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"Toothbrush, clothes, pyjamas, travel case, blood bags...standard."

Vanessa laughed, latter sat next to the milk, needing to be kept chilled.

She didn't need to look inside bag, Vlad told her what he'd brought. She knew he'd bring food, this making her curious as to what her blood type was.

Inquiring as to where this may go, woman sat, closing eyes, let mind wander.

***

When she was younger, Vanessa would have said her type of man was tall, broad, sun-kissed skin, blue-eyed, steely, but had air of calmness, serenity, seas tranquil.

This was because she was told that was what she should want, female friends ordered her to date someone who looked like he'd just come straight from a GQ magazine shoot.

As she got older, she realised neither height nor weight, or the width of their arms mattered. What did, was personality. She wasn't attracted to her first boyfriend, in the beginning.

***

What struck her was his humour, very quick-witted, made everything fun, the world that little bit brighter. Over time, Vanessa fell, and she fell hard. She told him, crossing fingers behind her back, hoping, praying to the great David Bowie that he felt the same way.

When he said he did, she pounced, emotional, somewhat aggressive, dominant sex following, everything utterly brilliant. The sex after that was fantastic. He'd taught her about herself, thoroughly pleasing her until she needed him to make love to her, or fuck her, depending on their mood, her time of the month.

They'd split after five years, but remained friends.

They were friends before, friends during, friends after. The best way to handle a breakup, so long as it was amicable.

***

Her second, Grahame was gorgeous, but brain dead, complete dolt. So much so, Vanessa quickly realised he wanted to fuck his Mother, but knew he couldn't, due to that being illegal, and society would (rightly so) frown upon him.

Vanessa was not his Mother, she wasn't about to 'instinctively' start producing milk, letting him suckle whilst he ploughed her into oblivion. The sex was horrific. He finished, rolled over, fell asleep quicker than she could react, sitting up, wondering if she existed or not to him, anymore.

The very idea of that made her feel physically sick. That ended after three months, three fucking months.

***

In between boyfriends, Vanessa had a fling, man she kinda-sorta knew. He regularly came into the shop, getting cakes for his work colleagues, some times for his daughter, him and his wife were estranged.

Vanessa only found that out after he picked up batch of chocolate fondant fairy cakes, and had to put the box down, in order to answer his phone.

His wife screamed at him, screeched the shop down, man having (seemingly) married a banshee, man apologising, profusely, as red as a tomato, ending the call and leaving hastily.

He forgot the box, Vanessa hurrying after him. She put note on it, telling him that (to her) he came off as a wonderful Father, from what he'd told her.

He lit up when he spoke of her, Vanessa lacking maternal instincts, though, even she had to admit his daughter was adorable, and looked just like him.

She wanted to blow off some steam, offering coffee outing, not date, unwilling to further pressure man.

He agreed, woman slowly inching through his barriers, man letting her.

One night, he pulled her into darkened corner, gently, mind, which she (admittedly) swooned over, and began nibbling on her earlobe, woman eagerly agreeing, taxi ride to hers too long, body too hot, needing to shed clothes, keep some dignity, reign in horniness until after they got back.

They continued to sleep together, sex haphazard, but fun, whenever they needed it, it happened, naturally, without much work needing to be done.

They slot together nicely, but feelings didn't come into play. It fizzled out, sparkler dying, embers crackling coming to halt.

That was fine, they'd gotten out what they needed.

***

"Mind if I ask you something?"

"If you thought that, you wouldn't have asked."

"Okay, okay," Vanessa called, couch far from bathroom door, "since you're dead, does that mean your sperm is too?"

"Of course. You know that."

She shivered, making face.

"If we have sex? Excuse me if the idea of dead, bloody semen slipping out from between my legs is, perturbing me, somewhat."

"Then I'll wear a condom."

"Isn't it better without?"

"Yes, but I respect you, your opinion."

"You are dead, I have have been taking the pill for over fifteen years, like clockwork, trust me on that, there's no reason for you to use one. I have plenty of towels. I should, at LEAST try and save my sheets..."

"Why would it be bloody? Should I demonstrate?"

