Craig Dede - Heart of Glass [Heart] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2

  This was the one time he wished his vampire senses were not heightened. Fuck, this was torture. His peers had to be insane to put themselves through this. This was the precise reason he kept his distance from mortals. The temptation was always too great, with his blood thirst too closely linked to his more primal lust. He had to be insane. He slowly sat down, watching her.

  The girl pouted, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. With the black feather duster in her right hand and her other making a small twirl in the air as if giving a signal, she slowly turned her back to him.

  The music started. It was a languid, hypnotic song he was only vaguely aware of.

  His cock was rigid at attention, and he was fully focused on the sexy virgin.

  She moved her hips slowly to the beat, her arms swinging at her sides. Then she bent forward, touching her hands to the black-tiled floor, before snaking her body up. The motion revealed her bare, delicious, and fresh cunt.

  “Holy shit,” Alex whispered, though to his ravenous senses it sounded more like a low growl of a predator. He moved his hands to the sides of the chair and dug his fingers into the hard plastic. His cock throbbed, his fangs stabbed down, and it was all he could do not to rip into her flesh. He swallowed when she turned around.

  She raised the feathered prop and moved it to his neck, brushing it with each sexy step she took toward him. When she reached him, she dropped the duster and moved her hands to the top of her outfit.

  Alex leaned into the back of the chair. The closer she came, the more powerful his urge to take her. To drink from her pulse at the smooth crook of her neck. To graze the pebbled tips of her nipples with his teeth. To fuck her raw pussy until she screamed his name. The image teased and danced to the lust-filled music in his mind. He gripped the chair harder, though not hard enough to break it. He had to maintain control. Had to. A tearing sound jolted him back to the moment, to her.

  With a single flip of her slim fingers, her outfit ripped open, revealing her orbed, olive breasts and clean-shaved pussy. She raised her index finger into her mouth and sucked it in one smooth motion. Then she moved it to her nipple, tweaking and hardening it in place.

  Alex bit down on his jaw––too hard––and he could taste his own metallic blood from his fangs piercing the inside of his bottom lip. Fucking torture.

  The girl swayed her softly rounded hips to the music while gently pushing her outfit off her shoulders. It dropped and pooled at her feet. Stepping out of it, she moved herself in between his parted thighs. She stood in front of him with nothing but six-inch black high heels and a scented body he was ready to kill for.

  “Oh, fuck.” Alex gasped through clenched teeth. He didn’t have to breathe, but he did it anyway. Calm. He needed to remain calm. His chest was tight. His mouth was dry. Hell, he had just had a glass of bank blood, but he had never felt more famished. His chest heaved. He needed to fuck her. To taste her. Needed to––God, it was getting harder. Everything was getting harder. His cock and his willpower. He shook his head, willing himself to remain in control.

  “Relax. Still your beast,” she whispered, in a voice which sounded as sweet as she smelled. She opened her legs slowly and lowered herself onto his lap. Her slender arms snaked around his neck, and she arched her body up, raising her appetizing tits a breath from his parted lips. She hovered her taunting pussy over his bursting cock.

  Alex froze in the warmth of her arms, the nearness of her nipples, and the stabbing ache of not being able to take her. God, how he wanted her.

  This was no girl, she was one hundred percent woman. Without thinking, he leaned forward, but she was too quick, and she pulled away with an adorable, dimpled, wicked smile.

  She came down and gently ground her naked pussy against his mercilessly covered cock.

  Alex growled. “Fuck.” It was all he could do not to rip his own pants off. He lifted his pelvis, thrusting up against her lush pussy lips, wishing he could lunge his cock and fangs into her instead.

  She was moving her hips in a circular motion and moaning softly.

  And he would have died instead. Death would be preferable to this. This was hell. Possibly the most painful experience he had ever had to endure in all the years of his eternal life. He had this woman, this stunning human virgin, right in front of him, and he could do nothing. Nothing. Fuck, he couldn’t bear it for a moment longer. He raised his hands to her arms, but she gently pushed them down.

  She raised her finger to her lips and smiled, shaking her head. Her eyes veered to the wall on her left.

