Immortal Beloved: chapter nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Waking up beside Vicki the next night, after knowing the passionate, all consuming sex they’d shared - twice-was certainly the best thing Henry had ever woken up to.
Damn but he was starting to get downright sappy and poetic. I need to paint her, he thought. Sure he had dozens of drawings of her, but he wanted to paint her naked lithe body on his black satin sheets. Maybe he could sprinkle rose petals around her and then after, make love to her. His mind drifted. Perhaps that was something else he could paint.
“You’re smiling in your sleep.”
He chuckled, “Wasn’t sleeping.”
“I figured that,” she teased, “What were you thinking about?”
“You,” he answered, popping his eyes open and gazing at her. Her hair was slightly mussed from sleep, her eyes still hazed with sleep - and he wanted her again. Reaching out, he pulled her closer to him and kissed her soundly.
“Why are you thinking about me when I’m right here?” she asked him when his lips started down across her jaw.
“You’re always the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last thing I think of when I go to sleep.” He looked up at her then and found her jaw slightly hanging open, her eyes wide in amazement. He grinned. “Didn’t know that did you?”
She shook her head and he swore he heard her gulp. “Well, now you do,” he said and pecked the tip of her nose, sliding his hand down to the back of her thigh and urging her even closer.
“Henry,” she murmured, her head falling back slightly as Henry nuzzled her neck.
“Hmmm?”
“I-I think I-I,” she stuttered.
Henry grinned against her neck; he loved having that affect on her. “You think what?” he whispered huskily, praying the next words were going to be something along the lines of ‘I love you’.
“I--I want to go out,” she said in a rush.
Henry froze and looked up at her, “What?”
She gulped again and reared back a little, she looked just as surprised as he felt at her request. “I want to go out,” she repeated. “Hunt.”
Henry smirked, “You want to hunt? Like last night?”
She pursed her lips together as if in thought, “No, I want to go to a club.”
Now he was even more bewildered, “Vicki, you hate clubs.”
She shrugged. “Easy food I figure, right? Isn’t that why you go?”
It wasn’t the only reason he went, but considering how precarious their relationship was at the moment, he didn’t think it’d be a good idea to go there. “Vicki…where is this coming from?”
“What do you mean?”
“Last night, now…I thought you didn’t want to eat from a human?”
She bit her lip, “Can’t knock it if I don’t try it, right?”
Henry stared at her, trying to read her and not having much success. When Vicki Nelson wanted to avoid something, she didn’t budge from that task and Henry had the distinct feeling she was definitely avoiding something. Him? Their relationship? What was it she was running from? “Okay, Vicki,” he finally said on a sigh.
“If you don’t want to go I could just--”
His eyes narrowed, “No. I’m going.” He was going to be with her every step of the way.
“Okay,” she chirped and climbed quickly out of bed. Not even bothering to look back at him she called, “I’m taking a shower!” over her shoulder and disappeared in the bathroom.
“If I wasn’t already dead, she would be the death of me,” Henry muttered and plopped back in the bed, his plan of leisurely sex banished.
********
Vicki decided as she and Henry made their way into the noisy club that she really needed to stop opening her big fat mouth and running from the issues she didn’t want to deal with.
Well, it sounded good in theory anyway.
The fact of the matter was those quiet moments when it was just them, when Henry was so attentive and had that look of silently begging her to give him -
She could deal with sex, sort of, she could deal with him wanting to teach her things, but anything other than that, like say, feelings, and she just couldn’t handle it. It became too much and she felt suffocated, which was crazy considering Henry was the only one that gave her freedom. He never judged her, he just let her be. Unlike Mike. And Mike currently thought of her as a monster.
The sting of that was still fresh.
Suffice it to say, she felt as though everything was still in a tailspin. And now she’d gone and had sex with Henry, twice, and he’d admitted he loved her and that look he gave her, that longing look - it killed her. Her whole world felt upside down and instead of trying to find a way to get it back on track, as she had been trying to do, she had somehow mucked it up more by sleeping with Henry.
