The Vampire’s Offer Will #2
I drove home on autopilot, my mind replaying every moment of that strange encounter. The way Raoul had looked at me, like he was appraising something valuable. The cold touch of his hand. That comment about getting to know me "intimately."
Maybe I was reading too much into it. Rich people were eccentric.
Everyone knew that. And if he wanted to meet at some exclusive club in the warehouse district, who was I to judge?
Probably one of those members-only places that the truly wealthy frequented.
Maybe they had good food there or strong drinks. Who knew?
I showered and stood in front of my closet longer than I wanted to admit, trying to figure out what to wear.
Business casual? Too formal? The self-help book had a chapter about dressing for the life you wanted, not the life you had.
I settled on dark jeans and a fitted button-down that showed off the results of all those gym sessions. Not too eager, but put together.
By the time I parked near the address, it was five minutes to eleven.
The building looked damn near abandoned from the outside.
The place was all metal, old brick, and a single neon sign out front that said OPEN.
I double-checked the address on the card.
This was definitely it and there were quite a few cars parked out front.
A single metal door painted matte white sat at street level.
It looked pretty normal as far as I could tell.
The only other thing I saw was a handful of chimneys coming from the building that billowed what might have been steam.
Was this a factory of some sort? Or maybe it was one of those clubs that liked to use a lot of fog machines? I had no idea.
With a sigh, I headed inside. I didn’t want to lose a client like Raoul because I kept him waiting. I just hoped this wasn’t some weird mafia headquarters or something.
When I stepped in, out of all the things I expected, a small minimalist lobby with vinyl floors and a single man behind the counter was not what I expected.
There were no chairs, just a couple of plants and a single door next to the desk that seemed to lead deeper into the building.
The man at the desk didn’t look up as I entered.
Instead, he was focused on what looked like a smutty romance book.
“Um… hello,” I said, stepping up to the desk.
“Membership card?” he asked flatly, still not looking up.
“I don’t have one,” I replied, reaching into my pocket for Raoul’s card. “I’m supposed to meet a man here by the name of Raoul Allard,” I added, placing the card on the desk. “He told me to show you this card when I got here.”
The man, probably in his mid-forties with graying hair, finally looked up. But when his gaze came to rest on the card, he straightened up immediately, putting his book down.
“Oh. Well, if you’re a guest of Mr. Allard, I’ll put you straight through.
” He reached behind him and grabbed a key from the wall.
It had a little coiled plastic wristband on it.
“Locker fourteen,” he said, handing it to me.
“Please leave all personal belongings in the locker, including electronics. Nothing but a towel is permitted beyond the locker room.”
“Uh… what?” I blinked a few times, trying to process what he’d said. “I have to meet Raoul… naked?”
The thought didn’t totally turn me off. In fact, it was kind of exciting, though I didn’t understand why yet. He was attractive, sure. But the allure… Well, it was almost too much for a single person to possess.
“Ah,” the man nodded. “Let me explain. This is a bathhouse. Inside you’ll find a locker room, a roman bath beyond that, play rooms, private rooms, private baths, and all sorts of…
diversions. This is a men only establishment with complete privacy that caters to both monsters and humans.
Mr. Allard has already checked in for the night, so you’ll find him inside. I’m sure he’ll explain the rest.”
A bathhouse. A fucking bathhouse.
I stood there, probably looking like an idiot, trying to reconcile the image of the impeccably dressed Raoul Allard with a place where everyone wandered around in just towels. Or less.
"I... see," I managed, though I definitely didn't see. "And this is normal? For his business meetings?"
The man gave me a look that suggested he'd heard every excuse and rationalization imaginable. "Mr. Allard conducts many of his private meetings here. He values the... intimacy." There was that word again. "Go on through. Locker room is straight ahead."
I clutched the key in my hand, the plastic coil warm against my palm. Every rational part of my brain screamed at me to leave, to tell Raoul tomorrow that this wasn't appropriate, to maintain professional boundaries like any sane person would.
