. Camille fought it and crossed her hands over her chest.

“No excuses? None? Okay, then let’s get down to business addressing your naughty, dangerous behavior.” He sat on the bed and yanked her over his lap. Jean found he much preferred this position for correcting the petite spitfire. The lighting was much better for him to see what he was doing. Making quick work of her cute shorts, he had her bare-assed, except for her panties, green with yellow trim tonight. Whistling at the perfectly formed globes, he decided any spankings he gave this little miss would be given this way. A smudge on the creamy surface caught his attention, and the beast grabbed the skin to pull it where he could get a better look. “Well, well, well, it looks like someone bruises a lot easier than I suspected. Only one little, light bruise, though. I must have gone too easy on you the last time, beautiful.”

“You bastard! It still hurts when I try to sit down.” She huffed, frustrated to find herself on the receiving end of another one of his assaults. “Let me up, or I’ll… I’ll scream.”

The flat of his hand connected with her sensitive flesh in response. “Please do call for help. I hope the police arrive. Someone appears to have broken into my dwelling. After I exact my own revenge, I still might have you arrested.”

“Ow, ow, ow!” Camille gasped. She dared not cry out too loud. Having to call up her brother and explain getting fired for being arrested made her control her frustration and pain. “I didn’t steal anything, damn it.” Then a loophole popped in her head. “You let me in, by your own admission. You said you unlocked the damn door.”

“Keep swearing and I’ll wash your mouth out with soap next, beautiful.”

“You son-of-a-bit… jerk!” She thought better of challenging him again. Doing so was not working out so well for her already.

“So, your unwise behavior can be modified? Interesting.” He continued smacking away at her backside. The sound was loud and erotic at the same time.

“I’m sorry, okay? You can stop beating me now.” Camille wiggled, unaware she was giving him an eyeful with every move.

“These cute little panties don’t hide much, do they? Next time I have to repeat this lesson, they come down, too. You keep upping the ante in this little game we’re playing, beautiful. I’m going to call your bluff every time.”

He punctuated every word with a hard slap. “This is not a beating, by the way. It is not in my nature to beat women. You might not believe this, but most ladies don’t have as much trouble dealing with me.”

“Bastard,” she muttered. Women no doubt threw themselves at the sexy vampire.

His hand paused at her word. He almost knocked her off his lap in his haste to stand up. Pulling her into the bathroom, he switched on the light and turned on the water. Grabbing a bar of soap from the shower, he wet it before holding it up to her mouth. “I warned you about using foul words, beautiful.”

Pursing her lips tightly, Camille shook her head at him. He kept the bar close by as he blocked her escape route. Cornered against the vanity and his unyielding frame, she refused to give in. The jerk reached over with his other hand, which was no longer needed to hold her in place, and pinched her nose. It took less than a half minute for the school teacher to start gasping for air. The damn soap was jammed between her lips, scraping against her teeth. “Nasty words have no place coming out of such a beautiful mouth. Remember that the next time you feel the need to spew such foul language, my little Camille.”

The same smell of soap which turned her on from his pillow now had her gagging. When he finally let her go, she turned around and used the water pouring into the sink to rinse her mouth. Straightening up, she turned to glare at him. The last thing Camille expected was him to claim her lips. Unlike when he wanted to insert the soap inside, Jean did not have to work so hard to get her to open her sweet mouth wide for his tongue. He tasted so good, she found herself returning the kiss. His hot tongue explored inside, making her quiver with lust. If he could to this to her with his tongue, what would having him inside her do?

“Delicious, beautiful,” he said as he broke the kiss. “You sure are a pretty little thing right now; your lips are full and red from my kiss. I could eat you up.” His eyes peered in the broken mirror. Spying her red backside, he felt overcome with a surge of passion the likes of which he had not experienced since he was a teenager. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her back to the bedroom.


Chapter Five

The hunter becomes the hunted

Standing her beside the bed, Jean forced himself to slow down. Now was not the time for rash actions. He had come to New Orleans for a specific reason. Did he really want to complicate things by starting a relationship with this bratty, incredibly sexy woman? If they went through with making love, it would have the opposite effect of making her stay away from him. Not only could it put her in danger, but he did not know if he would be able to walk away after one night of casual sex. Something about Camille St. Pierre tugged at his heart, not that he liked to admit he had one. One taste and he might not be able to set her free again.

