Chapter 6
6
G race being here tonight makes this crappy night much brighter. And infinitely worse.
Now that I know the source of the scent, I should’ve realized she was here. No one smells as good as Grace. Like the fresh-baked berry pie my grandma left to cool on the windowsill, sun shining down on it as I stole a taste when she was out of the room.
I thought I was so sneaky, never getting caught. Looking back, I’m certain Grandma knew. She’d make a dramatic show of wondering who could’ve taken a bite, and then give me a big hug and offer me a slice while I struggled with the urge to confess.
I feel the same way when I look at Grace. Like she knows all my secrets no matter how hard I try to hide them.
She also makes me want to devour her, letting her sweet, tart flavor drip down my chin like the berries I picked from my grandma’s garden.
I lick my lips, and am disappointed to only taste the stale copper of my blood from when my fangs wouldn’t retract. They’re threatening to emerge again now, even though I can’t smell her now that I’m not breathing.
Not needing oxygen to function comes in handy when I’m near Grace. I’ve trained myself to only suck in air through my mouth when I need to speak. I’m sure it’s off-putting, but letting the scent of her sweet blood wash over me would be much worse. I pride myself on self-control, but even I have my limits. A few minutes smelling her nearby would break me. Maybe less than that.
“Alright, where should we start?” Mona asks, clapping her hands together.
“The bar?” Grace asks, letting out a weak laugh. Her cheeks are still washed a light pink that matches her dress. The dress that makes her stand out like a beacon in the dark, moody club and draws my eyes to the soft curve of her belly that’s filled out since the last time I saw her. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
Gorgeous and unattainable.
Grace likes men. She’s made that abundantly clear. She might get a small thrill from being around me, but most humans do. I’m a vampire. I make people squirm, and whether or not that’s pleasurable, it doesn’t change their sexuality.
I’m not a glutton for punishment, and I don’t coerce people into sleeping with me. Thus, Grace is not for me.
“There’s no alcohol at The Vault,” I say. “Intoxication doesn’t mix well with consent. ”
“Ah. Right,” Grace says, nodding. A strand of golden hair falls in her face and my fingers twitch to reach out and brush it away.
“Are you looking to participate in anything tonight?” I ask, forcing my voice and expression to seem blasé.
Grace’s brows shoot up. “With you?”
Mona cackles at her reaction. “Hah! You sound like me the first time Bella brought me here.”
I didn’t think it would be possible, but Grace’s eyes go even wider and they flick back and forth between me and Mona. “Did you?! Are you telling me you two have… I thought there was a vibe, but you’re with Max.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Mona says, holding her hands up. “Bella and I haven’t slept together.”
I smirk at her. “Oh, there was definitely a vibe. But, no, I only tied her up.”
My buxom exhibitionist friend sputters, which makes me laugh. Mona and I share a mutual attraction, but we both know our interests aren’t compatible. I don’t fight for submission, and she craves the struggle.
“I feel like I’m the only person here that hasn’t been tied up by you.” Grace’s comment is flippant, but it immediately puts the image in my brain.
Mona’s eyes light up. “I’m sure she’d be happy to do something simple with you if you want to try it.”
My fangs press against my gums at the thought of Grace bound for me, rope weaving across her body to accentuate every dip and curve that I’m obsessed with. I tense, trying not to show how terrible of an idea that would be. I’m supposed to be her friend. A friend wouldn’t have any reason to not show a curious friend a basic tie .
“W-what? No… that would be…no!” Grace squeaks. She winces and gives me an apologetic smile. “No offense. I just…”
Grace’s words are a bucket of cold water dousing the flame of hunger inside me. Of course she doesn’t want that.
I nod. “It’s fine.”
It is. It’s better to keep my distance.
Mona laughs, unaware of the sting of rejection I’m enduring. “Oof, sorry! I keep forgetting that you’re not an exhibitionist. Or into any of this at all.”
“I wouldn’t say that I’m not into any of it… but yeah, not an exhibitionist. I tried it with the burlesque class student show and that was fun as a one time thing, but it did nothing for me. Maybe it’s from having too many people ogle my tits in regular settings for it to have much of an impact.” Grace laughs and places a hand above the swell of her breasts, drawing my eyes to the long line of her cleavage highlighted by the low neckline of her dress.
I look away quickly. She’s my friend. You don’t stare at your friend’s breasts.
Mona leads us to a pair of the couches in a corner of the main club area. A few people are swaying to the thudding, moody music, and more than one eye the three of us appreciatively. I don’t blame them. I know I’m attractive, and both Mona and Grace are stunning in their own right. I’ve ended up with two of the hottest, most unavailable women I’ve ever known as my friends. Maybe I’m more of a masochist than I think I am.
Mona sits on the far end of one of the couches, and Grace sits on the couch opposite of her, leaving it up to me to decide who to sit next to.
Great. If I sit next to Grace, I’ll have to continue holding my breath, and even then, at such close proximity, I’ll still catch her scent whenever I need to speak. But if I sit across from her, I’ll be looking directly at her. I’m not sure which one is worse right now.
Grace is busy scanning the club from her new vantage point, so she doesn’t register my hesitation. But Mona certainly does. She raises a brow at me, as if to say, “you good?” and then glances over at our blonde friend meaningfully.
I roll my eyes at Mona, pretending like she’s making something out of nothing and not far too good at reading me, and sit down next to her.
I let myself breathe, and fortunately only get a hint of Grace’s scent at this distance, with Mona’s campfire and roasted marshmallow scent overpowering it.
