It's in the Blood
"Are you ready to order yet, Madam?" I looked up from the menu, desperately trying to organize my thoughts. My mind had been miles away. "Oh - a steak and green salad will be fine, thanks." As the waiter walked away I caught myself eyeing him up. Not bad at all, I thought. A couple of months ago I would have been flirting with him outrageously. It was a pity that it just didn't interest me any more. After all, what was the point? I wasn't the sort of girl who enjoyed one night stands, and the kind of men I seemed to meet recently didn't seem to be interested in anything else. Was it me, I wondered? Maybe they misinterpreted my friendly overtures for something more basic? Perhaps I should change my attitude, and not be so open to men's advances? On the other hand ... why the hell should I? Just because I smiled at a bloke it shouldn't mean an open invitation into my knickers, should it? I sighed. It wasn't my fault that I enjoyed men's company, just unfortunate that the men I attracted all seemed to have one track minds. And that track headed straight for the bedroom. The waiter returned with my order. As he placed the plate in front of me I was aware of his gaze travelling over my body. Knowing that it wouldn't take much effort on my part to encourage his interest I forced myself to look away. Mumbling a polite 'thank you' I picked up my knife and fork and started on my meal. Taking the hint, the waiter left my table. For an instant I found myself regretting my decision to ignore him. For all I knew I had just rejected 'Mr. Right.' He looked a nice enough guy, and who knows? He might just have fancied a bit of female companionship, and thoughts of a steamy night of passion in my bed had never entered his head. "Yeah, right," I thought. "And pigs might fly!" No, I had been right. It was time to start playing it cool. Let men work a bit for my attentions. It might end up the same way in the end, but at least I'd have a few dates and a bit of fun to show for it, and not just a couple of drinks and a meaningless fumble in the dark. Welcome to Miss Unobtainable, boys, I smiled. "Excuse me. Would it be imposing to ask if I could share your table? It's pretty crowded in here tonight." I looked up, and my stomach summersaulted. The man standing opposite me looked as if he'd just stepped out of the covers of Cosmopolitan. Long dark hair, pulled back in a ponytail, dark brown eyes that felt as if they were looking straight through me, and a smile that started my heart thumping in my chest. Over six foot, he looked lean and muscular, and for a split second I found myself wondering what he would look like out of his designer jeans and expensive T-shirt. With an effort I smothered the automatic smile that sprang to my lips. Oh, way to go, girl! You've just made the decision to play hard to get and the most gorgeous man you've ever met walks into your life. Thank you Fate. That's one hell of a mean trick to play on me. He was waiting for an answer, and, seeing that all the other tables were indeed full, I had no alternative other than to nod. As he sat down I scrutinized him through half closed eyelids, trying to gauge his expression. Was this just a matter of convenience or did he have an alternative motive in his choice of seat? His face gave nothing away. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was still smiling and it was impossible to resist the urge to smile back. It was only polite, after all. "So, I haven't seen you in here before, have I?" His voice was dark and melodious with deep timbres that made me shiver. This wasn't fair! Here was my perfect man, at least physically, and I was planning on playing hard to get. I was sorely tempted to forget my resolution, but if there was one part of me that was stronger than my love for men it was my stubbornness. When I made a decision I stuck to it, and to hell with the consequences. If he was interested in me he had a job on his hands. "No, it's the first time I've been in here." "I thought so. I'm in here most nights." "Oh?" I said politely. It seemed he wasn't hard up, either The prices were a lot higher here than in the places I usually ate, and I'd no idea what had made me come in there in the first place, but I'd already made the decision that I wouldn't be coming back. Though now I was having my doubts. If this man was a regular customer then I could very well see myself returning. Playing hard to get was one thing, making myself completely unavailable was another thing altogether. "Not that I have much choice. I own the place!" "You do?" So - not just 'not hard up' - but rich. Oh God, this was so unfair! "For my sins. Enjoying your meal?" "Oh, yes, yes it's very good." "I'm pleased to hear that. So - what do you do for a