“We can play this one of two ways, beautiful,” he told her, bending down to nibble on her neck. “You can put those tiny shorts of yours back on and run back to the safety of your apartment.”

“What’s option two?” She lifted her neck to give him better access. Her vampire was so seductive and forceful. She was falling under his spell.

“You can drop those panties, pull off that scrap of material trying to pass as a shirt, and let me take you so fast and so hard, we both explode into a thousand pieces.”

He’s a vampire, Camille reminded herself. Backing away from his embrace, she tried to recall all the drawbacks of taking a member of the undead as a lover. They would never be able to see the light of day together. Menu options would be limited when they went out to eat. Being a vampire probably did not come with a health insurance plan or health benefits. But the nights would be so incredibly sweet and satisfying.

Even the school teacher understood she had a serious problem with delayed gratification. Her shorts lay a few feet away, where they had fallen when he marched her to the bathroom to wash out her mouth with soap. That memory left a sour taste in her mouth. Her neck still tingled from his teeth, and his skillful kiss had swept away any lingering hint of soap.

Don’t do it, she ordered herself, but even Camille understood there was no turning back now. She was in lust with a damn vampire. Something about his dark ways and masculine arrogance made her completely wet with desire. She might never get another chance to fulfill her fantasy about making love to a real vampire. Grabbing the bottom of her cotton top, she quickly pulled it over her head before she had a chance to change her mind.

Jean stared down at her breasts. The nipples were rosy. His pupils grew larger and he seemed to enjoy the sight. Reaching to pull up his own shirt, he licked his lips with anticipation. He may have promised her fast and hard, but something about making love to this little brat wanted him to savor every second. “Come here,” he ordered with a crick of his finger.

Camille walked to him as if she were in a trance. He stood her next to the bed, and reached his fingers to trace a circle around her breast, first the left, then the right, his hand stopping over the strong beating of her heart. “Relax, beautiful. I’ll take care of you. Can you trust me enough to let yourself go?”

Nodding, she tried to calm the rate of her heartbeat. He took her hand and put it on his own chest. Soon she was in-sync with his own rate, matching the rise and fall of his warm skin Odd, she would have thought a vampire’s skin would be cold, but his was warm and inviting.

“What a good little girl you are, Camille. Let me show you how proud I am.” He bared his teeth before lowering his mouth to her right nipple. It disappeared inside the warmth of his lips before he clamped down. Her panties were ruined now, Camille realized.

“Lay down on the bed for me, my beautiful little brat. Let me feast my eyes on you.”

He pulled back the dark covers of his bed and helped her find a comfortable spot to settle. Then her vampire stepped back to study her. Those dark circles around his blue eyes were almost glowing now. Camille bit her lip and feared she might come before he even touched her. How embarrassing would that be? She groaned with frustration. His fingers settled on his belt and she heard the hiss as he pulled it free from his jeans.

“I bet you are the type of lady who likes it a bit dark, uh? Shall I use this leather to bind you to the headboard, you naughty little burglar?” Instead of being afraid of the concept, she shyly nodded her consent. He looped the belt and pulled her wrists tightly together before passing it through the headboard slats. “Listen carefully, Camille. Your safe word is…”

“Vampire,” she said breathlessly.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Odd word choice, but okay. If things get too intense, all you need to say is vampire, and I will free your hands and send you home immediately. Use that word wisely, beautiful. Once play has stopped, it won’t start again. Do you understand?”

She nodded, but he demanded a verbal confirmation. “Yes, I understand, but what if I get overwhelmed. I would hate to stop things because I got a little scared.”

“Oh, I plan to overwhelm you, Camille. Before we are through, you will run the gamut of being terrorized to completely sated and every feeling in between. Going along with your vampire theme, we’ll use blood as your back off a bit word. If things get a bit too intense, all you have to say is blood, and I’ll slow down and back off slightly. But try not to use it, sweetheart. I promise you the rewards for playing by my rules far outweigh the cons. Let’s begin, shall we?”

Walking to the foot of the bed, he watched her. Her breasts were arched high because of her bindings. Her cheeks were flushed and her stomach rose and fell at a quickened pace. He crawled toward her on all fours, stopping only when he straddled her hips. “Open your mouth wide.” Camille slowly parted her lips, but he wanted full compliance.