"I'm not complaining. Kitchen roll, please use that, so I don't have to scrub sperm out of my carpet, even if it is 'cheap, faux fur...'"

Vlad laughed, Vanessa making her way towards bath.

"How high up do you like the water, and how hot?"

"To my chest, and medium."

"I'll let you do that. There's a spare dressing gown in my closet."

Vanessa kissed him, light simper gracing features, puffing cheeks.

"You can go into my bedroom. You have permission to enter."

Vlad checked water's temperature, finding it scorching. He turned off hot tap, switching to cold.

***

"Singeing off your skin a past time of women?"

Vanessa snorted.

"Yes. We must warm our frigid, ice-bitch souls somehow."

"Try harder." Man went into bedroom, opening cupboards, one by one. "'Frigid, ice bitch,' isn't radiating from you strongly enough for me to believe that."

Opening drawers, woman 'caught' him in the act.

"Looking for toys? They do nothing for me. I use my hand."

"If something happens, I would like it if you told me what you enjoy."

"And the same goes for you."

Vlad stepped into bath, sighing, muscles relaxing instantly.

"If I demonstrate now, it'll go down the drain."

"Won't it stick to your leg? Its hilarious how sticky it actually is, especially when you think you cleaned it up, and then lie in it. It stuck to my back, slimy and rather disgusting. Why do we have sex, again? Its messy, potentially risky, loud, and the body can make rather, odd noises..."

***

Justina and Vanessa had one thing in common.

Gall. Not many stood up to Vlad, not without fearing his wrath, terrified he would kill them and their families, for speaking, if they said something he did not like. Justina challenged him, her knowledge of several subjects, her Father making sure she had excellent education, instead of forcing her to be married by twelve, having her first child at thirteen, if the labour didn't kill her...

***

She reasoned, refusing to argue, rewired him when he threatened to blow up. She helped him plot routes across Carpathians, find ways to infiltrate cities.

What she didn't know, eventually would learn, was how brutal he truly was.

With her, be became docile, teacher, mastering her form, mapping that to memory.

Away from her? He butchered entire villages, slaughtering children, first, making their parents watch. It didn't matter if they were innocent.

They followed the wrong leader, was all.

Looking back, how his wife could bear his existence in her life baffled man.

It confused him until he returned back to Poenari Castle, and he held her, feeling prominent bump under her gown.

That, his son changed everything.

Vlad vowed he would listen to the villagers, before deciding to lop off their heads.

Gaining followers was important, finding men capable of battle, to replace his fallen soldiers important task.

He could not accomplish this, if he massacred each, every one of them...

***

Vanessa?

Vanessa spoke with confidence, pushing her luck, man allowing it, as she entertained him.

Woman took his wrath, combating it with crudeness, vulgarity, hands making obscene gestures, mouth uttering filth.

And, damned if man wasn't base. She appealed to baser instinct, and was rather easy on the eye.

Vlad resisted urge, temptation to think of her as his wife. She merely looked like her, was all.

She uncrossed wires, giving him pliers when he wanted her be alone, do the job himself.

***

Lounging in tub, man took bar of soap out of travel case.

"I've noticed men use bar soap, women bottle."

"We need something we can get to grips with."

Vanessa coughed.

"Mere man shtick? Where did the 'barbarian-warlord' go?"

"You want me to spill blood and guts on the linoleum? Well, it is 'easy-clean.'"

"I am rather proficient at getting blood out of things. Women learn, we learn quickly."

"So, that would be a yes. After I'm done bathing, I shall endeavour to stalk the streets and find myself a victim. Man or woman?"

"Fuck off! You do that? Films massively embellish you. I mean, shit, I think you could see through clothing, at some point."

Fuck.

Vlad cursed, mostly in his head, rarely aloud.

***

Vanessa goaded him, she knew what she was doing, man wanting to get out of the bath, forgo drying, pick her up and screw her senseless.

She did not do things like this as often as he did. He could not rush her, bruising, marking her skin, damaging her body.

This needed to be thorough, courtship lengthy, exploration plenteous.