But damn if she could stop herself. The man was heavenly and she rued the fact that she never gave into him in life - despite how much she wanted to.
Yep, she was a walking contradiction on everything. If Henry was smart, he’d walk away. However, the way he was holding firm on her hand, he didn’t seem so inclined to do that.
It was sort of strange, well okay, really strange. Henry always gave the air of independence and freedom. He was the 2000’s version of free love. He ate and had sex with random women when the mood struck and she was always the one that had been left wanting. Now he was staking his claim on her in no uncertain terms, and she was pulling away, leaving him wanting.
Though, if she were honest, she’d always pulled away. Vicki knew she was always a little malfunctioned in the feelings and allowing people to get close department, and now, well now she felt completely shut down. Which was ironic considering just how close she and Henry had gotten the night before.
Just sex, that’s what it was, she told herself and pulled her hand out of Henry’s. He looked over at her, startled.
“Can’t do this if they think we’re together,” she pointed out. She planned to be as far away from him as possible when he went about his own hunting. She didn’t need to see him with those floozies, and yet part of her felt as though she needed to just to drive the point home that this was not love, this was…okay, well, she wasn’t sure how exactly to define it. Shaking her head at herself, she started for the bar. Henry clamped a hand on her arm and pulled her back to his side.
“Vicki, maybe tonight we should stick together.”
“So you can help me feed? I don’t think so. I can do this Henry.” If for no other reason than I am bound and determined to do it to prove at least to myself that I can. Can’t be a wuss about it forever, can I?
“Vicki…” he started on that sigh that meant she was frustrating him.
“Have fun. I’ll call you for you if I need you,” she told him and once again started off.
She needed a drink, and not of blood. Hard liquor, liquid courage. She didn’t know if she could actually get drunk, but there was no reason not to try.
Twenty minutes later, and five shots of tequila later, Vicki was feeling more than just a little relaxed. Vampires can get tipsy after all. The thought shook her, not because she was able to get drunk, but because that was the first time she’d referred to herself as a vampire. Sometimes she forgot - even when she was drinking blood or out hunting. Yes, sometimes, she blessedly forgot.
Another shot later, and Vicki’s gaze wandered toward the dance floor. The writhing bodies, the sweet scent of perfume and cologne, sweat, masculinity, femininity and blood.
The music throbbing through the speakers pulsed through her. Vicki had never prided herself on being much of a dancer, but with blood on her mind and liquor in her body, she felt as though anything were possible.
Stalking toward the dance floor as if it held a magnetic pull, Vicki watched the writhing bodies dancing so seductively and decided she wanted to be one of them.
Stepping into the foray, Vicki shut her eyes and let the music be her guide. She felt warm, the heat of the bodies around her making her now cool skin heat up. With her hands splayed over her head, her hips moving from side to side.
“Mind if I join you?”
Lazily, Vicki opened her eyes and found herself staring up at a young buck. He was tall, had fairly muscular build, sandy blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Most importantly, she could see the vein on the side of his neck pumping with blood.
He’d do.
She smiled up at him; “Sure,” she purred and yet couldn’t stop herself from gasping when he placed his large hands on her hips. Vicki was not used to being manhandled and she had to tamp down the sudden urge to shove him away from her.
This is all about food. Besides, Henry’s probably off fucking some tramp in a dark hallway somewhere while he eats. Well, if he can play with his food, then I can play with mine, right?
So, instead of pushing him away, Vicki moved even closer to him and smiled saucily up at him.
Henry glared across the room at the spectacle he saw in the form of one Vicki Nelson and some overgrown Neanderthal. That boy dared put his hands on his Vicki. More than that, Vicki had allowed it! How many times had he gotten the proverbial slap for so much as an innuendo? And where in the hell had she learned to move like that? She’d been holding out - as per usual.