“Naughty little girl. I said to open it wide.” His palm reached down to pinch her exposed nipple. Her mouth formed a circle of outrage. Jean groaned with satisfaction and bent down to lock his lips to hers. Before long, his tongue was sparing with her own, forcing her to retreat left or right as he deemed appropriate. When she dared to try sampling his mouth, he bit down hard on her tongue.

“Rule number one, beautiful. Your job is to respond, not initiate. That’s my role. If I want your delightful tongue down my throat, I’ll tell you when and how to do it. I’m in control in the bedroom. Always. No negotiation. Now, do you want to say anything before we continue? No? Not even blood? Good girl. Let’s resume play, shall we.” He backed down her body until her chest was his new focus. “You have the perfect breasts; did you know that? They are nice and plump, begging to be tasted. Shall I taste them, beautiful?”

The very idea had her bucking under him. She lifted her chest upward, but he pinched her nipple in response. “Use your words, Camille. Tell me if you want me to take those pouty nipples between my teeth. I bite, honey, so think carefully before you respond.”

“Please taste me, Jean. Oh my goodness, if you don’t speed things up a bit, I might freaking explode.”

This time he pinched her other nipple. “Freaking counts as a foul word, beautiful. We’ll address that offense later. Now, watch me taste these spectacular breasts. Look away and I’ll be forced to punish you again.”

It was impossible to cross her legs with him anchoring her in place, so Camille clenched her inner muscles instead. Her brown eyes met his and he smiled at her before lowering his mouth to capture one nipple. He sucked it long and hard and she almost screamed with the sensation. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and he happened to glance up at her at that same moment. He bit down hard then. His teeth pulled out the dark tip of her breast while his fingers pinched down hard on the other one.

Lifting her head, she forced herself to watch him again. His mouth softened again, and his fingers started caressing her in ways which both delighted and frustrated Camille. His lips traced the globes of her breasts, his fingers following the same path. Then his tongue swept across her ribcage, and she moaned with satisfaction. His hot mouth worked its way lower and lower, slowly and with great care.

Before she could comprehend what was happening, he ripped her panties off in one swift motion. Backing off of her even more, he gave her a wicked grin. “Bend your knees, beautiful.” Her mind was mush and his words did not register at first. He was gracious enough to repeat them, but it cost her a slap across her thigh for each syllable.

“That’s better, Camille. Now spread those legs apart for me. Wider. Perfect.” For what seemed like an eternity, he just feasted his eyes on her. Camille was sure he could see her reaction to his dominance. It was positively dripping off her by now.

“If your hands weren’t otherwise occupied, beautiful, I would have you reach down and spread those pouty lips wide for me to examine you. Do you touch yourself when you’re all alone in your cute little apartment? I bet you do. I bet you slip those slender fingers all around this little nub. Tell me, Camille. Do you rub it nice and slow like this?”

His fingers put the barest pressure on where she longed for him to focus. “Or do you prefer it more intense, like this?” His index finger pressed down until she was bucking off the bed again. With alarming speed, he flicked his finger faster and faster until she was about to explode. Then he pulled away and gave her a reproachful glance.

His palm slapped against the inside of her thigh, leaving a large hand print in its path. “Did you ask permission to come? Who’s in control in the bedroom, beautiful?”

“How the hell am I supposed to control myself when you’re touching me like that? Would you just hurry up and fuck me already?”

Rising completely off of her, he put an arm behind her knees and raised them high in the air. For a moment, Camille thought he was finally going to take her. Then he reached down and started slapping her exposed ass instead. There was no playful smile on his face, no seductive tone in his voice as he lectured her on using such a foul word.

“Don’t ever let me hear that word come out of your mouth again, beautiful. I don’t care where we are or who is around. I will bare your ass and paint it red. Do you hear me?”

The word vampire was on her lips. At least scream blood, she ordered herself. Camille clamped her lips together. She had come too far and was too close to completion to give up now. Instead, she spoke in a demur, slow tone. “I’m sorry for cursing, Jean. Please forgive me.”

He released her knees and they fell to the bed, spread wide and quaking. Giving her a satisfied nod, he inched back up the bed. His lips sampled the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and she was sure he was going to taste her then, but instead he moved to the other thigh. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“Testing you,” he corrected. “Who’s in control, beautiful? Say it. Beg me to eat you.”

“Bast… jerk,” she corrected herself. “You are in charge. You have total control. Please, put your mouth… there.”

“Where?” he smirked, resting his elbow on the bed between her legs and looking up at her.

