Chapter 44
44
6 months later
“ B abe, do you know where I put the ice?” Grace yells, peeking her head into the kitchen from the door out to the garage. Her hair is still shoved up on the top of her head in a messy bun, and her eyes are wide with panic.
“It’s in the cooler, out on the patio,” I reply evenly, going back to arranging cookies on a tray.
Her face twists into a frown. “Wait, what? Did you put it out there?”
“Should I not have?” I ask, confused by her strong reaction. “You were busy finishing up with the decorations and people are going arrive soon, so I figured I’d lend a hand.”
“Blair!” Grace exclaims, stepping into the kitchen and shutting the door behind her with a bit too much force. “It’s still light out! What the hell were you thinking?”
I fight against the smile forming on my lips as I set down the last frosted, dick-shaped cookie and brush my hands off on the towel on my shoulder. Grace hates it when I find her frustration cute, but she gets this little line between her brows and her lips downturn into the most adorable pout. Plus, after living together these past months, it’s clear what’s exasperation and what’s genuine anger.
“I was thinking you still need to get dressed, and I had the time,” I deadpan. The furrow on her brow deepens, and I press a fang into my lip to keep from grinning.
“You know that’s not what I meant!” Grace crosses her arms under her chest with a huff, and I’m momentarily distracted by how enticing it makes her tits look. Thankfully, she doesn’t notice. “You could’ve been hurt, and I wouldn’t have even known it.”
We’ve had this conversation a lot lately. Since I started feeding on Grace regularly, my sunlight tolerance has grown. First, it was being able to be awake and in dim, indirect light for brief periods of time without the usual aversion and pain. Now I’m able to stand outside for a few minutes before sunset without issue. The light still feels unnatural, but short exposure doesn’t harm me.
We still don’t know why. Mona likes to say that it’s because we’re “fated”. I’d dismiss her ridiculous theory more readily if the romantic hidden inside me didn’t adore the idea. Whether it’s magic or fate or a quirk of being a vampire I was never taught, all that matters is the end result—it lets me spend more time with the woman I love .
Now, I haven’t told Grace about my increasing sun tolerance yet, because I’ve kept my experimentation to times when she wasn’t home. If I’d done it while she was around, she’d have tried to block my exit from the house with her body. I appreciate Grace’s concern, but it’s unnecessary.
I sigh softly and close the distance between us, then place a hand on her arm. “Sweetheart, I’m fine. I was only out there for a minute.” I stroke my hand down her arm and clasp her hand in mine. “I know it scares you, but it’s clear that your blood has changed me enough that I can tolerate some sunlight.”
Grace’s angry expression softens slightly, like her body can’t stay mad at me when I’m touching her, and she huffs out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. But next time, don’t do it without me. I can’t bear the thought of you out there frying to a crisp while I’m fucking around somewhere else.”
“Deal.” I kiss her, and she sighs again, this time sweet and breathy and far too delicious, given that guests are going to arrive soon. I step back reluctantly, and the flush on Grace’s cheeks makes me think she’s wishing we had more time, too.
“I’ll finish up. Go get changed.”
Grace nods. “Yes, Mistress.” She gives me a flirty grin, snagging one of the pink pussy cookies from the tray I was working on before scurrying off to the basement.
She’s such a tease and I love it.
I shift the cookies to fill in the gap she made, then bring the tray to the living room, where it looks like a demented sex fairy was set loose. Glittery cock, pussy, and boob decorations in a rainbow of colors fill the space, along with a spread of sex and kink-themed snacks and enough booze to get a giant drunk. It’s garish and ridiculous, but Grace insisted we go over the top, and I’m sure Mona will think it’s hilarious .
The patio is a little less obscene, but that’s only because the phallic string lights that Grace ordered never arrived. I use some of the power in my blood to create a reflection in the glass doors, and snort at the hot pink “I love pussy” shirt with a sparkly eyed cat on it that Grace insisted I wear.
A year ago, I would never have been caught wearing this. I would’ve thought someone had lost their mind if they told me I’d be voluntarily inviting people I barely know over to my house. Granted, I’m still not a fan of having Mona’s party guests coming into my private space, but the need to create that boundary from the rest of the world isn’t nearly as strong anymore.