But the memory of those European real estate holdings and his dark alluring eyes kept my feet moving forward.
The locker room was nicer than I expected.
It was clean, modern, with slate tile and warm lighting that actually felt inviting rather than harsh.
A few other men moved through the space in various states of undress, and I tried not to stare.
Some were clearly human. Others... Well, the guy with scales running down his spine was definitely not.
And the werewolf making out with the man on the bench, also no human.
I found locker fourteen and stood in front of it for a long moment, my heart hammering. This was insane. I barely knew this man. But something about Raoul had gotten under my skin during that brief office encounter. The way he'd looked at me, like I was something important. Like I mattered.
Wasn't that what I wanted? To matter?
I started unbuttoning my shirt before I could talk myself out of it. The fabric slid off my shoulders, and I folded it carefully, placing it in the locker. My hands moved to my belt, then my jeans. Soon I was down to my boxer briefs, and I hesitated again.
A stack of white towels sat on a bench nearby. I grabbed one, stripped off the last of my clothes, and wrapped the towel around my waist. My reflection in the mirror showed a nervous but reasonably fit guy who looked like he was about to make either the best or worst decision of his life.
Probably both.
The door leading deeper was next to the open plan showers where several men were doing…
activities. I tried not to stare as I pushed through it and was immediately hit with warm, humid air that smelled faintly of eucalyptus and chlorine.
The sound of water echoed off tile surfaces, along with low voices and occasional laughter.
The corridor opened into a large room dominated by what could only be described as a roman bath—a massive pool of steaming water with marble columns and ambient lighting that cast everything in a dim, golden glow.
Men lounged in the water or along the edges, some talking quietly, others clearly doing more than talking in the dimmer corners.
My cock stirred slightly, but I pushed the thoughts away.
I scanned the room, looking for Raoul's distinctive features among the steam and shadows.
"William."
His voice came from behind me, and I spun around.
Raoul stood there wearing nothing but a towel slung low on his hips, and Jesus Christ, he was even more striking partially undressed.
His chest was smooth and pale, his build lean but defined in a way that suggested strength without bulk.
Water droplets clung to his skin like he'd just emerged from the bath.
"You came," he said, stepping closer. "I wasn't entirely certain you would."
"You said you had business to discuss," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady and professional.
"I do." His eyes traveled over me slowly, appreciatively. "But I also wanted to see if you were brave enough to step outside your comfort zone. Success requires risks, doesn't it?"
"That's what the book says."
"Ah yes, your transformation." He smiled, revealing those perfect white teeth again. "Tell me, William, has it taught you how to recognize when someone desires you?"
My breath caught. "I—what?"
"Don't play coy. You're an intelligent man." He reached out and touched my shoulder, his cold fingers against my warm skin sending electricity down my arm. "I didn't ask you here solely to discuss real estate portfolios."
"Then why did you ask me here?" The question came out quieter than I intended.
Raoul's hand slid from my shoulder to the back of my neck, his grip gentle but possessive. "Because from the moment I saw you in that office, I wanted you. And I always get what I want."
He smiled again, revealing those elongated canines I thought I’d spotted earlier in the day. Suddenly several things clicked into place. The fangs, the umbrella, the late hours…
“You… You’re a vampire, aren’t you?” I asked quietly.
“Ah, you figured me out,” he nodded. “Well, now you understand why my estates are in Europe and why they are so difficult to manage. Holding wealth under the same name for centuries is typically frowned upon by most governments. And even though us supernatural folk have assimilated with the mortal world, laws have yet to catch up.”
I nodded slowly, processing this information. It explained a lot, though it did nothing to explain why my heart was racing or why I wasn't backing away from his touch.
"So this is real," I said. "The inheritance, the properties—"
"All real," he assured me. "I truly do need financial guidance. But I also have other... appetites." His thumb traced a small circle on the back of my neck. "Would it frighten you to know I can hear your pulse right now? That I can smell the blood rushing through your veins?"
It should have terrified me. Instead, I felt heat pooling low in my stomach.