Vlad forced himself to be patient, it was a virtue.

If Vanessa wished to play game, throw him ball, vampire decided he would catch it.

After luxurious bath, wafts of honey pacifying him, for the time being.

***

"Do you know that the more cocks a woman has in her, the more of a whore she is?"

"That old adage should have died out, aeons ago."

Vanessa smirked.

"Whore times," she held up three fingers, "three."

Vlad bellowed, scotch sloshing in glasses, precariously close to its lip.

"And...what if that applied to you? Not you, in general, of course, Vlad number three."

Woman laughed, unabashed, man needing to hear glorious sound.

"A whore times a thousand."

"I'd say that's far too many, but that would involve me forgetting that you've lived many lives..."

***

Vlad agreed, strangely enough, woman perplexed, dark tresses falling over shoulder, man aching to weave hand through them.

***

"It is large number. However, I decided not to count after certain number. I made a, rather uneducated guess. It meant little, after a while."

"Just warmth of release, another body. It dies quickly, when it means little."

"You must understand, Vanessa..."

***

From the time he arrived, up until now, the way man spoke her name, mouthed the letters held woman in flux, adoring how he said it one minute, then questioning why she did.

She barely knew the man, but knew one thing.

She starved, food, alcohol, chocolate not cutting through need, expressly wanting, requiring something other than her own digits.

Finding herself wanting was rare.

Someone handsome was nice, but they had to have something between the ears, a personality of their own, some sort of sense of humour (preferably smutty.)

Vlad, whilst not 'conventionally' attractive held the other cards, and he showed to them to her, readily.

It was personality that drew her in, man's delightfully sinful humour fucking wonderful, and she could but imagine his tongue was just as wicked.

***


"...I would not, could not see you as any less of a captivating wonder, any less feminine, whatever the number."

"Oh, I don't know," woman mused, "you haven't seen me when I play Strip Poker. Drunk off my tits, my clothes practically fell off..."

"You're leaving an awful lot of the imagination."

"And you're unbearably chilly, dear Voivode."

Vlad clicked tongue, drumming fingers against glass.

"Should we play Strip Poker, with I, deliberately playing badly, stripping, and standing by the fire?"

Vanessa scoffed.

"Spoilsport. You've played such a dirty parlour game before? I'm starting to think you not so innocent..."

Vampire snorted, just about catching errant drips of amber liquor.

"That word hasn't ever been uttered in my presence."

"The General doth protest too much."

"Am I? Aren't I abhorrent? A 'creature of the night?' A stain upon the parchment of God, on which he writes his plans for us? Red ink bleeds through the pages, my doing."

"Well, I can certainly ascribe to the latter."

Vlad stood, abruptly, placing tumbler down on coaster, Vanessa appreciating that.

"How so?"

"I am a woman with an opinion."

Man laughed, dark, broad, rich sound, close to her.

That little bit closer, and she could kiss him.

***

He'd taste of whisky, right?

Not of someone's donation of plasma, they assumed would be saving someone's life, who'd been in a terrible accident?

In a way, it was. It was fuelling, running through the veins of a man, a vampire, the thing nightmares were made of, that many lusted over, fucked roughly by one, bitten, everything blurry, dying in the throws of passion.

***

She moved slowly, inching forward, nodding to Vlad. He breathed into his hands, deemed himself acceptable, lowered his head, and kissed a chuckling Vanessa.

***


When she stopped giggling like child who'd heard crude joke, Vanessa kissed back, man holding back, closed-mouth, woman understanding, given she'd accused him of having haemoglobin breath, clots between his teeth (Vlad tacked that on himself, practically hearing woman say it...)

***

"You're throwing bait, Miss Dawes. Need a fishing pole?"

"What's with your obsession with poles? Can I borrow a line?"

"So you can strangle me with it?"

Ah!

"These are kinks, aren't they?"

"And, if they are?"

Azures glimmered, cogs whirring behind them.

"Is this you, wanting to shove a pole up my arse? I hate anal." She went to point, accusatory, but it was clear it was in jest. "And don't think you're putting it anywhere else."

"Down your throat?"