living?" "I'm a nurse, but I'm working at the local blood bank at the moment." "Ah, interesting work?" "Not bad. You get some amusing things happen sometimes. Grown men who faint at the sight of a needle, for example. And most people are interested in a chat. So - yes - it's a good job." I realized that I was babbling and snapped my mouth shut. Play it cool, girl. I thought, and grinned inwardly. Cool was really not my scene. "Just about perfect, in fact." Puzzled I looked at him, but he didn't seem to realize the oddity of his words. "My name's Richard, by the way. And yours is?" "Josie." "Well, pleased to meet you, Josie." "And I'm pleased to meet you, too," - but no way I'm going to let you know how pleased, I thought. The waiter brought Richard's meal and we sat in silence and ate. Half way through I looked up and caught him staring at me. There was a strange expression in his eyes that I couldn't quite fathom. It was pretty obvious that he liked what he was looking at, but there was more than just admiration in his eyes. There was something dangerous. Something hypnotic. Something... well... I could think of no other word than ravenous. I blinked. It was the first hint I had that this man was different. And it excited me. I realized it was going to be harder than I thought to stick to my guns. I felt my resolution slipping as I watched his strong hands deftly manipulating the cutlery. Against all my better judgement I couldn't help wondering how those hands would feel on my body. For the first time in my life the prospects of a one night stand didn't horrify me. I wanted this man. And what it more - I wanted him now. His eyes were still on mine, and it was as if he were reading my thoughts. Putting down his knife and fork he pushed his plate aside and reached out his hand. As his fingers gently caressed my face a jolt of electricity shot through my body. I gasped. Taking my hand he pulled me out of my seat. It was impossible to resist. I felt as if I were in a trance. It was the strangest feeling - watching myself move across the room and out of the bar, and having no control over my movements. Whatever this man had done to me I realized I was completely in his power. A large black sports car stood outside, and, handing me into the passenger seat, he got behind the wheel and we drove off. I wanted to speak, to protest, to say that I wasn't that kind of girl, but no sounds passed my lips. It was as if he had cast a spell on me. It was only later that I realized exactly how true that was. Twenty minutes later we drew up outside a large, old house in the suburbs of London. During the journey neither of us had spoken a word, I being incapable of doing so, he obviously not seeing the need, his control over me now absolute. He opened the door and I followed him inside. We climbed the stairs and entered a spacious bedroom, furnished with antiques, the most impressive of which being a large four poster bed in the centre of the room. He led me towards it and said, "Take off your clothes." I watched, dreamlike, as my fingers unbuttoned my blouse, unzipped my skirt and removed my panties and bra. Standing naked before him I hung my head in shame. Yet beneath my mortification was a burning desire. Whatever the circumstances, I wanted this man more than I had ever wanted anything in my life before. "Lay on the bed." I did as he bid and watched him discard his own clothes to reveal a body even more perfect than I had imagined. His skin was white and alabaster smooth, without a single blemish. He took his place beside me on the bed, and his hands covered my breasts. Molten fire swept through my veins as his mouth descended onto mine. Nothing else mattered except the fierce passion he was spawning in my body. My hands clasped his shoulders as his lips found one of my nipples, sucking it gently into his mouth, playing it with his tongue. His hand was occupied with my other nipple, rolling it softly between thumb and forefinger. Flaming sparks of lust flashed through me. But that was only the beginning. His other hand slipped down between my legs, his fingers exploring the moistness of my arousal. Sliding one, then two fingers inside me, he moved them slowly in and out until he found a secret spot so sensitive that I froze in exquisite expectation. Simultaneously his thumb massaged my clit and I felt my climax building in my belly. And then he was inside me. His strokes fierce and unrelenting. Tormented desire and anguished hunger tore through our bodies as we were joined in eternal lust. Hot seed spurted into my womb as I climaxed, and a searing pain tore at my neck. The last sight I saw before I fainted was a triumphant smile on lips coated with my blood.
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