Chapter 19
19
G race’s blood sings to me, drawing me closer. The lure of her mouth is even stronger. Fuck, I want to touch her everywhere she’ll let me. Soft caresses and rough grasping. Pain, pleasure, teasing, and torture. I want to give her all of it.
My mind is so clouded with desire that I almost do it.
But I can’t. She’s riding the high of our first scene. No matter how insignificant she thought it was, it impacted her. When she comes down, she might regret asking for more right away. We’re not mistress and submissive right now—we’re Blair and Grace. I shouldn’t blur that line.
But god, I want to.
Her breath hitches as I lean in, and I linger for a few seconds, then pull back with a reluctant smile. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
Her eyelids are half-closed and her lips are still slightly parted, and I feel like an asshole for not giving her what she wants. Grace flushes as she realizes I’ve moved away, and her posture stiffens. “R-right. That’d be good. When will next time be?”
Her eagerness is adorable. “I have work most nights this week. Saturday is monster night at The Vault, and I haven’t been to the last few ones, so I was planning on going.”
Grace’s smile flickers. “Of course. You should definitely go. That’ll be fun.”
She absolutely doesn’t sound like she likes the idea. We agreed on exclusivity while I’m teaching her, outside what I do for work. Like I’d want to do this with anyone else in my free time, when I could be doing it with her. Is it wrong that her apparent jealousy feels good? I don’t want Grace to doubt me, but I like that she wants me for herself.
“I’d like for you to come with me,” I clarify.
“Oh!” She perks back up immediately. “Yeah. I’d love to if I’m allowed. Not sure how that works since I’m not a, uh, a monster.”
“You’re allowed. As long as you know about our existence and are accompanied by a monster member of the club, you’re good.”
Grace’s eyes sparkle with delight. “Whoa, cool! Does that mean I’ll get to see other kinds of monsters while we’re there?”
I chuckle, glad the thought seems to intrigue rather than frighten her. “Yes. Though I hope that most of the time you’ll be too preoccupied to gawk at them.”
“Right.” Her cheeks are as pink as her shirt now. I love it. Grace’s smile broadens. “I don’t know, depends on what kind of monsters are there. I’ve read some pretty hot minotaur smut. ”
I pretend to consider, bringing a hand to my chin. “There’s a minotaur that goes, but sadly for you, he’s taken. No beef for you.”
She giggles at my terrible joke and the bubbly sound makes me wonder if her blood tastes like champagne. I’d happily get drunk on it. Hell, I’m already intoxicated from listening to her.
“That’s alright. I’ve always been partial to vampires,” she says lightly.
“Is that so?” I do my best to not sound relieved, though the idea of her preferring someone else, someone less dangerous, has crossed my mind.
She grins mischievously, letting me know I’m in for a joke as terrible as the one I made. “Yeah. I love sparkly things! You do too, right, Bella?”
I groan. “You had to bring that up, didn’t you?”
Grace’s grin widens. “Uh, yeah. You’re a vampire and your kink name is Bella. I’d bet anything that you were obsessed with Twilight.”
“I have a dark sense of humor, in case you hadn’t realized that yet,” I say drolly.
Everyone who knows I’m a vampire and that I use Bella as my pseudonym asks the same thing. Each time I play it off as something ironic. Which it is, but it’s also a reminder to myself. I let myself get caught up in the romance of stories like Twilight, ignoring every single red flag for the sake of chasing the feeling of being unique and wanted. I don’t care what anyone says, looking back on it now, Edward was a predator beyond his vampiric nature. The power and age differential between him and Bella allowed him to prey on a teenage girl. He was a true monster, and while it was only a silly story, it helped groom me for mistreatment by an actual vampire .
“Hmm, I get the sense that there’s more going on there,” Grace says, not buying my answer. Am I that easy for her to read?
I sigh. “I’m Bella because I was obsessed with Twilight, and that obsession plus general lack of support and affection at the time made me end up how I am now. It’s a reminder not to let romantic fantasy cloud my judgment.”