Bucking up, she situated herself at his eye level.

“Here!” His finger reached up to point to her thigh and bit down. “Here?” he asked and she groaned before falling back down. “No? Oh, maybe you meant here,” his fingers slipped to an area of her body no one had ever touched before.

“No, not there either. You sure? Okay, then. I have other uses for that area anyway. Don’t worry; not for tonight. You’re going to have to be very specific on where you want me to focus my efforts, Camille. Spit it out.”

“Will you please use your tongue on my… my cunt, pussy, nub, whatever you want to call it. Do you want me to beg? Fine, I am begging you to lick me. Make me come with your mouth, your fingers or your co… penis,” she said, feeling him tense at her poor word choice.

“Why don’t I start with my tongue, follow it up with my fingers, and finish you off with my cock, beautiful?” His head buried between her thighs and she groaned with relief, followed quickly by desire, and when his fingers reached inside her channel to widen the area, with shock. He was flicking his fingers against some secret patch of nerves inside and she was flooding without control. When she started screaming, he pulled himself up and over her body. He was positioned just outside of her channel and she could feel the heat of his erection. “Any last words, beautiful?”

Already overcome with her own release, she told herself it would serve him right if she yelled out one of her safe words right now. Instead, she groaned, “You are the one in control, Jean. I’ll leave it up to you what you want to do next.”

“I could come to love you, beautiful,” he whispered, surging inside and finding his own satisfaction way too soon.


Chapter Six

Reporting her progress

Inhaling deeply in her sleep, Camille pulled her pillow closer. She was having the most wonderful dream about making love to her vampire. He was so demanding, so powerful, and so skilled at making her ache. She never wanted to wake up from the fantasy. Stretching beneath the warm covers, she nestled into a ball, marveling at all the different parts of her body which felt his touch. He had made her beg in her dreams, and she loved every moment of it. Her eyes slowly peeked open. Was it just a dream?

Sitting up, she clutched a dark sheet to her chest and tried to focus on her surroundings. She was definitely not in her own apartment. Oh, no. She was in her vampire’s. It had not been a fantasy her mind created. The scent of their love making still clung to the air. Jean was no were in sight. Camille got up and tippy toed to the bathroom to see if he was there, but it was empty.

She switched on the light and gasped at her reflection. Her neck and breasts were sporting a riot of passion marks. Turning around, she discovered her backside was dotted with faint bruises, too. What the hell was she thinking? She was supposed to be verifying if he was a vampire, not letting him seduce her.

A horrible thought popped into her mind. Leaning toward the mirror, she ran her finger up and down the side of her neck, afraid she might find fang marks there. Had he fed on her last night? There were no puncture wounds. Why hadn’t he marked her that way? Silent outrage coursed through her. Wasn’t she good enough to wear his bite? Well, the red splotches of skin on her sensitive neck did resemble teeth marks. Maybe he hadn’t been hungry when he claimed her last night. Where the hell… heck was he now, anyway?

After she dressed, Camille checked out the kitchen. A hand scrawled note rested on the table. “Work calls, beautiful. I wish I could have stayed next to you, watching you sleep like a little angel, all compliant and innocent looking. Lock the door when you head out. I hear there are sexy little burglars roaming around the area. JD. P.S. I’m so glad you didn’t say vampire? How about you?”

Compliant and innocent, those words rankled some, but she still cooed. He thought she was a sexy little angel; Camille smiled and hugged the note to her chest. Yes, she was very glad she had not used her safe words.

As crazy as it seemed, she did not feel in any danger when she let him tie her to the headboard. Even when he lifted her legs as if she were a baby so he could paddle her ass, she had not feared him. Her vampire would never really harm her. He even admitted he could fall in love with someone like her. It was still dark outside when she made her way home. She powered up her computer and logged in to her favorite chat room.

Sleep alluded her for the moment. She had to share her news with someone. “My vampire does not sleep in a coffin, but a comfortable queen size bed. His windows are blacked out so no sun can penetrate his lair. All signs point to him being very powerful. Time to check out any other ways to verify his identity. Wish me luck.” It did not seem polite to talk about her vampire’s seductive skills. Some things were meant to be private, between a blood sucker and his mate, right?