I’ve never told my best friend that the reason I first spoke to her—other than that she looked painfully uncomfortable at the burlesque class we met at and I felt bad for her—was because her scent reminded me of the one camping trip my parents let me go on with my friend’s family. It was the happiest and most relaxed day I’d had since my grandma passed away. And that’s even considering that my father showed up in a rage to pick me up early because my mother found black lipstick under the sink in my bathroom.
No one ever explained why certain people have distinct scents to me now that I’m a vampire. To be fair, nothing was explained, since I was abandoned immediately after my creation. My guess is that there’s something instinctual telling me that the person’s blood will be good or bad for me. Avoid the ones that smell like rotting fish, bite the ones that smell delicious. Most people don’t smell like much of anything to me, which is a relief. I wish that was the case for Grace.
“See anything you like?” Mona asks Grace, a hint of teasing in her voice.
Grace shrugs. “Honestly, it’s tamer than I thought it would be. Other than Blair’s demonstration, it doesn’t seem much different from a regular night club. Where’s the whips and chains, and the people on leashes?”
“Oh, they’re here,” Mona says with a laugh. “Probably in the private rooms. Are you disappointed?”
“A little!” Grace replies, letting out a fake sigh.
“About which part?” I ask, unable to hold back my curiosity. It’s a perfectly normal question to ask a friend who is at a kink club. I’m not being inappropriate. My brain isn’t imagining what Grace would look like with a collar around her delicate throat.
Grace’s smile immediately turns more shy. “Uh, I don’t know…”
Mona scoffs. “Yes, you do! Tell us! I’ve told you all my kinky secrets, so it’s only fair. Blair won’t judge. She’s a professional.”
I should tell Mona to back off. No one should be pressured into discussing their kinks if they don’t want to, and Grace has looked uncomfortable the entire time I’ve seen her tonight. But before I can intercede, Grace huffs and throws her hands up in defeat.
“Okay, fine! I’ll tell you. But you have to promise not to make fun of me.” Her cheeks are splotchy from the prospect of admitting things to us.
She looks like she’s about to tell us she has a diaper fetish. If she did, she could probably find someone here to explore that with. But that’s unlikely. Grace likes to act sexually liberated, but she’s coming out of a marriage with the first man she dated. If I had to guess, her idea of extreme is wanting someone to spank her and call her a good girl.
“I’ve heard everything. You don’t have to worry,” I say, keeping my tone even.
“I promise,” Mona adds, moving couches to sit next to Grace and give her a hand a reassuring squeeze .
“Well… I guess the best way to put it is that I want to belong to someone,” Grace says, almost too quiet to hear over the club music.
My senses sharpen with interest at her words. I force myself to not lean forward in my chair or show any reaction at all.
When she doesn’t say anything else, Mona pokes her in the side. “You can’t just leave it at that! Belong how?”
“I don’t know…” Grace looks down shyly, like she’s trying to think of the words.
She knows exactly what she wants. She just can’t get the words out.
I take pity on her. “Do you want a dominant that you submit to? Someone who gives commands and you follow them?”
“Y-yeah,” Grace says, nodding without looking back up at either of us. Her posture is still tense.
“Do you want to be a servant? Someone’s pet? A little girl for a daddy?” I prompt.
Her eyes finally raise from the floor. “I’m not sure.” This time, her uncertainty sounds genuine.
“That’s okay! You don’t have to know exactly what you want,” Mona says encouragingly. “Kink involves a lot of exploration and learning what you like and don’t like.”
“Yes, not everyone knows they want to be ravaged by their fake stalker right away,” I deadpan.
Mona lets out a huff of protest at the callout, but it makes Grace laugh and relax. “It’s all a moot point, anyway. I wouldn’t know how to find someone to do something like that with. You can’t just walk up to someone and ask them to dominate you. Or can you?”
If Grace were the one asking, it would work on me. “No.” My reply comes out more forcefully than intended.
“I’d start with ‘hello’ first,” Mona adds with a snort .
As if summoned by Mona’s words and Grace’s question, I sense someone approaching from behind me. My body tenses reflexively, ready to fight off any threats, but I force myself to stay facing toward my friends. No one here would try to harm us.
I search Grace and Mona’s faces for any reaction to the person behind me. Grace pushes a strand of silky blonde hair behind her ear and perks up. Mona plasters on the kind of pleasant smile you’d give to a stranger.
“Pardon me for interrupting, ladies. Just wanted to say hello to Bella and introduce myself.”
The voice is instantly familiar. Declan . The Vault’s most eligible daddy dom. Of course. Grace is sitting there in her soft, sweet dress, looking every bit the perfect baby girl.
Wonderful.
I turn around in my seat and give the handsome human towering over me a cool nod. “Declan. Didn’t realize you were here tonight. It’s good to see you.”
No, it fucking isn’t.
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against the man. Out of the other doms that frequent The Vault, he’s the one that I respect the most. But that was until he came over here, like a shark scenting blood in the water.
My inner monster begs me to use my powers. I could compel him to leave without breaking a sweat. My fingers ball into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palm until the sting brings me back to reality.
Grace isn’t mine. Declan is free to come introduce himself to her. She can do whatever she wants.
All of that logically makes sense, but it doesn’t keep me from feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut when Grace gives him a dazzling smile, leaning forward to let the neck of her dress dip even lower.
“Introduce me to your friends?” he asks, his lips twisting into a smile as he notices Grace’s reaction to him.
Friends. It’s a good reminder. I push down my jealousy and make introductions.