  Alex followed her gaze to a matte silver sign. Printed in bloodred calligraphy, it served as an unwelcome reminder.

  No touching. By order of the Strigoi Council of Elders. He read the sign, groaned, then slowly nodded for her to continue.

  And God how she did.

  His wet-dream-come-true leaned forward, cupping her juicy breasts in her hands. She pushed her delectable nipples across his lips, offering him a banquet he could already taste but not indulge.

  He gritted his teeth. With each second it became harder not to grab her, fuck her, and drain her. He was drowning in her smell and dying in her spell. With each grind, his cock screamed for her. With each whiff of her devilish cunt, his soul yearned for her. He was only seconds away from the quickest, most potent, sexless, and bloodless orgasm he had ever experienced. In all his one hundred fifty years, he had never felt this.

  The moment before he came, she somehow knew and gently removed herself from his lap seconds before his cum dampened the front of his pants.

  Alex took another deep, quiet breath, in then out. Fucking hell. Was this place for real? Even with his dick drained, he was still starved for her. He licked his parched lips and shook his head. In the second between, he noted her hair shift slightly to the right. She was wearing a wig?

  He narrowed his gaze at the small tell, noting the flush of crimson across her cheeks and the downward gaze of her eyes.

  She bit her lip and quickly straightened the hairpiece with a slightly trembling hand.

  Alex tilted his head, watching the motion. Now he was dying to know what she concealed beneath the wig and makeup, and, much to his chagrin, why someone as breathtaking as her was stripping for vampires like him.

  The music was fading into its last chords, reminding him that his time in her glass booth was almost over. He swallowed before rising slowly, though he couldn’t look away from her exquisite face. Then he saw it.

  Despite her still-sexy, though less sincere, smile, he caught the fast flickers of emotion in her beguiling green eyes. They were emotions that no amount of cosmetic masking could hide. Emotions of sadness and regret.

  Chapter Two

  “Pull yourself together, Lia Swain. If I can pick up that you’re not fully into it, these vamps sure will.”

  Lia sighed, looking at Amber. Minutes after the thankfully decent––okay, maybe decent was an understatement––the great-looking guy had walked out, Amber had walked in. Lia said a silent prayer of thanks the other members in the club couldn’t see them while Amber was in her booth. If they could, they would see that, as always, after each private dance Lia was mortified and disgusted.

  Regardless of what any of the other girls said, she still couldn’t see the honor in cock teasing for money. “It’s your body, you have a right to do what you want with it,” they’d say. Yeah, but the right to do it certainly didn’t make it feel like it was the right thing to do. But, God help her, she had no freaking choice.

  Amber took a step forward and scooped Lia’s maid outfit off the black-tiled floor. She handed it to her, her other hand moving to straighten Lia’s bob-styled wig. “Sweetie, are you okay? You can tell me. If you don’t want to go on, I’ll understand. I’ll tell the stiffs you’re sick.”

  Shrugging, Lia took the too-tight, heinous dress and shoved her arms through the sleeves. She wrestled the sides together and pressed the Velcro strips, closing it. “I’m fine. I need this money. It’s just been a long
day. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I’m sorry, babe.” Amber’s baby blues crinkled. “Is your mom okay?”

  Lia finger combed her fake bangs down and picked up the black, ostrich-feathered duster. She dully fluffed the soft tufts. “As okay as she’ll ever be.” She shrugged. “Yesterday was Wednesday, aka chemo day. She didn’t take too well to it at all. This time was pretty bad.” She looked at Amber and already felt guilty for the overshare. “Pretty bad” meant her mother had thrown up, nonstop, for hours on end, before collapsing into an exhausted slumber.

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.” Amber pursed her lips, her heart-shaped face creased in a look of worry and pity.

  It was the exact look Lia had wanted to avoid. She knew it too well after seeing it splashed across the faces of almost everyone she either knew or thought she knew. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, promise. Just give me a second before you head out. Let me put my stupid mask on, I’ll make it a more convincing one.” By “mask,” she meant the insipid sexy face she was forced to wear. She rolled her neck and took a deep breath.