She started reviewing the checklist for recognizing a vampire again. Jean fit the bill all right. The evidence was piling up. Soon she found herself searching sights of suspected vampires throughout history. An old-time photo of a man who bore a striking resemblance to Nicholas Cage caught her eye. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people speculated about the man’s relationship to the actor. Quite a few even suggested the actor might be a vampire. The resemblance was uncanny, after all.

On a whim, Camille googled the name Jean Deaux to see if he might have any long, lost relatives she could trace. J.P. Deaux’s image popped out in a search of the state’s data bases. Her vampire was a dead ringer for the man, which was odd since the caption put the man pictured as living in the mid eighteen hundreds.

Next, she found a picture of two men who ran a company out of Lake Charles. While both looked remarkably alike, she knew her vampire was the one on the left. The caption said the brothers were Paul and Jean Deaux, personal consultants, but only gave a vague description of their line of work. The best she could figure out was they were brothers who specialized in trouble shooting business issues before they became a liability.

What the heck did that mean? Pulling up the original picture of J.P. Deaux, she compared it to her vampire’s photo. There was no doubt in her mind about it. If the man in the picture was not Jean, it was someone who could pass as his identical twin. It was yet another sign which proved her lover was a vampire.

She stood by the window, watching for his return before sunrise. True to his pattern, he walked to his front door a good half hour before daybreak. His fit body turned toward her apartment and his eyes seemed to search for her. Camille waved at him, feeling a bit awkward about how to handle the morning after situation.

He waved his hand for her to come to him. Without hesitation, she did his bidding. As if in a trance, she eliminated the distance which separated them. He unlocked the entrance and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “Shall we have a bit to eat before or after I make you come, beautiful.

“Whichever you choose, sir. I am at your mercy, Mr. Deaux. After all, you are the one in control in the bedroom, right?”

“Good answer, my beauty. Take off your clothes and wait for me in the kitchen. I am going to take a quick shower and clean up. Then I am going to pin you face down to the table and bury myself inside your hot little body. When I finish, I will feed you some breakfast to help you recover your strength. I’m off tomorrow and after a few minutes of sleep, I plan on making love to you over and over again today.”

“Why do I have to strip before you shower? No offense, Jean, but your home is a bit chilly. I’d rather wait for you to join me in the kitchen before I get naked.” Giving up total control to her vampire was not without challenges. Camille liked doing things her way and change was going to take some time.

“Oh, but it’s not about what you would rather do. I want you bare and waiting, knowing what I plan to do to you, anxious about how soon I’ll finish washing, but even more excited about what I’m going to do to you. Trust me, when I finish showering, I don’t want to waste time undressing you and getting you wet and ready for me. You’ll be ready for me when I do finish. In fact, go ahead and clear off the table and lean over it. I want to find your gorgeous legs spread wide.”

He unfastened his jeans and pulled them, along with his underwear, completely off. His erection sprang out and upward, making her knees go weak. He pulled her hand over to touch him. “I’m ready for you, beautiful. Are you ready for me?”

His thickness and length gave her pause for a moment, but she gained control of her fears. It fit last night. Surely it would work again today. Releasing him, Camille started stripping and backing away to the kitchen. She was already soaking with anticipation.

Last night he had been so maddeningly slow and deliberate. Today he seemed to want to rush ahead to the main attraction. Was he trying to keep her off balance? If so, it was working. But damn, if she did not savor every second lying across the cool surface of his kitchen table, imagining what it would be like when he mounted her. If this was the prize, she could learn to enjoy giving up control to her vampire lover.

After what seemed like an hour, but in reality was only a few minutes, he strode into the kitchen to find her positioned exactly as he had ordered. “Too bad, beautiful. I was kind of hoping you would be a bit bratty and force me to pepper that sweet, sexy ass of yours. But such perfect obedience warrants a reward, not a punishment.” His hand reached between her legs and he groaned with approval. “Nice and slippery.”

He guided himself inside her, inch by inch, wasting no time on foreplay. Neither of them needed more preparation. Once seated inside, he stopped moving for a moment giving her time to adjust to his size. Then he reached up to grab onto her hips and used them as leverage to hold her in place as he started moving inside her.

The old table squeaked loudly, but he only increased his pace. Her face lying against the cool surface of the table, Camille felt herself tensing tighter and tighter around his cock. Soft moans escaped her lips while deep grunts of pleasure roared from his. “So tight. So wet. So perfect.” His words of praise excited her even more.