Grace’s brow furrows. “Hold on. You weren’t, uh, turned into a vampire voluntarily?”
Right. I guess it’d make sense that she’d assume I chose this. A dark laugh escapes me. “Technically, you could argue I did. Though, I don’t think a person who has been groomed and misled their entire relationship can give real consent.”
“Oh god, Blair…” Grace reaches out and touches my hand, her eyes full of concern. I’ve spent so much time and energy rebuilding myself after I was turned that the intensity of her reaction takes me by surprise.
“It’s fine,” I say, shaking off her sympathy. “I’ve accepted what happened and what I am now.”
She frowns. “That doesn’t mean it was okay.”
I don’t like her feeling bad for me. I want to reach out and smooth the furrows forming on her brow. “I know that,” I sigh. “Trust me, I know. I’m past it.”
“Alright.” Grace says, sounding like she doesn’t quite believe me. She pulls her hand back and I want to grab it and hold on to it so I can stay connected to her. “Doesn’t seem to me like someone who has moved on would use a name that reminds her of her trauma,” she grumbles.
“You’re right.” Grace looks surprised that I admit that so freely. “What happened irreparably changed me. What I meant by moving past it is that my trauma doesn’t control me. It doesn’t define me.”
Grace nods, and I think that’s the end of that discussion, but her eyes drop to her hands in her lap and she speaks, much softer this time. “How did you get to that point? How did you figure out how to not let it define you?”
It’s not a hypothetical question. There’s worry and a tinge of shame behind it. “Is this about your ex-husband?” I ask.
She lets out a wry laugh. “No. I mean, I know I have a lot of baggage from that mess and it’ll take me a while to figure that out. I was thinking about my neck. I… It’s a struggle to accept that it’s never going to get better. I know it’s nowhere near as traumatic and life changing as what happened to you. I’m not saying it is. I just don’t want it to define me, like you said, and I haven’t been able to figure out how.”
The sadness and worry in Grace’s eyes makes me wish I had the answer. “I…”
Grace shakes her head, her expression morphing into a tight smile. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it like I expected you to know. I’ll figure it out. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s okay to not be fine,” I say, but it doesn’t seem to get past the guard she’s put back in place.
“Yeah. Well, with all that said, I still don’t know if Bella’s the right fit for you.”
“Really?” I ask, cocking an intrigued brow.
She’s back to her cheeky smile, any hint of vulnerability hidden away. “Yeah. You’re more of an éowyn.”
I give her a confused frown. “Who is that?”
Grace gasps in horror. “What?! Haven’t you seen Lord of the Rings?”
“Ah. I didn’t realize you were as much of a nerd as Mona is. My bad,” I deadpan, delighting in the scowl Grace gives me in response.
“Not ‘as much of a nerd’! I’ll have you know I’m the one who got her into LOTR. ”
“LOTR?” I ask, even though I can deduce what she means.
“That’s it, forget teaching me kink. We’re getting together and watching the movies instead. I seriously can’t believe that you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Grace throws her hands up in exasperation. “‘I am no man’?”
I give her a blank look. It sounds vaguely familiar, but I enjoy seeing her all worked up.
“Ugh, fine, stay Bella.” She crosses her arms across her chest, looking at me like my lack of Lord of the Rings knowledge is a personal affront.
I shrug. “I like being Bella.” Grace gives me a disbelieving look and I let out a sigh. “The world tells women that the most important and precious thing they can experience is the love and desire of a man. Bella embodies that mentality. So every time I use her name and take back my power, it helps me remember that’s bullshit.”
“Oh. Well, in that case, I guess it’s okay,” Grace says softly. “Still, you’re watching those movies with me.”
“Fine,” I say with an exaggerated sigh. That’s two things I’ve agreed to watch with Grace now. Soon my life will be consumed by spending time with her. The thought makes me far more happy than I’d like to admit. “But I’m still teaching you,” I add.
“Yes, Mistress,” Grace says coyly, looking at me through her eyelashes. “If you don’t have anywhere to go, we could start now.”