It’s all because of Grace. She’s utterly reshaped my life and continues to do so each day that we’re together. In many ways, things were a hell of a lot simpler when I was alone and had my defenses firmly in place, but I never want to go back to that version of me. Simpler doesn’t mean better, and any discomfort or friction from adjusting to having a partner is absolutely worth it.
A familiar pang of grief flickers inside me at the thought. Who knew grieving a loss before it happens was a thing? I keep thinking of how hard it will be to lose Grace. I’m still not sure that I’ll survive after living like this. I’ve accepted that reality, but it doesn’t make it any easier to cope with when the thought arises. All I can do is remind myself that she’s here now, and that’s what’s important.
Easier said than done.
I finish up the last few party prep tasks, letting the work distract me from the flare up of sadness. By the time Grace returns, looking the very picture of innocence in her white dress and blonde hair falling in waves over one shoulder, I’m feeling a little better.
“You look gorgeous,” I say, and she does a twirl, the hem of her dress flaring up. “But now I feel ridiculous in this shirt while you’re looking so…demure. ”
Grace laughs and shakes her head. “Come closer.” There’s an amused gleam in her eyes.
I do as she asks, and her grin widens as she points to her dress, and now that I’m closer, I can see there’s a subtle pattern of women sixty-nineing in the fabric of her dress.
“Nice,” I say with a smirk.
“Anything else left to do?” Grace snakes her arms around my waist. “Or do we have a few free minutes before people show up?” She bends down a little to press a kiss to my neck, and I groan as my fangs emerge, my monster wanting a taste of her.
“Everything’s done. Why? What did you have in mind?” I ask, heat coiling in my core.
“Me on my knees, eating you out,” Grace replies with a wicked smile.
“Mmm, do you think you deserve that privilege?” I lick my lips at the prospect of feeling her mouth on me.
“I do, Mistress,” Grace murmurs, her hand sliding down between our bodies to cup my pussy through my pants.
I know she’s doing it to provoke me, and I don’t resist taking the bait. I grab her hand and pull it away, spinning her around and pinning her arm behind her back as I grapple her against the wall. I raise up onto my toes and bring my mouth to her ear. “Such a naughty pet. I didn’t give you permission to touch.”
“S-sorry, Mistress. I’ll be good,” Grace says breathily, though there’s still a hint of mischief in her tone.
“I’m not sure if I believe you,” I murmur, scraping my fangs against the column of her throat.
Her breath hitches and I slide my free hand under her skirt. I’m seconds away from sliding my fingers into her panties and sinking my fangs into her neck when the doorbell rings .
“Ugh, dammit! Who the hell comes fifteen minutes early to a party?” Grace groans.
I chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. “It’s alright. There wasn’t enough time to do what I wanted, anyway.”
She grins and smoothes the hem of her dress, then heads off to answer the door. I take a deep breath to compose myself, heart clenching, as I watch Grace walk away. I don’t think there’s enough time in the world to do everything I want with her.
“No way. You didn’t!” Mona squeals, clasping a hand over her mouth as a muscular woman dressed as a barbarian, complete with a fake battle axe and faux leather bikini enters the room to a song that sounds like a sexy version of medieval tavern music.
When Grace said we needed to get strippers for the party, it was easy to find them, given my connections at The Vault and past burlesque experience. What was harder was finding ones who’d do a D&D-inspired routine, but I was determined to cater the experience to Mona’s interests.
“Oh yes, we did,” I say, grinning as the barbarian flexes and winks at Mona.
Grace whoops and their friends Devi and Rachel, who I’ve spent a few game nights with, gawk at the buff woman with a mixture of attraction and amusement. Caleb, a newer friend of Mona’s, flushes bright red beneath his beard as the barbarian makes suggestive motions with the hilt of her battleaxe, while Ariana next to him laughs and claps. The delight in the room is infectious, and by the time she’s done with her routine, I’m cheering as loud as everyone else .
“Holy shit, that was amazing,” Mona exclaims, beaming at me.
“Just wait, there’s another one,” Grace says with glee, and that’s my cue to start the music for the man dressed in wizard robes with slits up the thighs that bare his muscular legs.
He carries a tome in with him and flips through it, then sets it down in Mona’s lap, sticking his ass out as he bends at the waist and winking over his shoulder at Grace.