His strokes were less controlled now. “Let’s help you come from this perfect little nub first, shall we?” His fingers slipped between her and the table. While he pushed in and out of her, his fingers rubbed a relentless pattern over her clit. If she wanted to hold off her release, he did not let her. Not giving her a chance to recover, his fingers moved faster and faster until she shattered into a million pieces.

“That’s my good girl. Now let’s see if I can find just the right angle to hit that sweet spot deep inside your channel, beautiful. He pulled out and got her to turn until she was sitting on the edge of the table. Then he lifted her into his arms and she guided him inside. Moving her hips a bit higher and settling her a bit farther to the right, he started lifting her hips up and down along his length. Just as he predicted, he found her sweet spot and she was climbing the ledge to another explosive release.

“Wrap those legs around me, beautiful. Tighter. You’re getting even wetter for me now. Are you ready to explode yet? I don’t know if I can hold off any longer, Camille. Maintaining control around you is a challenge.”

Throwing her head back, she started shouting his name. A few curse words probably slipped out, too, but her vampire did not seem to take notice. He was too busy finding his own release to focus on anything but spilling his seed. “You are going to kill me, Camille St. Pierre.” He eased her down and pulled her toward the bathroom with him so they could clean up before eating.

“I’d never dream of killing you, Jean.” Maybe proving he was a vampire did not matter so much anymore. She did not want to share her lover with anyone. The thought of any of her chat friends trying to track down her vampire chilled her to the bone. He could get hurt by one of them as they tried to prove his true identity.

Instead of outing him, suddenly her mission was to protect him. She would put herself between him and anyone daring to try to hurt her vampire. Sacrifices needed to be made, but she was willing to put in the effort. Jean would eventually have to agree to give up his prowling at night, of course, once he realized how important she was to him. If he needed to feed, she would let him drink from her. The concept of sharing him in any way filled her with rage.

“Do you have to go to work next week?” she asked as the hot water sprayed down on them. He took his time soaping a large wash cloth before pulling her away from the jet of water to bathe her. He began scrubbing her neck and chest with the cloth.

“I’m afraid so, beautiful. I only have a limited time in New Orleans. There are still a lot of things I need to get done. Let’s not dwell on the time we can’t be together. I want you by my side every day.”

“It’s Saturday. Come Monday, I have to go back to work. I’m a school teacher, remember.” He was leaving soon. Those words tore at her heart. She had just found him, and he was already planning to leave her behind. How much time did she have to prove how important she was to his future plans?

He covered every inch of her body with suds before taking down the shower head and aiming it to rinse her off. “Let’s worry about Monday when it gets here, beautiful.”


Chapter Seven

The stakeout

“Tell me again why we are following your hot neighbor?” Anabelle asked Camille, who was keeping an eye on Jean’s vehicle up ahead.

“He recognizes my car.” The school teacher said, as if that explained everything. “Stop driving like a grandma, Belle. We are going to lose him.” Her sister-in-law was such a goody-goody. She followed all the rules and never thought to push limits. As much as she adored Belle, it drove Camille crazy. “Why don’t you pull over and let me drive? Watch him. He’s turning right up ahead. Don’t slow down for the red light. It’s still yellow. We can make it!”

“I think it is best if I stay behind the wheel, Camille. No offense, honey, but you drive like a maniac. There is no way I am letting you drive my baby.” Belle’s 1985 Buick Grand National was a classic. Her great-aunt had given it to her. Beau had bought her a brand-new car with all the latest whistles and bells, but Belle preferred the way her old Buick drove.

“If your Jean Deaux notices your sports car, he surely will pick up on an antique vehicle trailing him. Why are we following him, anyway?”

“I want to see where he goes every night. For two weeks, he always went to Katrina’s Aftermath. Now, he does not even drive past the place.” Frustrated by her sister-in-law’s driving, Camille fretted they would lose him. She started pressing her foot on the floor board of the old car, as if there was an invisible gas pedal on the passenger side. “I should have taken a cab.”

“Maybe he wants to avoid the crime issue close to Katrina’s? Was it around the same time the cops picked up those gang members a few businesses down?”

“That’s exactly when it was…” Now Camille’s mind ran through dozens of reasons which might connect those events. Had her vampire tried to feed on one of the gang members, but the cops showed up before he could subdue anyone?

“Pay attention, Belle. He’s pulling over. Slow down. I think he just pulled into the bingo hall parking lot.” Jiving this fact was more challenging than trying to connect Jean to the gang members’ arrest. She associated bingo with the elderly. Jean might be ancient, but he was still in his prime.