He growled low in his throat when the beefcake slid his hands down her waist and over her thighs. And he nearly lunged forward when the idiot slid his hands over her ass. She’s hunting, he kept telling himself. This is what you do, a voice in his head reminded him. You’re the only vampire she knows, this is what she’s learned. He didn’t have to like it though.
When he witnessed Vicki lean up into the jackass and whisper something in his ear, Henry decided he’d had enough. She was going to bag it and that was that. He watched her start to lead the guy off the dance floor and Henry bolted from his hiding spot and went after her.
In two seconds flat he was before her, his eyes black, his fangs in place. She looked at him, surprised, and opened her mouth to speak. He beat her to the chase and glared at the guy she was holding hands with. Tugging her hand free from the guy’s grasp, he growled to him, “Leave here.”
Stupidly, the guy nodded and retreated, mumbling to himself and shaking his head. Most likely shaking the image of a vampire standing before him.
“What the hell are you doing?” Vicki demanded.
Growling, Henry dragged her off to the empty and dark hallway that she’d been taking the Neanderthal to.
“Henry--”
Hauling her into a dark corner, he pushed her against the wall and bore his eyes into hers. “You’re mine.”
“I am not--”
His lips crashed to hers, cutting her off. It was wrong to do it this way, Henry knew it, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. Jealousy, he realized, was something he most certainly did feel, and had felt all along toward Mike Celluci - and that damn incubus too. And now, now that he’d made her, been inside her, shared his bed with her - there was no way in hell he was going to let some punk touch her like that. Even it was for food - and even if he was guilty of the same. Things were changing, changing for the better if you asked him, and yet things were also becoming increasingly complicated as well.
Slipping his hands under her top, Henry lost all thought at the feel of her skin under his hands. This was what endless months did to his restraint. It made him lose all rational thought.
Before he knew what was happening however, it was his back against the wall and he found himself looking at a determined and slightly angry Vicki. Her eyes were black and she was boring holes in his head with her intense stare. “I am not yours,” she told him. “I’m not anyone’s.” And then she kissed him.
Henry couldn’t catch up to what was happening and why or how. All he could do was ride the wave, afraid to question it, afraid to put a stop to her display of passion. If he stopped her would she ever begin again?
Henry’s eyes widened and his head thud against the back of the wall he was pressed into when her clever little hands made quick work of the fastenings on his pants and her hand had grasped his member, stroking him.
“Vicki,” he said, strangled, and he wasn’t sure if it was a plea to stop or continue.
Her now blue eyes met his, “Yes?” she asked, smirking.
“What are you doing to me?” he whispered.
“What does it feel like I’m doing?”
Before he could open his mouth to speak, she was taking him in her mouth. Henry saw stars, that was the only way to describe it. Her mouth was warm, surprisingly, and he found he like it-no loved it. His hands tangled themselves in her silky hair and when her blunt teeth scraped lightly over the head of his cock, Henry bucked his hips, causing himself to push further down her throat. She pushed at his thighs, retracting his member from her mouth and looked up at him. “I’m in control,” she told him and stood, staring at him while she stroked him with her hand.
“Vicki,” he moaned, and leaned forward to kiss her. She moved her head away.
“No touching,” she ordered.
“Christ, Vicki,” he muttered, lost in the sensation of her hand stroking him and his raging need to touch her, kiss her - anything.
“You change me, you try to teach me, but you don’t want me to really learn, do you?” she asked him, almost conversationally. “You want me to rely on you. Why should you get all the fun? You got to play before, why can’t I play now?”
“Vicki,” he gasped out, “He was touching you--”
“You’ve fucked your dinner before,” she said and shrugged, squeezing his cock.
He was about to cum; he could feel it, just one more stroke-
She stopped abruptly and he stared at her, waiting.
Slowly, she stepped back and looked him up and down. “I decide what I need and what I want. Not you.” Looking at his rock hard member she smirked. “I’m in control.”
She was gone before Henry could get a word out.