  “Well,” Amber said with a sigh, “hostessing is easier, you could always switch. I know dancing for some of these motherfuckers can get pretty rough. Though that last one, Alex Crawford, now he was a hot piece of chiseled blond ass.” Amber grinned wickedly and swayed her hips. “I wouldn’t mind paying him to dance for me.” She narrowed her eyes and jiggled her head, reminding Lia of a bobblehead. “Can you just imagine that tight, Armani-clad body of his,” Amber asked, “stripping down until he’s all naked, oiled, and sweaty? And his face, now that’s one gorgeous-looking man. I bet he’s huge.”

  Lia laughed despite herself. She couldn’t deny it. He was definitely the best-looking club member she’d seen since starting at The Glass House. Hell, he was the best-looking man she’d seen, ever. So, his name was Alex Crawford. She allowed his name to stretch across her mind, then shook her head as if to clear it.

  Nope, she wasn’t about to go there. Hot or not, he was like all the others before him, a paying vampire lecher. And beautiful men, like her ex––though Julian didn’t come close to this Alex Crawford––liked the company of beautiful women, lots of them.

  Lia shook her head. “Oh, Amber, you and your filthy mind. You should be dancing instead of me. Pity you’re no longer human. Trust me, babe, if we could swap, I would hostess in a minute. But only if I earned the same as I do dancing.”

  “Me, filthy mind?” Amber batted her glittered false lashes. “Nah, I’m just starving. My next lay will probably find cobwebs in my vagina. I hear you on the dancing, though. I think you’re earning more than the mayor at the rate you’re going.”

  Lia giggled, but it dropped the second Amber’s last comment registered. “Which is the only reason I’m doing it. Thanks again for getting me this job. I know I complain a lot, but it means the world to me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without it.” She bit her lower lip, knowing that she’d be mourning her mother’s death, that’s what.

  Amber shrugged her shoulders with a smile. “You’re a natural, kid. I just got you the booth, the rest is all you. It takes someone special to keep these vamps happy. Most of them have seen it all. You’ve got to give yourself some credit.” Amber sighed, and her eyes darkened into a stormy blue. “Lia, I know this job isn’t easy on your morals, but I have to say, I’ve never respected anyone more. It takes a lot of balls to put yourself in the eye of the storm every time you dance for these rabids.”

  Lia gave a small smile, though she was sure she didn’t deserve Amber’s acclaim. Amber made it sound as if she was some sort of brave soul entering the lion’s den. Would Amber still be as reverent if she knew how terrified she was every time the door slid open? How she prayed she’d live through every three minutes it took to dance and strip for sharp-fanged perverts? There was nothing esteem worthy about it. She did it for the money, and there was certainly nothing noble about that. “You give me too much credit. But, thanks anyway.” She shrugged.

  Amber nodded, then beamed with some realization that had obviously dawned on her. “Oh, before I forget.” Amber slapped her arm, too hard, and Lia winced. “Sorry, babe.” Amber quickly pulled her hand back. “Aforementioned Mr. Alex Crawford has a proposition for you. Are you listening?”

  Lia frowned in confusion. Not because she wasn’t used to being propositioned at least once a day by whichever undead mogul thought he had enough money to twist the rules, but because it was him. Alex Crawford was nothing short of built, blond, and beautiful. He didn’t need to pay anyone, human, virgin, or vampire. Not for blood or sex. “I don’t see why he’d have to fork out for any privilege, but whatever it is, count me out. Dancing is as far as I’m going. I refuse––”

  “Relax. Geez, you haven’t even heard what he has to offer. He might just have all kinds of delicious going on, how’d you know?”

  Lia laughed at the slip in Amber’s otherwise bland and society-trained accent. Offer ended up sounding like oawffer.

  “What?” Amber shook her head quickly with a shrug.

  “Nothing.” Lia smirked. “Do any of the elect know that you’re such a vowel-chewing Brooklynite?” She smiled.

  Amber snorted with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, a hundred years in the borough will do that to you, whatever. Anyway, as I was saying. All he wants to do is talk, for longer than one dance allows. Much longer.”