My monster bristles at his attention toward her, even though I know it’s all part of his act. He proceeds to perform very suggestive acts with a thick wand, and while he focuses mostly on the bachelorette, he keeps turning back in Grace’s direction and making eyes at her.
I move to her side as subtly as I can, placing a hand on her shoulder. When he looks her way again, I flash my fangs in warning. It’s quick enough to appear as a trick of the light when he does a double-take and sees a placid, fangless smile on my face. He doesn’t look her way again, and finishes up his routine with a magic “explosion” that covers half the room in confetti and glitter.
Great, not only was he making eyes at my girlfriend, but I’m going to find glitter on things for months.
“You okay?” Grace looks up at me, and I realize I was gripping her shoulder a little too hard.
“I will be once he leaves,” I mutter, politely applauding as the wizard picks up his robe and heads back to the guest room I set up for the performers to get ready in.
Grace grins at me. “Mmm, I like it when you get all possessive. But you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“I should hope not. I’ve got much better wands downstairs,” I say with a wry smile.
She bites her lip, and I brush her hair away from her neck, letting my fingers run across her collarbone in a casual caress. Grace shivers and it takes all my willpower to pull my hand away and not haul her off to the basement to have my way with her while the party continues upstairs.
“Wow…that was perfect ,” Mona says, a huge grin on her face after the performances. “Max is going to be so jealous,” she adds with a giggle, her golden brown cheeks burnishing. No doubt she’s thinking about what he’ll do to re-stake his claim on her when he hears about her wild evening.
The rest of the party goes by in a blur of raunchy, silly games and heartfelt wishes for Mona’s marriage to Max. By the time everyone leaves, it’s after midnight, and Grace crumples to the couch with an exhausted sigh.
I sit next to her and guide her to lay her head in my lap. She does so with a pleased hum and closes her eyes as I stroke her hair.
“Just give me a minute, and then I’ll get up to start cleaning up,” she murmurs.
“Leave it. I made plans for someone to take care of it tomorrow,” I say.
“You hired a cleaner?” Grace asks, looking up at me.
“Not quite. Nic offered. He’s doing it in exchange for a session next week.” I brace myself for any sign of discomfort or jealousy the way I always do when I mention my clients, but Grace only smiles.
“He’s such a sweetheart,” she says, sounding entirely sincere. “It’ll be nice to chat with him. It’s been a while since he’s been over to see you.”
“I think he might be seeing someone. Or at least interested in them.” After the bear shifter had his heart-to-heart with me about his wife while Grace and I had broken up, something shifted in him. When we have sessions, he doesn’t want anything overtly sexual. Most of the time he comes over and helps me with housework with the thin guise of me dominating him .
“He deserves someone special in his life,” Grace says wistfully, then lets out a soft chuckle. “Though, you’ll have to find another sub you trust to do the heavy lifting around here if he ends up stopping his sessions.”
“Eh, I’m apparently part of his pack in his eyes, so there’s no getting rid of him, even if he’s not a client.”
“Aww, if I were twenty years older and not desperately in love with you, I’d be swooning for him.” Grace grins when I pretend to glare at her.
“Tonight went pretty well, I think,” she says, changing the subject.
“You saw the look on Mona’s face the whole time. She loved it.” I slide my fingers through Grace’s hair, a question building inside me that I’ve been thinking about for a while. Since that night we got back together. Or maybe even earlier, but I was too afraid to acknowledge it.
“What’s that look for?” Grace asks, far too perceptive of my subtle mood shifts now that we’ve spent so much time together.
“I… Would you like something like this?”
Her brow furrows. “Like what?”
“Like if you were to have a bachelorette party, would you want all the glitter dicks and strippers?” I say the words casually, but inside my stomach clenches in anticipation.
Grace sits up so quickly it startles me, spinning around to look at me eye-to-eye. “No way.”
“‘No’ to the strippers? Or ‘no’ to the concept of a bachelorette party?” I ask.
“‘No’ to you bringing up getting married in such a roundabout way!” Grace huffs, crossing her arms over her chest petulantly. “If you want to get married, then just ask!”
“Okay.” I swallow against the surge of emotion, attempting to make my voice steady. “Will you marry me?”
Grace blinks at me, her mouth falling open in surprise. After a second, she nods. “Yeah.” Another second passes. “Fuck yeah, I’ll marry you.”