Naomi was surprised when she realized that Damian’s flat was in the middle of the Tenderloin, a rather seedy neighborhood in downtown San Francisco. But the moment he led her into the full-floor apartment, she was surprised in a positive way: the place was pure luxury, something she’d not expected from the outside. Clearly, even the Tenderloin was gentrifying.
“Do you own this flat?” she asked turning to Damian.
“No. My parents own the building. They live in the flat above.”
Surprised, she asked, “You don’t mind living so close to your parents?”
“We have a good relationship.” He came closer and put his hands on her waist. “But let’s talk about us.”
All of a sudden, Damian’s cell phone rang. He sighed and looked at the display. “That’s Patrick. I’d better take that.” He answered the call. “Yeah, what is it?” There was a short pause, then Damian put his hand over the phone, and said to her, “Make yourself at home, I’ll be just a minute.”
He walked toward the balcony and opened the sliding glass door, before stepping outside to continue his conversation with Patrick.
Naomi took the opportunity to let her eyes roam. The elevator they’d ridden up from the garage had opened directly into the flat. The living area was large and open, with a small balcony, a massive TV on one wall, an open-plan kitchen at one end of the room, and several doors to the left and the right of it, which she assumed led to the bedrooms and bathrooms. Since this was the only flat on this floor, she assumed that there were at least two or three bedrooms, and just as many bathrooms. Her own flat could fit three times into the space.
Damian was still out on the balcony, talking to Patrick. Naomi dropped her jacket and her handbag next to her overnight bag that Damian had carried up for her, and walked to the kitchen. She was thirsty, and a little nervous. Normally when a guy said that they needed to talk, it was bad news and involved a break-up. However, Damian had asked her to stay the night, and he’d told her at the party that he wanted to make love to her. So whatever he wanted to talk to her about was probably good. Nevertheless, she was nervous, because she had no clue what he wanted to talk to her about that he couldn’t have said earlier in the car.
Naomi opened the refrigerator and looked inside. It was surprisingly well-stocked for a bachelor: orange juice, cream, fresh fruits and vegetables, dips, cheeses, cold cuts, and white wine. She scanned the shelves for bottles of water, and finally found them on the lowest shelf. She pulled one out, and was about to close the fridge, when her eyes fell on two bottles of red liquid that were stashed in the back of the fridge, behind the water bottles. She’d seen those bottles before.
Her heart skipped a beat. The clear bottles were labeled in the same manner as the broken bottle she’d found under the dumpster behind the Mezzanine. There was only one difference. They said O+ bottled by Scanguards instead of A+ bottled by Scanguards. She dropped the plastic water bottle, and reached for the bottle with the red liquid. Were her eyes deceiving her? Was she hallucinating?
Her pulse drummed faster now. Damian had claimed that he’d never seen a bottle like this before. Yet there were two identical bottles in his refrigerator. She unscrewed the cap and sniffed the liquid. The metallic scent stung her nostrils, and she recoiled involuntarily. This was blood, no doubt. Human blood.
“Naomi, Patrick said—”
At the sound of Damian’s voice behind her she whirled around so fast that she tripped over the water bottle she’d dropped so carelessly on the floor, and stumbled. Damian reached for her to steady her, but the damage was done. Her hand jerked upward, and the contents of the open bottle spilled over her chest, splattering on her top and running down her cleavage. She was soaked in blood.
“Fuck!”
It was Damian who’d cursed, but it might as well have been her, because what she now saw, scared the living daylights out of her.
Damian’s eyes had lost all of their blue color and glowed red. And between his parted lips she saw sharp, brilliant-white fangs peek out. The same kind of fangs he’d worn at the Halloween party as part of his vampire costume. But she knew that he wasn’t wearing plastic fangs or colored lenses right now, just like he hadn’t worn any during the night at the Mezzanine. She realized that now, because there was nothing fake about either of them. This was Damian, the real Damian. The vampire. She knew that now. And it explained so much. In fact, it explained everything.
“You tricked me.” She pressed out the words, while her mind was working overtime. How would she get past him? How could she escape his flat now?
“Naomi, please, I was gonna tell you. Tonight.”
She backed away from him and felt the cool air from the open refrigerator blast at her back. “You’re a real vampire.”
“Technically I’m a hybrid, half vampire, half human.”
His voice sounded calm, but she wasn’t fooled. His fangs were extended, and she could see his nostrils flare and his gaze drop to her chest, to the blood that covered her. He wanted blood. She could see that. And something else was evident now too.