  Lia choked back surprise. Okay, that was new. All of the propositions she’d received had included sex, marriage, turning her, and even a one-time oawffer to be a personal sex-and-blood slave to a Middle Eastern prince. She didn’t have to think about it, though. “The answer is still no. We both know that talking is code for asking for more, and more, until I’m flat on my back and drained lifeless. Then where would you find such a fabulous BFF?” Lia fluttered her lashes with a mock smile. Whether said Alex Crawford was beautiful or not, she wasn’t about to go down that path.

  “Kiddo, from what he’s willing to pay, your cut will cover at least six rounds of chemo. And that’s just to talk. You’ll get half, and the club gets half. He wants to book you out for your entire shift. Think about it.”

  Lia didn’t have to. She shook her head. “No, no, and no.”

  Amber moved her hands to her jutted-out hips. “Seriously? A hot guy wants to pay you to talk, and you’re saying no? You’re dancing for money. You need money. He’s got money. Where’s the problem?” Amber was right, but still. Lia pursed her lips and crossed her arms with a sigh. “I don’t know.”

  Amber narrowed her eyes while shaking her head. “Lia Swain, you’re full of shit, you know that? I’ve got to go, ‘Big Brother’ is watching.” She nodded her head toward the overhead camera in the corner of the booth. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  With that Amber walked out.

  Frowning, Lia quickly took her place on her glass chair. Was he crazy? Was she? Put on your sexy face, Lia. She straightened up and forced a seductive smile onto her lips.

  Amber’s words echoed in her mind. Forgetting where she was, Lia gasped, and her eyes widened as it hit her. Six rounds of chemo? That meant he was offering close to two hundred thousand dollars. To talk through her shift? He was crazy. Half of the money would indeed pay for six rounds of IP and IV. She slowly stood up and swirled the duster in front of the camera, as if cleaning an invisible cobweb. Her code signal.

  “What?” Amber came bursting into the booth within seconds without a single huff of exertion. She idly examined her perfectly manicured nails. “Did Miss No-No-No change her mind? Well, Mr. Crawford is still here. He’s waiting for you right out there.” She hiked her thumb over her shoulder.

  Lia was only just catching her jolted breath at Amber’s blurred entrance. It never ceased to amaze her how fast vampires moved. Lia braced herself. She hadn’t actually decided whether she wanted to do it, but it was a lot of money. Money she sure as hell needed. “Just talk, right?”

  Amber nodded, and a w
ide-eyed smile quickly betrayed her faked look of nonchalance. “Oh, thank God. I’ll cancel the roofies. I thought I’d have to drug you to do it.” She rolled her eyes with a giggle before turning serious. “If it helps, he’s from a decent family. I knew his late biological father, Alexander Senior. They’re Originals, you know, pure blood lines.” At Lia’s look of confusion she continued. “It means they’re descended from the Original vampire. None of them were turned but born. The Crawfords are also wealthy and respected amongst the Strigoi.”

  “So?” Lia asked calmly, though she was intrigued by this new bit of information about a class of society she knew very little about. The Strigoi were secretive and not much was known about their members or even who the members were. A confidentiality agreement she had to sign on joining The Glass House had proved testament to that.

  “So,” Amber cut into her thoughts, “it’s probably dime change to him. So he’s one of those conversation-type guys, no harm in that, right? I think you’re lucky. The things some of these guys are into, you don’t even want to know.” She shook her head, tutting. “Look, if anything goes wrong, you know the routine.” She nodded, with a glance toward the ruby necklace around Lia’s neck.

  Lia bit her lip, moved her hand to the pendant, and rubbed across its cool surface. Thankfully she’d never had to use the “routine,” as Amber called it. But, she’d had to practice it, just in case one of the club’s members went nuts and tried to make her their personal blood-berry daiquiri.

  She shuddered thinking about it, but thoughts of her mother trumped her fear every single time. Her mother’s condition was deteriorating by the day, they said. The longer the gaps between treatment, the worse she was going to get. Finally, she nodded. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  Amber beamed, and she grasped Lia’s hand. “It’ll be okay, you’ll see. So, shall I let our esteemed member know that you’re ready for him?”