Vanessa sat right on back down, stunned, shutting the fuck up immediately.

***

"That, wasn't the hole I was thinking of. I'll think on that? I'm too tight for it to be between my legs."

"Is there any other type of vagina?"

Vanessa finished drink, grimacing slightly.

"No. That's what they want you to think. Its a muscle, it contracts and releases. If it can handle pushing out a baby, and tightening not long after, it can handle penises just fine. Why do some insist that a penis will irreparably ruin a woman?"

Vlad sat back down, refilling glass.

"Ask modern men. They believe such bull. How can you possibly stand them?"

"Some do. And, with degree of caution."

***

"So," man mused, "you aren't a virgin. Good."

Rather odd time to change subject, (sort of change it) woman went along with it anyway.

"Virgins are dull. I wouldn't know what I'd do with one. I prefer experience."

"I concur. Rather practised hands than fumbling."

"The fire wouldn't do much. The radiators would be better. I'll turn them up."

Man tilted head, as if he hadn't a clue what she was talking about.

"I'd like to try something. Call it an experiment?"

"You want me to warm up?"

"I could have ordered you to get into my bed, and there's always my bath, but I thought those were tad bit forward, and impolite, given your status."

"I take it I won't be able to lounge in it?"

"I don't have the money for a fuck-off huge tub. For the love of Bowie, Vlad. I am not descended from royalty. I lack funds. Don't you think I'd love a huge bath?"

She headed into bedroom, fingers asking man to follow.

He did, but remained outside.

Respectful.

I like it.

***

Vanessa hid happiness in the low light of her room, fishing out several bottles of bubble bath, and bags of bath bombs.

Turning, she held them, precariously in arms, man raising brow.

"Use whatever you want. We have sweet scents, citrus and toothpaste-esque bath products. Take your pick."

"One at a time."

Vanessa dumped them on her bed, unable to think, process, use logic.

Moving around him, time slowing down, movement sluggish, Vlad looked at Vanessa, woman attempting to speak, tongue like jelly, mouth opening, merely accomplishing making her look like fish...

***

"If your bath were large enough to share..."

"You'd suggest us taking one together, save on water? Aw. Isn't that skinflint?"

"It is, if you're used to having all the water you could ever, possibly need. I did not, nor could I assume it was clean."

"I'm forgetting how old you are again. I'm sorry. You've scattered my brain cells like marbles, I am trying to locate them, and I know some have gone under the fucking bed, between grooves in the wooden boards..."

"Then I shall help you find them. I'd rather you have all your faculties, were something to occur. It would be wrong of me to try at this moment, taking advantage is something I will not do."

Vanessa regained footing, cheeks burning.

"Thank you. Shall I run you a bath?"

"Yes, please. I shall return to my hotel, bring some clean clothing, then return, if I may?"

"If you may stay? Yes."

She opened bathroom door.

"I'll wash your clothes for you. Please, leave them in there."

Woman pointed to wash basket.

"Hopefully, none of these make you hurl."

"At least I'll be in the bathroom."

"True."

Vlad's index finger caressed Vanessa'a jaw, purest, cloudless skies looking back at him.

"Nothing has to happen, Vanessa. I do not have an agenda."

"I know, and, we'll see..."

***

Kissing her, aiming for chastely, man had to swallow growl, keep that in his chest, Justina in front of him was not Justina.

She was Vanessa, Vanessa Dawes.

He had to remember that, keep slamming that into his head until it hurt to do anything other than lie down.

***

If Vanessa knew what was inside man's head, thoughts unbidden, would she entertain any of this?

The answer obvious, blaring in front of Vlad's eyes, he shielded them after leaving her home.

No.

No, she would not.

COMMENTS

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CaperucitaRoja
11:16 Apr 28 2020

Wow now I'm hooked and look forward to future reads

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POST COMMENT

Vanessa picked up tumbler of rum, savouring vanilla, quick hit of cinnamon swallowed up swiftly by toffee note.

"How come the poles you used end up going through people's shoulders, when they are inserted straight up?"

"The rib cage shifts, cracks, doesn't break, the bones move the pole steadily."