“Should we pull in to the bingo hall, too?” Belle asked.

“Oh, God, no! I can’t chance him seeing me. Jean would be very pissed off if he caught me following him again. Can you pull into that gas station next door? I want to see if he goes inside.”

They set up their stakeout near the entrance to a carwash next to the gas station. Belle’s car faded into the shadows of an unlit part of the parking lot. For a few hours, the two women waited. Jean Deaux had entered the bingo hall, sticking out like a sore thumb next to the gray-haired regulars going inside. He stepped outside every once in a while, and Camille forced Belle to slide down out of sight with her, in case he happened to look their way.

Like clockwork, a few moments after Jean came outside each time, a person was escorted out by a guard and seen to his or her vehicle. “I wonder what that’s all about?” The school teacher pondered aloud.

“What? The person being seen to their car? My great aunt Lou used to play bingo all the time here before she went into a nursing home. Anyway, when a person wins a large sum and needs to head home, especially at nighttime, there are hired security personnel to escort them there safely. I guess criminals must have preyed on winners in the past or something,” Belle explained.

“Why do the old people give the guards money? They don’t look very happy about it.” Camille had a clear view of the parking lot, but Belle was at a poor angle. “Don’t get up, Anabelle. You’re going to give us away.” Taking an amateur on this trip was a poor decision on her part, Camille realized. Her sister-in-law was horrible at subterfuge.

“How am I supposed to give you an answer if I can’t even see what’s going on, Camille?” Her sister-in-law demanded. “I bet the winners are giving the escort a tip for protecting them. Aunt Lou always gave them a few dollars as an added thank you. I doubt the security detail people make very much money. They are probably like waitresses, just hoping to pick up extra money in gratitude for their services.”

“The old bats do not look pleased to give up any of their winnings.” Camille felt irate. “The poor security guard just stood by the door with his hand out, waiting. I worked at a restaurant when I was in college. Nothing chapped my ass more than when someone stiffed me on a tip. Did you know the government collects taxes on tips? They do. People don’t appreciate workers in the service industry. It is disheartening. Oh, look, Jean is going back inside again.”

“Not that I’m not enjoying this little adventure, Camille, but it’s getting late. Don’t you have to go to work tomorrow? I know your brother is going to be full of questions about where we’ve been and what we’re doing. Ever since you dragged me to all those Voodoo shops and haunted history tours of the city, he has questioned the wisdom of us hanging out together.”

“Fine, fine. We can leave. I just wish I understood why Jean comes here every night.” At first, after they became lovers, she had tortured herself with visions of him prowling around for other women. She exposed her jugular to him as blatantly as she could, offering him all the nourishment he could possible need or want. While he did seem to enjoy nipping her neck, often sucking so hard he left small passion marks, he never broke the skin. Was she the wrong blood type? What a horrible thought? Did vampires have preferred blood types? She would need to research that topic later tonight.

Just after two in the morning, Jean let himself into Camille’s apartment. On school nights, he preferred to visit her at her own place. “It will be easier for you to get to work without having to cross the parking lot. I hate the thought of you being out, alone at night. There are lots of predators who enjoy targeting sweet, little brats like you,” he had told her. He would slip into her bed and start waking her in the most delightful ways.

She had yet to leave his arms unfulfilled. It shocked her. Not that her experience with sex was all that extensive, after a few nights of passion with her passionate vampire, she had doubled her sexual encounter involvement.

Of those prior experiences, she had only found release from her lover massaging her clit. It never occurred to her there was a more powerful, explosive, type of orgasm. Even when she was exhausted, Jean found a way to bring her to completion. It might take him longer, but he was dedicated to the task at hand… or mouth… or other body parts.

Tonight, he found her up and waiting for him. She wore only a smile when he walked quietly into her bedroom. Watching him strip away his clothes always did something to the pit of her stomach. Her vampire was lean, muscular and breathtaking to study.

Was she falling in love, or just overcome with lust? It did not matter to her right now. He had warned her his time in the city was limited. She refused to give up any second of what precious chance of love making they still had.

“I know you like to be in charge in the bedroom,” she told him in a husky voice.

“I am in charge, my beautiful, little brat. Always. It gets you off, don’t deny it.”