“It wasn’t just roleplaying last night, was it?”
He shook his head, and appeared to look guilty. How was that possible?
“I’m sorry, Naomi, I got carried away. I wanted you so badly, I couldn’t stop myself.”
That confirmed it. He’d bitten her. And judging by the look in his eyes, which were now shimmering golden rather than red, he was about to do it again. But she couldn’t allow that. Couldn’t let herself be at the mercy of a monster.
“Let me go, and I’ll never breathe a word of this,” she begged, knowing she had to do something to get away from him.
“I can’t do that, Naomi.”
He took a step toward her, and suddenly his fangs receded and looked like normal teeth again, as if she’d just imagined it.
“Please, let me go.”
“Naomi, I’m in love with you.”
The words shook her to her core. No, a vampire couldn’t love. A vampire was a bloodthirsty creature. Hell, vampires shouldn’t even exist.
“I’m sorry for biting you last night without your permission. I promise next time I’ll wait until you give me permission.”
“Next time?” She shook her head, panicked. “Why would I give you permission? Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No, but why do you think you climaxed so hard when we made love last night?”
She stared at him, her mouth going dry. What was he suggesting? That his bite had made her climax? No! That was ludicrous.
“A vampire’s bite heightens arousal in the vampire as well as the host.”
Naomi shook her head, not wanting to hear whatever else he had to say. “No!” Then she stared at the bottle she was still holding in her hand. “You lied to me even after I showed you the bottle I found. After I told you about the story I’m supposed to write. You kept deceiving me.”
“I was going to tell you tonight. That’s why I brought you here. So we could talk in private, and I could tell you what I am.”
“So I’d be alone with you, without anybody hearing me scream,” Naomi said, knowing she could never fight him. He was too strong. She was truly at his mercy.
To her surprise he chuckled.
“How’s that funny?” she snapped.
“Sorry, chérie, it’s just that you will scream, but not in pain or fear, but in ecstasy, because when we’re done here, you’ll want me to make love to you and to bite you while I’m inside you.”
The arrogance of his words made her slam the half-empty bottle on the shelf in the refrigerator door and brace her hands at her hips. “How dare you, you conceited, self-satisfied jerk, assume what I’m gonna do?”
When the words left her lips, she realized that she wasn’t afraid of him. She was pissed off with him. That realization hit her like a punch in the gut. At the same time, she remembered exactly how she’d felt when they’d had sex and he’d bitten her in the neck. She hadn’t felt any pain, and afterwards, there’d been no evidence of the bite. And she’d never felt so satisfied in her entire life.
Damian sighed. “Damn it, Naomi, how am I supposed to be able to think clearly, when you’re drenched in human blood, and all I can think of is licking it off you?” He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “This wasn’t how I was planning to have this conversation.”
“Well, that makes two of us, because I wasn’t planning on having this conversation at all,” she snapped.
“Take the damn top off, Naomi!”
“Make me!” The angry words were out, before she could take them back.
“Fine!”
Before she could even blink, Damian was ripping her top in two, and jerked it off her body. But that didn’t get rid of all the blood on her, because some of it had soaked her bra, and clung to her breasts.
“Fuck!” Damian cursed.
Their gazes collided, and in that instant, she knew that she’d never be able to resist him. She was doomed.
The next thing she felt was Damian dipping his head to her breasts. He licked her skin clean of the blood, and all she could do was stand there, paralyzed. Feeling his warm tongue on her skin as he licked her breasts through her bra, catapulted her back to earlier in the night when they’d had sex in her flat… when she’d sucked his cock. The cock of a vampire. Was she so depraved that even now she couldn’t find it in her to regret what she’d done? To regret that she’d enjoyed being with him?
“Damian,” she murmured, suddenly breathless. “We’ve gotta stop. We can’t just…” But the next words eluded her.
He finally lifted his head from her breasts, and she noticed blood on his lips. Fuck, why did she find that sight so erotic? She should be disgusted.
“Naomi, will you please give me a chance to explain everything? There’s so much I need to tell you. About me, my family, the way I live. Can you grant me that? I promise I won’t hurt you.” His eyes were blue now. And he looked entirely human again.
Slowly, she nodded. “All right. We’ll talk.” And afterwards? Once she knew everything, what would she do? She had no idea how she would react. Her head was spinning.
“Thank you.” He gestured to her bra. “Why don’t I give you a T-shirt so you’ll feel more comfortable?”