"So, you just sat there, watching people die, agonisingly slowly?"

"Sat, on my horse. Do you think I would stain my clothing with their blood?"

Woman was, understandably, disturbed.

"Vanessa," Vlad spoke, tone respectful, "do not ask questions you do not want the answers too."

"I wouldn't." Sapphire irises sharpened, blades against man's throat. "Honestly. Anyone would think I was a dolt."

"Dolt is as dim does. If I thought you an idiot, I wouldn't have entertained this."

"I know what you've done." Woman offered hand. "I also know that, if you wished me harm, I'd be dead," she clicked fingers, "just like that."

"True, and true. You ameliorate me, I cannot envision letting you stray into harm's way, let alone the perpetrator being myself."

Vlad continued.

"Considering my background doesn't exactly constitute as dating bio friendly?"

"Neither would mine, Vlad. Don't sweat it. Its pointless to stress over things like that, considering unless you are deemed 'perfect' you may as well have had a car run over your face."

Woman simpered.

"I know you're wondering if I think that. If I did," she moved forward, clinking glasses with man, "I'd have told you."

Man's azure irises sparkled, mischief glinting.

***

Woman waited, waited, and wondered if Vlad had drifted off into space, swirling, pretty galaxies shimmering around him.

"Hmm?"

That's when Vanessa noticed where his gaze was. It was on her neck, moving upward, then down, scanning upper half, sight holding cruel barb, woman seeing man as others had seen him, she was sure.

He wasn't friendly, neighbourly, homely. He hadn't made himself out to be any of those.

He was neither and none, man enigma, puzzle, pieces he, himself held, close to his chest.

If Vanessa wanted to be handed slice of his history, she would have to wait, learn to be patient, keep mitts to herself, prevent them and mind from prying.

***

"Do, go on. I find myself examining you."

"Want to know everything? Warts and all?"

Vlad nodded, woman downing the rest of her drink.

"Okay..."

***

"Five-eight, one-hundred-thirty-five pounds, not classy enough for wine, champagne makes me queasy and I'd much rather nurse a bottle of scotch. Size ten, thirty-four C, if you're wondering. Isn't much there, your imagination will have to fill in the cups..."

Vanessa started off, hoping Vlad followed.

"Will it now?"

Smirk man wore was formidable, form tensing, menacing.

"Five-seven, one-hundred and thirty pounds, I've drank, tried enough wine for several lifetimes, champagne is vanity, and I've procured several bottles of scotch. I shall leave your imagination to decide on what lies below my waist..."

Blues sharpened, woman snorting.

"Oh no! I'm taller and heavier than you!" Feigning worry, Vanessa's jaw worked. "Don't feel emasculated, please, I beg of you."

"My vanity, the level it is akin to does not care for emasculation. You are as you are, I am as I am. What gives me right to dominate you, simply because I am deemed the 'monopolising' gender? I am no better than you, simply by being male. A man can handle a woman as she is. A boy cannot."

"No, you aren't, nor am I more accomplished than you, because of the fact I'm a woman. I don't want us to fight. I'll get this out of the way now. I don't think you're a sex pest, because you're a man, nor are you horrendously sexist. I'd like to think I'm a modern woman, but many of my views aren't modern, not one bit. As for what's underneath your clothing? That's entirely up to you. I don't kiss and tell. I don't really kiss, to be honest..."

"Kissing is intimate."

"And, you'd have blood breath."

Vlad paused, gawking, jaw working.

"I have not heard that one, before...Do you realise the extent of your ability to mesmerise me?"

"Mesmerise? In what context? Mesmerism? Would I dare try that? No. Do I believe in that? Fuck no."

"Hypnotising me would certainly be a feat, indeed. I find certain charm, drawing me to you. So, in the sense of magnetism, then, yes."

"Should I be flattered? Half the time, I barely understand what you're on about, but I sit, and I nod, so, that makes me charming? Wasn't aware so little effort needed to be put in!"

Vlad stood, helping himself to more rum. He offered to fill Vanessa's glass, woman nodding.