“I don’t have any other plans.” That’s not entirely true. I have client emails and texts to reply to, but that can wait. If Grace is asking me to stay longer, I’m not leaving. Especially since no small part of me feared that she’d be weirded out after our first scene and then avoid me for a while. Everything about tonight has been a pleasant surprise.
“Okay! Let me go change into something more comfortable.”
I raise a brow at Grace, and she flushes, then lets out something between a giggle and a snort. “Don’t worry, I don’t mean it that way. I’m gonna put on some pajama bottoms because these pants are cute, but uncomfortable.”
I try not to read too much into the fact that she wore them to look nice for me, appreciating the view of her ass in said cute pants as she heads out of the room to go get changed. While she’s gone, I pull a small insulated mug from my purse and take a few swigs. I need something to help me keep my composure, because after the scene, it’s much harder to resist the urge to pull Grace close and sink my teeth into her.
She’s back before I know it, settling in on the couch right next to me. Grace grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa and drapes over herself, then gives me a questioning look. “You want to share?”
I’m about to point out that I don’t need to worry about feeling cold because I’m dead, but stop myself and nod. She hands an edge of the blanket to me, scooting closer so there’s enough for both of us. Her thigh presses against mine, her body heat seeping into me. I’d hold my breath, but it’s no use. With Grace this close, her sweet, tart scent envelops me.
We watch the first thirty minutes of the movie, but I can’t focus on the fantasy world on the screen. Grace makes comments and glances over at me occasionally to see my reaction, and I do my best to appear interested. I’m sure the movie is fine, but the woman sitting next to me is much more compelling.
When I can’t take it anymore, I scoot away and pull my mug back out of my bag, bringing it up to my lips with a slight tremor in my hands. I drink the remaining contents, but it doesn’t do much to quench my thirst or calm my instinct to devour Grace.
She watches me wipe my mouth and put the mug back in my purse with keen attention. “You’re thirsty? Even after all that water?” Grace teases, but there’s a hint of a rasp in her voice .
“Yeah.” My voice is thick with restrained desire, and I clear my throat. “It’s draining to consume anything other than blood, though water usually isn’t too bad. If anything, it made me thirstier.”
Grace’s eyes fall to my mouth, and she swallows heavily. “Do you need more?”
She shouldn’t ask me that. It sounds too much like an offer. I always need more. In Grace’s case, I’m certain I could drain her dry and still want more of her. “Yeah,” I say quietly.
The hobbits and whoever else is with them are forgotten, a dull drone in the background that can’t hide the rapid beat of her heart. She extends her wrist toward me, and time slows.
Bite her.
Taste her.
Consume her.
I jump up from the couch, moving away from her outstretched hand like it’s a poisonous snake about to strike.
“Are you okay?” Grace asks, brow furrowing. “Did I do something wrong?
“No!” Shit. “I, uh, I remembered I have a meeting with a client tonight.” It’s a flimsy lie, but I have to get out of here while I’m still in control.
She doesn’t seem to question it, and the blood in my stomach roils unpleasantly from lying to her. “Oh crap, okay.” Grace turns off the video, and stands, walking me to the front door, where she gives me a shy smile. “Thanks again for tonight.”
“It was my pleasure,” I say, doing my best to keep my mouth as closed as possible so my fangs don’t show.
“See you on Saturday?” She says it like it’s a question and she’s worried I changed my mind.
I give a curt nod. “Yes. I’ll text you the details.” Her arms lift slightly, no doubt preparing to give me a hug. I dodge backward out the door gracelessly, and give her a wave and a tense smile. “Goodnight.”
Her smile flickers, but then it’s forced back in place. “Night!”
Fuck, I hate the way she’s looking at me, masking her confusion and disappointment. I can’t keep doing that to her. When I get home and my mind is clearer, I’ll do my best to explain. She’ll undoubtedly call our arrangement off, but my impulses tonight have shown me that’s clearly for the best.