Even with his arrogant tone, he made her pulse quicken. “Hell… I mean, heck no, I would never think of pretending otherwise. But there are a few things we have not tried yet which you’ve never expressed an interest in, and I’m curious about how it would feel.” Talking so openly with another person should make her blush, but it felt so natural sharing her desires with Jean.

“If you are talking about me taking that fine ass with my…”

“No!” she practically jumped off the bed in protest of that line of thought. She was not ready to explore that avenue just yet. Maybe one day, much, much later. “You’ve used your mouth to… you know… make me explode. Maybe you might enjoy my attention on you.” Her eyes dropped to his crotch and she could have sworn it bobbed with excitement at her suggestion. Still, her vampire liked to be in charge in the bedroom. She deferred to his wishes in the matter.

Raising his hand to his chin, Jean seemed to be pondering her request. From what her friends had confided in Camille, most men begged for a woman to service them with their mouths. Her vampire was different from most, though. If only he allowed her to show him some of the passion he invoked in her, she would feel blessed. “Stand up, beautiful,” he ordered.

Camille slowly got out of the bed and waited for his next instruction. He crooked his finger to beckon her to come to him. “On your knees.” She went damp at his words, and did as he ordered. “Use your hands to cup me. I wouldn’t want you to bite off more than you can handle. What do you think, my little brat? Think you can fit me inside? Shall we see? Taste the tip. Go on, have a little sample.”

Her eyes locked on his as she darted her tongue out and across the tip of his cock. He tasted salty. Slowly she parted her lips and took the very tip inside. Her vampire rewarded her with a low groan. Lifting her hair in his palms, Jean allowed her to begin exploring him. It took her several minutes to work him in and out until she could take him deep in her mouth. Her breathing was shallow, but she seemed eager to please him.

Holding her head in place, he pulled out slowly, but kept the tip just inside. “Do you trust me, beautiful? Good girl. Relax your throat. Put your hands on my legs. In a moment, I am going to push myself inside until you will be worried you won’t be able to breathe. You’ll want to pull away, but trust me to know just how long I can stay there before pulling out. We’ll repeat this process, and I’ll stay a little longer each time. If it gets too intense, push hard on my legs. Think of it as your safe word. Your instincts are going to make you want to push me away. Try to fight them. You can grab me, pinch or scratch me if it helps you manage your panic, but if you push me away, I’ll know this is too much, too soon.”

Camille nodded her understanding slowly, trusting him completely, but still concerned she would disappoint him. “You are such a perfect little brat, Camille St. Pierre. Each time we are together, it gets harder and harder to think about letting you go. Are you ready to play, baby?”

Her head held stationary by his hands, Jean started pumping in and out of her mouth. “Use your lips to cover your teeth,” he ordered, as his thrust went deeper and deeper. The moment his cock touched the back of her throat, Camille felt herself go frantic. She tried to remain calm, her hands tightening around his legs. He pulled back slowly and she fought the urge to gasp. The ritual started all over again, but this time he remained deep inside her throat for longer. He pulled himself completely out, and she filled her lungs with oxygen, worried about the amount of spit dripping from her lips.

He bent down and kissed her slowly. “One more time, beautiful. I am so close to exploding right now. Be a good little girl and swallow for me. Can you do that? Make me proud, beautiful. Trust me, and after I come, I’ll use my mouth to please you afterward.

Instead of waiting for her to comment, he took her head in his hands and pulled her toward his cock. He stayed shallow at first, pumping in and out rapidly. Then she felt the muscles in his legs tense and knew he was close to completion. A feeling of pride filled her heart and helped her through the fear when he started pushing deeper and faster towards her throat. He buried himself as far as he could go and started to jerk with the force of his release. She felt the warm liquid collect in her throat as he kept himself buried inside until he was spent. Then he slowly withdrew and watched her reaction.

“That was the best head I have ever experienced, little brat. You made me very proud, beautiful, very proud indeed.”

Her vampire repaid her gift twofold. Carrying her to the bed, he gently laid her before him. His hot tongue teased her nub until she was tensing under the building pressure. Then one thick digit from his huge hand breached her channel, and he found her sweet spot. Before long, he was working the two pleasure zones in unison.

The force of her orgasm had her hoarse from screaming his name. Exhausted, she drifted off to a satisfied sleep. She only stirred slightly when Jean cleaned her with a warm washcloth. Then he dressed and returned to his own place before sunrise.


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