"Relying off of beauty? Don't insult yourself, or me."

"Not used to being called that, is all. Its a word I associate with hidden meaning, intent."

"If you wanted to be on your back..."

Vlad breathed out syllables methodically.

"I would be."

"What about wooed?"

Vanessa gaped.

"Wooed? Are you trying to make me hurl?"

"And ruin the cheap faux fur rug beneath you?"

"We don't all have the money, gumption or stomach to hunt, kill, skin something and use that for decorative purposes, you know."

"I dislike furs, skins. Father's castle's halls, room were embellished with them, and several boar, stags heads."

Vanessa made face.

"I hate taxidermy. It looks wrong, creepy. The last time I was in a room full of it, I couldn't stop shivering."

"That could have been because the room was cold, and you have an intense hatred of frigid temperatures..."

"That, I do."

Man hadn't moved, he'd remained standing beside her chair. Vanessa (boldly) let her free hand make its way towards his.

"And you are freezing. What a shame..."

She tutted, Vlad moving her hand up to his face jolting her stomach.

"I warm up quickly."

He lowered head, Vanessa blinking rapidly.

"What did I say about being alone with a stranger?"

"Well, I did invite you in."

Man ceased nuzzling her jaw, moving away to snort, doing it in her face rude.

"And you aren't a total stranger. Would I have let you into my home, if I thought you were a maniac? I don't condone what you did in the past. You know that. By doing what I did, that means I trust the man you are now, today."

Vlad loosened grip, letting woman decide whether she wanted to let it drop to her side.

His head was at her neck, Vanessa biting lip, to keep from laughing.

***

"Can you smell my blood, or is it my perfume that's bewitching you?"

Vlad rolled blues.

"Blood smells exactly the same, doesn't matter the person, their blood type."

"Ah, the latter. I bought myself some perfume for Christmas. Cost a pretty penny, but as I said, nine-twelve hour shifts at work? I deserve a treat, every now and again. What can you smell?"

"Peaches, amber, hints of rose. Aren't you glad I do not have fangs?"

Vanessa snorted, masking it successfully.

"Even if you did, would you seize the opportunity, whilst my guard is down?"

"Only if you wish it."

"How would, did you feed? I imagine the process is rather messy."

"I procure blood packs from hospitals, as it is screened, therefore, I know it is safe to consume. I use scalpels, I get those from hospitals too."

"Would you like to try mine, some time?" Woman held up hands. "No pressure."

"Another time."

Vlad moved, gracefully back to his chair, readying scarf and jacket.

***

"Ought to make some dinner. I'd offer to make you some, but, well, you know. Can you eat food?"

"It makes me, rather violently unwell. Neither of us want, need to witness that."

"Mints, many mints. Before you, er, drink from me, or after you chunder, preferably in the toilet," Vanessa frowned, "please. If you can handle mints, I shall buy some."

Vlad, once he affixed his clothing turned, nodding, holding out hands.

"I shall avoid regurgitating anywhere other than the toilet. Anywhere else is simply uncouth."

He bent neck, woman's eyes lighting up, pulse visible in her neck.

"Before kissing, if that so happens, I shall endeavour to pick up some mints."

"Good. Blood doesn't smell great, and tastes likes pennies."

She took his hands, prominent bones knobbly.

"Tad bit concerned if I did get my hands on you, I'd break you, Halloween prop..."

"Muscles do not beget strength, they show it, yes, but does not automatically suggest someone is able. You will find me stalwart, able to endure. I've endured much, hardship the one, consistent in my lifetimes."

"Lifetimes?"

Vanessa felt awful, knowing what man before her had been through, the mires of shit he'd waded through, drenched in sweat.

But, determination lingered, he fought, crawled his way out, cleaned himself up and moved on.

Investigating pushed aside, woman felt esteem for Vlad. Honesty came close second to personal grooming, moustache impeccable, dressing in fine garments. He gave off regal, without pomp, without arrogance.

Confidence radiated from him, and not because he was a leader, general.

It shone from inside, spirit, giving him dazzling glow, one woman sought.

'As if he were lighthouse, and I were ship, in dangerous seas, with a treacherous crew...'

Woman held back titter, returning to present, wishing to say something, before man left.

***

"How about seduced, thoroughly and properly?"

"That, I can do. I shall invite you to my home, one day."

"Coffin under grand staircase?"

Vlad laughed.

"Would I fit in that? Single bed and all. I like my space, stretching, and heated blanket when nights get long, nippy. I miss company in bed, and I don't mean that in sexual sense. Someone to cuddle, chat inane nonsense, laugh, or merely lie there, contemplate, sleep. Hold on..."

"Its daylight, and yet, I'm awake?"

Vlad followed on her assumptive streak.

"Myths exist for a reason. They make me out to be everything I am not. I do not have powers, I cannot transform into mist and travel through walls, into the bedrooms of young, unsuspecting maidens, plunder them, drink my fill and leave them to be found, wilted flower in the morning."

"Oh no!" Aquamarine's widened. "I'm not your usual type? Should I plaster my face in white paint, dab some red paint on my lips and cheeks, use every poisonous substance known to man to 'pretty' myself up?"

"If we knew they would make people desperately ill, devour them from the inside out? No, Vanessa."

Vlad palmed her cheek, woman wanting fall under his spell, concerned how easily she acquiesced.

"You are striking, graceful, without needing to try, holding allure in the palm of your hand. I want nothing more than to bolster self-confidence, seeking nothing in return."

"Oh, you do. You're a rather engaging figure, yourself."

"Am I? Hook nose, scrawny, short, far from Adonis as one could get?"

"Is that what women have said? Fuck me...completely unacceptable. Why is it okay for women to judge men for how they look, but if men judge women, that is morally unacceptable?"

"I rest in a bed, I rather enjoy sunrises, being constricted isn't something I wish to experience again, I am short, for a man, and I've never been able to 'bulk up.'"

"You don't need to be anything other than who you are, Vlad. I ascribe to the way you think, see things. If something happens between the two of us, I'd be too in the moment care for anything other than making sure you're very happy."

"I would return that, tenfold."

The way he said that had goosebumps cover Vanessa's body.

"Good." She stood, shaking Vlad's hand. "When is your flight?"

"Tomorrow morning, six. I ought to be going. I shall keep in touch."

"Take care. Oh, and if you want to shag some gorgeous woman, I have one issue."

Vlad smirked.

"I would not, but, go on."

"Make sure they are clean. That's all I ask." She mused. "Is that what started the 'men should only sleep with virgins, as they wouldn't have contracted anything, yet' trope?"

"It is. I've been careful since the day I began having sex. I have standards, Vanessa. Rather, high. Not many women get over the bar, it hits them in the face when they try."

"Ouch."

"At least I'm truthful."

"And I value that. I won't have you lower the bar, for me. I'll need to go to the gym, if I want to vault over the bar. Fifty-fifty, at first?"

"Fifty-fifty."

Vlad agreed, heading to door.

"Let us put in the work, ponder where this will take us."

"Us? Presumptuous..." Vanessa pouted, tilting head. "Should I pine, cry myself to sleep?"

Vlad grinned.

"Yes...definitely not."

"I'll do something else, if you don't mind?"

Man shook head.

"I shall leave it to your imagination, as what that 'something else.'"

Vanessa winked, Vlad leaving, sucking in breath after shutting the door.

***

Woman was poking man, stoking vampire's flames, coals hot in chest, Vlad imagining her on the couch, naked, holding poker, lazy smile on face, plush scarlet lips beckoning.

Clothes stifled him, they stifled her, pupils giving it away. Vanessa wanted to explore, but disliked the idea, wondering if Vlad would think her easy, if she gave in to want.

He wouldn't think anything of the sort. She gave as good as she got, keeping him on toes, entertaining him.

Vlad headed outside, swift breeze chilling skin, throwing water over coals.

Swallowing conniption, vampire needed to return home, eat, and find sleep, that being feat, given he was restless.

He'd rather seek himself than rest...

COMMENTS

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Earthgrinder
22:08 Apr 27 2020

Like what you wrote.👍;-)

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